Rating: Mature (R) for graphic violence.
In This Part: There are several unwelcome visitors. (3000 words)
x x x x x x
Nine: Standstill
Ichigo lunges in sword leading. The flailing heads of the demon part before his slashing strike. The creature is shaped like a bird, at least the part with broad wings and crooked claws on its feet. The rest of it looks like some kind of a demented Orochi knockoff: its nine crane-like heads toss and twist atop flexible necks. To his spirit-sight, the bird smoulders with bitter energy in the haze of the shadowland.
Batting at him with its wings, it dances back. Exactly as he wanted it to. Now, Renji!
Ichigo flashes to the side as Zabimaru comes flying from his left, the joined segments biting into the bird's body. The prongs hook deep and hold fast, and it throws its heads back. Its curved beaks, each the length of Ichigo's arm, open in a voiceless scream.
That really bothers him. The damn thing makes no sound.
"Ichigo!" Renji's barked order jolts him into motion.
The bird is almost thrice his height, and the cluttering bamboo makes flash-step awkward. They're already raising a ruckus. He swings Zangetsu in a high arc and sends a wave of power at the tangling heads.
The Getsuga shears through two of the necks. Blood fountains into the air as the bird threshes with its wings, swerving about madly. Ichigo hears Renji shout in surprise: Zabimaru unwinds and folds in a series of dull snaps.
"Shit—I can't hold it!"
"Try again!" Ichigo sidesteps at least three wildly thrusting beaks. Its aura crawls in bursts all over the bird, dazzlingly bright.
"You're in the way!" Renji strikes at the body beneath the flailing wings. They've encircled the thing best as they can, but its blind spots are scarce.
The remaining heads snake down towards Ichigo, and he sweeps Zangetsu into a parry. A severed neck spatters his face with blood; he recoils from the sudden burn, and a beak spears into his abdomen. Groaning as he feels a rib give way, he kicks forward as hard as he can to dislodge the bird. His boot connects just as the beak in his ribs snaps shut.
For an instant the pain washes out all else. Ichigo forces it down with sheer force of will. He's lived through worse and the wound's not too deep...
In a blur of movement, Renji cuts down right in front of him. Two heads thump to the ground, hunks of dead weight. "Dammit, let you alone for a sec—"
"How 'bout you—yell at me later?" Ichigo seizes the beak that pierced him and yanks it out. The wound bleeds swiftly, but the layers of his clothing soak up the blood for now. Renji is between him and the bird, slashing at it more to keep it at bay.
"Bet on it—the hell?"
The bird's aura flares into effulgent peaks. Renji stumbles back with a hand raised to protect his eyes. Something squirms within the glow, thick, dark streamers twining together.
"It's regrowing the heads!"
"If I can help it, no it's not!" Renji lets his sword whip out again in a downward stroke across the chaotic mass of heads and necks.
In a roiling shockwave, power bursts forth from the creature. Zabimaru bounces aside and Renji goes flying backwards, smashing into the ground. Ichigo staggers onto his knees, but a wrecked batch of bamboo breaks his fall.
You are mine—mine—mine now, mongrel one—one—one! The abrupt blare of voices is like a chorus of flawed trumpets. Ichigo's kept his grip on Zangetsu; he fires a Getsuga for cover as he struggles up onto his feet.
"So you can talk, you creep. Fine. I'm still gonna kick your ass!"
Renji's aura billows in the air, but he's down. The bird has become a bonfire of power, at least six of its heads snapping this way and that. Renji was right: the shadowland must be fuelling the creature.
"I hate it when they do that!" He scampers away from a buffet of the bird's wings.
Real pain in the ass, isn't it, partner? The speaker stretches out the words into a gravelly drawl.
The world jars. This is the second disembodied voice within the minute. He was never supposed to hear this one again. There were seals imprinted into his soul after the war so it would be suppressed for good.
What's wrong? This ain't the best you can do and you know it! The Hollow's words cut through his momentary stun. Wherever he came from, however much Ichigo hates to admit it, he has a point. Bankai has been out of the question ever since they came here. Even with all the noise they've made in this battle, a full release soars into a whole other magnitude.
But damn if he doesn't want to. Where the fuck is Renji?
Renji. The bird.
His only saving grace is that the thing is still enveloped within its blaze of power, a nexus of energy round its sole headless neck. That must slow it down. A beak hammers down towards him, and he tucks himself into a roll, coming up into a crouch.
Do not—not struggle—struggle—gle, mongrel one—one! You are weak—weak—weak! The clamour of voices erupts in his mind again.
It thinks we're weak, king!
"Get outta my head!" he screams at both the bird and the Hollow. The vicinity is dimming, as if the demon were draining life from the trees and earth themselves. Even thin red fibres of Renji's aura float in its direction. The bastard sure picked a hell of a time to take a nap!
Don't delude yourself, partner. You can't trust that guy, can you now? Don't think I haven't noticed how you—
The creature raises its heads towards the sky, as if in grotesque imitation of a dancing crane. Its beaks open—and voices pour forth in a garbled chorus that blasts through his head.
Mine—mine—mine—! You—you—will—obey—obey—me—!
Ichigo wrenches himself upright and forces the words out. Even the murmur of the Hollow echoing the call, deep in his soul, gives him no pause. Tensa Zangetsu...
He flows into bankai and the cacophony of voices is stilled. The battlefield is his, every dip and rise and snare in the forest floor plain, the rearing heads of the bird creeping along, Renji hauling himself to sit up as if it would take hours for him to do it. He steps forward with Zangetsu in a two-handed grip and slashes through the reformed heads. They spin around him like in near-zero gravity, in languishing arcs towards the forest floor.
Until, with a swoosh of power, the second to last one snakes under his blade. Unerringly it sinks its beak into his fresh injury.
He throws the black blade through an upward circle. Only the supernal edge of it lets him complete the blow. The beak, stuck in his wound, tears the stab open as the head falls. Still he leaps up, and cleaves the last head in two.
In a swaying fall, the body pitches to the ground.
Ichigo lurches out of shunpo; his bankai slips out of his slackening grasp. His head is paradoxically clear. Then arms close around him from behind, and pain lances through his midsection.
"Sorry," Renji says. "Had to catch ya. And now you gotta walk a bit, you can't lie down in all that gore."
They hobble away from the corpse. Ichigo closes his eyes and walks with his whole concentration. His stomach is a patch of hot, sticky agony.
"This'll do." Renji lowers him to the ground. "How bad is it?"
He tries to breathe. "Hurts—like a bitch."
"No kiddin'." A red glow lights above them at a few words from Renji. Then he peels away the bloody fabric, and the dismayed sound he makes tells Ichigo the news is not good. "Just don't move."
"Thanks for the obvious."
"That means, you smartass, lie still and don't say a damn word." He tries his best to do that as Renji cleans the wound, blood still seeping down his side. He has been ripped up six ways from Sunday before, but it never hurts any less. At least he isn't coughing up blood, but stomach wounds are a whole another kind of messy.
"You're gonna need a healer."
"Shit." This, too. As if it wasn't enough that his sealed Hollow popped out, or that a deranged demon probably tried to possess him. All in a day's work. Yeah, right.
"You got two broken ribs an' a pretty gouge into your innards," Renji interrupts his thoughts. "I'm not steady enough to fix this up. You could end up with with knots in your guts, and I don't really wanna think about that."
"Ha ha." Ichigo makes a face. The light Renji summoned draws twirling patterns on the insides of his eyelids. "Got your point."
"So," Renji says. "Here's what I found out. There're some people not too far away. I figure it's a smaller village. Seems the fort's still a ways off." He splays his fingers over the wound. "We find a hidin' place, an' I'm gonna get somebody to help you."
Ichigo clenches his teeth as the burn of the healing kidou seeps into him. Renji tries to go easy, sure, but this is not easing muscle aches, and his power chafes against the raw injury so Ichigo has to fight back more unwelcome noises.
"Man, you—you do suck at this." He raises a hand to wipe at his watering eyes.
"At least now you won't tear in two when I get you up." Unannounced, another, softer wave of kidou follows the first. "That oughta help, too. Can you sit?"
With Renji supporting him, he manages that, even though his hands tremble as he grabs Renji's shoulders to keep himself upright.
"Hold still," Renji murmurs. It seems to take an awfully long time to bind the wounds, around and around his torso in even loops of cloth. Lots of bandages.
He watches Renji's face swim in and out of focus, his eyes serious and darkened. Renji never looks like that. His Hollow never comes out again. He used his bankai and now he's hurt. Rukia is still... Someone has stuffed his head with cotton, and his limbs feel wobbly, but this thought is lucid.
"Hey," he says. " 'M sorry."
"What the hell for?"
"We're gonna be... delayed. Can' track like this." He breathes in. "So—"
"Fuck, I can never get that right." Renji sounds muddled. "Ichigo. Stay with me. Listen. I'm gonna take you by flash-step, so just hang on."
"Right, but—" He can do that, that's not the problem; Renji lifts him bodily and—
The world melts around them and he is jerked along. Whatever is coursing through him counters his reflex to tense up, which probably is a good thing. He slumps bonelessly against Renji when things go still again.
It occurs to him only now that dawn is breaking above the forest; they're out of the bamboo grove. The trees droop over a tall rock in a protective canopy, and the ground is overrun with dense shrubs. It is as good a hiding spot as can be found in this terrain. Renji eases him down to lean against the rock. His hand settles on the side of Ichigo's neck.
"Sorry 'bout that. Guess I'll stick to the herbs an' tinctures from now on," Renji says with a hint of wry humour. Under his hand, a throb of power passes over Ichigo's skin. Things sharpen again and so does the pain, but it's tolerable now.
"What'd you do?"
"Tried to control your pain."
"Appreciate the thought, but the Fourth would probably still toss you out on your ass." Ichigo cracks a grin. The joke is feeble, but better than letting loose the flash flood of concerns on his mind.
"Don't I know it. If it's any consolation, I used to be better. Somewhat." Renji rubs at his temple with his free hand.
"Hope I won't give you reason to hone those skills any more." Ichigo shifts and immediately regrets it. "Oww, fuck." At least looking around works. Renji has brought Zangetsu along.
Renji follows his gaze as it lingers on the sword. "I shouldn't have, but you didn't really look up to carryin' anythin'."
"It's fine," Ichigo says quickly. "I know, no handling others' soul cutters, private business, whatever. It's an emergency and all."
Renji lets out a long sigh, his breath skimming Ichigo's cheek. He seems to get stuck there, head rested against Ichigo's.
"Hey," he says at length, because what can you say, and grasps Renji's wrist to draw his hand away from his shoulder.
Renji's fingers wrap strong around his wrist in turn. "Mmh. You okay now?"
"Yeah, good as can be. You should get going."
With a shake of his head, Renji gets up. "Don't you dare pass out."
"Stop frettin'." Ichigo cranes his head to keep the eye contact. "I'll smack myself if I have to."
"You'd be dumb enough." Renji half chuckles. "Be back as fast as I can."
He reaches for Zangetsu, and Renji sets the hilt into his hand.
x x x x x x
Thankfully, their things are untouched. The mangled body of the demon bird might not even attract scavengers, but Renji fears it will draw others of its kind. It is best they move away from it as fast and as far as possible.
Ichigo has sunk into a half-doze as he returns. After nudging him awake and leaving their bags next to him, Renji heads towards the concentration of auras that marks the village to the north. He had no sleep to speak of the night before, but concern for Ichigo and a sense of haste combine to keep him alert.
The smell of hearth smoke trails down to him from upwind. The forest becomes sparser, shafts of early sunlight slashing through the leaves, lighting them to glow maroon and orange. After the taint of the shadowland, the crisp day feels good despite his hurry.
"You! Stop right there!"
To the left of the path, a woman and a boy are gathering kindling: the youth, barely even that, raises his child-high voice again. "Who are you?"
Renji holds up open hands, though Zabimaru's hilt sticks out over his shoulder. His clothes are in blood all over, and hair has crept free of his headscarf. At least his looks back up his story.
"A demon attacked us. My friend is hurt. Do you have a healer here?" He forces calm into his tone. "A herbalist?"
The woman hefts a wooden staff, her expression dark with suspicion.
"I'm not a danger. I need help. Please."
"You come from the valley."
"We went off the road," he says. "I just need medicine. I don't want to bother you."
"A demon, you said?" Beside her, the boy picks up the basket of sticks and twigs, still far from full.
"Yes, in the valley. It's dead now."
She points with the staff. "There's Old Hao, outside the village. He might sell you some remedies. Cross the stream and go right along the path."
Stream, then right. He can always orient himself by reiatsu if he really needs to; travelling with Ichigo has dulled that habit. He bows at her. "Thank you. The demon... there are maybe others. Be careful."
The woman waves him off and ushers the boy to go. Renji quickens his pace. I sure hope nothin' comes after that thing too quick. We really don't need any of its friends down our necks just now.
He clears the stream in two leaps across stones. The promised path meanders uphill through waist-high bracken. His heart hammers more with anxiety than exertion when a house comes into view, covered in climbing vines. The shutters and doors are closed, but the rows of an herb garden beside the house are weeded and orderly.
He pauses to roll up his flapping, ripped sleeve and retie his headscarf. Then he knocks. "Hello? Anybody home?"
His next three knocks go unanswered as well.
The door opens under his hand. The interior is unlit, but the door allows the sun in enough that he can scan the single room. A mixed aroma of herbs clouds the space; sheafs of dried flora are hung from the ceiling. Renji moves a couple of steps into the room, though it is too small to really hide anyone. Woven reed curtains partition a sleeping alcove or bedroom on the far side.
Not a ripple of reiatsu apart from his own disturbs the silence. He goes on one knee by the fire pit. The hot coals have been covered, so the owner hasn't planned on being away for long.
Movement swishes across the room before he can so much as twitch. Steel presses into the side of his neck. He goes instinctively, utterly still. If the other is that fast, he probably can't shunpo away with his head in tow.
"Unstrap your sword and drop it." The meaning is crystal clear, even if he doesn't know all the words. "One wrong move and I cut your head off."
Hand on the knots of the shoulder strap, he glances to the side without moving his head. Light gleams off the sword on his neck, the folding pattern rippling silvery along the one-edged blade.
"Do as I say," the speaker tells him tartly and seals his conclusion. But for the language, the tone is so familiar he has to hold back a sudden sound, an unwise spin about.
He does not turn. He undoes the knot and Zabimaru slides to the floor under his own weight. Then he spreads his hands again. The blade draws an ooze of blood.
He whispers, "Rukia. It's me."
x x x x x x
A/N: Fabulous acknowledgments to Jaina for knocking my prose in line.