The bird crossed the sky alone.
Ichigo Kurosaki stood still at the edge of the riverbank, eyes following the small dark shape as it cut across the orange stained evening. Its wings beat steadily, purposefully, yet there was no flock to guide it, no answering cry from another in the distance. Just one bird, flying on because that was all it could do. The sky was wide and indifferent, painted in the last colors of the setting sun, burnt gold melting into tired crimson, fading slowly into dusk.
He didn't know why the sight snagged at his chest. Maybe because loneliness was easier to recognize when it wasn't your own.
The bells began to toll.
Low and distant at first, then clearer, echoing through Karakura Town as the day officially surrendered to night. The sound rolled through streets and alleys, across rooftops and quiet homes, a familiar rhythm that had once meant comfort. Once. Now it only marked time moving forward without asking his permission.
"See you tomorrow."
The voice came from his side. Chad.
Before Ichigo could respond, a heavy hand clapped down on his shoulder, firm, friendly, grounding. The contact was brief but sincere. Chad was already turning away, already jogging down the path, his long strides carrying him forward with the kind of certainty Ichigo no longer possessed.
Tomorrow. Yeah. Sure.
Ichigo watched him go, jaw tightening as the truth surfaced uninvited. He's running off to fight a Hollow. The thought was bitter, sharp enough to sting. Chad didn't even have to say it. Ichigo could tell by the set of his shoulders, the urgency in his pace. Protecting the town. Protecting people.
Protecting him.
Ichigo finally turned away from the river, slinging his pack over his shoulder as he started walking. The strap dug into his palm as his fingers curled around it, grounding him in the present as memories tried to drag him backward.
Two years.
Two years since everything had ended. Since he had become his blade. Since he had become the Getsuga itself. Power so absolute it had burned itself out of existence, taking everything with it. When it was over, there was no triumphant aftermath, no sense of completion. Just silence.
It had felt empty. Not hollow, not painful, just indescribably empty.
Zangetsu had been him. Not a spirit, not a weapon, but a part of his very being. And he had been Zangetsu in return. Two sides of the same existence, inseparable, until Ichigo had made the choice to tear that bond apart forever.
To lose one part of yourself completely was not something words were meant to describe. Lonely didn't even come close. Understatement of the century.
His friends hadn't created the distance between them. He had. Every smile he forced, every conversation he cut short, every glance he avoided was another step away. He couldn't bear to look at them sometimes. Not after what he had given up.
He had sacrificed his powers for them. For the Soul Society. For a future where they could live without fear. And now they were the ones standing on the front lines, while he stayed behind.
Being protected.
His fist clenched around the strap of his backpack, knuckles whitening as resentment flared hot and ugly in his chest. Envy followed close behind, sour and unwelcome. He hated feeling like this. Hated what it was turning him into.
Slowly, he exhaled, forcing the tension out with a tired sigh.
He was exhausted. Exhausted of bitterness. Exhausted of replaying the past. Exhausted of watching life move on without him.
Oh well.
He was moving anyway.
Leaving Karakura Town behind felt strangely inevitable. Not like he could protect it anymore. Not like he belonged here now. What was the point of staying somewhere that only reminded him of everything he had lost?
Only his father knew. Isshin had been disappointed, masking it behind forced cheer and loud laughter, but Ichigo had seen through it easily. Still, he didn't care. Not enough to change his mind.
He refused to spend another second watching his friends fight in his place. The resentment it stirred inside him was too much to bear.
Sendai wasn't bad. A fresh city, unfamiliar streets, unfamiliar faces. Sugisawara Third High School. A clean break.
Ichigo walked on as the sun finally disappeared beyond the horizon, the bells fading into silence behind him.
The train ride north was quiet in the way only late evenings could be.
Ichigo sat by the window, his reflection faintly superimposed over the darkening landscape rushing past. City lights blurred into streaks of white and amber, vanishing as quickly as they appeared. Towns came and went without names, without meaning. He liked that. Transience had a comfort to it. Nothing stayed long enough to remind him of what he used to be.
His backpack rested at his feet, worn and familiar. Everything he owned now fit inside it. Clothes, school documents, the bare essentials. No charms. No badges. No hidden weapons. No power humming beneath his skin. Just weight and fabric and the dull ache of being ordinary.
Ordinary.
The word still felt foreign.
The rhythmic clatter of the train tracks pulled at his thoughts, dragging memories forward whether he wanted them or not. Instinctively, he reached inward, the way he had done thousands of times before. The place where power used to answer him immediately. Where Zangetsu's presence had loomed like a constant storm, vast and unyielding.
There was nothing.
No pressure. No depth. No echo.
Just silence.
Ichigo closed his eyes, jaw tightening. He told himself he was used to it by now. Two years was more than enough time to adjust. Enough time to accept that this emptiness was permanent. And yet, some nights, it still felt like reaching for a limb that wasn't there anymore.
He remembered the final moment clearly. Becoming the blade. Becoming the Getsuga. Power so concentrated it erased itself, stripped him down to something painfully human. At the time, it had felt right. Necessary. A sacrifice without hesitation.
Now, all that remained was the aftermath.
A life he had saved but could no longer truly live in.
When the train finally slowed, the announcement crackled overhead, naming Sendai Station in a voice devoid of emotion. Ichigo stood, slinging his pack over his shoulder once more. The motion was automatic, practiced. He stepped onto the platform as cool night air greeted him, sharp and clean compared to Karakura's familiar humidity.
Sendai felt different immediately.
Larger, perhaps. Wider streets. Taller buildings. A different rhythm altogether. People passed him without a second glance, absorbed in their own lives. No one knew his name here. No one knew what he had been.
That anonymity settled over him like a blanket.
Good.
The walk to his temporary apartment was uneventful. A small place, sparsely furnished, rented under his father's arrangements. Isshin had tried to joke about it, had tried to make it sound exciting. A new chapter. A fresh start.
Ichigo hadn't answered.
Inside, the apartment was quiet. Too quiet. He dropped his bag by the door and stood there for a long moment, listening to the hum of distant traffic, the faint murmur of neighbors through thin walls. Life continuing all around him, indifferent to his arrival.
He exhaled slowly and moved further inside.
That night, sleep came in fragments. Dreams tangled with memories, faces blurring together. Zangetsu stood at the edge of his awareness, silent and unmoving, just out of reach. Every time Ichigo tried to speak, the dream dissolved into darkness.
Morning arrived without ceremony.
Sugisawara Third High School rose before him later that day, clean and modern, its gates already open as students streamed inside. Ichigo paused at the entrance, fingers tightening briefly around the strap of his bag.
Another school. Another uniform. Another attempt at normalcy.
He stepped through the gates.
Classes blurred together. Introductions, seating charts, polite curiosity from classmates that faded quickly when he offered nothing more than curt answers. Teachers noted his transfer and moved on. No one pushed. No one pried.
It was exactly what he wanted.
And yet.
As the final bell rang and students poured out into the afternoon sun, Ichigo felt it.
A pressure.
Faint. Almost imagined.
He stopped mid-step, heart skipping as instinct flared for the first time in years. The sensation vanished as quickly as it came, leaving behind nothing but a chill crawling up his spine.
He stood there, staring at nothing, breath shallow.
That hadn't been power. He knew better than to fool himself.
But it also hadn't been nothing.
Ichigo clenched his hand slowly, then released it.
Whatever it was, he told himself, it didn't matter.
He was done with that world.
Still, as he walked home beneath the open sky, he found his gaze drifting upward, searching without realizing it. Somewhere above, a lone bird crossed the horizon, wings steady, solitary.
Ichigo watched it until it disappeared from sight.
For the first time since leaving Karakura Town, something inside him stirred. Not hope. Not anger.
Just the quiet, unsettling sense that his story wasn't finished yet.