"What's happening? What is that thing?"

Hordes of bodies swelled around them, pushing forward relentlessly. They had no choice—on all sides guards stood waiting to shoot any stragglers. And dead center in the middle of the pack, two men were pressed shoulder to shoulder, clothes torn, blood drying in orange and blue locks.

"A portal."

"To where?"

"Nowhere we wanna go, Kurosaki."

Ichigo met those blue eyes. Ten months ago, they'd gone at in the desert, nearly killed one another. Then a Vandenreich had attacked them both and they'd been forced to work together to save their own lives. It wasn't long after a similar situation arose, then another, and before they knew it, they were on the same side of a war that had spilled into three different words and threatened to destroy life as they knew it.

Yesterday they'd been shoulder to shoulder in battle once again. And it was together they had finally fallen.

Now they faced their fate—the same one thousands of souls had faced since the near unquestionable victory of the Vandenreich.

"What's going to happen to us, Grimmjow?"

"Same thing as the rest of your damn soul reaper army, and the human one I suppose." Grimmjow glanced around, seeing the mix of souls, many among them humans, just a few of them soul reapers—all of them resistors.

"Prison camp?"

"Yep."

"But you and me…I thought they would have just killed us."

"Their first directive would simply be containment. Then they'll sift through their prisoners to see who might have some value. After that's done, the executions will start."

Ichigo eyed him. Grimmjow had a mind for war. He understood the chilling thought processes of their captors all too well.

They were near the black gap in space now. All the prisoners around them were starting to slow—one last act of resistance before going through.

"We should fight," Ichigo urged.

"They broke your damn sword in two, kid. Not to mention my fuckin' arm."

"We can still fight."

"We'll die."

"Are you giving up?"

"Fuck no. I was just stating the facts. Let's do this."

"On three then. One, two—"

A current of energy shot through them. All those around them staggered as well but it seemed to target Ichigo and Grimmjow. Ichigo felt his legs go numb. He fell but Grimmjow caught his arm, hauling him back up before he was trampled. A few others also fell—all of them wearing uniforms.

"Dammit they neutralized our fucking power," Grimmjow grunted, never letting Ichigo go. The gate was just before them now. Ichigo looked to his companion.

"Shit, what are we gonna do?"

Grimmjow looked between the fast approaching gate, at the guards far to their left and right—masses of people between them. Ichigo saw the defeat register in his features.

"No…"

"Kurosaki, it's gonna be every man for himself in there."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying don't you fuckin' let go of me."

He tugged him closer. Ichigo gripped his arm back tight. The black maw of the portal was just before them. The constant push of prisoners at their back forced them forward.

They went through.


Ichigo sputtered back to consciousness on rough, hard ground. He felt the dry dirt clinging to his face as he pushed himself up. The sensations further down his body were slow to register, and his eyes were fogged when he finally lifted them to his surroundings.

As his eyes began to focus, the enclosure around him began to grow clear. He at first saw the high tower at the corner of a wall. Shifting, he traced the length of the wall seeing guards and a tower at the next corner as well. They looked to be made of stone and twisting, sharp wire ran along the top of them.

And between these walls were bodies—hundreds of tired, scared, frail looking men, stuffed together like sardines. He suddenly realized he was probably in peril, laying on the ground and all, but then he noticed the figure crouched next to him.

"Grimmjow."

Blue eyes shifted away from the others milling about them and took him in. "Good, you're conscious."

"Yeah." Ichigo sat up, stiffly. He just now began to feel the sharp pain under his ribs, through his shoulders and back. "Shit."

"You passed out as soon as we came through—without your spiritual pressure your wounds from the battle are wearing on you."

"Damn," he said again, but noticed there were several others prostrate around them. Some looked to be resting, others weren't moving at all and there was a heavy odour in the air around them. Those who were injured must have gathered or been forced over this way.

"Here." Grimmjow passed him something that had been clenched in one hand. "Eat this quickly."

It was rock hard, but Ichigo put the lump of crusty bread in his mouth.

"Where'd you get it?" he asked.

"They gave out rations a few hours ago."

"Hours? How long was I out?"

"A day."

"What?!"

Grimmjow just shrugged. His eyes never left those around them. Ichigo wondered if he was worried about the other prisoners, or the armed guards near the wall.

"So can you catch me up?"

Grimmjow had been crouching, as if at the ready to stand and fight on a second's notice, but he seemed to decide they were safe enough for the moment and settled back, sitting next to Ichigo, though his attention was never fully pulled away from the crowd.

"This is what I've gathered: we're waiting to be sorted. We're the freshest batch of prisoners but by the looks of some of these poor bastards, some of them have been here for a while. We probably will too. They took about thirty today—made 'em line up for hours and then sent them packing out those gates—probably to somewhere more permanent."

Ichigo had noticed there were no buildings or facilities here, which undoubtedly added to the rank stench in the air.

"Since we got here, they've only fed us once, and not everybody got to eat at that. There's water commin' from a pipe over there so we at least won't die of dehydration."

"At least," Ichigo breathed, the reality of their situation settling heavily on his shoulders. He kept his head, however, and pushed Grimmjow to continue, knowing their preparedness might be the key to their survival.

"The guards aren't Vandenreich."

Ichigo couldn't help his surprise. His eyes darted back to the guards he had spotted. They were wearing white uniforms, basic, but still in the style of the Vandenreich. In their hands, however, were machine guns and automatics. That was definitely out of character for the bow-and-arrow wielding quincies.

"Who are they then?"

"Humans, s'far as I can tell. The ones who didn't resist, I guess."

"Shit." Ichigo watched a man walk along the ramparts with his weapon at the ready. Was he just imagining it or was there a faint smile on his face? "Traitors," he commented. He had felt this anger for a long time now, ever since the war spilled over onto Earth and hundreds of humans had chosen to join the Vandenreich rather than fight them.

"Survivalists," Grimmjow corrected. Not having anyone left to betray him, he didn't understand Ichigo's fury at the members of his own race.

"So I take it there is no spiritual pressure here."

"None. Whatever they zapped us with got us good and this place is shit out of energy."

"And where are we?"

"Damned if I know. Not in Hueco Mundo anymore, but I don't know if this is some sub-dimension or just some barren-ass wasteland on Earth."

Ichigo cast his eyes upward. It was daylight and there was no roof above them so all he could see was clouded sky. He tried to determine if the sky looked earthly or not. The ground certainly did, yet, some deeper sense in him told him they were not in his homeworld.

"I don't think this is the world of the living."

"Yeah, figures they'd cook up some new shit hole for us to live in."

"So what do we do, Grimmjow?"

Blue eyes turned his way, taking him in completely for the first time since he woke up. "We need to stick together, Kurosaki. We're injured and as much as it pains me to say it, we're fuckin' weak right now. Those fucks could end us with a bullet or these assholes in here with us could kill us over a hunk of bread. We need two eyes open all the time, got that? That means only one of us sleeps at a time and we don't let anyone split us up."

"Okay," Ichigo said it calmly, not giving away his relief to know Grimmjow was going to remain his ally even though circumstances had changed. Even if it was only a survival strategy, Grimmjow needed him as much as Ichigo needed him back.

"Second thing is we got to blend in. Your uniform sticks out too much, as does mine. I've already picked out some clothes, but we'll have to wait until night.

"Wait, where will we get new clothes?"

Grimmjow's eyes cut to the side. Ichigo followed them to the motionless forms that littered the ground all around them.

"Grimmjow—"

"Shut it. This is survival kid, don't get squeamish on me. You can't be Ichigo Kurosaki anymore: no noble shit, no sticking your nose into other people's business and no name. If they're registering people, that means they're keeping track. I don't have the luxury of pretending I ain't the sixth espada."

The tattoo on his back was a dead giveaway, but even if they tried removing that, the fact he was a hollow was unmistakeable.

"Well that's no good. What if they take you somewhere else because you're notorious?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "I can't do much about that, unless we manage to escape this place before our number's up."

"That would be the best scenario," Ichigo admitted. "Much chance of that happening, you think?"

He caught the look in Grimmjow's eye. He'd been surveying the camp for an entire day and Ichigo was sure he had taken in every detail. If there was a way, he probably would have seen it by now. He didn't say this though, he just commented that they'd have to be smart about whatever they did.

"Can you stand?" Grimmjow asked after silence fell between them. "You should get some water."

"Yeah, I'll try." It was hard. Ichigo struggled up and then felt one knee threaten to give, but he made it. This wasn't good—he needed to be strong here, but he was in rough shape. Grimmjow stood next to him, his right arm close to his body. Ichigo only now remembered he'd broken it in battle.

"Oh shit, your arm…" Ichigo would probably get better in a few days, but a broken bone could be crippling in this situation. "If we can find some materials, I'll bind it for you."

"Tonight," Grimmjow said. "When it's dark we'll get what we need."

Night came quickly. Ichigo had managed to get some lukewarm, brown water down his throat, though they'd had to stand in line for over an hour and there was much jostling and shoving around the source of water. He'd watched Grimmjow go rigid and knew it was nothing to do with the pain in his arm—it wasn't in his nature to take shit from anyone and the teen could tell he wanted to brawl right then and there and kick some teeth in—but he didn't, because like he'd explained, blending in was their best shot.

After dark, a few lights came on above them but the yard of bodies was in near total darkness. Ichigo couldn't see more than four feet in front of him but Grimmjow knew just where to go. Ichigo wondered if his night vision was still improved—even without his power. He assumed it was since it was more biological than spiritual. That at least, could be a powerful advantage for them.

It was Grimmjow who stripped the bodies, even though he could only use one arm. Ichigo kept watch as best he could in the dark, making sure no one cared or noticed what they were doing. He was glad for the darkness when it came to changing, but he felt very uneasy about parting with his uniform, especially having it on a dead man's body. He knew that when his powers were restored, it would regenerate, but here in this place, it meant giving up his identity. Even though that was exactly the point of their actions, he was uneasy about it. And he definitely felt sick about wearing a dead man's clothes.

Grimmjow slept through the night. It was only fair as Ichigo had been asleep for a day, though he was exhausted by dawn.

Ichigo felt along the break in Grimmjow's forearm. It wasn't out of place which was a blessing, and would help it heal smoothly assuming it didn't suffer any more damage. Ichigo used a shirt to make Grimmjow a sling but there wasn't anything to be used as a splint. Grimmjow was hesitant to advertise his weakness but Ichigo assured him it was the only way to keep it protected and therefore help it heal faster. Besides, he wasn't the only one with makeshift bandages holding him together.

When this was finished, Ichigo had his first chance to take in his new clothes in daylight. They didn't smell great and they were dirty, but so was everyone's clothes. He wore green cargo pants, a black shirt and a light coat. One pocket weighed heavily and he drew out the wallet. It was heavy with coins that would be useless now, but he flipped through the plastic cards until he got to the id.

"He was the same age as me." Ichigo read the card with great sadness. "Eighteen." Another card showed him he'd been a student at one of their rival high schools—one that was closely matched with them in sports and always drew a boisterous crowd.

"Satoru Yoshida. Same height as me too…you have a good eye." Grimmjow had picked out the bodies he thought would best fit them. Now he glanced down at the photo on the card.

"Is that him?"

"Yeah, it's his id card."

"Do all humans have those?"

"Yeah."

"Damn, that's how they're going to keep track of you. Too bad you don't look a thing like that guy."

"Mmm." Ichigo was listening but he couldn't help stare at the photo of the young man whose clothes he now wore. Seventeen. Human. All he'd done was resist them, and now he was dead. He must have suffered a blow to the head, since there was no blood on his clothes. He'd died slowly too, as Grimmjow had watched him and others pass away around them during the day he'd watched over Ichigo.

"Get rid of that." Grimmjow snatched the card and tossed it in the crowd. "Maybe they won't question it if there's no picture."

"Maybe…" Ichigo familiarized himself with the contents of the wallet. A movie stub from half a year ago, when the world was still normal. A photo of a young girl with braids and braces. A sister, perhaps. Then another, ink on the back telling of a relationship. But her boyfriend would never be coming home.

Ichigo pocketed the wallet. Anything of use to fight had been removed from the boy on his way in, but there was still a cracked ipod in his pocket. It wouldn't turn on. Ichigo tossed this as well.

"How about you, anything in your pockets?" Ichigo asked Grimmjow. The espada wore blue jeans (which he clearly was not finding comfortable by the way he kept shifting around) a dirt streaked white t-shirt and canvas jacket. The owner of his clothes had obviously been injured in the arm since there was a slash through one sleeve. It worked out well that it was the same sleeve that hung empty on account of Grimmjow's broken arm.

"Smokes but no light."

"No id?"

"No, but this is kind of a giveaway." He pointed to his face. Having the civilian clothing would help him blend in and remain anonymous in the crowd or from a distance, but as soon as anyone looked him straight on they would know he wasn't human.

They moved away from the bodies. It was the calmest part of the yard but the scent was getting worse and eventually they would get sick being too close to them. This, however, meant they had to remain in the rest of the yard that was tightly packed. Sitting was nearly impossible unless you managed to get a place along the wall which was of course the most popular spot.

They went the whole day without food and Ichigo felt sick for hunger when they found spot to sit down for the night. Some people did manage to lay down, but it was physically impossible for everyone to do so at the same time. Still, they did all manage to sit, and the yard became eerily still when darkness finally took over. There was of course, still lots of noise, from those talking, or cursing or coughing. There was a fight somewhere but it ended quickly with a terrible scream. No one moved or spoke much after that. Grimmjow and Ichigo sat back to back. There was nowhere else for them to lean but on each other. Someone had stretched out at Ichigo's feet, and others were also propped up, sitting hunched but by themselves. Ichigo wondered how many people were here alone—who didn't know anyone or their friends had died. He shivered at the thought and clutched the weight in his pocket.

I'm sorry you died, Satoru Yoshida. Thank you for your clothes. Be at peace.

Ichigo opened his eyes from his silent prayer but it was difficult, he was losing himself to sleep.

"Go ahead," Grimmjow said at his back. "I'll wake you in a few hours."

"Okay."

It was the most uncomfortable sleep of his life—so far. He was sure he was in for many others if they didn't get out of here soon. Not only was his body still stiff and sore and their sleeping arrangement painfully uncomfortable, but his stomach pained him. His body was trying to heal and all it had gotten for fuel in three days was that one lump of bread. Everyone was feeling that same pain. They were angry and restless but those guns ever trained on them kept them from trying anything desperate.

It was infuriating that just so few could control so many by the simple fact they had guns.

At noon, food came. It was chaos. Ichigo stood and watched people turn violent, pulling and pushing one another, desperate to get whatever was being given. He had no desire to debase himself for food, despite the pain in his stomach. He watched grown men turn into animals and screams erupted. Fists flew and when people went down, that was it, they were trampled.

"What do we do?" Ichigo asked Grimmjow who had somehow secured them food the first day.

"Just wait."

Ichigo did. He watched a large man wrestle his way out of the crowd, clutching something to his chest. He'd managed to come away with not just one piece of bread but a whole loaf. Ichigo stared at the plastic bag and label and realized it was store-bought. It should seem insane but instead it was devastating. Not only had the war caused damage to their world, but now the Vandenreich were learning to control factories, use production to their advantage, for example, feed their hordes of prisoners.

"Oh god…" Ichigo felt sick but then Grimmjow pushed him aside and the next thing the large man was on the ground, spitting teeth. Grimmjwo didn't give him a second before a boot was in his gut.

"Grimmjow stop!" But the espada was done. He pried the loaf from the man and tore it open with one hand. He was smart enough not to take it all like this man had—others were just as ready to swarm him for it but he tossed more than half away before he could be attacked.

"Quick." Grimmjow shoved two slices into Ichigo's hand. He himself managed to get his two slices down in mere seconds. "EAT IT!"

Ichigo did. He felt a swell of guilt consuming the second slice when others wouldn't get it, but all around him was blood thirsty chaos. He couldn't even offer it to someone without risking being swarmed. So he ate it all, just as fast as Grimmjow, and his stomach burned with the sudden introduction of food. He felt his gut clench and cramp up.

"Water," Grimmjow instructed. It was the best time to go as everyone was attacking the food. They drank as much as they could from the filthy pipe then snagged a spot along the wall while it was bare. They stayed there all day just so they could keep it for the night. They slept on and off all afternoon, having nothing better to do. That evening more were rounded up, made to stand in line at gunpoint and then ushered beyond the gate just before dusk. Ichigo and Grimmjow watched the whole process carefully, hoping to see an exit strategy, but the guards carried out their routines flawlessly. These men had been trained by the Vandenriech and they were just as cold and efficient as them.

This carried on for the next ten days. Hunger became a constant, they were only fed every other day. Grimmjow continued to get them more than their share of food, however, and Ichigo ate it just as guiltily every time. In the calm, he would look over gaunt faces. He would see the bodies of those who were trampled and those who had fought each other. Each morning a few more people didn't wake. If they'd been here for a long time, many probably succumbed to sickness or hunger. Ichigo was sure he wouldn't be doing as well without Grimmjow. He wouldn't have been able to get the food for sure.

They learned to block out a lot of uncomfortable things—like passing their bowels near dead bodies and with a yard of hundreds of men before them. The stench of the place became so constant they almost forgot about it. The water even stopped tasting as foul. Ichigo got accustomed to feeling someone else's breath on his neck at night when they crammed together to sit or lay if they were lucky. Sometimes at night he would hear grunts and groans and he knew what the sounds meant, he just wasn't sure if it was consensual or not.

It was on the morning after that tenth night they burned the bodies. The air became thick with ash and smoke. Ichigo couldn't believe the guards did it there, in the yard, right next to them. But they did. The prisoners all backed up, forming a tight mob against the opposite side of the wall. That was almost the worst part of it, because they were so jammed together. But it wasn't the worst. The worst was the screams. Not just one, but three or four—some of the bodies hadn't been quite dead yet when they began to burn them.

Ichigo shut his eyes then. He pictured Satoru Yoshida, bloated beyond recognition, and now cooking and blackening. His hair singing and frying. His organs melting. Ichigo's uniform burning up where it was forced on his body.

And those poor souls who hadn't quite left this world in there too.

He felt a hand clench around his arm. Grimmjow had been holding onto him since the crowd had moved back, afraid they would get separated, and now that steel grip tightened ever so slightly.

Even the heartless espada wasn't immune to the gruesome scene.

When the ash settled, and only bones were left, they ordered the prisoners to clean. Whoever was unlucky enough to be at the front of the crowd was forced to sweep away what was left and clear the scorched ground. It took all day. Ichigo and Grimmjow were lucky enough not to have to do it. They remained standing, however, for the better part of eight hours as there was nowhere else for them to go until the job was done. Then they spread out. Reluctantly, people spread into the cleared area of the sick and dead. Many others had left in the last few days as well, so for the first time, everyone was able to lay down at night.

But not everyone did. Ichigo wasn't sure if it was the fire or what, but Grimmjow stayed awake that entire night.


Hope you enjoyed this first chapter. This isn't supposed to be a torture/suffering-driven story, but one about the camaraderie of fellow soldiers in trying times, not just Grimmjow and Ichigo but the other people they will meet. A bit of a different tone than my other stories, but just as dark and violent I assure you ;) Please "follow" if you are interested,

thanks,

Riza.