【 ♞ 】— It wasn’t unusual for Ichigo to randomly pop into the Soul Society, though usually he did have a reason for coming, sometimes it was just to visit his friends that resided there. He normally came to spar with Renji, but he had to be careful not to release too much reiatsu lest Kenpachi sniff him out. Most of the time, that happened anyway, considering Ichigo wasn’t all that good at controlling his reiatsu.
Ichigo could pass through the official Senkaimon, but that meant he’d have to wait to be granted access, given a hell butterfly, then he’d have to deal with the Kido Corps. So-- he may or may not have bullied Urahara into opening a gate for him since he couldn’t quite figure it out yet. Renji had tried teaching him, and it had looked simple enough-- just stick your sword into an empty space and twist it like a key. Though Ichigo couldn’t get the hang of it, he had a feeling it had less to do with his capability and more to do with the fact that he wasn’t a full Shinigami.
Once he reached the other side of the gate, Ichigo immediately steadied his feet in mid air, used to the ridiculous places Urahara would open the gate by now. He wondered if opening the gate had something to do with kido-- how fascinating would it be to use kido? The teenager had pondered over this on numerous occasions, but he doubted he could ever learn how to use kido. Rukia had often scolded him that it required you to be able to control and concentrate your reiatsu to form a weapon, but he was more of a brute when it came to his style of fighting anyway.
Ah, speaking of Rukia. Where was she?
He could look for Renji and they could train together like they always did, or he could seek out Rukia instead. Come to think of it-- he and Rukia had never really sparred against one another. Crossing his arms, Ichigo looked to his left, then his right, the location of Byakuya’s manor slipping his mind. Rukia could very well be anywhere in the Soul Society, but looking there seemed like his luckiest bet.
【 ♞ 】— “Ah, jeez-- why does this damn place have to be so friggin’ huge?” Grumbling, the substitute began to fly in no direction in particular, watching below him as the streets and buildings flitted by. He landed in a magnificent garden, the soft chirp of birds and the light trickling of a small fountain nearby very relaxing. This looked like the place-- though there could be another noble with a royal house similar to Byakuya’s.
Maybe he’d get lucky and run into her.