XIX.

Requiem of Lost Souls III:

Helpless Loss

Dated: Gotei Thirteen Era Four

You only live twice
Once when you are born
And once when you look death in the face

The screams of pain and torture echoed on for an eternity. In the center of the circle of friends, Stark smiled. Blood had splashed over his white robes. Ichigo rounded on him, hatred in his eyes.

"Everyone…" He panted, not from being tired, but from the sheer strength of will that he used to prevent himself from shouting. "…I'll kick his ass."

"Let us help…" Rukia began to ask of her friend.

"No! Absolutely not. I won't watch you die!"

And with that, Ichigo blurred for a moment. He reappeared, standing on top of the Gates of Hell. A few tears ran down his cheeks. "I've watched my friends and family be torn away, one by one, by your kind, since the very beginning. Now, Primera… Now you will pay. Bankai." The words were cold and lifeless, like the headless body of Orihime which lay on the ground below him.

The blood red reiatsu rose up around him. When it cleared, his face was plain and bare. He showed no emotion, except a few tears which still ran down his cheeks. Reaching up to his face, he manifested the white mask.

No… I will avenge her with my own power.

And with that, he tossed away the mask. It bounced across the white sand, before disappearing beneath the endless dunes.

The tattered black robes blew in the vicious desert wind.

Then, at once, the robes were gone.

Ichigo stood on the side of a massive skyscraper. It was raining. Thunder cracked in the distance, echoing through the empty streets.

"Ah. Ichigo. It's good to see you again. How do you manage to stand in such places?"

This time, Ichigo didn't fall. Instead, he merely looked at his feet.

"I once lost someone precious to me." Zangetsu continued. "But that isn't why you're here, is it? You don't need my stories. What do you want?"

Ichigo took a deep breath. "Revenge."

The old man sighed. "You don't really want revenge."

"I can't get her back. There's nothing left for me except revenge, damn it!"

"Fine. Come over here. I do want to tell you one little story."

Ichigo looked up. Zangetsu reached up to his face, ripping off his sunglasses. Ichigo stared into the empty holes, and saw the tiny spark.

Clang

Black steel flew straight through Stark's sword like a bullet through paper.

The steel rained down into the sand as Ichigo lifted the long black sword again. His gaze shone, a tiny blue flame glowing from each eye.

Stark dove backward, clutching his shoulder.

"Done already? I though hollows loved to kill."

Stark hobbled back, trying to escape Ichigo's wrath. He had never seen a human like this. The wound Kousendo had dealt him had yet to heal. He bled from one knee, and several shards of his own Zanpank-to were embedded in his flesh.

Ichigo stalked forward, black blade raised over his head.

"Tell me… does it feel good to eat a human soul?"

Ichigo lopped off Stark's right arm.

The hollow screamed in agony. Ichigo neither laughed nor cried. His flaming gaze stripped down to the being of the hollow.

"Does it fulfill some… addiction to kill?"

He sliced off the remaining arm, leaving the armless Primera to struggle in attempt at escape. Ichigo was vaguely aware of the remaining Espada who fell from the air, landing in a circle around him. He didn't care. Only Stark mattered. His right leg was the next to go.

"Do you ever think of how they feel before they join in your torment?"

The black sword removed the final limb.

"Tell me, Stark. Before you killed her, did you ever expect to be put into her position? She had friends to avenge her. Let's see how much your friends appreciate you now."

Ichigo picked up the hollow by his throat. For a moment, he held the Arrancar at eye level. Their gazes were locked together. Then, with a scowl, Ichigo tossed the limbless body into the center of the horde of Arrancar foot soldiers. He was dead in seconds.

"Now… for the rest of you…"

No one followed his movement. In that instant, the Espada all died. There were no bodies. Only a few stains of blood and scraps of cloth attested to their former being.

And with that, Ichigo stood, his back toward his friends. His tattered robes blew, concealing his body. His black blade was held at arms length from his body. He tilted his head over his shoulder, looking at his friends.

"Go home. I'll meet you back there. Just give me a day to clean things up…"

The hollow army stopped it's fighting almost instantly. No one had seen Ichigo move.

No body remained attached to its head. No hollow lived on.

At once, the blood stained desert was silent again.

"Go home. I'll be back soon." Ichigo disappeared again.

After a moment, the group began to walk away, two less than they had come.

What's wrong with him? What happened to Ichigo?

Yamamoto glared as the massive, flaming dragon landed on the top of the tower between himself and his foes. Its body was composed of fire, with no flesh or bone to its existence. The roaring inferno around the three had not subsided at all.

The great beast lifted off the ground with a single mighty flap of its wings. As it rose into the air, Yamamoto leapt onto its back. His eyes still burned with the mighty fire.

"Well… we can't do much 'gainst him while he's way up there… What're we gonna do?"

Tosen stared up into the blindingly blight inferno as the dragon turned in midair, preparing to dive.

"The only thing we can do."

Gin smiled. "Bankai! Kyousanken!" He held his sword at arms length, this time, blade down. It shot into the ground. Around him, the landscape changed. Gaping black holes opened in the ground. Out of them rose literally thousands of tiny Shinsous.

"Bonkai. Suzumushi Tsuishiki - Enma Kourogi." The black bubble erupted around Yamamoto. There was quiet.

The massive dragon burst out of the side of the black ball. Gin dove to the side as it smashed its mouth down on the space he had just filled.

"Execute!" At once, every tiny blade turned, focusing their points toward the flaming monster. Each shot off, impaling the beast from every side. It howled in agony, dashing back toward the darkened bubble.

The blades slashed through its body, and the flaming beast disappeared, its nose only a few feet from the safe haven of its master.

"Now… Yamamoto dies." Tosen commented.

Gin merely nodded as the blades returned to their normal size. Slowly, they pivoted toward the black ball. For a moment, time itself seemed to freeze in place. Then the blades shot off. They flew through the inky sphere, swords through a magician's box. Only these blades did not do magic tricks. They killed.

The world was silent as the tiny floating blades retracted. Gin retrieved the true Shinsou, holding it gingerly between his fingers.

"Something is wrong here." Tosen muttered.

"What?"

"He isn't dead."

"He has to be dead. There's no way…"

The inky black ball burst into flames. Slowly, from the top down, it disappeared.

Yamamoto stood by himself in the center of the open space. He held in his fists a single sword. The inferno around the group was gone. Even the blade itself was not on fire. Instead, it glowed like a newly forged sword. A visible wall of heat shimmered around it.

"What?"

"There's no way…"

Yamamoto had moved. They didn't even see him blur before he used shunpo.

"You were good captains, once."

Yamamoto struck each of their swords. The weapons fell in a pile of ashes at their feet.

"So now I give you a choice. Live out the rest of your lives, no longer Shinigami, or die here, with what little honor you have left."

"I have lost. Justice demands that I suffer the consequences of my actions."

Yamamoto stared deep into his eyes. "Goodbye, Tosen."

The man fell into a pile of so much dust. Nothing was left.

Gin stared at the sky, thinking.

Yamamoto sighed, walking away. His sword remained glowing as he faded into the distance.

Ikatsue slid the red robe's sleeve back across the burnt flesh.

"For the past fifteen hundred years, I have burnt in Hell. Do you understand now, Aizen?"

Aizen drew his Zanpank-to. "So he finally managed to kill you, after all those years."

"As well as your two friends."

Aizen glanced over at the distant tower where the three had fought.

"He actually…"

"The time for fighting is upon us. Shall we?"

Aizen drew his sword. "Kudakero, Kyoka Suigetsu"

With that, Aizen faded into the background.

Ikatsue smiled. "Let's go, then…You must know what to do when you're alone. Why aren't you running?"

Aizen smiled back, invisibly.

Ikatsue felt the steel of Kyoka Suigetsu slide into his ribcage. It punctured his liver, and entered his stomach. He didn't even bother coughing up the blood from the blow.

"Telling yourself it's an illusion will do you little good. Pain is pain, call it what you will. Do you feel it any less deeply by thinking it's not real? How long will it be, I wonder, before your spirit is broken?" Ikatsue quoted coldly, his voice taunting Aizen with every word.

After a moment, Aizen's laughter echoed from the empty space. "As odd as it sounds that you should say that instead of me… wait a second, I've heard that before."

"Really? Well then… Hanto-Chi, Masamune."

The blade grew longer with each passing moment, until its length well surpassed Ikatsue's own height. The nine-foot long blade was flipped between the Reaper's fingers like a feather. A faint red glow emanated from the sword.

In that moment, he was stabbed three more times. He only smiled wider.

Then, with the same sadistic grin, he slashed Masamune through the air.

A single bolt of pure, blood red reiatsu shot out of the blade, flying off into the distance.

Ikatsue's smile disappeared as the blast connected with Aizen's body. It passed straight through, and kept on going.

Finally, the bolt stopped.

"How does the pain feel? Tell me, truly. Do you enjoy it? What does it mean...to hurt?"

Aizen gasped for breath, his breathing echoing over the open air.

"Please, answer me. It has been so long since I felt true pain. What does it feel like to know that you are about to die?"

Aizen gasped again. "How… how did you find me?"

"Even the strongest of opponents always has a weakness."

And then, at once, the gasping stopped.

Ikatsue dove to the side, slashing his blade through the space he had just left. No connection was made, but another red bolt flew from the weapon. This spiraled through the air, stopping a good twenty feet from Ikatsue. A few drops of blood appeared on the dome just below the point that the blast had disappeared.

"How do you find me?"

"You can make illusions, but my blade hunts for your chi; your very life force. Blood does not lie. You can't fool Masamune."

"Perhaps not…" The world shifted. Ikatsue stood in the vast, open space atop the massive Hill of Crucifixions in Seireitei. On the massive Tower of Solitude stood Aizen, smiling with a taunting grin.

Both stood silently for a moment. Finally, the Former 5th Squad Taichou broke the silence.

"Aren't you going to attack me?"

"It's just an illusion."

"You don't know that."

Ikatsue grinned. "I already checked. You weren't watching close enough. Or maybe… just maybe, you just aren't fast enough to begin with."

Ikatsue's head fell from his body. He reached down, picked it up, brushed it off, and replaced it.

"Well… that was anticlimactic." He mumbled.

"Well, well… so it is true. You really can't die, can you?"

Ikatsue smiled. He felt his heart give out. His neck snapped, and his arms broke in three places.

"Aren't you ever going to die?" Aizen asked.

"No. Just like in the war. All my deluded captains thought that Zantetsuken was my secret. That I couldn't die. At least Ran' didn't find out."

"Why did you start that war in the first place?" Aizen asked.

"Religion, ideology, resources, land, spite, love or "just because…" No matter how pathetic the reason, it's enough to start war. War will never cease to exist… Reasons can be thought up after the fact… Human nature pursues strife. That's just he way life goes. I started the war because it fuels my immortality."

"How many souls…?"

"Two hundred thousand. Of them, fourteen are left. Eight Taichou, five Fukutaichou, and one other."

"Who?"

"Kuchiki Seryi."

"Ah. I suppose that makes sense."

Ikatsue groaned aloud. "Enough talk. Now is a time for action." The man spun Masamune over his head, releasing a massive storm of reiatsu, which crackled through the air on its way toward Aizen.

Ikatsue watched as Aizen glimmered back into visibility. The white robed Shinigami sliced off the tip of his smallest finger, and threw the digit at Ikatsue.

Immediately, the glowing red storm of the blasts turned in midair, flying back at their master.

Ikatsue smiled straight into the bolts as they cut him down. His grin was still preserved as his jaw fell, separated from the rest of his face. His raucous laughter echoed over the open air long after he died. Then, slowly, the gore and guts began to move. The limbs lifted themselves from the ground, and they slid together. Ikatsue was reformed. The blow had stripped away his robes, leaving him bare-chested. He closed his eyes for a moment.

"These petty games have gone on long enough. Bankai. Gakuryoku Nitsuku Ryoku" A small spark appeared on the end of the sword. Slowly, it traced its way down the center of the blade. The steel split behind it like a zipper. Finally, it reached the hilt. Behind it, two parallel blades stood out, joined only at the handle. "Now… let's see how you do."

Aizen appeared behind him. "Kurohitsugi."

The black box sprung up around Ikatsue, who made no effort to escape it.

"You have quite a puny bankai. Where is the infamous release of Reiatsu? Where is its size? Where is its power?"

"You're good. You almost anticipated my moves. Almost."

"What the?" The black box disappeared. It was empty.

Ikatsue rammed the sword through Aizen's back, and then his good eye for just a fraction of a moment in surprise. "You used your Bankai too. Did you mask your voice?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Your illusion was able to use your techniques. Your clones before didn't have Reiatsu. You could fool my natural senses… but you can't fool these eyes."

Ikatsue reached up to his face. With the greatest of care, he removed his sunglasses. Beneath them, both eyes were clenched shut. With a smirk, he smashed the glasses in his palm. Slowly, he ground down on the shards of glass. Blood dripped out from between his fingers.

"It's not wise to judge others by your preconceptions and their appearances. My Bankai is far more powerful than yours. I will never be hit while using it. I know everything there is to know about battle. Knowledge is power, Aizen. Use it wisely."

And his blade struck real flesh. Aizen's eyes grew wide as the blade severed his hand. "How did you find me?"

"You won't live long enough for explanation to matter."

Aizen stabbed at Ikatsue three times. Despite being completely untraceable, all the attacks were blocked. Aizen backed away as Ikatsue blocked blow after blow. Slowly, the illusion began to fade. The white dome of Los Noches reappeared under their feet.

Ikatsue gasped. Around them, in a large circle, were six inky black balls. Each was emblazoned with a purple crescent for an eye. "Maestro!"

"Precisely. My personal army."

"Where did you find them?"

"They were drawn to me. I command them now."

Ikatsue sighed.

Kousendo was enough of a challenge. I thought there were only five Maestros. Where did these come from…? No. Of course. Espada are technically Shinigami souls… Clever… Very clever… and now I have to fight them. It was too close last time. Time to go all out.

"This is the end, Aizen."

"Are you conceding, already? At least amuse me before the end, Ikatsue-kun."

Black fire consumed Ikatsue's eyes, and Aizen felt sickened by the force of his reiatsu, even as he struggled to breathe. "Never speak down to me." Ikatsue's open hand drew another sword. "Koutai, Urakata!" Two more arms extended from his ribcage, drawing the remaining swords. "Kai, Zantetsuken. Shou, Murasame."

"What good will four Shikai do against my power? The power of my Maestros?" Aizen thought he could bluff, but as soon as the words left his tongue he could see that they were futile.

"If you only knew, Aizen. I've seen angels fall, Aizen, and you are not nearly so divine. Don't assume you have even a fraction of the power to challenge me. Bankai! Mokushiroku!"

His skin peeled away from his flesh. Slabs of muscle fell to the ground. Only his four armed skeleton remained. His black pants and heavy boots hung loosely over the bones. Two tiny sparks in his eyes were the only signs of life.

"Bankai! Odaku Eizou!"

Murasame grew even more black and twisted in his hand. Slowly, an air of decomposing flesh surrounded the skeletal body.

"Bankai! Makonran!"

The final sword, Urakata, shifted in the light wind of the desert, as though the blade were made of quicksilver.

"You are quite good, aren't you?"

"I have been accused of a great many things, Aizen. Weakness has never been one of them. Behold the last secret of the truly great Shinigami." His voice rasped, like a man dying of thirst, and echoed, like the shifting shadows of a cave. It didn't quite come from his head either. Instead, it seemed to be projected at Aizen's head from all sides.

"Kinkai! Kokkaku!"

Masamune erupted with red Reiatsu. It was as though a Taichou were releasing his reiatsu, yet the power came only from the blade.

"Kinkai! Kawari!"

Urakata erupted with a bright green light. It too was overbearing with strength.

"Kinkai! Shuuwai!"

Murasame exploded with a flash of dark, blood red light. It contrasted the beautiful glow of Masamune starkly.

"Kinkai! Zenshou!"

Zantetsuken did not give off light. Instead, it emanated darkness, sucking away all color, all sight, in a small area around it.

The bone of Ikatsue's jaw twisted itself into a glare. The black flames in his eyes grew higher yet.

And with that, he began to walk. The click of the steel toes of his boots was ominously eerie. Slowly, he walked over the dome. He reached the first Maestro. The hollow attacked Ikatsue.

As the bright flash cleared, only Ikatsue remained.

The scythe, Zantetsuken, was spun over Ikatsue's head casually as he killed three more Maestros. The others died quickly as well.

Aizen stood alone.

A million thoughts flew through his head. He considered his options, only vaguely aware that they numbered zero.

Ikatsue walked up to him and smiled. He put a tiny slice straight down the middle of Aizen's chest, from the base of his throat to his navel. It wasn't deep enough to hit muscle, or organs, but it did cut the flesh. Then, with a glare, he sheathed the swords. As the blades disappeared, his flesh again wrapped itself around him, followed by a Shinigami's black kimono, which seemed to manifest out of thin air. Last, he returned his sunglasses to his face, and then he smiled.

"That's… that's impossible. You can't…. you can't possibly…" Aizen stammered for words.

"They are called the Kinkai for a reason, Aizen. But that won't matter in a moment. Nothing matters for you, anymore. Men die. Souls fall. The Reaper lives on."

Ikatsue grabbed Aizen's chest by the two slabs of flesh he had created. With a yank, he revealed the man's ribcage. This he tore open with his bare hands. Aizen, still fully alive, gasped in pain. Ikatsue reached into his chest, ripping out his heart. This too, he twisted in half with his calloused, scarred hands. He reached into the center, pulling out a single dark grey orb. Without further ado, Ikatsue dropped it down his throat.

Gulp

Only then did Aizen Sosuke die.

Ichigo cradled the body in his arms. Orihime's hair fell over the tattered edges of his black robe. Zangetsu, still in Bankai form, was sheathed in cloth at his waist. Tears streamed from his cheeks as he walked the long, hard road back to the world of the living.

"She died?"

Ichigo turned. Ikatsue stood a few feet in the air behind him.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You want her back?"

The temptation was so great… for a moment Ichigo believed.

Then it hit him.

"Shut the fuck up, bastard. It can't be done."

Ikatsue slung Sokyoku from his back.

"Care to bet on that? Sosei, Sokyoku."

The blade cast off an eerily beautiful white light.

"What is that?"

"Sokyoku. I can return her soul to this body."

And slowly, Orihime rose to her feet. Her first instinct was to feel her own neck. Then she turned, bowing to Ikatsue.

"What is your will master?"

Ichigo drew Zangetsu.

"You bastard! I don't want some kind of slave…"

"Live your life, Orihime-chan. Go on freely."

And something changed about her. Whether it was the way she looked at the world, or the way she turned her head, it was clearly the girl Ichigo had known once again.

Ikatsue slung the sword back over his shoulder.

"Now… go home. Be happy." His tone made it clear that it was an order.

Ichigo smiled, grabbing Orihime's shoulders. The two flickered into the distance. Ikatsue reached down to his belt, drawing his new sword.

"Kudakero, Kyoka Suigetsu."

He experimented, creating a small flower in the open desert. It was a lie.

"You had best give up, Ikatsue." Yamamoto grunted over his shoulder.

"So you know?"

"You have no energy left." The old man noted. "Aizen's soul is little between us."

"I am still your better, Yamamoto."

"You were a more evil man than I long before I was even born." Yamamoto lifted his sword, still glowing bright orange with the flaming tone he had used to defeat Gin and Tosen.

"Ryujjin-Jakka does have a Kinkai." He smiled knowingly. "Now you finally see why I chose you."

Yamamoto brought the blade down from above Ikatsue's head.

The Reaper blocked the blow with the unreleased blade of Kyoka Suigetsu.

The steel melted into ashes and molten steel. Ikatsue felt Ryujjin-Jakka as it slid into his heart. He fell onto his back, gasping. No blood flowed from the seared wounds.

"Now you understand, Ikatsue. I finally have my revenge." Yamamoto knelt, taking Sokyoku from the man's back. "I stabbed you in the Spirit Lock. You will only be able to lie there, unable to even stand, as your reiatsu leaks. A great bait for the hollows. If you don't drown first."

Ikatsue looked up. Storm clouds were gathering over the desert.

Yamamoto grabbed the Royal Key from Ikatsue's robe, and then solemnly walked away. Ikatsue's vision began to fade slowly.

A rain drop fell. Then another. Soon, the desert would flood. The waters would cleanse the world. There would be nothing left. No sign of the Reaper.

"Bankai! Kyousanken!" Iron Curtain

For Translations of Ikatsue's and Yamamoto's swords, go to the next chapter.