Thank you to my reviewers, Raven's Shadow, Luinlos, Empires, La Terrible La, Scarlotte O'Hara, bm313, Shirahime Senpai, and Lady LRC. I very much appreciate your comments for the past three chapters. And yes, poor Yumichika takes the brunt of the pain for now. For now. :-) Chapter 5 might also go up later today - or if not, definitely on Monday. If you know others who are Yumichika or Ikkaku fans, please direct them to my stories. The Peacock and its sequels are quite old now and have fallen off the first pages, so I'd be happy to have more readers discover them! Peace, TK
Chapter 4 Towards the Port
"I see you walking through the gates of home.
And then I wake up to find I'm still all alone.
My only comfort is the love we share.
And as I search through this world of sadness everywhere,
I've had my share."
Haunted
Justin Hayward
Ikkaku ducked into the mill house just as the first raindrops hit the ground. Within seconds, the air was a sheet of water as the storm broke in full overhead.
Yenset, in anticipation of the rising water level, was already barking orders.
"Disengage the wheel!"
Ikkaku and three coworkers immediately climbed up onto the round-house platform and began unlocking the spindle-latches. Within thirty seconds, they had used brute force to lift and disengage the driveshaft from the wallower.
"This is going to be a bad one," Yenset remarked, looking out the double swinging doors into the onslaught of nature. "This doesn't look like something that's going to let up in a few hours – or even a day or two. Look how low those clouds are."
"Should we start moving everything up to the loft?" one of the workers asked.
"I don't think that's going to help," Yenset mattered. "We need to move to higher ground."
The mill, being set about a quarter-mile outside the village, upstream to the east where the river came winding its way up from the south, was situated close to the foot of the southern bordering mountain, while on the north side of the stream, the ground opened up into a wide flood plain, which, at this time of year, was planted with beans in full flower.
The mill, of course by the nature of its function, was subject to flooding on a regular basis. For that reason, even before Yenset had come along, the millers of the past had dug out a cave perhaps two hundred yards up the mountainside and at least fifty feet above the level of the river's normal size. It was a precipitous climb on a zigzag track, but the cave had never been flooded and had saved a good many farmer's hard labor.
Yenset kept a pen of fourteen mules—mainly for dry spells when the river was too low to move the wheel. But they also served as pack animals any time something needed to be moved.
"Let's get moving!" he commanded, and since flooding was a fairly common occurrence, everyone knew their assigned tasks and set to accomplishing them.
It always fell to Ikkaku that his first task was to notify the workers in the grain warehouses and the packing rooms. From there, he headed to the pen to help bring out the mules.
He found himself working alongside a man named Ribi as they tried to coax one stubborn animal from the pen.
"Looks like you got here just in time," Ribi noted. "Another ten minutes, and the bridge will be underwater."
Ikkaku glanced over at the bridge. The level of the river was now less than six inches beneath the lower side of the wooden support beams. "Damn, it must be raining buckets upstream."
"And in the mountains," Ribi added. "Lots o' feeder creeks. Good thing your place isn't downhill o' one."
"Yeah," Ikkaku agreed. "Put your back into, Ribi. By the time we get this thing to move, the whole mill will be washed out."
Ribi planted his feet and doubled-down, but the ground had turned slick and it was hard for his feet to find any purchase. "Maybe we'd do better to lead it." He took a few steps towards the edge of the pen where the soft serrated leaves of a clump of Pigeon's Clover drooped under the weight of the rain. He grabbed up a fistful and offered it to the persnickety beast.
And it worked. The mule followed Ribi and his clover as he made his way slowly across the pen. "Better grab some more o' that stuff!" he instructed Ikkaku. "We may need it to get him up the mountain once he's loaded."
"I can't believe I'm collecting grass for a mule," Ikkaku grumbled, as he pulled up more of the weed. He rejoined Ribi who had now gotten the animal successfully out of the pen.
Ribi grinned. "We all have to debase ourselves sometime," he quipped. "'Least there's no one else here to see it, eh?"
Ikkaku chuckled. "Yeah."
Ikkaku liked Ribi. He always had.
Ribi was close to his own age, quiet and sensible. He wasn't the kind of person who talked simply for the sake of hearing his own voice. He was a hard worker, and he knew how to unwind at the end of the day with a drink or two over at Obrecht's Inn. He liked to hear stories, although he could never be prevailed upon to tell one. Despite knowing that Ikkaku had been a Shinigami, he treated him no differently than he did anyone else. He showed him a healthy respect, but he was like that with everyone.
"You think Yumichika is okay up on the mountain?" he asked. "It's got to be pretty wild up there right about now."
"The meadow's pretty well-protected," Ikkaku replied. "We've weathered much worse up there, so yeah, I'm sure he's fine."
They came to the mill house where they stood in line with their mule behind the others, waiting to receive their load.
And meanwhile, the river continued to rise.
"Well, this is a nasty business, I must say," Savo remarked as he followed the path through the dripping woods. However, he did not sound as perturbed as his words would seem to indicate. "A storm may be good for heading off any pursuit, but it is not helping our getaway."
"Believe me, nothing is going to head off the pursuit," Totui stated. "Once my son figures out that he's gone, he won't stop until he finds him. But I've got a plan to put him on the wrong track . . . and keep him there until the time is right."
"My goodness, you like to be cryptic," Savo bubbled. "What, please tell, is the right time? It sounds like you intend for your son to find him."
"I do," Totui grinned fiendishly. "But by the time he finds him, it will be too late. Ayasegawa will be completely ruined."
"Ah yes, well . . . so long as he fills my coffers, I don't have any interest in what becomes of him after that," Savo said with a careless flick of his wrist. "But I have to get him to market first. You said your son was a Shinigami. How am I going to outrun a Shinigami? And I have more cargo to pick up on my way to the port. Whatever trick you have, you'd better let me know now; because if I'm not convinced, then I'm afraid I'll have to leave this precious little parcel right here and forego my fortune."
Totui Madarame fought down his disdain for Savo. It irked him that he should have to do business with such a man—one who clearly did not recognize when he was dealing with someone superior to himself. But it could not be helped. Totui had waited too long – almost a hundred and forty years – for this opportunity.
Back when he had worked his last treachery between Ikkaku and Yumichika, he'd considered himself to be the victor. It was only years later, upon discovering that not only were Ikkaku and Yumichika reunited, but they had both become Shinigami, that he realized that, despite his best efforts, they had foiled his plans. Or more aptly put, Ayasegawa had foiled his plans. Who would have thought the little dandy would be stubborn enough to set off after Ikkaku? And find him? And wend his wormy little way back into his life?
No matter. For now the situation presented another opportunity for Totui to exert his influence.
"It's no trick," Totui replied. "Just proof that money can buy you just about anything." A pause. "I'm sure you've noticed that Ayasegawa has barely any spirit energy. No one will be able to detect his presence. So, the key to getting him safely to port is to make sure he's well-hidden. Now, I can guarantee you that as soon as Ikkaku figures out that he's gone, he won't hesitate to ask his friends in the Gotei 13 for help. Whether or not they'll be able and willing to give it is another question. But he will ask for it, so we need to anticipate that there may be Shinigami looking for Ayasegawa as well."
"My, my, this is sounding better and better," Savo remarked with subdued sarcasm.
"Once you reach the east-west highway, it will take you three days to reach the port," Totui went on, ignoring Savo's jab. "There's a lot of traffic on that road, and lot of heavy cargo being moved. That little gem back there will just become part of the load."
"You will have to be more plain, Totui-san. I'm a simple man. What precisely is your plan?" Savo asked.
"There will be a man waiting at the watering post at An Der Warth. He's hauling dozens of crates. He's reserving an empty one just for your use," Totui replied.
Savo made a scoffing noise. "That's your plan? To stuff the little thing into a crate and hope no one notices?"
"That's the plan," Totui replied. "No one will sense any spirit pressure from him. There are thousands of crates on the road to port every day. And if you keep him unconscious, he won't be sending up any signals. The Gotei 13 isn't going to set up a road block on the sea road just to find Ayasegawa. He's not that important."
"You told me he was the Shinigami that defeated the demons all those years ago," Savo reminded him.
"Yes, but I also told you that he's lost his strength since then," Totui said. "You yourself said he didn't put up a fight. Something happened to him, and he doesn't have his power anymore. He won't give you any trouble."
Savo was silent for a moment, then he said with a dramatic sigh. "I suppose my greed will once again get the best of me. Normally, I would never risk my career on such a skimpy plan. But if we're successful, the rewards will be too great to pass up."
"And in the meantime, I'll make sure my son is headed in the wrong direction," Totui said.
"How will you do that?"
Totui grinned. "You don't need to know. All I can tell you is that as soon as we meet up with the driver on the sea road, I'll be heading back this way. From that point, you're on your own."
"And how am I to pick up my other . . . merchandise on the way to the port? I have at least two dozen I need to get."
"That's your problem," Totui replied. "I've provided you with the one who will make you a rich man. If you want to risk him in order to get the other ones, that's your decision."
"Oh, yes, decisions, decisions!" Savo laughed. "I suppose I will have to devise a way to make it happen. Two dozen is not something I am willing to throw away. The Hamasho doesn't sail until Monday morning. There may be time to retrieve the others."
"What about this?" Rolovan asked. He was holding up a sword. "He was carrying it."
Totui looked at the weapon. "That's my son's sword."
Rolovan's eyes widened. "That would make it a zanpakuto."
"Yes, it would," Totui grinned. "I'll tell you what. You two keep it. It's my way of saying thank you. I'm sure it will bring a good price,"
"Do we want to be carrying around a zanpakuto, Master Savo?" Rolovan asked.
"That's a good question," Savo replied.
"What if—what if it somehow is able to tell Madarame where we are?" Rolovan asked.
"Totui-san? What about it?" Savo asked.
"I don't know a lot about zanpakuto," Totui admitted. "But if it bothers you, you can just toss it into the woods. Leave it here."
"I hate the idea of losing money," Savo minced. "But it's not worth the risk. Rolovan, leave it here."
The trees were too close together for him to fling the sword, so he made an underhanded toss into the ferny growth lining the path. At the moment he dropped the sword, a strong wind overhead shook the trees. A loud crack could be heard above, and a large branch came plummeting down, taking out several other branches on its way.
Totui, Savo and Rolovan sprang forward while the two men carrying Yumichika leaped backwards.
"Damn! That war' close!" the first man gasped. "We needs get outa this for'st afore we's killed."
Savo's head appeared over the top of the needled branches. "Is there any damage?"
The two men knew that Savo was not inquiring about them, but only about their captive.
"Ney, ain't no dam'ge," the second man replied. "Jus'as we bes' be makin' time, or he gon' wake up."
"On your feet then," Savo ordered. "You can walk around."
The two men got to their feet.
The first man, glanced over his shoulder. "Keppy, we goin' this way. Shorta this way."
Keppy nodded in a quick, furtive manner. When he stood up, no one noticed as he tucked the discarded sword under his hakama. "I comin', Crampus."
"How much more is there?" Ikkaku met one of his coworkers at the mouth of the cave.
"Twenty or thirty pallets still in the bagging rooms," came the reply. "I don't know about the grain warehouses. The mill house has been cleared out."
Yenset had placed Ikkaku in charge of the placement of the goods in the cave, while he had stayed down at the bottom to oversee the evacuation.
Over the past four hours, Ikkaku had watched the river rise through the line of trees below the cave. The bridge was well under water and the level of the river was just below the grinding floor of the mill house. He'd heard reports brought from the village that the river had breached its banks and was spreading through the streets. The villagers were well-versed in emergency preparations, having been through countless floods before; but even so, there was always a sense of urgency when the weather brought such excitement.
Ikkaku had been caught down in the valley numerous times before by bad weather. And he had never worried about Yumichika up on the mountain. The cottage was sturdy – how many years of abandonment had it endured without ever falling into complete disrepair? And when it was looked after and tended, it had been well able to withstand the snows of winter, the rains of spring, and the storms of summer. There was no chance of flooding at the cottage. The greatest threat was wind damage, and even that was minimal, given the tree break on the southern edge of the meadow behind the cottage.
But this time, Ikkaku felt a persistent nagging poking just below his level of attention, which, at the moment, was fully directed towards the task at hand. It wasn't that he feared for Yumichika due to the storm. It was simply the fact that on his first day back at work, such a storm should hit, likely keeping him down in the valley longer than he would have liked. He wanted to make sure that whatever Yumichika might have felt last week had not returned. Yet, he could not leave the mill yet. He had a job to do, and he would see it completed before heading back up the mountain. The fact that the bridge was out was no obstacle to him, for he could use flash step to get over the swollen river. He could be back up at the cottage within minutes, make sure Yumichika was okay, and then return to offer his help in the village. Yumichika could come with him.
Yeah. If Yumichika came back with him, he'd feel a lot better about things.
"Okay, let's get the last of those pallets up here. We've got another hour before the water makes it impossible," he ordered. "The sooner we're finished, the sooner we can all get back to our families." A quirky smile of surprise crossed his face as he considered that he was including himself in that category.
Family.
By late afternoon, they were in sight of the east-west highway, and at last, Totui Madarame could breathe a sigh of relief.
The fact was he'd not really been sure they'd get even this far before Ikkaku sent out the pursuit and tracked them down.
Totui had spent the past thirty years observing the actions of his two subjects, and he'd noted with varying degrees of disgust and satisfaction that they'd fallen into a series of routines – just like an old married couple. It was disgusting because it bespoke a relationship too good to be true; but the patterns and predictability of that relationship are what had given Totui the temerity to believe he might be able to pull off what he was now attempting.
It was like clock-work. Every weekday morning Ikkaku left for the mill at the same time. He returned home at the same time, usually after stopping off for a drink or two. There was usually a twelve-hour window during which Ayasegawa was alone at the cottage.
A man could travel a long way in twelve hours. Totui could have Ayasegawa well removed from the meadow by the time Ikkaku came home, making the search that much more difficult.
But then Ayasegawa had grown suspicious, and it occurred to Totui that the former Shinigami might be recovering some small part of his former abilities. He had lain low for the next several days, especially since Ikkaku had decided to stay at the cottage. And this turned out to be more than mere nuisance, for he had already brought Savo up to have a look at the beauty of whom he had so highly spoken. After nearly a week of waiting, Savo had been ready to give up the entire idea and head off on his merry way. But then, as fortune would have it, Ikkaku had gone down to work this morning – the very morning Savo had been planning to leave.
Totui and his party had moved in quickly. The sooner they made the snatch, the more time they would have to get away.
The storm, however, had slowed them considerably. And yet, Totui was not so sure the weather was working against his plan.
Surely, Ikkaku would be kept longer at the mill due to the weather? And wouldn't his own pursuit be impeded by the harsh conditions?
Or had he been sent home early on account of the storm and the rising waters?
No, no, that would not be the case. Yenset had never released his workers until the mill was evacuated and secure. He would do no differently this time.
If only Totui could feel as sure as his reason insisted.
The sooner he passed off Ayasegawa to the cargo hauler, hidden away among the thousands of transports going to and from the port, the better he'd feel.
"Ay, 'e's comin' to ag'in," Crampus announced.
"Take care of it, then," Rolovan said with cool disinterest. It wasn't the first time the merchandise had begun to wake up over the past ten hours. They'd stopped at least three times to employ the liquid-soaked cloth, but now that this part of the journey was almost over, it seemed that this would be the final time it was needed.
Normally, they had little use for it, but Savo was quite particular with this procurement. He knew Yumichika's past as a Shinigami, and the possibility of shunpo was a threat he would not risk. Sore luck it would be, indeed, if his prize acquirement broke free for the split second it would take for him to use the flash step and escape. He had to keep him close-bound and close-held.
"I can see our transport," Totui announced. During an interlude in the rain, he'd gone up to the top of a small moss-covered mound of rocks and was scanning the plain below as Yumichika's two bearers took care of their charge.
Savo and Rolovan joined him.
"That cargo hauler, there." Totui pointed out a long flatbed vehicle with canvas sides, hooked to the back of what looked like an ancient tractor. It was parked in a muddy lay-by, and a man could be seen walking around it, checking the wheels and tightening the tie-downs.
"My, my, that's a rather . . . rustic relic, isn't it?" Savo said, his sarcasm hidden only by his determination that nothing should come between him and his greed.
"It'll be sufficient," Totui replied.
"Then I suppose we'd better get down there as quickly as we can, before it starts to rain again," Savo stated.
Within the hour, they had come down the last part of the mountain and stood on the east-west highway less than a quarter-mile from where the hauler was parked.
Being that it was high summer, the sun, even at seven o'clock in the evening, was still far above the horizon; however the heavy storm clouds make the day dark and fall-like. The stifling heat had been tempered a bit by the rain fall, but the air was still warm and sticky.
The road was packed with vehicles, both to and from the port.
Savo could see, through the parted flaps of several transports, that the human trade was in full hum this evening. But he had known it would be so. The Hamasho was due to set sail in four days. The pre-eminent slave ship would be crowded, but Savo never had to worry: he had a guaranteed forty spaces, and this time only twenty-eight would be filled. He was normally able to fill every space – easily; but this month he had spent so much time scoping out one single procurement that he'd missed filling the other slots. It hardly mattered, though. This one beauty would bring more money that the rest of the lot combined. In fact, Savo felt confident that he might bring more money than the ship's entire human cargo, which at maximum capacity, numbered close to two hundred.
As the party approached, the transport's driver came out a few steps to meet them. There were no greetings, no exchange of pleasant and meaningless words.
"Five hundred," the driver stated bluntly, holding out his calloused hand.
Totui produced the payment from within the folds of his garment.
The driver opened the rear flaps and climbed onto the bed. He weaved his way through a maze of wooden crates, moving towards the front of the vehicle. Turning and seeing no one behind him, he raised his voice, "C'mon! Follow!"
Totui climbed up first, then Rolovan, who extended a hand and helped Savo up. They all three went up to where the driver was standing beside a small square box. It could not have been more than three feet by three feet wide and two feet high. "Heem go here."
"Well, that's rather a tight fit, don't you think?" Savo remarked.
It was clear the driver did not understand him.
Totui replied, "You'll want a tight fit. Believe me, you don't want him to be able to move until you get him to the port. If Ikkaku finds him, not only will you lose your money, but you may lose your life. And if Yumichika gets free and uses flash step, your opportunity will be over."
Savo smiled. "Ah, I love the risk that comes with this profession. It makes things so much more exciting." Turning, "Rolovan, tell them to bring him up."
Less than a minute later, Crampus and Keppy had brought Yumichika into the transport and set him down on the floor.
"Unwrap him," Savo commanded. "Then put one of those sheets in the bottom of the crate. I don't want him to get scuffed up."
"You wan' as we should tie 'im?"
"Very thoroughly," Savo answered. "Gag and blindfold, as well. When you've finished, cover him over with another sheet."
"'Ow we gon' get 'im in that?"
"You just have to curl him up a bit—" Savo began.
"Ain' gon fit."
Savo sighed in exasperation. "Rolovan, see to it."
"I will, Master."
Savo and Totui walked back to the rear of the bed and climbed down, while the driver stayed to watch the "packing."
"So, this is where we part ways," Totui announced. "I'm on way back to Venla to throw my son off the trail, but you have to be on that ship when it sails."
"I will be, with my sweet little trinket in tow," Savo assured him. "Are you absolutely certain you'll accept no payment? At least let me compensate you for what you just paid the driver."
"No," Totui deferred. "The best repayment you can give me is to make sure he ends up someplace where they won't want to let him go." He turned to leave, but paused. "And Savo, be wary. He knows he's beautiful, and he may try to use that against you. Don't fall for his tricks."
"Eh, pretty he may be, but I'm not one for boys."
"Just the same, be careful," Totui repeated. With that, he departed.
Savo watched after him for a few seconds, glad to be rid of a man he considered so beneath him. Still, Totui had done him a good turn, so he could not be too condescending. And fair was fair – it was clear that Totui had thought equally little of him.
He strolled along the side of the road, indifferent to the mud caking up the hem of his pants, and watched the steady flow of slow-moving transports passing by. The weather had bogged down their movement to a crawl, and this was pinging on his nerves. Even though his prize would be well-hidden and immobile, the idea of being out on the highway made Savo feel vulnerable. Three days would seem like a century, hauling such valuable cargo, and with the fear that at any second, he might be found out. And with the pace of the traffic at the moment, it was questionable that he would even get to the port in three days. If he missed the Hamasho, he would either have to wait for its return two months later or he would have to take another slave ship and pay for passage. He returned to the transport.
"Rolovan, how's it coming up there?"
Rolovan appeared between the flaps. "We've just finished. He's wedged in there like a splitter into a tree," he said with a satisfied grin. "I don't think he'll be able to move an inch. And we pulled another crate over top of his, so he won't be able to get out; and if we're stopped, it will make him harder to find."
"Very good, then it's time for you to go retrieve the rest of our merchandise," Savo said. "I will travel with this one. Take Crampus and Keppy and meet me berthside. If you aren't able to get there in time for sail, then make passage on the next ship that has room for all of them." He passed a leather pouch to him. "This should be more than enough."
"I'll do everything I can to get there on time," Rolovan proclaimed. "I wouldn't want to miss my master's finest hour when he presents at auction."
Savo smiled. Ah, Rolovan was a man after his own heart.
"Yenset-san."
Yenset, standing at the mouth of the cave, turned to see Ikkaku approaching from below. He'd sent him down to ensure no one was left in or around the mill and its warehouses, now that the evacuation was complete.
"Ikkaku, did you find anyone?" the miller asked.
"No, it's all clear," Ikkaku replied. He paused and spoke with an almost apologetic voice. "The mill house is half under water."
Yenset was optimistic. "At least, we got most of the grain out of the warehouses."
"The mules always do their jobs," Ikkaku said with a grin. "Have you set a watch schedule yet?"
"Yes," came the reply. "Here, take a look." He held out a clipboard with some handwritten papers on it. "I don't have you on until tomorrow afternoon. I know you must be anxious to get back up the mountain and check on Yumichika."
"Yeah," Ikkaku conceded. "The sun's going down, and I know he'd feel better if I got back before it gets dark. I'm sure he's probably going out of his mind with worry. You know how he is."
"Then I'll see you back tomorrow at four. Be safe," Yenset cautioned. "The wind is picking up again. Looks like the next round is coming."
The journey back to the cottage was at first undertaken using speed step, but as soon as Ikkaku came to the trail leading up through the forest, he had to revert back to regular progress. The number of downed branches and fallen trees made the path impossible to navigate at accelerated speed. Not to mention, the path, being well worn, had turned into its own raging miniature torrent, coursing down through the furrows dug by years of use.
By the time Ikkaku was halfway up the mountain, the wind was again howling through the valleys, driving up the heights below him and whipping the treetops above him in a frenzy of unfettered power.
He was trying to run up the path, but that was proving difficult. Still, he trudged on. Seeing the storm's fury on the mountain, he no longer felt as sanguine as he had about the situation at the cottage.
The sun had set and darkness had fallen when he arrived at the meadow.
And immediately, he knew something was wrong.
Usually, if he arrived home in the dark, he could see the pale shards of light seeping out from the slats in the shutters or from under the door.
The cottage was completely black.
He ran forward and opened the door.
"Yumichika?"
No answer.
"Yumi—damn, why is it so dark in here?!" he cursed, stumbling forward and fumbling around on the table for the candle. "Why do we keep it so dark in here?!" It was his fear talking, and he let it have expression as he groped for the matches. At last, he had the candle lit and, in the dim shadows, cast about for any sign of Yumichika.
"Yumichika?!"
The cottage was small, and it took Ikkaku only a matter of seconds to check the two rooms.
The place was empty. Not only was Yumichika gone, but so was Hoozukimaru.
"Fuck . . . oh, fuck," he whispered. He smashed the wick of the candle against his palm and tossed it aside. Then, he ran back out into the rain. He checked behind the cottage, in the wash porch, along the walls of the garden, the water trough. And all the while, he called out Yumichika's name, certain that there was no way his voice could be heard over the tempest.
He followed the path down to the stream, which had swollen to three times its original size and was plunging down the mountain in a debris-filled torrent.
In the rain and darkness, he could just barely make out a round shape, bobbing up and down in the water's edge as it was pinned between two saplings, too close for it to pass through. He splashed through the few feet of water and saw that the object was a bucket. It was then that he noticed, nearby and wedged against a jut of rock, the unmistakable curve of a wooden yoke.
These could only have come from the cottage, for no one lived above them on the mountain. And since the waters were nowhere near the cottage, that meant Yumichika must have been down by the stream.
Panic seized upon Ikkaku's heart.
Had Yumichika been caught in the flood and swept away? In the encroaching darkness, there was no way for him to even begin a search.
"Yumichika!" he screamed, splashing a few yards downstream and then finding himself forced to hold onto a tree in order not to be carried off in the water. He plowed his way back to the dripping undergrowth and stood panting, not know what to do.
Then he had an idea. He closed his eyes and let go of everything outside him.
When he opened his eyes, he was inside his inner world. "Hoozukimaru?!"
At first, there was no answer, but after Ikkaku called out several more times, he heard the dragon's voice, deep and lazy. "What are you hollering at, partner? Can't a guy get some sleep on a miserable day?" He emerged from one of the inner caves of his volcanic lair, yawning and scratching his side.
"Where the hell are you?!" Ikkaku demanded.
"Where am I? What—hey, what's going on?"
"Have you been fucking sleeping this whole time?!" Ikkaku burst out accusatively. "Where's Yumichika?! I left you here for his protection, and he's gone! And you're gone! You told me to leave you here and now this is what's happened! Yumichika is gone!"
"I can sense that now," Hoozukimaru snapped back. "Who—who's hand am I in? I can feel someone else is holding me!"
"Can't you—can't you tell where you are?!" Ikkaku asked, but he already knew the answer. Hoozukimaru could not manifest outside of Ikkaku's presence anymore, and even though he still had the ability to look out through his master's eyes, that would do him no good at the moment, for he would only see what Ikkaku was seeing.
"You know I can't," Hoozukimaru retorted, his own anger rising at his failure.
"Is Yumichika with you?"
"I don't know," the dragon replied, flustered. "I can't sense him."
Inside the steaming, sweltering dragon's lair, Ikkaku slammed his fist against a wall as hot as lava, but he felt nothing. "Damn it, Hoozukimaru! He's gone, and the whole place is flooding! It's night and it's storming, and I can't see to go look for him! Damn, damn . . . " He dropped to his knees. "I shouldn't have left him alone. I shouldn't have left him."
"Pull yourself together," Hoozukimaru ordered. "Return to the outside world, so I can use your senses. We can search together. Maybe I can see something you can't."
Ikkaku gave a single, feeble nod.
Then he returned to the rain and the wind, the thunder and the fury.
Keppy turned the sword over in his hands.
It was heavy, but not as heavy as it looked.
And it was a zanpakuto. Now, that was exciting in itself. Keppy had never touched a zanpakuto, much less held one in his hands.
Now, he would be the weapon's owner – until he found a good buyer with a deep pocket, for he had no use for such a weapon.
In Gonow, he would find a buyer. They always had plenty of money to spare in that city.
'So's won' be jus Savo what makes good purse this time 'roun',' he thought gleefully. "I'm a make sa penny, too."
He slid the sword back into his clothes just as Rolovan and Crampus came out of the cross roads station.
"The road north is clear, so we should make good time," Rolovan announced. "And I've procured us a coach. Hurry, let's go. We're on a time table."
Keppy grinned to himself. Maybe, if he made a good enough killing on the sword, he could afford to be on his own time table.
Yumichika drifted up from unconsciousness directly into bewilderment, followed in short order by panic.
He could not move. He could not see.
He was lying on his side, his knees pressed up into his chest, his arms fixed behind him. He could feel the sting of cords digging into his wrists and ankles. Every muscle was cramping, but he could do nothing relieve it. He absolutely could not move.
The air was hot and thick and made breathing something he had to think about. His head was pounding, and he felt dizzy and disoriented.
Slowly, the memory of what had happened pieced itself together within his jumbled thoughts, and he was forced to draw the only conclusion possible. He had been kidnapped. The man—Yumichika could not remember his name—had said something about 'coming to get a look' at him. So, it had not been some random happenstance. He had been the man's target.
This led to a whole slew of questions about who the kidnapper was, what his intentions were, and why it had been necessary to 'get a look' at Yumichika before making the decision to take him.
Whoever they were, they were taking no chances that he would escape. He was hemmed tight inside what seemed like a box of some kind, robbed of his sight, and unable to speak, much less call out for help. The jerking and jolting of the box told him he in motion, probably over a dirt road; and given that it felt fairly level, he imagined he was quite a distance from the cottage and the meadow. But in which direction and towards what destination, he did not know.
Did Ikkaku know he was missing? What time of day was it? Had Ikkaku even returned to the cottage yet? Had the storm thrown everything into chaos?
His mind began to race in wild anticipation of the worst possible scenarios; and in his close confinement, with a rag stuffed halfway down his throat and whatever was holding it in place cutting the corners of his mouth, it was not long before he could barely draw breath.
"Calm down! Calm down! This isn't even the worst situation you've ever been in—not by a long shot," he scolded. But his own voice dissented somewhere in the back of his mind. "But you've never been this weak before, either."
"Stop! If you don't calm down, you're going to suffocate. You know you'll get out of this. You just have to wait for your chance. And besides, Ikkaku will come after you. He won't rest until he finds you."
It took a concentrated effort, but he managed to slow his breathing. He could try retreating into meditation, but he balked at the idea. Ever since the loss of Ruri'iro Kujaku, meditation had become something he steadfastly avoided, for it only served to highlight the emptiness left by his zanpakuto's demise.
Instead, he recalled the safety and comfort of lying in Ikkaku's arms.
And he knew.
He knew Ikkaku would find him and bring him back. No matter how long it took.