Hi all!

So, welcome to the newest fic! A few things before we get started:

-This is AU which means everything is in an alternate world. There's no high school, everyone's a Shinigami except for Uryuu and they've all never met.

-Quincy's have rebuilt themselves into a much larger group, their numbers are substantial. Also they all belong to Orders which is another name for the family or region they come from.

-All credits for the idea go to La_Kalaka who suggested an AU storyline of:

"Two hundreds years has passed after the Quincy massacre, the wounds never closed, the hatred keeps still and the two groups maintain their hostility towards each others despite the truce between them.
In this universe, a recently promoted shinigami oficial called Tatsuki Arisawa meets Ishida Uryuu the young heir of the last Quincy clan on earth. "

I though it was a great idea, tweaked it to suite my muse and got permission from the truly awesome La_Kalaka to do the story.

So here you go!


With a low grunt, the Eleventh Division member fell hard against the packed dirt of the training ground.

Dirt stained his uniform and that of his opponent but neither was willing to back down from the fight. Both had garnered their share of bruises and injuries. Blood spotted both their uniforms and skin, caking the dirt to their bodies and cuts. Yet even as the man hit the ground he rolled and landed on his feet, turning to face his opponent. Viciously the back of his opponents hand came up and wiped at the back of their mouth, throwing blood from their split lip aside. It would be spectacular, just as he could feel his own right eye throbbing viciously. He knew he wasn't going to be seeing out of it for the next few days, just like his shoulder was going to give him trouble for longer than that. He knew his opponent was going to have their own mess of issues and the more vicious part of him enjoyed that--almost as much as he enjoyed the fact he was going to have his own bruises and marks to show he'd come through the fight without being hurt too badly.

They lunged at the same time. his fist streaking out as his opponent tumbled to the side, avoiding the attack without any visible effort. Before he could move out of the way, a hand fastened on his wrist and a foot slammed into his ribs with enough force to knock the breath out of his lungs and double him over. His opponent jumped back, landing easily on the dirt ground and sliding seamlessly into a fighting stance. He went to straiten up but pain hot and sharp flared across his ribs and he found it impossible to stand up fully. Swearing he shook his head, pressing his hands into his knees as his body refused to co-opperate with him. It was even worse when his opponent stepped fully into his line of view and wiggled their bare toes.

"Enough!" the command was barked, "Ibuki you're eight. Arisawa, you're fourth."

Swearing at the bitch's toes of steel, Akimoto Ibuki looked at the woman standing in front of him. It wasn't the fact that Tatsuki Arisawa was a girl that pissed him off. He'd have been pissed off if it was a boy as petite that kicked his ass. Even the top of her spiky hair barely came up to his shoulder--and her hair was very spiky. Like many members of the Division whose talents were in hand to hand combat, her knuckles were covered with black fabric. It was also wrapped around her shins, binding the loose fabric of her hakama and around the arch of her foot. Normally she wore shoes but to fight she took them off--something half the Eleventh Division was convinced was because she wanted them to know that a five foot tall, ninety pound girl could beat them without wearing shoes. Seamlessly she turned to face their Captain and bowed.

"Thank you, sir!" she said, her voice once again reminding them all that they should not think of the girl as delicate.

"Yeah Yeah," the Captain said gruffly, "get that to the Fourth and come by my office."

Another bow and the Captain lumbered off, sword slung over his shoulder. The few others who had watched the promotion ceremony went off--probably inspired to participate in fights of their own. From his bent position, Akimoto raised his head to look at the new Fourth Seat. He'd known going into the fight that he probably wasn't going to come out on top but even so, being beaten so badly wasn't something he was particularly proud of, even with the bruises that showed on Tatsuki's face. They both knew that if she tried she could be pretty. Maybe not truly gorgeous like Captain Shihon or delicate beauty like Lieutenant Kuchiki, but she could be much prettier than the dirtied, bloody woman who stood in front of him now with her hands by her side and her eyes trailing after the Captain.

As if coming to herself, Tatsuki jerked and turned towards him. Akimoto forced himself to try to stand, even as he knew it was a lost cause. Tatsuki easily strode over to him and grabbed his shoulder. A burst of Shunpo later, they were outside the Fourth, her upright and him doubled over further, choking on whatever his lungs hacked up in protest. Tatsuki strode over to the door and drew back her fist, banging on it loudly. It took only moments for an unseated member of the Fourth division to come to the door. His eyes moved across the pair of them before settling on Akimoto. A look of displeasure flitted across his gaze, like most of the Fourth he disapproved of the more rowdy of the Eleventh Division members for more than just being injury prone.

"How long as he been like this?" he asked.

"Less than a minute," Tatsuki replied, "I used Shunpo to get him here."

"Of course," the healer said, "thank you for bringing him Arisawa."

"No problem," Tatsuki said, not bothering to use her new status, "you got it from here?"

"Yes," he said with the infuriatingly gentle smile that the Fourth seemed to specialize in as he guided Akimoto into the Division building.

Tatsuki watched the members of the Fourth lead the new Eight Seat of the Eleventh Division away. She didn't feel bad about beating him, nor beating him so soundly. After all, if it wasn't him being led into the Fourth, Tasuki knew it would have been her. Besides, a few bits of Kido and Akimoto would be back in fighting form--quite literally. Well he wouldn't be any different from the other members of the Eleventh. It took nothing to get them to fight, she supposed if he tried to fight her for revenge it would hardly be strange. She wouldn't put it above him anyway. She remembered her first days in the Eleventh when she had been so sure everyone want to fight her because she was a girl. Now she knew better. They wanted to fight her because she was a good fighter. Because beating her would mean something.

If they could beat her that was.

Even now the promotion didn't seem real to her. She had been a good fighter and her time at the Eleventh had only made her better, but even so the idea that she was now Fourth Seat just blew her mind. She knew she probably didn't deserve it either but Fourth Seat was taken and by beating the new Eight she had effectively bypassed being one of the lower Seats. Fourth! Whether it was because of the Fifth's vanity or some other strange twist, she didn't care. She was a Seated Officer now. No more taking orders from everyone in the entire Division, no more running papers and struggling to hold her tongue every second. She couldn't go all out, that much she knew, but she was a hell of a lot closer now. She barely even felt the torn skin on her knuckles, her heart was beating so fast.

She did not immediately go into Shunpo to get back to her Division. Her head felt light, and not just from the fight. She had a feeling the Captain could tell her the most important news ever and as she knew that it would go through one ear and out the other. And that would never do. Not now. Not for the Captain. Orders that weren't followed right the first time were essentially the signature on your transfer papers out of there. If there was one thing Tatsuki was sure of, it was that there was not another Division that she wanted to be a part of. Oh she could imagine that the other Captains would see some advantage in having her there but she couldn't see it in them. Not now, not when she was finally getting somewhere in the Eleventh. If anything this promotion only confirmed what she knew. Fighting--more importantly fighting effectively--it got you somewhere in the Eleventh. More than talent at a single one of the Shinigami Arts got you in the other Divisions.

Passing by the Fifth Division, Tatsuki's feet paused of their own accord.

She had once thought that everything she ever wanted lay inside the polished exterior of the Fifth Division. Not just because of what the Fifth represented, but because of who it represented. There had been a time when she had been sure that everything was there. She had been such a starry eyed fool, so intent on practice and still filled with the certainty that if she just worked hard she would get everything that she had ever wanted. That was back when they still believed their Academy Instructors, when the Shinigami who walked by them represented the beacons of hope and pride they all strove to be. That dream of the people in the world being full of equals had crashed and burned pretty fast--she just wished it had been faster.

Shaking herself, Tatsuki shook her head and pushed herself into shunpo. Her. Daydreaming. What was the world coming to? It took her a very short time to get to the Eleventh Division. No-one paid her disheveled appearance a second glance. Bruises and all, she still fit with the riff raff milling about or getting ready for their next fight. The Eleventh Division didn't make the same effort as the others to give a facade of purity. The gate that encircled the Division was sturdy but simple and the building's in the Division were few and far between. Their training floors were dirt and hard packed with the weight of the members throwing themselves whole heartedly into their training. Tatsuki knew that most of the time their uniforms were more brown or red than they were black. The dirt, the blood--it was no different from what the other Divisions were covered in. The only difference was that they were not as inclined to wash.

The Eleventh wore the blood proudly.

Striding through the Division's training field, Tatsuki marched towards the building she knew the Captain was in. She'd been in there many times. The same hierarchy that most Divisions held to was not really applied within the confines of the Eleventh. She'd sparred most of the upper ranks of the Division--ranks to which she now could count herself. Except the Captain, she'd only sparred him once and that one time was more than enough for her. Her arm still ached when she thought about it. Tatsuki pushed open the door and walked through into the training room. The Captain was sitting on the ground, glaring at the papers spread out in front of him without a desk in sight. Tatsuki walked forward, stopping when she was close enough to be able to see the words on the paper.

"Eh? Arisawa--" the Captain's head jerked up as he fixed her with his gaze, "Ibuki's off being healed?"

"Yes sir," she said, "the Fourth didn't think there'd be any problem."

"Yeah, well, that's the Fourth for you," he said getting seamlessly to his feet, "mission came in today. I'm putting you on it."

"Yes sir," Tatsuki said, thinking that she would be commanding a team.

"Cool your heals. Your part's a solo mission," he said.

"Sir?"

"You were good in fighting Ibuki today. People look at you and they don't think you can kick their ass. That's good for this."

"Sir, don't stealth missions usually go to the Second?" Tatsuki asked.

"Yeah, so? Second's been trying to get their claws in you for years now. I always told them off," he shrugged before swiping the paper off the ground, "like I was saying, this is going to be a good mission for you. Hand to hand combat, not a lot of Kido skill--hell you don't even rely on your Zanpakuto half the time."

"Not always sir," Tatsuki agreed.

"This mission's in the transient world," the Captain said consulting the paper, "some shithole called Karakura Town--think its right outside Tokyo but who cares?" he shrugged and looked at Tatsuki, "your mission's to go to the signing of a treaty."

"Bodyguard detail, sir?" she asked, her brow furrowing. That was absolutely the Second Division's jurisdiction.

"Yeah," he agreed roughly, "you could say that. How good's your history Arisawa?"

"Decent," Tatsuki said.

"Yeah, well, then you know about their damn treaties and all the bureaucratic crap they've got going on," he made a sound of disgust, "a whole bunch of their Orders are getting together for some treaty bullshit."

"Is the Commander General attending?" she asked.

"No," Tatsuki frowned, "there ain't gonna be no Shinigami there--none they'll know about anyway."

Tatsuki stared at him, something unpleasant coiling in her stomach. Her mind quickly calculated that if this was a major treaty then there would be the upper echelons of Quincy society there, probably representatives from the minor Orders too. She guessed it made sense for Soul Society to place a spy within, just to figure out what was going on, but her mind still told her that this was the Second Division's jurisdiction, not the Eleventh. The Captain finally balled the paper he held in his hand and threw it over his shoulder before he faced her fully. Tatsuki quickly stood at attention, trying to focus on him and not the suspicion she could feel inside.

"Ask it," he said, "its written all over your face. You want to know why Soul Society'd use us instead of the Second."

"Well, yeah--"

"Old man said it was for us. Don't know why. Maybe he wants it messy. Maybe he's thinkin of last time when the Second lost five people to one of those damn Quincys. Maybe he's thinkin something else. Doesn't matter. He gave you the mission," he said.

"And what is that mission, sir?" she asked, succeeding in keeping the wariness out of her tone.

"The leader of the chief Order, Ryuuken Ishdia, he's got a brat. A kid he managed to keep hidden away all these years, the bastard. 'Course now he's got an heir and Soul Society doesn't like that. Can't have the Ishida's maintaining their dynasty."

Tatsuki stared at him. He wasn't saying it but they both knew why the Second Division hadn't gotten this mission. A few of the damn Quincy tricks and they'd be able to trace whatever the Second used back to the attacks with Spiritual Power would have the same result. They didn't want a graceful assassination, one done with the kind of skill the Second could employ. They wanted the Eleventh because they did not want it to be traced back to Soul Society. If there was another team, Tatsuki could only assume that they were going to take care of the rest of them in the brutal way that only the Eleventh could. Quincy's were all about grace, grace, elegance and power but in a test of brute strength Tatsuki would stake her last dollar on the Eleventh.

She tried to find fault with the idea as it settled over her but she couldn't. It would be nice to have one less thing to worry about in the world. On the list of things to worry about Quincy's ranked very high. Especially now with their numbers as strong as they were. If he was allowed to come to power, Ryuuken's son would rule nothing short of an empire. The fragile truce between the two races was quickly becoming obsolete. Power was tipping and if the Ishida Dynasty maintained its iron grip there was a very good chance they would be facing another war. It made sense, getting rid of the problem before it became a real issue. Tatsuki looked at her Captain and met his gaze squarely with her own.

"Whose my target?"

"The son," he said, "even if some of them escape, as long as the Ishida dynasty's broken it'll be centuries before they re-mass."

"Sounds good to me," Tatsuki said, "what's his name?"

"Uryuu Ishida."

And that's the first chapter!

Please review! With crazy pairings like this your reviews really do mean a lot--okay they mean a lot even when the pairing makes more sense. My plan is for this to be an epic-length fic (20-30 chapters) and your reviews will make my update pace significantly faster!

So review!