The Sins of a Lost Prince

by Ashesofthefirststar

After a sudden attack, the Kuchiki heir, Byakuya, was lost and deemed dead. Years later, the Kuchiki clan is being lead by Byakuya's wicked older brother, and in an attempt to stop him, Shiba Ichigo searches for the rightful heir. What he finds is an erotic dancer with no memory and a sinister plan that could change everything.

1. Chapter 1

A/N: I've had this plot idea in my head, and it wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down. Btw, this story is loosely inspired by the movie Anastasia. It's also cannon divergent. I know I still have a bunch of unfinished stories. Don't worry, those still have priority. Like all my stories, how well this is received will determine how often I work on it. So if you like this and want more, please comment!

What's divergent about this fic.

For those who don't know, Canon Divergent means: a term used in some fandoms for fan fiction in a universe that diverges relatively narrowly from canon, with a point of departure in a character's backstory. A good part of this story is the same. Ichigo still got his powers from Rukia. He still went to S.S to save her. He still fought against the Quincy's. Heres whats not the same: Byakuya has an older half brother, and while Rukia is still his adoptive sister, she's actually older than him. Hisana may be a thing at the end of this story, I'm still not sure. It wasn't Byakuya who Ichigo fought with for Rukia's survival, but the older half brother - who consequentially, is a total bag of dicks in this story. Ichigo isn't able to go back home after the Quincy war, and stays in S.S, eventually becoming the head of the Shiba clan. While I do believe different experiences shape you into different people, I try to keep the characterization pretty solid. Even in the scene where Ichigo's a kid, I characterize him in the way he was depicted before his mothers death; sweet as shit, innocent, and all that cute stuff.

How aging works in this story.

So the way souls age in Bleach is dubious at best. But from reading and watching the whole series, It's been shown a few times that the younger you are, the quicker you age. Likewise, the more spiritual pressure you have and if you're born a soul rather than dying and coming to S.S, the quicker you age, and eventually, you plateau. At least, this is how I see it. So, when Byakuya and Ichigo first meet, their both physically and mentally the same age (8-10) while Byakuya's biologically about 50 years old. So years later, after Ichigo comes to the S.S at 17, because he's both older and was not born a soul, over the course of the fifty years he lives there, he ages barely at all. Like imagine a 20 year old Ichigo. However, over that same 50 plus years, since Byakuya was still so young and born into the highest of noble clans, he also ages to be (physically and mentally) about the same age as Ichigo. I know it might seem like I'm pulling this out of my ass, but this is genuinely how I think it works.

Disclaimer.

This story will have some lovely lemon in it. Possibly, it may have non graphic non-con later down the line.

Terms to know.

*It's important to note that in Japanese, they don't use plurals like we do in english. So you'll never see 'S' 'ED' 'ING' on the end of a Japanese word, even if it doesn't sound right without it.

Konsō: The way souls pass over

Pulses: Souls awaiting reaping

Ningen: A human

Chichi/Otõsama: Pain dad/ Formal dad

Haha/Okasama: Plain mom/ Formal mom

Ojiisama: Granddad

Gaki: A young brat

Reaitsu: Spiritual pressure

A Faithful Encounter

xXx

Prequel

"Makoto-san! You said we'd get to fight a hollow today!"

Makoto sighed in exasperation as he strolled through an empty baseball field. He could hear the trotting of short legs and an even shorter temper following behind him.

"No. I said we might be able to encounter a hollow, and that, if we do, you may watch." He shook his head in ridicule. "Where do you get that selective hearing from, Byakuya-kun?

Before Makoto could take another step, Byakuya flashed in front of him. He stood only just above four feet tall, but with all the confidence of a grown man.

"I hear fine. I just choose to ignore what you say," Byakuya said, his chest bolstered and his finger pointed in accusation.

Makoto placed his hands on his hips and gave the young boy a glare of parental distaste. His jade eyes were shadowed by locks of chestnut hair, and he blew the obtrusive stands out of the way, making sure the Byakuya got the full effect of his disapproval. "And what would Kuchiki Taichou say if he heard you speaking to a superior like that, Bya-kun?"

A blush kissed the crest of Byakuya's porcelain cheeks as he fisted his tiny, shaking hands by his side. "Do not call me that, Makoto-san! I have awoken my shikai younger and quicker than anyone in my clan's history, and I will be given the tutelage I deserve!"

Their eyes locked for a moment before Makoto let out a bellowing laugh. As he passed by Byakuya, he ruffled his raven mane. "You're so adorable, Bya-kun."

"I am formidable!" he challenged, taking his anger out on the earth with every loaded step he took.

"Yeah, yeah, well listen, we need to head back soon, and there's one more konsō I have to perform. You can watch as I do it."

Byakuya scoffed under his breath. "I am sure I will learn something that I did not from the other seven you have done today."

As they shunpo throughout the dimming city streets, Makoto wondered how such a young kid was already such a smart ass. The only thing more tenacious than the potentiality of his powers was the sharpness of his tongue.

Soon they arrived at a field near a local grade school. The whole area was relatively abandoned, and at the way billowing storm clouds moved across the sky like a fleet of ships, Byakuya understood why.

A little girl sat on a merry go round by herself. She kicked pebbles with absent minded interest, looking up to sky as if it was the only friend she ever had.

"Let me do this one, Makoto-san," Byakuya said, lifting himself on his tiptoes in hopes to appear bigger. It was taking all of his pride not to grovel, and personally, he thought he was doing rather well.

"You know the rules. You're not in a division yet, and you won't be for quite a while." When Byakuya pursed his lips to conceal a pout that so badly wanted to be given life, Makoto gave him a rare look of reprove. "You knew this from the start, Byakuya-kun. Kuchiki Taichou only let you come today because you've been pestering him about it nonstop. Now, stay right here. I'll be back soon."

Byakuya watched as Makoto walked away. He stomped up dirt and muttered lowly, all while he considered unsheathing Senbonzakura and slashing him around in frustration. It was the words of his grandfather - an extensive lecture on the importance of proper behavior - that idled his sword hand.

So what if he continuously asked his grandfather for more lessons? What was so wrong with being an eager pupil? It unnerved him, the way everyone told him he was the best, yet wouldn't let him rise to those standards. Why halt his advancement when he was already well beyond some of the Shinigami in training who were allowed to purge hollows? It was senseless, an absolute waste. All Byakuya wanted was to feel worthy, to accomplish something of significance that could quell the weight these high standards put on him. All he wanted was to prove he could handle his title as heir to the Kuchiki legacy.

Like the ringing of church bells, a buzzing shot right through his ears and vibrated in his gut. It was a feeling he recalled well, even if it was so scarcely experienced. He looked to Makoto, and when he saw the elder man was still communicating with the pulse, Byakuya acted decisively and shunpo away.

It wasn't even a choice, but an instinct that promised greatness. Whatever laid ahead, be it good, bad, or just plain deadly, it would be a cornerstone in Byakuya's life.

Back at the baseball field, Byakuya appeared through a clearing in the woods just as it began to rain. Everything was still and even the birds had stopped chirping. The only thing he could hear was Senbonzakura's hum of anticipation. He was singing for Byakuya. He could feel it, that draw, the force of attraction that was destiny. With his sword, he'd cut out a place for himself in this world.

A ghoulish hollow standing as tall as the tree line stepped out into view with a deafening roar. Byakuya drew his sword and stood his ground, unwilling to let himself be intimidated. Rain drops rickshaw off his blade, making it glisten with importance.

He grabbed onto the hilt of his sword with two hands and looked defiantly in the direction of the masked beast. "Senbonzakura, I know I have just learned how to release you, so please, guide me. Let's work together."

"Cheir, Senbonzakura." When the command fell from his lips, a barrage of petals burst into flight. It was not them that blew in the wind, but the wind that blew in them.

Byakuya used his hands to direct their assault, cutting and slicing the hollow all over, but none of the attacks seemed to deal any significant damage. If anything, they only angered the beast.

It charged towards Byakuya, and the young boy darted away, using his hits to narrow down his options.

He landed on the thick of a nearby tree branch and studied the hollow. "I have hit everywhere but… That is it!'

Only, when he commanded his blades, they would not reach. Because of his inexperience and the novelty of using his shikai, his attack radius was diminishing rapidly. With a new strategy in mind, Byakuya sealed his sword and leaped from the tree, and with a bout of shunpo, he flung himself towards the head of the hollow.

Much to his surprise, the beast had foreseen his attack and turned quickly to swat him away. Byakuya was sent flying onto the rocky ground, and he felt an unsettling emptiness in his hand. He looked up urgently, trying to push himself from the ground. Everything ached, and he wondered if he had always been so weak. He looked through hazy eyes, the now pounding rain was blurring the edges of where the sky and the ground met. Barely, he could make out his sword on the other side of the field, so Byakuya dug his palms into the muddy dirt, trying to will strength into his legs.

The beast was fast approaching, and Byakuya found himself paralyzed by fear. It hovered over him, its open mouth looking like the entrance to hell, and Byakuya was sure this was it for him.

"Hey! You leave him alone," he heard someone say. It was that squeaky yet equally as resolved voice that brought him back to reality. He looked up to see a mound of orange hair on two legs climbing up the hollows back as if he was simply frolicking up a steep hill. It was so recklessly brave that Byakuya didn't know how he felt about this aberration. This couldn't possibly be a ningen.

The boy grabbed onto the tusk of the hollow, refusing to let go as he was thrown every which way. Byakuya stood up and shunpo to his sword. He flashed into the attack again, using the boy's diversion to his favor. With a swipe of the sword, he delivered the finishing blow, and a ray of blue light exploded around them.

Both Byakuya and the boy went skidding across the ground as the hollow vanished. Wet clay of the earth caked their hair and clogged their senses, but as the turmoil settled and the rain quieted, Byakuya opened his eyes and felt frozen in amber, preserved in those big, worried eyes.

"Are you okay?" the boy asked, leaning over Byakuya.

Byakuya sat up as his spinning head calmed, and he could finally take in this mysterious stranger in all his audacious glory. His face was smudged and dirty, but Byakuya could still make out how his peach toned cheeks were faintly feathered by freckles. His soaked hair was stuck to his face and it took on the most interesting hue of dark orange. Although Byakuya discerned it was most likely much brighter when dry. His eyes were like two swirls of chocolate, reminding him of the sweets he once made with his father. Most certainly, he was a ningen, but not like most. A swell of untapped power encircled him, and Byakuya could feel a great potential in that. Ningen weren't supposed to possess the ability to see Shinigami, but this boy, he was different. Strange indeed.

The boy's eyes went even wider. "Woe… you have a storm in your eyes." He smiled and scooted closer. Byakuya inhaled a tiny, taken breath at the child's radiant expression, all gapped teeth and eyes both equally as soft and intense as the dusky sky. "They're pretty, just like those flowers you were using! What was that anyway? I've never seen anything like that. I do judo, but it's nothing like what you used. You gotta teach me!"

The ceaseless commentary left Byakuya discombobulated. It was all too much too soon, and he couldn't keep up with the other's excitement. "I am the only one who can use Senbonzakura!" Byakuya said as he stood to his feet and preened his uniform haughtily. He noted that they were both equal in height. Only, at the simper his words caused the other boy, an alarming discomfort filled him.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the boy said as he stood up, fingers interlocking like anxious hand holding.

"Ah, what I meant was, he is a special sword that will only respond to me. That is why."

The boy's eyes gleamed like honey, and he wiggled around energetically. "Really? That's so cool."

'What animation this ningen has,' Byakuya thought, looking him up and down like the curious creature he was. 'And bravery.'

Byakuya finally caught sight of a gash on the boy's arm, and he felt the prickling sensation of anger return. "Baka!" he said, grabbing the boy's arm. "Why did you help me? I could've done it on my own."

Ichigo frowned thoughtfully, but then smiled and declared, "Because I'll always help someone in trouble."

"I wasn't in trouble!" he said, a tint of red finding his cheeks. "Besides, now you're hurt."

Twisting his arm, the boy said, "Oh that's nothing! I've gotten worst from climbing trees before."

Byakuya crossed his arms stubbornly, thoroughly determined to sulk. "You don't understand, I am suppose to save you. You're the ningen."

He looked up to the other boy and saw how the comment made him chew his lip and fret his brow in confusion. Finally, he said, "We can protected each other then! That's what friends do, right?"

At that snaggle tooth, kind hearted grin, Byakuya blinked a few times as if he misunderstood. "Friends?"

"Yeah! I mean," Ichigo dipped his head and raked his foot back and forth with a laugh. "If you wanna be."

After tapping his finger against his chin a few times, Byakuya smiled subtly and said, "Alright then." The boy smiled again, this time bigger, and Byakuya liked how when he did, he did so with his whole face. Not just with lips, but with eyes and brows, and even ears. Without warning, Byakuya leaned in, cupped the other's cheeks, and planted a chaste kiss on his lips.

When he pulled away, the young boy's face was red and swollen. It reminded Byakuya of how he looked after the one time he snuck away to explore the Rukongai and came back with a bad case of poison ivy.

"I-I-wh-but." His whole body sputtered, and Byakuya tilted his head curiously.

"Is that not what friends do? I saw Ukitake senpai kiss Kyoraku senpai once, and he told me it was because they were special friends. I'm not sure. I do not have friends."

The other boy twiddled his thumbs compulsively while looking off to the side. "We-well my Chichi and Haha, um, they- they kiss like that, and I don't do that with any of my other friends." Waving his hands back and forth, he urged, "That doesn't mean I didn't like it! It's just new."

Byakuya squinted his eyes and hummed as if giving this serious consideration. "Oh, well my Otō-sama and Oka-sama both died, so I wouldn't know," Byakuya said matter of factly.

"What?" Ichigo said just over a whisper, his face stung with sympathy. "You don't have parents or friends?"

"Well, I have a friend now," Byakuya said with a small smile.

Again, the boy smiled, and it amazed Byakuya how every time he did so in his direction, it felt like, in comparison, no one had truly been happy to see him in his life. "Yeah you do!" he exclaimed. "What's your name?"

"Kuchiki Byakuya, and yours?"

"I'm Kurosaki Ichigo," Ichigo said, thrusting his thumb towards his chest.

"I like that name," Byakuya said again before he suddenly turned around and froze in place. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before he turned back with a troubled look. "You must go, Kurosaki Ichigo. Makoto-san must not find you here, or else he'll erase your memory."

"Erase my memory?!

"You must realize, Kurosaki Ichigo, I am not a ningen like you. I'm not supposed to talk to ningen actually. " He declined his head with a crestfallen sigh. "I hope this is not a problem."

"Why would it be a problem?" Ichigo asked, making Byakuya lift his smokey, startled eyes. "You're my friend no matter what."

"Thank you, but you must leave now, or else you won't remember me."

"Gotcha!" Ichigo said before he sheepishly took Byakuya's hand in his and quickly moved to peck his lips. "And just call me Ichigo!"

As Ichigo ran into the woods, Byakuya felt a gooey sensation in his chest that slowly melted into a frown. He turned around to see Makoto looming over him with his arms crossed and his foot tapping. His face was a scathing red.

Byakuya bowed. "Please forgive me, Makoto-san. I only wanted to make you and Ojii-sama proud."

Makoto held out for a moment longer before he deflated and pulled Byakuya in for a hug. "I was was worried about you, gaki!"

Byakuya looked up with a small smile. "But I defeated it, Makoto-san!"

"You were lucky, Bya-kun," he said as he released the boy. "I will have to tell Kuchiki Taichou about this."

"I'm willing to accept any punishment."

"And you will do so proudly," he said as he removed his sword and summoned a gate.

As they walked through, he looked at the Kuchiki heir, gauging the hidden sadness shining through his blank expression.

"Byakuya-san," Makoto said in a whisper, "you know you will never see that boy again, correct?"

The young boy just barely flinched at the realization that Makoto had seen him fraternizing with a ningen, but kept his head straight ahead, nodding in recognition.

The pair exited in front of the Kuchiki manor, the sky stung by chaotic energy. His head perked and his chin pointed as his eyes glided over the surrounding landscape. Byakuya could sense it, the impending calamity in the air. Something wasn't right.

The sound of galloping shot across the eerie silence, and Byakuya looked up to see his grandfather riding an ebony steed towards them at dangerous speeds. Ginrei pulled on the reigns, making the creature kick up its legs in a sudden halt.

"Kuchiki Taichou," Makoto said, bowing deeply.

"We have no time for such things," Ginrei said, waving the man off with a flick of the wrist.

Soft rain began to patter against Ginrei's somber face as he held the reigns out for Makoto."Take Byakuya away from here now. Fuyumi will lead the way. Trouble is coming. I'll stay here and buy you both some time."

"Ojii-sama, what's going on!?"

"I'd like to know that too," Makoto said. "Let me stay, I can help you."

"No!" Ginrei exclaimed, momentarily losing his long enduring composure. "Listen," he spoke sternly, yet with an urgency highlighting his voice. "Something has happened. I can not explain now, but the people who Fuyumi leads you too will inform you of everything." He paused, a serious intent in those lack of words. "I will die here today. This is not an enemy we can beat now."

"Ojii-sama!" Byakuya cried out, tears falling from his eyes like rain falling from a gray sky. "That's impossible. I won't leave you!"

"None of that," Ginrei said, taking a knee in front of the trembling heir. "Let your sense of duty lead you, not your emotions. You know this is the mark of a great leader."

"But- but… Ojii-sama…"

"Hush now, child. We have no time for this." He placed one open hand in the center of Byakuya's chest and one over his diaphragm. "This was something I did not foresee, but one day, when the time comes, you will return and bring pride back to the Kuchiki family. You will be stronger and smarter than I. Today is not that day, however."

At the slightest twinge in his chest and a blue light shining from within him, Senbonzakura began to disperse into tiny particles until there was nothing left. "Ojii-sama, what are you doing?!"

"I am locking away your powers."

"What?!"

"The ones I am sending you too, they will help you unlock them when the time comes. As for now, Senbonzakura will live inside of you." Once he finished, Ginrei placed both hands on either sides of his grandson's shoulders in a firm yet affectionate grip. "There will be people looking for you, dangerous people, and you've yet learn to control your reiatsu properly. This will keep most of it at bay. I also slightly altered your appearance." With one more squeeze of the shoulder and a tentative glance at the lost and troubled expression of his grandson, Ginrei said, "You will do amazing things, Byakuya. I will always be with you, but now, you must leave." He took off his scarf and wrapped it around Byakuya's neck. "With this and your memories, you'll always have a piece of our history. No one can steal that from you."

There's was so much Byakuya wanted to say, so much he wanted to do, but nothing would come out of him. Once again, he was paralyzed by fear, and he realized he was nowhere near the man his grandfather needed him to be.

"Kuchiki Taichou, are you sure this what you want to do?" Makoto urged, "If I could only get Yamamoto Sotaicho, I am sure he'd be willing to-"

"No," Ginrei said with a sharp shake of the head. "This is not a fight for the Gotei Thirteen, but of my clan. I would be selfish and lacking in pride if I involved them." He bowed to Makoto. "Excuse my Hubris. I hate to ask you this, as this is not your fight either, but please, protect Byakuya with your life, Makoto Fukutaichou."

"Of course," Makoto said, the lines of his face hardening at the sentiments.

Turning his back towards the pair, Ginrei inhaled deeply, his eyes sharpening in preparation. "You both need to leave immediately. They're here."

Without warning, Byakuya was lifted, and he trashed against Makoto in descent. "Nooo," he yelled, seeing the silhouettes of five cloaked covered figures. One flashed their way, but was stopped by a swift blast of Ginrei's kido.

Wide eyed, Byakuya was placed on Fuyumi, Makoto taking a place at his back to shield the boy from any attacks from behind. He draped the scarf over his head, reasoning, "We can not let them see you. Hold onto Fuyumi's scruff, we'll be going fast."

As the two sped away, Byakuya could hear the clashing of metal and feel the vibration of strong kido wrecking the earth. When he noticed his grandfather grew so far away that he could no longer sense him, Byakuya's panicked ramblings returned.

"Makoto-san, we can not just leave him! He will die!"

"That is his decision, Byakuya-kun," Makoto reasoned, his body arched over Byakuya's as he picked up speed. "Sacrifice, that is what it means to be a Kuchiki."

Byakuya pulled harder at the main of ebony, his teeth gritted and eyes wailing. "Well then maybe I don't want to be a Kuchiki!"

"Shut up," Makoto shouted, his resounding voice blending with the crackling of thunder. "Your Ojiisan has sacrificed his life for you and the preservation of your lineage and power. You will respect this, even if you yet to understand it."

His whole body sunk into the hold of Fuyumi, all his limbs tingling with defeat and sadness. He closed his eyes, trying to wish away the feeling of heartbreak, trying to hold on to the memories of his family. His grandfather, his brother and sister, the only ones he had left were gone. There on that speeding stallion, wind whipping around him in tendrils, the smell of his Ojiisama staining the silk that concealed him, Byakuya made a vow, a vow that he'd one day return home to what family was left. Only, when he did, he'd return as the man his clan needed him to be.

"Kuchiki-san," Makoto said, his voice barely tickling at Byakuya's ear. "It is okay to feel sadness. Remember that. As Kuchiki Taichou always said, one must know their own heart, but you must continue forwards vigilantly. You have the blood of great men and women flowing inside you. If you let them guide you, you will not fail."

"Makoto-san," Byakuya asked softly, "Why didn't you call my Byakuya-kun like usual?"

"Simple," he reasoned, "you are no longer a little boy."

Byakuya tried to think of how his grandfather would hold himself, and he emulated it. He nodded his head intently, his posture now rigid and regal. "What is it that I look like?"

"Tilt your head towards me." When he did, Makoto gauged his appear through the obscurity of rain and his silk adornment. Looking back ahead, he said, "Very little difference, actually. Your features are the same in the way of shape and size. The only change is your hair is now a reddish purple, a burgundy of sorts, and you have one emerald colored eye while the other is still gray."

Byakuya twisted a wisp of wet hair that disrupted his vision with curious eyes. "Strange," he said, "Why two different color eyes?"

"My guess is that this is the appearance of the people who will house us. It is not all so odd, mismatched eyes. It's a genetic abnormality that runs in families, a beautiful one at that. We will not know until we get there."

Makoto kept steady ahead, but at the sound of galloping sneaking up from behind, he threw a frantic look over his shoulder to see a cloaked man on horseback rapidly approaching.

"Damn it," he cursed under his breath, shifting his eyes as he tried to think quickly.

"Take the reigns, Kuchiki-san," he ordered.

"What's going on, Makoto-san?" Byakuya asked, though still taking control of Fuyumi.

"Don't worry, okay," he urged as he twisted his body around, now straddling the horse backwards. "If I fall, keep on. Do not stop until you get where you're going."

"But Makoto-sa-"

"Do as I say!"

Byakuya chewed at his lip, but then sighed in resolve. "Right!" he said, grasping tightly to the leather straps and dipping his chest until it was just barely hovering over the heaving form of Fuyumi.

Makoto and the veiled assailant exchanged a flurry of kido blast, both brandishing barriers and shooting waves of power from their hands. Their attacks would rebound off each others, assaulting the landscape as they did so. Still, Byakuya stayed attentive in his navigation, leading Fuyumi around tumbling rocks and jumping over scabrous potholes the size of craters.

Seeing that the man was gaining ground on them quickly, Makoto steeled himself, preparing for drastic action. "Remember what I said, Kuchiki-san, keep going. The faith of your clan depends on it."

As Fuyumi ascended a thinning mountainous trail, Makoto carefully got to his feet. With knees bent and arms spread like wings, he balanced himself while stealing glances at the passing tree branches. He licked his lips nervously, but when he saw a chance, Makoto did not hesitate. Right as the horseman held up a hand, seconds away from knocking Makoto to his death, Makoto jumped for a hanging branch, using his strength to swing up his legs and fling himself at the man. Both went tumbling, and once again, the kido was misdirected, uprooting trees further along the path.

Byakuya told himself not to look back. He urged it, wiping away the tears that stung his eyes and driving forward with even more determination. "Come on, girl, faster," he said, gently applying pressure to Fuyumi's inner thigh, cueing her to pick up the speed.

Makoto let lose a few jagged coughs, his body throbbing in agony as he searched for the horseman with little luck. The upheaved dirt was like a dense fog that suffocated him, but he managed to make it to his feet, cradling his mangled left arm with his right.

'Damn, he thought, 'and it's my sword arm too.'

"You bastard."

At the gruff voice emanating through the dust cloud, Makoto reached for his sword. From the mass emerged the cloaked horseman, his side bloodied and ripped. He moved forward, noticing how the land beneath them was unstable, filled with cracks and grumbling out it's agitation. Below was a raging river, flooded from the storm.

"You can call me names all day, buddy," Makoto said, letting lose a pained chuckle, "but I'm still not letting you pass."

"Arrogant," the man said, drawing his sword. "You truly think you have the means to stop me?"

"Believe it or not, it's a pretty big deal to be the Fukutaichou of Kuchiki Ginrei," he said, tightening both hands around his hilt, "but that's not why I know I'm going to stop you." He smirked, preparing his sword. "I'm going to stop you, because unlike you, I came here ready to die," he declared, punctuating his words with the lift of his blade. He held it above his head, and before the horseman could figure out his motives, Makoto plunged his sword into the tethered ground and pushed in his reiatsu, causing their footing to give way as the ledge they stood upon became an avalanche, propelling both men into the river.

Byakuya had made it past the most perilous part of the mountain, and now his escape rout was a straight path into the the Third District of the West Rukongai. It was still cluttered by debris, but nestled by soft hills opposed to rickety cliff sides.

He knew he promised not to look back. His grandfather wouldn't've looked back, but when he heard the tremors of collapsing earth and the echoes of distance screams, he spared one more glance. "Thank you, Makoto-san," Byakuya whispered to himself. Only, when he turned his eyes back to the path, they had came upon a fallen tree, and everything after that happened so quickly.

Fuyumi tripped over the timber, her large form tumbling forward. Byakuya tried to stay anchored, but he found himself being catapulted off the stallion. He hit the ground roughly, all the breath in his body stolen by the fall. His head hit something hard, a rock, perhaps a tree trunk, it didn't matter, because then he started rolling. He couldn't gather enough leverage nor thought to stop himself or minimize the damage. Instead, everything was dwindling into darkness, and the longer he rolled, the thicker this black haze became.

Finally he stopped, face down in the foothills of a swap with a mouth full of mud he was too disoriented to care about. The scent of iron filled his nostrils, and all around him, the forest began morphing into a nebulous of grainy, unidentifiable shapes.

Adrift, feeling only the brokenness of his bones, Byakuya heard the crunching of leaves, heavy foot falls coming towards him. He looked up, unable to run or scream for help. He was too unhinged to even see the necessity. In front of him, blocking out the sun, was a featureless face. This person, too, was just a blur.

"W..w-who...are… y...you?"

Sweetly, the voice said, "I'm an angel."

That was the last thing Byakuya heard before everything faded away.