Prompt: AU: 1 and 8 (Byakuya and Urahara)
A/n: collaborative piece with TDW, timewaster123456789, and SesshomaruFreak. We own nothing. If you like our stuff we post here be sure to check us out on our individual profiles too! anyway enjoy and please review.
Notes: Based on the bit in the manga where Byakuya does battle with Zommari.
Byakuya felt unfamiliar fear coursing through him, making his hands shake slightly. The last report had said Rukia had been badly injured by one of the arrancar, one who could change his appearance. Apparently, she had managed to land a fatal blow as well. But another arrancar was headed for her location.
He could feel his heart pounding, drowning everything out even as he held his reiatsu perfectly even, hands shaking with adrenaline concealed by the sleeves of his kosode. Why was this taking so long? Hadn't these people ever heard of efficiency? Discipline? Mayuri was late, Zaraki was Kami-sama knew where and the exile still hadn't opened the garqganta. He resisted the urge to shift staring ahead as though he could will the gate open.
He caught the exile's eyes on him and looked up with a gaze that would have left most subordinates and even a couple captains shuffling their feet guiltily and standing straighter. The exile looked away but, not with nerves. He observed the man while he waited, something to occupy his mind, a very welcome distraction at that. A strange man, always smiling though it never touched his eyes. He was always upbeat, never negative or scared, unshakable, unbreakable. A sense of sympathy joined with the other checked emotions. The only things that were unbreakable were already broken beyond repair.
x
Kisuke pretended not to notice the worry behind the cold steel eyes or the sleeves that shook as if caught by a breeze. He focused on getting the garganta open as quickly as possible so Byakuya and the others could get to the scene as soon as it was feasible.
He'd heard the reports, too.
He was taking too long, and he felt sweat gathering on his brow. He'd thought he was past this, detached from it, but he needed to get everything right. Too much was riding on success, too much planning, too many machinations. Too much blood would be on his hands if he failed.
x
Byakuya could feel the tension rolling off the exile. He was trying to hide it but, the captain saw through the facade in a heartbeat. He was surprised, for a former captain the exile was rather softhearted; behind all the smiles and powerful intellect he was as worried about the coming battle as any of them. It was strange that he would regard his enemies so and the ease with which he saw through the facade merely highlighted the depth of that concern.
He looked around but the others seemed not to notice with the exception of Unohana who looked at the exile askance before meeting Byakuya's eye.
Finally, the exiled captain announced the garganta was ready, just as Zaraki jumped down from a nearby ledge and Mayuri peeled himself from a wall where he'd snuck up camouflaged. That he hadn't notice Mayuri disturbed him, it could have just been Zaraki's reiatsu overpowering it but still... he drew his mind back to the task at hand. No more distractions. A few captains gave Kisuke a sideways glance as they approached the gate, but said nothing because, well, the man was helping them when he was not obligated to.
Byakuya held his breath as they began stepping into the portal to Hueco Mundo, landing just outside Las Noches. Everyone began spreading to their coordinates, and he headed for the shadowed tower where Rukia was.
X
Matsumoto had a habit of crying in her sake, too drunk to care that it wasn't befitting a vice-captain. Watching the Huecco Mundo forces enter the garganta as she waited for her own gate to the fake Karakura town she saw Urahara turn his head, the hat shadowing his face from the captains. Seeing a single tear slip down Urahara's cheek, she made a mental note to take him drinking with her if they both survived this, exile or not.
x
He wasn't a man who prayed, having lost his faith in the gods ever since they'd taken his beloved Hisana away far too prematurely, yet still, he found himself pleading with any deity who would listen to not take Rukia away just yet. To not take away one of the few people in this world he cared about.
Please... he begged silently, his focus solely on his adopted sister as he flash stepped to her location. Letting his fear and the adrenaline coursing through his veins propel him through the white maze-like palace of Las Noches. Face set in grim determination. Let her still be alive. Don't let her die just yet... at least not here, not alone in a place like this.
As raced to her aid, his mind wandered pointlessly back to the last time he'd seen her.
"Do as you like," he'd said and saw her jaw hit the floor out of the corner of his eye. He'd handed her the dust cloaks, "There are dust storms this time of year." Ambiguous enough that he could have been referencing west Rukongai, though they both knew he wasn't.
He cursed himself as he flesh stepped toward Rukia's almost non-existent reiatsu, not only was she in danger again but, again he'd facilitated it. Yes he knew full well she would have gone anyway and at least he'd managed to arrange for them to avoid patrols but, he'd still technically failed to uphold his oath to Hisana yet again. Why? Again he found himself trapped, this time between the oath and his duty to repay Ichigo. Ichigo had saved Rukia, he was obligated to help him save the healer-girl. With no way out he'd tried to compromise as little as possible, then set out to pick-up the pieces.
His heart leaped into his throat when he found her, lying on the floor dead to all appearances if not for a faint Reiatsu. One of the arrancar stood over her, ready to finish her off. Rage boiled inside him at the sight, and he sensed Hanataro shiver under the pressure as the boy caught up. He swallowed, focused he was getting too soft by half. As always making sure to remain as impersonal as possible on the battlefield, he determined that his opponent had not been the one she'd fought, pity.
They engaged, the Espada —Zommari was his name— was no more than a moderate enemy or so he'd thought. Then the vile creature had the audacity to take control of his limbs. Well, that's disturbing. He strained to overcome it by sheer willpower and Reiatsu, when that appeared impossible, he was left with no choice. He slashed his own tendons and they fought on. Then, for an awful moment, the bastard had control of his sister. Think, think, his brain screamed as he dodged, desperate to come up with a way out of the catch no-win situation.
She held Sode no Shirayuki to her own throat. He froze for a heartbeat something he would spend a large amount of time meditating on in the months to come. Had his opponent been remotely skilled they both could have died for that.
Adrenaline-fueled instinct had him locking her in a kido restraint. When the he saw that the six-rod-light prison worked, he started to breathe again.
And then he turned to the arrancar, narrowing his eyes, ready to unleash the full extent of his wrath upon him. Because no-one, no-one, hurt his little sister. And most certainly nobody who turned their blade at his pride and joy would receive anything like mercy from him.
"You will pay very dearly for that." he said. Even his voice was like ice.
He cared not about the fear the glorified hollow started showing. Their fight destroyed the tower they were in, exposing them to an open battleground.
Around him, he felt energies spiking and dipping, and sensed Isane nearby.
"Accept my Amoure! Accept it!" was shouted at his kido shield, where he stood impassively waiting for an opening. Not that he needed one, but he had something to say to this asshole before killing him.
What an empty existence the arrancar had, consumed by self-love and near worship of Aizen. He doubted it would understand but, he intended to try to make his point, needed to. Righteous anger rose in him as it hadn't since the last time the infuriating Kurosaki boy had gotten involved in shinigami affairs.
"Have mercy," his opponent whispered. Coward. The arrancar began ranting about the arrogance of shinigami. He listened for a while in silence before replying.
"I am not killing you because I am a Shinigami. I am killing you because you aimed your sword at my only pride."
It was a safe enough statement. Even assuming that they were under surveillance, given the context of their fight it would be apparent that he'd been offended by Zommari assertions of his arrogance. If they were led to believe it was so easy to get under his skin, more to his benefit. In that moment of weakness he'd needed an expression of what Rukia meant to him, even if he was the only one who understood.
X
He waited jaw clenched while the healing was being done. He barely noticed his wounds, it was less than he deserved for breaking his oath yet again.