Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo and those people/companies that publish Bleach. I own nothing except my meagre attempts at playing in his sandbox.
Warnings: Pretty much everybody's mouth, described violence (it IS Bleach, after all), canon goes out the window with a reiatsu-enhanced kick, unbetaed
Please read Dragon Eclipse through Chapter 8 first, or you will be horribly lost. This is a side story to that one, one of the paths I could have taken when I was planning it out.
Also, I really just wanted to stab Aizen.
(Everything's green) - Subconscious flow of thoughts
(*Why is everything green?*) - Uryuu actively thinking
(*Because it is.*) - Ichigo actively thinking
(*Who th'hell cares?!*) - Shiro actively thinking
(*Peace, hollow.*) - Old Man Zangetsu actively thinking
Shiro cursed up a storm, as he watched first Zangetsu, then Uryuu, and finally Ichigo appear in their shared mindscape. The Old Man's coat was smoking, and Shiro could see the blackened flesh of Zangetsu's hands even from a distance. Uryuu didn't seem much better off, not moving even when Shiro prodded his new landlord with a foot.
He didn't even bother checking Ichigo. He could tell the instant his Aibo appeared that the teen was unconscious just like the other two.
"Do I fucking gotta do everything 'ere?!" Shiro shouted at the unresponsive spirits, frustration welling up in him. He didn't want to die, he refused to die, and if the other fragments of the whole wouldn't wake up and deal with it, then he'd just do it himself!
Shiro forced himself to the fore, taking stock of the damage dealt to Uryuu's body as he did. Not much stood out to him beyond the haze of reiatsu depletion and general aches; a few wounds were deep, but none of them seemed to be in critical locations and all were partially healed over already. He forced open heavy eyelids and pushed himself to his feet, calling up his blade with effort.
Wasted effort, it appeared. There was no sign of Aizen anywhere, or the titanic combat they'd been involved in. The grass was pristine beneath his feet, instead of being torn up by various attacks he knew had missed. Mountains rose to his right, and a forest stretched who knew how far to his left, and none of it held any sign of combat.
"Th'fuck?" Shiro whispered, as he allowed his defensive stance to fall and slung his sword back over his shoulder. On one hand, the lack of threat was a bonus; Uryuu's bankai had fallen when Ichigo fell, and the exhaustion dragging at his limbs told Shiro all he needed to know about his chances of safely regaining bankai.
But it left him off balance, confused in a way he truly hated being. Shiro frowned darkly at the innocent land around him, then stretched his senses out as far as they could go, searching for the bastard Ichigo and Uryuu had been fighting. He found… nothing.
Not even the echo of Karakura's mingled reiatsu signatures. It was as if the town had never been transported to Soul Society, as if everything Shiro was certain he knew was wrong. He had no idea what Aizen's insane plan for Karakura had actually been, but surely destroying the town would have left something behind to sense?
So he reached further, pushing his personal reiatsu as far as he could, and brushed against… a strangely calm Seireitei?
Shiro turned to stared off into the distance, trying to reconcile what he sensed now with what he had expected. Seireitei was calm, filled with whole, hale, calm Captains. They stood out like beacons to his senses, but he barely recognized any of them. There was the banked-fire feel of the Soutaichou, and the deadly healer Captain, and the other two old men — the sick one and the lazy one — but the rest of them?
There was one that sort of felt like that priss Ichigo hadn't let him kill, but not really, and he couldn't sense the stab-happy one at all. What he did sense, however, were the Visored. Except… they weren't? The Hollow edge to their reiatsu was gone, and Shiro could have sworn most of them felt weaker than he expected. When had Hat'n'Clogs had the time, or inspiration, to remove the Hollows from the Visored?
The sheer unnaturalness of the moment shook Shiro to his core, a shiver crawling down his spine as he tried to force the world to start making sense again. Distantly, he could even feel Aizen, but the man felt… reduced. Like a shadow of the monster they had been chasing.
The reiatsu presences of the Captains recaptured his attention, as agitation swept through the ranks and the started moving about. Shiro frowned, trying to determine what was wrong, and if it warranted him pushing himself to investigate. When he felt two just barely familiar signatures move towards him, shock and understanding forced him to pull his reiatsu back in and tuck it away as tightly as he could.
"Shit," he breathed, as he cast a frantic glance around the clearing he was standing in. The Captains were after him, there was nowhere to hide, and the world had gone crazy enough that he was not going to try and rely on supposed familiarity to keep them from attacking him.
The Visored never did have a good opinion on him anyway, Shiro acknowledged with a scowl, and him being in control would not endear him to them further.
"Fuckin' bastard Shinigami," Shiro muttered, as he forced his exhausted by to stumble towards the forest. "Even after livin' fer a fuckin' hundred years as Visoreds, th'bastards still gotta hunt anything that fuckin' stands out. Do they get fuckin' hard-ons from hatin' themselves?"
Panic clawed at his mind, as the Shinigami closed the distance. He would never make it to safety in time, not with the way he was feeling. The forest was close, but where would he hide? It was a dense forest, Shiro could see, with a thick canopy and huge trunks, with little between them. No easy places to hide. No quick escape.
Instincts reared up, driven by his growing desperation. Wisps of reiatsu clung to his fingers as he clawed at the air in front of him, tearing a hole through reality that he promptly fell through and sealed behind him. He didn't so much land on a path as an island, a tiny red platform in the vast emptiness of the precipice world. Pockmarks marred the surface under his hands, and the edges of the platform faded off into thin wisps of red, like mist burning away in the sun.
Shiro grunted, pushed himself over onto his back, and stared up at the blackness he had entered through. He almost expected the Captains to leap through the veil after him, but… no. They couldn't could they? He almost wished he'd paid more attention to Hat'n'Clogs, but… that was supposed to be Aibo's place.
"An' now I gotta save all our fuckin' asses," Shiro grumbled, as he dredged up the will to push himself to his feet. The darkness stretched forever in every direction, and Shiro stared blankly at the featureless realm around him. How was he supposed to navigate this?
A tiny tug on his instincts made him turn around, to peer off into the darkness. He saw nothing different about one direction over another, but… his instincts insisted that safety was in that direction.
With a shrug, Shiro set off, forging a path before him and making it as smooth as he could in the face of his depleted state. It seemed an eternity, marked only by his increasing fatigue and the narrowing path, before his instincts twinged again, causing him to raise reiatsu-coated fingers to tear aside the veil between realities once more. His path opened out into the dimly lit Forest of Menos, with its glittering not-trees and the constant rumble of Hollow cries.
With a soft curse, Shiro stepped through, pulling the remains of his reiatsu in as close as he could. He was in no condition to deal with swarms of small fry yet, but it was better than sticking around to try and sweet talk the former Visored into accepting him. They hadn't liked when Ichigo started talking with him rationally instead of just beating him the fuck down, no way in hell they'd accept him being in control no matter what extenuating circumstances there were.
No, he was better off here, where the only trouble he had to worry about was a bit of uncomplicated predator-prey interaction. He'd just find a little cave to tuck himself away in and call it a night.
Shiro summoned as much strength as he could and wandered deeper into the forest, eyes scanning constantly and senses as alert as he could drive them. Exhaustion dragged at his feet, the nearly empty well of reiryoku in their soul taking a toll on Uryuu's body. It was only because his own reiryoku hadn't been touched by whatever stupid stunt had caused this chain of events that Shiro could even move, and he was quickly running dry.
He'd never quite been away of exactly how much of their combined strength went into keeping their body functioning, until he was having to support it all on his own. Even consciously reigning in his natural healing was doing nothing but delaying the inevitable; by himself, his natural reiryoku regeneration couldn't compete with the demands of this body that had already partially adapted to the strength of their combined soul.
Add in the starvation they were suffering — three months of training took a toll when all they could 'eat' was the reiatsu in the air — and Shiro was running on fumes and a stubborn refusal to just lay down and die.
A hole in the base of a not-tree caught his attention, and Shiro crouched beside it to peer as deep into it as he could. He could neither see nor sense anything deeper in, and the tunnel was large enough that he could crawl into it and still have room to defend himself.
Shiro pulled a Ginto free, and cracked it open the way Uryuu had. The short blade of light erupted in his hand, a much more manageable weapon in the confined space he was about to enter than the dao. The dao might be suited to stabbing, but it was still as long as he was tall; taking that out in an enclosed space was just asking for trouble.
He crept into the hole, senses pushed to their limit and nerves strung tight. He was running out of time. He needed rest, they needed rest, and the couldn't do that unless they were mostly safe first. If this tunnel was a bust, he'd just mound sand up to block a section off and hope nothing came to dig him out.
The tunnel opened out into a small cave, just large enough for Shiro to stand upright and look around. Tiny lizard Hollows skittered away from the light of the Ginto, leaving the cave otherwise empty and silent. Shiro marked the holes the lizards had escaped into, noting that none of them were large enough for him to fit through, and took in the rest of the place. Beyond the tunnel he had crawled through, only two other holes were large enough for him to fit through, and there didn't seem to be any other way into the cave than those three entrances.
Deeming the place acceptable, Shiro mounded sand into the three largest holes, then made himself a hollow in the sand that remained. Darkness fell as he resealed the Ginto and hooked it back in place, leaving him to curl up by the faint shimmer of the mineral tree he was inside.
The soft skittering of the lizards was the last sound he heard, as darkness claimed him.
Uryuu came to slowly, feeling worse than he ever had in his life. From his overstuffed head to his aching limbs, his body was one giant collection of agony. Even his reserves ached, a dull empty throb that was almost worse than when he had burned himself out.
When he finally managed to pry his eyes open, he gazed dumbly at the glittering white sand and blue-grey stone, trying to piece together what had led up to this. A masked lizard skittered across his line of sight, drawing up memories of traveling through Hueco Mundo alongside Ichigo.
But a simple check inward disproved any hope that it had all been just a nightmare; though Ichigo and the other two were clearly unconscious, he could still sense them. So. Not a dream, or a delusion, which left… what?
He pushed himself upright, taking in the small cave with its crudely blocked tunnels. Try as he might, he couldn't piece it all together; he remembered fighting Aizen, and skewering the man with a Ginto-boosted arrow, and the kidou that engulfed them, but beyond that… nothing.
Uryuu buried his face in his hands and desperately tried to dredge anything up. How had he found himself back in Hueco Mundo, exhausted and tucked away in some hidden cave? Could Aizen's illusions simulate the bone-deep ache he was experiencing? Was he trapped in a world of the madman's making, lost forever as the Three Worlds fell around his ears?
He didn't think so. And he was certain he had never witnessed the release of Aizen's blade. Which left… what? A blank gap between fighting to escape the kidou and waking up in Hueco Mundo.
Uryuu finally just sighed and accepted that he would have no answers until the other pieces of himself awoke once more. Until then, he needed to rest and recover his reiryoku.
His stomach growled at the thought, making him grimace and thoughtfully eye the skittering little lizards. Ambient reishi was one thing, but he was swiftly reaching the limit of being able to sustain himself with just that. And hadn't he postulated that there was essentially a whole chain of life here in this desert?
Uryuu shook his head sharply to dismiss the thought, feeling faintly sick at what he had been considering. No. For now, he could live a bit longer with just the ambient reishi. If he found himself trapped here, then he'd contemplate eating the little Hollows, but not before that time.
It was more difficult to absorb the reishi in Hueco Mundo than it had been in the dangai; the reishi still seared at the last vestiges of his Quincy heritage, though it was manageable. More like attempting to eat very spicy food, rather than acid.
He lost track of time, settled into his meditation and ignoring the protests of his body. Even in this rich environment, he was finding it hard to outpace his body's requirements; he had so many injuries, was drained so dry, that every drop of reishi was gone nearly as fast as he absorbed it. He couldn't even sense his own reiatsu, with the way his power had turned inward to heal and sustain he wondered if he even had any presence at all. It would explain the way the little lizards were so boldly investigating him.
(*Uryuu..?*) Ichigo's sleepy voice interrupted his meditation, signaling his friend's return to consciousness.
Relief rushed through Uryuu at his friend's voice, and he twisted his meditation inward, following Ichigo's voice into his mindscape. He appeared before Ichigo, inside one of the sideways towers, and took in the room at a glance.
Ichigo was easy to spot, sitting right in front of Uryuu and using a wall to prop himself up. A careful examination reassured Uryuu that Ichigo was tired but otherwise unharmed from whatever had happened to them.
Zangetsu, on the other hand, was sprawled across the floor like a discarded doll. It hardly looked comfortable, and Uryuu wasted no time in moving to the spirit and rearranging the man into a more nature repose.
"Is he..?" Ichigo watched from his spot against the wall while Uryuu tended to Zangetsu.
Uryuu grimaced, wondering how to answer that. Zangetsu was showing no signs of reacting to his touch, and the man's blackened and cracked palms were worrying. Still, the spirit was breathing, and Kaito could already see the faintest edge of newly healed skin around the edges of the burnt area.
"I think he'll be fine," Uryuu finally said. He gently arranged the Old Man's arms across his chest, palms turned to the side so the burnt skin wasn't touching anything. There was very little else he could do at the moment. "His hands look to already be healing, and I can't see anything else obviously wrong."
It took him a moment to spot Shiro, with the way the spirit had tucked himself away in a corner and curled into a tight ball. Much like Ichigo, Uryuu couldn't see any obvious signs of wounding, and felt relief in the knowledge that they had all survived relatively unharmed.
"Wh— oh, what happened? Did we win?" Ichigo asked around a yawn.
Uryuu shook his head and moved back to Ichigo, sliding down the wall to seat himself next to his friend. "I don't know. I only woke up a while ago, exhausted and pretty much empty of reiryoku, somewhere in Hueco Mundo.
Ichigo's brows furrowed, his perpetual scowl deepening. "In Hueco Mundo? But…"
"I know," Uryuu responded quietly. He glanced over at Shiro's curled form. "I think he had something to do with that, but whether it was a planned retreat or an instinctive reaction…"
"Both," Shiro muttered grumpily, one amber eye cracking open to fix Ichigo and Uryuu with a tired glared. "Can't y'two talk quieter? Some a'us're tryin' t'recover from whatev'r th'fuck happened."
"Shiro, what can you tell us?" Ichigo ask, ignoring Shiro's grumbles about bothersome landlords.
The spirit finally pushed himself upright with a sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration and leaving it an even spikier mess. His eyes were barely open, and Uryuu was certain Shiro wasn't actually focusing on them, just looking in their direction.
It was disconcerting to see Shiro so exhausted and out of it, Uryuu mused. It was not something he ever wanted to see again.
"Okay, look, here's what I know," Shiro finally spoke, glowering down at the floor in front of him. "Th'three a'ya passed th'fuck out in th'middle a'the fight with Aizen. So I took over. Cept, when I got out there, Aizen wasn't there."
"He ran?" Ichigo asked.
Shiro hesitated a moment, then shook his head. "Look, this is gunna sound weird as fuck, an' I don't even really b'lieve it m'self, but… I don't think we're in our world anymore. When I took over, there weren't any signs a'combat, an' I couldn't sense Karakura, an' I could sense the Visored in Seireitei, cept they weren't Visored anymore. An' I could sense Aizen, but he wasn't… he wasn't th'same. He felt weak."
Ichigo and Uryuu exchanged glances, wary and uncertain.
Uryuu felt like his mind had ground to a halt while trying to process Shiro's words. He'd accuse the spirit of lying, or exaggerating, but Shiro's tone said it all. What he was saying was what he saw as truth, and Shiro himself could barely believe it. Ichigo had never been a great liar, and nothing Uryuu had seen in the past months told him that Shiro was any better at it, especially exhausted and grumpy.
"If… if we're not in our world anymore…" Ichigo started to say, before he swallowed hard and looked away, staring out one window at the mineral trees of the Menos Forest. "If we're not in our own world, then…"
"Then Aizen might not be evil here," Uryuu finished, before he shook his head and gathered his courage with both hands. "There's another option. If there was no sign of combat, then that could mean we're back in time. Especially if the Visored weren't… what they are."
Except that opened up an entirely new can of worms, Uryuu realized with a sick feeling. It really hadn't been mentioned around him much, but hadn't the event that caused the Visored to become, well, Visored, happened over a century ago?
If they were back before that event…
Ichigo's scowl had transformed into a sick grimace, clearly having connected the dots that Uryuu had followed himself.
"We have to find out," Ichigo forced out. "We can't just sit here and speculate. Shiro, you got us here, right?"
"Yeh, I had ta run from th'Captains when they sensed me," Shiro said warily.
"Doesn't matter," Ichigo responded. "We need to go to the Living World. Soul Society and Hueco Mundo don't change the way the Living World does, and we're more familiar with it anyway."
Shiro straightened up, his gaze steady on Ichigo as the two fell into a silent staring contest. Uryuu forced himself not to fidget, though he couldn't keep his hands from clenching so tightly his knuckles started to turn white. They had to know, had to find out, and Shiro was their only reliable way out of Hueco Mundo. If the spirit decided he wouldn't help…
"Fine," Shiro grumbled and glowered between Ichigo and Uryuu. "But I fuckin' ain't bringing ya back here until I've actually rested, so don't come cryin' ta me when some shit goes wrong again."
"Thanks, Shiro," Ichigo murmured, as the spirit vanished from the mindscape.
Shiro didn't even bother leaving the little cave he had found. Instead, he pushed himself to his feet, stomped vengefully on one of the harmless little lizards just to hear it squeak, and glowered at the space in front of him.
Slowly, as he forced himself to remember what it felt like to cross the void between worlds, his fingers became coated with wisps of red reiatsu. He swiped his hand across the air in front of his, tearing through the veil, and stepped through into the void.
The green and black platform that formed beneath his feet was large and smooth, though it still faded away into wisps of reiatsu along the edges. The color difference was reassuring, even if he had still used only his personal reiatsu to tear open the Garganta. Their reserves had clearly started to fill once more despite their hunger, even if Shiro was certain there were still barely at a quarter of their normal strength.
He set off across the void, listening to his instincts as he tried to direct himself to appear near the edge of Karakura. That should give him time to assess the situation, and flee back to Hueco Mundo if things looked particularly bad. The possibility of being over a century in the past was a grim one, and despite his words to the contrary he'd really rather not die after all the effort he'd gone through to keep them alive.
His instincts flared, and Shiro raised reiatsu-coated fingers to once more claw open a Garganta.
Shiro stepped out into the air, on the edge of a Karakura so vastly different from his memories that it was like an alien world. Cautiously, he reached out, probing and searching for strong presences and finding only emptiness in response. Even the concentration of reishi in the air felt lower than what he was used to.
(*We're in fuckin' trouble,*) Shiro muttered to the other two. He reluctantly allowed the Garganta to close behind him and started moving slowly closer to the town.
(*No shit,*) Uryuu responded, as he took in the town laid out below them. Traditional buildings, no more than three stories high, filled the town, with no sign of the more modern western style buildings that had crept in over the decades. No cars traveled the streets, just carts and people walking on foot, and the town itself was smaller than he was accustomed to. But even with all of that, there were still familiar areas amongst all the strangeness: the shrine, the layout of some of the streets, even a few of the historical buildings were there… albeit looking a lot less historic while surrounded by other contemporary buildings.
(*What do we do now?*)
Their stomach gave another grumble, and Uryuu gave a short, bitter laugh. (*Steal food, what else can we do?*)
(*What?!*)
Shiro frowned at Ichigo's flare of disgust and denial. He agreed with Uryuu, they didn't have time to do things properly, so stealing was their best option. With that in mind, he landed atop a rooftop and started making his way across the roofs, searching out a market place that had food available.
(*If we were in our time, I could snitch some money from my past self. But here… even if I was carrying money, it wouldn't be any good here. No, the only thing we can do is steal if we want to live.*)
(*Hate ta break up this touchin' moment a'morality, but I think we got bigger problems.*) Shiro announced to the other two, once his mind finally caught up with what his senses were telling him. He stopped on a rooftop, in clear view of the people down below, and stared thoughtfully at the bustling pedestrians. Not a single one turned to look up at him, not even when they crossed his distinctly human-shaped shadow.
When Uryuu and Ichigo turned their attention to him, Shiro waved a hand towards the crowd and braced himself for what was to come. (*Watch.*)
Before either could protest or make a grab for control, Shiro flashed into the middle of the crowd, surrounding them in humanity. He could feel Uryuu bracing for the outcry, and even Ichigo was projecting anxiety at the stunt, but…
Nothing happened. The people just walked around him, not even giving him a single glance. One man even made as if to walk through him, before Shiro moved out of the way. Shiro just sighed, shoulders slumping as his suspicion was proven correct, and flashed back up to the rooftop.
(*We're in spirit form,*) Ichigo's voice was worried. (*They can't see us, or even really sense us. Shit. Is food from the Living World really going to help us then?*)
(*Rukia ate it, didn't she?*)
Shiro frowned and shook his head, before resuming his survey of the town. Finding a stall to steal from was even more important now, before they wasted too much energy here in the Living World. If the food wasn't helpful to them, he'd have to run them back to Hueco Mundo before they depleted their already tiny reserves.
(*When she was in the gigai, yeah. But we're not in a gigai, and without Hat'n'Clogs around…*)
He could feel the moment when Uryuu grasped the severity of their situation, could feel the wavering strength and feel the way Uryuu grasped at the two of them for stability.
(*We're going to have to go to Soul Society.*)
(*If we can't live on the food here, yeah.*)
Shiro snorted quietly and stared down at the food stalls that he'd found. His Aibo could be so dense at times; it was one of the things he despaired most over about the teen. He might despise running and hiding like a mouse, but even Shiro could admit that they were definitely not in fighting trim. And the implications of that, in a place like this…
(*We're going to have to anyway! I can already tell Karakura isn't a reishi rich as it is in our time, and none of us know how Urahara or the Visored managed to stay hidden for a century!*) Uryuu bit out, trying to lay their trouble out for Ichigo. (*If we stay here, Seireitei will find us, and you know their opinion on people who are different!*)
Shiro nodded in absent agreement with Koneko's words, as he sized up a stall that looked promising. Even he could tell that they would register quickly to Seireitei, long before they regained their full strength. And while the first few people they sent would probably be easy to deal with, eventually a Captain would come after them, and that would be hit or miss depending upon who was sent. Even if they managed to remain free, eventually someone would come, or enough Shinigami would be sent, that they couldn't deal with it.
(*Then we'll just have to beat some sense into them!*) Ichigo declared. (*Can't be that hard, since I already did it once.*)
(*In the midst of one of the largest betrayals in their history, after their ruling body was brutally murdered by Aizen and the Gotei 13 puppeted by him, Gin, and that blind guy!*)
(*Good news!*) Shiro announced to break through the rising argument. He casually swallowed the bite of food and took another from the meat bun that he'd stolen while they were distracted. (*It ain't perfect, but we can live on th'food here. At least long enough ta get some of our strength back.*)
Shiro ignored Ichigo's sputtered protests about stealing and immorality and polished off the meat bun. His attention was caught next by a fruit vendor, and it only took a heartbeat of inattention on the vendor's part for him to flash in, snitch a couple of fruit, and flash back out.
(*Hmm. I think th'fruit is better for us?*) Shiro mused as he lounged atop a roof and ate the evidence.
Uryuu sighed, thumped Ichigo to get him to stop grousing, and replied, (*In this time, produce would be mostly locally grown, especially fruits. The likelihood of them absorbing reishi as they grow is high, which would help us more. And you, shut up, unless you have a better plan.*)
Mercifully, Ichigo stopped grumbling, though Shiro could tell his Aibo was still very unhappy about this path.
Well, whatever. He was a Hollow, a creature of instinct and survival, and if he had to steal to further that survival, he damn well would.
They spent a week flitting about the town, gathering what little information they could and filling their stomach as often as it would permit, before Uryuu finally accepted defeat.
(*We can't stay here any longer,*) Uryuu told the other two firmly. He fiddled with the nashi (Japanese pear) in his hand, barely able to bring himself to eat it.
Heavy silence met his announcement. All of them were aware that the food of the Living World had been doing less and less for them as they regained their strength. Tellingly, Zangetsu had yet to awaken, though his hands were mostly healed by this point. Even Ichigo and Shiro were having trouble staying awake for long periods of time, though that time had slowly grown as they'd recovered their reserves.
Uryuu had also begun to notice the way the humans would flinch and move away from them, their unrestrained reiatsu finally growing beyond the bounds of his body once more and starting to affect the world around them. Already a few Hollows had come sniffing around, forcing him to dispatch them before Seireitei got involved. He'd made an effort to reign it all in, but even at this level it was a trial to keep it restrained for more than an hour or two before it started slipping out of his grip again.
It was all pointed to an encroaching point of no return, and they needed to act upon it before the Shinigami became too interested in Karakura.
Still. Even if it wasn't his Karakura, Uryuu was reluctant to leave the known quantity of the Living World in favor of Soul Society. At least here, he had history lessons and knew the general path of the world. Who knew what was going on in Soul Society, and how much attention he would attract by moving there.
(*We have to,*) Ichigo reluctantly agreed.
Uryuu sighed, finished off the nashi, and flicked the core away. (*Shiro, if you would?*)
Uryuu stepped aside, allowed Shiro to shift forward and take control of his body. They'd discussed this earlier in the week, deciding that using Shiro's ability to cross the precipice world through Garganta was the only way in.
Shiro stretched, flexed his fingers, and tore through the veil in a heartbeat. He crossed the void at a careful lope, aiming for the Forest of Menos. He was unsure if he could cross directly from the Living World to Soul Society, and he wasn't willing to test that when they were trying to sneak in.
They barely paused a moment in the Forest, just long enough for his first Garganta to seal up and for Shiro to carve a second. This time, he was aiming for the outer reaches of Soul Society; all those forest had to have something living in them, didn't they?
Their first breath of Soul Society's air released a coil of tension in them that none of them were aware of. The heavy, rich reishi that permeated the world was like coming home, and for a moment they just reveled in it.
(*Well, let's see who's around.*) Uryuu reached past Shiro and felt for the nearest presences, making sure to keep his own signature as straightforward and Shinigami as he could. He didn't contest Shiro's control, knowing they might need the benefit of a quick escape if they'd appeared too close to Seireitei, but… it didn't look like that was the case.
Distantly, he could sense Seireitei, a weighty presence just on the edges of his senses. There didn't even seem to be many Shinigami nearby, only…
(*Aizen,*) Uryuu snarled in recognition when he placed the familiar, if weaker, presence. There were at least three others with the traitor, but all of them were pathetically weak, not even an equal to him when he was just a Quincy.
Shiro stilled, turning towards Aizen and letting the Garganta close behind him. He held himself back by the skin of his teeth, but every instinct in him was screaming to destroy the bastard. (*Lemme at him! I'll make th'bastard wish he'd never been born!*)
Inside him, he could sense Uryuu and Ichigo pulling back, tucking every hint of Quincy and Shinigami reiatsu away with them. It left his instincts closer to the surface, poised and pointed straight at Aizen.
(*Call your mask, make it look like a Hollow kill. If we want to live here, we can't be linked to his murder.*)
(*With. Pleasure.*)
Shiro slashed his clawed fingers over his face, feeling his mask materialize and harden. Like hound freed from its leash, Shiro darted off into the force, homing in on Aizen unerringly. The world narrowed, tunneling in on Aizen and his reiatsu, a siren call to kill that Shiro had no intention of denying. Wind rushed past, his body enhanced and singing with the freedom, his steps too quick for sound to betray his path.
He reached the edge of the small clearing. Blurred across the space before anyone could cry out.
Aizen had his back to him. Didn't get a chance to turn.
Shiro's reinforced hand punched straight through Aizen's chest. Flesh, muscle, bone, it all parted with a pleasing wet shlickt-crack! sound. Viciously, he clenched his hand around the traitor's heart and ripped it free of the man's chest. Crushed the organ. Tossed it in the face of a minion. Used his other hand to rip Aizen's throat open, nearly decapitating the man in the process.
He wasn't going to take chances.
As Aizen's body crumbled to the ground, Shiro lowered his head, cero charging between his horns, and vaporized two of the minions. The third had struggled to his feet and tried to run, but ran straight into Shiro's fist. The third's neck snapped, head whipping around at an impossible angle, and his body crumpled to the ground.
Thoughtfully, Shiro gazed down at the destruction he had wrought in the space of a few seconds. Something glittered on the ground, and he knelt to poke at the stone that had rolled out of a glass beaker.
The stone… smelled delicious. It was a roiling mix of power and souls, barely contained and poorly balanced. Shiro snatched it up and, before Uryuu could do more than register what he was doing, swallowed the thing whole.
(*Shiro! Goddamnit, why the hell did you do that?!*)
(*What? I was fuckin' hungry,*) Shiro groused and stood back up, glaring down at Aizen's body. He stomped the man's head into the ground for good measure. Served the asshole right. (*And there's no way I'd eat this bastard. He might be catching.*)
(*You just ate the Hougyoku!*) Ichigo's strangled protest made Shiro blink. (*We just ate the Hougyoku! What the fuck is that going to do to us?!*)
(*That pissant lil thing was th'fuckin' Hougyoku? Didn't seem like a stone of all power.*) Shiro lowered his head and charged another cero, using it to vaporize most of Aizen's body and clean up more of the scene. (*Kinda tangy, too.*)
Shiro cackled at Uryuu and Ichigo's sputtering, then moved to wipe his hand clean on a scrap of cloth that had escaped his cero. Another cero eliminated that from the world, and Shiro was pretty pleased with the way his attack had gone down. It was bloody. It was messy. It was final. It was everything Aizen deserved and it left a curl of pleasure in Shiro's chest.
A rustling in the nearby bushes caught his attention, and he whipped around to face it, head lowering and cero beginning to form as a little brat stepped out into the open.
"Ya killed him," the silver-haired brat said, his narrow eyes darting between Shiro and the rather gruesome remnants of Aizen.
(*Is that..?*)
Shiro paused in building the cero, then let it dissipate as he straightened back up. Gin had been a traitor, but this little brat was barely worth his effort to kill.
Gin didn't seem phased by his silent regard, and only moved closer. There was something uncomfortably like fascination in Gin's stance. "Ya killed him, an' he didn't even has a chance ta fight back."
"What's it to ya, brat?" Shiro growled. Did the kid have no sense of self-preservation at all?
"Teach me," Gin stood in front of Shiro and demanded, staring defiantly up at him. "He hurt my friend, and I was gunna become a Shinigami ta kill him, but ya did it as easy as breathin'. Teach me."
Shiro blinked, raised a hand to rub at his ear, and silently queried the other two just to see if they'd heard the same thing he had. At their stunned agreement, Shiro couldn't help but bark a laugh full of disbelief and incredulity. "Bit a'advice, brat. Hollows're more dangerous th'more human they look."
"But ya haven't killed me yet," Gin rebutted, crossing his arms over his chest and apparently attempting to look intimidating. Shiro just thought he looked adorable, like a fox kit baring its teeth.
"Yer probably stringy as hell." Shiro patted his stomach and gave a toothy grin that seemed to translate through his mask, if the way Gin shifted slightly away from him was anything to go by. "Sides, I'm goddamn full right now."
And he was. Already he could feel the power in the maybe-Hougyoku filling their combined reserves, the handful of souls it had contained fading away in the face of their sense of self. He felt better than he had in months, like he could take on the world. Was this how Aizen had felt?
(*Let's not fall into that trap,*) Uryuu urged. (*I'd rather not become a crazy megalomaniac. Those sort of people never have good lives, and rarely good deaths either.*)
Shiro just snorted and glanced at Aizen's remains. He supposed Uryuu had a point. Even Aizen had fallen, though only as a result of an insane series of events Shiro doubted would ever happen again. But with people like Urahara around, he couldn't say for certain that it wouldn't. Also, fuck that butterfly form. If that was a requirement for 'advancing beyond others', Shiro would pass.
Deciding to just leave the brat alone — Gin would make his own way in the world, just like he had before — Shiro turned and started to leave.
Only to tilt his head and stare down at the brat trotting at his side to keep up with his long strides.
"Yer not gunna let this go, are ya?" Shiro grumbled at the brat. At the brat's shake of his head, Shiro snorted and stopped moving. "Fine, what th'fuck ever. Koneko, ya deal with th'lil shit."
Uryuu grunted as Shiro shoved him into control, and reached up to shift the mask from his face, letting it hand to the side. The mask showed no signs of dispersing quite yet — likely a result of Shiro's reiatsu still clinging heavily to his body and drowning out his other natures — and Uryuu couldn't be bothered trying to make it disperse. Not when he had a miniature traitor staring up at him with wide, astonished eyes.
"What are ya?" Gin breathed with something uncomfortably like hero worship in his voice.
Uryuu winced and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to copy Ichigo's best glower in an attempt to intimidate the brat into leaving. "Something unique. Something Seireitei would kill in a heartbeat if they found me, along with anyone else they caught me with."
That was… probably not the best thing to say, Uryuu realized abruptly. Gin's gaze had turned calculating, and he could practically read the plan that was forming. The brat had already infiltrated the Shinigami once, with the intention of killing Aizen, but now with Aizen dead—
"And if you even think about becoming a Shinigami, just to tear that entire bloated structure down, I will kill you myself." Uryuu growled as he took a step towards Gin and brought as much of his reiatsu to bear on the kid as he dared. "I neither need or want your misplaced gratitude. I didn't kill Aizen for you."
"I know," Gin forced out between ragged breaths. He'd been forced to his knees by Uryuu's burst of power, but already he was struggling back to his feet, resolve in every line of his body. "But ya still killed him, an' I owe ya fer that."
"Then repay me by going away and forgetting about me." He reigned his reiatsu back in, unwilling to continue creating a beacon for every Shinigami around, just to try and intimidate one little kid. Albeit, a very annoying little kid that grew up into a very annoying and creepy adult — and wasn't there something about being a genius in there too? He couldn't recall — but Gin was still just a kid at the moment.
"Ya sure ya want me ta do that?" Gin asked cheekily, his grin just as creepy as it was on his adult self. "I could go and join the Shinigami ta bring 'em all down the minute I leave ya sight."
Uryuu took a breath, held it in, counted to ten, and let it back out. It didn't help. Neither did the next three attempts. "You're blackmailing me."
Gin's grin just grew larger, his eyes slitting closed in an approximation of his adult self's fox-grin.
They stayed that way for a long, silent moment, before Uryuu finally sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd been out-stubborned by a kid, goddamnit it. "Fine. You mentioned a friend, let's go fetch them and get away from here before the damn Shinigami start nosing around."
Gin's startled look let Uryuu know the boy hadn't actually expected Uryuu to give in. "Eh, she'll do fine, I—"
"Stop," Uryuu growled, temper flaring at Gin's words. He took a step closer, using his height to tower over the kid, and glared down at him. "Are you suggesting abandoning your friend? The one you were going to join Seireitei just to get revenge for?"
"Er… yes?"
"Then clearly you don't value her friendship," Uryuu spat as he turned on his heel and stalked off. "Friends don't abandon friends. Get lost, brat. I won't have such a fickle person around."
Ichigo's steady presence was the only thing that kept Uryuu from lashing out at Gin. Had this happened in the past-that-was? What had happened to Gin's friend when the boy abandoned her to chase Aizen?
"Wait!" Gin shouted as he raced after Uryuu, grabbing hold of Uryuu's sleeve with one small hand. "I just… I don't want ta abandon her! But I don't wanna drag her down with me, she's too good fer that, I… I…"
Uryuu stared down at Gin, lips pursed as he considered the boy. There was always the chance Gin was just lying, trying to stay on his good side in the hopes of being trained, but… part of Uryuu truly wanted to believe the boy's words. That he honestly thought his friend didn't deserve to be dragged into revenge and the morass of trouble that was likely to follow. The part of him that had been captured by Ichigo's magnetism, that hunted out loopholes in promises just to fight at his friend's side, wanted to cling to that belief. "You know she'd follow anyway, if she truly believes in you. Even if you abandoned her, she'd still hunt you down and try to get involved."
Or maybe she wouldn't, Uryuu had to accept, as he tried to remember if there were any Shinigami trying to reach Gin. But… there was that other Shinigami with him, both of them dying, right before he had fought Aizen. Was that the boy's friend? Had she followed him into Seireitei, only to both lose their lives at the end of Gin's bid for revenge?
Gin shuffled his feet awkwardly, looking away from Uryuu's gaze, and he admitted softly, "I hoped she wouldn't."
Uryuu snorted and shook his head, thinking back on all the things Ichigo had done for him, and all the things he had done in return. "That's not what friends do. They don't forget, and they don't leave you alone to shoulder the burden on your own, and they drag you out of trouble and then right back into it."
Gin sighed, then reluctantly started moving back towards where he had exited the bushes. "She's back this way."
Silently, Uryuu followed Gin, as the boy led him back through the trees and into another small clearly. A girl was curled up under a tree, clearly exhausted by whatever had happened to her, though her eyes were open and warily watching them approach. Or, Uryuu decided, warily watching him approach. She seemed overjoyed to see Gin.
(*That's Rangiku!*) Ichigo exclaimed when he finally got a good look at her face. (*I guess she was a good friend, since she joined the Shinigami after he did.*)
Uryuu stopped a few feet away from the two kids, watching as they reunited. Gin and Rangiku, two powerful Shinigami in the future, one loyal and one not — or, perhaps, one loyal only to the other? He tamped down on his desire to fidget, the truth of what he had just done finally hitting him full in the face.
Aizen was dead. Gin had fixated on him instead of on becoming a Shinigami, and if Gin didn't leave, would Rangiku leave either?
(*That's not even considering what else Aizen would do in the next hundred years,*) Ichigo added. (*If he's not around, I don't think the Visored will come into existence, or Urahara and Yoruichi being exiled with them. Uryuu… what did we just do?*)
(*What we had to,*) Uryuu stated firmly, as he gathered up his courage with both hands. (*We saw a problem and we fixed it. Now let the future fall as it will.*)
He took the last few steps to Gin and Rangiku, his movements drawing their attention away from their whispered conversation and to him. "We need to leave. Unless the two of you want to be caught in my presence by Shinigami out for blood?"
Rangiku shook her head frantically, and tried to rise, only to fall back to the ground when her legs gave out from under her. Uryuu frowned, looked between the two children, and sighed again.
"Brat, get on my back," Uryuu ordered Gin as he knelt next to Rangiku and scooped her up into his arms. Thin arms came to wrap around his neck, and thin legs clamped tight to his waist. Uryuu was honestly surprised that Gin had complied without a fuss, and even more surprised by how light the boy was. It was no trouble to rise to his feet, even with Gin clinging like a limpet and Rangiku held in his arms. "Definitely need to get some food into both of you."
Rangiku made a surprised noise at his absent words, staring up at him with shock and gripping the front of his uniform tightly with one hand. "You… you'll feed us?"
Uryuu eyed her warily, unsure why his words had gotten that reaction, then hesitantly nodded. He hadn't wanted to get involved with these two, had actually been planning to just move the two somewhere new before slipping off while they slept, but that hesitantly hopeful question cut more deeply than he had expected it to. "You're clearly starving, and I doubt the brat should be this light either."
She squealed softly, her arms coming up to coil around his neck in a hug that was spared being choking only thanks to Gin's arms and her current lack of strength.
Before it could get more awkward, Uryuu took off running, refraining from use of hirenkyaku just in case someone came who could sense its use. He was plenty fast enough with just enhancing his muscles anyway, so long as he wasn't in battle.
(*What am I supposed to do with them?!*) Uryuu asked Ichigo as he raced through the forest, no destination in mind other than 'away from Seireitei'. (*I don't know how to take care of kids, and I don't think they'll leave me alone now that I said I'd feed them! And how am I supposed to do that? We don't even know if we can feed ourselves out here!*)
(*There's animals out here, Koneko,*) Shiro chided, his voice amused. (*Jes go huntin' an' foragin' an' ya'll be fine.*)
(*I don't think they'll let you 'take care of them' like my sisters did,*) Ichigo added after a moment's thought. (*They've been on their own all this time anyway, so just… protect them. Train them. Teach them to hunt on their own. They'll probably go their own way after a while anyway.*)
Uryuu grimaced. (*That's really all I can hope for, isn't it? And that Gin doesn't turn into a traitor worse than Aizen.*)
He felt Ichigo considering that statement, and reluctantly agree with it. Aizen had wanted to become a god, to rule over a world of his own creation. Uryuu, by not watching his mouth, had given Gin more than enough motivation to want to utterly destroy Seireitei. Before, Uryuu wouldn't have minded, but now…
Now he reluctantly admitted that there were some Shinigami that were worth it. Who were kind and powerful and truly wished to help the world and keep balance the only way they knew how. And Gin was a careful sort, a genius in his own right. The idea that he could bring the Seireitei down from the inside wasn't quite as far-fetched as Uryuu would like to believe.
He'd killed Aizen so that his future self would never had to face the pain of fighting in a war and losing his best friend. But in doing so… had he written another war that would engulf all three worlds?
Aaaand cut! I'm not sure where, or if, this will go anywhere. I've basically grabbed canon by the short and curlies and gleefully hurled it aside. Aizen's death gets a grand total of like, three paragraphs. Gin gets more screen time than Aizen does! And it basically leaves me with Uryuu in the distant past, trying to take care of two strays that he accidentally collected (Thanks Ichigo and your special snowflake collection ability!), and... I don't know what comes next? If people have ideas or paths they'd like to see, please tell me!
Also, happy belated birthday, Tremor230! This is for you, without whom none of this would have happened. Best long distance not-genetic sibling a person could have.