A/N: I need a bit of a breather while I try to sort through my Around notes for what needs to go into the end of the story to finish it off, and what really ought to be in its own story. (Or possibly stories, plural. The bunnies have Ideas on Hinahoho.)
So, have a bit of a Bleach omake. This is set in a particular ‘verse in my head, where Ichigo ends up coming into conscious contact with magic and the supernatural a bit earlier than canon, and things snowball from there. (I don’t own Bleach. Or the other ‘verse. Hee.)
“Every magic’s got its price. What are my limits, old man?”
-What you allow them to be.
“You’re not making sense!”
-Am I not? Tell me, Ichigo. What are you?
-Ah. And a human body, at such speeds?
-You are a shinketsu. True blood. You are shinigami.
-But you were born among humans. Raised with them. You are half-human. It is your strength – our strength – and our weakness.
-Your body here is not a human body. It is formed of your strength, your will, your soul. And your soul believes you are human.
“…If I use all your speed, I’ll – break.”
-If you fight for more than a few minutes. Yes. A dark coat rustled with frustration. -You have the strength to wield me, Ichigo. I know it. But until you learn to reshape your own self in this form, to strengthen the patterns of power that are the bone and sinew of a spirit’s body….
“How long is that going to take?”
-The minutes trickle away like blood. I know.
-Fight, Ichigo. Use me. We will save her.
“Yeah.” A wry chuckle. “This is gonna hurt like hell.”