Dear Reader, Welcome to Part III of The Peacock. I should warn you, this whole volume is an emotional rollercoaster. Lots of readers who are waiting patiently for Ikkaku and Yumichika to come to a peaceful, final relationship will have that patience severely tested; but don't give up! And for those hoping and praying for Yumichika and his pretty peacock to come to terms . . . well, same advice: patience. I have to admit that part III contains a lot of my favorite parts of the story and has been written for quite some time. With a few tweaks here and there, I imagine I can have a chapter a week up. Maybe more. So, I hope you enjoy it. And thank you, everyone, for the reviews. They are most appreciated. Peace, TK
Chapter 22 The Truth
"Many times I've tried to tell you.
Many times I've cried alone.
Always I'm surprised how well
You cut my feelings to the bone."
We Belong
Pat Benatar
"Do you mind if I join you?"
It was a strange request. Ever since that day when Yumichika had shown him his true power, ever since that day when a fifth seat had humiliated a lieutenant, Shuhei Hisagi had kept his contact with Yumichika to a minimum.
But now, here he was, asking to join him.
There were at least a dozen empty tables in the pub; so either Hisagi did not want to sit alone or he had a purpose in seeking out Yumichika.
"Go ahead," Yumichika said. He noticed Shuhei already had a glass in hand, and he could not help but wonder if that was something the lieutenant felt he needed in order to be able to sit face-to-face with the man who had defeated him in such an unexpected and intimate manner, even all those years ago.
"Now that Koga and Muramasa are both defeated, there's something I wanted to ask you," Shuhei began directly. He was that sort of man: forthright and no nonsense. When something was on his mind, he had no qualms about getting straight to the point.
"Ask," Yumichika replied. "I'll answer, if I can."
"Did it ever occur to you that the relationship between Muramasa and Koga was the same kind of relationship that I have with Kazeshini, and that you have with Fuji Kujaku?" Shuhei proposed.
This statement did not come as a surprise to Yumichika, for indeed, he had considered the very idea from the moment Muramasa's story became known.
Muramasa had belonged to a Shinigami named Koga, a good and decent man who had married into the Kuchiki Clan when Ginrei Kuchiki had been the patriarch and long before Yumichika and Ikkaku had joined the Gotei 13. As a warrior, Koga's skills had been nothing short of magnificent, and he was enlisted to aid in the fight against a rebellious faction in the ranks of the Gotei 13. His prowess soon became a thing of renown, and General Yamamoto appointed him to head up a special forces unit dedicated to eliminating the remaining rebels.
Of his zanpakuto, Koga could not have conceived a better companion. Muramasa was powerful, full of flattery and praise, and his unique ability to enter the inner worlds of other Shinigami and manipulate their zanpakuto through preying on and enchancing negative emotions was a power of which Koga himself felt a measure of pride.
Yet, Koga's greatest pride had always been himself; and with his appointment as commander of the special forces, his arrogance grew in proportion to his authority. When it became clear to his fellow officers that he was likely to crush the rebellion single-handedly, the twisted specter of jealousy worked to turn some of those officers against him, for their own glory must not be tarnished at the hands of a man whose position came not of noble blood, but simply by the vulgar means of marrying into nobility.
The offended officers concocted a scheme to frame Koga as a murderer, bent on a lust for blood, willing to turn on his own soldiers in order to keep the prestige for himself. The plan was only partially successful, for while it resulted in Koga's imprisonment, Ginrei Kuchiki was not convinced that the story was true. When the punishment was handed down, suspending Koga from his position in the 6th Division and, even worse, imposing a sentence of nullification on his zanpakuto, Ginrei refused to accept the verdict. He had seen with his own eyes and heard with his own ears that the Central 46 had been more worried about Muramasa getting out of control than Koga's alleged murder, but until Muramasa was nullified, Koga could not be set free.
Ginrei had left Koga in the prison as he began the process of trying to figure out a way to secure his freedom and perhaps the rehabilitation of his zanpakuto, for even Ginrei had to agree that Muramasa posed a great danger to the stability of the Gotei 13 – not only in his abilities, but in the feeding of his master's sense of self-importance.
Leaving Koga to be watched over by only low-level prison guards would prove to be a mistake for which Ginrei Kuchiki would never forgive himself. It had been only too easy for Muramasa to procure Koga's freedom, and what had followed was a rampage that was every bit as violent as the rebellion they had been trying to put down. He began by killing those who had betrayed him, an action he believed to be completely justified. Those in charge of Soul Society did not share his opinion; and when, after a search, Ginrei found him on the outermost limits of Soul Society and announced that he would most likely be executed for his actions, what little restraint had remained inside Koga frayed into pieces. Now, not only had he been betrayed by his fellow officers, but his captain, as well. Everyone was against him.
The killing spree that followed was something Ginrei laid on his own shoulders.
But Ginrei was not the only one distressed by Koga's loss of control.
Muramasa had grown fearful for his master's sanity. The virulent hatred in Koga's heart, the increasing aggrandizement of self, the creeping paranoia – it was all happening so quickly, and Muramasa was unable to stop it. His entreaties to his master to end the killing and begin a new life were rejected, even lambasted. As the days went on, Muramasa found himself more and more on the receiving end of his master's anger and abuse, for Koga had come to believe that even his own zanpakuto was against him.
The harmony that had once existed between them had grown more and more fragmented until it ceased to exist altogether. Muramasa passed countless days in his inner world in utter silence. Koga had refused to call upon him. It was the isolation of one forsaken, and yet Muramasa never gave up hope. He loved his master too much, and so he awaited the sound of his voice.
But he never heard it again.
The vileness that had built itself up around Koga's heart made it impossible for his commands to get through to Muramasa. To be sure, he had called upon him many times – always for combat, never for companionship – and every time, his calls had gone unanswered. In Koga's mind, his zanpakuto had abandoned him.
And that abandonment cost him his freedom, for after months of pursuit, he was finally tracked down by Ginrei and General Yamamoto. In the battle, unaided by Muramasa, he was defeated and sealed away, never to be released.
If nothing else had been able to break through to Muramasa, Koga's being sealed did. The rage and pain were so violent that Muramasa had felt something was going on. The moment he realized his master was being sealed, Muramasa acted quickly. He manifested into the outside world, well away from the battle, for he knew this was something he could not win. No . . . he must remain free in order that he might figure out a way to free his master, and then . . . then they would reconcile and unite as one again.
For hundreds of years, Muramasa existed on the paltry spirit energy of whatever hollows he could find. He injected himself into the inner worlds of thousands of zanpakuto, gaining knowledge and leaving without a trace. He had even encountered, on more than one occasion, a strange collection of zanpakuto reiatsu, comingled and always expanding yet with no definable inner world or Shinigami to which they were attached. He began to piece together the actions necessary in order to free his master, and finally, he had enacted his plan.
The zanpakuto rebellion he'd instigated had only been a single step on the way to gaining the knowledge to break the seal – knowledge that only Yamamoto possessed. He'd managed to trick the Shinigami into thinking that Yamamoto was imprisoned; and in their efforts to free him, they discovered that the captain commander had never been imprisoned at all but rather had constructed a barrier around himself to keep Muramasa from entering Ryujin Jakka's world, wherein the secret resided.
When the barrier was breached, Muramasa was easily able to retrieve the secret. He also learned where his beloved master was hidden, and he set off to find him.
It may have been his own selective memory that he could only recall the days of bliss between him and Koga. It may have been wishful thinking. It may have been that so many years had passed since those terrible days of violence that Muramasa had expected Koga's emotions to have lost their edge.
But whatever it was, it was wrong. Muramasa was wrong. For the moment Koga was free, his first action was to snap his zanpakuto in half, cursing and reviling him.
That moment had marked with certainty the end of both Koga and Muramasa. Koga went down to defeat at the hands of Byakuya Kuchiki. Muramasa, abandoned by the master whom he had so loved, for whom he had spent the last two hundred years searching, gave in to the dark energy of all the hollows he had ingested over the years. He met his end at the tip of Ichigo Kurosaki's blade, yet it had not been an unwelcome end. Whatever had happened between Ichigo and Muramasa before Muramasa's death, it had seemed to give the zanpakuto peace-of-mind. In the aftermath, Ichigo had never spoken ill of Muramasa but rather seemed to harbor a sort of sad hopefulness that no one really understood and that he would not explain.
That great final battle had taken place nearly two months ago, and Yumichika had not been able to elude its implications. And neither, it appeared, had Hisagi.
Muramasa's manipulation of Koga had resulted, not in the returned devotion so desired by the zanpakuto, but rather in the creation of an egomaniacal monster whose hatred had burned so white-hot that any relationship between master and servant could only exist as disdain and disgust.
It was the same sort of disdain and disgust that Yumichika often felt for Ruriiro Kujaku, that Shuhei felt for Kazeshini.
And everyone knew it.
The enmity between the two zanpakuto and their masters was not a secret. Yumichika and Shuhei had not made it secret. They were both only too outspoken in their condemnation of their weapons, at the same time as boasting of their abilities, to the extent that Yumichika could boast, given the circumstances.
But Ruri'iro Kujaku's abilities weren't a secret from Shuhei, and that was why the Ninth Squad lieutenant had sought out the man he had once referred to as a "lowly fifth seat." He certainly did not view him as lowly anymore; and despite the injury to his pride—an injury that still had not healed—Shuhei knew that Ayasegawa was perhaps the only one who could understand the tumult he was feeling.
Yumichika answered slowly. "It . . . did occur to me, yes."
"Does it worry you?" Shuhei asked, his eyes darting suspiciously about the room, checking to make sure no one could hear their conversation.
Yumichika thought about the question. Did events with Muramasa suddenly make him more fearful of his zanpakuto? Did he now feel that Ruri'iro Kujaku might turn on him or that he might be driven to turn on Ruri'iro Kujaku? Oh, how many hours he had spent mulling those thought, but he still had no answers. The truth was he'd feared Ruri'iro Kujaku for decades now. He'd always known the unstable power he was dealing with, the mercurial nature, the capricious soul inside the zanpakuto.
But to see the physical results of a relationship gone bad . . .
"I barely have control over him," Hisagi was saying. "Kazeshini loves death so much that . . . seeing him manifested and—and running around like an uncaged animal, killing for the fun of it . . . what part of me houses such a callous disregard for life? What part of me could have given rise to such a despicable creature?"
"I think most of us wonder where certain characteristics of our zanpakuto came from," Yumichika replied, adding with a frown. "Although sometimes, it's not really a mystery." A pause. "We just don't want to admit that we're responsible."
Shuhei raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying you think I'm responsible for Kazeshini being so violent?"
Yumichika looked at him in grave earnest. "In some manner, you have to be." He drew in a deep breath and lowered his eyes to gaze without focus at the table. "I can't pretend that I'm not responsible for Ruri'iro Kujaku's anger. You've seen what he really is, what he can do. He hates me hiding that from everyone. He's very prideful, and he wants to be seen. But that's not the only thing. He doesn't want me to be injured or defeated. He hates the chance I take by not releasing him to his full ability." A pause. "I used to blame him for not understanding my desire to keep him hidden. But it's really not his fault. It's mine. I'm not willing to lose the Eleventh Squad—"
"Or Ikkaku," Shuhei interjected.
"Or Ikkaku," Yumichika confirmed. "And nothing's changed. I'm still not willing to lose him. I'm still not willing to reveal Ruri'iro Kujaku' true abilities. We may stay enemies forever."
"That can't be what you want," Shuhei said incredulously.
"It's not what I want, but what choice do I have? I can't have Ikkaku and reveal Ruri'iro Kujaku's true nature," Yumichika sighed. "Ikkaku would have to change his mind first."
Shuhei smirked. "That's not going to happen."
Yumichika could not argue.
Yumichika sat up in bed. Why was he even trying to sleep? That blasted conversation with Shuhei Hisagi, spoken almost six months ago, would not leave his head.
"I can't pretend that I'm not responsible for Ruri'iro Kujaku's anger."
It was an admission he'd never made before. It was an admission that now haunted him, for he knew it was true. He knew that he himself was at the crux of all that had gone wrong between him and his zanpakuto.
And yet, he knew he could not change things. He could not suddenly allow Ruri'iro Kujaku his freedom; not without risking everything he held dear. He was not willing to take that chance.
He got out of bed and went to splash some water on his face. Looking at his image in the mirror, he suddenly felt hollow inside.
There had been a time when he could look at his reflection and see Ruri'iro Kujaku behind his eyes. There had been no question but that Ruri'iro was a manifestation of his own soul. They had been so much alike – in temperament, in mannerism, in their appreciation of beauty, especially their own. They had been so close . . .
But now, he couldn't see him at all. They had grown too far apart, increasingly hateful towards each other. And the situation created by Muramasa, while it had brought many zanpakuto closer to their masters, had done much the opposite for Yumichika and Ruri'iro Kujaku, for it had shown Yumichika , in no uncertain terms, just how much better than himself was his zanpakuto.
Ruri'iro Kujaku had had so many opportunities to defeat him, but he had not taken any of them. Why was a question Yumichika could not fathom, given the feelings between them. Yumichika felt strangely humbled by his zanpakuto's restraint. And since humility did not sit well on Yumichika, he had found himself growing more and more distressed as each day had passed. The conversation six months earlier with Hisagi had not helped; in fact, it had confirmed what Yumichika had always kept hidden deep inside.
His own guilt.
He could never change the parameters of his current situation, knowing what losses might ensue. But perhaps . . . perhaps he could apologize.
He returned to his bed, sat down and closed his eyes. Did he even recall how to enter his inner world? It had been so long . . .
"Kimi-san . . . "
Yumichika opened his eyes. Ruri'iro Kujaku stood before him with a stunned and wary look on his face.
But it was only Ruri'iro Kujaku. All the other usual trappings of his inner world were gone. The place, once rich in color and texture, was now completely barren. Only the zanpakuto remained.
"I can't believe it. It's been so long since you've met me here," Ruri'iro said. "After our last meeting, I didn't think you'd ever want to see me again. You haven't called on me since then, not even by that hateful name."
Yumichika looked at him with the usual awe – but with a shadow of sadness. He had always considered Ruri'iro Kujaku to be at his most stunning here in the place where he resided, surrounded by the halo of his own energy. It made Yumichika sad to think that he had lost all appreciation for something he had once loved more than anything else, even though he had never admitted to that love.
"I was afraid," he said at last in a quiet voice. "I didn't know how things would be. You've—you've grown so powerful that I—"
"You defeated me in our last encounter," Ruri'iro reminded him.
"No, I didn't. I know you let me win," Yumichika replied. "For all that talk of killing me, you could have done it a dozen times. But you didn't. I've thought about that for a long time now. I don't understand why you didn't kill me. Isn't that what Muramasa wanted? For the zanpakuto to kill their masters?"
"It was part of his plan—"
"So, why didn't you kill me?"
Ruri'iro gave a small shrug. "Because I wasn't under Muramasa's control."
Yumichika knit his brows. "But, how is that possible? All the zanpakuto were under his control."
"One of the benefits of being kido-based. I'm not easily controlled, as you well know."
"But those things you said to me—"
"Had nothing to do with Muramasa. I said them because they were all true. You hated me, and I hated you back. Even when I tried to win you back by appealing to your sense of beauty, you rejected me," Ruri'iro explained, "Which is why I'm surprised that you're here now. Why have you come after all this time?"
"I don't know," Yumichika replied.
"I can tell from your demeanor you didn't come here because you're ready to accept me and show me to the other Shinigami, so why are you here?" Ruri'iro persisted.
Yumichika shook his head. "I just . . . I felt like I wanted to see you, but I—I—" He didn't know what to say, so he changed the subject. "What happened here? Why is it so barren and cold? It was never like this before."
Ruri'iro looked at him in sad resignation. "It's been like this for years. Ever since we left the glen above Venla, it's been fading. Now, the only thing left is me and the shrine. Everything else that was beautiful and warm and comforting – gone."
And even though he feared the answer, Yumichika asked, "Why is that?"
"Kimi . . . " Ruri'iro sighed deeply. "This place is a reflection of your soul. This is what you've become."
Yumichika felt his pulse quicken. "That can't be true," he protested. "If that's right, then why—why are you still here?"
"Because you have need of me from time to time," Ruri'iro replied, adding with an almost imploring inflection, "Did you learn nothing from what happened between Koga and Muramasa? Is that what you want to happen with us?"
"This isn't the same thing," Yumichika defended. "Muramasa didn't hate his master. You hate me, you can't deny it."
Ruri'iro frowned. "Sometimes, yes. Do you blame me? You're ashamed of me, and you purposefully make me angry in order to keep me hidden. Does such behavior not merit some bit of hatred on my part?"
"You don't understand," Yumichika said, shaking his head.
"Yes, I do. I know exactly why you treat me the way you do," Ruri'iro countered. "You're not a coward, but you are afraid of losing Madarame . . . and your place in that beastly division. You admitted to me when I had you in the vines, but I knew it already. You're afraid of losing something that doesn't suit you to begin with. You've become just like them . . . and that's why everything of beauty has vanished from this place. I'm all that remains . . . and only because I'm useful to you. This isn't how it's supposed to be."
Yumichika was speechless. He felt an ache in his chest that he hadn't felt in a long time.
Sensing his master's distress, Ruri'iro reached out and caressed master's cheek. Oh, how long it had been since he'd touched him in such a manner! It made him realize just how much he longed for his master. "But it doesn't have to be this way. Come back, kimi-san. Things can go back to how they used to be. You remember what it was like back then, all the fun we had. It can be like that again."
Yumichika wanted to believe him – only he knew what losses such a return would entail.
"I can't." The pain was clear in his voice. "I can't. Nothing has changed."
Ruri'iro's hand fell to his side. "What if it never changes?"
"I don't know."
"So, we are to remain estranged from each other for all eternity."
"I don't want that," Yumichika replied earnestly. "But I don't know what we can both be satisfied with." He paused and sighed. "I wish . . . I wish
that—"
"Yumichika? Yumichika!"
That was not Ruri'iro Kujaku's voice.
Yumichika's eyes snapped open to see Ikkaku staring down at him.
"Ikkaku?"
"Are you sleeping sitting up?" Ikkaku asked with a one-sided grin. "Don't you hear the alarm? Let's go!" He had Yumichika by the arm before the latter could give any kind of response. Yumichika reached out and snatched up his zanpakuto as Ikkaku pulled him out the door.
"What's going on?" Yumichika asked as they headed toward the Eleventh Division's courtyard.
"I don't know. I just heard the alarm and came running," Ikkaku puffed. Running was always a spectacle with Ikkaku, arms flailing, red-faced, cheeks and eyes bulging. Yumichika, on the other hand, seemed to glide effortlessly at his side. "Good thing I passed by your room. You looked like you were in a trance. What were you doing?"
Yumichika saw no sense in lying. "I was talking with Fuji Kujaku."
A look of surprise flashed over Ikkaku's face. "Really? I didn't think you two talked at all anymore."
"We rarely do," Yumichika admitted.
"So, why now? What did he want?"
"He didn't want anything," Yumichika replied. "It was my idea to talk to him."
Now, Ikkaku was truly perplexed. "You started the conversation? Does this mean you're finally trying to mend the fences?"
Yumichika grimaced inwardly. In his ignorant bliss and despite his dislike of Fuji Kujaku, Ikkaku had long chastised Yumichika for his poor relationship with his zanpakuto, not knowing that he himself was the basis for that poor relationship.
"I don't want him to hate me anymore," Yumichika replied.
"Well, that's a start," Ikkaku said. "Look, even I have problems with Houzikimaru. You know how lazy he is—"
"But you hide your bankai because you don't want to be made a captain," Yumichika interjected. "That has to make him angry."
"Ha! Houzikimaru would be happy never even to shikai!" Ikkaku said with a gruff laugh.
"You know that's not true."
"Yeah, you're right," Ikkaku admitted. "He likes to fight as much as I do."
They rounded the final corner and entered the courtyard where the rest of the division was assembling. As seated officers, they took their places at the head of the formation and waited for their captain and lieutenant to arrive. Behind them, they could hear the buzz of curiosity. What was going on?
They got their answer in short order when Captain Kenpachi Zaraki strode into the courtyard. He stood in front of his men and came straight to the point. "It looks like our mystery friend is back."
Mystery friend? The squad members looked sideways at each other, wondering what their captain was talking about.
"It's been a long time, but the black demon has shown up again."
The black demon. Now, everyone understood.
The wisp of black cloud that had made its first appearance over a hundred years ago, the same black cloud that had held Yumichika transfixed as it killed others around him, the same black cloud that had eluded every search had apparently shown up again.
Over the intervening years since its first sighting, the cloud had been seen maybe a hundred times; and each instance had been the same. It would appear long enough to kill several Shinigami, and then it would vanish. It had never attacked civilians – only members of the Gotei 13.
"R&D"—referring to the Research and Development Institute of Squad Twelve—"detected a disturbance in Zone 42 East. It's signature matches that of the demon. The old man's ordered Eleventh Division to investigate." A wry grin curled Zaraki's lip, for it was an established fact that the Eleventh didn't investigate. "Let's go."
It was only a matter of a several dozen shunpo steps to arrive at the coordinates provided by the Research and Development Institute, being that the travel was over fairly open ground.
The Eleventh Division alit on the top of a low ridge on one side of a narrow valley.
On the rise opposite was the reason for the alert.
The cloud, no longer wispy but instead dense and swirling, hovered low to the ground. It's size had greatly increased to the point where it stretched at least a hundred yards long, rose up to the height of a five-story building, and it stretched back over the hillside in hidden width.
"Where the hell could that thing have been hiding all this time, grown to that size?" Ikkaku asked.
Zaraki merely grinned wickedly. "Who cares? It's here now. I've been waiting a long time to fight this thing."
Yachiru bounced up and down excitedly on his shoulder. "Ken-chan! Yay! Let's go!"
Zaraki shook his head. "Yachiru, you stay here until I check it out."
Ikkaku took a step forward. "Let me go with you, captain."
"No," the captain replied. "This one's mine." With that, he strode down the hill and halfway up the other side to within twenty yards of the cloud, which had not moved from its spot, but seemed to be patiently awaiting Zaraki's approach.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
There was no response.
"I said, who are you?" Zaraki repeated, taking a daunting step forward.
But still he was met with silence – no reaction at all.
"Well, if you're not going to answer me, then I guess I'll have to rephrase the question." He drew his sword.
Watching him from the slope behind, Yumichika commented," Already drawing his sword – so like the captain."
"I wish I were over there with him," Ikkaku said. "That thing gives me the creeps."
"It is ugly, isn't it?" Yumichika agreed. "And it feels . . . sinister."
Ikkaku gave him a somewhat surprised look. "You can feel that thing? Its reiatsu?"
Yumichika narrowed his eyes. "It is reiatsu, but it's so twisted, I can't . . . it doesn't feel like any reiatsu I've ever encountered before. It's much more powerful than the last time I encountered it."
"What does it feel like?" Ikkaku asked.
Yumichika hesitated, trying to find the best word. At last, he settled on, "Lust."
"Lust? Did you say lust? What kind of shit is that?"
"A lust for hatred and . . . I don't know. I can't put my finger on it, but that thing is . . . full of hate," Yumichika said in a puzzled voice.
Ikkaku was pensive for a moment. He wasn't surprised that Yumichika was able to sense certain things that he was not. Yumichika had always been an ideal receptor for sensations and energies that others missed. But he had not forgotten that Yumichika had almost lost his life to this thing, had been frozen in place, mesmerized . . . and if were grown more powerful now, that might put Yumichika in greater danger.
Ikkaku returned his attention to Zaraki on the slope. The cloud was completely undisturbed by the introduction of the sword. And when Zaraki, in a lightening fast lunge, drove towards the creature, Ikkaku felt confident that the battle would be short-lived.
He was wrong.
In a flash of black light, the cloud contracted into a single compact entity. Its diffuse darkness was replaced with a coal-black solid body, broad and sinewy and , standing at least ten feet tall. Its skin, smooth like oil, rippled and roiled like a grassy field blown by the wind. The lower part of its body split into many tentacle-like legs, while the upper part, double-thoraxed, sprouted multiple twitching, pincer-like arms. There was a head but with no discernible facial features, although a faint yellowish glow pulsated in the center of the head mass.
The creature extended one of its arms which instantaneously took on the shape of a sword and parried the attack without effort.
Zaraki took a step back. "That's a neat trick. I wonder what else you can do."
Again, he attacked, bringing his sword down from overhead this time.
Another easy deflection.
Zaraki engaged fully now, swinging and hacking, and all the time, laughing maniacally at his failures. Then something unexpected happened. Several of the arms, seven or eight, elongated and separated into individual entities, each taking on the shape of their progenitor.
"Ah, now that's more like it!" Ikkaku crowed with a gleam in his eye. He turned to the rest of the squad. "Now, there's enough for everyone! This is where we come in!" Then, with deference to Yachiru, "Right, Lieutenant?"
"That's right, baldy!"
And with that, the Eleventh Division leapt into the fray. Within seconds, however, the excitement turned to horror. It became clear that the creatures' mode of attack was to use their lower tentacles to ensnare their victims who, within a matter of seconds, dissolved into thin air.
Yumichika knew the manner of attack all too well. He had seen this creature in action before.
But that wasn't all. This was also Ruri'iro Kujaku's preferred manner of combat. Ensnare and siphon. These creatures were sucking the reiatsu out of the victims, and any attempt to injure them met with the mutation of a body part into a weapon.
Warning shouts went up but were of no avail. It was nearly impossible to avoid the tentacles, for once they reached the length of their extension, they simply broke loose and formed a new creature.
Given the similar abilities of Ruri'iro Kujaku and the enemy, Yumichika wondered if his zanpakuto might be able to shed some light on the nature of the creature.
If he could lure one of them away . . .
It turned out that he didn't need to try. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a tentacle shooting in towards him. He dodged just in time and turned to see one of the creatures heading for him. Unlike the first encounter at the mouth of the cave below the sand dunes, this time, Yumichika did not fall into a trance. He considered that he had grown as a warrior and was much more in control of himself and his faculties than he had been. He needn't be afraid of facing this creature alone.
"Perfect!" he said to himself. "Now, let's see if it will follow me."
Not only did it follow, but it nearly overtook him. Even using shunpo, Yumichika was astounded when the creature matched his every move. He found himself in a fully defensive posture, but he was not worried. Soon, he would be out of sight and able to use shikai.
He was successful in luring the creature to an isolated area; and now that he had done so, he had no intention of dithering around. The idea of bringing Ruri'iro Kujaku out in this place did not worry him. He was certainly alone.
"Sakikirue, Ruri'iro Kujaku." Yumichika gave the command in a steady voice, despite the creature's concentrated effort to ensnare him.
They were not words that the peacock heard very often, and so he did not hesitate.
In a flash of azure light, Ruri'iro Kujaku came to life.
"How the hell do we stop these things?!"
Ikkaku looked at the frantic Shinigami beside him. He should have known the man's name – they were both in the same division after all, but Ikkaku was not big on names – or faces for that matter.
"Who cares?!" he replied jubilantly. "Just enjoy the battle!"
Not far from him, he could hear the laughter of his captain. And it pleased him to think they were so much alike. The fact that his division was not winning and many soul reapers were succumbing to the creatures' tentacles hardly seemed to matter. And it never struck Ikkaku that his indifference was odd or callous.
So, he fought on, impervious to the wounds he was accumulating. As long as he didn't get caught, he could fight forever. And then, it occurred quite by accident – a random jab pierced one of the creatures' heads and the glowing ball within. There was an explosion of jumbled reiatsu, and when the dust had settled and Ikkaku scrambled to his feet, the creature was gone.
"That's it," he said under his breath, then louder. "That's it! That's it! You can destroy them by piercing the ball in their heads!"
The word spread quickly, although dealing the death blow was not so easy. The creatures seemed to anticipate attacks to the head, and they were quick not only to defend but to seize any opening on their attackers' parts.
More Shinigami fell.
Eager to be praised for his discovery, Ikkaku turned to looked for Yumichika. Not seeing him, he felt a moment of panic. Had Yumichika fallen? Damn it! He had intended to keep an eye on him, knowing his previous encounter with the creature; but then his own lust for battle had burst upon him, and he'd lost all awareness of anything else. He calmed himself long enough to search for Yumichika's reiatsu. He found it right away, and it pummeled him with its power. Ikkaku had intensified his own senses before in order to sense someone else's reiatsu, but this time it was as if he'd been hit by a tidal wave.
That is was Yumichika's reiatsu was unquestionable – the exotic sultriness of it was proof enough – but this was mind-boggling. Never before had Ikkaku felt such power coming from Yumichika. It actually frightened him. Suddenly, he felt the need to find him, to make sure he was all right, to find out what was going on. He took one last look at Zaraki, envied him his reckless abandon, and set off in the direction of Yumichika's reiatsu.
All hell had broken loose the moment Yumichika had released Ruri'iro Kujaku. It was as if the zanpakuto and the creature, recognizing each other as possessing the same abilities, had cast aside all restraint and immediately gone for each other. This, Yumichika realized, was the very same recognition and attraction that had happened in the cave. The cloud, in its nascent stages, even then had known it was facing a power akin to its own, a threat to be countered and eliminated.
Now, the glowing green and azure vines of Ruri'iro Kujaku reached and twisted about the black tentacles with a force that Yumichika had known even existed in his zanpakuto. He could not control the weapon, and in fact, had been knocked flat on his back at its release. He'd kept his grip on the hilt, and now he was back on his feet, struggling with both hands to hold on.
The wicked energy emanating from the creature flared, and the yellow light in the head deepened to crimson. It sent a chill rattling through Yumichika's body. There was something so evil, so insidious in the creature's energy that Yumichika felt himself sinking into despondency, and although he knew he was succumbing, just as he had last time, he was powerless to stop it. Ruri'iro Kujaku was doing all the fighting; Yumichika was just hanging on. He teetered and dropped to one knee beneath the dark weight of the energy.
"Ruri'iro . . . Kujaku . . ." His words were breathless.
He felt a spasm ripple through the air around him. Maybe it had been in his body, as well. It was like a constriction that was over no sooner than it had started. Barely conscious and with Ruri'iro Kujaku still clutched in his hand, Yumichika collapsed to the ground as a cloud of black dust settled around him.
He felt something wrap around his wrist. Slowly, his senses began to clear, and his energy returned. He sat up. Ruri'iro Kujaku was glowing quietly in his hand, the retracted vines still undulating gently like plants in the tide.
"Idiot!" The chastising voice was inside his head, but clear as a bell.
He could not argue with his zanpakuto. He had been an idiot.
"Did you think that monster was going to let you observe it? Or that I could have a nice friendly chat with it?! You saw how it attacked right away once you called me out; it knew I had the same power, and it didn't want me taking all the reiatsu it's gathered—"
"But you defeated it—"
"Almost at the cost of losing you," Ruri'iro chastised.
Yumichika knit his brows. "I don't understand."
"Of course you don't. You're still like a child! Has that beastly division sucked all your brains out?" Ruri'iro scolded. "The reason you could feel that thing's energy is because it's the same kind of energy you have – the same kind I have."
This idea disgusted Yumichika. "What do you mean by that?"
"It's an energy that can feed off the energy of others, but the difference is . . . I may take others' reiatsu, but I can still generate my own. That thing needs the reiatsu of others to survive, to keep growing."
Yumichika shook his head. "That thing had a heavy, aggressive energy, a wicked energy. I refuse to believe my reiatsu is like that."
"It's the same nature, not the same character. But that's not my point. When I started draining that thing of its energy, it was still able to crush you. You were sinking, so I had to absorb all its energy at once." Seeing his master's blank stare, he went on, "I hate doing that because it overwhelms you. You're still not strong or experienced enough to wield me properly."
"But if you absorbed so much dark energy—"
"There's no such thing as dark energy or evil energy. Reiatsu is reiatsu. It's only the motives and intentions of the bearer that make it evil or good. That's why you've always been able to take some of my energy to heal yourself – no matter whose reiatsu I've absorbed."
Yumichika felt like the child he'd been accused of being. It occurred to him that he could have learned all these things long ago if only he'd had the courage to embrace his zanpakuto. He felt foolish.
"Did it hurt you to absorb that thing's energy?" he asked meekly.
"Hurt? No. Disgust? Yes. I hate coming into contact with anything ugly."
After a moment's hesitation, Yumichika offered humbly, "You saved me."
Ruri'iro could not believe how thick-headed his master could be. "Why are you surprised? Isn't that what we zanpakuto are supposed to do? Keep our masters alive? Of course, I saved you. You're still so naive that you need someone to watch out for you."
It was mild patronization, but Yumichika knew it was well-meant. He could hardly believe it, but for the first time in decades, he felt something other than animosity towards the peacock.
He gave a one-sided grin. "I never thought you'd be that someone."
"I've always been that someone, but I can only do it when you let me." Ruri'iro paused. "Are you feeling better? I gave you some of my reiatsu earlier. Do you need more?"
"No," Yumichika replied. "You may return, Ruri'iro Kujaku."
The glowing vines receded into the hilt, and the cold metal of the sword reappeared.
Yumichika scabbarded the weapon, got to his feet, and prepared to return to the battle. His conversation with Ruri'iro Kujaku had given him fresh motivation. He could definitely sense a turn in their relationship – a turn for the better.
He began to head up the hill and stopped in his tracks. At the top of the rise before him stood Ikkaku. Yumichika hadn't even noticed his reiatsu, so engrossed had he been with Ruri'iro Kujaku and the creature.
He felt it now, but he could discern nothing from it. Just how much had Ikkaku seen? And if he had seen everything, what would his reaction be? This was a moment Yumichika had long feared, but he was not yet convinced that it was a moment whose time had come.
He drew in a deep breath and continued up the hill.
Ikkaku spoke immediately once Yumichika was within hearing distance. His voice was low and guarded.
"You defeated your enemy?"
Yumichika, despite his unease, smiled as if it were all in a day's work. "It was easy."
"I'll bet it was," Ikkaku acknowledged, regarding him with scrutiny. "You don't have a scratch on you."
Yumichika heard something in Ikkaku's voice that gave him pause. There was a coldness, an almost accusative tenor that took a bit of the edge off Yumichika's usual cockiness.
"Well, there never is, is there? You know I—I would never allow anything to happen that would mar my perfect beauty," he said, maintaining his aloofness on the surface only.
"Yeah." Ikkaku's curt, brusque response increased Yumichika's concern, but Ikkaku's next words dropped like cement blocks around his ankles. "It looked like you had a little help."
"Help?" Yumichika managed to squeeze out after several seconds' hesitation, a terrible fear forming in the pit of his stomach.
Ikkaku waited a long time before speaking again. "Is there something you want to tell me?"
Yumichika's mind was racing. Ikkaku had definitely seen something, but how much? Yumichika had to be careful how he proceeded.
"No," he replied. "Why do you ask?"
Ikkaku did not reply but only stared at Yumichika with an expression of such . . . what was it? It was a look Yumichika had never seen before.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I saw you." Ikkaku's voice was hard as stone. "I saw you fighting. I saw how you defeated your enemy."
Yumichika was still and silent. He could not have spoken even if he'd had an idea what to say. He'd felt terror before – that much was certain – but this was an altogether different matter. This was a sense of unavoidable disaster – and this time, there would be no one to fall back on, no one to turn to. His greatest support—perhaps his only support—hung in the balance.
"Are you still sure you have nothing to tell me?" Ikkaku pressed. But when he was met again with silence, a bitter glare crept into his eye. "So, even now, after I've told you that I saw what happened, you still won't come clean? You're going to keep on lying to me. Why should anything change after all these years, right?"
"I didn't lie," Yumichika said in a near-whisper.
"You hid the truth from me," Ikkaku shot back. "That's the same thing."
"Ikkaku—"
"It's bad enough you kept your bankai hidden all this time, but it's worse that the nature of that bankai is kido!" Ikkaku stormed a few paces away then turned and fixed him with eyes blazing like fire. "You're in the Eleventh Division! You knew the rules about kido, and yet you went ahead and cultivated a kido-based bankai! You deceived all of us."
Yumichika drew in a steadying breath and said softly, "That wasn't my bankai. That was the true form of my shikai, Ruri'iro Kujaku."
Ikkaku stared at him in bafflement. "What?"
"I haven't even started to learn bankai. I can barely control him in shikai." He frowned in exhausted resignation. "He does as he pleases. He's more the master than I am. We've hated each other for so long, we'll never achieve bankai. We've only just started to make amends."
"That—that was your shikai?" Ikkaku's voice was unintentionally incredulous.
Yumichika nodded with averted eyes.
"Then . . . Fuji Kujaku . . . "
"Was only a partial release," Yumichika explained. "I knew how things were in the Eleventh Division. I knew you and the captain wouldn't understand, so I—I started, before you and I ever came to the Seireitei—I started calling my zanpakuto Fuji Kujaku, because I knew he hated it, and it was the only way I could suppress his true form. He couldn't understand why I did it, and he hated me for it. And I—I hated him, because he wasn't what I wanted."
Ikkaku had not got his head around the idea that the power he had just witnessed was shikai – and an inexperienced one at that – much less the entire explanation of a shinigami's estrangement from his own zanpakuto. As much as he hated to admit it, the whole thing was a bit humbling.
And disturbing.
What kind of power did Yumichika possess that had not been even remotely tapped? And was that power also kido-based? Yes, of course it was. It was plain as day now: Yumichika was kido-based.
"How long have you been able to do that?" he asked at last.
"To do what?"
"Bring forth that—that thing."
"Since Venla," came the soft-spoken answer.
"Since Venla?" Ikkaku could barely speak, he was so stunned. "You've been able to do that since Venla? And you've managed to keep it hidden all this time?"
"You were gone a lot, and Ruri'iro Kujaku kept me company. We trained together every day, and he taught me so much . . . we had fun together in those days. I—I was excited about showing him to you, but then things changed. You left before I could introduce you, and after that, I knew you'd never be able to accept him. And then Kenpachi Zaraki came along and the Gotei 13. If I wanted to stay with you, I couldn't let anyone know about Ruri'iro Kujaku."
Ikkaku grit his teeth. "I don't believe this. All this time . . . " He fixed Yumichika with a piercing gaze. "What does that thing do? It looked like it was draining that creature of all its spirit energy."
Yumichika's silence was confirmation enough.
"Your zanpakuto drains others of their spirit energy?"
Yumichika nodded once.
"That's a disgusting way to fight," Ikkaku ground out.
"That's why I tried to keep him hidden, to keep him from fully releasing—"
"It doesn't matter if you keep it hidden," Ikkaku cut him off. "That doesn't change the truth. Your zanpakuto is kido-based – and not just that, but a form of kido that feeds off the energy of others." He stopped and stared with a realization. "How could I have been so blind all these years? I—I was just a stupid idiot! That's what you must have thought, right? It's so clear now! That thing—that thing is just like you! I get it now—the way you could mesmerize people just by looking at them. You drained them of their wills—"
"It's not like that—"
"That's exactly what it is!" Ikkaku persisted. There was a long pause, and when he spoke again, his voice was shaking. "And I was too dumb to realize it. All these years . . . I should have seen the truth." He pinned Yumichika with a look of such pain and anger, such betrayal as Yumichika had never thought possible. "You aren't who I thought you were. I feel like I don't even know you anymore." He turned and started to walk away.
"Ikkaku!" Yumichika cried out. "Ikkaku, please! Don't walk away from me!" He rushed to walk beside him. "I didn't want to deceive you, but I had no choice! I knew you—you wouldn't approve of him, so—"
"Wouldn't approve?'' Ikkaku stopped walking and faced Yumichika. "Wouldn't approve? You think this is about approval? You don't get it at all. This is about you. It's about what you are."
Yumichika shuddered. "What I am?"
"Your energy, your spirit . . . it's all kido. And you can't change that. You're not like the rest of us in the division, and you never can be." He closed his eyes as if in pain. "Lying about your power is the least of the things wrong here."
Yumichika realized he was trembling. "What do you mean?"
"You're not—you're not of the same nature as the rest of us. You don't belong in the Eleventh Division."
"Don't say that," Yumichika pleaded. "I—you never would have known if you hadn't seen me—"
"It doesn't matter, Yumichika. You're who you are. But you're not who we thought you were. You just . . . you don't belong." He started to walk away again. "Not in Zaraki's division, anyway. You need to find someplace else."
Yumichika was panicked. "You can't mean that."
"I do mean it."
"What—what are you going to do? Are you going to tell the captain?"
"I'm not going to say anything to anyone," Ikkaku replied. "I want to put this whole thing behind me."
Yumichika had never felt so desperate in his life. "What about me? I need—I need you to forgive me."
Ikkaku grimaced. "It's not about forgiveness. It's about moving on from here and putting our acquaintance behind us."
"Our . . . acquaintance? What about our friendship?" Yumichika asked.
Ikkaku was cold. "There is no friendship anymore."
Yumichika could not move. Ikkaku's words seared into his brain and burned a hole through his heart. He could only stare as Ikkaku walked away. No words, no thoughts would come into his head. The only thing he could feel was a horrible sense that everything had come to an end.
He dropped to his knees. That was as far as he would allow his composure to deteriorate. He feared if he let his emotions go too far, he would give away to others the secret that Ikkaku had vowed to keep.
He didn't know it was already too late.