Chapter 10 The Journey

"Weep no more for treasures
you've been searching for in vain,
for the truth is gently falling with the rain."

You Can Never Go Home
Justin Hayward

"It's time. You ready?"

Yumichika nodded. "Ready."

Ikkaku leaned over and helped him sit up. "Get the blanket around you. Put your arm around my shoulders." He picked him up, pushing down his alarm at the feather-weight lightness of the body in his arms, and headed for the front door. There would be no going over the rooftops tonight.

At the gate, he stopped and peered out into the street. It was empty. Everything was quiet. He drew in a deep breath and stepped out.

Fifteen minutes later, he entered the copse where Kaekae was waiting with the cart.

"Madarame-san?"

"Yeah, it's us," Ikkaku replied, setting Yumichika carefully on the ground as Kaekae rushed forward to help.

Even in the night shadows cast by the trees, Kaekae could see the damage done to Yumichika's face, and he could not help but stare.

"Ayasegawa-san," he managed at last, but he didn't know what to say.

"Kaekae," Yumichika replied, extending his good arm and clasping the old man's hand with warmth. "It's good to see you."

The boatman was distraught. "I tried ta come see ya. I tried, but they wouldna let me."

"It's alright, Kaekae," Yumichika assured him. "I understand. What you're doing for us now . . . I can never repay you."

"Ya don' have ta repay me," Kaekae replied. "I just . . . I . . . " Again, he was caught short for words. There was nothing he could say to change anything, to make things better. The only thing he could do was make sure they got away safely.

Ikkaku was inspecting the cart, and he was well pleased with what he saw. It was roughly two meters long and just over a meter wide, with two large, spoked wheels and props at the front and back for stability. The cart bed was at waist level with side ribs and a canvas cover. Underneath the bed were several storage compartments. The oversized wheels would make it easy to pull, and it was big enough that they could fit plenty of supplies.

"This is perfect, Kaekae," he said. "Where did you get it?"

"I've 'ad it fa years," Kaekae replied.

"It's perfect," Ikkaku repeated. "I have to go back and start bringing the supplies. Look after him, will you?"

Kaekae nodded.

Nearly an hour later, Ikkaku had brought the last of the supplies to add to those which Kaekae had provided. The two of them loaded up the cart as Yumichika watched in silence.

And then the moment had come.

"This is it," Ikkaku announced. "Let's get you inside." He and Kaekae got Yumichika comfortably settled into the cart, and then Ikkaku took his place between the wooden traces and started pulling.

It was even easier than he'd imagined. That might have been due, in part, to his excitement over leaving; but it was of little matter. With Kaekae walking beside him, his heart felt as free as a bird.

"How is the weather looking tonight?" he asked.

"It shou' be calm," Kaekae replied. "We won' go far from shore an'way. We gon' folla the coastline down t' the far end o' the sea. It'll take 'bout two days if the wind is good. If the water ge's rough, we can put in."

"I want to avoid all towns for now," Ikkaku announced. "I don't want to take a chance that anyone will recognize us."

"Do ya really thin' they'd come afta ya?" Kaekae asked.

"I wouldn't put anything past them," Ikkaku replied. "I don't want to take the risk."

Kaekae nodded. "We'll put in where no one'll see ya."

Thirty minutes later, they came to the docks. Kaekae had already outfitted a small sail barge, and it was toward this that they headed. They took Yumichika out of the cart before they rolled it over a boarding plank onto the boat and secured it in front of the sail.

Ikkaku carried Yumichika aboard and laid him in the cart once again then drew back the canvas cover. It was a beautiful night, and Yumichika would want to see the stars, as well as the receding shoreline.

For the first thirty minutes after setting sail, no one spoke a word, except for Kaekae's instructions to Ikkaku, which were minimal, for Kaekae could have sailed the boat single-handedly; but being that there was an extra hand on board, he made use of him.

At length, when they were safely away from the shore, Ikkaku came and sat beside the cart.

"I can already feel it," he announced.

Yumichika looked at him with a curious expression. "Feel what?"

"The change in your riatsu," Ikkaku replied.

Yumichika smiled. "I'm not surprised. I feel like . . .it's all behind me. I can start over again."

Ikkaku gave a slight nod. "I know what you mean."

After a short pause, Yumichika spoke in a humble voice. "Thank you for doing this."

"It's as much for myself as it is for you," Ikkaku replied. "I hated that place."

"I know, but thank you anyway," Yumichika repeated. Then louder, "And thank you, Kaekae."

"Ah, don' thank me," the old man said with a wave of his hand. "I don' wan' ta see ya go, but Madarame-san's right – th'is what's best for ya."

"Maybe you should try to get some sleep," Ikkaku suggested. "It's going to be a long journey."

"Where are we going?"

"I haven't decided yet," Ikkaku replied.

Yumichika narrowed his eyes. "Then how do you know it's going to be long?"

"Because I'm going to get you as far from Mito as I can," Ikkaku replied. "So, you'd better reserve your strength."

Inwardly, Yumichika's happiness grew even greater as he watched the few lights of Mito grow ever fainter on the horizon. If he knew anything about it, it seemed his strength was already starting to return at an increased rate.

"I'm glad he's taking you away from that place. I never did like it."

"I used to love it."

"I know."

Yumichika opened his eyes. The reikon was still lying beside him, but the difference was immediate. The glowing halo of color had regained some of its vibrancy.

"How did things go so wrong?" Yumichika wondered out loud.

There was a brief pause before the reikon replied. "You already know the answer to that. You loved the wrong things . . . for the wrong reasons. To you, it was all a game. And when you stopped giving them what they wanted, they revealed themselves for what they really were."

"But I never thought . . . I never thought they'd do . . . something like that to me."

"That's because you felt you could control them; your confidence was matched only by your ego. Not only that - you loved the attention. You loved feeling wanted and being told how beautiful you were. You loved the things you could get by selling the one thing you knew everyone wanted. You thought your beauty was enough to mesmerize everyone."

"But it was,"Yumichika said, sounding slightly petulant. "Wasn't it?"

"Obviously not. If you had used me properly, it would have been enough," came the reply. "But you are still deficient in that area."

"Well, if you would take the time to teach me—"

Yumichika felt a touch like a breeze across his temple. He could almost sense a smile from his companion.

"Yes, I can definitely tell you are regaining your strength, snapping at me as if I were your servant. You may be my master, but I am not your slave. And I also know you'd argue with me just for the sake of arguing when you should be sleeping peacefully instead . . . Yumichika."

That rare use of his name again. It roused his attention, but it was almost as if the reikon's words had broken his concentration. He could no longer string together a coherent thought. As his mind began to drift, he managed one final question.

"When will you tell me your name?"

"Soon, I think. But you must get stronger first," the reikon replied, adding in a lyrical tone, "Sleep now."

"'E still looks pretty rough," Kaekae remarked.

"It's much better than it was," Ikkaku replied.

"Well, e' seems ta be takin' it lot better than I'd a thought," Kaekae went on. "Ya know 'ow much 'e thinks 'bout 'is looks."

"He hasn't seen his face since the attack," Ikkaku informed him. "I didn't think he'd be able to handle it." A pause. "It looks better now, but he's still got a long way to go."

"They wanted ta make their message clear," Kaekae said.

"Clear to me, at least," Ikkaku said with a low roll in his voice. "They wanted to make sure everyone knew that this was my fault." He grit his teeth. "So, they burned it into his face . . . cowards! If it was me they were angry at, why didn't they come after me? No, instead they went after Yumichika, knowing he wouldn't be able to defend against them." He paused and clenched his fists against a building rage. "You know, I am glad to be leaving that place, but I—I still want revenge. I want to make them pay for what they did. It came down to choosing between taking care of Yumichika and going after them—"

"An' you chose right," Kaekae interjected.

"But now, there'll never be a chance to get even," Ikkaku lamented. "While we were still in Mito, there was always the possibility that—"

"That Ayasegawa-san could die," Kaekae interrupted again, but this time he went on emphatically. "Why's it sa hard for ya t'admit ya chose Ayasegawa-san o'er revenge?"

Ikkaku was brought up short. He had not expected the question, and he had no idea how to answer it.

Kaekae went on. "Ya might hate ever'thin' else in this world, but there's a'leas' one thin' that means somethin' to ya. Na, don' look at me like ya don' un'erstand. I saw that 'bout ya the first time we met. Ya was filled wit' nothin' but hate. Ya wanted ta hate ever'thin', and ya wanted ever'thin' ta hate ya. But ya couldna hate Ayasegawa-san. And ya couldna make him hate ya."

Ikkaku shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well, Yumichika's different from everyone else."

"Tha's true," Kaekae agreed. "But 'e's not the kinda man I'd expect someone like ya to go 'bout wit'."

Ikkaku's answer was simple and direct. "He wants me around."

Kaekae nodded his understanding. "Iz impor'ant, that – ta be wanted."

This was hitting too close to the mark. Ikkaku stood up. "Yeah, it is. I think I'm going to turn in. Wake me up when it's my watch." With that, he returned to the front of the boat and made himself comfortable close to the cart.

Kaekae was not surprised that Madarame had fled from the conversation.

Strong men loathed weakness – especially their own.

Late in the afternoon of the second day, they came to shore.

Lowering the sail, Kaekae and Ikkaku rowed the boat through a shallow reed bed, beaching on the shore, which was a sandy, muddy combination, but firm enough to allow for disembarkation.

"How are we going to get the cart out?" Ikkaku asked as he removed Yumichika from the cart and set him down on the gunwale.

Kaekae shook his head. "Ya got no sense, 'ave ya? Take the plank and put it o'ver the back here. No, a lil' further. Okay, now we push the cart up the plank, and when it's in the middle, push the plank down onto the shore, and it'll roll right off."

It was so stunningly simple that Ikkaku felt like a fool for even asking.

Five minutes later, the cart was safely on the shore. Ikkaku saw Yumichika settled in once more, and then he turned to Kaekae.

"I don't know how to thank you," he said, feeling completely inadequate to the task. He had not often expressed gratitude, except to Yumichika.

"Just take care a 'im. Don' let somethin' like this 'appen again," Kaekae replied then bowed slightly. Rising, he added as an afterthought, "An' don' be so angry. Nothin' in the past is worth losin' what ya got now." He walked past Ikkaku and approached Yumichika.

"Ayasegawa-san . . . I'm a miss ya," he said softly. "Ya the only one in that whole village I could tol'ate."

Yumichika swallowed, but when he spoke, his voice was steady. "I wish you could come with us, Kaekae, but I know you'd never leave the sea."

"Hm, aya, it's in ma blood," Kaekae replied.

"I made you something," Yumichika said, producing a large, heavy bag of sturdy material and leather handles. "It's a sea bag."

The old man accepted it without words, but the sheen in his eyes was expression enough.

"When did you make that?" Ikkaku burst out, stepping forward to look at the bag and marvel at the workmanship.

"Ikkaku," Yumichika implored gently, and Ikkaku could see that this was a very difficult parting for his friend.

"Sorry," he apologized, stepping back.

Kaekae put a wrinkled hand on Yumichika's arm. "Ya bes' be goin'."

Yumichika nodded. "Thank you for . . . for not . . . for being . . . "

Kaekae understood the words Yumichika could not speak. He stepped back. "G'on, now. Journey safe," he said as Ikkaku took his place between the traces.

He did not stay to watch them go. If there was one thing his life on the sea had taught him, it was that lingering over a good-bye did not make it any easier. Good-byes were the past, and there was no returning to the past.

Ahead was the only direction.

He pushed back towards the deeper water.

Ikkaku looked back over his shoulder. Yumichika was asleep, much to his relief, for he'd feared that the motion over the uneven, pot-holed road would aggravate Yumichika's injuries and only add to his discomfort. But from the peaceful expression on his face, it was clear that Yumichika was faring well. Four hours had passed since they had come ashore, and the going had been painfully slow owing to the weather-damaged condition of the north-leading road wending off towards the distant mountains Ikkaku had visited only a few months ago.

He trudged on, considering where they might go to. While it was true that he'd not had the chance to give that question much thought, he did have some ideas in mind. He'd been so busy finding a means of transportation and making sure he loaded everything that was needed, plotting the best time and route to leave the village, and making sure Yumichika was comfortable, that he'd given very little thought to the way beyond the sea. Getting Yumichika out of Mito had been his foremost concern.

And that, he had done successfully. Now, all that remained was, where to?

Thrilled as he was to be leaving Mito, he had to make sure he did not trade one hell for another. For Yumichikka's sake, he had to act and choose wisely; for while Yumichika seemed irrepressible, Ikkaku knew it was only possible to bend so far without breaking.

So, he would have to temporarily suppress his impetuous, bellicose nature and exercise caution and restraint. To begin with, he knew he certainly couldn't go to most of the towns he'd visited before. Quite simply, he was not welcome. His lust for conflict had made him a pariah in many parts – a scourge not soon forgotten. He would have to find someplace where he was not well-known, someplace quiet and safe. Someplace with little inducement for his own vagaries while providing peace and the sense of security that Yumichika needed.

And it had to be as far from Mito as possible.

He had only one place in mind. It would be a difficult journey in the melt and mud of spring, but well worth the effort.

The smell of wood smoke woke Yumichika.

It was dark and damp, but he felt rested and warm and comfortable.

"Ikkaku?"

"I'm here," came the reply. "Just getting this fire going . . . "

Yumichika looked around. They were in a wooded area, at the stone ruins of some small dwelling, overgrown and offering scant protection.

"Where are we?"

"Oh, just about half a kilometer off the main road. It's not safe to camp near the roads, so I took us back into the woods."

"Did you know this was here?" Yumichika asked.

"Yeah. I've been this way a few times," Ikkaku answered. "It'll be dawn soon. I thought we could rest for the morning and start again in the afternoon."

Yumichika nodded. "You must be tired."

"Hmph!" Ikkaku snorted. "You don't weigh anything."

"But the cart does, and it's full of stuff, and you haven't had any sleep. I know you like your sleep—"

"You're insulting me again," Ikkaku shot back in his usual blustery manner. "A little work and sleep deprivation, and you think I'm a geisha?"

"I didn't say that," Yumichika simpered. "You really do need to get some sleep. You're so grouchy."

Ikkaku grumbled something unintelligible, then, "At least, you're in a good mood."

"I slept well."

Ikkaku eyed him with scrutiny. "There's something else."

"What else could there be?" Yumichika asked, then added, "I'm happy. I'm glad it's all over. A new life has started."

Ikkaku couldn't help but feel a degree of admiration for Yumichika's resilience and conviction – even if he did find the whole thing a bit melodramatic and smacking of unwarranted optimism.

"A new life, huh?" he echoed. "So, does that mean I can say good-bye to the mild, meek Yumichika? Or the self-loving egomaniac? Or the bossy, arrogant narcissist?"

"What does that leave?" Yumichika grinned.

Ikkaku considered. "Nothing interesting." He came over to the cart. "Come on, you should sit by the fire, where it's warm." He helped him slide out and supported him over to a spot on the ground where he had already laid out pillows and blankets enough to provide a soft place for Yumichika to recline. "So, does this new life include learning how to fight?" he went on.

"You never give up, do you?" Yumichika said without malice, as Ikkaku eased him to the ground. "I think I should concentrate on just being able to walk again for now."

"Okay, okay," Ikkaku conceded. "But don't think I'm giving up on this."

"I never would think that."

Ikkaku got him settled. "Are you warm enough?"

"Yes, this is perfect."

"Hungry?"

"Starved."

This, more than anything, pleased Ikkaku. A return of appetite was a very good sign.

He went back to the cart, rummaged through their food supplies and came back with some rice balls, dried fish, and sugar dates.

"Is this okay, or do you want something hot to eat?" he asked.

"This is fine."

"I can heat some water for tea," Ikkaku offered.

"That would be nice." Yumichika marveled at Ikkaku's attentiveness. In a strange way, it seemed that Yumichika's misfortune might have done Ikkaku some good, as it had created the necessity for Ikkaku to serve instead of be served, to tend instead of being tended.

As Ikkaku set about making the tea, Yumichika asked carefully, "Ikkaku . . . what message did they leave?"

Ikkaku's throat tightened. He glanced up at Yumichika for only the briefest moment, then resumed what he was doing. "Huh?" It was a weak attempt at deflection, but he needed time to think of how he would respond, for he knew Yumichika would not give up.

"I heard you and Kaekae talking," Yumichika explained. "My face . . . they wrote something, didn't they? What was it?"

"It's not important," Ikkaku replied without looking at him, adding, "And why did you pretend to be asleep? That was pretty low—"

"Ikkaku," Yumichika cut him off. "I want to see what I look like. I want to see what they wrote."

"I didn't bring any mirrors," Ikkaku replied. "And even if I had, I wouldn't let you see yourself yet."

"Is that to protect me or yourself?" Yumichika challenged.

"Both of us," Ikkaku replied.

"I can handle seeing my reflection," Yumichika insisted.

"Maybe you could," Ikkaku conceded. "Look, I know you're a lot stronger inside than I give you credit for. But . . . but maybe I'm not so strong."

"What do you mean?" Yumichika asked.

"I mean that I . . . I don't want to risk losing you," Ikkaku admitted at last.

"Ikkaku . . . "

"This is stupid talk," Ikkaku said gruffly.

Yumichika was not deterred. "Ikkaku, come here."

"I'm fixing the tea—"

"That can wait. Come here."

Ikkaku sighed in false exasperation and sauntered over to where Yumichika was lying.

"Sit down," Yumichika told him.

Ikkaku sat, but he would not make eye contact.

"You're right: this is stupid talk," Yumichika began. "Because the idea that I would walk away from you is stupid."

"You can't walk at all right now—"

"Ikkaku!" Yumichika chastised. "Just listen to me, and I promise I'll never bring it up again."

"Fine."

"If you're afraid that I'll leave you, you can stop worrying," Yumichika went on. He paused. "You told Kaekae that you hung around because I wanted you around. Don't you believe that?"

"Of course, I do," Ikkaku replied peevishly. "But there's no guarantee that that will last."

"There's no reason to think it won't," Yumichika replied. A grin appeared. "I mean, neither of us is exactly easy to get along with."

"You had everybody eating out of your hand," Ikkaku corrected.

"And see where it got me," Yumichika replied soberly.

"That wasn't your fault," Ikkaku said.

"Yes, it was," Yumichika replied, then before Ikkaku could argue, "I know you think it was your fault. But it was mine. I'm the one who used my looks and my—my body to get what I wanted. I knew I was seducing everyone around me. I'm the one who took that away." He paused. "And I'm the one who was foolish enough to think they'd let it go."

"But you'd never have stopped doing it if it hadn't been for me, and then they never would have hurt you like this," Ikkaku insisted.

"You're right," Yumichika replied. "And I'd still rather be where I am today than to go back to doing it again."

Ikkaku looked down. "It's like I said – you're stronger than me." He hesitated. "Because I'd rather we'd never have met than to risk losing you."

"But you didn't lose me," Yumichika pressed. "And you won't. I don't know what happened to you in the past, but I want you with me. If others cast you aside—"

"Stop, Yumichika," Ikkaku demanded. "That's none of your business. You weren't supposed to hear any of that, and it's nothing I want to talk about."

Yumichika nodded. "Okay. I'm sorry. I'll just speak for myself. We're friends, aren't we? Doesn't that mean something?"

Ikkaku frowned. "I guess so." He stood up. "So, as a friend, I guess I should let you see your reflection, then."

"You said you didn't bring a mirror," Yumichika said.

Ikkaku went to the cart and opened one of the underneath compartments. "I lied," he said, drawing out a face-sized hand-held mirror. "I knew the day would come when you were healed enough that you should see yourself again. This isn't the day, and I . . . I don't know how you'll feel after you see it, but . . . I guess I have no choice but to run that risk."

He handed him the mirror.

Yumichika hesitated, then held the mirror in front of him.

To his credit, he did not gasp or startle. He had been expecting the worst, and the truth was that this was nowhere near his most fearful imaginings.

Gruesome though it was, everything was still intact; the bruising and swelling had faded, except on his cheeks, where all that remained was the burned message, the lines now red and puffy but easily legible.

Madarame's Whore.

Again, he felt no sense of shock or horror. He had felt those emotions at the moment when the ember had touched his cheek. The message was insignificant when compared with the pain that had accompanied it.

Still, he now understood why Ikkaku had been so fearful of him seeing the inscription.

"It's not as bad as I thought it would be," he stated, turning his head to view himself from different angles in much the same way he always had when admiring his appearance.

Ikkaku wasn't sure if he meant it or was just saying it to ease his guilty conscience.

"You're still healing," he said anxiously.

"Oh, I think it will heal up so well that no one will ever know it happened," Yumichika said, feeling certain that the reikon could manage it. He looked up to see Ikkaku standing uncomfortably above him.

"I see now why you were worried," he said kindly. "But it doesn't make any difference to me, Ikkaku. It made them feel good to do it. But they've lost, because it doesn't make me feel any differently about you."

Ikkaku was silent, wondering how he could have stumbled upon such an exceptional soul, what he could have done to deserve such friendship when everything else in his existence had been one disaster after another.

"I'll get the tea," he mumbled. It was the best he could offer.

Yumichika did not pursue the matter any further. He took one final look in the mirror then set it aside. Very soon, even the marks on his cheeks would be nothing more than a part of the past.

The next two weeks introduced Yumichika to parts of the Soul Society that he had never known existed. His life, up until this point, had been limited to the area around the Ulandsee, and even then only a smart part of it.

What he was now discovering was what Ikkaku had told him long ago. While most of Soul Society was pleasant, there were dangers that could not be denied. Along with the beauty came ugliness – in many and varied forms.

The roads were filled with bandits and gangs, and it was only through Ikkaku's experience as a wandering vagrant that the two of them had not encountered any problems in that area. He knew the safest times to travel, the routes most removed from danger, and he had an uncanny ability for finding secluded, protected resting places that were accessible to the cart. He avoided the villages and towns and settlements; and whereas, the last time he had traveled this direction, he had not paid much attention to his surroundings, this time, moving at such a slow pace, he was able to absorb and admire the landscape through which he was passing.

His last time passing this way, it had taken him less than four days to travel this stretch to the mountains. This time, four weeks had already passed when he finally came to the foothills. Pulling the cart, keeping off the road during the daylight hours, and tending to Yumichika had naturally made the journey that much longer. During those four weeks, he had watched as Yumichika's strength and state-of-mind continued to improve. He still could not walk, but he could stand with help for short periods of time. The good-natured smile that had at one time seemed perpetual, before being lost in the aftermath of the attack, had returned.

The one thing that remained conspicuously absent was the egotistical exposition of his beauty. Yumichika did not say a word about his appearance, which actually struck Ikkaku as unfortunate, for he had come to enjoy listening to Yumichika's self-absorbed adulation of his own assets. He hoped it was not gone forever.

Late in the afternoon on the day they reached the foothills of the mountains, Ikkaku heard the distant rumbling of thunder. Looking back over the gently undulating landscape in the direction from which they had just come, he saw the sky was clear, which meant the storm was ahead of them, over the mountains. That further meant that the path he had wanted to take, a gully that ran up between steep, creviced walls of the mountain, would most likely soon be gushing with water and the higher elevations might even get some snow, being that it was only the beginning of April.

He would have to take another route or wait until the storm passed. Being as he despised waiting and had already done far too much of it over the past month, he decided to skirt the base of the hills and take the path along the broad river valley to the east. It was not his first choice. The narrow valley would have been much faster; but while the broad valley route would add a day or two the journey, there was little chance of it being overwhelmed by flood waters.

He turned to Yumichika. "We'd better put the cover up. I think it's going to be raining soon."

"Sounds like it. I wonder if there's anywhere to take shelter."

"If we come across any, we can stop. But let's get this cover up," Ikkaku replied.

Ten minutes later, the tarp was in place, and thirty minutes later, the rain came. It swept down off the mountain in powerful gusts that snapped the trees back and forth and immediately turned even the packed road into a nearly impassable river of mud.

Ikkaku knew there were caves up ahead, but they were still four or five miles off and on the forest track that led up into the mountains. Heading up the mountain was not something he wanted to do, in the event of snow at the higher elevations. He kept plodding on, coming to a series of run-down storehouses, but they were so derelict that he considered them more a danger than a refuge. A single strong wind could bring the decaying roofs down upon them. He kept going.

At length, the driving rain slowed to a steady downpour and then to a light rain. Ikkaku was drenched to the bone, and dare he admit it, tired. He looked up at the rising mountains on his left. There was no snow on them. That meant he might be able to take the mountain track after all, if it was not too rutted. At this point, he was willing to give it a try. He could use a stop in the caves where thermal springs provided the means for a hot soak.

He went around to the back of the cart and looked inside. Yumichika was lying on his side, and even though his face was obscured by the slate of black hair, Ikkaku could tell he was asleep. Ikkaku closed the flap and looked up and down the road. There was not another soul in sight – not surprising, given the weather. He must be the only fool out in it. To his left, the land climbed up into the hills and mountains. On his right, there was a wooded embankment that climbed at least twenty vertical feet over a gradual, wooded slope. On top, he could see a few rocky outcroppings which would afford a good view down the road and perhaps give him an indication of how much further he had to go before reaching the mountain track.

It would take him less than two minutes to reach the top of the embankment. He could be up and back, and Yumichika would not even know he'd been gone. He sprang up to the first ledge and plunged into the woods. The rain had turned the embankment into a crumbly slope, and he lost his footing several times. As such, it took him about five minutes to get to the top. Looking to the east along the road they were traveling, he could see the hazy outline of a bowl-shaped hill rising through the rainy mist about a kilometer ahead. The mountain track ran over that hill.

Ikkaku nodded his decision. He could be at the foot of the track in less than thirty minutes.

He was about to start heading down when movement in his periphery caught his attention. He looked down towards the cart. There were men approaching it – he counted six.

A smile crossed Ikkaku's face. Suddenly, the tiredness left his body. This was just what he needed. A little diversion.

In the cart, the cessation of motion was enough to rouse Yumichika from his sleep. He'd become so used to the swaying and pitching of the cart that its absence reached clear through his unconscious state and prodded him to wakefulness. He sat up and stretched.

"Ikkaku?"

Receiving no answer, he leaned forward and opened the canvas flap in the back of the cart. Immediately, his eyes fell on the image of several men on the road, coming towards him. But before panic could set in, he heard Ikkaku's voice coming from somewhere behind him.

"If you're looking for trouble, you've found it." In the next moment, Ikkaku came into view, his scabbarded sword resting over his shoulder like a lumberjack holding an ax.

"No trouble, friend," one of the men replied in a manner that clearly bespoke trouble.

"Then just keep on moving," Ikkaku advised.

The men stopped several meters in front of him. "You got val'able cargo in dere?" the same man asked.

"I said keep moving," Ikkaku replied.

From the tone of Ikkaku's voice, Yumichika could tell that he was not concerned in the least. Ikkaku already knew he could take these men if need be.

"Who's Madarame?" a second man asked.

Ikkaku was perplexed, but he did not show it. "I am. What business is it of yours?"

"You his owner?" the second man nodded towards the cart.

Ikkaku was loose. "I'm nobody's owner."

"You got yer name etched into his face." It was still the second man. "Why is that if he ain't yours?"

The kanjis. Ikkaku had forgotten about them.

"I'm only going to tell you one more time. Be on your way," he warned.

The first man crossed his arms thoughtfully. "You can see why he's branded. Maybe he is a whore, but I'll bet he's a really good one." A pause. "You sellin'?"

Ikkaku drew his sword from its scabbard. "Why don't you come find out?"

"Just tryin' to give you a good deal," the first man went on. "We'll pay you plenty. He'll bring a good price - even wi' his face like dat."

Ikkaku narrowed his eyes. "You're slavers."

"Us? Nah. We're just dem what finds nice merc'andise an' gives it to da traders."

Ikkaku was horrified. "Go. Back the way you came. Make one wrong move, and I'll kill you. Believe me, you won't stand a chance against me, and I'm dying for a fight."

The man considered. "Seems a shame to let him go, but . . . " He shrugged. "Not worth getting' killed over. Plenty more to be found."

He turned and began walking back own the road. The others followed him.

No sooner had they started walking than Ikkaku scowled and leaned back against the cart. "Damn! I was hoping to get some practice in." He glanced over at Yumichika. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Yumichika replied. "I just can't—I can't believe they wanted to sell me."

Ikkaku was not so surprised. "It's still a business, even in Soul Society. And they're probably right. You would bring in a hefty sum."

Yumichika was pensive. "It's never really going to end, is it?"

Ikkaku knew Yumichika was not talking about the slave trade, but about his own situation, his desirability, the way he attracted even unwanted attention.

"It has ended," Ikkaku said emphatically, fearful that Yumichika might fall back into melancholy. "I'm here to make sure of that."

"You can't stop them from wanting me," Yumichika sighed.

This was true. Ikkaku could not argue the point. He drew in a deep breath.

"That's part of who you are, Yumichika. You're not just beautiful, you . . . it's like you said the day I met you – there's something about you that's . . . captivating, and people want to possess it."

Yumichika looked at him plaintively. "I can't help that—"

"I know you can't – right now," Ikkaku replied. "But I think you can learn how. It's not just a quality you possess. It's an ability, and you can learn how to control the ability."

"I didn't use my ability to attract those men," Yumichika protested.

"I know," Ikkaku replied. "But you could learn to use your ability to temper whatever it is that makes people want you in that way. You're going to have to try. Otherwise, this sort of thing is going to keep happening."

The bluntness of this last statement brought a chill to Yumichika's heart, but Ikkaku went on before he could indulge his grief.

"Would you rather be ugly? You value your own beauty so much, would you rather be ugly and repulse people?"

His words had the intended effect of choking off Yumichika's emotional floodgate, but there was something else. Ikkaku sensed a wall go up immediately. It was the same reaction Yumichika had shown the first time Ikkaku had off-handedly mentioned the idea of Yumichika being ugly. Obviously, something in his remark had struck a nerve, and now Yumichika was retreating.

Ikkaku pushed past the awkwardness of the moment. "It looks like we can take the mountain path up ahead. I think it will be good to get off the main road. I'll bet those guys were hiding in those ruined storehouses we passed a few miles back. I don't think we'll see anyone going through the mountains. And there are some caves with thermal springs in them. It will be good to warm up and take a soak. It'll take me a couple hours, so you can go back to sleep. Get some more rest."

Yumichika nodded.

The difficulty of the going helped mitigate the thoughts racing through Ikkaku's mind. What was he going to do? He feared that the incident would throw Yumichika back into moroseness and undo all the progress he had made thus far. Yumichika had been so happy since leaving Mito, recovering so well, he was to the point where Ikkaku had imagined he'd be up pulling the cart himself in a matter of weeks.

Now, he wasn't sure. He'd already seen what the event had done to him from an emotional standpoint. And he was stymied as to what to do about the situation, for the undeniable truth was that, until Yumichika learned how to turn off his desirability, he was at risk; and Ikkaku could only do so much to mitigate that risk.

Still, the incident with the men had not seemed to upset Yumichika nearly as much as Ikkaku's ugly comment. It was baffling, and it needed to be dealt with. But how? How could Ikkaku know that in handling it, he wouldn't make it worse?

The last thing he wanted was to cause Yumichika any more pain.

"He left you." The reikon's voice was derisive. "The big oaf. He knew you were helpless, and he left you."

"Don't be angry at him," Yumichika implored. "Nothing happened. He came back in time, and he couldn't have known those men would show up."

"For your sake, I will forgive him," the reikon said haughtily. His manner actually gave Yumichika a sense of relief, for it was indication of just how much spirit energy the reikon had regained. He seemed to be almost fully recovered. "He certainly excels in idiocy."

"Just a few weeks ago you were praising him for taking me away from Mito," Yumichika reminded him.

"Yes, and now I am blasting him for almost allowing a band of cutthroats to carry you off and sell you into slavery," came the heated reply. "Why are you defending him? He said he was going to protect you."

"But he did protect me. Nothing happened. Who are you to criticize him?" Yumichika chastised gently. "You're in here. He's out there."

The reikon drew back indignantly. "Are you comparing me to him? Are you forgetting that I am the one who saved your life? You didn't want to live after the attack in Mito. Madarame was nowhere to be found when that attack happened. He showed up afterwards, and even then, it was I who had to save you from giving in to despair—"

"Kimi," Yumichika interrupted, reaching out a hand. "I'm not blaming you. And I don't want you to blame Ikkaku."

The reikon did not take his hand but folded his arms stubbornly across his chest. "I put blame where it belongs. This whole incident was all Madarame's fault—"

Yumichika shook his head. "No, it wasn't his fault at all. It was mine." He paused and looked the reikon in the eye. "And yours."

"Mine?" The outrage reverberated through the maroon room.

"You haven't taught me how to control my power," Yumichika asserted. "And I haven't learned how to defend myself."

The reikon hesitated and returned his gaze with intensity. "What are you saying?"

"I'm ready to try," Yumichika replied.

"You know it's been your own bull-headed stubbornness that's stopped you from learning how to fight," the reikon snorted. "As for controlling your power, what should I do about that?"

"You can teach me – both things," Yumichika replied. "I know you can, so don't pretend you can't."

"Learning how to control your power means learning how to control me," the reikon said in a grave voice. "Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes," Yumichika replied with a slow nod.

"You're not afraid?"

"Should I be?" Yumichika replied.

"That's a good question," the reikon replied, seeming for a moment, to become scatterbrained and distracted. It was one of his most endearing characteristics – that he could not hold on to any negative emotion for more than a few seconds. His nature was mercurial, and so were his moods. He straightened up. "Very well, then. As soon as you're fully healed, we'll begin."

This time it was the reikon who held out his hand and pulled Yumichika to his feet. He drew him close and wrapped him in an embrace from head to toe.

The amount of energy suddenly pouring into Yumichika's body took his breath away. "What—what are you doing?" he gasped.

"Speeding things up," the reikon replied. "You've made me anxious."

"A-Anxious?"

Yumichika could sense an excitement so vast he could not take it all in.

The reikon's voice came from all around him. "Anxious for you to command me."

"Yumichika?"

It was Ikkaku's voice, interrupting a deep, much needed sleep. But he could not ignore him. That would be rude.

"Mm?" he mumbled.

"I've found a safe place. Do you want to get out?"

Yumichika pushed up onto his elbows and rolled over into a sitting position. He started to slide out, and Ikkaku reached in and helped him down.

"Can you walk?" he asked, keeping one arm around his waist.

"I need your help," Yumichika replied.

Ikkaku supported him over to a flat rock beside a small pool of dark, bubbling water.

Yumichika looked around. They were in a fair-sized cave in which several pools of water stood steaming in the fading daylight as it angled into the cave. From the quality of the light filtering in, Yumichika surmised it was twilight, and although the rain was still falling and dropping the temperature outside, inside the cave was warm from the heat of the thermals. Not only that but there was a stack of dry wood near the back of the cave, and from this Ikkaku had already started a fire in the center of a circle of rocks clearly arranged for sitting.

"Okay, let's get you in there—"

"In—there? In the water?"

"Yes. It'll do you some good."

"Is it safe here?" Yumichika asked. "It looks like travelers stop here. These springs must attract people, and look, there's wood stacked up—"

"I stacked that wood the last time I came through here," Ikkaku replied. "And I arranged these stones. Yeah, other people may come here, but I've never seen any. Now, stop worrying and let's get you in the water. There's a big ledge here where you can sit. Come on, I'll help you."

Once Yumichika was in the water, he discovered just how much he'd missed a hot bath all these weeks. He'd bathed in streams and rivers, the occasional field pond. But this was like heaven, if there were such a place.

"You just sit there and soak for a while," Ikkaku instructed. "I'm going to stoke this fire."

"So, you knew this was here," Yumichika stated.

"Yep."

"How far are we from where we met those men?" Yumichika asked.

"Oh, a couple kilometers, I guess. Maybe a little more. We're in the mountains now. I was going to take the road in the valley, but since I didn't see any snow on the mountains, I thought we could take that route instead," Ikkaku explained.

"A couple kilometers? And you pulled me and the cart uphill—"

"Yep, jerking all over the place, and you didn't stir once."

"That's true. I was out."

"It seems to have done you some good."

Yumichika nodded slightly. It had done him untold good, but in a way he could not explain to Ikkaku.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Well, it took about five hours to get here, so . . . five hours." He set more wood on the fire turning it from a smoldering smoke-maker into actual flames, then returned poolside with a ceramic jar of soap and some towels. "I think you can clean yourself."

"Yes, I can."

"Then I'm going to prepare something for dinner. Don't fall asleep and go sliding below the surface."

"I'll do my best."

An hour later, Yumichika was ready to get out of the pool. He had, in fact, finished bathing much sooner, but the heat felt so wonderful that he'd been loath to quit the comfort of the ledge. However, dinner was ready, and Ikkaku was insistent that Yumichika come sit close to the fire as night fell.

As they ate, Ikkaku marveled silently as Yumichika's inexplicably improved mood. It seemed to him that Yumichika could not be kept down, that somewhere inside, he possessed a well stream of both mental and emotional resilience that was nothing short of miraculous.

And yet, there was something bothering Ikkaku that he simply could not put to rest.

"I've been meaning to ask you something, Yumichika," he began, keeping his eyes on his plate. He took a mouthful of plain rice. "But I don't want to upset you."

"Go on," Yumichika invited.

"You always act strange when I talk about how it would be if you were ugly," Ikkaku began. "You get angry if I even suggest it." He looked up finally. "Why?"

The dim glow of the embers cast Yumichika in hues of orange and red, a gentle expression on his face. He might have been more beautiful than Ikkaku had ever seen him, even with the marks still visible on his skin.

"It was a reflex reaction," Yumichika replied.

"But why?"

"My mother always used to say, 'If the soul is ugly, it doesn't matter how beautiful the body is. Only one lasts forever'."

"Nice thought."

Yumichika spoke tentatively. "She used to say it to comfort me."

"To comfort you? Why?"

Yumichika looked into the flames. "If you'd seen me in the living world, Ikkaku, you wouldn't recognize me. I'd even say that you'd—you'd have been repulsed like everyone else."

Ikkaku's silence invited him to go on.

"You see . . . my mother got very sick when she was pregnant with me. They were afraid she was going to die. The doctors and all her friends tried to convince her to . . . to end her pregnancy, but she wouldn't. She didn't believe in that sort of thing. And when I was born, there were a lot of things wrong with me. I had a lot of . . . deformities and my body was very weak. And they told her again that she should just . . . let me die. But she loved me, and she didn't care about the things that were wrong with me. As I got older, I started to understand that I was . . . ugly. The other kids were either afraid of me or they made fun of me. It hurt, and so I . . . I never left the estate. Instead, I would work with my mother, growing things in the garden or making clothes for the poor people in the outlying villages. I learned about herbs and a little medicine and took care of sick animals. My father taught me how to make furniture and how to paint. My brothers and sister used to play games with me, and they were always careful not to hurt me. My family . . . they were the only ones who loved me, the only ones who didn't look at me with . . . " He couldn't finish. "My mother used to tell me that it didn't matter what was on the outside, that I had a beautiful soul. My father used to say the same thing, that my soul was the most beautiful he had ever known. They made me feel like I . . . like I was worth something when everyone else just saw me as a burden. Then when I was nineteen, all my physical problems finally caught up with me, and I became very sick. They couldn't save me."

He paused and drew in a deep breath to steady his voice.

"When I died, I was terrified. I didn't want to go to Soul Society. I didn't want to leave my family. They were the only ones who had ever cared about me, who weren't afraid or horrified of me. I was afraid if I went to Soul Society, there would be no one to care about me, that everyone would make fun of me again. So, I didn't go. I stayed with my family, and I could see how much my death had hurt them. They were so sad, and . . . I wanted to let them know I was still there and all my pain was gone. I couldn't leave them, and I didn't want to. But then a hollow found me and started to stalk me. I didn't know it was a hollow at the time. To me, it was just a monster, and I spent a long time running and hiding from it. It kept me from going near my family, and I . . . I became angry and despairing and desperate. I started to hate my family because they couldn't help me. I didn't want to hate them, but I couldn't stop myself.

"And then one day, I had the sense that someone else was hunting me, and I was afraid so I hid under a bridge on the edge of my family's estate . . . and this woman appeared. She was dressed like a soul reaper, and she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen."

"Won't you come out? I won't hurt you. I'm here to help you."

"But I wouldn't come out. I stayed hidden in the shadows where she couldn't see me. I was afraid if she saw me, she wouldn't want anything to do with me. But when I looked at her, it was like . . . looking at the sun."

"Why are you hiding?"

"I—I'm afraid it will find me."

"You've been running from a hollow, haven't you? I've been tracking it for the past few weeks. But I didn't know who it was after."

"I want it to go away."

"She held out her hand, and there was such kindness, such sweetness in her face."

"You don't have to be afraid. I'm here to take you to Soul Society. The hollow won't be able to follow you there."

"I don't want to go."

"Why not? You'll be safe there, and it's a nice place."

"They'll hate me when they see me. No one will want me."

"They won't hate you. Why would you say that? Come, take my hand. Come out and I promise I won't hate you."

"The only way I could make her understand would be to show myself to her, so I took her hand and went out into the light. She was even more beautiful up close, and . . . and the way she was looking at me . . . she wasn't afraid or disgusted."

"There, you see. I don't hate you. Why would you think people will hate you?"

"Because I—I'm ugly."

"She was looking at me very strangely, as if I were speaking a language she didn't even understand. Then she held my hand tighter."

"Come with me. I want to show you something."

"She took me out into the sunlight. It was winter, and the air was cold, but the sun was out and it was a very bright day. She took out her zanpakuto and said some kind of incantation. Her sword dissolved into the air and it . . . it reflected the light. She told me to look into the reflection, and . . . I had never seen the person looking back at me, but I knew him so well."

"It's . . . it's me . . . . how can that be?"

"This is your soul," she said. "I don't know what your physical body looked like, but this is what your soul looks like." She looked right into my eyes. "You're the most beautiful soul I've ever seen. And you don't belong here in sorrow. You'll become a hollow yourself if you stay here. Come to Soul Society."

"But my family—"

"They wouldn't want you to be running from hollows and hiding under bridges. They wouldn't want to see you so sad. If they're sad, it's because they know you're sad."

"But I still wasn't convinced."

"But what if no one wants me? I always only lived with just a few people. I don't know how to—I don't know if I can be around anyone else."

"I'll take care of that. Instead of performing a konso and sending you back with a hell butterfly, I'll take you myself."

"She took me to see my family once more, then she brought me to Soul Society, to the meadow above Paikuu. She knew that I needed a quiet, safe place to settle in and get used to being in a new world. And even though I haven't seen her since, she was right. I was happy when I came to Soul Society." Yumichika smiled into the flames. "I owed it all to her. If she hadn't found me, I would have become a hollow."

Ikkaku looked on in amazement. He could not have imagined a more incredible story if he'd tried, and it only made Yumichika seem more rare and perfect in his eyes.

And yet in brought into glaring clarity the difference in their lives.

Yumichika had been born, weak and hideous, into a wealthy family. And despite his handicaps, his family had adored and cherished and loved him. That love had been enough to create a soul beautiful beyond words; but a soul so innocent that, left to fend for itself, it had succumbed to vanity and wickedness.

Ikkaku, on the other hand, had been born into no family, the child of a professional mistress and another woman's husband. He'd been gifted with startling good looks and a fine, muscular build; and yet he was welcome in no one's home. He'd been shunned and rejected by those who should have loved him the most.

But while Yumichika had been willing to tell his story, Ikkaku was not ready to tell his. The hurt was still too deep. There was no happy ending to his story – unless he carried it clear out to meeting Yumichika, and that would be too much sap for Ikkaku to bear.

"I understand now," he said at last. "I see why it hurt you when I said those things. I had no idea, Yumichika. I'm sorry."

"You didn't know," Yumichika replied. "And I guess . . . being ugly in the living world was actually a good thing, because it saved my soul." He frowned. "Only, after a while here in Soul Society, all my goodness got covered over because I was so in love with myself."

"I never would have guessed any of that," Ikkaku added.

Yumichika raised an eyebrow. "You recognized my ego immediately-"

"No, no, I mean, I never would have guessed at what you-at what your life was like in the world of the living," Ikkaku corrected.

"I should have told you sooner, but . . . I was embarrassed," Yumichika said, looking away for a moment.

"Idiot," Ikkaku chastised. "You have no reason to be embarrassed."

"You're not angry?"

Ikkaku shook his head. "I'm angry that I haven't been better to you," he said.

"Now, who's the idiot?" Yumichika smirked. "I couldn't have asked for a better friend."

That was enough sentiment for one day. Ikkaku got to his feet. "Do you want any more tea? It's getting late, and I think you should get some sleep."

Yumichika smiled. "One more cup."