Family Obligations

After his spar with Hitsugaya, Ichigo had gone to Tessai, who agreed to resume teaching him Kidō with more emphasis on Bakudō. However, he needed time to recover from the efforts of that day – breaking into Hell was no easy feat.

As the Vizard-turned-Arrancar seemed content to train amongst themselves for the moment, Ichigo began walking home in his body, brooding over the lesson he'd learned fighting against Hitsugaya. Strategy… Analysis… It reminded him of Aizen, with all his planning and keen plotting. Aizen was a thinking fighter, alright. Ichigo remembered his old archenemy's explanation that he'd engineered most, if not all, of Ichigo's opportunities and motivations to grow. What would you do here?

As it stood, Ichigo felt rather helpless. His mother and sister were still dead and trapped, bound by the chains of Hell. While he probably had the power to break them, it'd be for nothing if they stayed dead. Well, doubly dead for Mom, he corrected himself. I just have to get them into Hell, wait for them to revive, and then free them.

But Ichigo didn't know how he was going to manage that. Hell, the creator of the dimension, was tied to them in ways he didn't understand. No matter how Ichigo got his family into that damned plane, Hell would probably detect them, and prevent Ichigo from freeing them. So Hell has to be dealt with first, he concluded, with a pang in his heart.

So why aren't we invading Hell RIGHT NOW? Cazador demanded. Now, when he's weak and recovering?

Because we don't have a way to keep him down, Ichigo answered wearily. We can't just kill him, or the dimension is destroyed, and Soul Society has enough problems without having to accept the evil souls too.

Then we must wait, Zangetsu stated solemnly. We are not skilled enough in sealing to create a new seal for Hell, nor do we have the records on how the Spirit King shattered Hell's soul. All we can do is train, and be ready when a solution is prepared.

It sucked, but Ichigo knew his Zanpakutō spoke the truth. The next priority after Hell, was doing whatever it took to keep anyone else in Soul Society from having the bright idea of using his family against him. If only there was a way to constantly keep them under… my… wait. Hell built a dimension. Why can't we? Then everyone could stay there. A haven!

Ichigo felt Zangetsu shift within his soul. As loathe as I am to say it, Ichigo, our strength is not yet sufficient to do such a thing. You require more power, more control, and more knowledge.

Then we have our next goal, Ichigo decided, his brows furrowed. Control and knowledge first – those coincide with what we need to deal with Hell. We'll figure out power later.

A sudden spike of reiatsu broke Ichigo free from such thoughts – he had reached his own house, but next door there was… Ichigo rubbed his eyes disbelievingly. Suddenly erect around the neighbor's house was what could only be a Kidō barrier that shimmered through the colors of the rainbow. "That's… that's…" Ichigo stammered for a moment before letting loose a disgusted sigh. "Damn it, just when I was looking to rest for the night."

The Substitute Shinigami approached the barrier and knocked politely, if none too gently. The barrier let out a low gong-like sound, and Ichigo waited a few moments for a reply. Then a stern-looking Shinigami with blue-black hair and long grey gloves came out of the house and approached the barrier. He appeared stunned for a moment, seeing Ichigo. "You can see me?"

"Obviously," Ichigo commented, his tone somewhere between sarcastic and dry. "I'm Kurosaki Ichigo. And you are?"

"Oh! I apologize, Kurosaki-sama, for not recognizing you earlier!" the man exclaimed, dipping into a quick and polite bow. "I am Kenzaki Ryūsei, loyal servant of the Kasumiōji family. Please call me Kenryū. What can I do for you?"

Kasumiōji… Ichigo, they are a noble family who came up in our investigation. They specialize in weapons manufacturing.

Ichigo silently acknowledged his Zanpakutō's information. "I'll try to make this quick, and I'm sorry if I'm a bit short – it's been a long day," Ichigo started. "But frankly… what are you doing in Karakura? The Kasumiōji are a noble family, right? Don't you have your own manor?"

Kenryū grimaced, looking a put little on the spot. "I'm afraid that is business private to the Kasumiōji…"

"Bullshit," Ichigo interrupted. "This is Karakura, and you are in the house right next to mine. You have to have known that – no noble family would act without trying to find all the information. I can only think of three reasons why someone would move right next to me and put what seems to be a high level barrier to block the way." Ichigo put up his fingers, ticking them off as he listed the reasons. "First, they want to finish what the Berean family started and threaten my family to control me. Second, they want close access to kill me because there's a contract on my head. Or finally, they need me nearby to help with something." Ichigo shook his head. "So tell me what's going on, or I'm taking my family and just getting out of town." It was a bluff, of course, but there was no need to tell that to Kenryū.

"No!" the servant exclaimed before he could stop himself. Then he hung his head. "You're right; we chose this house and quickly bought it from their original owners because we hoped that being so near to you would give us extra protection."

"Protection against what?" Ichigo pressed. "And for whom?"

"For the leader of the Kasumiōji," Kenryū answered, defeated. "Kasumiōji Rurichiyo. Someone is trying to kill her."

Ichigo palmed his face in exasperation. "Fine. Let me in so I don't look like an idiot talking to thin air."

Kenryū made a difficult-looking hand sign, and a man-sized hole in the barrier opened, allowing the Vizard to come inside. They entered the house, where they were silently greeted by a tall, muscular man with sunglasses and a small Mohawk in the shape of a lightning bolt. "It's ok, Enryū," Kenryū assured him. "This is Kurosaki Ichigo."

Enryū nodded shortly, but did not relax much as he followed them into what was obviously a meeting room, complete with a small table to sit seiza-style at. Ichigo raised an eyebrow. Very loyal bodyguard, he mused.

The three of them sat at the table, and Ichigo decided to open the conversation after a few moments of silence. "So, who's trying to kill Rurichiyo?" he asked bluntly. "And shouldn't she be a part of this conversation?"

Kenryū frowned. "Please address Rurichiyo-sama with respect, Kurosaki-sama. But no, she is… unaware that she is being targeted."

Ichigo snorted. "How's that?"

Enryū made several strange hand signs, as though wildly miming what he wanted to say. Kenryū nodded in apparent agreement and turned back to Ichigo. "Enryū says that it's our duty as her servants to make it easier for her to lead the Kasumiōji without worry. We are her guardians, as she is still young. She believes we are currently taking a small vacation."

"What about her parents?"

"Her mother died during childbirth," Kenryū replied sadly. "Her father recently passed away due to illness, though we are uncertain if that illness was engineered or not. We suspect it was."

"So what makes you think that someone's after her?"

Once again, Enryū began making his strange sign language that only Kenryū seemed to understand. "Enryū says that assassins have been sent after her more than once. We narrowly escaped one today, even." Enryū nodded enthusiastically.

OK, hard to argue with that… "Fine. Any idea who, or why?"

The two bodyguards exchanged a dark look. "Kumoi Gyōkaku," Kenryū revealed darkly. "A clan leader of the Kasumiōji. He is easily the second-in-command of the Kasumiōji, and we are sure that he wants to rule it."

"Wait, let me get this straight." Ichigo stood up and looked at the two servants disbelievingly. "She's being attacked. You know who's doing it, you know why he's doing it, you know where he's usually going to be… so why haven't you just dealt with him? Kill him, seal him, imprison him, something!"

"It's not that easy," Kenryū contradicted. "We have no proof. While we have the skills to escape the assassins, we are sadly not strong enough to defeat and capture them. Without their testimony, we have no evidence that Kumoi is responsible, and if we… dispatch him, then the family will fall apart. He is too well known."

Enryū made several more signs, ending with pointing at Ichigo. Kenryū nodded. "He says that that's why we escaped to the living world. We are trying to escape the assassination attempts until we can gather the evidence needed. Can we count on you to help protect her?"

Ichigo sighed and sat down at the table again, weighing his options. I need most of my attention on the threat of Hell invading – there's no way to know when it'll happen, and if I'm busy with this then I might miss a crucial chance to slip in with Mom and Yuzu, get them resurrected, and then cut off their chains. Or someone else might die because I was distracted.

On the other hand, he admitted, it could really come in handy for another noble family to owe me. It lends me and mine support, and I need to think long term. When Mom isn't bound by Hell anymore, she'll still be a dead, purified soul. She'll still need to reside in Soul Society. If this works out, then she could stay with the Kasumiōji, with the protection of Shinigami and politics.

After a few tense moments, Ichigo decided that while he could, if it came down to it, invade Hell forcefully after it was all over… he couldn't constantly be there for his mother. So he nodded. "Fine, I can help out. So, the plan is to wait for an assassin, capture him, then use him to expose Kumoi?"

The pair of guardians looked at each other again, relief obvious on both their face. "Yes," Kenryū confirmed.

"Then all we need to do is bait a trap."

Enryū frowned and made more of his strange sign language. "How so?"

"The assassin is after Rurichiyo, right? So we expose her, give the assassin an opportunity. I'll be nearby, undetectable. When the assassin arrives, I knock him out from behind," Ichigo suggested.

Kenryū shook his head. "Unacceptable. I know of your strength and skill, Kurosaki Ichigo, but these assassins have strange powers, strange enough that Rurichiyo-sama may be taken before you could stop them. Both Enryū and I have attained Shikai, and even when we work together it is not enough to defeat a single assassin. You must not underestimate them."

Ichigo grimaced. "What 'strange powers' have you encountered so far?"

"One man could dissolve entirely into mist that would surround the area. Then he would materialize randomly inside. He seemed impossible to hit," Kenryū described. "It was all we could do to get away from that one, and he was the one who chased us here into the living world."

"Point taken," Ichigo conceded.

"Our barrier obfuscates our reiatsu signatures, making it more difficult to track us, as well as providing a first line of defense," Kenryū told their guest. "So long as we stay within it, we're reasonably safe." He rubbed the back of his head, looking sheepish. "But as we're theoretically on vacation, Rurichiyo-sama will want to go outside and explore."

Something about the phrasing made Ichigo frown – Rurichiyo sounded young. But who knew how old she really was, or where that stood in terms of how grown up she was? Rukia was at least a century old, yet she could easily pass as a human 15-year-old physically and mentally. It got even more complicated, as Rukia had explained that spirits with more reiryōku naturally lived longer, since reiryōku was literally a spirit's life force.

Ichigo opened his mouth to ask how mature she was… but shut it with a snap. That was certainly not something to ask a noble family that he wanted himself endeared to. He grimaced. In other words, there was no way to know what to expect until he saw the leader of the Kasumiōji.

Instead, he sighed and decided to be completely honest. It's better than them thinking I'm at their beck and call. "How much do you know of what's going on outside of the Kasumiōji?"

"Not much," Kenryū admitted. "We've been somewhat occupied with internal politics and evading assassins."

Ichigo shook his head. "Here's the short version. You know the dimension, Hell? Turns out it was named for the creator, and he was revived not long ago. Hell – the person, not the dimension – is supposedly this extra-dimensional warlord who tried to conquer the worlds a long time ago. So…" Ichigo scratched the back of his head, not sure how to continue. "Well, basically Hell's probably going to try again. So I literally can't be here all the time – the Gotei 13 needs my power to fight the Togabito – Hell-bound souls, I mean. You might be better off making this place a stronghold and telling Rurichiyo the truth."

Enryū and Kenryū shared worried glances. "We'll need to discuss this," the more vocal of the two responded after several seconds. "We'll contact you tomorrow, or the next day at the latest. Allow me to escort you out."

Meanwhile, Renji and Rukia were still out by the lake, though now the situations were reversed: Rukia was the teacher, and Renji the student. Rukia had quickly had her friend demonstrate the most powerful Kidō he was comfortable with casting.

"Renji, your Hadō 31: Shakkahō is imperfect," Rukia scolded. "I'm astounded it didn't blow up your face, with the amount of power you just shoved into it!"

"I know, I know," Renji replied miserably. "Kidō is my worst subject. And it does blow up every now and then. I haven't really worked on it since my days at the Academy; remember, I was first taken by the 5th, but Aizen moved me to the 11th after seeing my aptitude at swordsmanship, and then I was only recently brought to the 6th Division."

Rukia sighed. "Alright then. The biggest issue is your control. Cast it again, with the full incantation his time, and focus on using less power."

Renji brought up his arms once more, putting his left hand on his right bicep as though to brace himself. "Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march on to the south! Hadō 31: Shakkahō!"

This time, the red orb that materialized in front of Renji's open palm, while large, was obviously more manageable, and he shot it into the still-mostly-frozen lake, where it carved a large hole that was slowly filling with melted ice. Renji himself looked surprised. "That felt a lot better, even better than when I was doing that without having gained Bankai."

"When do you usually resort to Kidō?" Rukia queried, intrigued.

"Well, until recently I didn't really use it. Remember, 11th Division?" Renji reminded. "If I need destructive power, I have Bankai. And my control's been too shoddy for Bakudō…"

Rukia sighed. "Well, we're going to have to fix that. Your Bankai uses your reiatsu to hold Hihio Zabimaru's segments together, correct? Better control means you need less reiatsu to maintain it. And with better control, you could use Bakudō to hold your opponent in place for your Bankai to smash or blast."

Renji's eyes widened – he hadn't thought of that. "Alright! Where do we start?"

The ice user shook her head amusedly – Renji always was one to get fired up when he finally understood how useful something could be… or if it appealed to his urge to blow things up. Rukia moved closer and clasped one of Renji's hands in hers. "Do you trust me?"

Renji looked at his best friend, memories flashing through his head from their time in the Rukongai, their separation in the Academy, their reconciliation after Aizen deserted. "Always," he replied quietly.

Rukia nodded, molding the power that gently emanated around Renji's hand with her own. It was more difficult than simply working with her own power, but that was to be expected, as she was manipulating Renji's reiryoku, his very life force. "Hadō 31: Shakkahō."

He didn't flinch, but instead stared at the large, calm, crimson orb that now hovered over their joined hands. His power was part of it, he could feel it as though he'd cast it himself.

"Do you feel it?" Rukia murmured. "The stability?"

"Yes." And Renji could. The Kidō was very stable – Rukia could hold it as long as she had power to supply it, he was sure.

"Can you feel how your reiryoku is being molded?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, slowly take control of the spell from me. I'm going to loosen my will, and I need you to pick up the slack, Renji."

Renji nodded determinedly. Rukia began to relax her spiritual grip on the Shakkahō, and it slowly started to shrink and give off dangerous wisps of explosive energy without a constant source of power and will, until Renji fed it some of his reiryoku and, with some effort, stabilized it.

They repeated the process three more times, until Rukia gently moved her hand away from Renji's. "Now, Renji, that's all you."

Renji smiled tightly – maintaining such a perfect Shakkahō was very hard on his concentration. "So, it becomes an exercise in control?" he asked through gritted teeth, not angry, just very focused.

"Exactly. Hold the spell as long as you can. When you know you can't hold it any longer, or if you've held it for an hour, fire it," Rukia ordered, moving to a nearby tree and sitting down against it.

"Why an hour?"

"At some point your mind will figure out how to multitask the concentration needed for Kidō, and the awareness needed for battle. When you can hold it for an hour, you should be skilled enough to hold a decent conversation with me without strain."

Renji nodded. This is a lot harder than what I had you do, he thought bitingly. But he immediately regretted it. The path to Bankai is not easy, Rukia. Looks like we're both going to be suffering, just in different ways.

He refocused on the orb then, determined to make it last as long as possible.

Ishida Uryū entered his apartment with narrowed eyes, deep in contemplative thought. He'd gotten most of the story from Urahara upon his return, but he was uncertain on what it meant for him.

He looked to his right, where another sewing project, a coat designed for the fairer sex, was unfinished – he had meant to finish it and attempt to sell it to see where he stood in terms of skill. But Ishida did not see the coat - he saw past it, to where his Quincy uniform was neatly displayed on a manikin. In Ishida's mind rang the words of his vow, to stop involving himself in spiritual matters.

"I swear, on the Pride of the Quincy, that unless it is to save a life, or to maintain my skills, I will not use my Quincy powers. I further swear that after the current crisis is over, I will focus my energies on living my life as any other non-spiritually-aware human would."

And yet… the minions of Hell cannot truly die. They are constantly brought back. Would a Quincy arrow destroy them? Or would they resurrect even then? Is Hell the key to finding a way around our arrows annihilating souls?

Either way, this was an opportunity. If Ishida were to participate, then either the Quincy would do what the Shinigami could not and destroy the invading forces once and for all, safeguarding Karakura… or the Quincy would find a way to equalize them by making his arrows purify rather than destroy. But… the vow…

Ishida shook his head and moved to his bedroom, sitting down on his bed silently. The crisis he'd spoken of during the vow had come and gone – Aizen was dead. The only loophole was the "to save a life" clause he'd put in… but was that not dishonorable, to resume his training as a Quincy when he knew that there were so many other reasons behind why he wanted to do so?

He wanted to not be powerless, he wanted another chance to prove the strength and usefulness of the Quincy, he wanted to resume his rivalry with Kurosaki, he wanted… Ishida lowered his head and closed his eyes, removing his glasses absently with his right hand to pinch the bridge of his nose with his left. I want to help my friends. I don't want them to fight alone.

But I swore on the Pride of the Quincy. I knew this was going to happen someday. In exchange for the power to aid them against Aizen, I swore I would cease my involvement in with spirits. If I break my vow just because I want to, then my word becomes meaningless. My pride… would shatter.

But… my friends… my nakama… how can I abandon them when they are about to face Hell itself? Ishida buried his face in his hands. More than ever, he wished his grandfather, Sōken, the man who had trained him as a child in the Quincy arts, was still alive and well. And one again he cursed the name of Kurotsuchi Mayuri, the Shinigami taicho who had arranged for Sōken's death simply to dissect his spirit and study the soul of a Quincy. Tell me, Grandfather… what should I do?

Ichigo entered his own house with a sigh, his mind on the many things that had happened, and what needed to be done. "Ichigo," the tense voice of his sister spoke.

He turned at the sound, looking towards the couch, where Karin sat. She was almost rigidly tense, her hands clasped on her knees with a grip that shook with intensity. But Ichigo knew better than to ask. They both knew. Masaki and Yuzu were bound by Hell's chains. And if Ichigo couldn't free them, not only would Yuzu die, but then they were both in for an eternity of torment.

"Karin," Ichigo acknowledged, moving to sit across from her, in one of the chairs.

They were both silent for a few seconds as Karin struggled to figure out how to say what she wanted. "You can set them free, right?"

Ichigo nodded. "I broke a chain or two while fighting the guys who took you. I can break the chains, Karin, but I don't know what will happen when I do."

"What do you think will happen?" Karin sounded… not desperate, not calm, but some bizarre combination of hopeful and scared.

"I want to say that Yuzu will revive, and Mom will be able to go back to Soul Society. But Hell…" Ichigo shook his head. "You know better than most just how evil the Hell dimension is."

"What can I do to help?" Karin demanded more animatedly.

"You're going to stay next to me," Ichigo's father's voice sounded from the door leading to the family clinic. Isshin was once more in human form, but he looked dead serious. "Karin, the fight is going to be brought here to Karakura. Souls that have been in torment for thousands of years, souls that crave to inflict violence and death upon those blessed enough not to be damned… they will be coming."

"Then let me fight!" Karin argued, standing. "I've been fighting Hollows for months!"

"You couldn't handle the Togabito who kidnapped you and your sister," Isshin reminded. "And I will not have you kidnapped again!"

Karin sat back down, cowed by her father's words. Ichigo nodded appreciatively – that was one less thing to worry about. If Karin's with Dad, then her protection's pretty much guaranteed. "Dad, I…"

"Ichigo," Isshin interrupted, "you need to focus on your Bakudō."

"I know," Ichigo acknowledged. "Tōshirō explained it to me. Transcendent-level seal, right?"

"Right."

"We have another problem." Ichigo quickly explained what he knew of the Kasumiōji situation. "If we can help them, then they'll owe us one. We can have them look out for Mom when everything's over."

Isshin nodded. "Good plan, but you want to get it resolved sooner rather than later. They're basically civilians in what's going to be another war. Talk to Yamamoto – no, better yet, talk to Kuchiki Byakuya. He's both a noble and a taicho, so he should know any loopholes you can use."

Karin sat quietly, watching her brother and father make plans for the immediate and not-so-immediate future. It was one of the few times they had ever treated each other with such seriousness and respect, working together as adults, but neither seemed uncomfortable with it. I don't understand. How have things changed so quickly?

She stared harder, knowing that something was just on the edge of her perception. She pushed… and then Karin could see them, if only just. There was a translucent, almost transparent, image around Ichigo, and another around Isshin.

When Karin was able to focus directly on Isshin's over-image, the illusion overtook the reality, and she saw Isshin in his Shinigami robes rather than his human clothes, with a white haori tied around his shoulder. A sword was strapped to his side, and it positively burned with tightly-controlled power. And Karin understood. Isshin is not just my father; he is also a powerful Shinigami. Things haven't really changed for him… more that he is reassuming an old role.

Karin turned her eyes of startling insight to Ichigo, and her eyes widened as she saw Ichigo in his Bankai coat, with one eye a bloody red with blue sclera. There was something else, something just beyond her sight, attached to his chest... but Karin could suddenly feel the weight of his reiatsu upon her, a great, looming presence that positively screamed of tenseness and stress, that warned in no uncertain terms not to provoke him or else be crushed. And just as before, Karin understood. Ichigo's dead serious because he feels he can't afford not to be. He is stressed and needs someone to be on his side, to help in some way because he feels overwhelmed and ready to snap.

How do I know these things? Why am I seeing them like this? Karin had no idea, and the only idea she had both excited and scared her: Are… my powers growing too?

Karin knew she'd always been sensitive to spirits, much like Ichigo had been before he became a Shinigami. She'd ignored them as best she could, seeing how Ichigo had been plagued by spirits night and day… But ever since that incident with the cockatiel housing the spirit of Shubata Yūichi, she had begun to have infrequent… flashes, for lack of a better word.

Karin had attributed it to growing older and wiser when every so often she suddenly had very good ideas on the emotions of those around her. It didn't happen often, so she thought little of it… But now? Is this power of mine… spiritual?

Ichigo nodded then, dragging Karin from her thoughts. "It's decided, then. I'll be staying at Urahara's to maximize my time learning Bakudō. Karin will stay home with you and help out in the clinic. You make the necessary excuses at our schools."

Isshin nodded as well. "Right."

Neither of them missed how Karin merely nodded her assent as they turned to look at her, or how she quietly made her way back up to the room she normally shared with Yuzu.

"Son."

Ichigo turned to his father. "Yes, Dad?"

"I want you to know: I think you've grown into a fine young man. And you have my support, Ichigo, whenever you need me. For anything." Isshin's eyes were earnest, honest.

Ichigo swallowed the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. "I know that, Dad. I'm sorry I wasn't able to rescue them in time."

"And I'm sorry I wasn't home to protect your sisters," Isshin apologized. "Is that why you didn't call on me to help invade Hell?"

"What? No!" Ichigo denied vehemently. "I didn't call on you because you're needed here. You're a doctor, someone who saves lives. If you had come to Hell with me, you wouldn't have been here. None of us – not me, not Mom, not Karin, not Yuzu, not even you – would have been able to deal with their salvation costing the life of someone else. So I made the choice, to protect you from it. So if I chose wrong, you wouldn't have the burden."

Without warning, Isshin pulled Ichigo into a bear hug. "Damn it, Ichigo… you're not supposed to be this wise yet. Soon I really won't have anything left to teach you." His voice was throaty, as though fighting back some powerful emotion.

Ichigo wrapped his arms around his father's torso. "When that happens, Dad, we'll learn the rest together, right?"

They separated, and Isshin gave a solid nod. "Right," he affirmed strongly. "Now let's get some shut-eye; it's been a long day, and there's a lot to do tomorrow."