I have no idea where I'm going with this. Probably not more than a two shot. I don't have the fortitude to write in the bleach fandom- there's a level of dedication to each fic that I'm not able to match.
That being said, this has been sitting on my desktop for a while and i thought it was a shame that no one had heard or critiqued it yet. It's one of my first bleach fanfics that aren't, well, useless. My others are all HitsuKarin puff pieces that I came up with on the fly without any actual skill. So here's my crack at a POV I absolutely love, Rukia's! Don't worry, Ichigo will be featured, as well as some well known members of the Board of the Gotei 13 Kicks Ass club.
Holy crap 9,000 words. I think that's the most I've ever written into one chapter. Dang. Anyway, this is a oneshot, so don't go expecting another huge chapter like this. That would be suicide. This had been sitting on my computer for two months... I'm sorry, no attention span.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Slightly AU after the Soul Society Arc, Rukia is the central character of this, so no flames. If you don't like Rukia, go die in a hole.
This is kinda rambly, but I liked the idea of a Hollow for a sword instead of an inner-Hollow.
In the beginning, it was normal. She'd been separated from her zanpakto for months; Rukia's relationship with Shirayuki was not such that she would presume an immediate reciprocation of her attempts at communication. Shirayuki was as proud as Rukia, and had a streak of pettiness a mile wide. Rukia was prepared to do some groveling and force herself through endless hours of punishing meditation in the seiza position before she expected anything from her zanpakto.
She first realized that something was wrong when she reached for Sode no Shirayuki with her soul and grasped at nothing.
Rukia doesn't understand. She has Shirayuki in her hands, testing the blade on her flesh, spotting the peerless blade with drops of red. But Shirayuki is not there. Meditation is supposed to submerge Rukia in her soul. She is very familiar with the snow field that Shirayuki inhabits, where gentle snow flurries quickeng to a howling blizzard whenever either of them are distressed or enraged.
But she meets only eternity.
The blackness is so sucking and all-encompassing that Rukia feels abjectly terrified when she first steps foot inside the space. Her feet are supported, but beneath her there is no ground. Above her there is no sky. There is no heat or cold; no wind or rain. Just nothing. She feels blinkered like a carriage horse—she can see her body in its entirety, but she is suspended in the black. The oppressive silence is what finally drives her away. That, and the steady feeling of weakening the longer she stays in that place. She gasps, and her breath is stuck in her throat. The dark presses on her nose and her mouth, smothering her. She is being consumed. It takes an almost inhuman exercise of will to extract herself from that place, but she manages it. Rukia shudders into consciousness, her lungs heaving for breath and her heart fluttering. She topples over, her hakusho askew and stained from the cold sweat beading her skin. She has faced Aizen, been sentenced to execution, killed Kaien-dono, braved the Acadamy as a Rukongai ghetto girl and she has never been more terrified then right then, lying prone on her tatami.
Shirayuki is gone, and the space inside her that was reserved for her spirit cutter is starving pittiless utter void that hungers.
(hungers for what hungers for what hungers for what?)
She doesn't cry, because Rukia never cries (for herself).
Instead, she sheathes Sode no Shirayuki—no, not Shirayuki, merely her grave—and places the empty sword gently on the tatami beside her futon. Then she lies down, and sleeps.
She goes to Ukitake-taicho the first thing the next morning. Her captain is one of the oldest of the Gotei 13 despite his young and sickly appearance. The older soul was something of a uncle-figure to her; if she weren't so conscious of protocol, and paranoid of someone reporting her impropriety to the Kuchiki clan head, she might have even told him so.
"Ukitake-taicho." Rukia bows low, even lower than the usual bow she gives when she comes across him in the central courtyard of the 13th Division barracks.
"Ah, Rukia-san." Ukitake smiles genuinely. "It's nice to see you back in uniform again." He peered at the weapon conspicuously missing from her waist, instead wrapped in coarse cloth and tucked under her arm. "Though I doubt Shirayuki appreciates the change in scenery."
"That's what I wanted to speak with you about Ukitake-taicho." Rukia says. She's proud that she manages to keep the worry out of her voice and affect a fairly nonchalant tone that doesn't turn any 13th Division heads or attract errant gossipers. "Privately please."
"Ah," Ukitake's brows draw together in concern before smoothing out and copying her nonchalance. "I don't have any appointments this morning, except for some light sparring with Shunsui. I have the feeling this is more important than that, however."
Rukia stiffens. "My business can wait until after your finish your agreed arrangements with Kyoraku-taicho—"
"Nonsense." Ukitake ushers her into the administration building and through the lobby. "Shunsui will show up an hour late and so drunk that sparring with him will break every zanpakto safety mandate passed in the last century." They pass easily through and into his office. Rukia notes the two shinigami fall into place guarding the door as Ukitake gently slides the panel shut, activates the privacy kido, and settles behind his desk. "Now, what did you need to tell me?"
Rukia places her zanpakto on the broad wooden top of Ukitake's desk. She loosens the cord, and the wrappings fall away. She then steps back; the exact distance expected of a subordinate to a superior. No more, no less. Propriety helps hold bay the increasing wave of panic threatening to drown her.
Ukitake is more distracted by her blade than her strange manner.
"Beautiful as ever, Rukia-san." Ukitake says with that dazzled look in his eyes. Rukia is used to it; her sword's brilliance is one of its defining characteristics, after all. "May I?" He gestures to the blade.
Rukia hesitates, but nods. This was why she had brought the sword in the first place, right?
"Surprising for you to leave her in Shikai form, Rukia-san." Ukitake said with a frown. Rukia preferred her sword in it's more nondescript sealed form, and to see her blade in Shikai outside of battle was unusual.
"Yes, taicho. That's why I'm here…"
"And the reitsu she should be emitting…" Ukitake frowned. "Rukia-san, why isn't your zanpakto releasing any spiritual energy? Even though you're still recovering, I should be able to sense something…"
"I entered my soul today for the first time since I gave my powers to Ichigo." Rukia interrupts abruptly. "There wasn't anything there."
"That's to be expected, Rukia-san. I doubt you'll be able to find Shirayuki so fast if she's determined to hide from you. From how you used to complain about her, I would guess even more groveling and flattery than usual." Ukitake chuckled, setting the sword back down on his desk.
"No sir, you don't understand." Rukia couldn't help the desperation that creeped into her voice.
"Rukia-san?"
"There is nothing there, taicho. No Sode no Shirayuki, no snow plain, no snow flakes, no cold, no wind, no—" Rukia takes in a shuddering breath. Tears are pricking at her eyes, but she refuses to disgrace her uniform with an unprofessional emotional display. "Taicho, I came to you because I think there is something wrong. Sode no Shirayuki is beyond my senses—before you is an empty blade locked in shikai!" By the end of her calm sentence, Rukia was nearly shrieking.
"Calm down, Rukia-san." Ukitake said, his voice worried.
"Calm down?" Rukia choked. "Shirayuki is dead."
Ukitake promises to keep her situation under wraps. They both know that Rukia is on thin ice with the Seireitei; not many captains are pleased with the destruction Ichigo Kurosaki and the ryoka caused in her name. There is an unspoken understanding; if Rukia laid low, Soul Society would ignore her in favor of focusing on Hueco Mundo.
Rukia has no desire to be quietly executed by the Onmitsukido.
So she pretends. She pretends that Shirayuki has been restored to her and that everything is fine. She pretends with her squad. She pretends with Renji. She pretends with her brother.
But then, she's always pretending with Byakuya.
Even without the further complications of her soul cutter situation, Rukia has no idea what to say to him. Even the usual uselesss small-talk if stilted and painful. How can she speak so casually to someone who is so cold, but loved her sister so much that she'd take a virtual stranger under his wing against all tradition and all protest?
(how can she talk to a man who did his best to condemn her to death?)
And she knows there was protest. She can tell in the way the maids have to choke out the honorifics of her name and the way the old matrons sniff when she walks by. Rukia doesn't try to ingratiate herself with them because she knows a fruitless effort when she sees one. The nobles are noble because their families have never tasted of life- they are born, live, and die in the spirit world.
Rukia still remembers blurry instances of her life before death and thus, is inferior.
Oh, Rukia remembers the lectures from her History of Seireitei class in her first year of the Academy. The spiel about how important it was that the noble families survive because someone needed to create new souls to make up for the ones permanently destroyed or removed from the reincarnation process. Yes, she remembers all of that, and still can't find it within herself to give a flying-
Well. Rukia had never been gifted with any sort of social compass (not like Hisana, nothing like Hisana, she was elegent, she was poised, oh spirits I can imagine) and she had far too much to deal with as it was. The nobility could go stuff themselves for all she cared. It's not like there wasn't a war on or anything.
War. Right.
Rukia tightened her first around her katana and descended down on the secluded training ground with a light tap of her tabi. It was tranquil, and quiet; birds chirping and the soft gurgle of a stream nearby was all she could hear. Perfect.
And then she unsheathed her sword.
Rukia is careful not to get caught in the sticky nothingness that resides where a part of her soul should be. As she edges around it, testing it, prodding it, she wonders why she isn't a Hollow. She can practically feel the trademark hole of the minus soul where her heart is supposed to be- it seems like only a small step to make a physical manifestation.
She freezes, paralyzed in fear of the thought of her turning into a hollow and, in a bloody hazy, descending on her comrades like a beast (not like Kaien, please, not like Kaien) before she forces herself to relax.
Relax, she thinks. Ukitake-taicho wouldn't let you out here alone if he thought something like that would happen.
The thought of Ukitake's soft, smiling face riddled with compassion and worry for her (and Rukia is grateful so so grateful to him for drawing away the soutaicho on the day of her execution because she really didn't want to die even though she was already dead and his reitsu was like dying by fire) is enough to bolster Rukia's confidence. She takes a deep breath, taking courage from the soft wind blowing from the cleaner districts of Rukongai, she seats herself against a gnarled oak and begins.
If such a paradox can exist, she forces her body to relax. Each muscle group tenses, contracts, bunches, and Rukia works had on making sure every single one is streamlined and the flow of energy through her spirit is unhindered by stress. She meditates, and reaches into herself. Perhaps Shirayuki is there, just out of her reach...? Rukia feels the slightest bit of cold on her fingertip (a snowflake?) and when she touches it, it crumbles to nothing. Her zanpakto follows suit. The traditional white of Shirayuki is flaking- bit by bit it shrivels, turns grey and flakes off the sword onto Rukia's lap.
Her sword is no longer the most beautiful in all of Seireitei.
It feels like an integral part of Rukia is dying. Her zanpakto spirit had never been the most warm, or comforting- but, in the frigid Kuchiki household having someone who was a regal and dignified as the nobles surrounding her was a relief. Sode no Shirayuki had given her something to be proud of, something that was earned and hers.
Something that was not conditional on upholding the Kuchiki name.
Tears leak from her eyes, and Rukia's body is wracked with deep, body-wrenching sobs. It feels like her oldest friend is dead (like Kaien-dono all over again). She sleeps out under the cold night, and for once, the frost is a welcome bedfellow.
When she receives the mission, she doesn't make excuses or decline. She knows better than that; if she received the summons, that means that Ukitake-taicho tried his best to keep her in Soul Society and failed. She catches his worried look from across the courtyard and she smiles her fakest, most convincing smile. Rukia has no idea if he understood, or took her at face value because he's distracted by a hell butterfly and she slips away.
She is going back to Karakura, and she has no idea how she feels about that.
On one hand, Ichigo is there. So is Chad, Orihime, and Ishida. She wonders if it means something that she has made faster and better friends with humans she knew for a few months (a blink to a shinigami, an eternity to a human teenager) than she has with comrades she's known for decades.
Rukia is pretty sure it does.
But she goes, and things just go downhill from there.
"I'm D-Roy." the arrancar smirks, his tongue teasing the strange shape of his teeth. "Arrancar 16." His voice oozes arrogance; his ego is almost as big as his ridiculous hollow mask fragment.
"Rukia Kuchiki. Third Division-"
"I don't care." the hollow says. He smirks. "If I stopped to listen to the names of all the people I had to kill, I'd never get anything done."
Rukia twitches, a little. "How unfortunate." She says quietly. If Sode no Shirayuki were here, she'd insist on being introduced- and Rukia would have obliged before shattering D-Roy against the pavement.
But she is not here, and Rukia is fighting alone.
"Prepare yourself..." D-Roy smirks, and draws his zanpakto. "...shinigami!" He launches himself at her, his white tabi barely touching the ground in his sprint. He's fast, but not as fast as Byakuya, or Ichigo. His blade falls with the inexorable force of a thunderbolt and Rukia braces herself, her hollow blade held at the ready.
What if it breaks, she thinks in the millisecond before D-Roy's sword crashes into hers. Oh god, what if it breaks?
And then there is contact.
"What- what the hell is this!?" D-Roy shrieks. He jerks his zanpakto away from Rukia's, almost stumbling. His weapon is cracked; spider thin veins of silver run from point to hilt and along them, seeping like blood, grow patches of rust. Flakes of metal begin to fall away as the sword weakens, succumbing like a victim of plague or disease. "Stop it!" The desperation in the arrancar's voice is frightening. "What the fuck is this?!" The hollow turns on her, murder in his eyes as he slashes the weakening weapon at her throat, leaving a trail of rust particles in it's wake. "I'll kill you, you bitch!"
His reiatsu spikes, almost visible. The hollow is an arrancar after all- you don't get to be one of those without some power. Rukia realizes that he must have been compressing his reiatsu, making himself appear much weaker than he actually was. His spirit pressure presses down like a mill stone around her shoulders, and her knees threaten to buckle. Dammit, if only her zanpakto was at full capacity!
Devour him.
Rukia flinches back, her eyes wide. Sode no Shirayuki...? But it doesn't sound like the polite, courtly tones of her temperamental zanpakto spirit. This voice is deeper, but no less feminine. Insidious.
And so, so hungry.
Her sword vibrates in her hands, straining toward D-Roy's rusty, brittle soul cutter. What- what is happening?!
"Rukia!" Ichigo's timely shout saves Rukia from losing her head. He is not pleased at the close call. "Goddamit Rukia! If you're just going to slack off and get yourself killed you should have let me take care of him!"
"Shut up, Ichigo!" Rukia barks back. She falls easily into the banter; it is a comfort. "Just give me a second!"
"Hurry up!"
"Fine!" Rukia shouts. She slashes at D-Roy's midsection, but the fraccion easily takes to the air, hovering above her.
"You might be good on the ground, shinigami, but my place is the sky!" D-Roy's eyes are bulging with rage as he turns on her, his rust-bitten sword in an attacking position. "Die!" D-Roy is coming at her so fast, she reacts. She doesn't even think of the consequences before she brings her sword down to cleave D-Roy in two, intending on meeting his attack with one of her own. He raises his sword on instinct- he realizes he should have dodged when it is too late and Rukia has broken his zanpakto like glass and buried her sword in his head.
Thank you for this offering, Rukia-sama
Rukia blinks. She is in her soul- she is in the void she has tried so desperately to stay away from. But... she is not being suffocated, or attacked, or- Rukia whirls around, her hands in a defensive position. Her zanpakto is not in her hands.
"Who are you?" Rukia demands.
You don't recognize me? The figure asks. Rukia can vaguely make out a humanoid figure, but everything is in shadow.
"Show yourself!" Rukia demands.
The figure stills, and then it's shoulder move in what she supposes is suppressed laughter. So impatient, Rukia-sama. But... you did give me a filling meal today. A real treat. I'd never guess that arrancar tasted so delicious.
"Who are you!"
Shode no Shirayuki steps out of the dark. "Hello, Rukia-sama."
The only thing that stops Rukia from running to her resurrected sword's spirit form is how different Sode no Shirayuki looks. Her hair, once white, is now a dark pitch black. Her skin, which was merely pale before, is now bleached white. Her skin matches the ornaments in her hair that were once light blue; they look as if they are made of bone now. The kimono she wears looked as if it had once been spotless and pristine, but now it is stained with black; like sooty snow. Her eyes are like glassy obsidian- without pupils or iris. Her stare is frightening.
Rukia shifts uneasily. Shirayuki notices.
"No need to feel uncomfortable Rukia-sama." Shirayuki smiles brighter than Rukia has ever seen.
The shinigami swallows dryly. There's blood in her sword spirit's teeth.
"You are not Shirayuki." Rukia does not ask, she states.
"Of course not." The specter sniffs. "When you gave your powers to that stupid ryoka boy, Shirayuki was lost forever." She grinned nastily, showing off her bloodstained teeth again. "Ichigo's reiatsu is quite vicious. Your zanpakto screamed as her power was ripped from her. She had a lovely scream-"
"Shut up!" Rukia yelled. She moves faster than she ever has- and finds it incredibly satisfying to have the bitch's neck in her hands.
"As you wish, Rukia-sama" The woman didn't even look phased. She tilted her head, her neck muscles flexing under Rukia's hands. Her kimono falls open, revealing the sharp jut of a collar bone and-
"Hollow!" Rukia barks, shoving her opponent away from her the second she caught sight of the hole in her chest.
"Very good." the woman says, her voice full of pretty venom. "Full marks all across the board."
Rukia can feel her heartbeat speeding up, and her breath coming faster. A hollow. A hollow inside her. Is this how Ichigo felt? Did he feel this constant aching hunger for- for-
"What are you?" Rukia whispered.
"A hollow of course. Didn't we already establish that Rukia-sama?" The woman is smirking.
"Like Ichigo?"
The hollow gives her a look of disgust. "No, you stupid girl. Do you think if I had the power of an inner-Hollow I'd take waste my time playing games with you?" A sneer mars her pretty face, twisting it into something ugly. "You'd be nothing more than a corpse at my feet."
Rukia has absolutely no doubt that this... person would do so. She seemed pitiless, like Sode no Shirayuki at her worse and most unforgiving.
"Did you think there would be no consequences to giving your powers to another? A human, no less? There is a reason it is forbidden; either the shinigami dies, the human dies... or, in your case..." A pause. "..your zanpakto spirit is destroyed, and a void is created. And like water flowing down a drain, you will never be satisfied until you find prey large enough to stop your endless hunger."
"Your hunger, not mine!" Rukia yelled. "I, at least, am a shinigami." Not a hollow, not a hollow, not a hollow, not a hollow-
"Tch. Do you think it will stop if you wish hard enough, little girl? A black hole doesn't cease until it has devoured everything around it. Without reiatsu from others to satisfy you, how long until you start to feed off of your own power?"
"I'll stop you- I'll fix this before it comes to that." Rukia said. A hollow zanpakto spirit? Voids? Right.
"It's not something to be stopped. Do you think I am responsible for this?" The hollow threw out a pale hand, gesturing the the pulsating blackness surrounding them. " I am a fragment of your soul trying to desperately find order in chaos. A last memory of your precious Sode no Shirayuki-chan, if you will."
"Then she is-"
"Gone. Dead. Destroyed. Obliterated."
The hope that had flared in Rukia's chest died. "Then what do you want?"
"What do I want?" the woman looked bemused. "I suppose we can strike a deal, Rukia-sama." She takes a crimson fan out of her black obi and uses it to cover her obvious smirk.
"You said you have no power here." Rukia pointed out. "What use is a deal with you to me?"
"Nah, ah, ah," the hollow flutters her fan coquettishly, her coal eyes glittering. "Don't go putting words in my mouth Rukia-sama. I said I wasn't responsible for this, not that I couldn't help you."
Rukia feels as if she were striking a deal with the devil herself. "Name your terms."
"So eager, Rukia-sama." The woman murmurs. "I assume you're familiar with the ways of hollos, having been a shinigami for neigh on a century?"
"Of course." Rukia said stiffly. She is still tensed, like she expects to be attacked at any moment. The hollow approves.
"Then you know that to gain power, hollows have a tendency towards cannibalism?"
"I will not be eating anything." Rukia says coldly, in that Kuchiki way that seems to have rubbed off on her during her long stay in her adoptive brother's household. The very idea of consuming raw flesh, of sinking her teeth into raw muscle and ripping chunks out to chew and swallow- she resists the urge to vomit.
"Don't be stupid." the hollow snapped. "A shinigami like you could never appreciate anything so exquisite as a fresh kill." She sniffs, her pride apparently offended.
"I'm sorry my lack of taste offends you." Rukia said acidly. "But if that's what is required of me, I'll take my chances." She turns as if to walk away (to where, though? It's all black?) but the hollow's shout calls her back.
"Stop!"
"Yes?"
"Of course I wouldn't expect you to eat hollow, you foolish girl." The hollow says. Perhaps she is rolling her eyes; Rukia cannot really tell. "You're not the one that needs them. I am. Like most other hollows, I strengthen depending on how much reiatsu I consume."
"So all you want me to do... is kill hollows?" Rukia said, suspicious. "I already do that. What's the catch?"
"Catch, no catch." The woman snapped her fan closed. "Except, well..."
"What?"
"Unlike shinigami, hollows don't train." She spat out the word 'train' like it was an insult. "So you could say that your future strength is going to be measured in blood rather than sweat. Your physicals skills can improve but," She clicked her tongue, like an admonishing elder sibling. "As for your spirit pressure, stealing the strength of others and making it your own is your new legacy."
"So you best be prepared for killing, Rukia-sama. You're going to be doing a lot of it."
Ichigo was, frankly, scared shitless.
There wasn't a lot that could unnerve him on even on his bad days. He was usually right in the thick of things, instituting order with his fists as well as kicking ass and taking names. It was his thing.
What Rukia was doing on the other hand, was not her thing.
Ichigo knew she was powerful. Even his pitiful senses could appreciate the width and breadth of her power, even in comparison with the goliath that made up his own spiritual pressure. She was a reasonably skilled shinigami, with a hundred years of experience as opposed to his, what, six months? Unless she was being held for execution by a few hundred shinigami against whom she was outnumbered and needed rescuing, Ichigo could appreciate the fact that Rukia could get by perfectly fine on her own.
So he didn't complain much when he stood aside to let Rukia take on D-Roy. If she finished the fight quickly, when the arrancar was too busy talking to unsheathe his sword, there would be no problems.
Except, well- D-Roy unsheathed his sword.
The increase in pressure didn't really affect Ichigo that much- like a lot of things, he just shrugged it off- but Rukia seemed to be cringing a bit. Ichigo frowned, He knew for a fact that Rukia was stronger than that, even if her spirit pressure seemed a lot more... brittle than usual. But whatever, he knows Rukia well enough to guess that she would take this fight seriously- she always took every fight seriously, like she had a complex about being the underdog and driving her superiority into her opponant with actions rather than words. It's so Rukia that it's comforting.
Well, until everything starts to get weird.
D-Roy starts squealing like a little girl about how his zanpakto is all messed up (It's not as messed up as his teeth, in Ichigo's opinion) and rushes Rukia. She avoids his attack and, with her usual grace, snaps the arrancar's sword in two with one strike, simultaneously bisecting the freak's head. Ichigo has to restrain his cheer.
Except that's when the weirdness starts.
Rukia's blade pulses, and black, sickly reiatsu explodes from her unassuming sealed zanpakto. It flows over D-Roy's pale skin, falling over his shoulders in a dark waterfall and rushing around his waist and back up his front. Ichigo can't see anything but a vaguely humanoid shape now- it's all been covered by Rukia's reiatsu.
"Rukia?" He wants to go to her, but something stops him. Perhaps some instinct passed on by his hollow stays his hand, but he is immensely grateful he follow his gut because her sword pulses again. He can feel the wind pick up, but when he glances at the tall trees hidden by concrete walls, the leaves are still. Ichigo's eyebrow furrow. Movement without wind? What-
With a roar, all of the black reiatsu is sucked into Rukia's sword like a vortex. It spirals as it goes, reminded Ichigo somewhat of a hurricane, or a black hole. It pulls at his hakusho even from twenty feet away. Dust from the road is kicked up, creating a mini-dust devil that sends grit flying into his eyes and nose.
And suddenly it is all over.
The black reiatsu is gone, and Rukia's blade has stopped pulsing. Rukia is very still, staring at the empty space where her blade hangs, free of the blood and gore Ichigo expected to be smeared on it. She did spit D-Roy like a pig. Speaking of...
"Where did his body go?" Ichigo asked, but he gets the feeling Rukia isn't even listening to him. "Eh, Rukia?" He takes a few cautious steps forward, until he's almost withing arms reach.
"She even licked the blade clean." Is what he hears, and his eyes again fall on the strangely pristine blade.
Suddenly, Ichigo doesn't even want to know.
"He's dead, right?" He asks instead, gruffly and with his usual rough kindness.
"Yes." Rukia says, and she shakes herself. When she meets his eyes, Ichigo feels something within him relax. He almost smiles.
"Let's go then, midget."
"Address me with respect!"
"Pft. I'll respect you when you have the size to back up your words!"
"Baka!"
Neither of them notice the small pin sized hole in the blade of her katana right above the guard. It is small, and barely noticeable and completely hidden when the zanpakto is sheathed.
Not for long.
Fighting Aaeroniero is what really cements the reality of her zanpakto in her mind.
Kaien's face is so achingly familiar that Rukia almost weeps. Maybe she does, a little, when the mocking words drip from the 9th Espada's mouth like so much poison. "Neh, I thought I taught you better than this Rukia-chan." he chides, almost gently, just like Rukia remembers. "You'll have to unseal Shirayuki for me if you want to get anywhere in this fight."
Rukia really wishes she could. Zanjutsu is one of her weakest skills- she relied heavily on Shirayuki's ice-based kido attacks to keep her opponent at bay and weakened until she could move in and finish them off and she has none of that now. She had a single month with Orihime but Rukia had never dared use her zanpakto against her friend, too afraid that the hunger of the blade would awaken and move to steal the girl's spirit energy. Even in it's sealed state, her sword steals soul particles. She was too afraid that one missed block, one training accident could result in the devouring of Orihime's soul.
In essence, Rukia feels as though she's fighting with both her hands tied behind her back.
"Wow, all those decades after you killed me and I think you've gotten worse, if possible." Kaie- Aeroniero says. He looks bored, with his sword slung over his shoulders. He hasn't even broken a sweat while Rukia can feel her lungs heaving. "I have no idea how you managed to kill me."
Me neither, Rukia admits to herself, her eyes flicking around the cavernous room to find anything to use to her advantage.
"I suppose I should end this quickly." Aaeroniero sighs. "Well, I wish I could say it's been fun but you were a real disappointment. All that time I spent training you, all a waste-"
"Silence!" She has been angry this entire time, but now real rage bubbles up under her skin. "You are not Kaien Shiba! I'll take your head from your shoulders, you bastard!"
"Oho," Aaeroniero chuckles. "Language, Rukia-chan. We wouldn't want Byuakuya-taicho to hear you using such plebeian language. It's beneath a Kuchiki after all."
"The only thing beneath me here is you, scum." Rukia sneers.
Cut him, Rukia can hear her sword whispering. Steal his power.
"Die, hollow!" She has always been good at shunpo, but changing positions midair has always troubled her. Ever since D-Roy ("You might be good on the ground, shinigami, but my place is the sky!") she's been faster than she's ever been. It's as easy as breathing. She's fast enough to get the drop on Aaeroniero at the very least, making a slim cut on his shoulder before he turns to bat her away.
Delectable.
Rukia shudders. Her zanpakto is pulsing again, as if savoring the blood on the tip of the blade. Black reiatsu bursts forth like a dam, swirling up and down the dull grey blade like winter fog. It's not like Ichigo's hollow powers, which are black flames backlit by red. No- Rukia's power is more like soiled purity. Of sickness and corruption, and, of course, starvation.
Strength fills her limbs. It seems that her zanpakto wasn't kidding when she asked to steal his power.
"Hmm, what's this?" Aaeroniero, for the first time in this battle, actually looks surprised. "I haven't seen airspeed like that since Grimmjow's fraccion D-Roy was killed. They told me you had something to do with that and I was so proud. My little Rukia-chan, killing her first arrancar." he wipes a pseudo-tear from his eye. "I was so proud."
"Shut up." Rukia said. "You dishonor Kaien-dono's memory by wearing that face and speaking with his voice." She's in the zone of pure frigid intent to kill. "You will pay for your sins."
"Is that so?" Aaeroniero is amused. "Well then. I suppose I have no choice." He twirls his katana in such a familiar way that Rukia's breath is caught in her throat. "Suiten sakamake Nejibana."
No.
No.
NO.
NO.
NO.
"Kaien-dono."
Kill him.
Alright.
Aaeroniero dies by inches. Every time she blocks one of his attacks, her blade happily feasts on the soul particles that give the zanpakto substance. Every time she wounds him, her zanpakto guzzles his blood and howls for more.
She crackles with power she's stolen from him.
"You little bitch." Aaeroniero huffs. Now it is he who struggles to breath through his exhaustion and she who stands tall and powerful. Rukia cannot say she doesn't mind.
Finish him.
With pleasure.
"I am needed elsewhere, Espada." Rukia says. "I'm ending this now."
"Ending this?!" Aaeroniero's laugh is full of madness. "We've only just started-guh." He stares down at the blade protruding from his chest before a slow smile makes its way across his face. He begins to laugh, again. This body was merely a construct, and it would take more than a measly sword to the chest to take him down. "If you think that's going to stop me, Rukia-chan, you have no idea what I'm capable of. Do you think a minor wound such as this would stop me? "
"Ah, so you're not Kaien-dono. Good. I will show you no mercy then."
Mercy? Aaeroniero's grip on Nejibana changed. It was time to end this while she was still in his range. All he had to do was step forward, ripping the blade out of his chest, and then turn to kill her. Easy enough.
Except...
"What is this!?" Aaeroniero yelped, staring down at his chest. Black reiatsu is spiraling out from his wound, rooting him in place. It crawls down his legs, cementing him to the floor before he can try to shunpo away and entangles the arm wielding Nejibana before he can even think to move. He is utterly powerless.
"Are you afraid of death, Espada?" Rukia askes, staring hard at Aaroniero's- Kaien's- back. She's trying very hard to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach and the guilt in her heart. Oh god, she's going to kill Kaien, or at least a fragment of him, all over again.
Aaroniero opens his mouth to answer, but is stifles as the black shroud creeps over his mouth and nose. His eyes are wide with panic before they too are covered up, casting him into the darkness he'd lurked in his entire existence.
I like the way you taste, arrancar.
Everything else if muffles, but he can hear her voice perfectly fine.
You're just like me Aaroniero-kun. So hungry for power. Barely sated by the skill of your enemies. You will be of great use to me. Aeroniero could feel the cool breath on his ear, and the whisper of lips against his earlobe. All that reiatsu, it makes me hungry.
Think of yourself as a stepping stone to my ascension. You have enough hollow souls that you put me several years ahead of schedule. My first release, my shikai, if you will, cannot be accessed until I am at adjuchas level at least. Killing a gillian like you, who had risen so impertinently above his station was such a pleasure- and was just enough to put me over the edge. Rukia-sama will be happy.
Aeriero screamed, both of his voices wailing. Aizen-sama promised us-
You will be a delicious meal, Aeroniero-kun.
Rukia watches as the last of the black energy is sucked back into her sword. She has done that technique only twice; once with D-Roy and now with Aaeroniero. She wonders if such extravagant displays are only necessary for higher level opponants, because she regularly dispatched low-level hollow without the manifestation of her zanpakto's greed.
My mother always told me that snacking was bad for one's health. I prefer a full meal.
Rukia doubted very much that her zanpakto had ever had a mother. "That took longer than D-Roy." Rukia remarked.
There was more of him to absorb.
"Aa..." Rukia moved to sheath her blade, pausing when he caught sight of the now quarter-sized hole in her blade.
Ah, it is getting bigger. That's good.
"It'll snap off at the hilt." Rukia said, dismayed. She poked her forefinger through the hole.
No it won't. And stop that.
"What did you mean when you spoke of a 'first release'? I thought you were a hollow, not a zanpakto."
I'm both. I thought I made that clear when you asked me if I was your inner-Hollow you idiot.
"A few vague explanations mixed in with a lot of creepy doesn't count."
Deal with it. The woman sneered. If I have to spell things out for you every time you use me, I will kill you myself.
"'Every time'? You never explained the first time!"
I am your zanpakto. I am also a hollow. When you kill strong hollows, you make me stronger. If I wasn't a unique being, created by the theft of your shinigami powers, all of my kind would have the ability to absorb others. As for my shikai- well.
"So you do have shikai."
Of course. As I eat, I grow stronger. Unlike Aeroniero, who took the abilities of others for his own use, I merely take the energy of others and eat it. Aaroniero was a child who coveted the abilities of others and so he stole them. I take what I want, use it, break it, and throw it away.
"I can steal the zanpakto of others, like Aaeroniero with Kaien-dono?"
No.
"Will you tell me your name?"
No.
Rukia recognized the tone in her blade's voice and retreated, for now. She had enough experience to recognize a battle she couldn't win, and the battlefield wasn't the place to have a disagreement with her partner.
Later, then.
Rukia honestly never thought she'd be the one by Ichigo's side when he faced Aizen.
She wasn't even a seated officer, for heavens sake, and nowhere near the level she needed to be if she had a prayer of defeating the leader of the Espada.
"Run Rukia!" Ichigo bellowed, not taking his eyes off of his opponent.
"No." Rukia said calmly. Her legs were trembling beneath her worn and ripped pants, but her arms were steady at least.
"You have no hope of doing anything but getting in the way!" Ichigo yelled. He would've turned to glare, but he was understandably wary of Aizen attacking while his guard was down.
"You fool, do you think that matters?"
I suppose now would be a good time...? Her zanpakto's tone was polite; Rukia took this to mean that she was very, very hungry.
Yes, before I'm dead preferably.
Normally I'd make you beg, but circumstances being what they are I'll give you a pass. My name is-
"Hason shita, Nagasode no Kuroiyuki!"
Her sword looked heartrendingly similar to Shirayuki. It was white again, but this time it wasn't the metal that was such, but the thin layer of hollow bone that encased the katana. The hole had only gotten larger, bulging bulging the metal to allow a hole the size of her fist to manifest. It looked... very much like a hollow, with the hollow bone reminding her uncomfortably of the arrancar themselves. Rukia nearly doubled over as she felt her stomach fall, as if she were going down a roller coaster or falling from a great height. She placed her stomach on her abdomen and her eyes widened in fear. She could feel the hollow hole beneath her shakusho- oh god, was this her shikai?
"Oh, what's this?" Aizen's brow rose imperceptibly. He placed his own zanpakto in a guard position. "My, Ichigo. You certainly inspire loyalty in your friends. I wish I could be so certain of my Espada."
"Rukia you idiot, just run! He's on a whole different level than you!" Ichigo screamed, his reiatsu exploding around him as he charged Aizen. "You're just going to get hurt!"
"Just shut up and fight!" Rukia yelled; she couldn't tell whether she was yelling at Ichigo or Aizen at this point. "You don't have time for worrying about me!"
"You should listen to the lady Ichigo." Aizen said calmly, warding off Ichigo's slashes with careless blocks. "I'll do you a favor and remove her." The traitors form flickered before disappearing altogether. An illusion?
Ichigo's cry was what alerted her to something amiss. Rukia stiffened, looking down in confusion at the blade that had spouted from her body. How did that happen? She didn't even feel it...
"Rukia!" She was only vaguely aware of Ichigo's fear. She felt... light. Sensation was beginning to blossom in her chest and Rukia knew that in a few seconds, shock and pain would override any thoughts of attack.
Now's your chance! Cripple him!
"Tamashī no kyūkei." Rukia whispered, her own blood gurgling in the back of her throat. She tapped her sword to Aizen's, the clear ring of the blade's together laden with reiatsu. The explosion sent Rukia forward, tumbling off of Aizen's zanpakto as he was blasted backward. Rukia landed hard on her face, her teeth cutting her lip and her nose breaking on impact with the stone floor. Her head hit pretty hard as well, and Rukia struggled to stay conscious, her eyes going fuzzy then black, then clear again.
She managed to get a glimpse of Aizen, his zanpakto mired in her attack. The insidious black reiatsu was constricting like a snake on the blade, flexing and bulging until -SNAP. Rukia's head fell back, smiling as Aizen's howl of rage flowed over her ears. There went his ability to cast illusions and his primary weapon; Rukia wasn't naive enough to think that Aizen was powerless, nor that she had permanently disabled him but for this battle- she had just given Ichigo a chance.
"Rukia are you okay?" Ichigo demanded, kneeling by her side. His impatient eye flickered over the blood on her face and the broken blood vessels in her eyes.
"You idiot, go finish him." Rukia said weakly, aspirated blood frothing at her lips. "This is your best chance."
"What did you do to him?" Ichigo said warily, eyeing the enraged form of Aizen, who was trying to blast the black reiatsu off of the remains of his zanpakto. Kuroiyuki, on her part, was enjoying Aizen's spirit particles too much to leave even a sliver of zanpakto for Aizen to scavenge.
"I broke his zanpakto." Rukia said, her voice slurring.
"You what!?"
"A-are you deaf as well as stupid?" Rukia muttered. "He's crippled. Go finish him off and end this damn war already." Ugh, she just wanted to go back to her 13th Division bunk and sleep for days. In fact, sleep seemed like a really good idea right now...
"I'll be quick." She heard Ichigo promise. His orange hair flitted in and out of hazy focus. Huh, Aizen must have hit something important for her to go out so fast...
"You better." she muttered, before she succumbed to unconsciousness.
The world around her rumbled, twitched, and the balance of power shifted.
All was well.
...epilogue...
"How are you doing Rukia-san?" Hanatarou asked cheerfully, checking her bandages and her reitsu levels with practiced efficiency.
"Better, today." Rukia said. She'd been in the 4th Division for over a month and she'd definitely noticed the lessening of pain as time wore on. She could now breath and not feel as though she were being stabbed all over again.
"You're going to be well enough to attend the ceremony today," the 4th Division man said, smiling beatifically. "That's exciting right?" He took out a blood pressure cuff and Rukia, already used to the routine, held out her arm for him to wrap the cuff around. "It's not everyday you are honored by the Captain Commander himself, right?"
"I suppose." Rukia fidgeted, earning a weak glare from Hanatarou. She knew that movement made all his measurements off.
"It wouldn't surprise me if you were promoted to lieutenant for this."
"Huh? Really?" Rukia stuttered. "You think they would promote me?"
Hanatarou nodded. "I mean, people have been wondering for decades why you've been an unseated officer for so long. You're one of the most powerful shinigami in the 13th after all- it's not like a captain can just ignore skill like that, especially with the Winter War casualties." He gestured for her to open her mouth and stuck a thermometer under her tongue. "Hold it for a minute," he said absently before bustling around the small patient room. "-and Ukitake-taicho likes you, so that can't be it."
Rukia shrugged. Honestly, with all that happened with Kaien-dono, Karakura, and Aizen she hadn't really been worried about rank. It hadn't seemed to matter since she was sent on every mission that included Karakura anyway.
"Well, whatever reason there was before, now no one can say that you don't deserve to be a lieutenant- or maybe even a captain!" Hanatarou plucked the thermometer from Rukia's mouth.
"I doubt I'll be considered for any promotions." Rukia said dryly. "Certainly not captain- I don't even have bankai yet."
"Zaraki-taicho doesn't have bankai."
"Zaraki-taicho likes to kill people." Rukia retorted. "Anyway, when do I have to get ready for this ceremony?"
"Uh- right now, actually."
"Right. Send the nurse in on the way out, will you?"
Hanatarou blinked. "I can help you."
"Wow, everyone in Seireitei are perverts."
"Eh- I didn't mean it like that Rukia-san!"
"Just go get a nurse Hanatarou-san."
Rukia felt like she was going to collapse. When Hanatarou had said she was well enough to attend the ceremony, she had expected to be able to stand throughout the entire thing. What she hadn't been expecting was a thirty minute introductory speech by the newest head of the Central 46 thanking the shinigami for their fine service.
She cut her eyes toward the podium, and sighed when she noticed that there were at least 3 pages the long-winded man hadn't even read yet. Then she looked out over the rows of shinigami, arranged neatly by division and swore.
If she collapsed in front of all Seireitei, she'd never hear the end of it! Rukia had already broken out in a cold sweat, and her legs were trembling.
You're so stupid. Her zanpakto hissed, and Rukia could imagine the slit eyes and the contemptuous sneer. Just use me as a cane you nitwit.
So Rukia slipped her zanpakto and scabbard out of her obi and thankfully leaned on it. Her legs felt less like lead, and more like rubber now.
"Oi, Rukia," Rukia turned her head to look up at Ichigo, who was standing in line with her. Beyond him, Renji looked on with a matching look of concern. "Are you okay?"
"I am fine." Rukia responded stiffly out of the corner of her mouth. Her fake, plastic smile was visible for all of Seireitei to see.
"No you're not." Ichigo said firmly, taking in the way she was leaning on her sword like her life depended on it and the sheen of sweat on her face. "You look like you're gonna keel over, midget."
"Fool." Rukia retorted half-heartedly.
"Hmph." Ichigo retorted. The scowl on his face was darkened. Then, he stepped out of the line of captains, lieutenants, and seated shinigami who'd distinguished themselves in the war and turned to face the still droning speaker.
"Ichigo, what are you doing!" Rukia hissed.
"Saving your ass." he retorted, before he turned and marched toward the podium. "Oi! You!"
"and the Central 46 is of course grateful to the- eh?" The politician blinked, and turned to face the orange haired man.
"Yeah, your time to speak is over." Ichigo said. "Some people at this damn thing actually have lives that they'd like to return to."
"What is the meaning of this?" the man sputtered. He whirled, looking to the Soutaicho, who was standing calmly by as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. He was ignored.
"I think I told you to move along." Ichigo said. "I dont' think there is a single sane person here who wants you to finish your damn speech. Honestly, I don't think anyone was listening." There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd, and a more subdued vibe of thank-god-almighty-i-was-going-to-snap-and-kill-everyone from the captains who had been trapped in the line of 'heroes' with Rukia and Ichigo. The politician almost retorted, but a look at Ichigo's scowl had him reconsidering, and he disappeared off the dais with a flutter of papers and robe.
"Old man, if you could get on with it!?" Ichigo gestured to the soutaicho, turning on his heel to move back to his place in line.
"Ahem, well." the soutaicho cleared his throat. "It is my privilege to display the men and women who have shown their dedication to the safety of the world through their actions in the Winter War. Particularly, Ichigo Kurosaki who finished the traitor Aizen, and Rukia Kuchiki, who crippled him though gravely wounded herself, and turned the tide of the conflict."
The roar of the cheering legions was deafening.
"And it is my great pleasure to honor both of them for their sacrifice." Yamamoto's voice boomed, silencing all other noise. "Ichigo Kurosaki, I grant you the haori of the Fifth Division and hope you serve it well."
Rukia snickered at the dumb-founded look on Ichigo's face. What an idiot. Didn't he know about these plans? Even Kenpachi knew, and he's notorious for not giving a shit about secrecy.
"And for Rukia Kuchiki, I present the lieutenants badge of the Fifth Division." Oh.
Oh, well. That's a surprise.
"Thank you sir." Rukia managed weakly, swaying a little dangerously. She's never felt so un-fit for duty than she did right then, not the least because she still had a few holes punched through her from Aizen's blade.
And maybe that was okay. She chanced a look up at Ichigo, who had recovered from his shock and had resumed scowling. He caught her stare out of the corner of his eye, and he turned to look at her. His frown softened, and the back of his neck flushed slightly pink.
Yes. All was well.