The Crack of the Other Side

Alternate universes are weird.

In some, those who you would be sure are completely respectful and self-controlled lads and lasses are actually quite... rape-y...

In others, the kind-hearted are nasty and the nasty are nice and give money to charities for puppies with cancer. There's even one particular mind-f%*$ingly confusing one where Head Captain Kenpachi Unohana had made peace with the Arrancar Lord Arturo Plateado in the year 304 A.D. and there hadn't been any wars between the two societies since. And then there was that one where all the Arrancar were Soul Reapers and all the Soul Reapers were Arrancar. Oh, and there were over five hundred thousand Quincys still living.

Thankfully for any inter-dimensional travelers from the universe we are all familiar with, this particular alternate one is decidedly less different from ours. Some people are kinder or harsher, others who were once calm and passive are loud and aggressive, or vice versa. But there's no gender-bending, no age-swapping, no ancient event that completely rewrote history as we know it. The only thing that comes close is Sosuke Aizen's slight alteration to his Soul Reaper-y-ness...

He isn't one at all here-an Arrancar instead. Former Espada, actually, once a Quinta before he was replaced by Nnoitora Gilga (which turned out to be a set-up... Nnoitora was in on it along with Neliel Tu Oderschvank...). But, obviously, still the same cunning and vile bastard we all love to hate...

Others, however, are changed in more subtle ways. Some for the worse, and others for the better...


#1: Ilfort Resists Illogical Attraction To Murderous Soul Reaper Lady (Poorly)


Even the moon looked frosted. Its bulging presence in the darkened sky sunk farther into a bank of zebrastripe clouds. The night wore on but the friction of time sulking by made no heat. The silver quartz dunes that the night sky orb eventually sank behind were ice sculptures made by wind and old action of spring and fall floods.

Hueco Mundo was asleep, or perhaps frozen to death.

Though it cast a black and frigid shadow, the giant edifice of the Arrancar capital city gave off a somewhat warmer image. Snow marble walls gave pinpricks of yellowed light out myriad windows. The five towers which flanked the main domed square snuggled up to its sides. Six smaller watch towers stood in the center of the height of the dome. Another glow was sourced here. A Soldado Fracción on guard duty no doubt.

Ilfort's Nordic features did nothing to adapt him any better to the current weather. He slumped in his seat against the back-lit wall of the third tower, clasping one knee to his chest and sitting on the other one. He was in no danger of freezing, but he was uncomfortable all the same. He even tried wrapping his flowing golden hair about his neck, but he was no fox. It made a very poor scarf.

The hot chocolate Rebecca had brought him helped, but that was long gone. What remained was a solid droplet of sepia on the bottom of the mug he'd set aside. Only three more hours and he could dive into the heated hall-streets, the warmed rooms, or perhaps a hazy bar on the lower levels with the rest of his Sexta Fracción buddies. If they were still awake.

He blew a sigh which morphed into a cloud that swirled around his head, ringing his horn on his partial mask. The fragment was keeping some of the heat on his head at least. That was one use for the permanent scar of a mask.

Another was to keep his head from rolling against the smooth walls. He propped himself against the horn, pointing himself to the west. No one could say he wasn't watching now. Just three hours until the end of his watch. Then he could spend twice as long in the intoxicating heat indoors. Just three more...

So slow was the progress of his cunning eyelids that he didn't even take note when they captured his orange-amber eyes. His nerves listed in and out of the ability to complain about the cold to his brain. In a doze, Ilfort half-thought that he imagined light footsteps near him.

Someone had put a small hand on his mask remnant. The drowsy Arrancar shuffled, tucking his face down into the crook of the arm holding his leg close. Whoever it was was tiny-so not his Espada or anyone who could report to him. Probably a kid, one of the "orphan" Arrancar who had come out of their existence as Hollows with the bodies and minds of children younger than ten. The "orphans" were kept in an area on the second to top floor and educated until they mentally matured, which took about as long as it would were they alive. But their minds would outrace their bodies, which aged somewhere between one year for every eighty to one for every eight hundred (depending on the Arrancar).

"Get off my head." Ilfort failed at opening an eye to see which of the orphans was groping him. Probably a very young one from the weight of the hand.

And they weren't obedient either. The hand not only stayed, but felt its way over to his horn and grasped it. There was a sharp intake of breath and a small push from the end of the horn.

"It's sharp. So let go of it," the Soldado grumbled. They better not bleed on me, he thought.

"What... Are you..?"

The surprise managed to crack one of his eyes. He caught a blurred image of someone short with dark brown hair spilling onto their shoulders leaning over him. The voice wasn't a child's, it was a woman's. The Arrancar sat up and pawed at his eyes to clear the gunk from them, then sniffed and looked on his visitor with half-opened eyes.

"What am I?" Ilfort blinked and stifled a yawn, "What do you think I...Who are you?"

"I asked first," she said. Ilfort now had a better picture of her. She was very short, barely taller than him standing while he sat in his low chair. Her hair was mostly in her face, and in the dark her eyes were a light color but what hue exactly he couldn't tell. She had no deformities or permanent marks from her Arrancar rebirth that he could see, and she was dressed in a foreign style of black with a white-

Oh.

Ilfort peered down at her waist. Sure enough, there was a zanpakuto hanging there, its sheath a dark purple in color and the handle slightly more curved than was normal for a katana. She noted where his gaze was pointed and stood back with a cold frown.

"Pervert."

"What?" Ilfort snapped back to her scowling face, his own eyes beginning to resemble a wakeful person's. He stood shakily from his seat by the wall and took one staggering step to balance himself. She was dwarfed by him, barely coming up over his...waist.

Try not to think dirty thoughts, he thought. She already thinks you're a creep. Don't think dirty thoughts now and prove her right!

Wait a minute, why am I worried about what a Soul Reaper thinks? They're my enemies! She's probably here to cut some random Arrancar rube's head off anyway...

"Do you know where you are, girl?" he chuckled. She took another step back, as if calculating his next move, and calculating them all as "he's definitely going to suddenly lunge at me", "Las Noches. Arrancar Central. Kind of like Central 46, but with fewer successful break-ins."

"That's not funny," the woman growled. Her delicate, tiny hand brushed against the hilt of her sword.

"I know it's not. Our traitor did it." Ilfort frowned as well, "As well as about a dozen of our historical badasses."

"I'm not here to talk about history," she interrupted, her blade escaping from the confining scabbard with a shimmer of metal. "I came here for one purpose and one purpose only. I am a Soul Reaper, I purify Hollows." She held her sword our and pointed it at Ilfort's chest, "With this, Yukihyo."

Now it was Ilfort's turn to step back, but he hit the wall at an awkward angle and had to save himself by grabbing onto the arm of his vacant chair. When he looked up again a blade was flying at his face.

The now curved blade of Yukihyo buried itself in the stone the tower was constructed of. Ilfort buzzed back into view some meters further along the walkway, a startled look across his face. He had not expected her to flat out assault him, especially before he was ready.

The woman turned, a wave of her hand calling the autonomous weapon back to her. It now had a sleek black haft, and a slight dark violet glow about it. It was like a scythe had had it's blade removed and had it repositioned like a spear's head on the end. Her hair fluttered in the wind kicked up by the awesome weapon flying back to her.

She looks amazing...

Again the crooked edge came flying straight for him. Just as unprepared as before, Ilfort had to dive to the floor to avoid it striking him in the throat. He felt the slight tug of one hair being severed.

That's pretty amazing too...

Wait, wait, wait, wait! Brother-she's trying to kill you! Wake up!

The Soul Reaper gave a grim smile as she leaped and landed over top of Ilfort's prone form. Now he had nowhere to go. She called her zanpakuto back to her once again.

Ilfort rolled onto his back, eyes wide as the weapon sought out its master's hand again. The Arrancar could not help but be paralyzed by the awkwardness here.

She's...straddling me...

"Umm..." Ilfort tried to sit up slightly, wriggling in an attempt to get free. The woman stopped him by lowering the Shikai to his throat. He continued staring up at her oddly, "Wait a second..! I'm not a Hollow!"

The woman's final strike faltered as she pulled her zanpakuto back right before it sliced into her prisoner.

"What?"

"I said, I'm not a Hollow," he repeated, putting his hands up to push the point of her blade away. "I'm an Arrancar, not a Hollow."

"...What's an Arrancar?" She was bowled over by the new information. "I was sent here to purify any Hollows on this landmark. If you're not a Hollow, then where are the Hollows that're supposed to be here?"

"There's no Hollows..." Ilfort grunted, wriggling more to get out from under the Soul Reaper, "There's only Arrancar. Can't you sense anything different?"

The girl paused, staring upwards into space for a few seconds. Ilfort let her, without taking advantage of her distraction. He wasn't sure why not. He was busy staring as well, but at the girl herself.

"Nice try," the Soul Reaper said darkly, glaring down at him as if cheated. "You have all the same stench as any other Hollow I've faced. The only difference is that I can see your ugly face."

Ugly? Me? Man, I thought I was okay looking. Does she really think I'm ugly? Ilfort shrunk back against the floor, away from the woman's zanpakuto that was back tickling his neck. Wait, hold on, more important-She can't tell the difference between Hollows and Arrancar... Oh, scheisse!

The Soul Reaper held the haft of her weapon ready, then drew it back in preparation of beheading her pinned opponent. Except that Ilfort wasn't so much pinned as he was awkwardly going along with her desire to straddle his middle. He hadn't minded too much, aside from the murderous intent part...

A noisy clang as the zanpakuto bit into the floor where Ilfort had once been alerted her to the fact that her quarry had escaped. She stood up and peered all around, breathing increased and nerves on edge. She didn't see him. It was as if he had disappeared.

Up on the roof of the tower, Ilfort sat down and held his head in both hands, trying to psyche himself up for reasons he didn't quite follow.

Why do I feel so weird? Why would you just sit there with a Soul Reaper on top of you, you fool! Get it together! Come on, remember! It came so easily a few hours ago! What to do, how to avoid getting shanked here. How strong is she based on the distance and impact of her Shikai strikes, come on. Think, Brother...

Ilfort leaned over the edge of the tower. She was there, not knowing that her target was looking down on the top of her head. His eyes softened from the ferocious focus they had worked themselves into.

Wow, even her roots are pretty... Look at how she moves when she uses flash step... Gorgeous... HOLD UP, NO. NO MORE OF THAT. Back to work. Figure out a weakness. Ambush her. What is something I can use? Her Shikai, what else does it do? What else could it do? I've got to be careful... Some zanpakuto can kill the hell out of someone much stronger than their owner just because...

Ilfort shifted, putting a reluctant hand on the hilt of Del Toro. A loose gravel from on top of the tower was disturbed by one of his knees, and tipped in slow motion over the precipice.

Doink!

"Ow!" The woman looked up as she clapped a hand to the top of her head. Ilfort winced.

"S-sorry," he called down to her. Schiesse, you idiot.

Wisps of dust flew back as she barreled toward him. As he watched her approach he realized he didn't have to worry too much about her killing him. Her flash step was well-trained, but slow enough that he could track her with his eyes instead of relying on Pesquisa. It wasn't slow for a seated officer in the lower ranks, but Ilfort's strength was not equivocal to that. Not even close. He came right up the tip of the third seat margin, possibly a weak Lieutenant. This girl was no Lieutenant...

He now had to worry about not her killing him, but him killing her. Which he knew he could, but for some reason he found himself not wanting to.

Why not, you idiot! She is a Soul Reaper! Think about all the random Arrancar she's probably killed while on her missions in the boonies here! If she gets sent to Hueco Mundo then she has definitely been ordered to kill Arrancar! She's a murderer! Genocide, man, think of the genocide!

She had caught up to him. Coming within striking distance, she held her Yukihyo in both hands until the knuckles were pale and swept it low at his abdomen. Ilfort didn't have to expend much effort to catch it. He seized the haft area just below the blade in one hand and twisted it about, wrenching his opponent's arm in the process. With the woman's mind racing for an explanation of how that happened, Ilfort spun her and snagged her throat in the crook of one arm.

"Stop that flailing around. I'll pop your pretty head off," he forced a sneer. He flushed slightly as his brain caught up to his body. She was touching him. Well...more like he was almost strangling her, but close enough, "I said stop it. Are you suicidal or something?"

"No more suicidal than you." She tried to turn her head slightly, but Ilfort put on a mild squeeze for emphasis. The Arrancar wondered what she meant. He had a bad feeling.

His bad feeling turned out to be correct, but he was to addled by her looks and his strange reaction to her being so close to him to heed it. Wriggling one hand slightly, she pressed hard on her weapon's tang. A spur popped out. Before Ilfort could push the girl and her Shikai away from him the spur turned into a large dart and sprang at his face.

"Gyeeaah!" Ilfort stumbled backwards. His hand had shot up and sacrificed its own health for the sake of his face. He clutched the effected palm and tried to stem the steady ooze of blood from where the dart had pierced it, dead center. The Soul Reaper returned to a fighting stance.

"You should thank me," she said, her face becoming a black mask in the shadows. "I tried to miss the main arteries and nerves. That should heal just fine when you arrive in Soul Society..."

Except that Arrancar aren't Hollows and that doesn't happen when you bastards kill us! Ilfort wanted to shout. Was that how they convinced themselves that their deeds were noble, or at least not evil? At least they had to use an excuse. That made it a tiny bit better.

"Goodbye." The blade came flying toward him, his forehead the target.

The doors to the interior of the tower burst open. Suddenly the sound of the alarm that had been blaring inside the massive indoor city could be heard through the opening. White blurs rushed out--Soldados Fracciónes. The woman lifted her head and the scythe-like Yukihyo halted in mid-air a foot from Ilfort's nose.

"I knew it--It's a Soul Reaper!" one of the Fracciónes cried out. A chorus of growls and battle shouts followed, and the mob set their sights on Ilfort's attacker. Her eyes grew wide as she suddenly realized that she was doomed if she stayed any longer. Running right past Ilfort, she groped wildly in her sleeve. As she neared the edge of the fortress wall, she threw something small and shimmering over the side and jumped herself.

"Don't let her out of--shit!" A familiar face roared in disappointment. The fellow Sexta Fracción barreled out of the doorway and knocked over a few of the weaker Soldados with his beefy arms. He came to a halt at the edge of the drop and glared over the side. He spat over the edge in disgust and turned back, returning his sword to its sheath.

"Edorad," Ilfort mumbled, staggering backwards and letting himself fall to the ground on his butt. "How'd you..?"

"Alarm went off when it sensed someone tearing it up up here," Edorad explained. A pair of medics fought their way through the disappointed throng of worked-up warriors, crouching on either side of Ilfort's personal space and making him flinch away. "I didn't think you'd get your ass whupped by that little pipsqueak though."

"H-hey..!" Ilfort tried to stand, but was shoved back down by the silent medics as they examined his punctured hand, "She was stronger than she looked..! And she took me by surprise!"

"By surprise..?" Edorad peered back over his shoulder with a slight grin, "Weren't you on guard duty?"

"Y-yes..! But she just sh-showed up! I only closed my eyes for a second..!"

Edorad sauntered off, producing wicked-sounding little gut chuckles.

"Heheheheh... You be glad Grimmjow don't read the reports that close..." The larger man started down the stairs inside the door, "Heheheheh!"

Ilfort shocked himself by not reacting strongly to the jest, instead trying to crawl over to the edge of the tower. The medics held him back by the shoulders, but he continued pulling weakly to see where the Soul Reaper had gone.

"Stay still, will you," one of the medics grumbled, trying to adhere a bit of gauze to his bleeding palm.

"She's long gone by now. Or Edorad would have put paid to her," the other said. Ilfort sighed and leaned back, allowing the two to help him up. That was true. Edorad would have gave chase if she were visible. She must have had some way to open a Garganta, or something like it, after she fell. He found himself being sad that she was gone.

WHOA, whoa, whoa! Ilfort's inner thoughts screamed out again as the two medics led him inside, Hold on. She tried to kill you. Kill you! You should be asking Edorad to rip her in half! Or doing it yourself if you ever lay eyes on her again! Not thinking about her hair, even if it is shiny and beautiful and... Gaaahh, you're doing it again! Stop it! She is BAAAAAAD!

"Ilfort, sir, are you alright? You look spaced out."

Ilfort blinked and looked across his shoulder at the first medic, briefly coming out of his own head.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just... thinking."

"And bleeding," the second medic added, rolling her eyes. "Will you hold that hand up a bit higher? Would be a help, you know."

"Fine, fine," Ilfort glared slightly at her and complied. He was too dizzy and confused to call her out on her rudeness. Besides, it doesn't pay to insult the ones who patch up your many wounds...


Author's Notes: This is AU, if you haven't noted. Check out my other AU for the weird details, "Crack, Science, Weird-Ass Events, and an Alternate Reality!". The characters are all from that alternate universe, but since most of the characters in this are either Grimmjow's fanclub or OCs then there's not so much OOC weirdness going on (Grimm and his boys are a little less kill-y, Grimm himself is more good guy than bad, and some of the events are a little...switchy...). Overall the Grimmjow boys' personalities are the same as their canon ones.