Chapter One: Killing
Warning: A lot of spoilers, blood and killing. Minimal pairings and some intimate paragraphs. Character 'death.'
Disclaimers see authors's profile.
Set after Ichigo rescued Orihime, Aizen did not attack Karakura Town, Nel is made an Espada through some sort of thing involving Hollows and Spiritual Pressure.
Prelude
It has been three years.
Three years since Kurosaki Ichigo's foolish attempt to rescue Inoue Orihime. Three years since the full return of Neliel Tu Ordeshvank. Three years since Gotei 13 lost another powerful captain to the Hollows. Three years since Kuchiki Rukia saw the cherry blossom trees in the Kuchiki garden flower. Three years since he died, but did not remain otherwise.
Three years was enough to fuel his vengeance that would cloud over everything he believed, everything he had protected, everything he has grown to love.
Three years to become powerful enough to turn every river and lake soft crimson red.
Three years since the new and perfect Espada uniform fitted for him touched a Shinigami's scarlet spots, since Senbonzakura transformed into beautiful and deadly petals.
It has been three years,
He wonders if the blood of revenge, of his loved ones, really would taste as sweet as he deemed.
Reason
He was ordered to go to Karakura town and destroy or at least mortally wound all the Shinigami, substitutes and spiritual humans live there. His chest prickled a little with Aizen said 'all of.' He decided to spare her, after all, she wasn't the one issued the damned command.
He stepped out to the cream colored sand dunes of Hueco Mundo, grey eyes gazing at the always full moon. He swiped a long pale finger across the black air, creating a void named Garganta, he stepped in, and its jaws quickly sealed shut.
He decided to use the long space of time across dimensions to think of dramatic and frightening ways to 'welcome' his old Shinigami Comrades. His thoughts drifted from theatrics, to Shinigamis, to his vice-captain and finally, to his untimely death.
He chuckled, a sound heard so rarely from him, bone-chilling instead of comfort, a sound that bounced off the voiles black portal and the purple streak made by his reiastu, it all started three years ago.
A fist covered in talons came out of nowhere, knocking him into the air, he can't make himself slow down; he has no control over his body and the G Force around it. He felt another giant fist close around, the sharp points penetrating through his shikasho, his skin, his flesh, his bones, and eventually into his organs. His mouth opened, a trickle of blood smeared down. He obediently closed his eyes, finally accepting futility.
He dies.
His spirit particles flowed out, surrounding his broken body like a shield so he could feel everything, hear everything, plant the seed that would blossom into a fie vengeance three years later. He felt Kenpachi pull off his eye patch, releasing a staggering amount of thick golden reiastu. A chipped blade sword was dragged in the sand. He heard Yammy scream his last.
That's when a power on par with the captain-general showed itself. He heard Renji screaming retreat while throwing a shrieking Rukia, felt Unohana grabbing Kenpachi and pulling him through a Senkeimon. He heard somewhere smirking beside his ear that is definitely not a Hollow and felt his captain haori being yanked away.
The seed blossomed.
The rest, he chose to forget the details after it had happened. He only remembered some: the fight with the tricera Espada Hallibel, the return of Neliel, the sizzling hotness of the number zero being branded on the side of his neck.
He tapped the garganta open. He wanted them all to remember, remember three years ago, remember the state he was left in. He stepped onto the sky of Karakura Town and smirked.
He was once Kuchiki Byakuya was he not?
Death
He remained spread eagle in mid-air, talons in pieces flaked on his body. His hair fanned out around his face, wrapped around his throat. Sand, blood and grime caked in the once beautiful ebony locks. Shredded shikasho, broken kenseikan, strings of the windflower scarf fluttered in the death breeze.
The worst was the blood. Oozing, dripping, trickling from his mouth, the various holes in his body, falling like rain down to the streets of the town. His eyes were half closed, as if forced open to allow everyone to see the grey eyes, reduced of its usual arrogance, protectiveness and life.
Renji made a move to touch him, to help him down, maybe take him to the forth division in hopes of reviving his old captain, maybe that could make his guilt a bit less. He felt his guilt coming in waves; wave after waves of You didn't save him. You let him die. You left him there. You are a coward. He doesn't deserve this. You caused this. You are a demon. He didn't notice the strange soft sheen of Hollow like glow emanating from the body. Renji didn't, but Rukia did. A small lithe arm blocked his advance, pushed him back. He stared at Rukia, but she looked up at the corpse and glared.
"Who the hell are you? What have you done to nii-sama?" She demanded, voice filled with cracks.
A thunderous clapping echoed across the skies, the invisible god chuckled. "Well done Rukia, though I believe I'm your bother no longer."
As if a fiery curtain was lifted, the body melted away, through the dark hole of the night sky and was replaced by something even more terrifying.
He was dressed in a white hakama and a finely tailored top with a high collar, much like Aizen's own, wide sleeves, his scarf was wrapped around his waist like a belt, two long strands joining a cape like extension that swept down over the back of the hakama. Senbonzakura gleamed proudly at his waist. His hair was longer than that of three years ago, stormy grey eyes rimmed with red, and hands in their usual fingerless gloves. His left hand went up and unzipped his collar, white bones cuffed around one side of his neck was exposed along with his Hollow hole. He let all of them absorb what that circle meant for a few brief seconds.
As quick as he came, he disappeared
Renji could hear Hitsugaya Taicho release his bankai, he went for his own weapon. A brutally fast sonido step, a glint of blades and Renji's face was stained with melting ice droplets and blood flakes. In the corner of his eyes he saw Hitsugaya taicho slump down on the streets on the town, drowning in melting ice and quick cooling blood.
When he felt Byakuya's steps fade into the residential areas of Karakura town, he grabbed Rukia's hand and went after him. Weaving around telephone poles and stray cats. He unsheathed Zabimaru.
A spurt of blood, a widening of eyes and Renji stopped running, the iron grip he had around Rukia slackened, he thought he heard his sword drop with a clatter; he stumbled forward, and forever closed his eyes.
Rukia ran
She doesn't know where she found the strength to go on. Her own brother was dead, replaced something with the exact appearance as him. It was the shinigami that was her brother that planted the seed of vengeance, but it was the Hollow that was once her brother that harvested the flower from the damned tree.
She knew she could never escape, she could only buy herself time, time to think of many dark thought related to her eventual demise. Today or someday else.
Soon enough, she found him, or more accurately, he found her. She skirted into a dead-end alley way, thinking to just wait for him. She already heard enough of Mastumoto's screams, Ikkaku's yells and Yumichika's pleas. She just couldn't run anymore. He was just there, a deity on a midnight walk, sword sheathed, eyes and hands on a glistening red spider lily, gently pushing the lily until the dew on its flowers fell off.
With a flick of his fingers, the petals fly up. Lilies, sakura, daisies all went up in the air, blinding her for a split second, her arms brought up to shield her from the leaves. When she brought it down, he was in front of her, hands on her face, pale fingers pressing into her cheekbones.
"Nii-sama."
The petals twist and flash, and she crumples into his arms.
Rukia could feel the blood seeping from her abdomen; she looked up to those red-rimmed grey eyes, for maybe the last time. She felt save, truly save for three years, in her brother's arms, as her blood soak to his uniform. She doesn't want to move away, and he respects that wish.
Something flew out of Byakuya's eyes; a hidden vermilion crane nestled into her eyes. And Kuchiki Rukia's world went red.
Unrequited
Sode no Shiraiyuki woke up, not in her eternal cold moon palace, but in a forest of more than a million sakura trees. A small gazebo stood amidst the blossom trees, where a man was preparing tea.
It all changed. It has been three years since she last visited in Senbonzakura's domain. She has visited him before. They played chess and Sode no Shiraiyuki lost miserably on two separate occasions. There used to be a tall temple where Senbonzakura had lived and honed his skills, deep in the forest of blossoms that sang for their lord. Now the blossoms were no longer pink, but deep violet, like an enraged beast's blood was showered mercilessly over the entire forest. The gazebo went for a shade of ashy black instead of the temple's usual iridescence.
Like the forest, he changed too. The mask was cracked, only covering his eyes, with three fragments arching up, decorated with two deep purple stripes that formed a claw around his eye. His fringe was longer, half covering over the fragment. He wore a simple white yukata with a long, flowing haori slung over his shoulders. Crimson, like his master's blood.
"Sode no Shiraiyuki, come sit." He said, and she obliged, walking gracefully and gingerly on top of the grey stone steps to the table, leaving a thin trail of ice lining where she stepped.
"Senbonzakura-dono, I didn't realize you are still…" She began, but quickly closed her mouth upon seeing the harsh glare sent her way. "I believe you've called me here because of something important?" She tried again.
"Indeed, Byakiya-sama request Rukia-sama to train, achieve and master Bankai." He sipped his tea and pushed a porcelain cup across the table.
She was bewildered, bankai is probably what a normal Shinigami called pinnacle, bankai sometimes meant a one-way death ticket for a handful of Hollows and Arrancars. So why?
"Byakuya-sama implied that Rukia-sama would know the reason." She must have seen through her bemused face.
She nodded and stepped out of the gazebo, turning her back to him for just a moment. A sharp pain flashed across her back and she crumpled back, into someone's crimson's hand. She closed her eyes and snuggled closer. They stayed like that for a while. Her: eyes closed and lips open in a smile, lying in another's crimson fabric and her own crimson blood. Him: changed with his master, playing with the various hair clips in her silvery locks, caring for someone he shouldn't have.
"I'm so sorry, Shiraiyuki."
He wasn't sure if she heard it.
She wasn't sure if he meant it.
A/N: This is my first Bleach Fanfiction, so don't flame me. Reviews are very welcome. Please tell me how many nouns I have misspelled in this whole thing.
I finally got around to type this. Yay!
There is no pairings in this fic, Byakuya and Rukia are just plain old siblings. Senbonzakura and Sode no Shiraiyuki are just really close friends. I warned you that there is these sort of things here. I deleted a chunk out there because it is just too...wrong.
I just couldn't resist putting the vermilion thing in there. I love Code Geass. Sue me.
Inspired by The New Cero Espada by Sabaku-No-Gaara1994. Byakuya's clothing was from Sakura Tsuiraku Part 1 by Spunky0ne
Just something to clear up: RUKIA IS NOT DEAD.
Should I continue this?