Author's Note I: Oneshot, ties in with my other works. Includes OCs.

Chasing Shadows

The slender young man seated in front of Captain Abarai's desk fidgeted nervously, hands clasped together in his lap with his thumbs restlessly moving around in circles as he waited for the interview to begin. Brown eyes anxiously darted around the room, drinking in every visible feature but the two officers in charge of the interrogation as he tapped his foot rapidly, his right leg bouncing up and down. Sweat had already begun to bead upon his forehead and a visible lump was present in his throat as the span of forty-five seconds stretched eternally forward into what surely felt like hours, perhaps even days.

Renji pitied the younger Soul Reaper in a way; were the situation reversed, he was pretty sure he'd be a nervous wreck, too.

All the same, he could not afford to show any pity or sympathy now.

To the Captain's right was his Lieutenant, one Ashido Kanō, and the all-too-serious officer was presently engaged in staring the younger Soul Reaper down in silence, making an already unpleasant situation even worse for the young man.

It was, however, something of a necessary evil; years ago, Renji had done the same during his tenure as Lieutenant of Squad 6 under Captain Byakuya Kuchiki.

The young man, Morihiro Otaka according to the file in front of Renji, was part of the newest group of graduates from the Soul Academy and unfortunately, young mister Otaka was one of the new Soul Reapers who found himself sitting in the General Pool of Recruits.

Upon graduation, there were three ways for a new Soul Reaper to be assigned to a post within the Gotei 13 and the General Pool was, without a doubt, the last and least-glamorous of them all.

The first method, the one often regarded as the most prestigious method, was to be hand-selected by a Captain. Sometimes this was done solely based on a candidate's family name or lineage, but most often it was done when the Academy officials alerted a particular Captain that they had a prospective Soul Reaper with talents that were favored for the squad in question: students who displayed an exceptional aptitude for stealth skills, for example, would have their files sent to Captain Sui-Feng of Squad 2 for review up to two and a half years before their actual graduation while students with a demonstrable proficiency for the healing arts and restorative kidō spells would have their files sent to Captain Retsu Unohana of Squad 4.

Only those with truly exceptional skills in a particular field received their appointments this way, making it a mark of honor to be specifically sought by a Captain. Many such recruits would be given their official letters of appointment weeks or even months in advance of their graduation and would assume their new duties the day after the ceremony. A lucky few even received appointment letters a full year in advance, making them the envy of their classmates.

The second and somewhat less-prestigious method was to actively apply to a select few squads and hope for acceptance; the Captain or the Lieutenant of each division would review all applicants and take a close look at their Academy scores, perhaps schedule an interview with the young prospect, and then make a decision to accept or reject the application based on their findings. Most of the average and slightly above average young Soul Reapers resorted to this method to secure a position somewhere, with some seventy percent finding acceptance through at least one application.

Those who found all of their outstanding applications summarily rejected ended up in the General Pool, a collection of recruits that no division particularly wanted because their scores were disappointingly-average or sub-par and from there they would be reluctantly chosen one at a time to fill out the remaining empty slots in random squads, sent to the Patrol Corps, or if they were exceptionally-unlucky, be sent to Squad 12 as "special research assistants" for Mayuri Kurotsuchi.

Mayuri's "special research assistants" often had lifespans measured in months instead of years.

As it was, Division 5 had three slots left to fill and with all of the most-desirable candidates already taken, it was time to fish in the General Pool to find the best fit for the remaining positions.

The silent, unnerving stare of Lieutenant Kanō was but one of many tools used to determine a potential recruit's worthiness as it gave both officers a chance to gauge how the prospective Soul Reaper reacted under pressure; no one wanted some overly-nervous kid who would crack and break down crying from the silent onslaught, which was unfortunately something that happened far too often.

Morihiro Otaka wasn't the calmest person Renji had ever interviewed, but neither was he the most-panicky; he was, all in all, an average kid with butterflies in his stomach as he waited for the impending interrogation to begin.

How long had he been waiting now? Two minutes? Three? Renji glanced at the clock on the wall just in time to see the hands turn to one-seventeen, making it five minutes that Morihiro had been subjected to the silent torture of waiting under Ashido's stern gaze.

Well, if he hadn't cracked by now, it was probably safe to begin the actual interview.

"So," began Captain Abarai slowly as he made a show of closing Morihiro's open file and sliding it off to the side as if he were completely disinterested in the contents, "can you give me a good reason why Division 5 needs you?"

Morihiro blinked, momentarily confused by the fact that someone was finally speaking to him, and he swallowed nervously as he looked for his voice.

"Because…because I want to be a Soul Reaper…" he said finally, still fidgeting.

"Technically, you already are," the tattooed Captain corrected him. "Graduation from the Academy makes you a Soul Reaper; this interview is to determine whether or not you're fit to be in my squad."

"I am!" said Morihiro quickly, scooting forward in his seat by about an inch. "I mean, Yes, Sir, I believe I am fit to serve under you."

"And why exactly is that?" questioned Renji, folding his hands on the desk in front of him. "What do you have to offer Squad 5 that I can't find elsewhere?"

"You mean like special skills?"

"Yes, like special skills…" answered the elder shinigami dryly.

"…I don't actually have any special abilities…" admitted Morihiro, looking down at his feet sadly. "I mean, I realize I'm in the General Pool because nobody really wants me; I'm average at best, and an abject failure at worst."

"Failures don't graduate," Renji reminded him. "Your scores are low, but they were enough to pass, which means you're not a failure."

Morihiro looked up and smiled as Renji continued.

"Sure, you may have just barely passed—"

The smiled quickly faded.

"—but a passing grade is a passing grade. Now you need to find a way to sell yourself to me, make me want you in my squad. I'll give you credit for being honest and realistic about your placement, but your lack of confidence is killing you right now."

"I'm sorry, Sir," apologized Morihiro, bowing his head.

"I don't want an apology; I want improvement," Renji chided him firmly. "I want you to give me a reason, any reason, to consider accepting you into my squad. I want to know why you, specifically, are a better choice than any of the other prospects in the General Pool eagerly waiting for a chance to prove themselves."

Ashido, meanwhile, continued to stare at the young man, a silent, unmoving statue whose sole purpose was to keep the kid on edge.

Morihiro fell silent for a moment as he considered how best to answer the Captain, finally able to block out the Lieutenant's unerring gaze now that he had to defend himself.

"I'm a better choice because I want to be a Soul Reaper more than anyone else," he said finally.

"We've been over this," Renji sighed irritably. "If you graduated the Academy, you already are a Soul Reaper."

"I mean, I want this more than anyone else…" Morihiro tried to explain clumsily, grasping for a way to convey his feelings to the two officers on the other side of the desk. "Ever since I was a kid, all I've ever wanted was to be a Soul Reaper and every choice I've ever made has been towards that end."

"Why?" pressed Renji, leaning forward. "That's not exactly a unique story; there are probably at least a dozen other people in the General Pool who will say the exact same thing. What makes your story special? Why did you decide to become a Soul Reaper?"

Silence again.

"Because…" the young man said finally, "I'm chasing a shadow."

Renji arched an eyebrow. "Explain."

"I grew up in East 80," said Morihiro slowly. "I'm sure you know how much rougher the Rukon gets the farther you are from the Seireitei…"

"I'm from South 78, Hanging Dog," Renji nodded. "So yes, I'm very familiar with how destitute the Rukon can be."

"East 80 is a slum…" Morihiro explained. "A lot of people look down on the 78th and 79th districts, but those are paradises compared to an 80th district; it's pretty much a lawless area where only might makes right."

"And you wanted to have the might…" Renji said, frowning.

"No!" answered Morihiro sharply, the look on his face suggesting he was offended by the Captain's assumption.

"Oh?"

I was just a kid when it happened…" explained the younger man. "A group of bandits had been terrorizing the populace for months, steadily growing in size and strength and ambition… Thievery and murder was nothing new to the region, and nothing new for them, but one day they decided to raid the village and kidnap all the children they could find, to raise them as slaves and press them into service in their little bandit army…"

"Animals…" growled Renji, his disgust obvious. "I've heard of that happening on occasion, but I've never met anyone who was actually subjected to it before… How did you escape?"

"That's just it," Morihiro said with a soft smile. "I didn't escape: I was rescued."

"By a Soul Reaper…" Renji finished for him, finally understanding.

"I swore to myself that I would be a man like him when I grew up," the recruit nodded. "Not a bandit, not a slaver, and not a monster who preyed on the weak; I wanted to be the guy that protected the weak."

"What was his name?"

"I…I don't know…" came the forlorn, shame-filled answer. "I never thought to ask him at the time and I never even got a chance to thank him; he saved all of us, took us home, and then slipped away while our parents were all busy hugging us and crying."

"Did he have any identifying features?" pressed Renji.

"His zanpaktou was black… When he released it, it was solid black."

"Doesn't narrow it down much… Could be the late Lieutenant Kira, could be Lieutenant Hisagi, or any one of two dozen other people I've known over the years; black shikai forms aren't overly common, but they're not exactly rare, either. Could be someone I've never even heard of before."

"I remember he called out the sword's name… It's been etched into my memory ever since I heard it."

"That's something more substantial," Renji nodded. "Wabisuke? Kazeshini?"

Morihiro shook his head.

"Kage Shitsukoi."

Lieutenant Kanō finally turned his gaze away from the recruit, looking instead at his Captain with a silent question in his eyes. Renji gave him a small nod and the officer quietly excused himself from the office as a suddenly-interested Renji leaned forward and waited for the story to begin.


-East 80, 56 Years Ago-

There was a sense of peace to be found on lonely sojourn missions out in the Rukon that simply couldn't be experienced anywhere else in the Soul Society; there was no Captain or Lieutenant to be found barking orders, no over-eager Soul Reapers trying too hard to impress those in charge, no slackers lounging about drinking, no set schedule on when to do anything or where to be…

Really, it was about as close to heaven as one could hope for.

If there was one black mark marring the entire experience, though, it would likely be the 80th Districts, the lawless areas of the Rukon where there existed no real rules other than "survival of the fittest."

All manner of bandits and cutthroats called the fringes of the Rukon home and while most had the good sense to leave an armed Soul Reaper alone, there were always a few fools who were too eager to test their might in the vain hope that besting a Soul Reaper would earn them passage to the Seireitei and a better life.

Anrak Ushii had little interest in fighting the dregs of the Rukon.

At the urging of his conscience, he had joined the Gotei 13 to help protect souls, mostly from hollows and the darker things from the various shadow realms that preyed upon innocents. Sure, fighting a skilled, intelligent opponent could be a thrill, but he could hardly call any of the amateurs out here "skilled" or "intelligent" warriors and beyond that, these were supposed to be the people the shinigami protected.

He wore his zanpaktou on his left hip, the angle of the sheathed sword positioned in an aggressive and threatening posture meant to keep most of the would-be warriors at bay as he made his way through the slums of East 80. A few furtive glances were cast his way as he strode through the simple dirt streets, but so far no one had been foolish enough to try and challenge him.

Hell, even the few hollows that managed to infiltrate the Soul Society generally avoided the 80th Rukon districts, apparently favoring the taste of souls from the more-civilized districts over the dirty, rag-wearing scavengers out here.

The thin, wiry-built shinigami had been volunteering for sojourn missions into the Rukon for decades now, hoping with each trip that he might be reunited with his friend, mentor, and adopted sister, Yoruichi Shihōin, but there was no chance the Princess of the Shihōin Clan would be hiding out in such a bleak and depressing place as East 80.

Well, he'd finish his sweep through here and then head to South 80, and from there work his way back up through all southern districts back to the Seireitei itself.

If you'd made a pass at her before she left, she probably would have taken you with her…

"Hush, you," growled Anrak irritably. "I don't need your input about my sister.."

Oh, you need my input more than you know, baka; if you only realized how much easier your life would be by simply accepting that I'm ALWAYS right. Also, she's not really your sister.

Kage Shitsukoi, the Unrelenting Shadow, was certainly a mouthy zanpaktou, and moody to boot; she liked to nag and harass him frequently, and then on the few occasions when he actually wanted to converse with her, the bitchy spirit would often withdraw and say nothing, leaving Anrak with an ominous feeling of dread creeping down his spine as the only answer to his questions.

Would that he could, he would trade Kage Shitsukoi for literally any other zanpaktou in existence.

He made no secret of his distaste for her and her attitude, but his opinion seemed only to encourage her bad behavior instead of inspiring her to change.

After nearly forty years together, she had only recently shared her true name with him, having opted instead to let him refer to her as "hey, you", "creepy", and "sarcastic bitch" for years. It was nice to finally have a real name to call her by, though it would be nicer still if her personality had improved with that revelation.

There's nothing to improve; I'm perfect just the way I am. Pity you're too stupid to realize that fact.

Yes, that was another problem he had with Kage Shitsukoi, or Kagi for short…

She was arrogant as all Hell.

"God, what did I ever do to deserve getting stuck with a zanpaktou like you?" asked Anrak aloud, shaking his head. Surely he must have committed some great sin in a past life to be punished so, or there was some sort of mistake in the grand scheme of everything.

You're just lucky. Really, I think my talents might be wasted on you as you are now.

"Yes, lucky me…" said Anrak dryly.

Wasted… Kagi repeated slowly, thoughtfully. But not completely hopeless. With a little work, I think I can make you into something worthwhile. You know, like Yoruichi was trying to do before she up and ditched you for being a loser.

Anrak decided not to bother replying to that bit of bait, knowing full well she was trying to start another argument.

Forty years together and only recently had she revealed her name to him, but still she had not told him the release command she would respond to, thus denying him access to shikai. Her sketchy reasoning had been that he "wasn't ready yet," in regards to his power, skill, and his rapport with her; a shinigami and his zanpaktou should trust each other, after all.

Easier said than done; he didn't trust the creepy blade at his hip any further than he could throw the damnedable thing.

Sometimes he wondered if that mad scientist in Division 12, Mayuri What's-His-Face, could give Kagi an attitude adjustment to make her more agreeable…

Sometimes, and then he remembered that the clown-faced lunatic was completely amoral and would likely only make things worse.

At least she was being silent for the moment…comparatively; while she wasn't actively speaking to him, her phantom voice reverberating through his skull as she bitched at him for one shortcoming or another, real or imagined, he could just barely hear the dark spirit off in the corner of his mind, in the inner world she'd carved out for herself, singing a haunting yet beautiful song to pass the time.

It was something she did quite frequently, and sometimes instead of sequestering herself away in the inner world to sing alone, she would instead openly entreat him to her surprisingly-melodic voice and soothe the tensions between them. Really, Kagi's talent for song was pretty much her only redeeming feature, though Anrak decided never to openly tell her such, fearing it might go to the spirit's head and make her even more insufferable.

Kagi's song brought him a sense of peace as he continued his walk through the slums of East 80 as he focused on the melody and let his thoughts wander away from Kagi's less-than-pleasant personality and the filth of the makeshift village around them. He readjusted the blade at his hip to a somewhat less-threatening posture as he made his way through the village, tilting his head up and letting a faint smile grace his lips as he drank in the evening sun.

Today wasn't really a bad day, all in all.

Something's wrong.

Then again, there was still plenty of time for the day to spiral into something completely terrible…

"What is it now?" he sighed irritably.

The slums here feel…slummier.

I don't think that's a real word, he shot back mentally before slowly scanning the area and taking in the shift in scenery.

The buildings were as ramshackle as ever, but true to Kagi's words, this area somehow managed to look worse: some buildings were on fire, with residents frantically throwing dirt and water on the flames to stifle them as other buildings showed signs of physical abuse: a deep gash from a blade, a shattered door that appeared to have been kicked in, broken windows…

Red splotches of blood could be seen here and there, both on the ground and on the buildings, and several of the men bore freshly-bandaged wounds as they sought to keep the fires from spreading.

Looks like we missed all the fun…

"Yeah…" agreed the unranked Squad 11 member absently, wondering if perhaps a stray hollow was to blame for the carnage. Really, taking down a good, challenging hollow would help make the day so much better…

"A Soul Reaper!" he heard a voice cry from the dirt-laden crowd, drawing the attention of the village residents to the stranger in their midst. Anrak slowly reached his left hand back down to grasp the sheath of his zanpaktou, readjusting the blade once again for a quick draw as a precaution.

"Oh, thank God!" someone else cried.

"Why?" countered another. "The shinigami don't care about us!"

"He might not even be a real shinigami!" cautioned yet another. "He might be one of them in disguise!"

"Get out of here!" shouted someone from the back of the growing crowd.

"Haven't you people done enough here? Just leave us alone!" agreed someone on the opposite side of the street.

The unfriendly populace began to gather around Anrak in a loose semi-circle, some jeering him and others begging for peace as the crowd teetered on the edge of degenerating into an angry mob.

I say we strike first, Kagi offered callously. Kill the rabble-rousers and the rest will scurry away like the rats they are!

"Please, let me through!" called a voice in the crowd, distracting Anrak from responding to Kagi's dark advice. He turned towards the noise, watching as a middle-aged woman forced her way through the sea of villagers to get a look at the visitor. "You really are a Soul Reaper…" she breathed in reverence as she finally got a good look at Anrak. "You…you have to help us! Please!"

"He's not here to help us!" jeered the agitators.

"Probably here to help them!" came the inevitable agreement.

"We have to try!" countered the woman passionately, tears visible in the corners of her eyes as she addressed the community around her. "We're powerless! We all saw just how powerless we are today! And this man, this man might be able to help us!"

I don't think I like where this is headed… growled Kagi. Start by killing her!

"Help you what?" asked Anrak, his blue eyes scanning the crowd for potential threats.

The woman turned back to face him, clasping her hands together in a pleading gesture, "Please…"

"She's right…" murmured another woman from the crowd. "He's our only hope!"

"We'll pay for your help!" offered an older, wounded man, limping forward on makeshift crutches. "We don't have much, but whatever we have is yours!"

"Please…" begged the first woman, dropping to her knees and gripping his pants leg desperately, "the children…they took the children! We'll do anything you want if you can just bring our children home!"

"The bandits 'round here…" clarified the injured man as he hobbled closer. "They've been a plague on us for ages now, but this mornin' they came and they kidnapped all the kids in the village, said they needed slaves and soldiers…"

"We tried to fight for our children…" said another man reluctantly, the shame evident in his voice and mannerisms as he looked at the ground. "We tried, but we were outmatched." He slowly raised his head to look at Anrak, revealing a scarred face and an empty eye socket, the wounds still bloody and fresh.

"There were only a dozen of them, maybe less, but we're not soldiers…" agreed the first man. "Farmers, craftsmen, fishermen, traders… We tried to fight, and we paid the price for it… We've got a handful of our friends we're digging graves for, our homes were ransacked, and these wounds will last forever…" He shook his head. "But none of that matters; what matters is the children they've taken. Please…just bring them home."

"Please!" begged the woman from earlier, crawling forward on her knees and grasping at Anrak's black shihakushō pleadingly. "Bring my son home… Bring all of our children home!"

A muttered chorus of agreement rang through the crowd, punctuated by a few stubborn voices who asserted that the shinigami didn't care and that there was nothing to be done. Anrak silently weighed his options while looking out at the sea of dirty faces looking at him expectantly, hopefully, some with tears in their eyes and others with raw hatred…

Options…

As if I have any, he thought ruefully. I can't turn my back on these people, especially not under these circumstances.

I fully support the idea of killing the hell out of any and all bandits in the area.

There was no mistaking the sadistic glee in Kagi's voice.

And saving the children?

Ugh, fine; if it'll make you happy, we can do that, too.

"I'll do what I can," Anrak promised the crowd solemnly, giving a single nod to acknowledge their plight as he ignored Kagi's over-eager bloodlust flooding into his mind. The evening sun was just beginning to set as the majority of the villagers enthusiastically thanked him for his promise, helpfully pointing towards a road leading out of the slums and into the forest as being the route taken by the bandits.

With a resigned sigh, Anrak headed towards the darkened forest and reflected back that no, today wasn't really a good day after all.


"Looking back, I'm not sure what was the scariest part of the whole thing…" Morihiro said slowly, his eyes closed as memories of the day long passed played through his mind. "The bandit's assault on our village, seeing them murder people, being forcefully pried from the arms of our families and dragged away into the woods, seeing some of the older kids beaten into submission for trying to fight back…"

"Jesus…" breathed Renji. "No kid should have to go through any of that…"

The other soul reaper nodded in agreement.

"At least it didn't last too long…" smiled the younger man faintly. "I remember his arrival clearly…"

"Tell me about it," encouraged Captain Abarai.

"The moon had long since risen, fat and full, the only light in the night sky… To children separated from their parents, it was spooky and terrifying, and made all the worse by being tied up in the bandit's camp…"

The Captain grabbed a pitcher of water kept on the left hand side of his desk for guests and a small glass, pouring a drink for the other man. He slid the full glass across his desk to Morihiro, who paused momentarily to accept the offered drink and gather his thoughts.

"Take your time if you need to," Renji said slowly.

"No, I'm okay…" Morihiro assured him with a deep breath as he sat the half-empty glass back down. "The campfires had went out some time ago, the last embers having almost faded away into nothing, and many of the bandits had already fallen asleep. We hadn't, of course; we were all still too charged with adrenaline and scared out of our minds to even try to sleep, with coarse, heavy ropes binding our hands and feet so we couldn't run or fight… We were just stuck there, huddled against the outside wall of a rundown little hut, waiting to be beaten or killed whenever the urge struck them…

"And then there was a shadow cast over us and the camp… The hill leading down into the camp had a figure on it, a black silhouette that we all feared was some kind of horrible monster come to devour us…"

Renji, knowing of Kage Shitsukoi's dark, Hollow-esque nature, twitched slightly at this and decided not to tell Morihiro just how much of a possibility that fear could have been.

"We'd thought we couldn't be anymore frightened, but having that shadow cast over us… We just knew it was the end…

"And then, the shadow on the hill spoke…"


"Let the children go."

It was a simple command, stated loud and clear so that even the most dim-witted scumbag in the filthy, makeshift camp below would understand the message and the unspoken "or else" attached to the end of it. Of course, Anrak didn't really expect the goons below to surrender without a fight…and neither did he particularly want them to. This would be a good chance to test himself, one against many, and see just how far he had truly come…and of course, he had every intention of making the entire nest of thieves and murderers pay for their crimes.

One by one, the dirty animals that dared masquerade as men crawled out of their tents and sleeping bags, drawing their weapons and gazing up at the unwelcome intruder with malice in their eyes.

Mangy beasts… spat Kagi with more than a little disgust.

"We'll just have to put them down, then…" muttered Anrak as the two closest to the hill charged up at him, their poorly-made swords raised in what was supposed to be a menacing gesture.

Pathetic! sneered Kagi as Anrak cut them both down with a single graceful draw of his zanpaktou before beginning his slow, purposeful descent of the hill.

"Kill 'im!" shouted someone from within the camp.

"You can try…" was the response, tinged with more than a little arrogance. Another bandit rushed in, this one by himself, and quickly found his head separated from his shoulders.

"He's a Soul Reaper!" cried another voice, the motley crew of scum finally able to make out the telltale black robes in the pale light of the moon.

Anrak allowed himself a smug grin, waiting for the fools to back up in fear…

Instead they encircled him, being careful to stay just outside of his range.

He frowned; this…this was not how things were supposed to go.

"Ah, a brother at arms…" said another voice as a break formed in the circle, allowing the newcomer to be part of the trap. He was clearly the leader, what with the way he carried himself and the dirty, animal-skin cloak he wore on his shoulders as a mark of distinction. He spread the folds of the cloak open as he grinned, the moonlight revealing a dirty, ragged set of shinigami robes underneath.

"So…a traitor…or a vulture…" growled Anrak, tightening his grip on Kagi as the other man pulled his sword, his exceptionally well-kept sword…

A zanpaktou… Kagi mused. He's the real thing. This might be more than you can handle as you are now…

I'm not backing down, retorted Anrak silently. We have a job to do here, remember?

These brats aren't worth our life, and it is our life because if you die, I die. We're not dying here, not like this.

Then we're in agreement for once; we're not dying tonight.

That's not what I meant, baka!

"I left the academy a couple of decades ago…" extolled the bandit leader. "They taught me so many wonderful things, but they expected me to fight monsters for the sake of strangers? It's insane! Why shouldn't I use that power for something better, like my own sake?"

"So what, you came out here and tried to set up your own kingdom and this is the best you could do?" snorted Anrak with a barely suppressed laugh. "You're a failure as a shinigami and as a king!"

"Am I?" asked the other man, gesturing to the growing crowd around him.

Nearly three dozen of them, possibly more… A lot more than Anrak had expected, and considerably more than the village had reported seeing…

"It takes time to build an army, to train them…" continued the mad Soul Reaper. "But after we finish teaching these children our ways, my ways, we'll be ready to start moving deeper into the Rukon and begin taking over entire districts, maybe the 79th district."

"You get that ambitious and you'll bring down the wrath of the Seireitei itself," warned Anrak.

"Ha! They don't really care about what happens this far from their precious city! They won't notice us until we move in to the 50th districts at the earliest, and by then my army will be too large to stop!"

"…I think you severely underestimate the strength of the Gotei 13…" said Anrak. "Not that it matters since I'm putting an end to you and your insanity here and now!"

"Wouldn't you rather join me?" pressed the other man. "Come on, if they've got you wandering this far away from the city, they clearly don't want you around and don't respect you, but I could use a man of your talents. Can you imagine the looks on their faces when they find out that the ones they cast aside like trash are the very ones responsible for their greatest defeat? Every king needs his general and with the training the academy provided you, you're more than qualified to help me take them down!"

"Not interested," said Anrak defiantly, raising his blade.

"You're not the first misguided fool to refuse me…" sighed the mad king, shaking his head sadly as the goons closest to him drew their own swords…

"Stolen zanpaktou…" said Anrak as he eyed the weapons now being brandished. "You're a monster!"

"Not the first…" he repeated with a twisted grin, "…and probably not the last. Don't worry, my men will take good care of your sword after you're dead!"

Shit… thought Anrak, grimacing as the mad bandit king retreated out of sight and the circle closed up again. A zanpaktou lost its true power after its owner died since both the spirit and the shinigami's life-forces were linked, but the blade itself lost none of its strength and neither did the razor edge dull.

A zanpaktou, even as a soulless husk of its former self, was still a hundred times more dangerous than even the finest hand-crafted sword.

Well, it was too late to retreat now; the only path available was to go forward through the sea of blades before him.

So be it.

Welcome to your life!
There's no turning back!

Anrak wasn't really convinced that now was the best time for Kagi to start singing, but he had little time to address the issue with the bizarre spirit before the first of his attackers fell upon him. He batted one sword away to his left, noting by the reverberation of metal against metal that it was one of the stolen zanpaktou, and ducked underneath a wild swing from another. He felt the air whiff by his midsection and realized that his black shihakushō had been cut and the tip of the oh-so-deadly blade had just narrowly missed contact with his skin.

These guys weren't holding back, but they weren't the real concern; he had to find and stop the traitorous shinigami in their midst above all else.

Even while we sleep,
we will find you!

Another blade came in from his right but the way it glinted under the moonlight gave away its identity as another poorly-made sword and rather than waste time using his own zanpaktou against it, he blocked it with his forearm, letting the thick leather tekkou armguard he wore absorb the impact harmlessly. The instant the blade bounced off the protective leather, he spun his hand around and grabbed the blade tightly, yanking it hard and taking its owner off his feet and face-first into the ground. A sandaled foot came down on the back of the fallen bandit's neck, snapping it even as Anrak deflected another rogue zanpaktou with Kage Shitsukoi.

They all had questionable training, but they had the advantage of numbers and he couldn't deny that the odds were heavily stacked against him.

"Fight as hard as you want, Soul Reaper!" called out the bandit king from somewhere in the background.

Acting on your best behavior…

"All you're doing is weeding out the weakest of my soldiers and providing training for the rest!" he continued to goad Anrak, laughing the entire time. "The more you struggle, the more you make my army stronger and better able to overthrow the Soul Society!"

Turn your back on Mother Nature…
Everybody wants to rule the world!

"Mad fool…" hissed Anrak, jerking his head to the side as one of the stolen zanpaktou sliced through the air, cutting a thin red line along his left jaw. The owner of the blade had committed too much to the attack and had accomplished too little; he was now horribly off-balance and Anrak was largely unscathed, a fact that was driven home by a devastating sidekick to the bandit's ribcage, sending him flying back into his fellows.

The stolen zanpaktou slipped from his fingertips and clattered to the ground.

Another bandit immediately picked up the superior weapon, discarding his cheap and worn saber to the side in favor of his new toy.

It's my own desire…
It's my own remorse…

A blow from a blunt weapon from behind, likely a staff by the feel of it, staggered the shinigami as a sword pommel cracked against the side of his skull.

There were too many of them, so hard to focus…

A flash of silver caught his attention and he quickly raised Kage Shitsukoi up to block the incoming strike, deflecting the blade and sending the wild swing careening off and into another bandit's head. Another blur of movement forced Anrak to step back as another blade came sailing past the tip of his nose. He turned, tearing one hand free of Kagi's hilt and grabbing the arm attached to the outstretched blade, forcefully flipped its owner off his feet and over onto his back.

Kage Shitsukoi came screaming down mercilessly, impaling the man to the ground for a split second before withdrawing and blocking another incoming strike.

Help me to decide…
Help me make the most of freedom…

Anrak steadied his breathing… Yes, they had the numbers, but he had to have faith in his own strength and training; if he couldn't defeat trash like this, then he'd never be able to keep his promise to Yoruichi. If he couldn't win here and now, it would be the ultimate proof that he was never truly worth all the time and effort she had poured into him, teaching him to be a man instead of a scared little boy.

And of pleasure…

He would not fail!

Still, there were just so many of them…

"I will tear down the Soul Society and create a new eternity!" screeched the bandit king.

Nothing ever lasts forever…

He noticed a peculiar hitch in Kagi's voice and a pause, as if she were waiting for something…

Odd, since Kagi never waited for anything; she said and did as she pleased pretty much whenever she pleased, much to his annoyance… But this time was different; it seemed like she was eagerly awaiting a sign to continue her song… Permission, perhaps?

And then he understood what she truly wanted.

Not permission…

A command.

"It will all be mine, all of it!" cackled the madman.

"Everybody wants to rule the world…" muttered Anrak as he tightened his grip on his zanpaktou and stood up straighter, pointing his blade through the crowd towards the source of the insanity and bellowing out his command for the entire world to hear. "Sing, Kage Shitsukoi!"

There's a room where the light won't find you,

He could literally feel her satisfaction as she resumed singing with increased volume and vigor, the physical blade in his hand morphing into something new and dangerous. Black shadows began to roll their way across the blade, seemingly originating from the guard, devouring the shiny steel surface and replacing it with a black void, reconfiguring the gentle curve of a traditional katana with something more much more wicked and intimidating, the end of the blade becoming exaggerated in size as a blood groove formed along the length of the steel.

Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down!

The next blade foolish enough to come forward to meet Kagi found itself batted away with incredible force, a new-found strength that had not existed before. The stolen zanpaktou went flying through the air and a lesser sword was neatly cut in half with ease, with its owner following suit immediately afterward. He stepped in towards his other foe, reversing the direction of his zanpaktou and slicing upwards, opening the bandit's torso from his left hip to his right shoulder in one clean strike.

Blood flew as the tip of Kage Shitsukoi tore her way free of the bandit, and Anrak made a quick horizontal slice through the air to both fling the excess gore from the blade and to keep the others at bay. Black shadows trailed behind every swing of his zanpaktou, the shadows themselves feeling unnaturally hot and causing the bandits to recoil in discomfort and fear.

Their will to fight was breaking in the face of Kagi's unexpected new form and power.

"Ruin, Sōdobureikā!" roared the bandit leader, incensed to see his army faltering. "I will not let you destroy my kingdom before I've built it!"

His immaculate blade began to thicken and expand exponentially, the sharp edge of the blade disappearing entirely as the weapon took on the form of a massive iron Kanabō nearly as thick as a tree trunk with spikes nearly as big as a kunai dagger. A simple weapon for a simple mind Anrak supposed, but one with devastating power nonetheless.

Anrak dodged to the right as the large, two-handed weapon came crashing down, cratering the earth and shaking the ground violently. He lost his footing, but Yoruichi's training kicked in and he nimbly rolled with the momentum he had before springing back to his feet and cutting down three of the lesser bandits with a single swing, completely severing their torsos from their lower bodies with ease.

When they do, I'll be right behind you!
So glad we've almost made it!

With each attack made and every strike blocked, the blood groove had begun to fill up with an angry fiery red glow, slowly inching closer to being full and while he had no idea what would happen once it was full, the eagerness in Kagi's voice filled him with all the confidence he needed to finish the fight.

Another blade was thrust at him and with an almost theatrical flourish, he parried the attack away with ease, the black steel of Kage Shitsukoi spinning so quickly she may as well have been a wheel rather than a sword. He stopped the spin in a reverse grip and plowed the pommel into the face of another bandit, shattering his nose and sending him stumbling back towards the angry would-be king, who splattered the hapless man into a thousand tiny, bloody pieces with a single swing of his oversized iron club.

Anrak hopped backwards out of the way before lunging left and disarming another bandit, literally; the severed hand and the pilfered zanpaktou it had held went pinwheeling through the air even as Anrak spun on his heel and sliced the throat of another bandit so deeply that the head just barely remained attached to the body.

So sad we had to fade it…

The blood groove was full now, the color a fierce, angry red that glowed and even seemed to pulsate in sync with Kagi's voice, the entire feature a dramatic contrast to rest of the obsidian blade as the mad bandit leader towered over him, hefting his oversized weapon back for another mighty swing.

"I won't let you stop me!" he bellowed as he swung. Anrak refused to dodge this time, opting instead to meet the powerful attack head-on with all of Kagi's pent-up bloodlust. No fear, no hesitation, and no doubts were permitted; this was all or nothing and Anrak had zero intention of falling to a lunatic.

Everybody wants to rule the world!

The weapons clashed, the smaller blade exercising an unexpectedly explosive force that shattered the massive iron club as if it were made of simple balsa wood, sending thousands of steel splinters and unexplained globs of molten metal flying throughout the air.

Everybody wants to rule the world!

The crazed would-be king opened his mouth to scream in either rage or fear or perhaps both, but before the first sound could escape, his body was engulfed in a black inferno, devouring him entirely and ripping a trail of onyx flames across the ground some five meters long.

Everybody wants to rule the world!

Kagi's exuberant song came to an end and the red glow of the blood groove vanished, apparently resetting itself to zero and waiting for the next attack even as the warm, wispy black shadows continued to roll off of the blade, as if the weapon was still seething with dark rage.

The next attack never came.

The sound of metal clanging against the ground filled the air as the bandits all dropped their weapons one by one, holding their hands up in defeat.

Oh goody; they're making it easy for us. Kill that one first, over there!

For a moment, Anrak tightened his grip on the dark blade in his hand and allowed the thought to flit through his mind, but only for a moment; he would not succumb to blind rage and hate or Kagi's malevolence.

"No…" he said aloud, exhaling slowly. "I'm better than that… We're better than that."

Speak for yourself, baka!

He chose to ignore her prodding.

"Leave your weapons where they lay and abandon this place, and never return," he instructed the beaten thieves coldly, his voice hard. "If I should ever come across any of you doing harm or causing misery to others again, there will be no mercy: no retreat allowed, no surrender accepted; I will kill you and everyone associated with you."

He paused a moment, scanning the area slowly and making eye contact with many of the bandits.

"Is. That. Clear?" he growled threateningly.

A chorus of "Yes, Sir" answered him before the bandits all turned tail and scattered into the wilderness, leaving all their weapons and ill-gotten loot behind. The victorious shinigami dared not nod, grin, or show any hint of weakness, not now; he simply stood his ground and watched them flee in terror before finally turning to face the frightened children huddled up against the wall of a dirty, hastily-constructed hut. Only then did he allow his expression to soften just a hair.

"Ready to go home?"


"I'd never even seen a Soul Reaper before…" Morihiro said, smiling softly. "I'd heard stories, sure, but most of them painted the shinigami as cruel or indifferent to the suffering of the common folk of the Rukon… They were made out to be corrupt jerks or boogeymen, but here was one who had gone out of his way to save us, a group of strangers, had selflessly put his life on the line with no thought for his own safety…"

"I can see how that would have been a powerful moment," nodded Renji. "Something like that would make a big impact on anyone, let alone a scared kid."

"We didn't leave immediately, of course…" the younger man continued. "He cut us free and instructed us to grab all the food and clothes we could carry, and any stolen goods we recognized from our village, and take them home with us. He gathered up the weapons while we did that and put them in a big pile, all of them, and destroyed them."

"With black fire?" asked Renji.

"Yes!" said Morihiro, surprised. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess."

"I mean, it took him a while to do… I guess he was channeling his reiatsu into his sword or something to charge it up, making the groove glow red again, and then he thrust it into the pile and…fwoosh! I didn't know metal could burn like that, but there was a big flash of black fire that lasted for several seconds and when it was done, there was nothing but a molten pile of metal goo…"

Renji nodded absently, feeling pretty sure his friend wouldn't even need to use his zanpaktou to accomplish such a feat now… Simply another testament to just how hard the other man had worked to achieve his current station, he supposed.

"Anyway, we managed to round up a lot of supplies from the camp and he shouldered several of the biggest bags himself before telling us to fall in line and stay close behind him," the younger man reflected almost reverently. "We marched for the rest of the night to get home despite being tired, but we didn't mind; we were eager to see our families again and glad to be free of the bandits. It was dawn when we finally made it home…"


The morning sun hadn't been up long when the battered band of travelers reached the village and while Anrak knew the children had to be exhausted, the familiar sight of home filled them with renewed energy as they went rushing to their houses, shouting for their parents. Most dropped the supplies they had been carrying, the precious contents all but forgotten in their haste to be reunited with their families. He allowed himself a tight smile and a brief shake of the head as he stepped over a stray apple rolling out of one such forgotten sack.

The adults, every bit as battered and bruised as the unfortunate children, came pouring out of their homes at the sound of so many voices, their faces a mixture of joy, relief, and surprise that the shinigami had indeed kept his word. Dozens of conversations filled the air as families reminded each other that they were loved and had been missed, and there were a few children excitedly telling the story of their grand adventure… The village felt positively alive, probably more so than it ever had before.

Sometimes you just don't appreciate what you have until it's gone, do you?

"No…no, you don't…" agreed Anrak solemnly as he sat the heavy sacks he had been carrying down against the side of a hut. "At least they can be whole again, now that they know."

So when you find her, you should forget all about this nonsense of her being family

"Shut up and mind your own business," growled Anrak, cutting Kagi off.

I'm telling you

"And I'm telling you: Shut. Up."

Baka.

He rolled his eyes at the impudent, bitchy spirit before turning his attention back to the sea of reunions happening across the village, letting the sight of so much elation calm his soul and bring a simple smile back to his face.

"We did good today, Kagi."

I always do good; you're the constant disappointment.

"God damn it—"

But you did decent enough today. You even figured out my release command…with a little prompting…because you're still an idiot…

He decided it was best to simply stop talking to the irritating spirit for the moment before she completely destroyed what was left of his good mood.

With all the families otherwise occupied, Anrak turned to slip away and disappear back into the wilderness before making his way to South 80, just as he had originally planned before stumbling upon this village; the families were whole once again and they had no need of an unwanted Soul Reaper slinking around any further. He stopped just long enough to scoop up the forgotten apple, wiping the dirt off of it against a relatively-clean bit of his black robe before safely tucking it away in his sleeve to serve as a meager breakfast later.

"Wait…" said a voice just as he reached the outskirts of the village. Anrak turned slightly to face the owner, finding the old man from the day before hobbling up to him on his crutches. "What do we owe you? We promised to pay you; we don't have much, but whatever we have is yours if you want it."

The shinigami just shook his head as an answer and turned to leave once more.

"Isn't there anything we can do to repay you?" asked the man, sounding utterly confused by the prospect of someone not taking something from the village for a change. "You've done so much for us…"

"My sister has decided to go AWOL…" Anrak said softly, never looking back. "If she should ever pass through here, please tell her that I miss her very much…and that I haven't forgotten the promise I made her."

Without another word, Anrak continued his trek and disappeared into the forest heading south.


"When my mom finally stopped hugging me and crying and we looked up…he was gone," said the young prospect sadly. "We never got a chance to tell him thank you or to ask his name or anything… Nobody did, really; he just…left. He never asked for or accepted any kind of reward, not even a celebration in his honor…"

"Sounds about right…" snorted Renji, knowing full well the other man's distaste for large parties.

"The village elder, we called him Gramps, said that the only thing he wanted was for us to tell his sister that he missed her if we ever saw her, but he never told us her name or what she looked like, so how were we supposed to know who she was if we did see her?"

The Captain cast a sideways glance at a neatly-framed photograph on the wall of the first day he had served as Captain of Squad 5, the same day Anrak had become the new Captain of Squad 13. It was supposed to be a completely professional photo of the two friends, but…

Yoruichi.

Anrak's face was mostly hidden by the elder shinigami's arm with Yoruichi having trapped him in a headlock as she clung to his back tightly, peering over his right shoulder with a big cheesy grin on her face as she flashed the camera a two-fingered V-sign with her free hand, all while Renji desperately tried to pull the dark-skinned beauty off his friend's back by her left leg and salvage the photo op before the camera flashed.

"She's…one of a kind…" Captain Abarai said dryly before looking back at Morihiro.

"Sir?" asked the confused kid.

"Never mind—" Renji began, cutting himself short as the door to his office abruptly slid open to reveal Lieutenant Kanō and another officer.

"Captain Abarai, your guest is here," said Ashido, ushering the other man inside.

"If this is about transferring the twins to Division 13 again, my answer is still no; if I have to deal with Kiyone and Sentarō, then you can deal with Takk and Satsu," said a new voice as it entered the room. "Fair's fair, right?"

Renji watched as young Morihiro sat up straighter, a sense of recognition flickering in his eyes for a split second as a child-like look of wonder mixed with curiosity overtook his face. "I…I know that voice…"

He turned around in his chair slowly, looking up at the new arrival to the office.

For his part, Captain Anrak Ushii appeared to be completely clueless as to who the young man sitting before Renji was as he looked from Morihiro to Renji for an answer.

"It's you…" breathed Morihiro reverently, slowly standing up on shaky, unsteady legs. "I never thought… I mean, I hoped, but… I can't believe it…"

"Hello…" greeted Anrak uncertainly, slowly offering his hand and looking to Renji once again for answers as the other Captain finally stood up with a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Morihiro Otaka, meet Captain Anrak Ushii, the commander of Division 13," he said before turning his attention to Anrak. "I think young mister Otaka here has something to say to you—"

"Thank you!" gushed the younger shinigami suddenly, seizing Anrak's offered hand with both hands and shaking it excitedly as all of his earlier self-control evaporated in the presence of his long sought-after idol.

The older shinigami had more scars than Morihiro remembered, had thickened up with a bit more muscle over time and the white haori was definitely new, but the young Soul Reaper knew beyond all doubt that this was the hero from his childhood that he had so desperately been seeking and he couldn't stop himself from shaking the Captain's hand even if he had wanted to.

"I know you don't know me," he said excitedly as he kept shaking Anrak's hand happily, "but I know you…I remember you. You…you saved me a long time ago, me and all of my friends…"

"Apparently you saved some kids in the Rukon a long time ago…" Renji supplied helpfully, watching the comprehension dawning in Anrak's eyes.

"And you're one of those kids…" he said to Morihiro before smiling softly. "I'm glad to see you're okay and that you've decided to become a Soul Reaper."

"It's because of you!" explained the kid, grinning ear to ear. "Ever since that night, I've been trying to find you, trying to be a hero just like you!"

"And here I am…here you are," said Anrak as he finally managed to extract his hand from Morihiro's incessant shaking and placed it on the younger shinigami's shoulder. "I'm flattered, but don't try to be like me; just be you. That uniform you have on carries with it a powerful responsibility to protect those who can't protect themselves; I was only doing my duty that day, and that same duty is now yours: be a hero for as long as you wear that uniform, but do it your way."

"I…I will…" said Morihiro numbly, nodding his head repeatedly in agreement as he soaked in the words of the man he had idolized for so long. "I won't let you down, Sir—"

"Lieutenant, show young mister Morihiro here to the barracks and help him get settled in while I add his name to the duty roster," said Renji, cutting the young man off before he lost himself again.

"You mean—" he began, turning to look at his new Captain as Renji made a show of placing his personnel file into the cabinet with active shinigami rather than the trash can.

"Welcome to Division 5, kid," said Renji with a smile as Ashido gently grabbed Morihiro's shoulder and led him from the office before the young man's excitement overtook his senses.

The door slid shut as Morihiro eagerly called out promises to both Captains that he wouldn't let either one of them down and that he'd make them proud, and both men chuckled lightly at the younger shinigami's enthusiasm. Renji sat back down behind his desk and Anrak slid into the now-empty chair in front of it as the Captain of Squad 5 opened the bottom right drawer in his desk and retrieved a bottle of sake and two small cups, pouring a couple of drinks for himself and his guest.

"That's twice you've saved him now," said Renji as he watched Anrak toss back the offered shot of sake.

"Eh?" asked Anrak as Renji chugged his own shot down. "How so?"

The Captain of Squad 5 stood up and went back over to his file cabinet, opening it and retrieving the personnel file he had placed inside only moments ago. He handed the file to Captain Ushii before stepping over and grabbing the sake bottle, pouring another pair of shots as Anrak opened the folder and scanned the contents quickly.

"I see…" murmured the other Captain, grimacing a bit as he read.

"If not for that rather interesting story, I'd have passed on him," Renji admitted as Anrak handed him back the folder and reached for his sake cup once again.

"Low scores, but he's made it this far; I think he can make it a bit further," said Anrak before taking a swig of his sake. "Between you and Ashido, and even Takk and Satsu, I think Squad 5 is a good place for him to grow and develop into his own man."

"If he's still not too hung up on chasing your shadow, that is."

"Let him," shrugged Anrak dismissively as Renji put the file back in the cabinet. "I feel like a large part of who I am is because of all the time I spent chasing after Yoruichi…and partly from standing in Zaraki's imposing shadow. If it worked for me, maybe it'll work for him, too."

"Maybe…" Renji agreed as he sat back down behind his desk and grabbed his cup once more, looking at the sake within for a quick second before downing it. "My question right now is why the hell have you never told me this story before?"

"Like you've told me all of your various misadventures over the years," snorted Anrak, grabbing the sake bottle and pouring himself another shot. "It was a long time ago; I've done a lot of things since then and it just kind of slipped my mind."

"While all that is true and very reasonable, you're still an ass for making me find out like this," said Renji. "This is the kind of thing friends are supposed to tell each other while getting piss-drunk."

Anrak passed the bottle back over to his friend as he looked down into his cup, swirling the sake around and thinking for a moment before looking up at the clock on the wall.

"Eh, what the hell?" he said finally, shrugging again. "My paperwork for the day is caught up and Nel can take care of the division on her own for a bit…and it's been way too long since we've been able to just hang out… Have I ever told you about the first time I fought Kagi for the right to use Bankai?"

A grin flickered across Renji's face as he slid forward in his seat.

"I'm all ears, buddy."

...

..

.

Author's Note II: So despite a lengthy absence, I am not, in fact, dead. Life is a thing, but I'm still around and still pondering a title for my next (and probably last) big project, the long-promised sequel to Winter War, Espada's Masquerade, and Long Halloween. This is just a little stand-alone I've been working on every now and then as time permits. The song Kagi uses is Lorde's cover of "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" and while I am not a fan of hers, I gotta say that when I heard this song and how haunting she made the melody, I knew it was perfect for Kagi (and such a far cry from the original version by Tears for Fears).

Admittedly, the ending here feels a bit rushed and there's a reason for that; it is. Sorry. I've been sitting on this piece for a while with a bit of writer's block where Anrak arrives at Renji's office and when I finally decided to try again...everything just came out at once, comparable to a faucet that's been blocked too long or Linda Blair from The Exorcist if you prefer.

Speaking of, that's sort of the theme for another stand-alone I've been sitting on for a while and I'm debating on finishing and posting it, or saving it as its own chapter in that next project. Thoughts, opinions, and other comments on that, as well as this story, are, as always appreciated.

Also of note, I've recently went through and cleaned up some of the grammar/dialogue for Espada's Masquerade to help with the overall flow. Nothing substantial changes in regards to the story itself, though there are a few new lines here and there that shed a bit more light on Tyn and Tia's dysfunctional relationship over the years.