Symphony no.1 - Sonata of Souls

Sigh I hereby give you all permission to hate, curse, stab, gouge my eyes out, whatever floats your boat. I apologize profusely for the long wait for this chapter. Procrastination, writer’s block from space, and a bunch of other things contributed to this being so late, but I named this week Author’s Week and have secluded myself from all things distracting and will put all my focus into updating all my fics :D. Thank You all your reviews really made me happy.
*hugs* Hope you like this chapter. I put a lot effort into it and since I took so long the writing style might be a tad different. I promise that you will never have to wait that long for an update again!




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Pale moonlight filtering through a window and casting a patch of blue light across his face, was the first thing that sent the alarm bells in Ichigo’s mind ringing madly. He was certain, without a doubt, that the secluded room- which he was now recognizing as a prison if anything- that Urahara had supplied him with, had nothing of the sort.

It was often dark, unless Urahara decided it was to his fancy to light a solitary candle as a light source when he came to aid Ichigo, or just felt that the boy – being a human being and all - needed something that wasn’t complete darkness.

But there was no way anything from the outside could reach him, which meant that he was somewhere else. Somewhere he didn’t remember going to.

His body didn’t hurt any more, not even a dull throb remained, and that was the second thing that nudged at his senses. He moved a long arm from his side and flexed his fingers in front of him to gauge his consciousness. As of late, he’d been feeling disoriented when he woke up sometimes, like if he was in the wrong place, or expecting to be in another.

The room vaguely resembled the one he had at the shouten. There was nothing really to distinguish them apart. They were both bare, except for the futon he slept on with nothing else of major interest.

He also noticed, admittedly a little late, a shadow looming in the corner, the full outline of a person. He instinctively reached for Zangetsu. It wasn’t there. Of course it wouldn’t be. He didn’t even have the slightest idea where he was.

He sat bolt upright. “Who’s there? Kisuke?”

“ ‘Fraid not,” the hoarse voice mocked.

Ichigo didn’t recognize it but the worst thing to do in a situation like this was panic.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

The cloaked figure stepped out, his head bent to conceal his face. There was no reiatsu coming from him. Not shinigami or hollow. Was he human? Or concealing it well?

“I asked you what you wanted from me,” Ichigo growled, though feeling a little vulnerable without his zanpaktou.

“Now, now, there’s no need for that, Ichigo-kun. I’m only here to put an end to a particularly troublesome problem of yours.”

The voice sounded so familiar, but Ichigo still couldn’t grasp it.

Stiffening, he prepared himself for if brute strength was needed. Not something he liked to depend on but he couldn’t see any other options at the moment. He had no sword, no idea where he was or how he’d gotten there, and no way to determine his opponent’s strength.

“And what problem would that be?” He could buy time and try to read this person and find out something, if he could. He figured that if they wanted to attack they could have done so already, or killed him when he was sleeping not too long ago.

A broad smile flitted underneath the hood exposing rows of frighteningly sharp teeth. Arrancar? But no reiatsu…

“The one tha’ causes you ta have dreams like this,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“Dream?”

The question was met with another smile. “Oops, did I say that?”

Ichigo growled low in his throat. “Stop messing around. Whatever you’ve got to say spit it out.”

“Follow me.”

Ichigo had no intention of obeying this command and he made it known by scoffing loudly. “Don’t order me around.”

“You’re really pissin’ me off, ya know that.”

“Same here, bastard,” Ichigo bit back.

“Che.”

Ichigo could swear he heard the person grumbling under his breath and felt somewhat proud of himself. “Looks like things aren’t exactly going your way. Mind telling me where my sword is?”

“So you don’t want my help?” The sly smile that he was beginning to dislike was back, mocking him and twisting his insides with its insinuation.

“You know, Ichigo-kun, no one blames you for what happened,” he whispered slyly, deliberately. “But then how can they, they’re dead and the ones who aren’t well-”

“S-Shut up.” Ichigo barely managed to find his voice though he wished that it hadn’t cracked so pathetically.

“I’m just trying to help.”

“Like hell, I don’t need your help!” Ichigo spat, blood simmering now that their little talk was going in a direction he’d rather it not. He didn’t need any help, and he was sure that there was nothing this so - called person could do anyway. There was nothing anyone could do.

“Easy, easy,” he soothed, shielding himself with his hands. “I’d like to peacefully convince ya, but unfortunately, I’m not that patient of a guy.” He lifted his right hand up slowly and pointed a long finger at Ichigo.

All Ichigo could do was watch, curious what he was about to do. He wasn’t sure, but he could cross off a cero or anything of the like off the list, and his enemy wasn’t armed with anything he could see. Eyes narrowing, he watched carefully for any movements he could pick up on and dodge if necessary.

He waited, expecting a powerful attack but none came. Instead his body quivered with a faint trembling.

“What the-” He looked down quizzically as his knees bent themselves and his arms pushed his body up off the ground. He was about to protest but before he could react, his body flew up on its own and slammed into the wall with a loud crash.

“Whoops, looks like I pulled a little too hard,” the hooded figure said with a hint of amusement.

Ichigo rubbed his head irritably. True his injuries were gone but they were likely to be replaced by new ones at this rate. “Are you trying to kill me, dumbass!?”

A large smile was the reply. “Sorry, sorry. Let’s try that again shall we?”

“No thanks, I can walk on my own.”

“That’s more like it. Follow me. And actually do it this time,” he teased, with a clear hint or warning.

Ichigo scowled but didn’t voice his annoyance. The man turned to face the door, but instead of opening it, passed right through, calling Ichigo after with his index finger.

Ichigo was hesitant, and rightly so. Someone who was not a spirit had just gone through a solid wall and was asking him to do the same. The would-be kidnapper seemed harmless enough, if he ignored the fact that he could control his body with some strange power. He didn’t harm him and didn’t show any signs of wanting to. Ichigo didn’t trust him, but the sooner he went, the sooner he could find out what was going on.

He pressed a hand to the surface of the wall tentatively and miraculously, it went right through which left him awed because as far as he could tell, he wasn’t in his shinigami form.

After the initial shock subsided, Ichigo stepped through and emerged on the other side which was the middle of a narrow hallway.

“Took ya long enough, thought ya got lost,” he smirked. Ichigo thoroughly ignored his pleased sneer..

“Yeah well I don’t normally follow cloaked men through walls. How did I do that by-”

“I told ya already didn’t I, this is a dream. Well, let’s get a move on shall we.”

Ichigo frowned; obviously he wouldn’t be getting any answers on that subject so he walked in silence and took in his surroundings which looked very similar to...

“Hey, isn’t this Urahara’s shouten?” The layout was exactly the same.

“Finally noticed have ya, smart guy.”

“I think I hate you.” Ichigo was watching him intently, but the fact that that would get him no closer to the man’s identity was altogether obvious.

They walked silently, weaving their way through the shop until they stopped dead at a door to the back. Had the shop always been this vast?

“This is it,” the man announced

“What is this? I’ve never seen this before,” Ichigo said looking around the dark, unfamiliar corridor.

“I’m not surprised.” He ghosted in, again moving through the wall and this time Ichigo was quick to follow. The inside resembled a laboratory, with lots of machines and gadgets all around. He led Ichigo to the back, to the darkest corner, to the biggest thing of all.

“Here it is.”

It reminded Ichigo of the sekkai gate in which Urahara had helped them get to souls society and also to Hueco Mundo.

“W-What is this?”

“Scared?” he smirked. “This, is what will help you.”

“How?”

“This, Kurosaki Ichigo, is a machine to elude the passage of time. To put simply, a Time Machine”

“A time machine?” Ichigo echoed in disbelief. Even though he battled hollows and saw spirits so often to be considered normal, the idea of something like this was unbelievable.

“Though I should tell you that Urahara would advise against it,” the man said, cutting through his thoughts.

“Why?”

“Isn’t being Urahara Kisuke reason enough,” he replied smoothly.

“Hardly.” Ichigo wasn’t altogether convinced. This room was far from everything else, this gate was at the back half-hidden. Maybe all of these things were not meant to be found.

“I’m not so sure about this,” muttered Ichigo, rubbing the back of his neck and shifting on his feet.

There was no smile this time. “Would you like ta hear somethin’ good?”

Ichigo hesitated, his eyes wide. “What is it?”

“You’re healing is taking a lot of time isn’t it? It’s been what… months now that you had those wounds?”

Ichigo hadn’t thought about it. Had it really been months? He tried to keep track of every time he was brought food so that he could at least measure the days. But Urahara fed him simple food that could have easily been lunch or dinner and every time Ichigo asked about anything on the outside, the man would become purposely vague.

“So? Is that it?”

“Your healing has been slowed dramatically; because your reiatsu is being contained.”

“Contained?”

“Stop repeatin’ me, it’s annoying, Ichigo-kun.” The sickeningly sweet way in which the man said his name made Ichigo shiver with disgust.

“And please refrain from asking me the stupid question that you are about to. Who the culprit is should be obvious.”

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a key.

“Here, you will need this if you wish to enter here in the waking world.” He held out his palm, his mouth pulled in a tight frown waiting for Ichigo to take it on his own, to see if he was capable of making such a decision.

Ichigo hesitated, uncertainty and fear creeping up his spine. He reached out slowly, his fingers brushing the cold metal and took it.

“How do I-”

“The key will unlock this door. All you need to do is pass through the gate. It’ll take you where you need to go.”

“But-” Ichigo didn’t have time to ask any more questions, his body felt light as air, and was quickly evaporating into mist. He was being pulled upward by an unseen force. His body was disappearing but he clutched at the key tightly, surprising himself.

The hooded man grinned widely at this and for the first time that night, he raised his head up and lifted the hood off his face. Ichigo got a good look and nearly gasped. Just as he was about to call out the name, he was there no more.




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Ichigo sat up too quickly and aggravated his bandaged ribs. Disoriented and horribly thirsty, he sucked in a breath as the pain rippled throughout his body.

A single candle flickered next to him from his sudden movement, but became still when he settled his breathing and relaxed back onto the futon.

A dream, not like the others but by no means better. It was already dissipating, falling away from his memory each moment that he was awake. He tried to hold on to it but it was like trying to hold a mist with bare hands and the bits and pieces floated away, including the identity of the cloaked man. He tried in vain to remember but it was no good.

He did remember something so it wasn’t a total loss. That something being what the person had showed him. The maze that they had walked through and the door they had discovered.

Now that Ichigo was giving it proper thought, it may have been just an ordinary dream, it was feeling farther and farther away. But his consciousness at the time was surprising. It had felt so real, but don’t all dreams feel that way?

Urahara came soon after to bring his lunch – or maybe it was breakfast? It was food, so it didn’t really matter. He was well enough now to feed himself, without making a complete mess but Urahara pretended not to notice in favor of feeding him himself.

Ichigo felt more relaxed around the man who was jovial as usual and keen to keep up conversation, but the memory of what he had been told kept him from being fully responsive and only served to worsen his usual bad mood. The idea of asking him about the room surfaced but he pushed it back down.

Though I should tell you the Urahara would advise against it. Isn’t being Urahara Kisuke reason enough?

The words just replayed themselves in his head and with every smile the man gave him he just sunk further and further into confusion.

Why was Urahara hiding such a thing? Something of such immense power that could do so much.

Why didn’t he tell anyone about it?

Ichigo always knew that Urahara was an intelligent man in his own right, even a little obsessive. Such a thing wasn’t not out of his reach to create and Ichigo didn’t doubt that he did create it, but why wasn’t he inclined to use it?

The logical part of his brain, the side which often prevailed, told him the answer may be quite obvious. Urahara wouldn’t deliberately hide something like this, it may have malfunctioned, or maybe unfinished.

It could also be in the middle of testing and Urahara wanted to ensure that it was functioning properly before announcing it.

It was as likely an explanation as any. But the other side, the side that usually lay dormant and thought nothing of logic, awakened. The machine was being hidden, but that wasn’t the worst of it and what Ichigo was most concerned about. It was what he was told about his reiatsu.

“Urahara?” Ichigo asked between mouthfuls of something very brown and lumpy. Soup hopefully. So why did he need chopsticks to eat it.

“Yes, Ichigo-Kun?”

“Something’s been bothering me for a while now.”

“What might that be?” Urahara asked cautiously, chopsticks laden with food hovering outside of Ichigo’s mouth, playfully jabbing them at his cheeks like a child.

“Why can’t I leave this room?”

“Because you’re not yet healed,” he answered indifferently. Ichigo didn’t know how he could tell, but he knew Kisuke was relieved and he figured that he’d say something like that, but Ichigo wasn’t quite ready to give up yet.

“Really? Because it feels like I’m being kept in,” he pressed forcefully.

“Nonsense, Ichigo-Kun. Now open wide and say ahhh.” Urahara chided him lightly, and opened his mouth, trying to get an unwilling Ichigo to do the same.

Ichigo had had it with his games. “Is that why my reiatsu is being blocked?”

The smile slipped off Urahara’s lips at this.

“My, my. How did you arrive at that conclusion,” Urahara said silkily, slowly setting the bowl aside and pulling out his trademark fan- that coupled with his hat- completely hid his face.

“I-Its true then?” Ichigo couldn’t stop himself from stuttering at hearing it. Secretly, he’d hoped that the person in his dreams was wrong and that it was just a dream. Why would Kisuke do this? The same reason he was hiding the room. But Ichigo still couldn’t get his mind around it.

At that moment, Urahara closed his fan with aloud snap and rose to his feet. Before he reached the door, he looked over his shoulder with a gaze that Ichigo didn’t quite like.

“The reason you are being ‘contained’ is very simple. Right now, you are in hiding, and because you unconsciously leak tremendous amounts of reiatsu, it would be ridiculously easy for shinigami to find you. That would be problematic.”

Ichigo literally felt his jaw drop, one hand tightening on his chopsticks and the other on the blanket that he was pulling to cover his lower body. “Hiding ? Is it… because of what happened in Hueco Mundo?” Despite himself, he began to shiver.

Urahara’s gaze narrowed slightly, and the tightness in his shoulders showed, but he didn’t reply. With a heavy sigh, he turned around and pried the eating utensils from Ichigo’s frozen fingers and collected the bowl with half- eaten food.

Ichigo wouldn’t eat anymore.

He had wanted to avoid this matter at any cost but Ichigo’s accusations and inquiries wouldn’t allow it anymore. He should have expected as much.

“Ichigo…”

“Why are you helping me?” Ichigo interrupted before the statement was finished.

Urahara was slightly surprised by the irritated nip in his voice but couldn’t bring himself to be put off by it. “I wonder…”

Taking in the conflicting feelings in his expression, Urahara felt an unusual stab of pity right in his chest, and moved to again feel his skin which he was denied when Ichigo moved his face away ever so subtly.

Maybe he deserved that. It appeared that Ichigo had no more to say and Urahara opted to leave him to his musings instead of a barrage of questions and consolations. Really - what more could he say? Words had no effect, Ichigo had refused contact and time… time was not on his side. Not on their side.

Surely, they wouldn’t believe that Ichigo died in battle under such suspicious circumstances much longer. They wanted proof and all they had was his word. And though he’d done so much in lending his efforts to the battle and protecting Karakura town, under the thumb of Seireitei’s justice system, his word was worthless. If, that is, it ever had value.

His quietly slid the door shut, allowing his eyes to rake over Ichigo’s form. The detached and miserable look in his eyes that meant more nights of blocking out the screams, more days of pretending not to hear the wails of pain. Forcing him to eat before he became weak and sickly again.

This is all my fault Ichigo, but I promise you, I’ll find a way, so please…. don’t…

Ichigo closed his eyes tightly and brought his hands to his sweat drenched forehead, digging at his face with his nails. But the faces and voices did not go away. He slid onto his back and pulled the sheet over his head.

Something shined through his closed lids and he reluctantly sought the object. Lying by his face was a small golden key. Proof that something unexplainable had happened.

He still had the key; there was no doubt that it was the same from his dream.

His logic side fought hard but lost, and rolled away gradually with the falling tears.



Dun dun dun. Who is the man from Ichi-nii’s dream? What up with kissy-kun? I’d love to hear your comments , questions and speculations! Ichigo heads to the past next chappie. I think I may have spelled he sekkai gate wrong or gotten the whole word wrong since I watched the episode which included it a long time ago.

~_~ Kay