With a Silent Step

It was a full three days later that the leather bandages finally receded back into the bracer, which shrunk from being the full length of Ichigo's arm to being just three inches wide around his wrist.

Keigo, Chad, and Mizuiro had been sent home to prevent their nervous worrying; Ishida had promised to call them as soon as something happened, and kept close watch over Ichigo's prone form. There were ten small marks lining the inside of the Shinigami's forearm, matching the positions of the nodules that had compressed into his body. The impressions worried Urahara; he didn't know what had been injected, or why Ichigo still hadn't woken up.

Despite Kurotsuchi's warning flag, not much seemed to have changed about Ichigo, Urahara thought to himself. It was almost on cue that suddenly his hair began twisting wildly as though it had a mind of its own. Soon, it began growing longer, reaching past his shoulders and down his back. He seemed smaller, somehow, more vulnerable when he was laying flat on his back, ten small red blemishes in his arm marking four days of pain and suffering.

Ishida wandered back into the room, toweling his hair dry after a shower. "Urahara... Thank you for letting me stay," he said politely. Behind him, Shinji kicked him.

"Dumbass," the vizard swore. "He tried to kick you out five times but you wouldn't leave!"

Ishida rounded on him, scowling. "Look who's talking! Don't you have anything better to do with your time?"

Shinji sighed dramatically, and clasped his hands. "Ishida-kuun, I've been so worried about my lovely Ichigo, though. Who knows what that bastard Kurotsuchi did to him."

"Look, you, don't start with that again! What exactly does Ichigo mean to you anyway?"

"What does he mean to me? Why, he's my one true beloved, that's what! I can ask you the same thing! What does he mean to you, Uryuu-chan? I thought you hated Shinigami!"

"That's different!"

"SHUT. UP." Two pillows hit the bickering pair like bricks, and all three turned to look at the previously comatose Ichigo. The Shinigami captain was sitting upright in bed, still posing in the follow-through position from having thrown the pillows. "What does it take for a guy to get a little sleep around here? The least you bastards could have done was taken it outside or something!"

Ishida was moving before he even realized what he was planning. Throwing his arms around the Shinigami, he squeezed him tightly. "Ichigo! You're awake! I was so worried!"

"Oh, Ichigo, Ichigo!" Shinji imitated in falsetto behind them.

"SHUT UP!" Ichigo and Ishida shouted in tandem. Ishida realized how close he was to his former rival, and that something was... a little off. Jerking backwards, he stared hard.

Ichigo, unaware of the scrutiny, picked at his hair. "Man, what the fuck happened to my hair? It's so long. URAHARA! What the hell did you do to me!?"

"I didn't do anything to you, Ichigo-kun," Urahara said pleasantly, his goofy smile back in place behind his fan to hide his relief. If Ichigo was feeling well enough to sit up and yell, then he must not have gone through too much. "How much do you remember?"

Ichigo scratched the back of his head, frowning as the hair got in the way. "Well, he broke through the window, and paralyzed me. Then... I think he grabbed me. I passed out afterwards. When I woke up, I was in a huge room, and it was freezing cold. He put something on my arm..." Ichigo trailed off, suddenly realizing that there was still something on his arm. "Hey! What the hell?"

"It shrunk," Shinji pointed out, peering from behind Urahara.

"I... I... Ichigo." Ishida's voice was weak and trembling, the light reflecting off his glasses in such a way as to obscure his eyes.

"W-w-what, Ishida?" Ichigo snapped, still peering at his arm. The nemaki he was wearing kept sliding down, and he was in a constant battle with it to keep the sleeve away from the marks.

"Your... your... You..." Ishida stammered, finally attracting attention. Ichigo, fed up with everything, tackled him.

"What the hell is wrong with you now, you Quincy fruitcake? Is it Timmy? Did he fall down a fucking well?" He gathered the collar of Ishida's shirt into his hands and pulled his fist back to hit him. Ishida scowled, and reached up, ripping the nemaki open.

"Your chest, you idiot!" he snarled.

Ichigo looked down. Two conspicuous bumps resided there where previously it had been smooth, flat planes of muscle. Ichigo let go of Ishida, who lay there motionless as Ichigo groped himself in disbelief. "What.... what the hell is this?"

They looked real. They felt real.

"AAAAAUUUUGGGHHH!!! Urahara, what the hell have you done to me now!?" Ichigo suddenly paled. His eyes went downwards again to his legs, which were still straddling Ishida's from the tackle. Slowly, he reached into the folds of the nemaki.

Ishida felt Ichigo's hand brushing against his hips as the Shinigami felt around for what should have been there. Ashen grey replaced the pale tan of Ichigo's face, and Ishida was worried for a moment that he was going to pass out on top of him. Or was it 'she' now...?

Ichigo cupped the empty space where her - his, dammit! - parts used to be. Nothing. She - he - pressed upwards, and met warm flesh. Pressed in.

This time, Ichigo's scream could be heard clear across to the other side of Karakura.

-

Rukia burst in just as the last of Ichigo's scream was dying away. "ICHIG-ACK!" Shocked by what she saw, she stumbled right into Shinji, who in turn slammed into Urahara, who fell right to the bottom of the impromptu dogpile. Yoruichi was right behind Rukia, and didn't see them go down. Urahara grunted as Yoruichi tumbled down after them.

"That.. that... That bastard! That bastard Kurotsuchi turned me into... into..."

"A really hot girl," Shinji interjected, making no pretenses about staring at Ichigo's still-exposed chest. The Captain-turned-female flushed red, and yanked her nemaki closed, then planted her foot firmly into Shinji's face. "You fucking pervert, keep your disgusting eyes offa me!"

"I-Ichigo-kun," Urahara pointed out weakly from the floor, "you can't expect anything less from a healthy young man when such feminine attributes are on display."

"Not true," Yoruichi said with a smirk. "Ichigo had no trouble at all keeping his eyes off me when I took my clothes off." She picked herself up delicately, and caught the fragile look in Ichigo's eyes. "Alright, boys, everyone who doesn't have a set on her chest, OUT!"

"That means you too, Rukia," Shinji said nastily as he climbed to his feet. Rukia swung out with one foot and knocked him right back down with a blow behind the knees.

"Get out before I kill you," she threatened. Shinji was on his feet and gliding out of the room before she'd even finished.

"Baibai, Ichigo chaaan~" the vizard called irritatingly. Urahara stood and dusted himself off before following.

"I think I have some phone calls to make," he muttered to himself, waving his fan rapidly. Ishida coughed politely from under Ichigo, who jumped backwards in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, Ichigo," he said quietly. "Just so you know, this doesn't change anything." Ichigo looked at him gratefully before Yoruichi literally kicked him out the door. Shutting it gently, and locking it for good measure, Yoruichi sat down maternally on the bed beside the terrified boy-girl.

"Ichigo, he's right. This doesn't change anything. There's nothing wrong with your reiatsu, and I need you to tell me a few things right away. Rukia, come sit down and be morally supportive."

Rukia knelt delicately on the bed, and put her hand on Ichigo's shoulder. "We'll get through this, to start with, and then we're gonna go kick Kurotsuchi's ass." Ichigo embarrassed them both by giving her a watery smile.

"Thank you, Rukia. Alright, Yoruichi, what do you need to know?" She surreptitiously wiped away the tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes.

"How's Zangetsu? Can you still hear him?" Yoruichi took command easily, and Ichigo was comforted that she wasn't being coddled. The newly transformed girl reached inside her mind, searching for her constant companions.

/Ichigo! Are you alright? I apologize; we were able to do nothing against the dark magics Kurotsuchi employed./

No, it's okay. I'm doing alright... I guess. You guys are sure you're okay?

That's what we said, dumbass! Shirosaki interjected. Ossan was afraid that when you found out you'd freak, but he's been sitting in here biting his nails the whole time you were out.

Out? What the hell? How long has it been?

/Approximately four days since your abduction./ Zangetsu supplied. /I have been speaking with Benihime. She believes that the bracer around your forearm was meant to -/

"Ichigo?" Rukia's voice broke her concentration, and Ichigo lost the contact. "You were so quiet. We were beginning to worry that you couldn't find him."

"No, I found them. They're both okay." Ichigo said, smiling with more confidence than she had since Ishida pointed out her newfound abnormalities. She still shuddered to think that everything that had made her a man was gone.

"Both?" Yoruichi asked, then realization dawned. "Shirosaki also? That's good."

A tentative knock on the door startled them. "Anou, excuse me?" Orihime's voice sounded nervous. "I got a weird call from Urahara..."

Rukia jumped up and unlocked it, inviting the fae-master inside. Shinji was slumped against the wall, his eyes dazed, proving that Orihime had found him eavesdropping outside the door, and that she hadn't lost her touch.

Ichigo leapt up and hugged her old friend. "Hime-chan! I'm glad to see you. It's so good to see someone who's... normal."

"Hey!"
"I resent that,"

Both Yoruichi and Rukia were glowering from behind the two girls, and Ichigo had the good grace to be embarrassed. "I just meant... from this world. Where nothing like this usually happens, yano?"

"I see," Yoruichi said warmly. "That's alright then. Come in, Orihime. Tell us what Urahara said."

Hime looked Ichigo over carefully. "So he wasn't lying. You're so short now, Ichigo-kun."

It was true, Ichigo realized. Instead of towering over her like he normally did, she was now almost as short as Rukia.

"Anyway," Orihime continued, as if finding your longtime friend suddenly turned into a girl was normal. Actually, considering some of the things she'd seen, Ichigo as a girl probably was normal. "Urahara-san called me and asked me to bring over some clothes, and buy some weird things. I couldn't understand what he needed them for at first, but this makes sense."

Weird.. things? Ichigo was suddenly terrified of her mentor. Orihime was brandishing a large paper sack, and it was clearly full of .. something. Rukia took it from her gently, and opened it.

"How in Soul Society did that perverted jerk know what size to tell you!?" Rukia demanded, brandishing... something Ichigo had seen, but never considered the notion of actually having to wear. Suddenly confronted with the notion, it looked more like an instrument of torture. She backed up into the wall.

"No way. NO FUCKING WAY am I wearing that crazy shit!" she insisted. Orihime looked her over, and then shrugged before tugging her tee shirt up over her head. "HIME!" Ichigo shouted, sounding strangled. "What the hell are you doing?!"

The shirt removed, Orihime stood there posing in a lavender bra with lace trimmings at the top. "You're a girl right now, Ichigo-kun, and I know you're trustworthy, even if you were a guy."

"That's right," Rukia said, and followed the example. Ichigo's face was flaming red.

"Ru-Ru-Ru-Rukia! Stop that! Hey! Don't take your shirt off- GAH! Yoruichi! Not you too!"

In the hallway, Jinta and Shinji stood with their ears pressed to the door, their faces flushed.

"Wh...what a lucky guy!" Jinta said reverently.

"What I wouldn't give to see Rukia in her bra," Shinji added. Both boys toppled over, blood spouting from their noses like a water from a fountain.

All three girls stood topless, wearing the hated ... things.

"See, Ichigo-kun? It's normal. And if you don't, boys will stare at your chest." Yoruichi did a little bouncing maneuver that caused everything to jiggle slightly. Ichigo's eyes shut tight, steam rising from her face. "Without a bra, that's much worse."

"F-fine!" Ichigo relented. "Gimme that damn thing!" She snatched the bra - thankfully black and plain - from Orihime's hand. She held it up against her chest, still wearing the nemaki. She could tell where her arms were supposed to go, based on the brief glimpses she'd gotten of Rukia, Orihime, and Yoruichi's displays. How it was actually supposed to work, though...

Yoruichi watched her struggle with it for a few moments, and then deftly pushed her nemaki down, exposing her breasts. "Like this," she said, and guided Ichigo's arms through the straps. She placed the cups over those... things, and then handed it back to Ichigo, who reached behind her back and tried to figure out how it was supposed to shut. Orihime giggled, and then pulled it off her again.

"I find it easier to do this way," she offered, and turned the hateful thing upside down before tucking the curved part under her chest. Ichigo reached back, and found it was much easier to hook together, and then stood there helplessly.

"This doesn't look right," she said weakly. Orihime guided her arms through the straps again, which was a bit of a contortion for Ichigo now that it was closed, and then righted the cups.

"Now just adjust it so that it lays comfortably. Are the straps too tight?" Rukia asked, tugging on them.

"Adjust?" Ichigo asked cluelessly. Orihime smiled, and then reached inside her bra. Ichigo shouted again before she could help herself.

"Adjust, Ichigo-kun. Put your hand inside and pull yourself up gently, then do the other side." Ichigo tried to copy her, and then realized what it was she was meant to do. That done, she realized that she was a lot more comfortable than she had been before, when they were free to swing inside her nemaki.

"Ichigo-kun's not as big as Orihime-chan," Yoruichi noted with amusement.

"Bigger than me, though," Rukia sniffed.

Orihime smiled. "Oh, Rukia-chan, you know that if yours were any bigger you'd look out of proportion to yourself. Everything else about you is so tiny and delicate, too, I've always been so jealous."

"Jealous? Why? It's your hair that I've always been jealous of," Rukia said curiously. "It's so long and beautiful. If mine gets any longer than this, it's a complete mess. The one time I tried growing it out, Nii-sama laughed at me."

Ichigo listened to the conversation flow around them as Yoruichi joined in with how she had always liked the way Rukia's seemed to just flow gracefully while her own was always sticking out in every direction no matter what she did to it. It was a strange feeling, this acceptance. It made her feel strong. She was in a foreign body, she was going to kill that mad Kurotsuchi the next time she saw him, but for the moment, it was okay.

"Ah! We forgot Ichigo-kun!" Orihime said suddenly. "One more thing," she added, and withdrew a tiny piece of black cotton from the bag. Ichigo stared it down like it was about to attack him with bankai.

"No way. No fucking way." she said adamantly. I can see the point of the bra, okay, but no fucking way am I wearing those... those..."

"Panties, Ichigo-kun," Yoruichi supplied helpfully. She bent over, tugging her pants down and kicking them away. It was almost worse than when she was completely naked, Ichigo thought, and averted her eyes. The tiny scrap of lace barely covered anything - it was so small, that Yoruichi's hand would have done a better job of hiding everything down there. The fabric stopped after just four inches, and turned into some sort of connective strips that arched over her hips and met in the back. "Look at me, Ichigo, cause otherwise you'll never learn anything. Think of this as a training exercise. Now, I don't think you'll be comfortable in something like this, but you may as well know anyway." She turned around, and suddenly Ichigo was presented with two perfectly round spheres of flesh, divided by a thin line of material that went into the front. "This is called a string-bikini thong," Yoruichi said cheerfully. Ichigo's face felt like it was on fire. She opened her eyes at the sound of rustling fabric, and realized that both Rukia and Orihime had followed the example, shedding their trousers and standing there in the full glory of their underwear, as comfortable as if they were fully clothed.

"Gack," Ichigo said intelligently. Orihime's was a match for her bra - a pretty shade of lavender, although mercifully solid fabric was covered with matching lace to create an interesting dynamic look. Rukia's was the most boring, and safest looking to Ichigo. It was just a plain blue pair of cotton panties, similar to the ones Orihime had picked up on her way over.

That boggled Ichigo for a moment, though. Her bra was white, but her panties were blue. Both Orihime and Yoruichi had matching underwear. She commented on this.

"That's because Orihime and I have someone to show," Yoruichi explained with a wink. Orihime blushed. "Rukia doesn't have to impress anyone, so she goes with whatever's comfortable." Rukia nodded her agreement.

"If I'd known this was going to be a naked day, though, I'd have worn something a bit prettier," she added.

"N-naked?" Ichigo squeaked. Yoruichi ignored her as Orihime pulled the last thing from the bag. It was a plastic bag that looked stuffed full of something flat and long... Ichigo caught sight of the picture on the front and screamed again.

-

Ishida was in the kitchen, helping Ururu cook up bacon for the sandwiches they were making for lunch, when the familiar scream echoed through the house. He raced past Urahara who was deep in conversation with Tatsuki, and kicked Jinta out of the way of the door, simply stepping on Shinji where he lay. He threw the door open, fully expecting a hollow, or bloody bodies, or even Kurotsuchi himself. What he wasn't expecting were three girls standing around in their underwear, a suspicious paper bag on the floor, and Ichigo...

Ichigo...

Ichigo was angled slightly away from the door, giving Ishida an artistic angle on her flat, muscular stomach and the swells of her breasts contained within a plain bra. She was bent over, pulling something up her legs, and turned to glare at him over her shoulder, pausing mid-motion. The action caused her hair, slipping over her shoulder and obscuring parts of her face, to glint orange in the sunlight streaming through the slatted blinds screening the window. A blue fire of reishi ignited around the redheaded boy-turned-girl, and Ishida bowed.

"E..excuse me please," he whispered, and slid the door closed again. As soon as the sight had been closed off - but forever burned into his brain - he toppled over backwards, blood fountaining from his nose, to join the other two already passed out in the hall.

-[TBC]-
notes:
nemaki is a kind of sleepwear yukata (if you've read Dracoqueen's Of Violence, you should know this, but in case you haven't, what the hell are you reading this shit for? Go find her stuff!)
yano is a shorthand for you know

I apologize for the weird pronouns. XDD I love gender-bending, but I'm never sure whether to use he or she when describing the ... bent person. XDD