This is a little longer than my other chapters and I considered splitting it into two. Didn't want to cut it, though, so here it is. Thank you all who have already reviewed!

Focus

Wind speed, temperature, distance, movement...

Movement. It moved. Adjustments—

Focus

There! Flying, can't let it escape. Take aim and—

"Hadō no 4: Byakurai!"

A thunderous crack shattered the evening air. Twisting coils moved in on the hollow, the impact sending it flying into a nearby tree. Rushing onto the scene I was just in time to see it dissolve; the kidō had speared it beautifully through its ugly equine mask.

I sheathed the unused asauchi and carefully inspected the scene. The tree had bowed under the impact of the middling-sized hollow, nothing too major. The ground, however, was a different matter: the hollow, already injured from their fight minutes previously, had peppered the ground with its acidic blood. Smoking pockmarks inches deep littered the earth. Eventually they might hit a water main, or injure a human child wandering near here.

I fingered my spirit phone and contemplated summoning the Twelfth Division to clean up, but decided to do it myself. I didn't feel up to meeting anyone else just then.

I took a quick scan around the park, verifying that it was deserted before taking out a small vial concealed within the folds of my shihakusho. I tipped it over my right hand, the specially designed nozzle forming every drop that landed: one at the tip of each finger.

I concentrated reiatsu into my hand before carefully lowering it within inches of the first hole. Vapor ghosted out, the product of the concoction imbibing my own spiritual energy; I directed it around the hole, molding it to its shape and slowly lowering it in as it gradually neutralized the hollow's acidic blood.

After repeating the process for each crater I pocketed the vial and glanced around again, casting out all of my senses. Nothing. Not one hollow. I needed to take advantage of any reprieve, no matter how short; the mission, which at first had seemed lively, was becoming only tiresome. With an easy leap I landed on a relatively straight branch high in the woebegone tree.

I sighed moodily. Just fifty-eight days and twelve hours to go...

I rearranged my legs and sat easily on the branch, my back leaning heavily against the wide trunk. The tree's rough exterior seemed to work as an abrasive, smoothing out my irritation and settling my mood.

I glanced down at where the hollow had been purified. Or had it? They'd said that a shinigami's zanpakutō was what cleansed a hollow of its sins and sent it to Soul Society, but nothing about alternative methods—namely kidō, despite its common usage in slaying hollows. I frowned. My asauchi technically was a zanpakutō, maybe I should have been using that—

Then it came. Like a scent floating in the stiff evening breeze, the feeling washed over me, caressing the outermost layers of my skin and clothing. I stiffened. I felt it: the reiatsu of a hollow. And... what was that? My eyes narrowed as I concentrated on the spiritual pressure. Intertwined with the hollow's as it was, it was difficult to pick out, but it definitely wasn't a shinigami. The two were locked in combat.

I rushed towards the source. As far away as they felt, the reiatsu was nearly imperceptible even to my especially receptive senses. Why hadn't my spirit phone gone off? Damn it, of all the times for the battery to die—

A sudden blast of reiatsu caught me off guard and sent me tumbling. I tried standing up, but my knees buckled under the strain of the incredible spiritual pressure. What the hell?

As the scene swam into view my eyes confirmed what I had already suspected—an enormous hollow, its size rivaling that of the nearby buildings.

It stood tall and wide, its thick torso studded with bony protrusions. Fists the size of tractors swung dangerously from the end of long, gorilla-like arms, coming perilously near an apartment building. Its small head stood atop massive, gray-skinned shoulders, obscured by a bone-white mask with the cruel face of an eagle.

I could only stare, trembling, waiting for those hands to snatch me up and tear me apart, tossed into the hooked beak of that monster. Hollow bait.

I reached up and slapped my face. I couldn't afford to stand around and gape. I reached into my kimono and fished around for my spirit phone; bringing it out, I flipped it open and punched the buttons with frantic fingers.

Nothing. Not a beep—I'd forgotten that it had died. I cursed wildly and threw it on the ground, reaching around to draw my asauchi. Surely Soul Society would have detected the terrifying reiatsu this thing exuded; surely they were sending reinforcements. I only needed to draw it away from the city. My duty was towards protecting the humans.

Its back turned to me, the hollow faced a nearly gutted dining joint, held at bay by whatever fought it; the scene was otherwise deserted. Occupied as it was, it didn't seem to notice me coming around behind it. Flashes of reiatsu flickered in and out of my senses: the same as I had felt before. Now nearer, I took a closer analysis.

Whatever it was, it definitely wasn't a shinigami. I could swear it felt like what some of the Pluses gave off, but it was so huge. More than mine. As it was, it could probably compare to the sixth or seventh seats in my division, if rather raw and unrefined. Enough to keep the hollow occupied and its back to me.

I hesitated. If I set up a more powerful and complex kidō and took it unawares, I might have a slim chance of damaging it and slightly impairing its ability to fight and give chase, but things looked bad for the other combatant—

A sudden roar of frustration. Even as I watched, the hollow cocked back its arm back and let fly an enormous, reiatsu-enforced punch.

Rubble flew. The remaining walls began to collapse, and I thought I heard a faint cry—

But I was already running, spurred on by adrenaline and the cry of a helpless human. Because I knew now, that thing was definitely human.

I leaped past the hollow's outstretched sausage-link fingers, through plaster and jagged rebar, soaring through a dusty cloud—

and directly into the human. He let out a yelp of surprise as we rolled across the rubble, a dangerous mass of flailing limbs and sword blades and curses. We came to an abrupt stop, me being the brake against an upturned table.

I stood up and yanked him to his feet. He looked ridiculous, his hair and face a mass of dusty white and his clothing no better. I could only imagine how my dark shinigami uniform was like. Ah, well, this wasn't topping my list of priorities at the moment.

"Wha—" he began, but I cut him off.

"Don't speak," I said sharply. "Don't speak, don't struggle, don't breathe if you can help it. Just don't pass out." His mouth opened and closed, apparently lost for words. "No questions? Good, because we are out of here—"

Then it was the hollow's turn to cut me off with an irritated snort. "A shinigami?" it said, narrowing its greedy yellow eyes at me. "I was not expecting two spiritually rich creatures to wander across my path today." With that it extended a lazy hand, obviously not expecting any resistance from an insignificant bug like me.

It was wrong. A metallic flash, a scream of rage—I quickly sheathed my asauchi and slung the human over my shoulder, bounding out of the diner and away from the hollow holding its stub of a finger to itself.

"Damn you!" it howled. I focused all my concentration into running and not peeing myself. Man, I was pumped. Terror does a thing for your running ability. Where the hell was backup?

I just ran. My brain made an unconscious decision, I think, to direct me towards the park, because I was only thinking, run. The human bounced like a sack of potatoes against my back. Dead weight.

Finally we reached the park, the same location where I had fought the last hollow. I maneuvered around the still-smoking craters, dumping the meatbag on the ground where he slumped against the tree, head lolling dazedly.

I put my hands on my knees and panted. There was no way I could keep this up, especially not weighted down as I was, which I wouldn't; the human was too full of reiryoku to be ignored by the hollow. If the hollow really tried, it could catch up quickly enough, but it seemed rather slow and lazy as hollows go. I raised my head and took a good look at him for the first time.

Our rushed flight had cleared most of the dust from his hair and face, and, now that I looked, he was just a kid. A dangerous, explosive-power-slinging kid. What was that? The scorch marks in the café were not the hollow's doing. A shock of rather singed and dusty reddish hair fell over warm brown eyes, which were, at the moment, wide-eyed and fearful. I estimated him at around seventeen years of age.

I glanced behind me; the hollow would take some time to catch up. Sitting down, I redirected my attention towards the kid. "What was that?"

He gave a start and looked up. "What?" he asked, looking confused.

I scowled and, reaching forward, grabbed a handful of shirt and hoisted him into a sitting position. "I said," I intoned deliberately, "what was that?"

"That thing?" he said, shaking slightly. He glanced behind me. "I don't know, it just popped up, I don't know where it came from, or, or what—"

I waved his words away. "No, that's a hollow, evil spirit, whatever. What was that flashy light you just made?"

"Me?" He glanced down at his hands. "I don't know that, either, it's something I've just been able to do. A few days."

I nodded slowly. That would explain why he had never seen a hollow before now; only recently was the reiatsu released from the constraints within his body. He was not a receiver; he was a source.

He looked at me uncertainly. "Does that... that thing have anything to do with the people I've seen? The ones only I can talk to? My friends called me crazy."

"It certainly does. Those are its prey." I tried, unsuccessfully, at sitting up.

I looked up to find him towering over me. "Here," he said, extending a helpful hand. As I reached for it, his eyes roved over my clothing, lingering at the sheathed sword. "You're one of those, too, aren't you." It didn't sound like a question. "What are you?"

I took his hand and pulled myself up. "A shinigami," I said vaguely, dusting myself off.

His eyes widened. "Shinigami?"

"That's right." I drew my asauchi and faced the stinging wind of the nearing hollow's reiatsu. "We're just glorified ghosts, you see."

He glanced back over; I knew he could feel it. Anxiety was etched on his face. "You can really take on that thing?"

"No," I said shortly.

"Ah." He glanced over. "Then why?"

I smiled. "Because it's my job." He looked at me with disbelief. "I know, sucks, right? Think about this next time you're safely flipping hamburgers at McDonald's—"

The ground shuddered, effectively cutting off their conversation. Reiatsu scythed through the air, leaving visible ripples in my clothing and hair. The hollow was making its way into my line of sight. My grip around my asauchi tightened; I felt oddly calm.

I looked over to him. "Are you up to doing anything?"

Bringing his hands up to his face, he set his face into one of concentration. Trembling knees and a drooping figure betrayed his fear and fatigue, adrenaline apparently the only thing keeping him on his feet.

Several seconds—a spark. His hands dropped to his sides; he looked defeated. "No," he whispered, eyes cast down.

I reached over and patted his shoulder cheerily. "Don't worry, kid, this won't be a last stand or anything. Just watch." I realized, to my surprise, that I wished with all my heart that it were true, wished that I could save this one human. What kind of shinigami couldn't save a single human boy?

The hollow approached. Only a few moments left to live. I'd given up hope that help would come. My one goal, now, was to delay it for a few minutes, delay it enough to give the boy a chance to run, reduce the number of humans it consumed—

Something warm ran down my cheek. I reached up and felt it. Tears? Why was I crying—?

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. "I know what you're thinking," a voice said, right in my ear. "I won't run. I won't leave you. That monster is my responsibility; it came after me. Please, don't make me leave."

I nodded. There was no chance of convincing him, I knew. Turning my head, I stared into his eyes, inches from mine. "You don't mind dying, then?"

He shook his head slowly, releasing my shoulder and returning to his place. I heard the hollow stop meters from where we stood.

I adopted a ready stance. "That's good."

I looked up into blazing yellow eyes. Despair and defeat melted away to be replaced with utter certainty.

I raised my sword. "I've changed my mind," I said, and found that I meant those words, "neither of us will be dying." With that I was ready. My hand was still; my breathing even. I felt my heart calm.

The hollow looked down with great disdain. "You aren't running?"

I didn't answer.

"Shame," it said, and reached down.

I closed my eyes and opened them elsewhere.

Darkness greeted me. Stars, shocking contrast against the pitch black sky, surrounded a great blazing moon that bathed the landscape in silver. They were cheery lanterns guarding against the encroaching darkness.

I looked down. My feet stood upon the glassy black surface of a lake, extending infinitely in all directions. Even as I watched, the reflection of the moon reformed on its surface, generating my own memories from both the near and distant past. I watched as my emotions played out for me to see.

I watched what was the most immediate, and strongest: my desire to save the boy. I saw his face, metamorphosing from terror to curiosity, to confusion and uncertainty, to determination and acceptance. All from the short span I had known him.

A presence drew near, something vaguely recognizable, like a old friend long since seen. I felt rather than saw it stop inches behind me.

What is your wish? it whispered, its voice mesmerizing yet seductive. The barest of a breath brushed against the back of my neck.

I closed my eyes, but the images continued to play in my mind. "To save him, and be able to call myself a death god."

It paused. What must I do?

"Lend me your power," I whispered, urgency betraying my voice.

Silence.

A glow enveloped me, bathing me in a bright white radiance richer than the moon. It lifted me high into the air, and I was shooting towards the sky and its bright, bright moon—

And the world exploded around me.

It felt like the worst hangover of my life.

As I steadily drew nearer to complete consciousness, voices tugged at the edge of my mind. Reiatsu washed over me, a lulling rhythm to match my own. All around me. Was I in the hollow's belly...?

Hollow.

My eyes snapped open and I bolted upright.

Or I tried to. I lay back, gasping in pain; each movement felt like a knife in my ribs. Concerned hands held me down against the grassy earth. I stared up into the faces of a small group of people, who were, judging by the kits slung across their shoulder, a squad from the Fourth Division. The setting sun cast a deep red glow across their faces.

"Please don't move; we've only just pulled your life out of danger." I looked over to the owner of the voice: a woman at my side. Her hands glowed a pale green over a part of my body I couldn't see. My right hand.

Experimentally, I tried to wiggle my fingers. Nothing. Very carefully, I lifted my head to stare over myself.

And was met with the most gruesome sight of my life. My breath caught in my throat.

The skin was blackened and crisp, the fingers shriveled into twisted lumps of flesh. I had a feeling that I should be screaming in agony right then, but I felt nothing. My breath quickened into painful, panicked gasps.

Gentle fingers brushed my face and I instantly felt drowsy. "Please calm down," the woman said. "This hand is the worst of it. We healed the rest of your body and regrew your hair, but some unknown force caused internal injuries. Don't exert yourself."

I finally found the voice to speak in the barest croak. "What... what happened?"

"You don't remember?" I twitched my head to the side. "We found you like this. The entire place is a mess."

Carefully, I tilted my head to look to the side, and was met with sloping ground. I looked around. We were in a shallow hole, the edges some several dozen feet away. Singed wood littered the freshly overturned earth. Shinigami swarmed the scene, some taking samples of the soil, others studying the formation with apparent interest. Several off to the side looked around warily, fingering their zanpakutōs.

We were in a crater, and I was the epicenter.

I took a look down myself and blushed. Most of my shihakusho was burned away; someone must have taken pity on me and covered all the important bits with the remaining scraps. "Here," the woman said, and draped a pale blue hospital gown over me to preserve my modesty.

I sighed and closed my eyes. Memories welled up unbidden: the flight, overwhelming despair, utter resolve and conviction...

The human boy...

My eyes fluttered open. "Where is he?" I whispered.

She frowned. "Who?"

I gestured slightly with my healthy left hand. "A human kid. He was here, and the hollow—"

Footsteps. Someone was approaching to my left. Twisting my head slightly, I dully took note of an armband with the character 12 inscribed on it.

Kurotsuchi Nemu, Twelfth Division.

"You are awake?" she asked. I didn't answer. She studied me carefully, stoic face and impassive green eyes giving nothing away. She gestured towards my shredded clothes. "We found you like this. Someone covered you before fleeing the scene; you were also somewhat healed, enough to preserve your life until the Fourth Division arrived. Who was it?"

"Really, she shouldn't be talking—" the woman said anxiously, but I cut in over her, my voice stronger than before.

"A human boy. He can see us, his powers are developed, and—" I hesitated, "I believe he is a natural source, rather than a receiver."

She watched me impassively. "And you believe he healed you?"

I nodded.

She turned to leave. "Wait," I called. She turned around and I looked her in the eye. "Why did it take so long for Soul Society to arrive? My spirit phone was out of power, though I could swear I replaced the batteries before I left. A hollow that enormous could hardly fail to be detected by you lot."

She hesitated. "It was only late in the battle that our equipment managed to pick up a reiatsu signal, and it did not belong to that hollow."

Surprised, my mouth hung open. "Who, then? The boy's?"

She shook her head. "In addition, as it is now, it is impossible to determine exactly how the hollow died. Yours, the hollow's and the human's reiatsu are muddied and entwined together in the entire area, but with you unconscious during the fight we could safely assume that the boy was the one who produced the blast and incinerated the hollow. It's strange, though," she continued, "another hollow's spiritual energy was found. And it was strange, somehow. It didn't belong to an ordinary Gillian." With that she left, leaving a very confused me in the center of a crater caused by god knows what.

I sat perched on the roof of the diner, Kurotsuchi's words playing over and over again in my head.

I didn't remember what happened during the fight, or just after. They told me that they could not find any trace of the human's reiatsu leaving the scene. My insides twisted. Without me having been healed, I would have been certain that he had been devoured by the hollow.

He had healed me. I brightened at that. That meant that he was still alive, and out of the greedy grasp of the Twelfth Division. I found myself wishing that I hadn't mentioned him at all; I needed to find him, and quickly, before Soul Society caught up. I didn't know how, yet.

I wondered how he managed to evade trained professionals, experts at tracking aided by devices produced by the Twelfth Division itself. Perhaps he had ungodly reiatsu manipulation skills. How else could he have healed me, without any training or experience? He would have been exhausted from pushing his body past the brink like that.

I sighed and shelved these thoughts away. Leaning back, I closed my eyes and sank into a doze. Shapes swam into view: the terror of the flight, the hollow's sneering face, a bright, bright disc of shining silver—

My eyes snapped open. What was that? Just a dream...

Leaning forward, I studied the throng of humanity making its merry way through the streets.

It was then that I saw it. A bobbing head weaving in and out of the crowd; a flash of pale pink; the glare reflected off an ostentatious pair of glasses.

An image, a memory burned into my brain flared to life. A darkened room, voices, light, pain—

My breath caught in my throat.

Szayel.

Mmm, got you there, did I? Too bad, I call owari for now.

Reviews are treasured! Maybe you can tell me whether you would want OCxSatsuki or IchigoxSatsuki, because I'm flipping between the two right now.