WARNINGS: Forced assisted suicide at the end. Descriptions of violence. Descriptions of blood. Implications of depression out the wazoo. Implications of Bad Things happening to Lots of People off screen. Brief mention of genocide. Social Outcast who Never Finds His Place. Maybe other things that I've overlooked.
READ THE WARNINGS PLEASE. This is not a nice story. This is the story about one young boy who slips through the cracks. This is the story of a teen who has no family, no friends, and nowhere to turn when a madman comes to him and offers him a place at his side. THERE IS NO HAPPY ENDING FOR ANYONE. Uryuu isn't classically evil here, but he is certainly irredeemable by the end. (I don't think I can write a classically evil version of Uryuu, and I'm certainly not going to try. This was bad enough.)
This is for BiblioMatsuri, who spawned this hellbeast of a fic. Without them, I would have never done this.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. Probably a good thing.
Uryuu frowned at the empty desks where Kurosaki and Kuchiki had sat the day before. More, he frowned at the way only Kurosaki's disappearance was being commented on, as if no one even remembered that Kuchiki had existed. It was an abrupt, jarring discovery to make, and had him wondering about the efficiency of the Shinigami.
The rumors that were floating around stretched from believable and into the absurd. Depending upon which conversation Uryuu decided to eavesdrop upon, the substitute Shinigami had either gotten attacked by a coalition of bullies and sent to the hospital, or he was currently on his death-bed due to any number of diseases or illnesses.
It all stank of a cover-up, and of Shinigami interference. Whatever had happened last night during those flares of reiatsu had been enough to put Kurosaki down. He almost wished he had investigated, but he had been tired from breaking into Ryuuken's stores of Quincy gear and had decided against it.
Uryuu reached into his jacket pocket, fingering the Hollow Bait he'd procured, and stared down at his desk in thought. No Kurosaki meant no challenge, and meant that his efforts had been in vain. But it also meant that Kurosaki wasn't bumbling about causing chaos and destroying things all in the name of 'purifying Hollows'.
He resolved to ignore it. The bait might prove useful down the line, but with Kurosaki out of commission there was no need to use it. Hopefully the idiot had learned his lesson about dealing with Shinigami, and would leave Hollows to those with more experience from now on.
(Shinigami only existed to betray, after all.)
This was the coldest summer he could remember, Uryuu decided, as he leaned against his windowsill and stared out at the darkening landscape. It wasn't that the temperatures were abnormal, but simply that the blanket of near-choking heat that was Kurosaki's reiatsu was dissipating like mist before the sun. Without it, even the midday sun felt like ice against his skin, and he almost expected his breath to emerge in misty little puffs of white whenever he exhaled.
Spirit ribbons bloomed around his body, a collection of pure, unmarred white like freshly fallen snow. He didn't even pay attention to them, already knowing what he would find. No Kurosaki. No Sado. No Inoue. Three spiritually empowered teens from his class, who all had dealings with Kuchiki before she vanished.
The question was, was their disappearance against their will or not?
He had lingered around Kurosaki's place as much as he dared, but picked up nothing more than that his sisters expected him home 'at some point'. Sado had no other companions that Uryuu could find, and Arisawa never talked about Inoue in public beyond that she was 'on vacation'.
None of it told him if they would ever return, or in what state they would return in. 'Vacation' seemed… unlikely in his mind. Their disappearance was too close to Kuchiki's, and everything Uryuu knew about Kurosaki said that the other was unlikely to leave his sisters behind if he could help it.
Uryuu stared up at the darkened sky, and considered the future.
The waning of Kurosaki's reiatsu was like trying to breathe atop a mountain. He would need to increase his training to compensate.
(Maybe he could finally be warm again.)
It was late evening when Kurosaki's reiatsu flooded back into Karakura, an overwhelming torrent of power that threatened to sweep him away. Startled, Uryuu twitched towards the source, then bit back a curse as his sewing needle slipped and stabbed his thumb. A drop of bright crimson welled up in response, and Uryuu quickly snatched his hand away before it could stain the shirt he was working on.
Uryuu felt like he was drowning. Kurosaki's reiatsu was everywhere, even moments after he had returned, and one tiny, hysterical part of Uryuu wondered 'how had the Shinigami handled this?'
Because it was powerful, it was all-encompassing, and there was a harsh, jagged edge to the sensation that had never previously been there before. Something had changed in the time Kurosaki had been away; something to make the teen both stronger and more dangerous than ever. Uryuu had trained hard in the weeks Kurosaki had been away to account for the teen's missing presence, and now that extra sensitivity burned like fire through his veins, consuming him from within.
Cautiously, Uryuu reached out with his senses, brushing against the reiatsu that surrounded him, and 'watched' the way it twitched and roiled. Kurosaki didn't seem to be consciously aware of him, but the light prodding did make the reiatsu retreat a bit from him, affording him some breathing room at last. And even when he pulled his reiatsu back within his soul and Kurosaki's reiatsu swept back into the empty space between them, it didn't feel like he was drowning anymore. It coiled around his body, feather-light and there, like a blanket against a cool spring wind.
Something, it seemed, had finally taught Kurosaki's subconscious the value of delicacy.
(He was finally warm.)
"What the hell did you idiots get involved in?!"
Uryuu frowned at the muffled voice that invaded the quiet shop he'd been browsing through. That had sounded like one of his classmates, but the pure, primal fury of it was at odds with what he knew of Arisawa. Curious despite himself, Uryuu set down the bolt of fabric he'd been considering and moved towards the door. He positioned himself near one of the racks of fat quarters and scanned the area for the source.
Not that it was hard to discover.
Kurosaki stood in front of Arisawa, stiff with restrained fury of his own. His stupid perpetual scowl was twisted into what Uryuu could only classify as a snarl, all teeth and rage like a trapped animal.
"You can just shut the hell up," Kurosaki growled. "Orihime's fine, and if she wants to talk to you about it, she will."
"Fine? Fine?!" Arisawa shrieked, her body shifting to take a fighting stance. "She wakes up screaming! I caught her scrubbing her hands until they bled! If that's what you consider fine I don't want to know what you consider not fine!"
Uryuu swallowed and inched backwards, hiding his body further behind the displays nearby. Kurosaki's reiatsu had turned violent and oppressive, and Uryuu instinctively pulled his own even further within his body to escape the feeling of teeth-claws-fury-death that swirled around. He would do anything to avoid provoking that sensation against himself, even if it meant becoming invisible.
Still, what could have driven the perpetually cheerful Inoue to such extremes? What nightmares drove her to wake screaming? What had she done that sent her into loops of hand-washing until her skin cracked and bled of it? It left a bad taste in Uryuu's mouth, and a helpless feeling in his chest.
"Look, I can't talk about it here," Kurosaki replied after trying to glare Arisawa into submission and failing. His shoulders slumped and all the violence drained out of his reiatsu in a rush. "Just… come meet me at the Urahara Shoten tomorrow afternoon."
"Why not right now?" Arisawa warily questioned him.
"Because it's not just my story to tell," Kurosaki replied sharply. "Chad has a part, and Orihime has a part, and I have a part, and several other people have a part too. If you actually want to know, you'll respect that and give me time to get them all together."
She snorted at Kurosaki's words, but seemed to accept that it was the best option she would be given. With one final glower up at Kurosaki, Arisawa turned on her heel and stalked off, saying as she left, "Fine! But I better get the whole truth, and no more of Orihime's evasions!"
"You will," Kurosaki answered, before he turned to stalk off in the opposite direction.
In the quiet of the nearly empty store, Uryuu stood beside the displays of quilting materials and tried to wrap his head around what he had just witnessed. In a daze, he paid for the few items he had already decided upon, then left to return to his apartment.
Uryuu dropped his shopping beside the door, scooped up a notebook and pen, and sat down at his desk immediately. What little he knew for certain was written down in a quick shorthand, and from there he started to extrapolate out.
"They went after Kuchiki," Uryuu spoke into the cold silence. Three pages of thoughts and potential events sat before him, filled edge-to-edge with his note-taking shorthand, and painted a damning picture. "She must have broken some sort of law, and Kurosaki felt it was unwarranted. In the process, Inoue was… injured. Somehow."
Uryuu's lips thinned, troubled by his own words. 'Injured' seemed far too innocent a term, given what Arisawa had shouted in the street. He refused to become a doctor, but that didn't preclude him from knowing things, just from living with Ryuuken until he could prove himself capable of living on his own. Nightmares and scrubbing her hands until she bled was less 'injured' and more 'done the unthinkable', if Uryuu was remembering right. Even if it was accidental, something terrible had still happened to (or because of) her.
"If the law she broke was that of giving Kurosaki her powers," Uryuu mused aloud, trying to dispel the chill that had settled into his heart at the thought of Inoue's troubles. "Then Kurosaki would have felt obligated to protect her. After all, it likely wasn't Kuchiki's fault that she was sent here while still incapable of handling the Hollows that Kurosaki's ridiculous reiatsu draws in."
He sighed and shook his head, then crumpled his pages of notes up and flicked them into the trashcan next to his desk. Whether his guess was right or not didn't matter in the long run. He still hated them.
This was merely yet another reason.
For scarred Inoue. For a Shinigami cast away by her own people. For his grandfather who spoke of working together and was left to struggle until it was too late.
Uryuu's hand clenched into a fist.
(He would carve this truth upon his soul.)
(Shinigami will betray even their own.)
Uryuu narrowed his eyes and absently fiddled with his glasses, considering Kurosaki as the teen stalked into the classroom with Sado, Inoue, and Arisawa on his heels. There was a strange, tacky talisman hanging from Kurosaki's pocket that no one else seemed to notice, despite how obvious it was. He forced himself to look away from the thing and at the blackboard instead, trying to ignore the shiver down his spine at the sight of it.
There was definitely something changed about Kurosaki, Uryuu decided, as he eyed his classmate out of the corner of his vision. He didn't dare reach out with his reiatsu, not when he didn't know how sensitive the other was these days, but he really didn't need to. Kurosaki's darting gaze and tense shoulders said enough.
Sado and Inoue were hardly what he remembered them being, either. Inoue was practically glued to Kurosaki's side, with Sado at her back and Arisawa guarding her other side. Not even Honshou was allowed within their protective sphere, casually blocked from reaching Inoue by one of Sado's massive hands.
It all spoke of something that left a sick taste in Uryuu's mouth, and he had to tear his gaze away before they caught him staring.
Uryuu absently filled in his schedule, marking daily classes and tasks, and mulled over the visible changes he had been presented with. Classes passed by in a dull haze of review and outlines, and Uryuu found himself no closer to an answer than he had been in the morning. What had happened to them to cause this level of change, and why was no one doing anything?
The sudden shrieking of 'Hollow! Hollow!' snapped Uryuu from his thoughts and his gaze towards Kurosaki, who was clutching his tacky talisman and warily looking around the classroom. Before he could be spotted, be caught, Uryuu looked away. That he was the only one outside of Kurosaki's little clique that had reacted told him everything he needed to know.
Kurosaki, Inoue, and Sado rushed from the classroom, spilling horrible excuses in their wake.
Uryuu set his pen down before he snapped it, then shook his hand out to regain feeling in his numb fingers.
(Kurosaki was a Shinigami.)
(He should have expected that.)
Uryuu wearily dropped his books on his desk at home, then slumped in his seat and buried his face in his arms. Class was torture, and it wasn't because of the lessons.
Shinigami had invaded his class.
Every morning he had to sit in the same room as five other Shinigami and pretend everything was completely normal. He was holding his reiatsu in so carefully that he was starting to go numb from the pressure, but he didn't dare reveal himself when he had no idea what they were in town for. One Substitute Shinigami his own age was hardly worth mentioning. One Shinigami he could handle. But multiple Shinigami?
He wasn't suicidal.
And there were sides involved. Two of the Shinigami — Kuchiki and her red-haired follower — had been pulled into Kurosaki's clique, and the other three were left standing on the outside, faced with smiles and politeness that even Uryuu could tell was faked. Kurosaki's reiatsu was constantly on alert, constantly focused within their classroom, and it made Uryuu want to just call in sick and avoid class until whatever this was blew over.
Because despite the distrust and wariness, there was a truce involved. It was as if the whole group was waiting. Waiting and watching for something to happen beyond their own uncomfortable situation. Allies of circumstance, of 'the enemy of my enemy' sort, except without the 'is my friend' ending.
It was tempting to snap the Bait. To unleash a flood of Hollows upon these damned Shinigami and drive them from Karakura with their tails between their legs.
Only his desire to remain unseen stayed his hand.
(What were they hunting?)
(Hollows? Quincy?)
(Their own?)
His bow sang under his fingers, as he purged one of the strange human-like Hollows from existence. The thing had decided to come after him while he was walking home from school, and Uryuu had felt no remorse in repaying it with interest. He might not be dressed for combat, but he was no helpless damsel to wait for rescue.
Not that rescue was very likely, Uryuu realized with a start, as he paid attention to what his senses were telling him. Reiatsu spikes were flaring all over Karakura, as the Shinigami entered into combat with more beasts like what he had just destroyed. Even Kurosaki's little clique was involved in combat, their positions telling him that they had been separated at some point.
Was this what the Shinigami had come to Karakura for? This invasion of strange, intelligent Hollows? He'd never heard of such beasts before, and had to wonder at their source and reasons. Why attack the Living World? Why Karakura specifically? Yes, there were a number of powerful humans living here, but the sheer number of Hollows and the way they had split up to deal with everyone spoke of planning.
The angry, terrified flare of Inoue's reiatsu had Uryuu moving before he registered the intention. He found her standing over Arisawa, golden shield between her and a gigantic human-like Hollow, blood tracing a path across her face. There was an edge of insanity to her gaze that frozen the breath in Uryuu's throat, even though it wasn't focused on him.
"I reject," Inoue said, red-stained teeth and soft words and too-wide eyes giving her the air of some monster out of a horror movie.
A thin line of shining gold ripped through the air. Sliced through the Hollow's neck. Cleanly decapitated the beast.
Uryuu flared his bow back to life. Sighted. Shot.
The Hollow's already broken mask shattered completely when his arrow impacted, and the beast's body began to dissolve into reishi.
Inoue turned towards him and gave him a cold, measuring look, before finally inclining her head in thanks and turning back to Arisawa. She knelt next to the crumpled form of her friend and held out her hands, materializing another golden shield that covered Arisawa completely and began to erase the girl's wounds.
"Hey, thanks," Kurosaki's voice drew Uryuu's attention away from watching the impossible. "For helping, I mean."
Uryuu stared at Kurosaki blankly, mind racing for a way to respond. Finding nothing, he just shrugged and let his bow fade away, saying, "Karakura is my town."
Kurosaki looked like he wanted to say something else, but Sado's approach distracted him.
Uryuu left.
(He wasn't running.)
Waking up from a forced 'nap' in Karakura's streets, under the heavy weight of reishi that had no business being there, was just another unexpected, unwelcome adventure.
Uryuu grimaced as he stared at the handful of unconscious people around him. Not a one was stirring, and not a one had even the barest hints of reiatsu about them. He could sense a few people moving about through the town, though: Ryuuken in the distant hospital, the spiritual medium who tormented ghosts, and even a few of Kurosaki's hangers-on.
Wanting to more accurately pinpoint the closest teens, Uryuu pulled up the spirit ribbons, only for his mouth to go dry in terror. Tens, hundreds, thousands of red ribbons coiled around his body, twisting and writhing like snakes poised to strike. Uryuu dropped the technique in a heartbeat, hands trembling from reaction, and stared sightlessly at the sidewalk in front of him.
Why was all of Karakura in Soul Society?
What had happened? Things had been growing more and more tense ever since that Hollow invasion, and Kurosaki and the other teens had vanished from his senses multiple times, but how did that all lead up to this?
Uryuu shook himself. Took a steadying breath. Raised his chin.
He was a Quincy. He was a Quincy, and Karakura was his town. Ryuuken was off being a fool in his hospital, which meant that it was entirely up to Uryuu to do what he could to protect the other people of this town. Uryuu called forth his bow, and took off with a burst of hirenkyaku.
It took time to hunt down the others, to find them when they were fleeing from something he couldn't even sense.
Uryuu didn't bother announcing himself. Just drew his bow and shot an arrow, then darted in to stand between the trembling teens and the monster that followed them.
He was under no delusions; whoever this monster was, crushing Uryuu would be naught but a whim to him. He saw the way things around the man were unmade, reduced to component reishi under the pressure of a power Uryuu couldn't even sense as more than an emptiness. A null-space. Like a black-hole standing right in front of him.
"Run," he told Honshou and the others, as he took a stance and drew his bow. His previous arrow had shattered ineffectually against the monster's chest, but he would not give in.
"Oh? Another little insect has come to join the play," the monster spoke. A cruel smile twisted the man-thing's lips, and Uryuu stumbled back at the not-weight that scoured at his soul and left his hands raw and bleeding. "You're not one of his friends, little insect. Go flit away, before I crush you underfoot."
"Karakura is my town," Uryuu grit out, as his hands and arms went numb from pain. He refused to falter. Refused to give in. He flared his reiatsu as high as he could, determined to guard those behind him from the monster before him.
"An interesting sentiment," the monster told him. "Why would you lay claim to a town that doesn't even see you? How prideful."
Uryuu snarled at the slight, but couldn't refute the words.
"But that's all you are, isn't it." The monster smirked at him, knowing and cruel. "Tell me, does your pride keep you warm at night?"
Before Uryuu could respond, Kurosaki appeared, dressed strangely and carrying his father over one shoulder.
"Aizen," Kurosaki growled. He glanced over at Uryuu, gaze lingering on the crimson blood trickling from Uryuu's fingers, then looked beyond him at the people Uryuu was sheltering.
"Thanks," he told Uryuu once again.
Uryuu bared his teeth at Kurosaki in a mockery of a smile, then turned his attention back to the monster. Aizen was watching them with a peculiar little smile that raised the hairs on the back of Uryuu's neck, and Uryuu had to wonder at the cause.
Kurosaki darted over to Honshou, dropping his father at her feet, then moved back to his previous position. "Get to safety, all of you. I'll deal with him."
Aizen just laughed, and lunged, and suddenly the menacing not-weight of the monster's presence was gone, along with Kurosaki.
Uryuu slowly lowered his bow and let it dissolve, staring at his bleeding hands as if from one remove. He knew he should be feeling pain, or agony, or something; after all, his hands looked like he had reached into a sandstorm and held them there. But all he could feel was an emptiness that made his head echo and his breathing sound as loud as a thunderstorm.
Movement behind him snapped him out of his contemplation, and Uryuu shook his head sharply to dispel the lingering unreality. "Come on. We should head to the hospital."
He'd rather not deal with Ryuuken if he could manage it, but the man was a doctor, and was still conscious. Between his hands and whatever was wrong with Kurosaki's father, a doctor was probably warranted.
The group followed him without fuss. Through the town, into the hospital, and into the cold, disapproving stare of Ryuuken in his element.
"Try not to be so stupid again," Ryuuken told him, voice uncaring. The man's hands were firm and quick as he bandaged Uryuu's, and he left without a backwards glance once that was done.
Uryuu flexed his bandaged fingers. Ignored the whispers of the teens around him. Contemplated his life.
(Why would he ever think a town could see him, when his own father never had?)
The monster's words haunted his nights, even as Kurosaki's reiatsu once more faded from Karakura and left the town feeling cold and lifeless. Winter came and went, and Uryuu ignored the looks he gained for wearing the winter uniform even into the depths of summer. It didn't help in the slightest, but Uryuu tried to pretend it did.
He did his job with mechanical precision. Hunting and killing and letting the repetition numb away everything that didn't fit. Sometimes, if he closed his heart firmly enough, Aizen's words stopped echoing in his head during the still hours of the night.
Uryuu went out. He hunted. He killed. He watched as Kurosaki's human friends clung and hovered, baring their metaphorical teeth at anyone outside their clique who approached. Sometimes that included him. Sometimes it didn't. He saved himself the trouble and merely watched from afar.
But Kurosaki had noticed him, one day. Noticed him fresh from another kill and feeling so tired of hunt-kill-act-normal. Kurosaki had noticed him, and given him another thankful look.
"I appreciate it," Kurosaki murmured, as they moved past one another. "For keeping them safe when I can't."
Uryuu scoffed and refused to admit to the spark of warmth that kindled to life at the words. At the acknowledgment. Instead, he just repeated his words from months ago. "Karakura is my town."
"I know." There was a bitterness to Kurosaki's voice, but it was a bitterness leavened by honest gratitude. A fallen warrior thanking the one who had taken up his post. "I'm glad."
Uryuu walked away, head held high and selfishly clinging to the tiny threads of warmth that lingered within.
(Maybe he didn't need an entire town to see him.)
When Uryuu came to in the hospital room, bandaged and aching and alone, he didn't understand what had happened.
What had been strong enough to take him out so completely? His memory was disturbingly empty, leaving a lingering sense of failure and uselessness behind.
A nurse wandered in, fussed over him, then left.
Silence descended.
Uryuu stared out the window, lethargic from the painkillers and inordinately tired of everything. A Hollow screamed in the distance, and Uryuu didn't even twitch. He… no one would blame him if he just… took a break, would they?
"I see you're awake," Ryuuken said, striding into the room and going immediately to the clipboard with Uryuu's medical information. "Good. How do you feel?"
Uryuu frowned, looking over at the man and wondering at the question. "Why do you care?"
Ryuuken gave him an unimpressed look in return, and said, "As the surgeon that put you back together, I need to know if you are currently suffering any pain or other side effects that might indicate trouble."
"I'm fine," Uryuu replied succinctly. Why had he even wondered at Ryuuken's motives? He was just another patient. "Tired and lethargic, but no pain."
"Mmm. Good." Ryuuken made a few marks on the clipboard, then set it back down. "Tell a nurse if that changes."
Uryuu wasn't even surprised when Ryuuken swept out of the room.
(The guest chair remained perpetually empty.)
Uryuu returned to school and walked right into a situation that was beyond his comprehension.
Kurosaki stood alone for the first time in months, his gaze haunted and his hands trembling as his clique walked right past him without even acknowledging his existence. People who had taken to guarding Kurosaki with the jealousy of a dragon guarding its hoard had ignored the teen they had previously clung to.
And no one seemed to notice. Not Arisawa, or Inoue, or even Sado, who never left Kurosaki's side unless forced to these days. Not the teachers, who had given up separating the clique months ago. Not even the gossipy girls who should have pounced on this show of division amongst the ranks.
Even Uryuu's memories seemed to twist and writhe away, until it was like staring at something through frosted glass. But he knew this was wrong, knew it so deep within his soul that he had taken a few steps towards Kurosaki before he had decided upon an action.
If Kurosaki's friends were being controlled or manipulated somehow, then Uryuu would do… something. This was an attack on the teen who had seen him, had acknowledged his actions, and Uryuu wouldn't let that stand.
In the end, his resolve didn't matter.
Kurosaki walked right past him, dark gaze on his former friends, never sparing Uryuu a glance.
(Just like everyone else.)
(The spark guttered out.)
The voice started to whisper within his soul soon after.
All around him, chaos and confusion spread, all aimed at Kurosaki. Uryuu did what he could, supported Kurosaki to the best of his abilities, but nothing seemed to matter. He wasn't precisely controlled, but the world seemed to take on an edge of unreality, the sensation of looking through frosted glass persisting until even Uryuu's determination faltered and failed.
And when it did, the voice crept into the cracks and joined Aizen's taunting words with its own.
'Why do you bother to protect them?' the voice whispered, as Uryuu shot down another Hollow.
"Because Karakura is mine, and I will not fail," Uryuu told it, ignoring the unease that lingering within.
'A place where you're ignored? Where your actions are simply the backdrop of the lives of others? Convenient but not worth acknowledging?'
"They acknowledge me," Uryuu growled, remembering Kurosaki's words, Kurosaki's actions.
(Kurosaki walking past him, looking beyond him, lost within what was and ignoring what could be.)
'Do they?' the voice taunted. 'Then where are they right now? Where were they when you lingered within the hospital?'
"They're busy," Uryuu snapped back, clinging to what scraps of confidence he could. "And Ryuuken likely chased them away."
'That's not what friendship means. That's not what family is.'
Uryuu swallowed his protests and shoved the voice away. Ignored the way it lingered in his mind and joined Aizen's taunting whispers in the depths of the night. Ignored the way his sleep became broken and restless and his schoolwork became rough and sub-par. His focus was shot and shadows grew under his eyes.
No one noticed.
(When the strange Quincy comes to recruit him, Uryuu goes willingly, a tiny flare of hope coloring his frozen soul with sparks of warmth. He will find family. He will find his place. He will be acknowledged and accepted and everything will be okay.)
(His Schrift burns so cold it aches.)
Nothing changes.
Uryuu remains the outcast.
The Wandenreich whisper behind his back and give fanged smiles to his face. He doesn't need to ask to know; he knows what being an unwanted child feels like, and he is an unwanted child even here.
Yhwach welcomes him with open arms and grants him a schrift to stand above all others. He is special, Yhwach promises, and worthy of being the successor to a god.
Uryuu just smiles and bows his head and accepts. Accepts the place at Yhwach's side. Accepts that he alone has ever survived Auswählen. Accepts that he will never be accepted.
This is not what family is supposed to be.
(Or is it? Uryuu doesn't know. Has only stories of caring fathers and loving mothers and siblings who stand for each other to compare it against. Fantasies spun from the lives of people not him.)
(This is all he has ever known; disregard and cold smiles and empty words spun into pretty lies that aren't quite lies.)
(The Wandenreich is more family than he wants to admit.)
But Uryuu has nothing left at this point. He has abandoned Karakura and his place as a defender. Abandoned the easy life of hunt-kill-act-normal and joined a madman out to become god. Joined a man who sacrifices his loyal followers and tells them to 'be proud' even as he steals away their lives to strengthen his own.
He stands at the madman's side with his chin raised and stares coldly down upon those who sneer at his impure blood and whisper words of hate behind his back and smile insincerely to his face. He stands at the madman's side even as the man orders the death of hundreds, of thousands, and draws his bow when commanded.
He commits genocide.
(No matter how many he kills, it is never enough. His hands run red and all the warmth leaches from his body, and still only Yhwach looks upon him with approval.)
(The Quincy are no better than the Shinigami.)
It was no surprise to him when Yhwach turned to him one day and said, "It looks like Kurosaki-kun has decided to stop us."
After everything Kurosaki had been through, Uryuu could not imagine the teen standing back and letting others fight for him. Not with the fate of the Three Worlds hanging in the balance. It stood against everything Uryuu knew of his former classmate.
The surprise came when they faced Kurosaki the first time, in Yhwach's grand throne room, and Kurosaki stared at him.
"Ishida..?"
Uryuu blinked once, adjusting his glasses to mask his own surprise, and replied, "Kurosaki."
"What the hell are you doing here?!"
A flicker of doubt stirred in Uryuu's soul at those words, but he crushed it ruthlessly. There was no place for doubt, not after all he had done.
Kurosaki had abandoned him, the teen had no say in his choices.
Uryuu stepped back. Allowed Yhwach to thrash Kurosaki. Ignored the way the teen's warm-possessive reiatsu tried to reach out to him across the frigid emptiness of the throne room.
And then they ascended to the Soul King's palace, Kurosaki trailing behind like a wounded dog, and there it was. The Soul King. The goal of Yhwach's ambition.
Uryuu ignored Kurosaki's grand-standing. Ignored Yhwach's monologue. Ignored everything but the thing that stood beyond the two and that Yhwach had called 'god'.
If he was a god…
He could make it all stop.
Uryuu bolted. Slipped past the startled false-god. Reached out. Grabbed.
"NO!" Yhwach roared, fury and rage and hate spilling out into his reiatsu, spilling out like magma intent on destroying everything in its path.
But it was to late. Uryuu threw back his head and screamed. Screamed as the power of a god crashed through his body, hollowed him out, made him empty in a way he had never before known. Frost rimed his limbs, stuck his clothing to his flesh, numbed his face and reached deep into his very being. And still he screamed, an empty statue so cold he was burning, a false heat that didn't change anything.
"What have you done, you idiot child?!" Yhwach demanded, turning from Kurosaki and taking a menacing step towards Uryuu. His face was twisted with rage, but all Uryuu could see was his futures. All the myriad, vast possibilities that Yhwach controlled like a puppet-master in order to achieve his grand goal of conquering the world.
"Antithesis," Uryuu rasped out, throat sore from screaming but numbed by the frigid emptiness within. "I am… your antithesis…"
Yhwach had futures. Had goals, and desires, and dreams, even if he never couched them in quite those words.
Uryuu… had nothing.
When the false-god struck, Uryuu just unmade.
A future where Uryuu faltered. Unmade.
Where he submitted. Unmade.
Where he shattered. Unmade.
Again, and again, and again. One future after the next, until Yhwach's futures dwindled down and down and down into nothing, and then the false-god froze, and gasped, and crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut.
Uryuu watched without feeling as the body of the man who had promised him family and lied so truthfully crumbled into dust. As that dust scattered into reishi. As that reishi dissolved in the face of his nothingness.
He slowly looked up from the place where Yhwach had stood, and met Kurosaki's startled gaze. One frozen hand lifted from his side, his bow crawling into existence like ice expanding across a pond.
Kurosaki burned with such beautiful fire, even here, even faced with what he had become.
Kurosaki was a weakness.
If the boy was unmade here, nothing would stand between Uryuu and his goal.
Something slammed into his back, and fire raced through Uryuu's veins as he fell to his knees with a gasp of pain. His bow shattered like glass, and frost scattered from his body with every breath he took.
He stared at the spreading pool of red under his knees. Ran curious fingers through the warm, warm liquid.
How could his own blood be so warm?
Every breath was agony, jostling the arrow that was lodged deep within his heart. He could no longer feel the power of the Soul King. So he twisted around to face the direction the arrow had come from.
Who had betrayed him?
Uryuu stared blankly at the pain-filled visage of… of Ryuuken. He had expected any number of sights, any number of Wandenreich to be standing there, but the idea of Ryuuken doing this…
Uryuu couldn't help it. He laughed. It was a brittle, empty laugh that made Ryuuken step back with a flare of emotion that Uryuu couldn't understand. Kurosaki's father stepped up to Ryuuken's side, blade drawn and stance wary.
"Too late," Uryuu whispered to no one in particular. His fingers trailed through warm blood. His gaze returned to Kurosaki.
Already his fingertips were numb. Already his spilled blood was turning to slush.
Kurosaki stood before him, confused and hurt and wounded in a way that confused Uryuu. What was he to the other? Just another teen, another resident of Karakura, no one important.
(Kurosaki had loved ones. Had family. Twin sisters he doted upon and loved so fiercely even Uryuu had been able to see it.)
"Kill me," he ordered Kurosaki.
"What?! Why?" Kurosaki yelped.
Uryuu blinked slowly, raising numb fingers to his chest and touching here he could feel the arrow resting. "Do you want a world to return to?"
"Of course I do, idiot!"
"Then kill me," Uryuu reiterated. "Because when this arrow dissolves, I will end you. I will unmake this useless world and create it anew in my image."
Kurosaki scowled at him. "Look, you're the third goddamn person to tell me that exact same thing. It's a little creepy coming from one of my classmates, but I don't see why that warrants your death."
Uryuu chuckled. His arms were numb to the elbows, and he could already feel the fire in his veins fading away. He wanted… he didn't know what he wanted. To live. To die. To end everything.
"I'll unmake everything." Uryuu gave Kurosaki a frozen smile, making the teen wince backwards. "I'll make everything as cold and empty as I am. I am Antithesis, and this world of things infuriates me!"
"This is my fault," Kurosaki muttered softly, as he braced himself and stepped closer. "It shouldn't… I should have… You were always… there. I should have paid attention."
Uryuu swallowed. Refused to look away from Kurosaki's sad, broken gaze. Could he have turned from this path? From this hopeless, empty end, if only Kurosaki had looked? He didn't know. Didn't want to know. Instead, he only offered, "The arrow's almost gone."
"I'm sorry," Kurosaki whispered.
Fire.
Uryuu gasped, left hand closing uselessly over the back of Kurosaki's blade. Flames raced through his veins, warming him to the very tips of his fingers and toes, banishing every trace of the frozen emptiness. He had never felt so alive.
"It's… warm," Uryuu forced out through bloodied lips.
Kurosaki's lips thinned. His eyes turned bleak.
Light glinted off his second blade.
Uryuu's world went dark.
For the record, I hated writing this story. It got into my brain and gnawed on it until I gave in and wrote it all out. I think it's pretty irredeemable. If I had never written this, I think I would be a happier person.
And yet, between finishing the draft and finishing this final version, I managed to add something like three thousand words, nearly doubling the length of it. I'm disgusted with myself. But hopefully my muse will now shut up about this storyline and let me do things that are at least pleasing to me like Dragon Eclipse and Shattered Eclipse.