Foreword:

Hello, dear readers! Welcome to my vision of the future of Bleach. If you like what you find here, please leave a review. If you don't like what you find, leave a review anyways and let me know how I can do better. I'm trying to improve my writing by making myself do it every day, so if you have suggestions on how I can improve my style, I'd like to hear from you!

A Note on Canon: I started writing this at the very beginning of the manga arc featuring the Vandenreich, and I already had a plot outline complete. As a result, this story is becoming AU from the canon of the manga after the Xcution Arc. As I write this, it appears that Tito has already killed off at least two characters who will still be alive in my story. I will continue to read the manga with eager anticipation, but will not incorprate any further developments from it into my story. So in Hisana's world, assume that the assault of the Vandenreich was repelled with fewer casualties than in the manga.

A Note on Language: I do not speak Japanese, and when making up new names for zanpakuto, kido, etc. I'm relying on software translations. I try out different combinations to find the one that sounds coolest, not what's the most accurate. I've also found myself using a mix of anglicized Japanese and English names for things, whichever feels the most natural to me. So for example I say "zanpakuto" instead of "soul slayer" but "robe" or "uniform" rather than "shihakusho". If things come across unclear as a result, let me know and I'll work on it.

Lastly, I don't own anything related to Bleach, Tito and his publisher do. (Not sure why it's necessary to put that there. No one's making money posting here, I hope. I'm doing this for practice and love of Bleach.)

Chapter One: Fate and Awakening

The Living World – Twenty Years after the Winter War

It was a Friday in summer, and the sun beat down on the green hills. Insect noises from the nearby trees and rice patties filled the air. Sixteen year old Kurosaki Hisana climbed the hill, walking along the side of the raised, narrow road bordered by shady trees that snaked through the surrounding fields. Even in the shade it was hot enough that she perspired freely, but at least the school day was done, and soon she would be home. In her hands she carried bags from the village market with vegetables and tofu that would become dinner for herself, her mother Kurosaki Rukia, her adoptive father Urahara Kisuke, and her younger half-brother Urahara Tessai.

Ideally, she would have been biking up the hill, still an unpleasant prospect but faster than walking. Her parents probably thought she was riding home, because she hadn't gotten around to telling them that her second bike that year had been stolen from the schoolyard last week. At her stepfather's insistence she had invested in a sturdy lock and used it on the frame, but it hadn't helped. She couldn't keep an eye on the bike racks all day, and her bikes in particular always seemed to be targets for theft.

Hisana glanced over her shoulder at the small town in the valley below, home to her school, the stores that served the surrounding areas, and the train station connecting the town to the rest of Japan. Hisana felt a familiar surge of irritation. She liked school; it was her classmates that drove her crazy.

Diverting down a wooded path through a thicket of trees, Hisana sighed in relief, the slope behind her and home near. It didn't help that her parents were both as unusual as she was.

Hearing a ringing bell behind her, Hisana nimbly stepped aside as Tessai went zipping past on his bike, which only had to be replaced when he outgrew it. It isn't fair, Hisana thought with a stab of irritation. Her ten year old half-brother had lots of friends even though he was visually more out of place than she was. He had unruly blond hair and striking pale eyes like his father Kisuke. Hisana more closely resembled her mother, with raven-black hair that fell down to her waist and expressive brown eyes. Hisana had her father's height, towering over her mother and taller even than her stepfather. She also had her father's metabolism, possessing a strong, slender build that put on muscle easily.

But Tessai had been born here, and Hisana had not. It didn't hurt that Tessai never lost a fight. Hisana didn't either, but martial prowess didn't do anything for a teenage girl's social standing. It was all very unfair.

"You're going to have to tell them eventually," Tessai piped up when Hisana trudged into the yard in front of their house.

"Quiet, brat," she snapped, shoving him with a shoulder as she stepped into the house, kicking off her shoes.

"They're going to find out anyways," Tessai insisted, following her down the hall towards the kitchen.

"And then what?" Hisana demanded, rounding on her little brother. "Those lazy cops down at the village koban won't do anything about it; their daughters are probably the ones cutting my locks and they don't like dad anyways. I don't want him to buy me another one, I'll just walk."

Tessai's eyes were wide by the end of the tirade. Hisana felt guilty instantly "Sorry, Tessai. I didn't mean to shout. Just… don't tell Mom or Dad. I'm fine with walking. "

"Okay," he said. They entered the kitchen, and Hisana started unpacking the groceries. Glancing at the clock, she saw that she had some time to do homework before she would have to start cooking dinner. She did most of the cooking now. Her mother was a fine cook, but it was hard for her to get around the kitchen, so Hisana had taken over most of the meal preparation by the time she was in middle school.

Tessai ducked into his room, and Hisana headed back to hers. As she passed her parent's bedroom she heard coughing, and stopped to kneel outside the sliding door. "Mom, can I get you anything?"

"Oh, you're home, Hisana," her mother said. "Come in, come in-" her words were broken off by another fit of coughing. Sliding the door open, Hisana entered her parents' bedroom. Rukia had opened the exterior screens, and sat contentedly in the warm breeze. In her left hand she held a cup of hot tea, sipping from it to soothe her throat. She turned to look at her daughter, a lovely smile crossing the right side of her face, her right eye sparking with welcome. The raven hair on the right side of her head was caught up in a simple braid that fell down her shoulder.

If the right side of Rukia's face was as lovely as when she had been a girl, the left side was a constant reminder of what life had taken from Hisana's mother. Heavy burn scars had rendered the left side of Rukia's face immobile, the hair on that half of her head gone. Her left eye was milky white, blind for as long as Hisana had been alive. The burns continued down the left side of her body to her waist before tapering off, and her left arm, the only one she had, was as scarred as her face. Her right arm ended in a stump above the elbow, severed the same day she had been burned, the day Hisana was born. Despite all of those wounds, Rukia's fragile constitution was more due to her internal injuries. A reflexive breath of the same fire that had scarred her had seared her throat and lungs, making breathing difficult, even with the medicinal teas that Urahara ensured she always had.

"How was school, dear?" Rukia asked.

"It was fine, mom. I got the best mark in the class on the English exam." Other than acing the test it had been as unpleasant as most days at school, but her mother certainly didn't need to know that. Besides, the term was almost over, and it was only one more year after that. Then she could find a university in the city, far away from the hateful people she had to tolerate now.

They made small talk for a little while, and then it was time for Hisana to go start her homework. She left her mother's presence, as she usually did, with a vague sense of guilt. If not for her, maybe her mother wouldn't have been so badly injured. If she hadn't been pregnant she may have been able to get away. True, the same gas explosion that burned Rukia had killed Hisana's father Ichigo, as well as her grandfather Isshin and aunt Yuzu, but the doubt had plagued Hisana ever since her parents had told her about the terrible accident at the Kurosaki Clinic the day she was born.

Hisana got some studying done, and then it was time to start dinner. The sun was fading from the sky and she was getting ready to boil the tofu when the faint noise of a motorcycle engine reached her ears, growing louder as it got closer.

"Dad's home!" Tessai shouted unnecessarily as he ran past the kitchen and out the front door. A faint smile traced its way across Hisana's face as she watched her stepfather ride into the clearing in front of their house and bring his motorcycle to a stop, removing his helmet and shaking his head of unruly, pale blond hair. Tessai made a running leap at his father, who caught the boy up in his arms as they exchanged their typically boisterous welcome.

Dinner was soon ready, and the four of them gathered around the table to eat. Kisuke talked about work, Hisana and Tessai talked about school, and Rukia told them about a trip she'd taken with some friends earlier in the day to the larger town a few stops down the rail line to shop for summer outfits. Hisana and Kisuke exchanged a silent look of amusement. It always entertained them in a rueful way how Tessai and Rukia fit in so well here, while they both stuck out like sore thumbs.

Tessai had the same interests as the other boys his age, and everyone liked Rukia, even if they weren't crazy about her husband. Kisuke, on the other hand, was just too different from the other men in the area, most of whom were quiet farmers. He was loud, opinionated, eccentric, and it didn't help that he was the wealthiest man in the area, courtesy of the chain of stores all over the region that he owned and operated.

Hisana's difficulties with her peers mostly had to do with her choice of hobby. If she had been the kind of girl who enjoyed tea ceremonies or volleyball or swimming she would have fit in better, but instead she joined the kendo team. Her school's kendo team was award-winning with a distinguished history, and it had never had a female member until Hisana. They wouldn't have let her in if the law didn't say that had to, and they would have found a way to get rid of her by now if they hadn't discovered that she was a prodigy. She was better than any of the boys in the club, better than the instructors, and had already brought home two regional championship trophies. They all resented her, but they tolerated her presence because she was a winner.

When dinner was over, Rukia retired to her room, Tessai went to play, and Kisuke helped Hisana clean up the kitchen. When they were done, he looked at Hisana with a faint smile. "When you're done with your homework, come out to my workshop, I have something for you."

Hisana blinked in surprise. "Okay, dad," she said. She went to her room, and got to work. It was dark outside and the insects were loud outside her open window when she closed her books with a sigh. Making her way to the back door, she stepped out into the night.

The lights were on in Kisuke's workshop, a separate building connected to the house by a covered and raised wooden walkway. Hisana headed out and tapped on the door. She heard a banging sound, then her father's shout, "Come in!"

Hisana made her way inside, navigating around a few of her father's larger experiments. She didn't know what most of his junk did, beyond the motorcycles in various states of disarray. Those she did enjoy. Kisuke had started teaching her to ride, and she looked forward to having one of her own.

Kisuke was at his work table, and he turned to Hisana with a smile. "May I see your flex band?"

Hisana nodded, and peeled the band of flexible plastic off of her wrist. When she had been born, cellular phones had still been blocky, rigid devices. Now they still had screens manipulated by touch, but the form had changed entirely. Her stepfather stroked the edge of Hisana's flex band in a certain way, and it unfolded itself, first into a flatter, curved panel, and then further into a flat, semitransparent surface that lit up as it powered on. His own flex band was already fully deployed, and he tapped away at both of them, transferring an application from his to Hisana's. When he was done he coaxed Hisana's flex band back into its bracelet shape and handed it back to her. When she put it back on it stayed active, displaying a small map of area, with a blinking arrow pointing off to the wooded hills to the west. "What's this?" Hisana asked.

"I thought it prudent to invest in a GPS locator for your bike that can be activated if it's lost," Kisuke said nonchalantly. "I thought you might find it useful."

Hisana saw the wry smile on her stepfather's face and gave him a sheepish look. "You noticed?"

"It was hard not to. You and Tessai usually drop them wherever it's convenient." he replied. "You're a smart girl; you can decide what to do with that information." That said Kisuke turned back to his work, humming tunelessly.

Hisana left her father to his work, glancing at the map on her wrist. What do I want to do? I want my bike back. With a hard smile, she headed to her room to change.

A few hours of hiking later, the glow of Hisana's flex band told her she was close, crouching at the tree line. Out in the country it was truly dark at night. She was navigating by the light of the moon and a flashlight she's brought with her. Ahead of her the trees ended, and the dark skeleton of a building rose up above her. The old warehouse had been used to store crops, but it had been shuttered years ago and its contents transferred to another building further down the valley. Now it was rarely visited. Except, apparently, by bike thieves, Hisana concluded. It wasn't a bad place to ditch a stolen bike. It wouldn't look out of place if found, and tracing the thief would be impossible.

Remaining motionless, Hisana waited and listened. Only noises of insects and the nearby stream were heard. Something felt slightly off to Hisana, but there were no sounds of people, so Hisana almost jumped out of her skin when she heard a quiet voice behind her. "Don't go in there, onee-sama. It's a bad place."

Whirling, Hisana's hand was wrapped around the kendo sword at her waist she'd brought with her just in case before she saw who it was and relaxed. Right there was the pale, translucent figure of a small boy, perhaps six or seven years of age, dressed in plain clothes. Extending from his chest was a broken chain.

Hisana recognized his face after a few moments. It had been in the paper, next to his obituary. He had drowned in the nearby stream, a few kilometers away. She breathed a sigh of relief. "You scared me, kiddo! What are you doing out here?" She patted the boy on the head, and he smiled.

Ghosts had always seemed drawn to Hisana, ever since she'd started seeing them a few years ago. At first, she had feared that she was hallucinating, that something was wrong with her. She'd been close to confiding her fears to her parents when she met a pair of ghosts, an old couple who had died shortly before, who told her things she found out later were true, things she had no way of knowing, consciously or unconsciously. Forced to accept that ghosts were real and she could see them, Hisana resolved to keep it a secret. She had been old enough to know no one would believe her, and her parents would just think the same thing she had at first; that there was something wrong with her. So she ignored ghosts unless she was alone and only tried to talk to them or help them in private. It wasn't hard out in the country, she rarely ran into them and there weren't many. Trips to the cities had been more challenging recently, though. Densely populated areas had a lot more ghosts!

"What's your name, kid?"

"Takashi," he said.

"Why do you say I shouldn't go in there? My bike's in there, I have to go get it."

"It's a scary place. My mama always said it was haunted," he said in a trembling voice.

Despite the humor inherent in a ghost worrying about a haunted warehouse, Hisana kept a straight face. A lot of ghosts didn't know they were dead, and Hisana saw no point in distressing them with that information. Anyways, helping them move on was a lot simpler than trying to explain their situation to them.

Hisana always got a vague sense of… not wrongness, but imbalance when she met a ghost. It made sense; dead souls didn't belong in the world of the living. She'd discovered how to help them by accident, but now she could do it on purpose. Kneeling in front of the boy, she placed her hands on his shoulder, and focused on the imbalance, on making it right. The little boy's eyes widened, and then his form faded away. Before it dissolved entirely, she heard his voice, faintly. "Thanks, onee-sama." Then he was gone, along with the sense of imbalance. The first time she'd helped a ghost move along was by accident. The ghost of a young man she had met in the city was badly hurt by… something. Hisana wasn't sure what could hurt a ghost. When she had touched him, something changed. His wounds closed, and then he faded away. Now she could heal ghosts and help them move on just by touching them and wanting to help them. She didn't know why it worked, but it did.

Getting up and dusting off her knees, Hisana made her way towards the abandoned warehouse. The tracker led her right to her bike, leaning up against the wall. There were actually three bikes here, all of them hers. Muttering under her breath, Hisana picked up her most recent one, deciding to leave the others to retrieve later. She was headed for the door when she heard a loud rumbling from far above. "Oh no!…" she said in dismay. She hadn't checked the weather before she left the house. Sure enough, as she looked outside, the skies broke open and rain began pouring down in sheets. Hisana went to the doorway, watching the downpour with dismay. Evening summer storms usually lasted for hours. "At least I'm not out in the woods," she said with a sigh.

Unfolding her flex band, Hisana molded it into its phone configuration and tapped away at the small keyboard, writing a message to her father. "Found my bike, waiting out the rain, will be home when it stops." She pressed SEND, and put the band back on. "Might as well get some practice in," she said to herself, drawing the wooden kendo sword from her waist and starting to go through some forms. "Ha!" the wooden blade whistled through the air, accompanying the steady drumming of the rain as Hisana practiced.

It prowled the forest at night. It hunted, its muzzle close to the ground, following the trail. It had scented its meal near the brook, tasty, fresh and young. It followed the path of its prey with the sureness of instinct and practice. It was small, lean, fast. It wasn't as big as its brothers in the cities, and didn't get to eat as often, but it didn't have to worry every day about becoming the prey itself, either.

On four legs it twined its way between the trees, muzzle full of teeth close to the ground. The faintly glowing eyes in its angular white mask that formed a lizard-like shape had no trouble seeing in the blackness of the forest. This was its home.

It followed the trail for another quarter of an hour before coming to a stop in surprise, its long, sinuous tail that ended in a wicked spike lashing in irritation. The tasty scent of dinner vanished at the edge of the tree line! Sniffing around the area, it paused, pondering. There was a trace of another meal, even sweeter than the one it tracked, but the scent went nowhere. It was only present where dinner had vanished.

Its eyes narrowed nervously, and it glanced skyward. Was one of the hunters from the city around? It was small and clever and had grown skilled at hiding its visual and spiritual presence, but it never let its guard down. While looking upward, it noticed the gathering clouds. It whipped its tail in distaste. It hated the rain. Slinking out from the trees, it climbed the side of the abandoned structure, slipping in through an upper window to the area where it made its nest. The rain began to fall, and it shuddered in relief, curling up to wait out the storm before it would go looking for something else to eat. It heard some odd noises below it as it dozed, but it didn't smell anything interesting or threatening, so it ignored the sounds and the rain.

Moroyoshi Nikan sailed through the air, the accelerated movements of the hoho technique propelling him along at a speedy clip over the dark countryside of rural Japan below. As the shinigami assigned to the closest large town near this stretch of farms and forests, the whole area was within his area of responsibility. For most of the time he had been assigned to this area of the real world, this sparsely populated region hadn't been much trouble. He rarely had to come perform soul burials, and he hadn't found a Hollow out here in almost a decade.

But recently, something strange had been going on in this quiet rural valley. He suspected that his soul pager, a fairly venerable model, was starting to pick up false signals, because half a dozen times in the last two years, he had made his way out here from the city only to discover that the soul in question was already gone. After the first few times he'd scoured the area for a Hollow, and his ability to sense reiatsu was excellent, but he had never found one. He'd put in a request to the 12th Division for a new soul pager, but they hadn't gotten back to him yet.

Nikan's pager beeped as if on cue, and he skidded to a halt in midair, pulling it from his sash with a growl. Sure enough, the lost soul he'd been headed towards was gone. "Damn it!" Nikan yelled, resisting the urge to hurl the traitorous device at the ground below. He was going to have to find someone from the technical division and bug them until they gave him a new device.

Nikan was about to turn back and head for the city lights on the horizon when something odd tickled at the edge of his spiritual senses. It was so faint that most shinigami wouldn't have felt it at all, so distant that he almost discounted it. But he decided to check it out since he was already here. Closing his eyes, he focused on the elusive sensation. It was weak, the merest flickering of power, and it didn't feel like anything Nikan had felt before. It wasn't a Hollow, shinigami or lost spirit. It was something else. Curiosity piqued, Nikan set off towards the faint sensation.

Hisana moved smoothly through her forms, and the sound of the rain, the swing of the sword, and the perfect solitude free of distraction centered her. It felt like meditation when she was able to practice like this, body and mind moving in perfect unison, centered and empty. She was alone with the elegant simplicity of the forms and the swish of the blade. Time lost meaning.

Hisana felt the familiar sensation of warmth in her chest. In her hardest bouts, and at times like this when she was one with the sword, something bubbled up inside her. It felt good, warm, like her mother's hugs, her stepfather's laugh, and her brother's smile. It was pure and transcendent and so right she never felt like questioning it.

Always before, the match had ended or the practice had been interrupted, but here there were no distractions or interruptions. Hisana had been practicing for more than an hour, but she felt fresh, rested, renewed. Her eyes drifted shut, and she moved by instinct.

Its head rose as it woke from its sleep, and it sniffed at the damp air. Something had changed. It smelled something… delicious. The air held the tantalizing scent of a new meal. Rising to its feet, it padded out of its nest and into the halls of the upper level of the empty building. The morsel it scented was close. Prowling silently, it followed its nose.

When it started raining, Nikan just lowered the brim of his wide straw hat and kept going. The closer he moved to the strange reiatsu, the stronger it seemed to get. It was coming from beyond the area where the humans lived. He came to a stop in the air above a huge, abandoned building. Whatever he was sensing was inside. Dropping to the ground, he found a door and entered the abandoned warehouse, hand on the hilt of his zanpakuto. His steps guided him into one large room on the far side of the building, and when he entered, he came to a stop, eyes widening in surprise.

A human girl was alone in the room, practicing kendo forms with a wooden blade. But Nikan's attention was riveted on her spiritual presence. A faint golden glow of reiatsu was rising from her skin, surrounding her in a halo of yellow light. It was unlike anything he had ever seen or sensed before.

Nikan stared for only a few moments before something else intruded on his consciousness; a familiar whiff of a reiatsu foul enough to make him want to gag, the seeming antithesis of the reiatsu belonging to the girl before him. Hollow! Drawing his zanpakuto silently, Nikan searched for the source of the Hollow reiatsu, and realized that it was coming from a room above him with windows looking down on the girl. Even as he looked up one of the windows shattered, and a lithe, dark shape with a white mask flew through, headed straight for the human girl with the strange reiatsu.

"Damn!" Nikan swore, propelling himself towards her with all the speed he could manage.

Hisana started to feel a new sense of wrongness a moment before she heard glass breaking above her. Her eyes snapped open just as crimson blur came to a stop in front of her. In one crystallized instant she saw an open hand coming at her, and then it connected with her chest, and she was falling backwards.

Even as gravity pulled her down, Hisana watched the blur resolve itself into a short, muscular man with dark hair and eyes in a squashed, scarred face. He wore a conical straw hat, crimson robes and straw sandals and held a real sword, the steel shimmering in the moonlight. After shoving her he didn't even look at her, turning back the way he'd came and raising his sword just in time to slash at the animalistic figure that passed through the space Hisana had just occupied. The sword struck a glancing blow to the creature's white face, while its dark claws raked the man's side as it passed him. The creature landed and turned on the swordsman in red, who kept his blade up in a guard even as he pressed his free hand to his side, wincing in pain.

The creature turned, regarding them both with glowing yellow eyes. Its white face was like a lizard's all angles and teeth, married to a body like a panther with clawed feet, and a winding, serpentine tail that lashed in anger as its gaze moved from Hisana to her rescuer, who scowled at the creature, then charged it. The creature was already moving, but Hisana still saw a deep slice appear in its flank, black blood flying. It howled in pain, an unearthly sound. The man with a sword was past it now, turning back. The creature rounded on him as well, and they lunged at each other. The creature ducked under his slash and sank its teeth deep into his leg. The swordsman cried out in pain, but managed to raise his sword and stab it down into the creature's neck. It stiffened, and then collapsed with a guttural sigh.

The fight happened so quickly Hisana didn't have time to react to it, just watching where she had fallen. But when the swordsman staggered away from the creature, falling to the ground as his wounded leg buckled, she was spurred to action. Rising to her feet, she approached him cautiously. "Are you okay?"

The swordsman, gripping his leg, sweating and obviously in pain, looked up as she approached. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised you can see me," he muttered. "I've never seen a reiatsu like yours."

Hisana blinked. Then the analytical part of her brain started working, and she took in his garb, and the appearance of the thing he had fought, and it clicked. "You're a ghost?"

He started to laugh, and then winced as the laughter aggravated the cuts on his ribs. "No, I'm not." He pulled aside the cloth covering his leg, wincing at the set of deep punctures and the blood seeping from them.

"Oh no, you're really hurt!" Hisana exclaimed, kneeling beside him.

"I've had worse," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "It'll heal." Reaching into his pouch, he pulled out some bandages.

This close to him, Hisana could tell that even if he said he wasn't a ghost, he felt like one. "Let me help you," she insisted, laying a hand on his shoulder. His eyes widened and he started to pull away, but his wounds slowed him down. Hisana focused on making him right, just like she did with the ghosts, and felt the balance shift within him.

Something different happened this time, though. There was a blinding flash of light, and Hisana was thrown backwards as something flowed back from the swordsman into her, altering her balance.

Even though she had felt herself falling back, when Hisana's vision cleared she was on her feet. Feet that were wrapped in white socks and straw sandals. Hisana blinked, looking in shock at her outfit. Her school uniform was gone. She was wearing robes like the swordsman, but they were black instead of crimson. A sword sheath was belted to her waist, and her sword was a familiar weight in her hand.

My sword? Hisana looked over to where she had fallen. Her kendo blade was still where she had dropped it. Looking at what was in her hand, she gasped. She was holding a real katana, perfectly sized for her. The blade, guard and pommel were a golden metal that gleamed softly in the moonlight, and the hilt was wrapped in white leather.

"W-what's going on?" Hisana said, her voice shaking. Her body felt… different. Lighter, and stronger

The swordsman in the crimson robes was clambering to his feet, his wounds gone. Pressing a hand to his forehead, he rubbed his eyes. "What did you do, girl? Pain's gone, but I feel like I've had one too many…" his voice trailed off when he looked at her, his jaw dropping. Then he looked at something behind her, and his face went pale.

Turning around to follow his gaze, Hisana's mind didn't process what she was seeing at first. She was looking at herself, dressed in her school uniform, lying on the floor, motionless. "Oh. Oh crap! Am I dead?" she said, her voice squeaking at the end as she stared at her own body.

She heard a heavy sigh from the man behind her. "No, you're not dead," he answered slowly. She turned back to him. He had a mournful look on his face. "What's your name, girl?" he asked.

"H-hisana," she stammered.

"That's a nice name," he said sadly. "The man who commands my division had a wife with that name."

"Had? What happened to her?" Hisana asked. She wasn't sure why she asked that question. Maybe because everything else was so bizarre that she'd latched on to the one sane thing in the conversation.

"She died," the crimson swordsman told her. "My name is Nikan." He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing again. "Damn it. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

A chill went through Hisana. Suddenly she got the sense she was in more danger than she had been from the strange creature. "Sorry for what?"

"Those black robes you're wearing mean you have to die, Hisana. I wish it didn't have to be this way," Nikan said. Then he was a blur of red robes and glittering steel coming straight at her.

Instinct and years of practice saved Hisana as her mind reeled. Guarding against an oncoming strike was muscle memory, and her arms had her golden sword up in a block before she was consciously aware of it. Blade met blade, and the shock of the impact was stunning. Nikan hit much harder than any opponent she'd faced before. Her palms stung, and the force of the blow pushed her whole body backwards. He blurred again, disappearing to the right, and Hisana whirled, turning her sword parallel to the ground to catch a falling strike just inches from her face. "What are you doing?" she yelled, terrified. This wasn't a match with wooden swords and a referee. He was really trying to kill her!

"Following orders." Nikan's expression was sad, troubled. It didn't slow his blade, though. The tip of his sword licked at her, fast as a serpent as he struck again and again, and it was all Hisana could do just to stay alive from one moment to the next. He was so much stronger that she couldn't meet his swings directly; she had to angle her parries to guide his swings away from her body as best she could.

Then one of his blows slipped past her guard, and she felt an icy shock as his blade kissed her left arm, opening a long, shallow slice in her skin. She felt warm blood soaking her sleeve and running down her arm. "Please, stop!" she cried, dancing back, trying to get some space between them. He kept pace, not letting up for a moment.

"I can't," he said over the ring of blades. He wasn't even breathing hard! Hisana was gasping for breath, sweat beading on her brow. "It's the law. Any shinigami wearing the black in the world of the living must die, even if she is a kid and a substitute."

"Shinigami? Substitute? I don't know what you're talking about!" Hisana panted.

"That's why this is so sad. No one should have to die for an accident of their birth," he said regretfully. "But the law is the law." Then he blurred again, off to the left. Hisana turned as fast as she could, her aching arms raising her sword to block. But he wasn't there. Even as her mind processed that, she moved by instinct, throwing herself sideways. She had just started moving when an icy shock ran through her right side. Looking down, she saw the tip of his sword, poking out from between her ribs below and to the right of her breast. It had pierced through her body, and even as she saw it her momentum caused the blade to slice through the muscle and skin on its way out, turning the puncture into a deep gash. Hisana fell, landing on the body of the creature Nikan had killed. Then the pain really hit her, more pain than she had ever felt in her life, and she screamed, her sword falling from her hand as she clutched at the deep wound, feeling her blood seep around her hand and down her side. She was hyperventilating, and each breath brought more pain.

Hisana looked up and saw Nikan standing over her, the first quarter of his blade dripping with her blood. "I didn't think you'd move fast enough to survive that one, kid. You're fast."

Hisana didn't feel fast, or skilled. She just hurt, tears welling up in her eyes as she saw him raise his blade. This is it, Hisana realized. I'm going to die. The blade started to fall. Hisana felt the body of the creature vibrate beneath her, heard a low growl. She saw the empty eye socket of its white mask flare yellow from the corner of her eye. Then a sinuous black line shot past her, straight at Nikan. The shinigami saw the strike, but his momentum was against him. Hisana watched in disbelief as the razor sharp tip of the creature's tail sank into Nikan's chest, running him through.

Nikan remained motionless for a moment, and then shuddered, blood pouring from his lips. He summoned the strength to bring his sword down on the creature's head, shattering its mask. With a howl, the ugly thing dissipated into thin air. Without its tail through his chest, he lost his grip on his sword and fell to the floor, gasping and coughing up more blood when he hit.

In spite of the pain she felt with each breath and the blood trickling down her side, Hisana crawled over to him. Looking up at her, he smiled. Nikan looked relieved. "I should be careful… what I wish for," he gasped, teeth stained red with his blood, which now poured from the chest wound. "But I'm glad."

"What do you mean?" Hisana asked him, wincing as pain flared up her side.

"When I saw those robes of yours, I prayed for a way to avoid having to do my duty. Fate works in strange ways, sometimes. Never seen a Hollow… save a life… before." His words trailed off, and when he finished, the light left his eyes, and his head fell back.

Hisana looked at Nikan for a moment before she realized he was dead. Her thoughts were a blur, her mind numb from one too many shocks in close succession. The pain in her side was what brought Hisana to her senses. I'm bleeding badly. I need to get help, or I'm going to die too. Forcing herself into motion, Hisana tore long strips from the dead man's robes, each movement agonizing. Quickly bandaging the gash, she grabbed the hilt of her sword, using it to climb to her feet. Her head swam, but she gritted her teeth and refused to pass out.

Using the golden blade as a cane, she started walking. Don't scream… don't pass out… don't die. Hisana repeated it to herself as a mantra, as her feet guided her home.

Urahara Kisuke absently took a sip of his tea from the cup on the workbench. "Aya!" he cried in dismay, realizing it was cold and bitter. He's just poured it, hadn't he? Glancing at the clock, he realized he had poured it two hours ago. It was almost four in the morning. Noticing the time made him realize how tired he was, once his focus on his work dissipated. Yawning, he put away the gigai parts he had been working on in his safe, making sure to scramble the code. He didn't need to be explaining to his kids, or worse a neighbor, what he was doing with very realistic replicas of human body parts. The people around here already thought he was weird.

He was just about to leave when he heard footsteps on the walkway outside. Kisuke frowned, sensing an unfamiliar, flickering reiatsu outside. Concentrating, he confirmed that his own reiatsu suppression technique was in place. The suppression technique equalized the reiatsu level just below his skin with that of the air just above it, making him invisible to anyone who could sense reiatsu. He and Rukia had been using the technique constantly for sixteen years, and it was instinct. They were even suppressing their reiatsu in their sleep.

No one who could threaten his family could possibly find him, and even weak as Kisuke was now, whoever was outside was weaker, their reiatsu level fading even as he focused on it. But he hadn't survived running and hiding with a family in tow for a decade and a half by being careless. His hand slipped beneath his tunic, ready to grasp any number of small portable "solutions", some of which he was pretty sure could give even a captain some trouble.

Then the door slid open, and Kisuke's heart almost stopped. Hisana staggered into the light, dressed in a shinigami's black robes and leaning on a golden zanpakuto. Her face was white as a sheet, and she was covered in blood. "Dad... I think… I'm in trouble…" then her eyes rolled up in her head and she passed out, falling forward into her stepfather's arms.