Ichigo Kurosaki's Battle with His Other Self

Ichigo Kurosaki's body slumped to the ground, unconscious. The air within the barrier seemed to freeze, and everyone's gaze was fixed on the quietly lying body.

Liu Hao stood still, looking down at Ichigo Kurosaki with an expression so calm it was almost indifferent. He didn't crouch down to check on him, nor did he cast any healing spells; he simply waited quietly.

"I'll suppress it first," Liu Hao said to Shinji Hirako without turning his head.

Shinji Hirako gave him a deep look, nodded, and turned to leave the barrier. The others remained silent—they knew what was about to happen, knew this was a war that Ichigo Kurosaki had to face alone.

Only Liu Hao and the unconscious Ichigo Kurosaki remained inside the barrier.

And that being that is about to awaken.

Dark.

Endless darkness.

Ichigo Kurosaki felt himself floating in a void, without up or down, left or right, without direction. He wanted to struggle, wanted to shout, but his body wouldn't obey him, and no sound came out of his throat.

Then, the darkness began to fade.

He opened his eyes and found himself standing in the ruins of an abandoned city. Skyscrapers were dilapidated, streets were cracked, and the sky was gray, without sun or moon, only an eternal gloom.

This is his Inner World. He has been here many times, but never before has he felt every inch of this space so clearly.

Ahead, on the top of a tall building, a figure was crouching.

That was him.

Or rather, that was the Hollow within him— White Ichigo. White skin, black hair, a white Shihakushō, and a signature, cynical smile on his face. He crouched on the edge of a tall building, his hand supporting his chin, looking down at Ichigo Kurosaki.

"Hey, Ichigo," White Ichigo greeted with a smile, his voice echoing through the empty ruins, "It's been a long time."

Ichigo Kurosaki stood still, looking up at White Ichigo, his expression as solemn as a statue. His hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white from the force.

White Ichigo tilted his head, his smile turning playful, "Why do you look so worried?"

Ichigo Kurosaki opened his mouth, as if to say something, but swallowed the words back. He looked around, seemingly searching for something.

"You mean to say Zangetsu?" White Ichigo spoke up for him, his tone slightly mocking.

"No," Ichigo Kurosaki said hastily, "I meant to say—"

"What did you say?" White Ichigo interrupted him, drawing a white Zangetsu from behind him, its blade reflecting an eerie light against the gray sky. "Are you referring to the Zangetsu on your back, or the Zangetsu in my hand?"

His tone was full of sarcasm, but a complex emotion flashed in his eyes.

Ichigo Kurosaki a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He looked at White Ichigo and said, word by word, "No. I know—you are Zangetsu."

These words caused White Ichigo's expression to freeze for a moment. He stared at Ichigo Kurosaki, remained silent for a few seconds, and then smiled again, but with a hint of coldness in his smile.

So what?

Ichigo Kurosaki took a step forward, his voice earnest. "Can't we talk this over?"

"Talk?" White Ichigo stood up, looking down at him with suppressed anger. "Talk about what? Talk about how you carried me around getting beaten up?"

"How could that be? We—"

"Enough." White Ichigo interrupted him, his expression turning completely cold. "I heard everything your Liu Shu told you. You want my approval, is that it?"

He leaped from the top of the building and landed lightly in front of Ichigo Kurosaki, only a few steps away.

"But how can I accept you looking like this?" White Ichigo's voice was icy cold. "Just like your Liu Shu said—defeat me, and only then will you be worthy of my approval."

Before he finished speaking, he had already moved.

The white Zangetsu traced a deadly arc through the air, aiming straight for Ichigo Kurosaki's throat. Its speed and power were both astounding, showing absolutely no mercy.

Ichigo Kurosaki instinctively raised his Zangetsu to parry. The blades clashed, sparks flew, and the immense impact sent him sliding back several steps.

He steadied himself, looked at White Ichigo, and his eyes blazed with fighting spirit.

"Defeat you?" Ichigo Kurosaki's voice became deep and firm. "I will."

"Is that so?" White Ichigo grinned, a wild, animalistic excitement in his eyes. "Then let me see where your confidence comes from."

Ichigo Kurosaki fell silent. He took a deep breath, Zangetsu with both hands, and assumed Bankai stance. Black Reiatsu began to surge from his body, coiling around the blade and forming an eerie and dangerous light.

Seeing this stance, White Ichigo scoffed dismissively. Then, he adopted the same posture—the exact same Bankai stance.

Ichigo Kurosaki's pupils contracted slightly. He realized that White Ichigo possessed the exact same abilities as him, and might even be stronger.

But there was no turning back.

"Bankai-- "

The two men growled simultaneously.

Black and white Reiatsu simultaneously, creating towering waves in the ruins. Smoke and dust filled the air, and debris flew everywhere. When the smoke cleared, both of them had completed their Bankai.

The black Tensa Zangetsu was held in Ichigo Kurosaki's hand.

The white Tensa Zangetsu was held in White Ichigo's hand.

Two blades, two colors, the same shape, the same power.

They both moved at the same time.

Their speed was too fast for the naked eye to follow; only two afterimages could be seen colliding, intersecting, separating, and then colliding again in the air. The sound of blades clashing was as dense as a torrential rain, and each collision unleashed an astonishing Reiatsu shock.

While attacking, White Ichigo laughed and said, "Don't be so serious! Come on, cheer up!"

Ichigo Kurosaki gritted his teeth and didn't respond. He focused all his energy on the battle, trying to find an opening in White Ichigo's defenses.

But White Ichigo's attacks were fluid and flawless.

After an exchange, Ichigo Kurosaki finally seized an opportunity, unleashing a powerful blow that sent White Ichigo flying. White Ichigo's body crashed into a distant skyscraper like a cannonball, the entire building trembling with a deafening roar.

Ichigo Kurosaki gave him no chance to catch his breath. He raised Tensa Zangetsu, and black Reiatsu condensed on the blade. The Reiatsu grew thicker and stronger, eventually turning into a mass of almost solidified darkness.

"Getsuga Tenshō!"

He swung his sword fiercely, and a black crescent-shaped slash flew out, rushing towards White Ichigo with an aura of annihilation.

As soon as White Ichigo stood up from the ruins, he saw the black crescent moon rushing towards him. But there was no fear on his face, only mockery.

He raised his hand and waved it casually.

He cleaved the black Getsuga Tenshō in two, which swept past him and blasted two huge craters in the ruins behind him.

White Ichigo stood there unharmed.

Ichigo Kurosaki's heart sank to the bottom. He knew White Ichigo was strong, but he didn't expect him to be this strong—his strongest attack was so easily neutralized.

White Ichigo gave him no time to be shocked. In a flash, he appeared in front of Ichigo Kurosaki. The black Tensa Zangetsu blocked his blade, but White Ichigo's other hand was already on the back of the blade.

"Getsuga Tenshō."

A white light burst forth from the blade, striking Ichigo Kurosaki directly at point-blank range.

Boom--

Amidst the deafening explosion, Ichigo Kurosaki was completely engulfed by the white light. He tumbled and struggled in the impact, finally crashing heavily to the ground, his body covered in wounds, his clothes stained crimson with blood.

As the smoke cleared, White Ichigo slowly walked up to him, looked down at him, and saw no pity in his eyes, only disappointment.

"Ichigo, you're really weak." White Ichigo's voice was eerily calm. "Don't forget, in Bankai form, I was the first to use Getsuga Tenshō. You're just imitating, and not even very well."

He reached out and grasped the black Tensa Zangetsu in Ichigo Kurosaki's hand.

"Ichigo, you should save your breath," White Ichigo said softly, tightening his grip slightly. "You can't even use Bankai."

As he spoke, the black Tensa Zangetsu began to change. The black on the blade faded, turning white, and then began to disintegrate, turning into countless points of light that dissipated into the air.

Ichigo Kurosaki watched in horror as the blade in his hand vanished, instinctively shouting, "Zangetsu!"

"This is really a headache," White Ichigo, looking at him with a hint of helplessness in his voice. "You know perfectly well that I am Zangetsu, so why do you still shout 'Zangetsu' at a vanished sword?"

He pressed his hand against Ichigo Kurosaki's face and shoved him hard.

Ichigo Kurosaki was sent flying backward as if struck by a battering ram, crashing heavily into the distant ruins. The walls cracked, rubble fell, and he was buried in the debris.

White Ichigo stood there, staring at the ruins, his voice echoing in the empty space. "Ichigo, how come you still don't understand? The weapons are all gone, and you're still standing there in a daze."

He strode forward, each step carrying an air of pressure. "Ichigo, do you know the difference between a king and a mount?"

Ichigo Kurosaki struggled to his feet from the rubble, covered in wounds and panting heavily. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm asking about the king and his mount," White Ichigo's voice deepened, "Not some childish question like two legs versus four legs."

He stopped and looked at Ichigo Kurosaki, his gaze sharp. "Two people with identical appearances, abilities, and strength—one who can become a king and dominate the battle, while the other can only serve as a mount. What exactly is the difference between them?"

Ichigo Kurosaki fell silent. He couldn't answer the question.

White Ichigo asked himself the question, each word striking Ichigo Kurosaki's heart like a hammer blow. "That is, instinct."

His voice rose, filled with long-suppressed anger. "That's what those with the same abilities need to unleash even greater power. It's what's necessary to become king!"

He stepped forward, his Reiatsu surging. "To fight relentlessly, to pursue power, to crush the enemy without hesitation, to tear them apart, to slice them to pieces—this is the absolute thirst for battle! It's about peeling off our skin, ripping out our flesh, shattering our bones, reaching deep into our nerves, etched into our primal instincts, a heightened, instinctive killing reflex!"

He pointed at Ichigo Kurosaki, his voice filled with disappointment and anger. "But I see absolutely no such blatant instinct in you! You use reason to guide your battles, you want to defeat your enemies with reason! What can a sword that hasn't been drawn kill?!"

He raised the white Tensa Zangetsu, pointing it at Ichigo Kurosaki: "So, that's why you're weaker than me— Ichigo."

With a flick of his wrist, the white blade flew out of his hand, tracing a perfect arc in the air before piercing directly into Ichigo Kurosaki's abdomen.

Pfft--

Blood splattered. Ichigo Kurosaki's eyes widened as he looked down at the blade embedded in his abdomen, the white blade almost piercing through him.

White Ichigo walked slowly towards him, his footsteps echoing clearly in the silent ruins. As he walked, he said, "I've had enough of this, Ichigo. That guy can do whatever he wants, but I can't stand a king worse than myself carrying me around, running away, and ending up dying together!"

He stopped in front of Ichigo Kurosaki, reached out and grasped the hilt of the white Tensa Zangetsu stuck in his abdomen, and faced Ichigo Kurosaki, their eyes meeting.

"Since you're so incompetent, then I'll kill you," White Ichigo's voice was icy cold. "After that, I'll be king."

He began to slowly pull out the blade. The white blade was gradually withdrawn from Ichigo Kurosaki's body, and with each inch it was pulled out, Ichigo Kurosaki's life force was drained away. Blood gushed from the wound like a spring, staining the ground red.

Ichigo Kurosaki's consciousness began to fade. He could feel death approaching, and he could feel White Ichigo's determination—he was serious, he really wanted to take his place.

[Knife...]

A thought flashed through Ichigo Kurosaki's mind.

[The instinct to fight... I can't hand over the sword...]

His right hand shot up and gripped the white blade tightly.

White Ichigo paused. He looked at Ichigo Kurosaki's hand, at that hand gripping the blade tightly, even as the blade cut his palm and blood dripped down, he didn't let go.

Then, black Reiatsu began to surge from Ichigo Kurosaki's hands.

That Reiatsu was different from before—it was no longer an imitation of White Ichigo's Getsuga Tenshō, but a pure, instinctive power originating from the deepest, most primal force within Ichigo Kurosaki's heart. Black light burned like flames, spreading upwards along the blade and surging towards White Ichigo.

White Ichigo stared in shock at the black light. He could feel the power contained within it—it was Ichigo Kurosaki's true power, a power he had always longed for but had never seen before.

He instinctively let go, stepped back, and distanced himself from Ichigo Kurosaki.

Ichigo Kurosaki did not pursue. He looked down at the white blade embedded in his abdomen, took a deep breath, and pulled it out with a swift motion. Blood spurted out again, but he did not fall; instead, he stood even straighter.

A black Reiatsu erupted from his body, more powerful than ever before. The Reiatsu coiled around him, forming strange yet beautiful patterns, like burning black flames.

He gripped the white Tensa Zangetsu tightly—no, it was no longer white. Black Reiatsu had completely corrupted it, transforming it into a brand new blade that belonged solely to Ichigo Kurosaki.

Without a word, without a warning, Ichigo Kurosaki's figure flashed and appeared in front of White Ichigo. The blade swung out, aiming straight for White Ichigo's chest.

White Ichigo tried to dodge and block, but it was too fast— Ichigo Kurosaki was too fast, so fast that he couldn't react at all.

Pfft--

The blade pierced through White Ichigo's body.

Black and white Reiatsu surged from the blade, completely blackening White Ichigo's body. The black light spread and diffused within him, eventually enveloping him entirely.

White Ichigo looked down at the blade in his chest, then looked up at Ichigo Kurosaki. His eyes held no anger, no mockery, only a complex, indescribable emotion.

"Damn it," White Ichigo muttered, a smile playing on his lips, "It seems you still retain some of your fighting instincts. In that case, I'll admit defeat for now."

He reached out and grasped the blade that had pierced him. The movement was gentle yet firm, like the completion of some kind of ritual.

"Here's a piece of advice," White Ichigo said, his voice becoming calm, "My power isn't so easy to control. If you truly want to control my power, then whatever you do, don't die before I appear again."

Ichigo Kurosaki looked at White Ichigo, wanting to say something, but the words wouldn't come out.

White Ichigo's hand suddenly tightened. An astonishing Reiatsu erupted from the blade, the light so intense and so scorching that everything became blurred.

Boom--

A huge explosion rang out. A white light engulfed everything.

Ichigo Kurosaki closed his eyes, letting the light engulf him.