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When a Hollow is killed by a Quincy’s strike, it is annihilated utterly, as are the remnants of all of the souls that it has ever consumed. This is one of the main sources of the ancient rivalry between the Shinigami and the Quincies, and the one that officially lead to their supposed massacre. Death given by a Quincy is ultimate and final, and that means that those souls can no longer return to the cycle of reincarnation, leading to an imbalance between the Living World and Soul Society.
When a Hollow is struck down by a zanpakuto, it is a cleansing strike that not only defeats the Hollow, but purifies it and all of the souls that it has consumed in its time. And so those souls have the chance to be reborn into a cleansing existence in Soul Society as individuals once more. The nature of Hollows means that often those souls remember almost nothing of their previous lives or identities, having been subsumed into the greater mass and identity of the Hollow itself.
Of course, those souls aren’t often former Quincies, with all of the determination, discipline, and resolve that is required of that rare people.
—————
When Kurosaki Isshin finally defeated the Hollow called Grand Fisher, he avenged his wife’s death and the injuries to his children, and finally eased what had been a near-constant pain of loss. In the midst of all that was happening, what with the traitor Aizen Souske’s impending invasion, he forgot that the cut of a zanpakuto purified souls and released them to Soul Society.
And within the depths of Soul Society itself, at the edge of a district in the Rukongai, Kurosaki Masaki woke up to herself for the first time in seven [note: nine? check timeline] years.
—
“Miss? Excuse me, Miss? Are you- Ah, you are awake. Good morning!”
Masaki blinked up at the roof above her, and at the young woman who was kneeling at her side and smiling delightedly. The girl was dressed in a simple kimono, somewhat worn but still in good repair, and her hair was drawn back into an equally simple bun. She was also a complete stranger.
“Good morning?” Masaki’s voice was hesitant even as she tried to sort through her memories to figure out where she might be. There was something...something important. Very important. She started to sit up, and the girl leaned forward to assist her, adjusting the blankets about her to keep her covered.
“I’m glad that you woke up. Mother said that you would be soon, and she’s helped a lot of new arrivals.” The prattle was cheerful and relaxed, almost seeming to be automatic as she got Masaki comfortable on the futon that she’d been lying on before. “I’ve only just started helping out, so I’m not as good at judging it. I’ll be as good at helping people as her someday, though!”
“New arrivals?” That something important was still nagging at her, distracting her further. Or maybe it had something to do with what the girl was saying, after all.
“Oh! That’s right, sometimes it takes a bit to remember. You’re in Soul Society, Miss - you died, back in the Living World, and now you’re here.”
And there it was. The memories struck Masaki like a physical blow, and she swayed as her brown eyes went wide, her red hair falling loosely down her shoulders as she hunched forward.
“Ichigo!” He’d rushed heedlessly forward toward the Hollow’s decoy, ever trying to be the protector that they’d named him, and it had taken her far too long to notice the reiatsu signature was wrong for a human or even a normal Plus. She had run forward, ready to call her bow to protect her child even if she and Isshin had wanted to hide this part of their life from their children longer, when-
She had flung herself between Ichigo and the Hollow, and her bow hadn’t come. Her power had flooded from her, been torn from her all at once in a rush of agony worse than the bite of a Hollow, and it had left her helpless in the monster’s path. The part that hurt even more had been the knowledge that her baby boy was behind her, helpless and unknowing and a brilliant beacon of power to any Hollow and she couldn’t protect him.
The pain of being killed, of her soul being consumed even as she fought the Hollow with what little power she had left, was nothing next to the fear of losing her oldest child.
“Miss, breathe! Please try to calm down, I know that it must have been awful, but there’s nothing that you can do now. Please breathe, it’ll be alright.” The girl was trying, Masaki knew that she was, but the fog of ignorance had finally lifted, and Masaki was a Quincy. She would not run from her fears, even when her fear was her own memory.
“I have to remember,” she rasped, looking up with teary eyes, and then gathered her resolve and dove back into her memories.
Even after the Hollow had consumed her, she hadn’t entirely lost her sense of self. There had been so many other souls, and even more had been added to the collective as Grand Fisher had continued to hunt and trap and feed. She had made herself very small and very quiet, and while she might no longer have all of the Quincy power that she once had, she’d still had all of the training and self-discipline that had required.
It had still been difficult. Other souls had been eaten and absorbed as well, and she’d watched as the Hollow had grown stronger and stronger as they’d been folded away within its collective self. There’d been more than one moment where she’d been tempted to join them, or even to try and take over the Hollow from the inside. But that would make her just as bad as the creature, and she knew that she wouldn’t have been able to ignore the instincts forever.
So she’d held herself aloof and apart as best she could, even when she Grand Fisher faced down Shinigami and used her face and her memories to torment them. Masaki hadn’t been sure how long she could hold out, but she’d been determined to last as long as she could. And then...the last of her memories were blurred. Pain and further change as something was done to Grand Fisher to give it even more power, and she’d clung to the last of her self-identity with all the strength that she had left, until it all culminated in...
Isshin’s face. Her husband’s face, sad and angry and determined all at once, wearing his Shinigami uniform again and wielding the sword that she hadn’t seen since he’d given up his powers for her. It had felt almost like he was looking right at her even as his zanpakuto had cut through Grand Fisher’s mask.
Masaki came back to herself, and knew that she was crying. She was like Ichigo - she didn’t cry neatly. Instead she tended to sob messily with great, blubbering tears all over. It was done. She was free of the Hollow. She was free. Faintly she could hear the girl pulling another blanket over for her and retrieving tissues and water, but that didn’t matter right now. She was free, and she could finally grieve.
But why did she remember facing off against a young man with Ichigo’s face grown older who was wearing a Shinigami uniform?
——
When a Hollow is struck down by a zanpakuto, it is a cleansing strike that not only defeats the Hollow, but purifies it and all of the souls that it has consumed in its time. And so those souls have the chance to be reborn into a cleansing existence in Soul Society as individuals once more. The nature of Hollows means that often those souls remember almost nothing of their previous lives or identities, having been subsumed into the greater mass and identity of the Hollow itself.
Of course, those souls aren’t often former Quincies, with all of the determination, discipline, and resolve that is required of that rare people.
—————
When Kurosaki Isshin finally defeated the Hollow called Grand Fisher, he avenged his wife’s death and the injuries to his children, and finally eased what had been a near-constant pain of loss. In the midst of all that was happening, what with the traitor Aizen Souske’s impending invasion, he forgot that the cut of a zanpakuto purified souls and released them to Soul Society.
And within the depths of Soul Society itself, at the edge of a district in the Rukongai, Kurosaki Masaki woke up to herself for the first time in seven [note: nine? check timeline] years.
—
“Miss? Excuse me, Miss? Are you- Ah, you are awake. Good morning!”
Masaki blinked up at the roof above her, and at the young woman who was kneeling at her side and smiling delightedly. The girl was dressed in a simple kimono, somewhat worn but still in good repair, and her hair was drawn back into an equally simple bun. She was also a complete stranger.
“Good morning?” Masaki’s voice was hesitant even as she tried to sort through her memories to figure out where she might be. There was something...something important. Very important. She started to sit up, and the girl leaned forward to assist her, adjusting the blankets about her to keep her covered.
“I’m glad that you woke up. Mother said that you would be soon, and she’s helped a lot of new arrivals.” The prattle was cheerful and relaxed, almost seeming to be automatic as she got Masaki comfortable on the futon that she’d been lying on before. “I’ve only just started helping out, so I’m not as good at judging it. I’ll be as good at helping people as her someday, though!”
“New arrivals?” That something important was still nagging at her, distracting her further. Or maybe it had something to do with what the girl was saying, after all.
“Oh! That’s right, sometimes it takes a bit to remember. You’re in Soul Society, Miss - you died, back in the Living World, and now you’re here.”
And there it was. The memories struck Masaki like a physical blow, and she swayed as her brown eyes went wide, her red hair falling loosely down her shoulders as she hunched forward.
“Ichigo!” He’d rushed heedlessly forward toward the Hollow’s decoy, ever trying to be the protector that they’d named him, and it had taken her far too long to notice the reiatsu signature was wrong for a human or even a normal Plus. She had run forward, ready to call her bow to protect her child even if she and Isshin had wanted to hide this part of their life from their children longer, when-
She had flung herself between Ichigo and the Hollow, and her bow hadn’t come. Her power had flooded from her, been torn from her all at once in a rush of agony worse than the bite of a Hollow, and it had left her helpless in the monster’s path. The part that hurt even more had been the knowledge that her baby boy was behind her, helpless and unknowing and a brilliant beacon of power to any Hollow and she couldn’t protect him.
The pain of being killed, of her soul being consumed even as she fought the Hollow with what little power she had left, was nothing next to the fear of losing her oldest child.
“Miss, breathe! Please try to calm down, I know that it must have been awful, but there’s nothing that you can do now. Please breathe, it’ll be alright.” The girl was trying, Masaki knew that she was, but the fog of ignorance had finally lifted, and Masaki was a Quincy. She would not run from her fears, even when her fear was her own memory.
“I have to remember,” she rasped, looking up with teary eyes, and then gathered her resolve and dove back into her memories.
Even after the Hollow had consumed her, she hadn’t entirely lost her sense of self. There had been so many other souls, and even more had been added to the collective as Grand Fisher had continued to hunt and trap and feed. She had made herself very small and very quiet, and while she might no longer have all of the Quincy power that she once had, she’d still had all of the training and self-discipline that had required.
It had still been difficult. Other souls had been eaten and absorbed as well, and she’d watched as the Hollow had grown stronger and stronger as they’d been folded away within its collective self. There’d been more than one moment where she’d been tempted to join them, or even to try and take over the Hollow from the inside. But that would make her just as bad as the creature, and she knew that she wouldn’t have been able to ignore the instincts forever.
So she’d held herself aloof and apart as best she could, even when she Grand Fisher faced down Shinigami and used her face and her memories to torment them. Masaki hadn’t been sure how long she could hold out, but she’d been determined to last as long as she could. And then...the last of her memories were blurred. Pain and further change as something was done to Grand Fisher to give it even more power, and she’d clung to the last of her self-identity with all the strength that she had left, until it all culminated in...
Isshin’s face. Her husband’s face, sad and angry and determined all at once, wearing his Shinigami uniform again and wielding the sword that she hadn’t seen since he’d given up his powers for her. It had felt almost like he was looking right at her even as his zanpakuto had cut through Grand Fisher’s mask.
Masaki came back to herself, and knew that she was crying. She was like Ichigo - she didn’t cry neatly. Instead she tended to sob messily with great, blubbering tears all over. It was done. She was free of the Hollow. She was free. Faintly she could hear the girl pulling another blanket over for her and retrieving tissues and water, but that didn’t matter right now. She was free, and she could finally grieve.
But why did she remember facing off against a young man with Ichigo’s face grown older who was wearing a Shinigami uniform?
——
