Disclaimer:Fill in the blank. I_own Bleach.
A/N: I apologise profusely for the ridiculous delay. Some parts in this just didn't feel right, so to speak. I didn't want to sacrifice better quality for haste, so; sorry. :(
IV
In the space of a heartbeat, there was someone in the centre of their formation.
Orihime gasped as the blond man drew his sword and swept it round in a wide arc, aiming for their midsections.
The group scattered in four directions to avoid injury; their earlier defensive plan countered.
Turning with his first leap, Uryu slapped a palm to the grey tattoo on his wrist, pooling reiatsu before drawing a glowing, blue bow. His first shot went straight for the short, pale-haired man leaping at Rukia and Orihime. Their attacker angled his weapon in Uryu's direction, the projectile pinging off the drawn sword.
'Shit. How many?' Ink blue eyes danced around, counting their attackers. The energy signatures had appeared from nowhere, and they felt nothing like the regular reiatsu he was accustomed to. He would have called it 'Hollow', if they hadn't been obviously option left only-
'Arrancar? Here?!' he thought angrily, firing a volley at the lithe blond, who seemed intent on Ichigo. The man dodged, sent a glare his way and kept after the redhead. Uryu drew once more, but had to dodge the descending blade of a tall, slim fellow.
Rukia took the short man on, her sword beginning to glow white. His strikes were lazy, almost like he wasn't taking her seriously. Her eyes narrowed, and she lunged forward with a thrust, conserving Shirayuki's energy until she had a clear opening. His arrogance would make this easy- but she had no time to play. Orihime was the most vulnerable target.
Orihime moved to assist Rukia, but came up short as a large, fat man landed before her; his huge fist aimed for her face. There was a yellow flash, and his meaty hand struck a golden, triangular shield.
A second flash left a long, deep gash up his shoulder, giving her room to dash away as he yelled in pain.
Ichigo was wielding her black cleaver one-handed at the blond attacker, her attacks ferocious. He seemed surprised at her competence, increasing the speed of his strikes to unbalance her.
Unmoved; she swung upwards, flinging him high. He righted himself in mid-air, landing smoothly on his feet. Ichigo growled in annoyance and moved to pursue- but had to turn and block a horizontal strike from a muscular redhead with half-a-mohawk.
He deflected her sword with a wrist-flick, prompting her backward leap to provide some distance from both attackers. Both men were level now, swords brandished at her. "I don't need your help, Edorad," the blond said with a frown at the other man.
"Who said I was helping?" the apparently named Edorad called back, leering at Ichigo as they both advanced. "Maybe I want her for myself."
Heart speeding, she assessed them both with trepidation, sparing quick peripheral glances at her friends. Uryu was hard pressed to keep away from the tall man shadowing him; and Rukia couldn't defend herself as well as Orihime…
'Someone's going to get badly hurt if I don't do something!'
She tensed with building reiatsu, gripping her sword for a backhand sweep.
Staring down her advancing attackers, she let go with a frightful war-cry. But sometime during the release, she interfered- turning the blue wave to a red-tinged black.
"Getsuga TENSHO!"
O
OOO
O
It was raining - rather heavily - where they emerged.
Ankle-deep in wet, softened peat; he glanced around the flooded, stretching grassland. Black storm clouds roiled above the valley, spewing copious torrents of frigid water onto the earth. The noise of overflowing rivers and falls raged alongside the deafening cracks of thunder; all wrapped up by a howling, unforgiving gale, which tore at his sopping shirt and knifed at his exposed limbs.
'This is…'
Fuck.
'Trust Ulquiorra to bring us through the Flats,' Grimmjow thought in muted anger; glaring through his quickly soaked hair at the bored expression on his rival's face.
'I should've offed him back there…'
Who would've reported otherwise? They could've easily declared him lost to the enemy, and Aizen would have no proof to punish him…
But he'd done nothing. Now he was short two men, up two uncooperative sextoys and tied down by Ulquiorra's ever-watching eye. In the fucking rain.
"Ulquiorra," he began; seething as the addressed man simply turned and began walking off. Just before he lost it entirely and lunged for him, Ulquiorra deigned to speak.
"Calm yourself and think," he said sharply; voice rising to be heard over the screeching wind. "If their Head Shaman is worth his rank, he will assuredly be able to trace our Garganta's path."
"Taking a day's detour will reduce the likelihood of him tagging on our slipstream straight to Las Noches."
"We'll still be tracked, regardless," Shawlong ventured, walking up to stand at Grimmjow's shoulder. Ulquiorra acceded, "Indeed, but Las Noches has not remained hidden for decades due to luck."
Walking up behind the discussing trio, Edorad adjusted his grip on the small woman's limp arm, looking to him. Grimmjow's narrow-eyed glare acceded direction to Ulquiorra, for now. The other man nodded, relaying the 'message' to Ilfort.
Ulquiorra continued, "Cutting across the Flats before wandering through the Sands will afford us the time for our signature to fade. Even then, we won't risk using a Garganta into the City until tomorrow morning."
Shawlong agreed, eyeing his testy leader. "Our signatures should dissipate once we enter the desert- if Szayel has been doing his work."
"In the meantime, we should find brief shelter, until the storm abates," Ulquiorra suggested as thunder boomed overhead, moving his slick fringe out of his eyes.
Suddenly, one of the silent captives behind them exploded into action. "Spirits-forsaken animals! You killed them!" the small woman shrieked, heaving herself free of the restraining hands. She had snagged one of the small daggers along Edorad's belt, and attempted to clumsily gut him with her wrists still bound.
Half-blinded by the billowing curtains of rain, Grimmjow beheld her fury as she lashed out at her captors. It would have been quite the show, but the display was cut short as Ulquiorra vanished from his side, sinking a fist into her gut. She crumpled over his arm, unconscious.
"Ulquiorra," he managed with remarkable calm, "That's my property you're manhandling." The brunet lifted the insentient female over his shoulder, starting off at a flash-step. "She was hysterical. It was a pointless, though expected reaction."
Shawlong and an annoyed Edorad took off after him, on the look-out for a sheltered spot. That left him, Ilfort and the other silent captive.
"Ilfort," he called. The blond looked to him, still holding onto the unresisting female. "You go ahead with them, I'll handle her."
The blond frowned, before complying. He flashed away after the others, obviously displeased. The fool was so horny, it wasn't even funny.
Focusing on the drenched captive, he noted her catatonic state; her face directed to the muddy ground. Even her features were obscured by wet, stringy locks. Given her earlier struggles against him before their subjugation, Grimmjow was surprised that she hadn't been the one to lose it.
He wasn't buying it, though. It was far too early for her type to be broken by the impossibility of the situation. He moved to stand before her, snagging her jaw in one rough hand and forcing her to look at him. Idly, he noted how cold her skin felt.
With something close to glee, he smiled at the dreadful glare on her face.
'I was right.'
"Just so you know, if you pull anything like that, I'll let them take you for a spin right now," he warned, tightening his grip on her face.
She attempted to bite his pressing fingers through her cheek, unflinching in the face of his threat. "I will kill you all, I swear it," she promised, tearing herself out of his grasp and striding ahead.
'I'm going to enjoy this one,' he mused smugly, following her angry steps.
O
OOO
O
Amidst the hurrying healers and shouted commands in the makeshift triage tent next to the Gate, a pale man stood aside; face smooth as the silk wrapped around his neck.
Kuchiki Byakuya looked upon his bandage-swathed Vice; expression bland, emotions raging.
Abarai had been the only one left. The only one to survive the failed assault. And Rukia was still in the clutches of whatever could do this to him.
He held compliments close to his chest, and despite his lack of verbal commendation, he highly respected the strength of his Vice- however lacking in finesse the man might be.
To see him laid up like this, unable to retrieve the beloved friend he'd been willing to die for, allowed the first tinge of fear to creep unbidden into Byakuya's breast.
The return of the Onmitsukido teams at dawn had been eagerly anticipated.
Healers crowded the sides of the Gate, ready to spring into action. Friends and family of the captured girls huddled together against the early morning chill, desperately scanning the horizon beyond the Gate.
He had stood aloof, back straight, staring into the fog overlaying the road. Renji wouldn't have failed him.
Then the littlest Kurosaki had exclaimed, "Someone's coming!" with a finger directed at the misty road.
The gathered crowd had turned as one; seeking familiar features in the approaching procession. Byakuya's eyes sought out a small figure, perhaps just crowning the shoulders of the group, and found nothing.
Not even a flash of orange to mark that troublesome Kurosaki that she'd always been fond of. Had either girl been present, undoubtedly there would be a lot more noise coming from the sombre party.
'Come to think of it- where was his Vice?'
Renji should have been at the forefront, even if he had failed. But no eye-catching crimson ponytail was visible. Now that the group was closer, Byakuya could make out what appeared to be several body-sized, cloth-covered masses; being transported on make-shift biers.
'Shiki, no...'
When the returning teams drew level with the Gate, he had already locked down all emotion. With features hewn from stone, he had addressed the foremost squad leader.
"Report."
With a stiff nod, the man began. "My lord, the retrieval team was lost down to one man- your Vice. He's currently being prepared for transport to the Healers," he replied dutifully; face carefully blank.
Behind him, the youngest Kurosaki let out a despairing sob, turning into her father's embrace for inessential comfort.
"They could not halt the invaders, only briefly delay their crossing the Lethe. This proved futile, as the Arrancar knew of a transit spell. They escaped via an as-of-yet untraceable route- with both hostages."
"I see."
Abarai had apparently been stabilized enough for full movement to the Healer's Home, and was being lifted between several healers for transport. The rest had been confirmed dead on arrival or shortly thereafter.
Byakuya spared a glance for the Kurosakis, where they huddled together against the Gate posts in obvious despair.
'Commoners. So freely displaying their grief for the world.' A part of him envied their disregard for proper comportment.
He observed the tearful daughters-one weeping openly, the other doing a poor job resisting the impulse. Their father was kneeling, pulling his remaining children close in rejection of their reality.
His eyes, however, bore the look of a man plotting grievous injury. Byakuya approved of the sentiment-the family head ought to have a clear head in times of distress.
He turned to leave, inquiring of the rescue troop's leader. "I understand that one of the Arrancar was caught…?" Byakuya asked. The troop captain nodded with grim satisfaction as he replied.
"Yes Sir; he's already in our Lady's hands."
He turned on his heel and left the sobbing group at the gate.
That was heartening to know, though it brought little comfort.
O
OOO
O
Seireitei is an expansive community within the Rukon municipality; a military centre ringed by the numerous civilian districts stretching out to the white coastline.
The surrounding mountainous hills and forests encircle the Rukon on the North and East, which is bordered by the stretching oceans to the South and West. Teeming with waterfalls, hidden crags and innumerable caves, the natural geographic features of this vast settlement afford the Shinigami numerous bases within which to secret a prisoner.
Burrowed deep into the jutting black rocks in the East, where the dawn sunlight cannot reach, there is a holding cell- designed to restrain the more sentient Hollows they capture- built with silence in mind and laced with innumerable reiatsu-suppressing spells.
To this cell, the abandoned Arrancar survivor was brought- and left to the Onmitsukido.
O
OOO
O
The crack in the valley wall was inconspicuous. Which made it acceptable.
Ulquiorra flashed up to the opening, sniffing the musty, wet air emanating from the cave-like interior.
Low temperatures. Breezy. Probably an abandoned Hollow hole. Not ideal, but it would do for the moment, as the storm seemed to have no plans to lessen till later in the day. It wasn't advisable to begin their later trek through the Desert in the sun, anyway.
He spared a thought for the insensate female over his shoulder, noting the iciness of her skin, and the enduring wetness of both their clothing. She had already begun having spasms, marking the fitful start of a fever. He would have to warm her somehow.
He supposed he could give her the still-dry set of clothing strapped to his lower back, sealed in waterproof hollow-leather, to switch into; but that would mean he had to share body heat with someone while he waited for this pair to dry.
'The hostage's health is more important,' he decided, moving inwards to deposit her on the driest patch of floor he could find. Rising once that was done, he applied a modified blasting kido to the air within, although it would build warmth too slowly to be of much benefit by the time her fever might set in.
After a moment's contemplation, he reinforced the reiatsu seal and cut her bonds.
He went back to the mouth of the cave, flaring his reiatsu in pulses to draw the others to their position, as well as warning any daredevil Hollows in the area to back off.
OOO
Rukia came to in a damp-smelling space. She couldn't make out the ceiling, it was so dark. She sat up with mild difficulty, the strain pulling at her bruised abdominals. 'He hadn't needed to hit her so hard!'
She pushed to her feet, muscles trembling. The next thing she noticed was the unpleasant wetness of her clothes. They were still dripping into a puddle at her feet, sticking to her in uncomfortable places, and combined with the grime from the earlier fight...
Unfortunately, her circumstances wouldn't allow her to strip off the soggy clothing. Noting the relative silence, she wondered where those murderers had gotten to. And Ichigo?
"I see you've woken," a bland voice uttered behind her. She spun around, clutching her aching belly as she glared at the emerging man. His face was as empty as his tone; he surveyed her and her puddle briefly. Then he dropped a bundle to the floor. And continued advancing upon her.
She twitched and backed up to the wall, which turned out to be disgustingly cold and slimy. Jerking away in revulsion, she found herself almost nose-to-nose with him.
"Woman, you must remove your clothes," he informed her, eyes boring into hers. "What? No!" she decried, sidestepping him and putting some distance between them once more.
"You will catch a cold, and managing you when unwell is not in our plans." "Then give me some privacy!"
He paused at that, assessing her once more. His gaze raked her sopping, shivering form, coming back to her eyes as he advanced once more, resolute. "Your modesty is misplaced. You are in no position to make demands," he paused, as if to make the statement more stinging, "Neither do you possess anything worth such effort on my part."
Incensed didn't cover what she was feeling at the moment. He kept on speaking; glancing at the bundle he'd dropped, unconcerned by her mounting fury. "Remove your wet clothing, or I will do it for you."
"You can try," she challenged icily, bracing her shaking feet against the slick earth beneath. He gave her an unreadable sidelong glance, before he was upon her.
OOO
The stragglers came upon the chosen shelter, shaking themselves off at the entrance. Ichigo resented being shoved forward by the blue-haired one called Grimmjow, but she much preferred walking under her own power than being carried unwillingly.
The one they called Shawlong stood at the entry as the unspoken watch, surveying the storm outside.
The large redhead, Edo-something, went ahead of them, huffing at the cold interior; leaving the lustful Ilfort at her back. She glanced at him warily, not reassured by Grimmjow's presence in the slightest. He gave her a hard stare, which still didn't hide the hopeful, considering once-over.
Horrible creatures; all of them. What kind of person could even think of sex, after watching two of their companions die terrible deaths- and then leaving their bodies behind to rot!
She could hear a strained conversation from within the cave, with mounting tension in Rukia's voice. Ichigo wasn't relieved by that.
The echoes of Rukia's sudden shriek and the ensuing sounds of a scuffle somewhere inside were far more alarming.
They came upon the pale one kneeling over a struggling Rukia, both her wrists trapped above her head in one of his hands. His other was efficiently tearing at her soaked tunic; her small shorts already tossed aside. Her screams didn't seem to register with him; his face calmer than a man forcibly undressing a female had any right to be.
Heart skipping in fearful anger, she darted forward to leap at him, exclaiming, "Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Grimmjow caught her by the neck of her tattered shirt, halting her attack.
The big redhead behind her was chuckling darkly at the scene, "Looks like Ulquiorra wants to have a go after all," he joked crudely.
"Don't be foolish," Ulquiorra scoffed, releasing the mostly naked Rukia to scramble away from him with a faint hiss. "The silly creature would have caught a fever if I had not taken action." Something in Ichigo relaxed minutely; observing Rukia's form huddled in the corner.
At least it wasn't…
Grimmjow grunted in reply, before suddenly sending her a speculative glance.
She didn't see the hand movement, but suddenly her own tunic was gaping open, exposing her soaked, see-through bindings. Ichigo let out her own shriek, jumping away from him and backing away till she was steps from Rukia's pale, shivering back. The cloth couldn't be joined; she realized despairingly, and she had to squat, shielding her chest with a knee and Rukia's bare back with hers.
She'd been too hopeful. Grimly, she supposed this was it. In a dark, damp hole, leagues from anything recognizable or safe- it was no longer a threat, but imminent. If only she had her reiatsu unbound…
"I swear, if you dare…" she threatened. balling up her fists. She'd kill them bare-handed if she had to.
"Save it, that'll come later," Grimmjow sneered, tearing off his wet shirt and flinging it aside.
His words and actions were a disturbing contradiction. Ichigo stared as they all stripped to their unders, some of them distinctly lacking the basic covering. Rukia squeaked behind her at the sight, while Ichigo burned red to her ears, staring holes into the walls and floor after that shameless display of bare male anatomy.
Grimmjow strode forward, stopping at her bowed head.
"What's this; virginal behaviour?" he scoffed, cruelly snatching at her hair and dragging her across the damp earth to kneel next to him.
Her pained verbal protests switched swiftly to wild punches as he tore at the rest of her clothing. As he grasped at the waistband of her deerhide wrap-around skirt; she reared her head back, driving her forehead into his nose with substantial force.
He grunted at her aggression, cuffing her across the temple. Reeling from the blow, her struggles didn't prevent his manoeuvring her back against his chest. She recoiled from the touch of his body, arching her back painfully as she thrashed around.
"Keep wriggling," he growled, squeezing her wrists painfully in one large hand, "and you'll get what you're looking for." Ichigo stilled, highly discomfited at the situation. He pulled her to lie with him, his back against the rough wall, hers pressed to his bare front.
She didn't want to think about what she could feel pressing against her ass.
Given the chill in the air, a part of her welcomed the heat his body was providing. The rest was shuddering in apprehension, preventing her from relaxing. Did he really expect her to sleep?
She observed the others settling to the floor, the air filled with disgruntled mumbles as they attempted to get comfortable. Rukia was stiff as a log when Ulquiorra sat, back against the wall, beside her; twitching away fruitlessly when he dragged her in between his legs, taking her wrists in one hand.
She stared at Rukia with wide, frightened eyes; her expression mirrored on the brunette's pale features.
"Go to sleep," Grimmjow growled when her muscles remained rigid after several minutes, "you've got a nasty run through the desert in a few hours." She consciously relaxed her body, now noting the mild shivers racking her frame.
When the others seemed to finally quieten, she attempted to slide her wrists out of his slackening grip.
His very lucid voice startled her minute movements back into stillness. "Settle down, you idiot. If I wanted to do anything, I would've already." He adjusted his posture so he was curled tighter around her, his jaw resting in the hollow of her neck, cheek against hers.
"Just accept it. You're not getting home, neither is she." He stated cruelly, his voice thrumming through her chest with each barbed word. "You are going to sleep, and when you wake we'll go back to your new home, where you'll serve your purpose."
She felt him smile against her skin, his voice dropping to a mockingly intimate whisper.
"You're mine now- the only freedom to be gotten here is death."
O
OOO
O
They rose to a silent drizzle outside, stretching out the kinks from an unrestful sleep.
Ichigo slowly pulled on the oversized shirt Shawlong had given her, giving him a jerky nod in thanks, covertly eyeing Zangetsu, strapped along his long back. Her neck was stiff from the awkward posture, and her eyes burned. She dearly hoped she hadn't been crying in her sleep, fitful and dreamless as it had been.
She glanced across the space at her small friend, ignoring the dressing men. Rukia's new white tunic appeared as a short dress on her doll-like frame; the slightly longer sleeves covering her bruised wrists. She sent a hollow-eyed glare at Ulquiorra as he slipped Shirayuki into his belt, beside his own sword.
The blue-haired menace loomed over her, tossing a strip of dried meat into her lap. "We're moving." Grimmjow informed Ichigo unnecessarily, nudging her lower back with a foot. She stared up balefully at him, rising to continued captivity.
They emerged into chilly mist and fine rain droplets. The overcast sky made it hard to tell, but the darkness indicated dusk had passed.
Shivering slightly in the cold evening air, gnawing on their pitiful meals, they looked to Ulquiorra and Grimmjow; engaged in a surprisingly silent conversation. Rukia edged a bit closer to her position, ignoring Ilfort's warning glare.
Ichigo gulped down the last of her strange-tasting, overspiced meat, searching what was visible of Rukia's body for injuries. She met tired violet eyes at the end of her inspection, brows wrinkling at the gaunt look already forming on her previously perky face.
"Rukia..." She began, unsure of how to offer comfort.
"Don't," Rukia said softly, reaching one small hand to her shoulder, "Save your strength for when we gut them all." She gave a small smile, eyes glinting briefly with the defiant, stalwart light she knew well- before Edorad came back to push her ahead as they began their run.
They ran for at least an hour, approaching the dark, rising outline of the valley wall. Then she noted Grimmjow's hand begin to build reiatsu visibly, gritting her teeth at the uninterrupted efficiency of their plans.
She thanked Rukia for her steadfast belief in their shared strength, legs pumping beneath her as Ilfort urged her along behind the others.
She pulled out of his reach; sneering at his disgruntled growl, rushing up to the middle of their speeding party to watch Rukia's back.
'I may not have been able to stop them from taking us...'
Grimmjow made the tearing motion, and she watched the rip in the atmosphere form ahead and widen as they approached the dark hole at full speed. She stared at Grimmjow's back in the second before the Garganta closed around them, her gaze imparting a promise.
'But I will definitely get us both away.'
A/N: Again, I'm sorry for the delay. But I kinda think that this is one of my best chapters yet, ne? :)
Remember to feed the author.