BEFORE YOU READ: This story has no historical accuracy, at ALL. There will be eventual slash but that will come much later since this is a plot based story and not a hardcore romance. Ichigo may suffer the occasional OOC momemnt but I tried my best to keep them all in character. If there are any needed warning, they will be at the begining of the chapter.

oo1. The Buried

Off the Carolina coastline two vessels sailed silently on the calm sea. High tide was moving in, claiming the sand banks on the north side of the nearby port. Both ships stayed clear of the deathtraps. They were too large to think of passing over them even at the highest point of the tide. They sailed one after the other towards the port, the larger vessel leading. No flag was flown on either ship. Not yet at least.

At the helm, the Captain stood with one hand resting lightly on the wheel, eyes on the distant lights that marked the port. Land was a dark void before them and the night around him was pitch black. All lights on the vessel had been extinguished to keep from alerting their presence. No one at Port Edwin would predict their arrival until it was too late. A smirk pulled his features tight against his skull. Easy pickin's, he thought before he reached up to his neck and lightly ran his index finger over the outline of the key around his throat.

"Captain, we're in distance," one of the larger crew members said on the lower deck. He didn't bother to take his eyes off the approaching flare of lights.

"Give the signal to the Los Lobos and start loading the boats. Tell the artillery to load the cannons and wait for our signal." The man began to walk away and he called him back, "Also, tell the men to take what they can carry and burn the rest. No prisoners this time. I don't want a repeat of last voyage, understand?"

"Aye, sir." The man disappeared below deck. The captain placed his hat atop his hair, leaving the stark light blue color hidden from view. He didn't need to be identified unless necessary. The ship was already loud enough. He hated when he made it too easy for the bastard Armada to find him.

The long leather coat billowed around his calves. He reached up, pulling the collar up against his neck as the breeze changed directions. Soon, it would all be over. This constant running, the hiding, all of it would come to an end starting here. His search would be complete and the real fun could begin.

Viva La Revolution, he cheered to himself as the men began to load the boats after a small flare had been signaled out to sea to alert the other crew. He watched as they scurried beneath him, wondering how many would survive the months to come. Some had been with him since the beginning, others were just fodder for the cause. The grin never left his lips. Soon, he would be going home and the path of destruction he left in his wake over the last eight years would be nothing but a dream. Burning the town was just an added bonus to that dream.

Ichigo hated pirates. It was just his luck they would attack the same port he had arrived at that very morning.

Cannon fire tore him from a dreamless sleep and sent him to the floor with the inn shaking around him. Dirt fell from the ceiling, coating his already matted orange hair and causing him to look like a ghost. Sputtering to get it out of his mouth, he shook his head and looked towards the open balcony windows. The glow of fire light reflected in the glass as the breeze blew the thin curtains into the room. What sounded like thunder echoed in the distance and someone screamed as something whined through the air and caused another explosion. The inn shook once again, sending even more dirt throughout the room. He coughed to clear his lungs, struggling to get out of the thin, musky blanket that covered his body. Somewhere below, shouts of madness took the once quiet streets.

When he managed to untangle himself, he threw the sheets half way across the barren floor before climbing back onto the bed and falling on the other side closer to his skives. He got his legs through his trousers, leaving them half way on as he pulled his tunic over his head and tied the string. The lace frock was left under the bed, along with his stockings as he quickly pulled on and laced his boots. He reached under his pillow, pulling out the pistol hidden there the night before and grabbed his belt. His fingers caught in the buckle, but before he could adjust it properly, he forgot to attach his scabbard and had to start all over again. Sounds of gunfire followed by another scream rang out and what sounded like the inn door being kicked down left him feeling excited and terrified all at the same time. Once the majority of his clothes were on his body, he grabbed the navel officers ruined coat hanging on the back of the desk chair, threw it on, and grabbed his satchel on the way out of the room. He didn't bother for a key. He doubted he would be coming back for his duffle bag full of useless clothes anyways.

He was cautious when he opened the door, thinking maybe there would be someone not so friendly in the halls trying to loot the visitors. To his surprise, there was no one on the third floor. It was eerily silent in the inn but he could still hear shouts from outside. Softly, he closed his door behind him and made his way down the hall. When he had arrived earlier that night, he had noticed that the third floor hadn't had many occupants if any except for himself. But when he descended to the second floor and saw that still no one was running around, he began to worry. Hadn't one of the pirates broken down the door downstairs? Shouldn't there be some kind of fight going on? No one was even looking out their doors, wondering what all the ruckus was about. Were the occupants just so sloshed that they slept right through the hell outside the walls?

Adrenaline pumping, he moved down the last flight of stairs to the ground floor where the tavern was with vigilance. Expecting to be jumped, he held his sword before him in a defensive stance, waiting. When he came around the corner, he was amazed to see that the tavern was empty as well. The mess from the late night still cluttered the floor. Spilled rum, overturned tables, discarded cards, and stomped hats were only a few things that decorated the ground beneath him. The room was barely lit, most of the candles having burned down to the last of the wicks but there was enough light to see that several of the tables had been moved out of pattern and another one that was closest to the door had been smashed to pieces. The shadows were playing tricks with his eyes, but he was certain that that was a body laying in the ruin of the round table. Silently, he stepped over a toppled pitcher and made his way to the prone body.

Something moved across the pathway of light from the outside leaking in through the open doorway. Ichigo froze, raising the sword in defense of an attack. There was a soft chuckle as a small figure walked into the candle light and he lowered the sword. The inns owner- a small, plump old woman who he couldn't recall the name of- stood by the door, trying to close it with no avail. The hinges had been ripped right off and the area where the lock had been knocked out was nothing but splinters.

"He won't be getting back up, son. No need to be so jumpy," she said softly as if not to wake the rest of the inn. He glanced towards the stairs, knowing that if no one was awake yet they wouldn't be. Turning his sight back to the unconscious man near his feet, he wondered if she had done that or someone else. No one was with them as far as he could see. How could someone her age even manage to knock out a man twice his size like that?

"Did you do that?" Ichigo ask, not bothering to keep his voice down. Somebody ran near the door and she shushed him. She wasn't trying to remain quiet for the guest; she was trying not to draw attention to them.

"Yes. Lileo, that's the bar keeper, had to go check on his wife. No one else is around at this type of night. Is it really that surprising?" The look on her face was amused, leaving him feeling almost ridiculous for asking such a question but it was still odd.

"No… of course not," he lied. He sheathed his sword before looking around once more just in case there were more of them though he seriously doubted it.

"The bastards have no respect for other people's property. A bunch of barbarians, that what they are. Think that they own the world just because they're willing to kill. This one here not only broke my door, but he destroyed my table. It's going to cost a pretty piece to pay to fix this but does he care? I think not." She kicked the man's leg, causing the body to jerk with a liquid like reaction. For good measure, she spit on his chest, muttering a curse beneath her breath. Ichigo made a mental note not to piss her off. He had to fight not to flinch when she looked in his direction with that sickly sweet smile on her blistered lips. "I'm sorry, officer. Did the noise wake you?"

He cleared his throat, trying not to act too lost by the change in subject. "Um, yes ma'am. Rather hard not to awaken when the building is coming down around you."

"Oh, no need to worry. This inn here is strong. Survived the war you know. The only building in this entire time to still be standing after that horrible raid over a decade ago and trust me when I say it'll still be standing when this nuisance passes."

"Yes, well, I'm sure it will. But it's my civic duty to act during an attack. I must be going." He pulled his sword back out, wondering why he even bothered to put it away.

"Are you sure, son? One against that many hooligans isn't that good of odds. What could you do to stop it?" She crossed her arms over her large bosom, staring at him with an intensity he didn't like. With a causal shrug, he smiled with an enthusiasm that didn't match the situation. She seemed put off by that reaction. Ichigo wasn't one to shy from a fight. He didn't go looking for them, but he really hated pirates.

"Sometimes all you need is one to do enough damage." His confidence shown and she wasn't sure if she feared for his life or admired him in that moment.

"Aye, sometimes. Good luck, officer. You're too young to die."

"Death doesn't seem to care about age, ma'am, but thank you." Ichigo gave her one last smile before leaving the old inn keeper to her business. He tried not to think of just how dangerous the situation was that he was getting himself into willingly. He let the need to defend, to protect, be the anchor to that confidence he had shown. What good was he if he sat back and let this town fall while he had a chance to protect it in some way? The words of his uncle whispered through his head, causing a chill to rack his body as he stepped out into the madness.

He had always claimed that Ichigo would end up being the one to kill himself due to his reckless actions. Sometimes, he hated just how right he was.

It was harder to find than he had first expected but finally he found it. The over growth from the wooded path they had taken had left his clothes with stickers digging into the fabric, irritating the skin on his legs and had torn holes in several places. At some point, he had lost his hat but he still had his shovel and the key which was all that mattered.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez stood with his three most trusted men at his back in front of the two grave stones. Hundreds of unnamed crosses stood like sickly grown saplings behind him- a town's history buried in the earth. No one had been to the gravesite in many years. It was unkept and almost overgrown with wildlife. The full moon was high above them, casting a pale light over everything. If he had been a superstitious man, he would have feared the restless dead but he wasn't afraid. He wasn't scared of anything.

"This it?" Nakeem grumbled behind him as he dug the spade into the loose dirt beneath him and leaned only a small portion of his weight against it. His beady eyes read the tombstones as best as he could. He couldn't see too well and he hadn't been taught how to read properly so it was difficult. "Aren't too fancy, are they?"

"Yeah. Now start digging," Grimmjow didn't want to waste any more time than he had. It had taken far too long to find this place and they had to hurry just in case something went wrong. Shawlong was entrusted with his ship, but he didn't want to leave it in his hands for too long.

They got to work unearthing the graves. Someone, Nakeem perhaps, had begun to chant a mantra. Grimmjow snapped at him, telling him to keep silent and to finish the job. No one spoke after that and the only sound besides their shoveling that disturbed the air was that of distant cannon fire and the frogs. Each of them lost track of how long they dug. They didn't stop when their muscles protest against movement, each going on until they found what they wanted.

Grimmjow was the first to strike something hard.

"Finally," Yylfordt muttered as he wiped his brow with the back of his hand, causing a smudge of dirt to stain his already muddy face.

"Stop your whining and help me open it," Grimmjow demanded. The four men pulled the lid of the casket open and Edrad and Nakeem lifted it out of the hole. Grimmjow ordered everyone out and they all happily obliged. Alone in the ground, the blue haired captain stared down at the skeletal remains. Cloth still clung to the body, but all the skin had given away to bones. A few worms that had managed to get in where squirming around. Someone above him dry heaved. He ignored them and without a word, drove his hand into the skeleton's stomach, right below the rib cages.

"Oh that's disgusting, mate," Yyfordt gasped. Edrad laughed at his reaction.

"Grow a pair, blondie. It's just a skeleton."

"Still, that's just wrong."

"You kill people all the time. Don't act like you're any better," Grimmjow said from below, silencing the bunch. He dug blindly until his fingers brushed against something hard and cool. "Got it!"

They lifted him out of the grave and Nakeem held the lantern over his head. They gathered around, staring at the small music box in Grimmjow's hands. He instructed Di Roy to hold it, the smaller of the batch doing as he was told. He reached into his tunic and pulled the key over his head. They were all silent as he took it and placed it in the lock. Holding his breath, Grimmjow turned the key.

It popped open with a small mechanical sound and as he lifted the lid, a soft melody began to play. So familiar that it left his heart in his throat, Grimmjow reached into the box, trying to contain his eagerness. He pulled out a simple folded envelop. The seal was broken, but the insignia could not be mistaken. Unable to breathe properly, Grimmjow pulled out the papers and read them carefully in the poor lighting.

Slowly, that feral grin took his lips. "This is it. This is really it."

"Oh thank god," one of them whispered.

He folded the papers and placed them back in the box carefully. The box was closed, silencing the heart wrenching melody just as a woman screamed down below in the town. Grimmjow looked from one of his crew to the next, seeing the mixed emotions on all their faces from the hope of one piece of paper. We did it, he thought. We really fucking did it!

"Come on men, it's time for the real fuckin' fun to start."

Edrad let out a howl and with that, they descended down the hill ready to celebrate their one, small victory with the anticipation of so many more to come.