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Refraction

A Bleach Fanfic

Chaos Theory AU

Chapter Two: Trouble's Never Far

It was this day that Yuzu would always consider the beginning.

In truth, she knew that the seeds of this war had been planted long ago—maybe more than a hundred years ago, if the way some people told it was anything to go by. But she could hardly comprehend the idea of a hundred years, yet. At least not as the kind of time span that might be just a fraction of a single life. Maybe, if everything went well and she was lucky enough to survive all of this, that would change.

But now, and for her, this day was the beginning.

Karin had been deployed to Karakura Town at some point early this morning; the jigokuchō with her sister's message had been waiting for her when she woke at dawn to begin her hospital rotation. It was on her mind all day, but she declined when Isane-san asked her if she wanted to take the afternoon off. She could get through this, and she'd have to learn how. It wasn't a one-day assignment like a Hollow patrol or anything like that. So she turned down the beds in the hospital rooms with the rest of her division, and helped Unohana-taichō with her appointments, and tried not to think too much about it.

It was a little easier than it could have been after she'd received the second butterfly. That one had carried Uryū's voice. His tone was even, but she could hear his concern in it anyway.

I finish divisional duties at four.

That was all it had said, and all it needed to. At four p.m. precisely, when Yuzu's shift was over and she'd stowed her extra hospital garments in her locker, she headed out to the lobby. Uryū was there, looking solemn in his pressed shihakushō, standing near but not against one of the walls, a calm stone in the river of activity that the Fourth always seemed to contain.

Yuzu felt something in herself uncoil. He didn't protest when she wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek against his chest. His hands found her shoulders; he let them rest there, a comfortable, reassuring weight. Like a blanket, or a favorite coat.

"Rukia-san suggested dinner," he said after a moment. "Is that all right with you?"

She nodded mutely, pulling in a deep breath to fortify herself. Letting her arms loosen, Yuzu pulled away, tilting her head to meet his eyes. He seemed to get a bit taller every time she saw him. She, on the other hand… height would never be her advantage.

"I can make it."

Uryū pursed his lips, immediately shaking his head. "That won't be necessary. I will do it. Do you mind if we use the Thirteenth?"

"Okay." Yuzu nodded slightly, then followed him into shunpō. She wasn't as fast, but he kept pace with her so she didn't have to try and keep pace with him. She didn't smile—that was a little too difficult just yet—but it was a near thing.

They landed just outside the Thirteenth Division. Yuzu didn't come here that often, but Uryū led them confidently around to the south side. A small building there looked like a modest house; he knocked on the front door with confidence and opened it a moment after. Yuzu followed him inside, removing her shoes at the front. She thought she could smell something burning, just a bit, but it wasn't clear why until the nearest door on the left opened and a plume of smoke billowed out.

A moment later, Rukia appeared, leaning out from behind the doorway and nodding to the both of them. She looked a little harried, more than a few black hairs askew. "Ishida. It's good that you're here. I… tried to cook the rice ahead of time. I don't think it worked." She cleared her throat slightly awkwardly. "Hello, Yuzu."

Yuzu did smile, then, hoping it came across as sympathetic. "Hello, Rukia. It looks like we got here at the right time, then."

A considerable amount of scraping and cleaning and window-opening later, disaster was mostly averted, and Uryū shooed both of them out of the kitchen, insistent that he could take care of the rest by himself. Yuzu was not used to other people making meals for her, but she supposed it might be nice. So she sat with Rukia in the living room instead, drinking tea and trying to make herself relax.

"It's hard, isn't it?" Rukia sighed heavily and set her teacup down a little inelegantly, the heavy ceramic bottom of it thudding against the wooden surface of the table. She blew an errant strand of hair out of her face, then tucked it behind her ear. "Being here, while someone who matters is in danger."

Yuzu supposed it must be something Rukia had considerable experience with. Karin's message had mentioned that Renji was going with her. So Rukia was probably back in exactly the same situation now. Yuzu knew they were close—even if it had been interrupted for a while before.

Setting her own cup down, she folded her hands in her lap, feeling her brows knit together. "I can't stop thinking about it for more than a few minutes at a time," she admitted. "I don't remember anything that happened at the Fourth today." None of the patients she'd seen, none of the chores. She could guess, if only because there was a routine to it all, but the memories were just… not really there. All she recalled was the nagging worry at the back of her mind, and the more persistent thoughts that took hold if she didn't defend against them.

"It's all… it's really starting now, isn't it?" And Karin was going to be at the epicenter of that very first round.

Rukia nodded. "Yeah. Ukitake-taichō got a call from Yoruichi yesterday. Aizen sent two Arrancar to Karakura Town." Perhaps Yuzu's face gave away her lack of comprehension, because she continued. "They're… Hollows with shinigami powers, kind of. But they can only be made from really strong Hollows in the first place. Menos-class. One of the ones from yesterday was probably a Vasto Lorde once."

Those were terms Yuzu understood. A Vasto Lorde… she'd never seen one. Most shinigami hadn't. And that was for the best—they were incredibly strong. Her teachers at Shin'ō hadn't minced words about that. Only the most formidable and experienced of captains could hope to fight such a Hollow one-on-one and survive the engagement. Everyone else was advised to run and call backup. But the way Ōnabara-sensei had said it, with dropped tone and creased brow, had communicated something a little worse.

Anyone else who encountered such a Hollow probably wouldn't survive long enough to run in the first place.

It had always seemed like the kind of thing that would never really happen. Not to Yuzu or anyone that she knew. The dark version of winning a lottery, or a fairy tale: such an outside possibility that it was more fantasy than reality. She swallowed. But now Karin—

"What do you do?" she asked softly, meeting Rukia's violet gaze with hers.

Rukia broke the contact first, dropping her eyes to the teacup in front of her and staring hard at the dull-colored liquid inside. Like it might yield the answer she wanted to give. Her lips thinned. "I don't really know," she admitted. "You just… keep doing what you do anyway, and try not to think about the worst. You do your best to believe in them, because nothing else will help anyway, so you might as well."

Her eyes narrowed as she grimaced, eyes lifting again. "It's not great advice, I know."

But Yuzu understood. There probably wasn't any such thing as good advice for this situation. It just… was what it was. For now, she had to deal with that as well as she could.

Coyote blinked dull eyes slowly at Grimmjow, knowing the answer to his question before he'd even asked it. There was a certain kind of inevitability to all this.

To the end.

"You sure you want to do that?" It was obvious what he planned to do. The Sexta was not a talented deceiver. Even the fact that he barely tolerated Aizen was plain as day. He managed to keep enough of a lid on it to pass, most of the time. But there was no mistaking that everyone knew that he hardly even wanted to be here. That if he ever saw the opportunity, he'd kill Aizen. Or probably any of the rest of them; that part was slightly harder to say overall. Though there were clear cases of yes.

Still… if Grimmjow did this, chances were good that it'd come back to bite him harder than anything else had yet. Coyote couldn't say he wanted that. He didn't think he'd want it for anyone, really.

"Why? Got a problem?" The other Espada's eyes were narrow blue slits; the pull of his mouth shifted the mask fragment at his jaw slightly. He leaked restlessness in a way most of them had learned to contain already. Not him, though.

Coyote let himself shrug. "I don't really care what you do, but Aizen's not going to like it." Understatement—severe understatement. He declined to mention that Aizen probably already knew. Had probably factored this in just like he factored everything else in. Coyote's comprehension of what their leader was capable of extended far enough to grant him that much insight, at least. Enough to know that Grimmjow was already doomed to some kind of punishment.

"He'll change his tune when I bring him shinigami heads on a pike."

No he wouldn't. Not even slightly.

Coyote might have sighed, if it wouldn't have taken more energy than he felt like he had in that moment. So instead he spoke steadily, evenly. "I don't think he will."

Grimmjow was getting impatient with the conversation. It was in the deep furrow between his eyebrows, the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot in a way Coyote wasn't sure he noticed.

"You ordering me not to go?" It sounded like a challenge, snapped from the jaws of something caged. Something looking for a reason to close those teeth over flesh instead of words.

"Tch." The scoff left Coyote in a short, soft gust. He unfolded his arms, letting them hang loose at his sides. A minute de-escalation. "Even if I did, it wouldn't make a difference, would it?"

There was no reply; Grimmjow looked at him like it should be the most obvious thing in the world.

It was, of course.

He did sigh, that time. "Be careful out there, Grimmjow. You shouldn't underestimate the shinigami." Or Aizen. But he had no plans to say that here. All of the cautioning words he could muster were destined for deaf ears.

Why are you bothering? Lilynette clearly didn't see the point.

He turned away from Grimmjow, leaving the other Arrancar and his Fracción to do as they would. His footsteps were noiseless down the stone hall—he felt a bit like… a ghost, maybe. Coyote knew the answer to her question, but it wasn't until he'd settled down to try for some sleep that he could bring himself to give it, even to her.

I don't want it all to end again.

And there are the codas to Catastrophe's second chapter. Just a reminder that I'm taking requests for scenes or character studies if you want to see something in particular. Cheers, y'all.