Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ The Limits of Power ❯ The Limits of Power ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

 

 

 

The Limits of Power

 

 

 

 

 

The hollow was a monstrosity, just like every other one the shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo, came across. Big…stupid…strong…and determined as hell not to get killed.

 

“Why is it that whenever I get strong enough to beat the most powerful person in the world, another bigger, stronger, and MORE powerful bastard comes to take its place?” Ichigo yelled in frustration as he dodged another attack from the hollow.

 

“What are you talking about?” Rukia yelled back, watching from the sidelines. The blasts the hollow was throwing at her partner were barely a threat. “This hollow is child's play for you.”

 

“I'm not talking about the hollow,” Ichigo fired back, and Rukia watched as the orange haired boy launched himself into the air above the hollow and brought Zangetsu down in a powerful slash, obliterating the creature. He landed lightly on his feet, barely breathing hard. “I'm talking about the principle of the fact.”

 

“What fact?” Rukia said, confused, having forgotten the conversation they were having as she watched Ichigo in action. His power and effortless grace never ceased to amaze her, and it was all she could do not to stare at him. She brought herself mentally back as she saw him glare at her.

 

“The fact that it all seems very unfair,” Ichigo complained after he made sure Rukia was paying attention. “I defeat the undefeatable, and without even a month to rest, someone bigger comes along. I want to know when I get a break.”

 

He didn't think he liked the blank stare she gave him. “You are a shinigami. You don't get breaks.”

 

He walked to her and knelt over his prone body, still dressed in his school uniform, and quickly made the transformation from Ichigo, shinigami extraordinaire, to Kurosaki Ichigo, the now seventeen year old high school boy. He brushed off his slacks, which had obtained dirt from being on the ground, and reached for the book bag Rukia was holding. “I'm not angry about not getting any breaks,” he said, slinging the bag over his shoulder and beginning to walk. “It's the reason why I don't get them.”

 

“You don't like fighting?” Rukia asked, her confusion growing. “If you didn't like it, you shouldn't have become a shinigami. Really, Ichigo, you make no sense at all.” She didn't see his fist until too late, when he bopped her on the head, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make his point.

 

“Baka, it's not about not wanting to fight either.” He noticed how red Rukia's face was getting by that time, and decided that maybe hitting her wasn't such a good idea on his part. He had forgotten that she hits back. And she was big on revenge, as well he realized when she beaned one of her school books at him. When he was on the ground, she stood over him, glowering.

 

Her voice was low and menacing and she looked dangerous…at least until he noticed he had a very nice view of what lay underneath her skirt. But, he decided to keep that information to himself for a later time. After all…he valued life.

 

“You better start making some sense, Ichigo. First it's about not getting any breaks, then it's about fighting, and you're talking crazy things about how you have to fight more powerful people. Explain.”

 

Ichigo was glad the street was deserted as the sun set. No one seeing a red-haired boy lying beneath a petite high school girl would believe they were having just a conversation. But of course, Rukia never cared about what the mortals of this world thought of her…or the circumstances she endlessly found herself in. She didn't have any second thoughts about how she looked in front of Ichigo.

 

And never would, he thought, a bit dejectedly. Whether people saw them as a couple, friends, partners, enemies, whatever, Rukia didn't notice. And didn't care in the slightest. And that's how it would remain. Even though they had been working together for two years, nothing had changed. Except the fact that he wanted things to.

 

Go figure.

 

He wanted Rukia to want people to see them as a couple because he wanted to be a couple. But, like he would ever admit that to her. He was better off fighting, gaining status as a shinigami and keeping her out of trouble. Which brought him to what had been bothering him all along, and as she nudged him impatiently in the shoulder with her toe, he tried to find the words to explain it to her. That it wasn't about him, but her.

 

He looked away obstinately, his voice unintentionally brusque, not liking being put on the spot. “They get stronger, I get stronger, then they get even stronger, and I match them. It's a cycle that I wonder if it will ever stop.” He eyed her out of the corner of his eye and saw her looking at him intently, waiting for him to get to his point. He sighed, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “There has to be a limit! There has to be a certain level of power that no one can exceed, and I have a feeling I'm coming close to it.” His voice grew quiet. “And I wonder who will reach it…them or me? If I reach it first, fine, but if they reach it first...” his voice trailed off as he thought of the consequences. Not being able to protect the ones he loves, no matter how much he fought was his worst nightmare. Rukia, while being far from fragile, had a vulnerable air about her that just screamed for protection, even though she could take care of herself. But only for so long. If he was defeated, who would be there for her?

 

He was startled as she knelt down, and he felt the end of her skirt brush his stomach. His first reaction was to scoot back in shock, the second was to grab her, and the third was to roll his eyes at her blatant lack of etiquette in the middle of the street. All he managed to show on his face though, was the raising of one eyebrow.

 

“I see,” she said solemnly. “You worry for your family and friends if, for whatever reason, one day you cannot defeat an enemy.”

 

Even though that was only a part of it, he nodded dumbly and watched in fascination as her eyes softened minutely.

 

Rukia had watched him blunder through his explanation, frustrated at his inability to express his emotion, until she caught the look in his eyes, just for a split second. Those rare moments when Ichigo showed doubt in his own ability, those moments of vulnerability that she never expected to come from the cocky teenager disarmed her more powerfully than any enemy.

 

So she had knelt down to him, ignoring the heat his body was emitting, wanting him to know she understood. “I do not need to tell you that you are powerful,” she continued. “You have exceeded the levels that even the highest shinigami's could not reach and you still continue to grow. But your power does not lie completely with your ability to grow. It lies here,” she laid her hand against his heart, “and with the determination that you show. Many would call it stubbornness, but it's not just that. Your will to survive, your will to allow others you care about to survive…that is your power, and you will always have that. No one can surpass it, no one can copy it, and no one can defeat it. And, if such a day comes when an enemy threatens your family and friends that you believe you cannot deafeat, I will be right beside you, helping you protect them as I have been for every other battle. You are not alone.”

 

Who will protect you? He thought. She never thought about herself, and he hated that. Instead of saying that he willed her to understand. “Baka,” he muttered, sending her a look that had all of his frustrations and unspoken thoughts in it.

 

Baka? She thought, wondering if she should be offended or not. It wasn't said meanly, and he was looking at her so strangely. His heartbeat sped under her hand, and she looked down in surprise, not having realized she was still touching him. Without thinking, she pressed her hand more firmly against him, trying to feel more of the pit-pat and felt it grow faster as her pressure against him increased. She could almost see his skin vibrate along with the beat, her eyes being drawn from her hand on his chest, up to his collar, where tanned skin met white in a fascinating contrast that she had never noticed before. The cords in his neck moved with his breathing, her eyes drawn to the tendon that met his collarbone and up to his strong jaw, usually set in a stubborn rigidness. Up his smooth cheeks, past the strands of orange-hair that was his unique trademark, and in to his eyes, which were looking at her in such a way that she felt her own heartbeat increase, and wondered what was going on.

 

Hurriedly, she stood up and stepped back, allowing him to stand as well, and she looked up at him, now with an indecipherable look on his face.

 

“We should get going,” she said, not being able to face him, and wondered at the oddity of the whole situation. “We have homework we have to do.”

 

“Right,” he said, his voice giving away nothing, and began leading the walk to his house. Either it had been his imagination, or something had happened between them in that moment. But she had retreated, much to his unending frustration, and now he was forced to wonder. He chanced a glance at her, and saw her frowning at the pavement in front of them, lost in her own thoughts. Since he was struggling with his own, he felt the need to lighten the moment.

 

“So,” he began conversationally, totally different than the last five minutes. “I didn't know Chappy came out with a brand of panties.”

 

She looked at him in pure confusion for a full moment before she realized what he meant and blushed the most interesting shade of red he had ever seen. Stomping off ahead of him, he unrepentantly watched her skirt sway with her angry movements, completely missing the second book as it sailed through the air.

 

Finding himself staring at the sky once more on the ground, a headache beginning to form behind his eyes, he figured that life, for the moment, was good. He would deal with things when the time came to deal with them, and until then, he would just be Ichigo. Determination and all.

 

 

 

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(A/N: I have no flippin' clue where this came from. I don't even write “Bleach” fics, yet here is my first one, and completely unplanned. I think I was watching the latest “Bleach” episode, thinking about all the people Ichigo had thought and how far he had come, and realized just how much more powerful could he get? Every time I think he's reached the highest level and nothing can beat him, boom, another bad guy shows up to ruin the fun. And thus, this fic was born. I think I'll leave it as a one shot for now because I still have my Inuyasha fic going, but I might have plans to turn it into a full story. Who knows? It depends on how much people like it. And I do hope people liked it. Any and all reviews are greatly appreciated.

 

Mujitsu)