Part VIII: All Your Heroes are Dead
When Grimmjow woke it was the dark of early morning. He opened his eyes as a pair of slender, muscled legs stepped over him and across the floor. He blinked slowly, fighting the heaviness of sleep. He looked up and saw Ichigo pressed against the door. He held the knob in his hand, trying his hardest to be silent.
Their eyes met. It wasn't Ichigo sneaking out of the room in the middle of the night. Grimmjow stared into those green eyes, wondering what sort of appearance Ulquiorra had. Those eyes could never have been human. "Where are you going?"
The Master looked frightened, using Ichigo's slight frame to lean against the door, or perhaps cold. Either way, no matter how Grimmjow looked at him, he couldn't imagine that body causing anyone harm. "I will return." Grimmjow was about to say something else when the Master continued. "Go back to sleep."
Grimmjow wasn't sure if it was a command or a suggestion but he was halfway asleep before the door closed behind Ichigo's body. The narrow room still smelled like Ichigo. Grimmjow rolled over, his hand smoothing over the space that the other shifter had occupied. The spot was still warm. And then he was asleep.
Piercing screams startled Grimmjow awake. There was so much pain and agony in the shrieking that as he rolled to his feet he was already half-transformed. He was immediately aware that Ichigo had not returned. He cursed, trying to regain composure. He kicked open the door and peered into the foggy early morning. To the east the sky was a brilliant pink, sunrise was approaching.
"Ichigo?" Grimmjow called out, pressing his back against the wall of the room to hide his transforming body.
There was so much shouting, running, confusion in the street that Grimmjow thought he might vomit. He took deep breaths, willing his face and hands to return to their human appearance. He growled, low and in the belly, like a cat. He cursed, tapping his foot against the floor impatiently. "Ichigo?!"
He had been too worried, too confused to focus. The breeze picked up, carrying the overwhelming stench of death and something sinister. The scent was unforgettable, the scent of a Master. Grimmjow pushed off from the wall and ran into the street, his appearance be damned.
The townspeople were running toward him and away from the square. They carried nothing and not a single one noticed his beast-like features. Grimmjow cracked his knuckles loudly, walking toward the square with resolve.
"Ichigo!" Grimmjow called out, searching the rushing crowd for the other shifter. His worry had disappeared, he knew, generally, where he would find him, and the emotion was replaced with curiosity. And he knew almost exactly what else he would find, he could almost taste the blood in the air.
Grimmjow walked through the square, stepping over nearly a dozen mutilated corpses. Men, women, children, everyone was equal in the eyes of death. Grimmjow's stomach grumbled and he considered stopping to feed. He lost his appetite the next moment, however, when he could finally feel Ichigo's presence. Grimmjow walked faster, even right over the corpses, to get to the other shifter. Ichigo was unwell, he needed help.
"Grimmjow…" Ichigo sobbed.
Grimmjow could have missed the blood-soaked, naked teen, huddled against a stone wall. Grimmjow paused, rolling his shoulders backward stiffly. He strolled over to where Ichigo crouched. Grimmjow leaned over, lifting Ichigo's face up. He searched his brown eyes before taking off his shirt and offering it to the other shifter. "Let's go."
"I… I killed… all those… pe-people…" Ichigo stammered, looking up with wild eyes.
Grimmjow wanted to ask questions. He also wanted to run as far away as his legs would carry him. He wanted to know how Ichigo had done it. He wanted to kill Ichigo and leave him behind. But instead he swallowed all of his fear and doubt and lifted Ichigo to his feet, "Yeah. And?"
"I killed people!" Ichigo blurted out, covering his mouth as if surprised by his own admission. Grimmjow began to dress Ichigo, pulling his shirt over the teen's head. Most of the blood on the shifter's skin was not his own, but streams of it oozed from his nose and ears. "They didn't even do anything to me!"
Grimmjow spared a quick glance toward the caravan. It had been decimated completely. Grimmjow knew without seeing that there would be no survivors. "It's our nature. We're predators, Ichigo." Ichigo shook his head and tried to pull away but Grimmjow held onto him firmly. "Let's go."
"I've done something terrible…" Ichigo cried out, the blood dripping from his nose stained his teeth.
"Yeah." Grimmjow snapped, dragging Ichigo along behind him as he began to walk. "That's our nature."
"Grimmjow!" Ichigo snarled in frustration. "Stop!"
"Why? Will getting ripped apart by humans make it better? Will dying bring any of those people back?" Grimmjow demanded, shaking Ichigo roughly. "If you die your Master will just kill more people! More and more death! It will never stop! Do you want that?"
"No… no…"
"Then we must leave this place!" Grimmjow barked, turning pleading eyes toward Ichigo. "Now."
"Okay." Ichigo agreed, nodding.
"Wait right here a moment." Grimmjow requested, releasing his hold on Ichigo. He watched the teen for a moment, making sure he didn't collapse, before turning around. He searched the carnage quickly, finding what he needed.
"What…?" Ichigo asked, wiping at the blood pouring down his face.
Grimmjow stripped one of the corpses, a young woman with flowing black hair. He removed her pants and stood, handing them to Ichigo in offering. "Get dressed."
"I c-can't…"
"Yeah, you can." Grimmjow snapped, throwing the pants at Ichigo's face impatiently. Ichigo clutched the fabric against his chest, staring blankly ahead. Grimmjow sighed heavily and kneeled, yanking the pants from Ichigo's grasp. He dressed Ichigo himself. "We've got to walk now."
"Okay." Ichigo said quietly.
"They'll be coming after us." Grimmjow stressed. "They always fucking do."
….
"How're you doin'?" Grimmjow asked. Ichigo nodded wordlessly. Grimmjow frowned. "So what happened last night?"
"What do you mean?" Ichigo asked after a long pause.
"Why'd you sneak out in the middle of the night?"
Ichigo shrugged, "My schedule's all mixed up now. I couldn't sleep."
Grimmjow accepted that answer with a nod, "Where'd ya go?"
"I don't really know."
Grimmjow made a noise, "How does that work?"
"I don't remember." Ichigo replied. "It happens sometimes."
Grimmjow nodded. They walked in silence for several meters before Grimmjow spoke again, "What's the first thing you remember?"
Ichigo groaned, loud and long. He didn't answer at first but eventually he divulged, "I remember holding her head in my hand… And there was nothing connecting her to her body."
Grimmjow let out his breath, "That psychic Romni woman?"
"Yeah." Ichigo confirmed, willing the image from his mind. "Her name was Matangi."
"That doesn't matter anymore." Grimmjow reasoned.
"It still matters." Ichigo insisted bitterly.
Grimmjow chuckled darkly, "She doesn't exist anymore. There's no sense in keeping onto those sort of things."
"I'm not sure you're the most reliable person in that regard," Ichigo muttered. "You chose not to remember your best memory."
"That's not yer business…" Grimmjow warned.
Ichigo rolled his eyes, "Maybe not, but I'm fucking curious…"
"You sound like your Master." Grimmjow accused, amused by the answer.
Ichigo's jaw set angrily, "Fuck off."
"Do I need to remind you? I don't need you. You need me." Grimmjow said flatly.
"Not anymore." Ichigo retorted.
"No?" Grimmjow arched a brow.
"No." Ichigo confirmed.
"Then I'll leave…" Grimmjow threatened, turning around and shuffling the opposite direction. "Shall I?"
"Fine by me."
Ichigo's answer infuriated Grimmjow. "Really? After all the fucking help I've given you? Everything I've done for you? You're still gonna act like a fuckin' bastard?" Ichigo's silence enraged him further. "Fucking go and die somewhere, you piece of shit!"
And then Grimmjow tackled the young shifter. He punched him roughly, grabbing fistfuls of coppery hair and slamming his head into the ground. He was vicious, bludgeoning the teen's head against the hard-packed earth.
Blood poured from Ichigo's broken nose, swirling in his mouth and staining his teeth pink. Ichigo grunted, his eyes clamped shut as Grimmjow struck him again and again. He raised his hands weakly, doing his best to block the onslaught of Grimmjow's fists.
Finally, Grimmjow rolled off of Ichigo, cursing and shouting in frustration. He kicked Ichigo in the side before stomping off, his hands shaking in rage. "I'm really gonna fucking leave you here!"
Ichigo sat up weakly, his broken teeth healing slowly against his tongue. He took in a rattling breath, his lips trembling, and nodded, "Okay."
….
"He's gone." Ichigo was silent, walking along the worn road. "He's not coming back."
"Probaby not." Ichigo admitted, stumbling a bit over a rough patch of gravel, his sandal catching a cleft of rock.
"I can't feel his presence any longer."
"We don't need him." Ichigo murmured, the warm sun beating down on his skin.
"A Master needs no one and nothing."
"Then why do you keep me?" Ichigo asked pointedly. He expected the pain that followed. He dropped to his knee, the intense pain making his vision blur. He grunted uncomfortably, his severed tongue slipping from between his lips and plopping into the dirt. There was so much blood.
"Do you thank your cup? Or your clothes?" Ulquiorra mused. "It's as ridiculous to form an attachment to a contract-holder."
Ichigo made a sour face. He waited until his tongue had regrown before continuing on his path. "You need me. You can punish me if you want, but I'm right."
…..
"This is a mistake."
"Shhhh…" Ichigo hissed, crouching in the brush. "They'll hear you."
Ichigo pushed aside a bit of foliage, watching the two girls playing. They laughed easily, wasting more water than they prepared to carry. Ichigo couldn't fight the smile that spread across his face.
"Their lives are so temporary, fleeting…"
"Shhhh…" Ichigo repeated, ignoring his Master's words. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He was so close. All he had to do was stand up and he could talk to them again. He watched his sisters play in the water happily, a weight unraveling in his chest.
"Karin! Yuzu!" Their father yelled, approaching from the other side.
He looked the same, perhaps a little more greyed at the temples, maybe even a little more weight in the middle. But he was still broad, strong, and handsome. The relief Ichigo felt at seeing his sisters again evaporated, replaced with tormenting guilt.
"Papa!" Yuzu shouted, looking toward her father and getting splashed in the face by her twin.
"You were taking a while." Their father sighed. "And now I know why. You're up to no good."
"We weren't gone that long." Karin insisted.
"You know I don't like the two of you wandering off…" their father snapped.
"Sorry, Papa."
"Sorry."
"Come on home," their father instructed. "We've got work to do. People aren't going to heal themselves…"
Ichigo's heart pounded. All three of them were right there. This was his chance, perhaps his last ever. If only he could speak to them, show them he was alright. But his body was frozen, his heart beating loudly in his ears. He couldn't move an inch. He panicked, watching their backs turn from the well. His father paused, picking up both the girls' casks of water.
Ichigo tried to call out, but his tongue was held firmly into place. He let out an involuntary growl and his father turned, searching the brush cautiously. He let his daughters pass him, his eyes still scanning the foliage. "Coming Papa?"
"Yeah."
Ichigo remained crouched and silent long after they'd gone. "Why do you not move?"
It was only a short walk to his childhood home. If he walked through the grove of olive trees, past two farms, he'd be there. He'd find the old Cyprus tree he would sit under with his father. He'd find the long-standing den where he and his mother once found three fox kits. Right at the edge of their property was a large boulder, the one that Karin had broken her arm jumping off of. The jasmine that Yuzu watered would look so inviting. If he kept going he would be at his house, with his family. Just a little farther.
"Just a moment longer."
…
"Smells… appetizing." Ulquiorra spoke aloud.
Ichigo felt his stomach grumble in hunger and he wondered if his Master experienced the same. He eyed the food as he walked past, the smell almost cruel on an empty stomach. He didn't have a single shekel. He didn't have anything to barter either.
Luckily, he had talents if nothing else. He stepped into the alley between two vendors. His form rippled from view and, invisible, he snuck back over to a row of carts. He plucked produce from cart after cart, the stolen food disappearing from sight as soon as it touched his hand.
He kept walking, tearing into a handful of figs. He chewed rudely, shoving whatever fell back into his mouth. His hands shook, whether from excitement, hunger, or the thrill of thievery, he couldn't tell. He wanted the meat and decided to finish the fruits and vegetables and head back through the market for another round.
"Here you are."
Ichigo halted abruptly, looking up at the sandy-blonde in surprise. It took a moment before recognition hit him. Ulquiorra was fast, hissing out, "Tenken!", before Ichigo could put a name to the face.
"You're…" Ichigo trailed off, his invisibility turning off in his shock.
"My name is Komamura," the broad man explained. "We met in the palace."
"I remember." Ichigo murmured, biting into an eggplant. "What're you doing here?"
"I've been looking for you." Komamura replied, his clawed hand wrapping around Ichigo's arm.
"Let go." The Master spat. "Don't touch us with those hands. You'll bring unwanted attention! You disgusting failure…"
Komamura's eyes narrowed. The more Ichigo looked at him the truer the harsh statement seemed. Komamura didn't look human. He was handsome, without a doubt, young and supple-bodied. However, fur tipped his ears; his mouth was shaped oddly, canine teeth jutting from his lips. His eyes glowed, as if lit by an internal light source.
"Ichigo," Komamura said, ignoring Ulquiorra entirely. "I want to take you back to the Council."
"No." Ichigo replied simply, finishing the eggplant in three big gulps.
"There are people I want you to see." Komamura continued.
"Who?" Ichigo asked, watching the wolf-man carefully.
"Toshiro Hitsugaya and Kenpachi Zaraki," Komamura answered. "They can help you."
"Kill him." Ulquiorra rasped. "Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him…"
"Come with me." Komamura pleaded, his large, warm hand wrapping around Ichigo's. "They can stop him."
"Kill him." Ulquiorra grew louder and louder. Ichigo's entire body burned like hellfire. He cried out, dropping to his knees in agony. "Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!"
Ichigo lost consciousness, the agony unbearable. Blood poured profusely from his nose and ears. He staggered to his feet, watching Komamura with hateful green eyes. His skin blanched everywhere, like death.
"What are you doing?" Komamura demanded.
"Surviving."
"Leave the kid alone." Komamura barked. "You're the worst."
"You leave us alone." Ulquiorra ordered. "Or I'll kill this miserable creature."
"You can't." Komamura argued. "Not until his 100 years are over…"
Ichigo's face twisted into a bizarre grin, "Don't pretend you know everything. You're not special, regardless of the strong Xibalbans you associate with."
"I could say the same for you." Komamura muttered angrily.
"Aizen is the strongest." Ulquiorra said. "And all your heroes are dead."
"Katen Kyokotsu is-" Komamura boomed.
"You dare to bring up such a pathetic name?" Ulquiorra sneered. "You're a fucking lost cause."
"I'm taking him with me." Komamura breathed out, his claws jutting further out from the tips of his fingers.
"I'm not going."
"Then get out of him!" Komamura snapped.
"I'll warn you," Ulquiorra replied. "My contract is a little different than the one Aizen uses."
Komamura blinked in confusion, "How so?"
"I can kill this fucking pig anytime I like. And I will if you don't leave us right now."
"You're not as smart as you think you are," Komamura growled. "He dies either way. So I can either let you walk off or I can drag you back to Carcer."
Ichigo's face twisted in understanding, "Damn."
"Yeah." Komamura barked. "Got ya."
"Hardly." Ulquiorra replied. "You're forgetting that you're the weakest Xibalban of them all. I could beat you with one of his arms tied behind his back…"
"That's pretty big talk." Komamura groaned. "Show me then, Murciélago."
"I'll kill you." Ulquiorra said, not in warning but purely a statement.
Blood began to stream from Ichigo's eyes. The atmosphere changed and Komamura realized too late what Ulquiorra planned to do. "Wait! There're too many people here!"
"I don't care," Ulquiorra replied.
There was a huge explosion. The ground shook and groaned, the wooden buildings cracking loudly into pieces. The air was thick with black matter. The blackness rained down on the earth like ash and meteors. It was chaos. It was inescapable death.
Buildings burned, the ground steamed. The first few moments of panicked screams had all given way to choked cries for mercy that wouldn't come. There was no clean air left. There was no light except for flame. That little spot where Ichigo stood was the only unaffected space left for miles and miles.
Ulquiorra staggered forward, Ichigo's body growing heavier and more difficult to control. He stood beside Komamura's damaged body and looked down. Komamura would heal, but it would take the weak Master some time to do so. "Stay down. Good boy."
Ulquiorra cursed Ichigo's vulnerability. He had to leave his body or the shifter would die. The Master had invested too much into the shifter to lose him now. With a sigh he left Ichigo. He caught the collapsing shifter into his arms.
It was such an odd feeling to look at Ichigo as separate from himself. He hoisted the unconscious shifter into his arms and carried him. Ichigo blinked awake for a moment. The Master was more petite than he had imagined he'd be. His skin was white as an iris in stark contrast to his ebony black hair.
Ulquiorra looked down, his gaze meeting Ichigo's. His face was expressionless and disconcerting. Ichigo closed his eyes weakly, unable to take that stare while feeling so ill. "I saved you," Ulquiorra said, his voice deep and even. "I've never met anyone so useless."
