When it finally happens, it doesn’t really feel like he has his powers back; instead it feels like waking up after a long, long dream, and everything before had been sluggish and muted and dull.
He sees her first—feels her first, the pulse of her reiatsu threading itself through his own. In that moment Ichigo doesn’t know how he’d gone so long without these: the weight of Zangetsu and his shihakusho settling softly over his shoulders, his power thrumming thickly through his veins and her her her her her.
Ichigo doesn’t think he would die without her, that his life would be meaningless without her or that she or his powers were all he had to live for. But, but.
You have been gone for so long.
Seventeen whole months, and it was like he had been asleep all along.