A much more recent tumblr fic title prompt, prompted by thisgreysilhouette over on tumblr! The middle portion of this one changed somewhat dramatically, tbh, and about 600 more words got added. I think I like the change, but it's certainly more violent than what was originally there. Ah well.
Find me on tumblr: akaluan tumblr com for more fics and updates
Wary and curious Shinigami peered through the open gate into the Fifth Division's courtyard, blocking Jyuushiro from seeing whatever was happening beyond them. He could see insignias from every division, even the Eleventh, and had spotted no fewer than six Seated Officers without trouble.
Whatever was happening in the courtyard beyond, no one seemed inclined to intervene.
"Lead on," Shunsui murmured when Jyuushiro shot him a questioning look.
(Sometimes, Jyuushiro wished he didn't have quite the reputation of a peace-maker.)
(But only when Shunsui used that reputation to get out of doing his own work.)
Jyuushiro sighed and moved forward, wading through the crowd with Shunsui close on his heels. He emerged into a stand-off, complete with flaring reiatsu and even more watchers. Many of the division's members were lining the edges of the courtyard, wary and frozen in place, clearly attempting to stay out of the confrontation in front of them.
Their focus was a group of five near the center of the courtyard, one of which was on the ground and being held in place by another's foot between his shoulder-blades and sharply focused reiatsu. Hirako-taicho was another of the five, and stood with his perpetual smile missing and a hand on the hilt of his zanpakutou.
"Yeah, see, ya still ain't convinced me," Hirako said coldly, fingers tightening on his blade's hilt. "So if ya could let my Lieutenant up an' stop threatening ta kill him?"
"Tch, ain't no threat," the white haired stranger shot back. "Aibo, c'mon, jes get it o'er wit' a'fore this slime wriggles free."
Jyuushiro paused and narrowed his eyes, gaze moving between Hirako and the three strangers. Shunsui stopped at his side, hand reaching up to tip his sakkat up and head tilting minutely in puzzlement.
"Curious," Shunsui murmured, sharing a look with him. "Very curious."
All three of the strangers wore a Captain's haori, and all of them bore the insignia of the Fifth. If Jyuushiro were to believe his eyes, there were currently four Captains in front of him, all for the same division.
(Impostors? Who would bother trying to pretend to be a Captain?)
The stranger pinning Aizen-fukutaicho had bright orange hair and wore the traditional white haori, sans sleeves. To his left, the white haired stranger wore an inverted haori, black with white lettering, and to his left stood the third, the black haired man's attention focused on Aizen and his haori a deep blue with white lettering.
And none of them felt more than vaguely familiar.
(But they all felt similar. Triplets, perhaps?)
Shunsui took a few more steps forward and cleared his throat, pulling most of their attention to him. "Maa, what seems to be the problem here?"
(Except for the man in the blue haori, who didn't even spare Shunsui a glance. That was… concerning.)
Hirako's expression twisted with fury, and he stabbed a finger at the Shinigami pinning Aizen to the ground. "These three just appeared outta nowhere, saw Aizen-fukutaicho, and decided to attack without warning!"
"He's a goddamn traitor and I'm trying to save your fucking life," the Shinigami snarled back, leaning forward and pressing more of his weight onto Aizen.
He didn't seem concerned at the way Aizen wheezed under the increased pressure and scrabbled at the ground, desperately trying to push himself up. Marks of struggle surrounded Aizen from previous failed attempts, and Jyuushiro hastily stepped forward, hands out and open in a sign of peace.
"Please, Shinigami-san," Jyuushiro began, hoping he could calm everything down. "Please. We're willing to listen to your words, but—"
The Shinigami turned to face him full on, and Jyuushiro's words fled in shock. But for the hair-color and the dark scowl, it was like staring down Kaien in one of his more focused moods.
"What— oh." The Shinigami rolled his eyes and waved a hand absently, his tone bored as he recited, "Yes, I know, I supposedly look like Shiba Kaien— wait, is he dead yet? Did we show up before or after this asshole set that annoying experimental Hollow after him?"
"I— pardon?" Jyuushiro forced out, looking to Shunsui in confusion and a touch of panic. Shiba Kaien… dead? But he'd only just begun to convince the other to be his Lieutenant! "He's alive—"
"Good. That's even better."
"I think," Shunsui cut in before the stranger could say anything else, "that some names would be appreciated, Shinigami-san."
The orange-haired Shinigami shrugged. "Sure, why not. Kurosaki Ichigo. That's Kurosaki Shiro, and that's Kurosaki Zangetsu. We're from, uh…"
"A little over fourteen decades in the future, I estimate," Kurosaki Zangetsu finished, tone matter-of-fact. He looked up from Aizen long enough to tip his head to Jyuushiro and Shunsui in greeting, eyes partially hidden behind his brown-tinted sunglasses.
(Perhaps not triplets, then. Not with how much older Kurosaki Zangetsu appeared. But siblings for certain. Half-siblings? It could explain the strange variances between their reiatsu that he couldn't pin down.)
Hirako scoffed and squared his shoulders, glaring between the three brothers. "Stop trying to sell that damn story!"
"It's not a story!" Kurosaki Ichigo snapped back.
"Maa, maa, no need to get testy," Shunsui said soothingly, while gesturing sharply for Hirako to back off. "Why don't you tell us how you got here, if you know?"
"Hat'n'Clogs did it," Kurosaki ichigo said, as if the answer should be obvious.
"They ain't gunna know him by that name, Aibo," Kurosaki Shiro drawled, then flashed Shunsui a sharp smile. "Urahara Kisuke, tha' damn mad scientist, is who Aibo means."
('Aibo'? What an odd nickname to give a brother…)
Jyuushiro gave himself a mental shake and tried to pin down the name. Were they discussing the Second Division's Third Seat? As far as he knew, however, that Urahara wasn't a 'mad scientist', though. "And how did he manage to send you back so far?"
"And was it on purpose?" Shunsui added, glancing down at Aizen then back up at the brothers.
"Hell if I know," Kurosaki Ichigo said with a shrug. "No one ever knows why Hat'n'Clogs does the shit he does, probably not even Yoruichi. She just rolls with it better than the rest of us cause of exposure."
(So, he was probably thinking of the correct Shinigami, then, given the ties to Shihoin Yoruichi.)
"Who gives a fuck whether he meant ta do it?" Kurosaki Shiro asked incredulously, rolling his eyes. He stepped forward a bit more, nudging Aizen's side with his foot. "We get ta deal with a traitor a'fore any a'that fuckin' shit goes down. Good enough fer me."
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Hirako snarled, blade singing as he yanked it from its sheath. He lunged, not at Kurosaki Shiro like Jyuushiro had expected, but at Kurosaki Zangetsu. Who had apparently used the discussion and their focus on his brothers in order to kneel at Aizen's head without anyone noticing.
Deep blue reiatsu shone around Kurosaki Zangetsu's hands, and Jyuushiro moved.
(He wasn't going to be quick enough. Kami, whatever Kurosaki Zangetsu was attempting to do, Jyuushiro wasn't going to be fast enough to stop.)
Jyuushiro barely had time to notice the way Kurosaki Shiro barreled into Hirako, an inhuman growl tearing from his throat. Barely had time to notice the cold gaze that Kurosaki Ichigo leveled upon him, before suddenly he couldn't breathe.
The packed dirt of the courtyard was cold and hard under Jyuushiro's body, as he curled in on himself and struggled to breathe through the pressure crushing him to the ground. He couldn't rise. Couldn't even raise his head.
His chest burned. Already he could feel a cough coming. Could feel his body beginning to rebel.
(Damn. Kami damn it all. Not now!)
Jyuushiro carefully pushed with his own reiatsu, trying to give himself a bit of freedom. Not enough to challenge Kurosaki Ichigo, but enough to let him breathe. Enough to ease the pressure on his chest and let him uncurl. Enough that he could straighten his body and stave off the attack for a while longer.
Kurosaki Zangetsu's reiatsu flared share-vicious-vindictive, strong enough to be felt even over the crushing weight of his brother's reiatsu. And like a candle being snuffed out, all trace of Aizen's reiatsu ceased as if it had never been.
"It is done," Kurosaki Zangetsu announced as he rose.
"The fuck did you do?!" Hirako shouted. "Asshole, let me up! What did you do?!"
"Made certain he could never become the same threat to you that he did to us," Kurosaki Zangetsu answered.
The reiatsu pinning him to the ground lightened, and Jyuushiro pushed himself to his feet, careful not to aggravate his body any further. His body ached and his chest felt too tight, but he had his duty.
(Hopefully Shunsui wouldn't scold him too much… neither of them had expected that to happen.)
"What if our world is inherently different from yours?" Jyuushiro prompted. "If you've just cast judgment down on an innocent man?"
"Doubt it," Kurosaki Ichigo said with a shrug, then gestured towards one of the walls, where a young Shinigami was watching them with sharp eyes. "Yo, Ichimaru Gin. C'mere."
Jyuushiro wondered what the recent prodigy had to do with anything, even as Shunsui returned to his side and set a warm hand on his back in silent question.
"I'll be fine," he murmured in reassurance.
Shunsui huffed and shot Kurosaki Ichigo a sour look that the man didn't see. "We'll see. To Unohana with you, after this."
He grimaced, but inclined his head in acceptance. At the very least, she could probably do something about the way the rest of his body felt, after being slammed to the ground by such unexpected strength.
(And what control Kurosaki Ichigo must have, to neutralize himself, Hirako, and Shunsui without overly affecting most of the Shinigami watching.)
"Revenge?" Kurosaki Ichigo asked the boy bluntly, ignoring Ichimaru's assessing stare.
Ichimaru looked down at Aizen and the way the man had finally been allowed to roll onto his side. Aizen was curled in on himself, hands pressed to his chest and breathing ragged, almost panicked. With a huff, Ichimaru looked back up at Kurosaki Ichigo and said, "Ya got in the way."
"Yeah, it doesn't really work out for you anyway," Kurosaki Ichigo replied with a shrug. "Good effort, even if you fucked up Matsumoto in the process, but he just shrugged it off, killed you, and kept going."
Ichimaru scowled and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring up at Kurosaki Ichigo. "Fine. Now what?"
The smile Kurosaki Ichigo gave sent dread down Jyuushiro's spine, as did the next words out of his mouth.
"How about you turn to the nice Captains and seal Aizen's fate?" he suggested.
Ichimaru's glare slowly morphed into a fox-grin as the boy considered Kurosaki Ichigo's suggestion, then turned to do exactly that.
(Jyuushiro didn't know if Seireitei would ever be the same again.)
(Nor did he know if that was precisely a bad thing…)