Author`s Note: I`m uploading this from a hotel lobby in Tokyo... ：）

Urahara's cries followed her down the road, but she didn't hear them nor the sound of traffic nor the angry shouts of drivers as they swerved to avoid her. For the first time since donning this body, she felt no pain in her muscles as she ran, nor the burning of each breath in her chest. She felt only a bright white panic, compacted by a welter of memories. The city seemed not to exist. She was running again through a forest on a rainy night. Her legs always took her down that same path, driven by the same blind fear and, try as she might, she couldn't turn back, couldn't stop. Couldn't take back her decision.

The city slammed back into focus as part of her registered the figure of a red-haired boy at the top of a short flight of stairs. There was a football field to her right; walled houses to her left. And directly in front of her, Ichigo, a bemused expression on his face. She felt relief. Confusion, but mostly relief, bubbling up in her chest like laughter.

The young man launched himself towards her with a bark of delight. Instinctively, and before she really understood what was happening, she lifted her foot to plant a kick in his chest. She tried to twist her body to follow through, but he was already upon her, but his weight knocked them both to the ground. "Ichigo!" Her voice broke in fear. It was his body, but it wasn't him. He was much stronger than her. Within second, he'd pinned her arms behind her head and she resorted to pulling her knees up to her chest in the hopes he would relent enough to let her kick him.

"Ne-san, I'm so glad you're alive!" he wailed.

It took a beat for the words to sink in and, when they did, the farcical nature of her situation suddenly struck home:

"Kon, you idiot!" she cried, her voice shrill with the remanants of her fear. He wasn't trying to attack her. Or, more accurately, he didn't intend her harm. He was, however, trying to kiss her. As he ducked towards her, she brought her head up, hard, against his chin and he yelped in pain. "Get off me!"

"Ne-san!"

"Where's Ichigo? Idiot!" He tried to bury his head in her chest and she kneed him in the throat for his efforts. He still wouldn't let her up: "Kon, where's Ichigo?"

"He went home," said a voice that made them both freeze in a tableau of disaffection. Kon turned towards the newcomer and Rukia took the opportunity to elbow the mod soul off of her. She brushed away the creases he'd put in her blouse and looked up. The voice belonged to the quincy, Uryu Ishida, standing now where Rukia had first glimpsed Kon. "He went to check on his sisters," said Ishida.

"Check on them? Why? What have you done?"

"I set him a challenge. That's all." As he spoke, he raised his hands and a bow of blue fire appeared between them, crackling with energy. Rukia froze. Briefly, the tip of the arrow hovered directly before her. Whether intended as a threat or merely intimidation, he held it seconds longer than necessary. It was point blank range. At the last, he raised it by an inch and fired over her head. A hollow screamed somewhere behind her and Rukia started to breathe again. To her left, all the blood had drained from Ichigo's face. No, Kon's face, she reminded herself. Kon, not Ichigo. "I told you," said Uryu, never raising his voice: "I hate shinigami."

"I heard the quincies had died out," she said carefully: "I heard there were no more."

"I'm the last quincy."

"That's impossible."

"Really? As impossible as a soul reaper who's given away her powers."

Another hollow howled.

Ishida raised the bow again and, instinctively, Rukia ducked. She needn't have. Something swept past the quincy, moving too fast for the human eye to catch. It climbed up and over her head, finding footholds in the air itself. But Rukia didn't need to see him to know it was Ichigo. She followed the flash of his sword as it tore down into the hollow before Ishida had the chance to loose even one arrow. Light streamed out of the demon, bleaching the tarmac and walls and, when Ichigo stepped down onto the road, he was surrounded briefly by a halo of fire, sparks rising on phantom currents.

"Uryu!" he snarled, turning towards them: "You put my friends in danger for a game?"

"I wanted to show you what a quincy was capable of."

Somewhere, another hollow screamed. Both men turned towards the sound.

"How can there be so many? You said you used bait to call them out. Is it always this effective?" Ichigo demanded.

"No. Five hollows – maybe ten" -

The quincy's flawless composure faltered as a chorus of howls answered the first and Rukia realised that Ichigo had known they were there before they cried out. His anger was offset by a distant expression in his eyes. He was concentrating, following their movements and tracking them, things that it took a shinigami a lifetime to learn. He knew how many were in the city. He knew far more than the quincy archer and she saw that register in the eyes of the other boy. If it were possible, Ishida's face turned a little paler:

"How many?"

"Hundreds," said Ichigo, without hesitation: "People will die."

"I'd rather die than let a single person in this town be hurt."

"You needn't worry about that because I won't let it happen."

"If what you say is true, this isn't a game anymore, Kurosaki."

"It was never a game."

"I can still show you" –

All four of them flinched as a sound cut through the air, a sound as if the universe itself were being torn apart. The spiritual pressure soared. Rukia felt all the hairs on her body stand on end, lifted by a strange static, and her vision blurred briefly as her senses adjusted to the change. In the sky to her right, a gash had appeared: a dark stripe across the blue day. As she watched, it peeled open and, beyond, languid shapes writhed. Some began to take form: shadows breaking away and drifting through the brilliant afternoon, only to turn their heads at the last moment and reveal themselves as hollows. Tens and then hundreds came shimmering down from the rent. That should have been enough, but something else was coming through the torn sky, something much, much larger.

"Is that a hollow?" asked Ichigo.

"Menos grande." Rukia felt her lips form the words, but could barely hear them as the demon's reiatsu forced the air around her to fold and contract. The static hiss of these aberrations roared in her ears and buffeted them all as if a strong wind were tearing down the alley. Rukia held her arms tight across her chest: "Impossible. I've only ever seen it in text books."

"What is it?"

"A hollow formed from the souls of thousands of other hollow."

"We can't let it into this world!"

"Ichigo!" she cried as he started up the stairs, three at a time. Ishida followed him without a backward glance. "Ichigo!"

Once again, she had no way to keep up with him. His speed had increased exponentially since they'd met, along with his strength and his reiatsu. The trouble was that he was seeing a vast hollow in the sky and was, no doubt, judging himself capable of defeating it. Hollows were hollows, after all. Large, small; their powers were still limited by their animal consciousness. But menos were different.

So she was running after him again. The increased spiritual pressure all around her at least made it easier to follow him, but, even so, she still couldn't help but wonder how much help she would be.

She sensed the changes in reiatsu as hollows were cleansed and their souls released. The fighting had moved to the park and, as she ran along the edge of the lake, she tried to imagine what she would do when she reached them. At best, she might be able to distract the monsters, but she was as much of a liability as a help. What was she to do then? Just observe? A useless, helpless girl, standing by while they risked their lives?

A gaggle of onlookers had gathered on the edge of a broad lawn.

She blinked and came to a halt on the path. Something was wrong with this scene. For a start, the hollows were gone, with the exception of the menos, whih towered above them all, its head and upper torso extending out of the torn sky. Ichigo and Ishida were crossing the grass towards it, but, between her and them stood a small crowd, their clothes billowing in the rush of the creature's reiatsu: two children, a boy and a girl, and two men, one of whom was holding his striped hat on his head to keep it from flying away. It was too late for her to turn around and pretend she hadn't seen them.

"Kuchiki-dono!" cried Urahara, turning towards her with a bright smile. No doubt he'd sense her approach long before she'd seen him: "Come, join us!" She gaped:

"Urahara, you've got to stop Ichigo!"

"We took care of the other hollows. I told Ichigo to go on ahead and stop that menos. It cannot be allowed to fully enter this world."

"Ichigo can't fight that!" Her mind wrestled with the possibility. Urahara's intentions were always difficult to discern, but, in this case, she could come to only one conclusion: that he was taking it into his own hands to rid her of the problem that was Ichigo. "No!" Even she was surprised at the emotion that broke in her voice as she ran at the shopkeeper: "You can't! Not like this! You can't let him!" She meant to strike him even though she knew it would do nothing. She wanted to hurt him. But he caught her wrists easily and held her back, studying her anguish with a bemused expression:

"Kuchiki-dono" –

"I have to help him! Don't you understand? I have to help him!"

Roughly, he pulled her around until she was in front of him, her arms behind her head. He held both her wrists in the vice of his left hand. With his right, he made a sygil in the air and let her go. At once, her arms snapped down to her sides; her legs buckled. She dropped jerkily to her knees:

"This, Kuchiki-dono, is something you have to see," Urahara said, gesturing towards Ichigo, but Rukia was gasping. His magic seemed to be crushing her whole body and it was hard enough to breathe, let alone move:

"Kido?" she coughed: "You used kido on me?"

"Sit still and watch. I think you'll find this interesting."

Watch. He had taken from her the option of turning her face away, but did he realise what this would cost her? A wild fear scraped around inside her head. She couldn't watch anyone else die, she knew. Even the idea of it broke down the barricades in her head, letting memories seep through, blurring into the bright afternoon. Here again, the muddy path through woodland and the relentless sound of rain. She thought she would break into two: one part here, in Ichigo's world; the other part, forever there.

Through this veil, she saw Ichigo run towards the menos as it stepped through the wound in the sky, one foot, the size of several houses coming to rest on the far side of the grass. Ichigo swung his sword at the last moment, aiming for the creature's ankle, but it lifted its foot once again. The edge of one toe caught him a glancing blow and he was thrown backwards. It wasn't clear that the creature had even realised he was there. Its attentions now were on Ishida who was sending arrow after arrow up at the monster. His concentration wavered only briefly as Ichigo rolled to a halt at his feet and blinked up at him through lines of blood oozing from a gash in his head.

"What are you doing, Kurosaki?"

"I thought I'd start at the bottom and work up." Ichigo sat up, shaking his head to clear it. Rukia saw him get to his feet. For now, there was a truce between the two boys as they faced a common enemy. She saw how Ichigo smiled depsite the blood running down his face. It was a cold smile. She'd seen it in the eyes of her comrades as they moved in for a kill, that combination of determination and confidence. Did Urahara not see how much potential there was in this boy? He was just as strong as any shinigami. Just as skilled. Just as stubborn. Her breath caught in a dry sob in her throat as she felt Urahara's eyes on her. Then she could feel nothing but a burst of spiritual pressure as the menos leaned back and trails of pink light began to coalesce around its mouth.

"Cero! It's going to use cero!" She started to struggle again, though she was doing no more than brusing herself against Urahara's magic. "Ichigo can't defend against a cero. I couldn't stand up to one! Urahara!"

"Hush. Watch."

"No! Run!" she screamed, with all the force the constricting kido would allow: "Ichigo, run!"

He glanced towards her. That was all. One instant of perfect focus in those dark eyes; then he lifted the sword above his head and held it like a guard across his body as a stream of pink light burst forth from the menos.

It struck his sword and rippled out, engulfing him.

She would have closed her eyes if she could, but they wouldn't shut. Nor was she capable of taking another breath as a flare of blue light erupted from the midst of the pink. The light of Ichigo's own spirit expanded like the sun, burning away the glow of the menos' attack until he was standing in a circle of his own light. His reiatsu was like a storm, lifting he obi of his shihakusho and rippling through his hair, causing his clothing to whip around him. "Impossible!" she whispered: "He stopped it?" Still engulfed in blue light, Ichigo sprung into the air, thickening it with each step so that he could climb closer and closer to the menos' head. As he reached its chest level, it reared backwards again, spirals of pink light forming at its lips. Ichigo didn't wait for a second cero. He plunged his sword into the demon's chest, let go his hold on the air and scored a line from its neck to its naval with his sword as he fell. By the time he reached the ground, cushioning his fall by finiding traction in the air once more, the menos was howling. It stepped backwards, drawing the sky closed around it like a cowl. It was retreating, reknitting the heavens in its wake. And then it was gone.

Ichigo, panting, bleeding, threw a V-sign into the sunny afternoon air:

"Victory!"

"What the hell was that, Kurosaki?" demanded Ishida, running towards him, but, before he could reach him, a change came over the red-haired boy. Ichigo's expression changed from one of relief and triumph to a look of surprise, and then fear.

His back arched as if he had been punched from behind and he fell forward, making no effort to cath himself. His body, now face down in the grass, began to burn. Blue fire licked around his arms and legs. He turned his head, but, even from where she knelt, Rukia could see the effort it cost him. His body jerked and his eyes went wide:

"What's happening to me?" he said and then, as the fire enveloped him, he started to scream.

"When a tap is leaking, you switch it off," Urahara said at Rukia's side. She realised her cheeks were wet with tears and she couldn't remember starting to cry: "Most people do so unthinkingly. But Ichigo-san is leaking reiatsu all the time. You've felt it, haven't you? An immense spiritual pressure that touches all those around him. As I said, most people would turn off a tap if they saw it was leaking, but ichigo doesn't seem able to do that, which leads me to wonder if he he is already in the 'off' position. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Ishida had run to help Ichigo. He had stepped into the middle of the fire and was sending vast arrows of blue fire into the sky.

"He'll burn to death," Rukia murmured. She felt numb.

"No, I don't think so. The quincy is capable of absorbing the extra energy. Do you understand what that is, Kuchiki? I wanted to be sure. I wanted to see, if Ichigo was in the 'off' position, then what would it look like if we turned the tap on, just a little. He is quite extraordinary."

The fire was starting to burn itself out. Ichigo closed his eyes and lay still as the streams of energy faded and his clothes settled around him. His hair fell across his face. A quiet returned to the summer afternoon. Ishida stood, panting, ove the boy whose life he'd just saved and whom he'd claimed to hate.

"What is he?" whispered Rukia. Urahara made a small motion and the bonds of kido released her. Her shoulders sagged.

"Take him home," said the shopkeeper.

After a beat, she stood up, dead inside as she began to cross the grass towards Ichigo. "Oh, Kuchiki," said Urahara casually. "A menos grande in the world of the living? They will hear about this. They will want to know who defeated it and, when they do" –

"I know," she said.