A/N: Hello, and welcome to chapter four! I still don't have anything new to say, so I won't waste your time with my rambling!

Disclaimer: I absolutely do not own Bleach – not at all. But I do own a few random characters scattered sporadically throughout this story.

Second Chance

Chapter Four: Dangerous Situations II

Orihime could feel Ichigo's eyes on her as she cut through the battlefield, and she tried to tell herself that he was just concerned in the same way any Lieutenant would be concerned about any Captain other than their own – or, for that matter, the same way anyone would be concerned about a comrade running into a dangerous area. It certainly wouldn't make sense for him to be concerned in any other way. Nor would it make sense for her to feel strangely happy by the notion that there might be some other reason for his concern.

But before she could think further on the matter she had reached her destination.

The dying – and dead – men weren't all gathered in a small cluster, however no one was fighting around them, either. The remaining combatants had moved their battles away from the defeated Soul Reapers.

This was good for her – it meant she could use her preferred technique.

Shifting the weight of Shun Rikka in her hand, she held the sword out and called, "Souten Kisshun." The blade flashed gold, and then a large golden dome had formed over the bodies of the Soul Reapers who had fallen in the explosion.

Orihime moved to the one man who was still conscious (though barely), and knelt just on the other side of her healing dome. Resting her free palm over the golden energy, she said gently, "Try to relax. In just a few minutes this pain will go away, I promise."

The man only groaned in response, still clutching at his chest. From her new position, Orihime could see that a steady stream of blood was oozing from beneath his palm. It was a miracle he hadn't lost consciousness.

"And just what do you think you're doing, woman?" an unfamiliar male voice asked from behind Orihime.

Gray eyes widening slightly, Orihime turned, still kneeling, and faced the man who'd spoken. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair that hung low, covering his left eye and dancing along his shoulders. His jaw was covered in dark whiskers and his one exposed eye was cruel and filled with hate. In his right hand he held a sword, which was most likely a zanpakutou.

Keeping her voice stable, Orihime replied, "I'm healing my men."

"I can see that," the man spat. "What makes you think that's okay?"

"Their lives aren't yours to end," Orihime replied firmly, not allowing herself to be cowed by this man.

"Sure they are," he said with a faint shrug. "They – like you – attacked us. We have the right to defend ourselves."

"Innocent people don't surround their homes with landmines," Orihime pointed out. "But if you want to stop the fighting, all you have to do is surrender. All we want to do is get a few answers."

"Lying bitch," the man growled. His hand shifted, and so did his spiritual pressure. "We'll never surrender. But maybe they'll listen to us when we kill one of their Captains." He lifted his sword and opened his mouth again to release his weapon's hidden power.

Orihime had no intention of falling victim to this man. Raising her free hand quickly, and with an internal wince, she called, "Hado number four: byakurai."

The sword had begun to glow, but it was no matter. A thin beam of crackling energy shot out of Orihime's fingertips and collided with his chest. The man went flying backwards, landing on his back and grunting loudly. There was no doubt that her attack had damaged him.

"Roar, Zabimaru!" Renji bellowed as he swung his zanpakutou once more. Obediently, the blade extended and collided with half a dozen armed men, knocking them back and causing not a little bit of damage. But he was beyond caring; if their enemy was going to jump on his sword and die, he wasn't going to feel bad about it. He had half a mind to use his bankai, just to see how many would throw themselves in the way of his weapon then.

Just as the idea became too tempting, he forced himself to glance behind him.

Rukia was awake now, and propped against a tree trunk, her zanpakutou resting loosely in her hand. Beside her the Fourth Seat of Squad Four worked quickly to heal her injuries. She wasn't breathing heavily any more, and the bleeding seemed to have stopped, so he supposed it was alright if he started breathing again.

The landmines had caught them all off-guard. Their enemies hadn't seemed to be dancing carefully along the ground beneath them, so no one had considered it a threat so close to their base. But apparently they were all simply well aware of the exact locations of each deadly device, and knew just where to step.

The Soul Reaper who'd triggered the first, at least for them, had been blown to pieces. There was simply nothing they could do for him, especially with Orihime so far away.

But Rukia had been only a dozen feet away, and the explosion had done significant injury to her as well. And when Rukia had cried out, suddenly flying violently through the air, Renji had nearly had a heart attack of his own.

He'd abandoned the man he'd been fighting, flash-stepping behind her to catch her before she could impale herself on the large branch of a nearby tree. She had been bleeding so badly that Renji wasn't actually sure if she was alive at first, and it wasn't until he'd seen her breathing – with effort, yes, but breathing none the less – that he'd been able to think enough to bark an order at the senior officer from Fourth.

In truth, he was amazed she was already conscious. But then again, Rukia had always been every bit as stubborn as he was. So maybe I should be amazed she's sitting still and allowing him to heal her, he mused, trying (and failing) to pick up his own mood with mild humor.

But she'll be fine, he reminded himself. So he returned his attention to the fight, set his glare on a man who was probably older than he himself, and lunged.

Fine or not, she had bled. And so would they.

The kidou hadn't kept her opponent back nearly as long as Orihime would have liked. He had come at her again in under a minute, and Orihime had been forced to parry his blade with her own. Sword fighting had never been her specialty, though she was certainly capable with it, for which she was grateful. She wanted to block him with one of her shields, but the more she drew on her zanpakutou, the longer it would take for her to heal her injured. So, for now, her zanpakutou would serve her only as a sword.

If she could get him far enough back she knew she could ensnare him with a bakudo, but he was too strong. She couldn't push him away. In fact, the longer their swords clashed, the more his strength seemed to be increasing. Her footing, which had been solid, was starting to become weaker; she was beginning to slide, slowly, backwards. As it was, she was only a few feet from her Souten Kisshun. She simply didn't have that much room to slide back.

"You know," he snarled, "I expected more from a Captain."

"I already told you," Orihime defended, her muscles quivering from the effort to keep them in place, "I don't want to fight."

"Too bad!" the man cried, suddenly putting more power behind his sword.

It wasn't the spiritual pressure that had Orihime taking a step backwards – that she could handle – but the physical strength of his push. He was just too much stronger than her. But I have to hold him, she told herself firmly.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, a manic grin curving his lips and lighting his one visible eye as he recognized his impending victory. "I knew it, you're weak! They should never allow a woman to be Captain!"

Orihime grit her teeth, offended at his insult but knowing better than to fall for it. Letting him goad her would be her undoing, which was, of course, why he was trying.

"Now you die!" her enemy declared as, again, he increased the strength he was pouring into his attack.

Her heart tripped as she realized he was going to overpower her. But an instant later the fear was gone, replaced with surprise and relief.

"Over my dead body!" Ichigo cried as he appeared to the side, swinging Zangetsu violently.

The larger man was forced to pull away in order to block Zangetsu, and he used the momentum of Ichigo's swing to leap backwards. It was clear he recognized the strength in Ichigo's attack.

"I'm so sorry," Orihime said as her arms fell to her sides.

"Don't worry about it," Ichigo replied, placing himself in front of her. "You're busy doing something important. I'll cover you."

She smiled at him, though the gesture was pointless as his back was turned to her. Murmuring another 'thank you,' Orihime turned and knelt once more beside her Souten Kisshun. If she could just focus, she could have them healed in a few more minutes.

Ikkaku was having a blast. Endless, at least tolerably good, opponents were streaming toward them, and none of them had tried to run. Whatever was motivating them was enough, at least, to keep them holding their ground and fighting back. Which was all Ikkaku had really wanted out of this mission anyway.

He had led the charge when word had finally come that they were clear to attack. And when the landmines went off Ikkaku had had to laugh. Nothing like declaring that they know they're weaker than us, he thought fleetingly as he aimed at a new opponent.

Around him, Yumichika and the rest of his team fought with opponents of their own. Or, rather, the rest of the team that was still conscious.

The two members of Orihime's squad that had been assigned to them were busy trying to keep several of the men alive, but Ikkaku had faith. He had faith that Orihime would have chosen from only her best, most combat-capable officers. And if Orihime believed that they could keep he and his team alive, then so did he.

Orihime's focus had returned to the task at hand, and the men beneath her Souten Kisshun were almost entirely healed, when an unexpected sound assaulted her ears.

From behind where she was kneeling Ichigo suddenly cried out in pain.

Eyes widening, Orihime stood and spun, afraid to see his injuries but knowing that she had to know. If he had gotten hurt protecting her she didn't know what she'd do – except that she'd fix him.

But what she saw was not what she'd expected. He wasn't on the ground, there was no steadily growing pool of blood beneath him, and he wasn't clutching any wounds. Instead of any of that, Ichigo was on fire.

There was something glowing, protruding from his stomach. It was shaped like the blade of a sword or dagger. It wasn't glowing with power, it was glowing with heat, heat that was feeding the flames. And the flames were everywhere, curving around his torso and climbing up his arms, chest, and back, while spreading down his legs and threatening to overtake his face.

As she watched, frozen in unexpected terror, Ichigo ground his teeth and reached up with one burning hand. He wrapped that hand around the glowing blade in his stomach and pulled sharply. When it was no longer impaling him the flames receded, seeming to follow it, and he threw it as far as he could in his now-weakened state.

"Impressive," his opponent declared, lifting his weapon and pointing it toward Ichigo. "You're strong, Soul Reaper, I'll give you that. But you're not strong enough."

Ichigo managed to glare darkly at his opponent, using Zangetsu to keep himself standing. His voice was raw and angry when he said, "You have no idea…how strong I am, you bastard!"

The man made to reply, but his words were cut off as a bright red fireball slammed into him. He flew backwards from the force of the resulting explosion, his shocked cry of pain echoing after him.

Orihime moved up to Ichigo and lightly rested one hand on top of his, which were still bracing his weight on Zangetsu. When he looked up at her, surprised, she smiled softly and said, "Hold still; I'll patch you up in no time, okay?"

"But-" he began, knowing full well she'd been busy just a minute ago.

She moved her hand to drop two fingers lightly over his protesting lips, cutting him off and causing his eyes to widen, before she said, "They're alright. They'll all live, they just haven't regained consciousness yet, so I can spare a minute to take care of you, I promise." Even as she spoke, she stepped back and a golden dome formed over him.

He was dumbfounded for a long minute even as the pain of his burns began to fade. All? he repeated silently. How is that possible? Weren't some of them already dead?

His train of thought derailed when he realized that the man he'd been fighting – who'd identified himself as Iori – was back on his feet. Damn, Ichigo growled silently, what the hell is he made of? "Captain," he said aloud, surprised at how much easier it was to talk already. "Behind you!"

Orihime lifted her gaze to his when he spoke, before frowning and turning to see what Ichigo was warning her about. She sighed when she saw him standing once again, because it meant she'd have to attack him again.

"So that's how it's gonna be, huh?" Iori said, adjusting his grip on his sword. "Well, two can play that game." He held his sword out, then, and with a quick motion he sent the sword spinning in rapid circles.

Kidou, Ichigo realized as the power built and shot forth. He shifted his focus back to Orihime then, hoping she had something ready to counter it, and saw her lips moving. Only the last word reached his ears.

"Danku," Orihime said calmly. The attack slammed harmlessly into a wall of energy.

Unfortunately, Iori had predicted that his attack would fail, and so he'd used it as a decoy. While his attack was crashing into her shield, he flash-stepped wide, coming around from the side.

Orihime spun when she realized what he was doing, and she watched as he attempted to shatter the healing dome with his sword. He slid off harmlessly, as she'd known he would, and then he turned to her angrily.

"You know, healing someone in the middle of a fight is considered cheating," he said darkly.

"You wouldn't say that if I were healing you instead," Orihime replied calmly.

Iori glared at her. "Well, since I can't kill him just yet, I'll have to kill you."

"Captain, let me out!" Ichigo interrupted as their enemy prepared to attack again.

"Yes," Iori said with a smirk. "Let him out, and I won't kill you."

"You won't be killing anyone," Orihime replied firmly.

Iori shifted his sword, pointing it at her with one hand wrapped around the hilt and his other hovering over the top of the blade.

"Captain!" Ichigo tried again, recognizing the man's stance. His burns were nearly gone now, but if she stayed where she was, she'd have her own to contend with soon enough.

"You should listen to him, Captain," Iori taunted. A moment later he lowered his free hand and dragged his thumbnail along the dull edge of his sword. The friction caused a spark, and the spark landed on the center of the blade. The blade was instantly glowing, and Iori lifted the sword, turning it sideways as he added, "Erupt!"

"Captain!" Ichigo cried, pounding his free fist against the dome containing him. It shocked him slightly, but he didn't care. In a moment, it wouldn't even matter.

"Shiten Koushun," Orihime said calmly. Her sword arm didn't move, though her grip tightened marginally, but the blade flared and once again her golden shield formed in front of her.

The heat-energy blade that had fired off of Iori's zanpakutou, undoubtedly the same attack that had set Ichigo aflame, collided with the golden shield and exploded backward.

Ichigo watched in amazement as Iori's attack was thrown back at him. Iori caught fire and fell backwards for an instant, but even as he crashed, the flames seemed to suck back into his zanpakutou.

"I guess that won't stop him, either," Orihime said quietly, one corner of her lips scrunched thoughtfully. She turned to face Ichigo again and her expression shifted, becoming apologetic. "I'm sorry I worried you. There wasn't enough time to explain."

"That's…okay," Ichigo replied as he slowly returned his gaze to Orihime. "But, I'm feeling better now, you don't have to keep healing me."

An expression that could only be described as a pout settled on her face, and Ichigo had to swallow as his stomach twisted in a very unfamiliar way.

"You're not finished healing yet, Ichigo," Orihime stated.

"I know," Ichigo allowed, deciding it was pointless to argue when the proof of her claim was visible to anyone. "But I'm well enough to fight, and there are other people who aren't."

Orihime hesitated, her eyes flickering to the group of unconscious and not-quite-fully-healed men just a few feet away. He was right, of course. It was just against her nature to let someone leave her care before their healing was complete.

Iori was back on his feet, breathing heavily but still able to fight, and still gripping his sword.

Orihime looked over at him, watching him through her shield. He was becoming a real problem. It looks like he's immune to the powers of his zanpakutou, which means my Shiten Koushun won't do nearly as much damage as it should. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth for a long moment, before glancing back to Ichigo and asking, "Are you sure you can handle him?"

"Yeah," Ichigo replied easily. "I underestimated him before, but he won't get me with that trick again."

"Fucking bitch," Iori shouted angrily as he began stalking forward. "I'm going to tear you apart!"

Ichigo shifted his glare to Iori easily, his eyes darkening and his jaw setting. "Let me out, and I'll finish him."

Something in Ichigo's voice convinced Orihime that he knew what he was talking about. There was conviction in his tone, as well as his eyes, and she knew he'd be alright.

"Okay," she said. Silently she called back both her Souten Kisshun and her Shiten Koushun.

A heartbeat later, seeing what she'd done, Iori lunged forward – now wholly intent on killing her before he returned to his previous fight.

But Orihime's attention was pulled from him before he'd even moved, because as her Souten Kisshun began receding, Ichigo's spiritual pressure surged, and a word she hadn't expected to hear fell from his lips.

"Bankai!" Ichigo called as Iori's feet left the ground. He felt the familiar surge of power within him, and as soon as it had settled, he was in motion.

He blocked Iori's descending sword with his before it could reach Orihime. The smoke didn't clear until their blades clashed, and it was only then that his opponent – as well as Orihime – got a decent look at his bankai. It was not what either had been expecting.

Ichigo swung his arms forward and easily forced Iori back, sending him tumbling twice before he got his feet under him again. But Ichigo wasn't willing to wait, so he pushed from the ground and raced forward, using his bankai's enhanced speed to meet Iori as he got his feet beneath him.

Orihime watched with rapt attention once again as Ichigo fought, though she did remember to return her Souten Kisshun to the five unconscious men. She found herself studying his change in power as he moved, fighting with a ferocity one would typically expect from Squad Eleven (which, she recalled, had been his squad before his promotion).

His bankai was obviously not ordinary, and yet somehow that didn't surprise her. And while the sight, and feeling, of it had reignited her earlier sense of déjà vu, that wasn't what caught her attention.

His power, she thought, eyes widening just slightly, I don't know how I didn't notice before, but…he's easily as strong as a Captain. In fact, with that power level, he's probably stronger than several of us…he's surely stronger than I am.

And yet, for whatever reason, it wasn't this revelation that reassured her of his victory. It was watching him fight – watching him parry Iori's sword, move easily out of the way of kidou blasts, slice through the blazing zanpakutou, and just overpower him – that told her he would win. Ichigo was dominating the fight, and he was making it look easy.

So, after another moment of watching, Orihime returned her full attention to the injured men. She was sure he would win, and she knew he would keep his earlier promise – the way he was fighting now, she knew no one would disturb her. So she silently wished him good luck, and turned her back to the fight, because doing so was a demonstration of her faith in him.

Shuuhei Hisagi sighed as his sword clashed with his opponent's released zanpakutou once again. He was going to have to do it.

When he looked around, he could see several of his team had been taken out, and the two members of Squad Four were doing the best they could. Hiryu was holding his own, and a handful of his men were still doing fairly well, but they needed a little more power on their side.

Shuuhei and his opponent pushed apart for a moment, before the other man lunged forward again, swinging his serrated blade in a wide arc.

"Reap, Kazeshini," Shuuhei commanded calmly.

The serrated sword crashed into one of Kazeshini's curved blades, and the other man's eyes went wide with surprise.

By the time he'd registered the rattling of the long chain that connected the two weapons, Shuuhei had made his move.

"Iori's in trouble," one of the men Toushirou was fighting suddenly declared with a sideways glance to his partner.

The other man, who was slightly older, grunted "Then it's his own fault for a picking a fight he couldn't win."

"You've got your own problems," Toushirou reminded as he pushed back and swung his sword once more.

The two managed, barely, to dodge the surge of ice that followed, and the older one returned fire with a kidou blast.

Toushirou flash-stepped to the side and out of the path of the attack.

Rangiku appeared an instant later at his back, her sword at her side. "It looks like we're winning," she said without taking her eyes from own opponent.

"It may appear that way," Toushirou agreed, "but don't get over-confident. We haven't won until they've all been defeated."

Suddenly another man, in the same age group as the older of the two men Toushirou had been fighting, appeared on the roof of the large building off to the side. He projected his voice over the battlefield, earning the attention of both his own comrades and the Soul Reapers as he called, "Regroup! We'll make our stand together!"

The men they were fighting pulled back immediately, leaping backwards a ways as they gathered together. The man on the roof jumped to the ground when the others were near enough, and then as one the group turned and raced off, in the general direction of Orihime's team.

"What are they doing?" Rangiku wondered, resting her free hand on her hip.

Toushirou scowled. "They're planning something." He turned his gaze to the group around them before saying, "Anyone who's still able, follow us. The rest of you stay here and wait to be healed."

He waited only long enough to see their nods of affirmation before turning and sprinting forward. Rangiku followed closely, and behind her trailed the able-bodied remainder of their team. They ran as quickly as they dared, wary of more traps – though at least it seemed that the landmines had all triggered each other once they'd started exploding.

It was obvious that their enemies were planning something, and they had to be careful. They had no way of knowing what it was, so they could only hope that their remaining forces were enough to handle it.

"Renji's team is on the move, too," Rangiku said suddenly.

"Yes," Toushirou agreed, sensing the same thing that she was. The people Renji's team had been fighting were regrouping, too. And it seemed Ikkaku's and Shuuhei's teams were also on the move. "They're leading us to one spot, probably for one final battle."

"Why would they do that?" Rangiku asked, puzzled. It made no sense to her that they would lead them toward the same space – why would they want to fight so many Captain-level Soul Reapers at once?

"That's a very good question," Toushirou replied. "Pick up the pace!" he added, lifting his voice to be heard by the others.

They didn't want to be late for whatever was about to happen.

To Be Continued…

A/N: Wow, an entire chapter on a fight…to be honest, I didn't think I could do it! So you'll have to let me know how I did! Pretty please? LOL Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you'll stay tuned for the next chapter!