"We can't slow down,

We can't hold back,

Though you know we wish we could.

Oh no, there ain't no rest for the wicked

Until we close our eyes for good."

- "Ain't No Rest For The Wicked" by Cage the Elephant

Chapter Three: Until We Close Our Eyes For Good

Careful breathing. Tensed forms. Watchful eyes. Dripping blood.

Fucking blood, I thought as it got into my line of vision again. Keeping one hand on my sword in its ready stance, I reached up to wipe at my face again, ignoring the slight sting this brought to the cut there.

Ikkaku was staring at me, looking surprisingly confused. "I don't get you," he finally offered, staring me up and down. "You seem strong," he admitted reluctantly. "But no matter what the distance between us right now, only a rookie would take a hand from his sword in a fight." There was amused disbelief coloring his tone, and below that, muffled but genuine incredulousness.

Frowning defensively, I immediately brought my hand back down to my blade, taking a mental note of it. "Fuck off, what do you know?" I shot back to cover it. "I don't suppose being unable to see is much better."

"So find a way to stop the bleeding," Ikkaku stated, as though this were extremely obvious. The cut on the side of his own face was no longer bleeding, I suddenly realized. Far from his reiatsu helping the wound, he seemed to have found a way to make his reiatsu consciously stop the bleeding completely. Probably something else they taught you in the Academy I'd never gone to.

"That's cheating," I complained loudly, broadly, glaring at him.

"It is not; it's called being intelligent! You should be in awe of my experience right now!"

"Wow, I'm so in awe of your experience right now."

"Oh, you know what, just -! Just fuck you!" Ikkaku swore, scowling, finally losing his eager, merciless formality for a moment. (Fights in the Soul Society were still weird.)

He gazed discerningly into my expression for a moment, and then snorted in distaste at how unfazed it was. "What a weirdo. Your actions have had training, but they're so novice I'd hesitate to call you a warrior. Yet your reactions are fast, your attacks are strong, and your technique itself is almost on par with mine. Hey, that's a compliment," he added honestly at my slight glare. "Who was your master?" he finally added, lifting his chin and staring at me.

I debated with myself for a moment - should I say anything? - but finally curiosity at his reaction got the better of me. "Well, he only taught me for ten days, so I don't know if I'd call him my master, but he did show me some things about fighting... His name's Urahara Kisuke," I said testingly - and watched his eyes get as big as quarters. His face was openly reactionary - stunned with something like horror or terror mixed in for a moment.

"The ex-Captain?" I heard him mutter under his breath, and something inside me was confirmed. I could see Urahara Sandal-Hat being a dangerous ex-Captain who had left some... interesting stories behind him. Finally, Ikkaku seemed to realize he'd given something out and recovered quickly, forcing his face into stony, cautious neutrality. "I see," he said. "That explains a lot."

I realized, too late, how much it explained when Ikkaku suddenly sheathed his sword, put it out sideways before him, and boomed quickly, "Grow, Houzukimaru!" I tensed and resisted the urge to take a step back, cursing myself inwardly, as he pulled his blade back out with a huge shoot of higher reiatsu, and all of a sudden it - wasn't a blade.

It was a kikuchi yari, a long wooden spear with a razor-sharp blade on its end and a simple red horsehair tassel on its pommel. He took a different stance with it, smoothly, with expert training, holding it out and long before him. Despite himself, he was grinning slightly at the sudden increase in reiatsu in the very air around us. I felt Zangetsu stir, slightly, in response from where I was holding his huge, wide length outward in the typical katana stance.

"Careful, Ichigo, here I come," Ikkaku called out mockingly, his grin widening to its previous unstable, enjoying depths. Then he pounced.

"Shut up!" I shot back on reflex, frowning tightly and tensing as the blade came toward me, wicked fast - on instinct, I ducked sideways and blocked Houzukimaru coming at my head with Zangetsu's flat side - Ikkaku flipped over and aimed at my head over and over with the other end of the spear instead - I ducked, dodged, and blocked, being pushed backward but unharmed - this wasn't so bad and I started to get into it again -

"It takes longer to aim with a spear; it's too long!" I finally called out between blows. "Did you really think I wouldn't miss that?!"

"Don't get cocky," Ikkaku warned in a low tone, and all of a sudden the end of the spear made a snapping sound next to my hear. "Split, Houzukimaru!" Ikkaku abruptly called out, grinning fiercely, and the flat end of the spear unfolded into chained subsections around my head - he pulled the chained wooden pieces forward, intending to cleave them through my neck or head and snap it - (Shit, zanpakutoh had special abilities; I should probably make note of that in the future, too) - I ducked and chained spear and blade sliced through my shoulder and down my arm in a spurt of white hot pain and blood that nearly made me lose my grip on my sword and tore at my muscles - I hissed and jumped back -

He did too, coming to rest with Houzukimaru wrapped around his neck like some weird sort of python. "When I warned you to be careful," he said, deadpan, through the ringing in my ears and the pain in my arm, quickly muffled by a rush of reiatsu that I nonetheless wasn't sure I could afford, "that would be what I was referring to. Houzukimaru isn't really a kikcuhi yari spear - it's a sansetsukon, a three piece nunchuk. I doubt you'll be able to use your sword arm anymore," he added smirkingly.

I had to agree, so I switched Zangetsu to my other sword arm and his eyes narrowed. I fell back on old instincts once more - I forced myself to say inwardly it was good I was getting an early taste of an opponent who was craftier than he was outright brutely strong, and followed his example by pulling a length of white cloth from Zangetsu's end and using it to wrap up my bad arm. Ikkaku was still going on about how he was going to show me greater respect by killing me because none other would count as an achievement to him, so I used a little Living World fight morality, and took advantage of this to finish what I needed to do to continue the fight before finally looking up and interrupting him.

"Hey," I said bluntly. "I'm ready." Then I jumped forward as fast as I could, pitching toward the head and chest like he did and aiming for the same general places he had.

... I could absorb information. In fact, I was rather good at it. (Hands on blade at all times, be crafty as well as strong, don't broadcast information about yourself, memorize this new method of attacking the head and neck with a broadside guard from above or the front, keep in mind their moral code, keep in mind that some zanpakutoh have special abilities, use any temporary healing to your advantage. So far, so manageable.)

"An - what?" Ikkaku had stopped, genuinely started, and then tensed furiously. I half expected him to be able to block in time, but he chose to dodge instead and I made an impact in the building wall behind him before yanking my sword back out.

"It seemed like you had for a minute there," I told him seriously, my reiatsu levels pushing me higher as they pounded through my skull. "But you still haven't figured me out, Ikkaku. You make me unable to hold my sword and I'll do the same for you. This fight has just begun."

Ikkaku snarled and swore at me, before pausing and then starting to chuckle. I raised an eyebrow cautiously. "You talk a big game, Ichigo," he said quietly, furious and yet excited. "But I still don't see where all this confidence is coming from!"

His spear's blade had shot out toward me again, I blocked with Zangetsu and pushed Houzukimaru away, but Ikkaku shouted incoherently and pushed the other end of Houzukimaru in toward my chest while I was distracted (dangerous not to keep all sides of you blocked in a zanpakutoh fight, another mental note) and I flipped sideways and dodged just in time. We began an intricate sort of dance, me mostly blocking his superior speed and experience, still unfamiliar with the fucking headache of trying to keep track of all of Houzukimaru's pieces at once, he attacking with focused viciousness, his grin getting wider and wider. Finally, he slipped in through my guard and managed to push me back with a ping of echoing pain that ran all up and down the good arm I'd just managed to hoist up in time. I staggered backward, gaining traction and balance against the ground once more. Houzukimaru's force, deceptive though it was, was nothing to sneeze at either.

"Is bluffing the only thing you can do, then?" Ikkaku bragged with smugness that irritated me. I was beginning to realize one of Madarame Ikkaku's flaws was that he only ever focused on how he was winning or how he was losing - nothing else about the fight. Surprising for one so crafty. "Houzukimaru's form is forever changing," which was incorrect, it was simply a vast piece of craftsmanship, "and a rookie like you couldn't possibly keep up with it."

Well, at least I wasn't being dismissed as "just" a ryoka or human anymore. "Just" a rookie was more familiar, and a nice change. I stood straight, opening my palm to reveal the red horse hair I'd accidentally torn off of Houzukimaru's end during my reflexive block of it with my arm. I smirked slightly at his almost comically stunned expression. "You're wrong. I'm already adapting to it. You want to try something else?"

I tried, on an experiment, to push my reiatsu more toward the speed I was starting to think of as Ikkaku's. It obliged with a shift that managed not to overwhelm me this time, but was still pretty damn heady, and I shot up onto the rooftop, kicking off of it to come slamming down toward Ikkaku once more. He held up Houzukimaru just in time, a slight panic showing in his dark eyes at my new speed, but I cut down at him with Zangetsu, who roared and pushed at the zanpakutoh defying us in an echo of my building frustration... but Ikkaku and Houzukimaru's reaction to our sudden, angry show of reiatsu surprised even us.

Houzukimaru shattered, snapping in half.

I felt myself shove through the weapon, straight into flesh, and by the time I'd landed a huge rip had been carved through one side of Ikkaku's chest, bone breaking underneath Zangetsu's eager force, which was my own surprised force and yet wasn't.

One of the last things I learned in my first fight in the Seireitei: When in doubt, just push your power past what you think its limits are. The laws of physics don't always apply to you.

"I told you, Ikkaku," I panted, my head spinning, toward his stunned, blank face in the silence that followed. "You make me unable to hold my sword, and I'll just do the same for you."

I stepped back, uncomfortable and cautious, as he staggered, spurting blood. "What?" he spat at my expression, defensive. "What, you think I've lost?" He threw away one piece of his soul weapon in a way that couldn't be entirely healthy, and raised the end with the blade steadily, staggering once more, but on his feet in a feat of pure will not unlike Jidanbou's determination to keep holding up his gate. "The only way you'll make me unable to lose my sword is if I've lost my hands!" he spat, his voice gurgling faintly. His eyes were glazed, and still eager for the fight.

I knew that look.

"Put it away," I said suddenly, not knowing why I was bothering worrying about him. Maybe he just reminded of guys I'd fought for and against out in the streets... a lot of whom weren't alive anymore. Could have been.

"No." He seemed to take perverse pleasure out of managing to force this out. "We're still fighting. A fight's over... when one of them's dead!" he gasped out. Cheerful. "I, Madarame Ikkaku, will never run from a fight like a coward!" He ran at me, staggeringly, low to the ground with the blade out before him... Urahara's default charge with Benihime's short-blade in our training... Ikkaku's grin was crazy, desperate, but blood was spilling everywhere and he was...

"You're too slow!" I forced out, almost angry with him for this, and I swung Zangetsu out toward Houzukimaru's dying remnants with all the combined force we had. (Which was a great deal, all things considered.) Houzukimaru shattered completely and I purposefully made a great rip up Madarame Ikkaku's arm, trying to send him the message: I'm not just decapitating you or something. And it's over.

The sound of slicing skin and the staggering, slow fall of his expression told me he'd gotten the message at last. "Damn," he muttered hazily. "You're too strong... Tough luck..."

He collapsed.

I sighed at his back, blood leaking out onto the pavement around him. "You stole my line," I muttered softly to his fallen form, uncomfortable at the crimson pooling around my feet.

Tough luck.

I couldn't just turn my back on a man and let him die.

Was I a wimp for that, in this situation? Probably. Did I care? Fuck no. I'd just beaten this son of a bitch, who, unless I was much mistaken, was right under a Vice-Captain in rank. I could do whatever the hell I wanted to.

So I saved him. It was probably a really dumbass thing to do. I could feel Zangetsu getting exasperated with me through our link.

I did it anyway. I wasn't going to be That Man.

It turned out, looking through the remnants of his zanpakutoh that littered the ground around us - zanpakutoh heal as their wielders do, I could hear Urahara teaching in my mind - that he hadn't used his reiatsu to heal his face-wound after all. Somehow, he'd snuck some ordinary ointment out of a hidden compartment in the hilt of his weapon when I wasn't looking. Forcing my Dad's childhood scoldings that I was useless at healing to the back of my mind, I tried to put Madarame Ikkaku over onto his back as carefully as possible and began applying the ointment as gently and surely as I could, copying what I had seen at home thousands of times before. I didn't know what the hell this ointment was, but clearly it was made from some sort of fucking useful herb they didn't have in the Living World, or someone would have made a million dollars off of the stuff by now. It stopped the bleeding and... you know... kept everything inside... with impressive and formidable consistency. Dad and Yuzu would have been having a field day with this. (I forced that thought away with a slight pang that surprised even me.)

As I sat back and eyed my work, I suddenly reached my senses out and discovered that nearby Shinigami seemed to be keeping away from this area where they could feel the strong fighting, possibly not wanting to interfere. The only Shinigami I could feel around was Yumichika, who had finally cornered Ganjyuu - the two were still alone - and started fighting him. Ganjyuu didn't seem seriously injured yet, so maybe he wasn't a completely useless layabout. I decided to reserve judgment.

I also decided to wait around and make sure Ikkaku woke up, even though I probably couldn't afford to. And not even I was quite sure why I did that.

I sat back on a nearby crate outside a building, Zangetsu's tall, life-sized knife form beside me. The crate didn't explode when I sat on it, which made it "okay to sit on" in my book. To Ikkaku's credit, he had remarkable endurance, and I could feel his extremely low reiatsu levels stabilize themselves in the space of a few minutes, which meant he'd probably survive. Finally, he groaned and his eyes fluttered open, squinting against the sun and the pain. "I'm... still alive...?" I heard him mutter to himself vaguely, in a surprise that was also familiar to me.

"You're finally awake," I spoke up, straightening and tensing slightly, my face careful and serious as I eyed him sideways.

Blinking, he looked over at me, and his eyes widened. "Hey," I said, nodding over at him, slightly amused despite myself at his dumbfounded expression.

"I... Ichigo, you idiot, what are you still doing here?!" he snapped out, switching to a more casual and almost worried tone before he could stop himself.

"Eh, no reason," I replied honestly, shrugging. Then I noticed - his zanpakutoh had put itself back together. I was probably happier about that than I was about the guy who'd survived. Wasn't sure why that was, either. I kind of just went on instinct in unfamiliar territory. "Hey, your zanpakutoh's okay," I said, leaning over, picking it up, and showing it to him helpfully. It had gone back to its sheathed, unreleased form in its reformation.

"You - you give that back, right now!" He sounded defensive, nervous, and aggressive.

I shrugged. "Kay," I said, and tossed it away. He flinched and then studied me in silence as if I were an alien from another planet. "What?!" I snapped, getting a little irritated. "What the hell would I do with your goddamn zanpakutoh?! I was just getting some ointment out of it, geez...

"I used some on me too," I informed him - which I had, because I wasn't completely stupid - as he gaped down at his chest, seemingly struck speechless and dumbfounded. "But between the two of us, it's all gone." Borrow stuff and use it responsibly, I remembered one of Mom's lessons in dry, surreal amusement.

Ikkaku just stared at his own chest for a moment... and then all of a sudden he started swearing loudly. "Damnit! Damnit! Shit! Fuck!"

"What? It was used for its intended purpose," I dared to joke.

"It's not that! I'm not dead! Fuck! Damnit!" Ikkaku bellowed, his wounds stretching out of sheer recklessness and anger. "How shameful, getting saved by the enemy. If I could move, I'd kill you right now," he grumbled in embarrassment, looking away.

Prickly, wasn't he? "How ungrateful," I sighed, unconcerned with his annoyance. "And I took all this trouble saving your life. What a waste. Anyway, I don't really care what you think of the fact that I saved you," I told him bluntly, getting to my feet. "But I do have a question for you." Might as well try to get something useful out of him, while I was here and he was immobile.

"I thought you would. Damn, my luck is awful today," Ikkaku muttered to himself. He looked up at me sarcastically. "What do you want to know? My zodiac sign?"

"I want to know where Kuchiki Rukia is," I told him with deadly seriousness, refusing to be drawn in on this matter.

"Kuckiki. That girl on death row?" Ikkaku looked puzzled and uncaring. "Why?"

My jaw tightened. "Because I'm here to save her," I said fiercely. "That's why."

"Rescue her?!" Ikkaku yelped disbelievingly, his face slackening in shock as he stared up at me like I was crazy. "How the hell many of you are there?! Seven, eight?!"

"Five people," I corrected him. "And a cat."

"... You're really going to fight all of Soul Society... with five people... and a cat."

A bit slow on the uptake, wasn't he? "Yeah," I said seriously. "I am."

Ikkaku stared at me for a moment... and then he started laughing. Hysterically. He laughed so hard he had to gasp and put his hand to his ribs. "You... you're retarded," he finally said desperately. "You have to be."

"Tch. Says the guy who just laughed so hard he hurt himself when he already can't move," I pointed out, with flawless logic. I raised a questioning eyebrow. "So?"

"Fine," Ikkaku panted out. "You'd never manage to get there anyway. And you did beat me... Okay, look. Go straight south from here and you'll eventually come to the main offices and grounds of the various thirteen divisions."

"Wait, you're really going to tell me, just like that?" I blurted out in surprise before I could stop myself.

"Shut up or I won't," Ikkaku sighed, rolling his eyes slightly. "Listen to me. Just west of those offices is a tall white tower. That's where the capitol offenses are kept before execution at the scaffold on the grounds nearby."

It was so... easy. "Really?" I asked dubiously, eyeing him.

"Look, I don't care what you want to do with that girl!" Ikkaku puffed out in frustration. "Just get out of here before someone finds you already!"

Interesting priorities. But I was grateful, nonetheless. "I'll repay you, Ikkaku," I told him as I stood up and turned away with Zangetsu. "Thanks."

"Don't repay me, damnit!" Ikkaku swore after me, prickly to the end. Then, "No, wait!"

I paused, turning back to him cautiously. "Who's the strongest in your group? Is it you?" Ikkaku suddenly asked intensely, which would seem a lot more suspicious if his demeanor wasn't so... genuinely, repressedly worried.

"More or less," I answered vaguely, trying not to reveal too much and frowning at him in confusion.

Ikkaku eyed me for a moment, as if wrestling with himself. "Watch out for my captain," he finally warned me. "He has no interest in the weak, and he loves a fight. If what you say is true, you'll probably be the one he seeks out. Trust me," Ikkaku said gravely, "when I say you don't want that."

"Is he that strong?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

Ikkaku laughed humorlessly. "If you survive meeting him," he said pessimistically, like he doubted it, "you'll know exactly who I'm talking about."

"... What's his name?" I frowned, deciding to try to actually commit this one to memory.

"The guy you definitely don't want to meet: Eleventh Division Captain, Zaraki Kenpachi."

Five minutes later, I was running down paved side alleys, trying to muffle my reiatsu as best I could, trying to sense out Ganjyuu and Ikkaku's cold, pretty-faced partner, Yumichika. They were somewhere around the area, but getting to them in this maze of vague-looking, neat white official buildings was something of a trick. He was so close, though -! "Ganjyuu!" I finally dared to yell out in frustration.

And of course, I realized too late that there were a bunch of other tiny reiatsu signatures nearby as well. Instead of Ganjyuu coming for me, they all poured over the top of a nearby building into the alley I was at and started chasing me, yelling battle cries. Swearing in slight irritation, I led them through tiny back alleys, trying to keep around the area and yelling for Ganjyuu. He and Yumichika were around here somewhere, fighting off and on. Ganjyuu felt like he was still trying to run away from the fight whenever possible, and the temper in Yumichika's reiatsu was beginning to fight. "Ganjyuu, you idiot, conserve energy!" I finally yelled out to wherever the fuck they were.

I was rewarded by a pause from the two nearby reiatsu signatures... and then the vague sounds of explosions and the feeling of fighting. Well, that was something.

I was also rewarded by the cries and speed from the group of low-level Shinigami chasing me speeding up slightly. Unless I was much mistaken, I could feel that a couple more had joined the chase. I puffed out a frustrated breath, ran them into a wide alley with a dead end, jumped above them, waited for them to run in like retards, and then jumped in and knocked them all unconscious with Zangetsu's giant-ass metal blade.

Somewhere beyond me, I saw a huge explosion of something like a firework and then "Yumichika's" reiatsu signature beeped out of existence. I sighed. "Took him long enough," I grumbled, and started jumping over fences and low rooftops toward that firework. (Me and probably every other Shinigami in the goddamn Seireitei.) Out in the city beyond, stretching my senses out briefly, I could feel Ishida fighting a mid-level Shinigami on a high rooftop a far distance away, Inoue injured - not badly, I realized in relief - behind him. Ishida felt ice-cold as always when he was pushed into a serious fight, and the Shinigami felt brutely strong. Even as I reached out, though, the Shinigami blipped out of existence. Ishida and Inoue moved on quickly. Only Chad and Yoruichi were still hiding and lurking, sensible only because they were familiar to me, and they were having to hide right near hordes of searching Shinigami, at that.

Well, I guess we'd never agreed to be subtle.

By the time I'd gotten to Ganjyuu, in spite of my efforts to be careful, another horde of what I'd started to think of collectively as Target Practice Shinigami had started chasing me. I ran down into an alley, having led them calmly on a speedy chase in search of Ganjyuu, and there was Ganjyuu getting chased by another horde. "Hey!" I called out, waving to him, trying to make a motion with my hand that said, 'let's fight back to back and just start wiping them out.'

Any of the other members of my nakama group would have gotten it. Ganjyuu was too busy freaking out. I suppressed another sigh, something I seemed to be doing a lot today. Great.

Trusting him to get the message - his fight instincts couldn't completely suck; he'd managed to take out Yumichika and he'd been taught by Kuukaku - I just jumped over him, left him to take care of my horde, and used hand to hand combat to knock a few people out in one move before I realized these people really were useless and saw a more efficient way to handle things. "Hey, Ganjyuu!" I shouted to him behind me, where he was frantically punching the shit out of anyone within arm's reach. "DUCK!"

"What the - FUCK!" He swore, ducking down in fear, as I "unsheathed" Zangetsu and swiped his giant-ass blade in a straight circle over my head. I took out about ten of them in one go. The ones left were at least smart enough to back away and eye us, muttering to each other, leaving Ganjyuu and I standing in the middle of the circle with a wide berth around us. (Zangetsu felt smug.)

"You idiot! You nearly killed me!" Ganjyuu hissed to me.

I snorted, too busy beginning to enjoy this to listen to his whining. "I told you to duck," I muttered, smirking.

"You didn't give me any time!" I scoffed.

"Anyway, what now?" We gazed around the circle at the staring, cautious Shinigami, who stared back.

"We took down some of them and they have a general idea of how strong we are, but they're not retreating," Ganjyuu murmured back. "But why aren't any of them attacking?"

There was a moment of tense silence... And then it was suddenly broken by a high, weirdly earnest male voice from the back of the crowd.

"Sorry, everyone! My shoelaces got untied and I stopped to tie them and my Fourth Division squadron was gone! Could anyone tell me where the two ryoka are?"

... I almost laughed. Almost.

The Shinigami in front of me bristled in embarrassment and reacted angrily. The ones in back turning around frantically, I heard muffled yelps and a mix of angry and confused yells, and Ganjyuu and I stared in that direction in bemusement, still half-tensed. It would have been a great opportunity for someone to attack us, actually, but everyone was too busy focusing on The Kid. Finally, The Kid - a short, skinny young guy with chin-length black hair who looked kind of like the Shinigami version of your local high school nerd - was pushed to the front of the crowd. In his frantic attempt to get away from the abuse, he shoved himself away, tripped, and fell right into the middle of the circle in front of us.

There were a few sharp intakes of breath, everyone backed away from us hurriedly once more, and there was a sudden, tense silence.

"... Hey, Ichigo," Ganjyuu whispered, staring at The Kid hesitantly with his eyes alit, like this was almost too good to be true, "you want to try finding another way out of here?"

I considered this - and nodded. "That's kind of what I was thinking," I whispered back thoughtfully.

Our possible victim stared up at us hesitantly, seeming frozen with fear on the ground.

He'd just realized he'd found the two ryoka.

With reflexive speed, and some amount of experience with grabbing onto people before they could block me, I snatched out my hand, grabbed Nerdy Kid by the collar, and hauled him off his feet, pulling his back into my chest. Ganjyuu had relieved him of his sword in about half a second, and as I felt the kid slacken in shock, I whipped Zangetsu around and stopped the blade (he flinched) right at his neck, symbolic of a beheading.

I didn't know whether I would actually do it, but I was really goddamn good at bluffing.

"Get out of the fucking way," I snarled, darkening my face, my eyes widening crazily.

"Or the kid dies!" Ganjyuu crowed, the perfect arrogant-sounding accomplice.

I could feel The Kid freeze up and then start trembling slightly in fear. Was I that good, was he a new recruit, or was he just kind of a wimp? Hell if I knew.

But even I wasn't prepared for what happened next. The Shinigami around us just stood there, staring at the boy in our grasp. Not in shock, or fear, or even assessing caution... but in blank confusion. Uncaring. Like we were stupid. That kind of staring. I tried not to let it show how much this confused me, and I dared not glance sideways at Ganjyuu to see if he was getting the same sort of vibe.

There was a moment of tense silence. Finally, one of them dared to speak. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked in complete bewilderment.

I stared at him like he was the idiot. Which he was. "Taking one of your comrades hostage," I finally said in a very slow, purposeful voice, raising my eyebrows fervently and nodding slightly.

"What do we look like, his friends?" another one dared to speak up, and there was an outbreak of indignant muttering. They were actually growing indignant. What did they mean "what do we look like, his friends"? What, were they separated by hair color or something? They were all Shinigami; they were comrades by default.

"What's he talking about?" I hissed in Nerdy Kid's ear, staring around me.

The boy licked his lips and took a shaky breath before he spoke. "I... I'm from the fourth division and they're from the eleventh," he said in a small voice, before hunching his shoulders up and going still and silent in the instinctive "prey" position.

I blinked at him, and then glared slightly. Because Christ, that just explained everything, didn't it?

"We are the eleventh division!" one finally boomed, and the others straightened instinctively, as if rallying behind the words. I looked up to the tall, fierce-looking bearded man. "The fourth division, on the other hand," he sneered at the boy, who shied away and looked down, swallowing, "is pathetically weak. All they can do is heal!" Which was actually incredibly important when you made a career out of fighting weaponized, soul-sucking monsters, but whatever. Okay... "Therefore, the division we hate the most is the fourth division! Kill him if you want!" the guy cheered, raising a fist into the air, and all the people around us started cheering.

The Nerdy Kid gasped, let out an incoherent cry, and then started shaking like crazy in my grasp, shaking his head frantically, his mouth opening and closing silently. Ganjyuu's eyes widened; he shouted into the midst of the cheering, "You're all horrible!" his reaction fervent and disgusted and stunned.

"No kidding," I said flatly, my face twisting slightly, but my voice calm. I knew people like this - people who didn't care as long as you were strong, who bragged about how strong they were and had no use for your very life if you weren't useful to them in a fight. I supposed I should have expected to find Soul Society rampant with them. I grasped that this kid was like Jidanbou, a Different One kept out of the way and barely tolerated. The fact that they recognized him specifically seemed to imply he was a bit of a scapegoat even amongst his division. We had grabbed the wrong person as a hostage. Still, in an official military environment... offering up your own comrade to the enemy just because they weren't talented enough for you was downright cruel, and the lack of loyalty that seemed to exist among the Shinigami was fucking weird. Did it really all depend on that - how much your attitude resembled or pretended to resemble theirs, and simple usefulness? Closeness in personal connection? Was it just that they really hadn't been seriously challenged by someone with more morals than them before?

I thought of Rukia and her self-consciousness over her abilities, and my heart clenched. We have to get her out of here.

"Come on, let's just kill them! Let's go!" someone yelled before me, pumped up, and they all cheered and charged, red-faced and shouting, swords raised.

"Shit! Well, that didn't work," I called to Ganjyuu, dropping the kid beside me and poising Zangetus to fight...

Then, all of a sudden, the wall beside our enemies exploded.

As we put our arms up to cover our faces and they were all buried by a mountain of spiritual rubble, Ganjyuu shouted, "What was that?!"

I squinted and saw that nothing was moving within the smoke. "I don't know!" I shouted hurriedly. "Just run like hell while we've got the chance!" Sacrificing dignity in the face of intelligence seemed like a good option at this point.

It wasn't until we'd jumped three blocks away that I registered, ridiculously late, the reiatsu of who was now fighting them - and winning by a landslide. Chad. He'd distracted them so I could move on.

Despite myself, I smirked. We were all helping each other out and doing alright here after all.

It wasn't until we found an abandoned wooden storage house of sorts a good distance away, and stopped to catch our breath, that we realized Ganjyuu was still holding onto Nerdy Kid. Ganjyuu blinked down at him in surprise, not having realized this in our mad dash to get away, and I was exasperated. Going still and silent seemed to be what Nerdy Kid was good at. With our luck, he'd turn out to be a spy.

Hey, he wasn't good at combat, was very quiet, and was basically the most assuming-looking person ever. It was what I'd have made him. Then again, with their usual fighting fare, did Soul Society even need spies? More to the point, were they too dismissive to be that smart?

Nerdy Kid stood there timidly before us, clutching his zanpakutoh to him in a distinctly uncombative gesture, and stared from underneath his curtain of black hair until I finally stopped bickering with Ganjyuu about paying attention to who he was holding onto whilst running long enough to turn in frustration and ask him what the hell his name was. He flinched slightly, and then bowed quickly, very deferential, his face cautious before these two fight-talented enemies. He didn't leave his neck exposed to us, though, so he wasn't completely stupid.

"My name is Hanatarou Yamada," he spoke quietly. He had a naturally soft, polite voice.

"That's a really complicated, confusing name," I commented with raised eyebrows, and Ganjyuu gave a flat grunt of agreement, still looking surly and embarrassed from off to the side. Between Nerdy Kid's appearance, demeanor, and name, I could see why he might get picked on a lot.

"Really? Everyone always says my name is easy to remember," Hanatarou stammered out, blinking up at us hesitantly and taking a couple of careful steps back.

That probably wasn't because it was an easy name, but I didn't say that out loud. Maybe it was the naturally naive look about... Hanatarou, I guessed? Calling your hostage by first name would be kind of weird... But I didn't feel like being too cruel to him. "That's not an easy name at all," I informed him decisively. "Tarou or Hanako are both perfectly normal names. Fusing them together into Hanatarou is - well, it's kind of weird." No one could accuse me of being tactful, however.

"By the way, aren't you the enemy?" Ganjyuu finally spoke up in confusion from off to the side. "Why are you being so... polite?"

"Uh. I dunno," Hanatarou said slowly, fidgeting, and I resisted a sigh. Because he was scared and he didn't know what else to do. Goddamn, we'd managed to kidnap the Shinigami version of a kid during an invasion mission.

"Why did you take him with us?" I snapped at Ganjyuu again.

"I told you, I wasn't thinking! Besides, they'd just have killed him!" Ganjyuu defended himself.

Hanatarou retreated into the shadows again, his reiatsu low and intimidated and harmless, staring and staring.

What seemed an age later, we'd finally given up on our pointless argument and had taken out a rough map Ganjyuu drew of what we'd managed to catch of the Seireitei during our time suspended above it. It was his idea to map out a route to the white tower I told him I'd learned about, where we needed to go.

"So, where do we go? Got any bright ideas?" I asked him flatly, with only slight sarcasm, staring down at the pathetic map we'd managed to cobble together. I'd thought of asking Hanatarou, sitting in the corner and attempting to seem inconspicuous, but I figured we'd probably have to torture detailed information on the Seireitei from him or defeat him in a battle to get him to help us - it seemed like an honor thing - and I really didn't want to go there unless we absolutely fucking had to. There was just something about the kid. Protective instincts. (I hated those sometimes.)

Still, our odds of 'planning a route' weren't great. I glanced sideways at Ganjyuu, who looked just as stumped as I was. "Well... I really don't want to meet any Captains," he said slowly, squinting at the map and muttering to himself, "I wish we knew where they were..." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

So that was his motivation.

"We don't even know where any of the roads are, you idiot," I sighed, too tired to put any normal amount of bite into it. It struck me that I was getting used to Ganjyuu. I wasn't even sure what to think of that one. "How are we going to get to Rukia any faster like this?"

"Rukia?" came an infinitely startled voice suddenly from the corner, almost as if Hanatarou couldn't stop himself.

Yes, yes, that prisoner and I'm that guy, I resisted the urge to snap. Instead, I took a deep breath and said in a calmer, but comparatively harsh tone, "We're strategizing; don't interrupt." I didn't look away from the paper.

"Yeah! Just leave, we don't need you," Ganjyuu told him, turning to him and sneering slightly in leftover annoyance. Before I could open my mouth to protest cautiously that this wasn't such a good idea, however, Hanatarou shook his head - he seemed used to people being irritated by him, which was actually kind of sad - and spoke.

"You meant Kuchiki Rukia, right?" I turned and stared at him silently, but something in my expression seemed to tip him off. I thought of my Dad with patients and wondered if it was a doctor thing.

"I was right," he said quietly, sitting up straighter, his wide dark eyes lighting up with some sort of opportunity. "Kuchiki-taicho's younger sister, being held for capitol punishment. So that would mean your 'white tower'... it's Senzaikyuu, isn't it?" he asked with a strange amount of calm, certain sagacity. For a moment, he didn't seem so timid anymore. Thrived on knowledge, perhaps. Hanatarou took a deep breath. "I know a shortcut to that tower," he suggested with forced bravery, eyeing us carefully.

Ganjyuu jumped at the chance, but I put a hand on his arm, forcing down the leap in my own stomach. I was careful. "Why would you help us?" I asked him bluntly, gazing at him with my head tilted slightly. For once, my voice was quiet in return.

Hanatarou flinched and ducked his head a little once more. "... Because I don't want to die," he said finally, honestly. "And... because out of all the prisoners I have to feed and tend to... before she was transferred to the Senzaikyuu after her trial, Kuchiki Rukia-san was nice to me. I really don't want to see her die," he muttered, his shoulders slumping a little. He seemed honest.

I felt a pang somewhere inside me. Rukia. You were never as elitist as you made yourself act, were you?

"Okay," I finally agreed. "We'll follow you, Hanatarou. Lead the way."

He led us to, of all places, a ground hole behind some piled boxes.

Five minutes later, we were walking along the balconied edges that ran along both sides of a filthy, stinking sewer. All awfulness aside, it didn't escape me that the Seireitei clearly had plumbing and running water. Luxuries, maybe?

"I never would have guessed that the shortcut to the high-security tower was through a sewage system," I said with fervent honesty, eyeing our surroundings.

"Yes," Hanatarou agreed from where he was picking his way up head. "This system covers the entire city. In fact, you can get to pretty much anywhere from here." Even the reiatsu from above-ground was muffled. I gathered that to the people above, our own signatures were the same.

This kid was clever. I told myself to keep an eye on him.

"Do most other Shinigami know about the secret to this sewage system, too?" Ganjyuu asked Hanatarou from behind me, his loud voice echoing curiously off the walls.

"Yes," said Hanatarou, glancing backward, "but I don't think they'll come after us." He shrugged, for once unconcerned. "Only the healers of the fourth division really know how to navigate the complexities of this sewage system."

"Oh, so it doubles as a route for carrying supplies and a shortcut for bringing in and out patients," Ganjyuu realized thoughtfully. "Makes sense." I nodded.

"Oh, no! Umm..." For the first time, Hanatarou seemed almost amused, if in a pained sort of way. "Cleaning the sewers is just one of the duties the falls to the fourth division. You know, since we're the weakest division and all..." He looked away and trailed off into silence.

"... Damn," Ganjyuu finally stated matter-of-factly. "Shinigami or not, I think I actually pity you guys."

I knew what he was talking about. I stared at Hanatarou's back, actually starting to get a little disturbed by the way he said so matter-of-factly, 'We're the weakest division.' Because really, strength was very much up to interpretation. I'd been too fight happy once; I wouldn't call myself in that period strong at all.

"No, it's actually not as bad as you'd think," Hanatarou laughed, nervously, sheepish and looking away.

"Hanatarou," I said suddenly, pausing, and Ganjyuu almost ran into me. Hanatarou looked behind himself, wide-eyed and hesitant. "Why are you really trying to help us?" Was he really as loyal to the Soul Society as I'd tried to make myself believe? After being treated like that all the time? I gazed at him discerningly.

"Actually," Hanatarou said slowly, but he didn't end on what I'd thought he would. "You're Kurosaki Ichigo, aren't you?" I was somewhat startled and confused that he recognized me by my full name. That didn't seem to be normal. Hanatarou smiled slightly, sadly. "While I was taking food to Rukia-san and cleaning her cell each day, I learned a lot about you, Kurosaki Ichigo-san. I've wondered if you were him.

"You see, before she was transferred to the Senzaikyuu, Rukia-san was in being held in the brig of the sixth division, her brother's division. Usually she'd have been kept with the thirteenth, her own, but... you know... The sixth belongs to her brother... Anyway, I was assigned to food-bringing and janitorial duties, like I said. The fourth division also does a lot of that. I was nervous at first, because she was a noble, but..." He trailed off, his face surprised even in reminiscence.

"But what?" Ganjyuu finally prompted, as I stood there on tenterhooks, unable to ask. More emotional deep inside than I'd have believed.

Hanatarou shook his head and gave another sad, gentle smile. "The first time I ever met her, I called her 'Rukia-sama.' She told me she wasn't Rukia-sama, at least not anymore - she was just Rukia. She talked to me a lot when I was there. I think she was lonely. But she was actually... really nice to talk to. So many nobles are stuffy, but she was easygoing. She was fairly reserved, but she just talked like I was a friend. She... she mostly talked about you, Kurosaki Ichigo-san. I think - I think she missed you." He stopped and eyed me tentatively as my face suddenly contracted. Not like I was about to cry, but like I had just been hit with something. There was a strange weight inside me, terrible and yet... not entirely bad.

"She said," Hanatarou finally continued slowly, "that she'd like to believe you'd lived. Even though she'd only known you for a couple of months or so, she had unbelievably high faith in you. She also said that it was her fault you had gotten into more than you had bargained for. That it was her fault you had suffered a lot of pain. And she could never make that up to you. She seemed... very sad. Then she was transferred to the Senzaikyuu for execution, and I couldn't see her anymore." Hanatarou looked down at the floor, genuinely downcast, his story done. Ganjyuu was eyeing me silently.

She didn't know. I was frozen for a moment, processing. She didn't know. Didn't know she'd saved me. Didn't understand that it had been my choice to get into this as much as hers. And she could die - thinking that... that she'd made my life worse.

She'd missed me.

"It seems," Ganjyuu finally joked quietly, "that she's another different one, like you."

I swallowed, an iron, furious, dangerously calm determination filling me. "Yes," I said quietly, clenching my fists. "She is different. That's why I have to save her."

It was all I knew, and so I charged forward down the sewer, leaving a surprised Hanatarou and Ganjyuu to hurry after me.

Author's Note: Yes, I will eventually deal with all the other stuff that's going on in Soul Society he can't see. Have faith in me.