Free of bodily constraints, Ichigo could move freely over the rooftops. Where the gaps between buildings were too wide to jump, he simply thickened the air and sprinted on invisible paths. It would have been impossible for Rukia to keep up, burdened, as she was, with the gigai. "I'll carry you," he had said, and she might have objected, had she had any time to think about it, but she didn't. He took her weight easily. She'd flung one arm around his neck and he'd lifted her onto his back. With her other hand, she'd checked the hollow sensor.
"There," she had said, pointing in the direction the demon had taken. He had stepped out of his room into a warm summer's night and had begun to sprint along currents of air.
She wanted to ask him: how did you know what to do? How did you know how to fight? When did you learn to walk on the air? So many things. But she concentrated, instead, on reading the information from the sensor and maintaining her one-handed grip on his shoulders. She had wrapped one arm around his neck and knotted her hand into the front of his shihakusho. She could feel his heart beating in his chest and his breath against her arm.
"That's Orihime's house," he said when the sensor recorded that they were almost upon the hollow. "Rukia?"
"Yes?"
"I'll go on alone." He dropped down from the rooftop, thickening the air just enough that he landed gently on the road below: "There's no point in you coming with me."
"No. You need me."
"If I have to protect Orihime, then it will be harder if I need to protect you to." Her mouth clamped shut at that. As much as it was the truth, it bruised her pride and, when he released his grip on her legs, she still clung doggedly to his neck:
"You can't fight it inside," she said into his ear.
"Then I'll lure it outside, okay?"
"Okay."
Reluctantly, she slid to the ground., stepping back as he drew his sword. "I won't be long," he said. Then he left her.
She stepped back, out of the road. It was a suburban street and there were lights on in nearby houses. She could hear the sounds of distant traffic and the low hum of powerlines, and she wrapped her arms about herself, feeling oddly conspicuous.
True to his word, though perhaps not in the manner he anticipated, Ichigo was not long in the house.
The exterior wall exploded outwards in an avalanche of mud and brick. Rukia ducked and ran, but not before she had time to see the boy's body flung clear over the wreckage. He didn't break his fall. If anything, she guessed he was already unconscious and she flinched as he struck the ground, the impact turning him over and over.
The hollow emerged from the building, like a snake from a basket. It was as tall as a house and as long as three, with a human body and a serpent's tail: a naga demon. Its face was, once more, completely covered by a bony mask, but this was framed by long, dark and all-too-human hair. In one of its clawed hands, it held the girl. At least, it held the girl's soul. Rukia could see the chain that extended from her chest back into the building: the chain of fate that linked her soul to her body. It was not yet broken.
Rukia ran across the fallen bricks to wear Ichigo lay. To the hollow's eyes, she knew, she would appear to be only a human girl, while he, the main threat, was already subdued. She would need to act fast though.
Fortunately, he was already stirring when she reached him, moaning as if awoken from a deep sleep.
"Ichigo!" she called. He put one arm over his head to block out her voice: "Ichigo, get up! Get up, Ichigo!" There was a deep gash in his forehead and fresh blood pumping angrily into his eyes. When he looked at her, they failed to focus, but, even so, he lurched to his feet. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine."
They didn't have time to argue.
The demon lunged towards them both and, knowing better than to stand her ground, Rukia sprang out of the way. Ichigo deflected the impact with the flat of his blade, but lost his balance and pitched forward, catching himself by jamming the point of the katana into the ground. His weight hung on it briefly, then he sunk to his knees.
Get up, she willed him.
The demon crowed its victory and lunged forward.
Rukia saw, or believed she saw, its bony jaws snap shut over the hunched body of the boy. Yet, in the next instant, it raised its head and, instead of Ichigo, its teeth had closed around the body of the girl. Orihime had stepped between them. She had acted so quickly, Rukia hadn't seen her move.
The hollow could have crushed her with a single bite, but it didn't. Instead, it let her go and she fell onto the tarmac, just yards from Ichigo.
"Ni-san," she cried. Her eyes were clear, but full of tears: "Ni-san, please don't hurt him anymore. Please!" She reached forward and placed her hands on either side of its bone mask. "I'm sorry. I prayed to you every night, Ni-san, but I didn't see that I was keeping you here. I'm sorry I've hurt you so deeply, but please, please don't hurt him anymore."
The girl had sharp instincts. It was true. Some souls became corrupted by their ties to the world of the living: bonds of blood or passion or friendship. That he had once been her brother was no doubt the reason he had come for her tonight, but Rukia believed there was more to it than that. When Ichigo had broken its mask, there had been a human face beneath. Was it possible that there were still fragments of its original soul, safe and unbroken, inside that monster's body?
It wheeled backwards, the yellow light in its eyes wavering like a candle in a storm.
And, with one last howl of rage, it dove towards Ichigo.
He didn't try to stop it. Yet instead of attacking, its clawed hand only closed around his zanpakuto, wrenching it from his grip. He pitched forward, unconscious, as the demon slithered away, clutching his sword in both hands.
The theft seemed to rouse him. Rukia alone understood a shinigami's connection to their sword. To have it handled by another, let alone taken, would be experienced as a violation. Ichigo staggered to his feet.
Suddenly, Rukia knew how this would play out and she saw what she had to do.
She closed the distance between herself and Ichigo in barely two breaths, setting herself between the soul reaper and the demon. He stared at her disbelieving:
"What are you doing, Rukia?"
"It's alright," she said: "It's alright."
The hollow's mask was crumbling. Beneath, she could now see a human face. A human expression. A very human remorse. With one swift motion, the demon turned the zanpakuto about, so that the tip of the blade hung above its heart. Suddenly, its intention was all too clear. Ichigo started forward:
"He's going to" –
"I know. Let him."
"But" –
"It would seem he did not choose to be a hollow," she said: "It's very rare, but it's possible that others created him. He has recovered his humanity, but once a spirit has been hollowfied, it cannot go back. This is the only way."
"Wait." Orihime's voice broke into the silence. It was little more than a whisper as crawled forward, the chain binding her spirit to her body dragging on the ground: "Wait, Ni-san, there is something I need to tell you. That day, you had been to the shops and you bought me these hair clips." She touched the star-shaped pins she always wore: "I told you we were childish and we argued and, when you left that day, you never said good-bye. Please, let me say it now." The demon with her brother's face turned to look at her. Her voice was thick with emotion: "Take care, Ni-san, and have a good day."
"Yes," it said: "You too, Inoue. Have a good day. And I'll see you soon." With that, it plunged the blade into its heart.
Streamers of silvery blue light broke forth from its body as its form shimmered and broke apart. Rukia closed her eyes, willing herself not to see, and it was only when she heard a choked sob that she opened them again. Ichigo had staggered past her and retrieved his sword. His eyes were clear now, but his face was a mass of blood and bruises. Behind her, Orihime began to cry, a deep, wrenching sound.
Ichigo would not go to her, Rukia realised. Perhaps he was ashamed of her emotions or merely in too much pain to handle someone else's, but, in the space of a breath, Rukia went to the girl, knelt down and embraced her. Her grief was like a fire. Her body burned against Rukia's and grew heavier with every raking sob. Eventually, she collapsed forwards. Her breathing eased and the noise of her grief ceased. She lay unconscious in Rukia's arms.
"Will she be alright?" Ichigo asked.
"The chain of fate is still connected to her body. While it remains so, she is still alive." Her voice sounded cold, like common sense breaking through a dream. Ichigo nodded:
"Tatsuki was in the house with her. She's a schoolfriend."
"Was she hurt?"
"I think she's out cold."
"I'll heal Inoue. You fetch the other girl. And look to yourself, Ichigo," she said, as he began to limp away. He looked back over his shoulder, but only to scowl at her.
Healing took very little of her spiritual energy. She placed her hands on the girl's chest and a green glow emanated from her palms, spreading out across Inoue's body. After a minute or so, Rukia became aware of Ichigo watching her from the base of the stairs that led up to the house. He was holding another girl in his arms. Realising that Rukia had noticed him, he moved to where she was kneeling and gently laid Tatsuki on the ground. Inoue was stirring. Rukia reached into the pocket of her pyjamas and retrieved a thin metallic device, the tip of which glowed with an ethereal light. When Inoue opened her eyes, Ichigo pressed down on this and there was a flash of blue light. Inoue's eyes unfocussed and she seemed to fall again into unconsciousness.
"What's that?" Ichigo demanded.
"Memory replacement."
"Memory replacement?" When she didn't explain further, he shifted uneasily and said: "You used that on my family, didn't you? My father, my sisters; the other night, they thought a truck had crashed into the house."
"Yes, but you can't decide on the new memory."
"What does that mean?"
"Tomorrow, at school, you'll see."
