The Peacock Part II: Wisteria

by The Kujaku

Part II of the Peacock. It follows the adventures of Yumichika and Ikkaku as Shinigami, as well as the development of the relationships the two share with their zanpakutos.

21. Chapter 21

Dear Reader, This is obviously a very long chapter! In trying to go through the zanpakuto rebellion, I had to do a LOT of condensing, so please understand that there will be some pretty jumpy parts to this story. For example, not all the fights are depicted, so if suddenly, a line pops up, "Abarai defeated Zabimaru", please don't be too disappointed that I skipped the actual re-telling of that fight. It would have made this chapter 1,000 pages long! I also took some liberties with the dialogue, because some of it just made no sense from the anime, considering these Shinigami and their zanpakuto have known each other for years. And if it seems that I'm hard on Byakuya, Rukia and Senbonzakura, just remember: I'm trying to depict how I think Ruri'iro Kujaku and Hoozukimaru would view them! Enjoy! TK

---

Chapter 21 Aesthetics

"Tell me someone why there's only confusion.
Tell me someone that this is all an illusion.
Tell me someone why this talk of revolution.
Tell me someone when we're changing evolution."

One More Time to Live
John Lodge

Ikkaku did not often worry about Yumichika. He knew the fifth seat was more than capable of taking care of himself. There were even times when he had to concede, albeit grudgingly, that Yumichika might be more capable than he was. Decades of watching Yumichika handle himself against any number of lethal enemies had perhaps made Ikkaku more jaded than he desired, but in all that time, he'd seen nothing to make him doubt Yumichika's prowess.

This time, however, was different.

The idea of Fuji Kujaku running wild was a frightening prospect. Ikkaku knew of the enmity between Yumichika and his zanpakuto, and he did not think it beyond reason that the kujaku might seek revenge against a master for whom he apparently had little love. Even more, he remembered the many times he had come upon the aftermath of Yumichika's battles. Just like that day at the quarry when Yumichika had been attacked by gypsies, Ikkaku had shown up to find the ground littered with dead bodies but with little sign of trauma. At the quarry, Yumichika had originally claimed that it had been the work of his own reiatsu, strong enough to crush his enemies. He had later admitted that it had been Fuji Kujaku's doing.

Now that power, and the hatred behind it, was loose and free to wreak havoc and claim vengeance.

Initially, when the fighting had begun on Sokyoku Hill, Ikkaku had not been worried one bit about Yumichika. The thrill of combat, the prospect of giving Hoozukimaru the thrashing he so deserved for his disobedience, the sheer novelty of seeing the zanpakuto spirits – these had all grabbed Ikkaku's attention, and he'd lost himself in the fray without a single thought for Yumichika.

But then, shortly after it had begun, the battle had turned bad. The idea that the zanpakuto might be quickly subjugated was shown to be a miscalculation of the highest order. It was understandable that the Shinigami might consider their weapons as inferior to themselves, given that they were the creators and the zanpakuto were the created. A sense of indignation had fired the Shinigami officers gathered on Sokyoku Hill, self-righteous incredulity at theperfidy of the zanpakuto in their attempt to assert their individual existences. The Shinigami had felt assured of victory, for the zanpakuto were extensions of themselves; and as extensions, they could not be greater than that from which they originated.

Now, the Shinigami recognized the pretentiousness of their assumptions. The zanpakuto were dangerous adversaries; and with them seemingly freed from any sense of duty to their masters, they posed a genuine threat to the Gotei 13.

When Captain Ukitake had sounded the retreat, Ikkaku's sense of excitement had begun to wear off. Eventually, he received word to report to Squad Four's barracks, which were functioning as a temporary headquarters. Here, he had expected to find Yumichika, but such was not the case.

He inquired, but no one had seen him; and when he reached out with his own limited abilities, he could not find Yumichika's reiatsu. By the time the sun had risen an hour over the horizon, he was prepared to set off in search of him. No sooner had he stepped out through the main gate of the Squad Four area than he saw Yumichika approaching across the broad lawn that fronted the divisional wall.

He allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief before putting his gruff exterior back in place. "Where the hell have you been?" he asked, trying to sound more like a ranking officer taking a report than a worried friend.

"Trying to find you," Yumichika replied. "I was following your reiatsu, but you were all over the place. And it's not exactly easy-going out there. I kept running into zanpakuto, so it took me a while to reach you."

"Did you fight any of them?" Ikkaku asked.

"Not really," Yumichika replied. "I did what I had to do to get past them. I was more interested in finding you than fighting them."

Ikkaku was tempted to chastise him for worrying too much, but he refrained. "When the retreat was called, everyone scattered. Finally, a hell butterfly found me and told me that the leadership was gathering here."

"Where were you going just now?" Yumichika asked.

"To look for you," Ikkaku replied.

"Well, here I am," Yumichika stated. "Have they come up with any plans?"

"I don't think so, not yet," Ikkaku said. "If they have, they haven't announced them."

They both turned back into the Squad Four area. Just inside the gate was a massive garden, the largest of any squad, partly ornamental, partly medicinal. On the right were the sprawling buildings of a hospital complex; on the left were the barracks, behind which were the training facilities; and straight ahead were the administrative offices. In the middle of the line of offices was a short tunnel that led back into the squad commander's offices, a dozen conference rooms, and a private meditation garden.

Ikkaku headed straight across the garden towards the private offices.

Beside him, Yumichika spoke. "I ran into Hoozukimaru."

Ikkaku stopped walking and turned to face him, a startled yet pleased look in his eyes. "You ran into him! I spent the whole time trying to find him before I got called here. Where did you find him?"

"He found me," Yumichika replied. "It was right at the start of the fight. I was running across the bridge towards the Prisoner's Tower, and the next thing I knew, the bridge was in pieces and I was spinning through the air. It was Hoozukimaru."

"How do you know it was him?" Ikkaku asked.

"He told me," Yumichika replied.

"Did you fight him?" Ikkaku could hardly contain his excitement.

Yumichika shook his head. "No, he didn't want to fight me. He's only interested in fighting you."

Ikkaku smiled wickedly. "Fine by me. I can't wait to kick his ass."

"He, uh . . . he seems very strong," Yumichika said.

"Of course, he is! I know that!" Ikkaku blurted out. "He's my zanpakuto, after all. I know everything about him."

"I just thought I should warn you," Yumichika clarified. "He's set on finding you and kicking your ass. I wouldn't underestimate him." Then he took a deep breath and gathered his courage . "You, uh, you didn't see Fuji Kujaku, did you?"

"I don't even know what he looks like," Ikkaku replied. "But if I did see him, he didn't say who he was."

Yumichika nodded. He felt fairly certain that Ikkaku had not seen Ruri'iro Kujaku, for there could be no doubt that the peacock would have immediately made his identity known to the man whom he deemed to be at the crux of all that had gone wrong over the past hundred-and-twenty-five years.

"You're worried about him," Ikkaku half-stated, half-questioned.

"He, uh . . . well, you know he's . . . he's very good at throwing tantrums, and I don't want anyone to get hurt because of him," Yumichika hemmed and hawed through his explanation.

Ikkaku could sense Yumichika's unease in talking about his zanpakuto. "Yeah . . . well, we'd better go inside and see what they want us to do."

Yumichika nodded, but the truth was that no matter what assignment he was given, finding Ruri'iro Kujkau and subduing him was his number one priority.

---

"It's about time you showed up," Hoozukimaru rumbled as Ruri'iro Kujaku approached him in the Great Hall atop the Senzaikyu. "I thought maybe you'd already found Little Pretty and had taken him off somewhere far away to torture him slowly over the next few days."

"No, I didn't find him," Ruri'iro Kujaku replied. "I wasn't even looking for him. I was just . . . enjoying my freedom."

"Well, I saw him," the dragon announced.

"Really? Did you defeat him?" Ruri'iro asked with a gleam in his eye.

"I didn't fight him," Hoozukimaru replied. "I figured I'd leave that to you."

"I don't care if I find him or not. I don't care if he's defeated or not. As long as I can be free of him, that's enough for me," the peacock shrugged carelessly.

"You're such a flake," Hoozukimaru chastised with a grin. "I can tell you, the second I find my master, it's on."

"I'd like to be on hand to see that," Ruri'iro chirped.

They began walking down a long hallway with a high vaulted ceiling and polished marble tiles that gave off a purplish luster in their glowing whiteness.

"I don't think my master has ever been in this place," Ruri'iro noted. "It doesn't look familiar."

"Mine's been here a couple times," Hoozukimaru said in response. "There's a balcony at the end that looks out over the city as far as the eye can see." A grin. "A bird's eye view of the destruction."

As they drew closer to the far end, they saw through the open door, a lone figure standing at the balustrade, looking out over the city.

Ruri'iro Kujaku stopped. "Ohhhh, why does he have to be here?" he groaned.

"I guess he had the same idea we did," Hoozukimaru replied. "Besides, word has it he already defeated his master, so I guess he has nothing else to do."

Still, that wasn't enough to pacify Ruri'iro Kujaku. "We can come back later. There are other ways to get a good view."

"Flashy, I know you and your master hate his master, but he may turn out to be . . . well, maybe he's not so bad," Hoozukimaru ventured, but his tone made it clear that even he did not hold out much hope for the truth of his words.

"I know you can't be serious," the peacock fussed. "Byakuya Kuchiki is the single biggest egomaniac in all of Soul Society—"

"You sure about that?" Hoozukimaru poked with good humor. "I can think of some competition in that area."

"Don't be smart," Ruri'iro snipped, glancing sideways at him. "My point is that Senbonzakura is every bit as conceited and prideful as his master. I've sensed that since day one."

"Well, he's on our side now, so try to be civil," Hoozukimaru warned. "Now, come on. You'll be fine. Don't let him get to you."

Easier said than done, but Ruri'iro accompanied the dragon the last few steps and out onto balcony.

If Senbonzakura detected their presence, and surely he must, for they were not hiding their reiatsu, he made no move to acknowledge their arrival.

Senbonzakura was Byakuya Kuchiki's zanpakuto – one of the most powerful zanpakuto in the Gotei 13, and Captain Kuchiki was not averse to his use. As such, Senbonzakura had seen a lot of action and, like his master, considered himself to be of a quality and stature far removed from the rank-and-file. Kuchiki was, after all, the head of one of the four noble families, and Senbonzakura was his weapon; that conferred upon the latter the same honors and deference due his master.

At least, that's how Senbonzakura viewed the matter.

Not everyone agreed with him.

Hoozukimaru was one who placed no value on position, nobility, stature or honor. He respected Senbonzakura's power, but he was neither intimidated nor impressed by him. Yes, he had heard that Senbonzakura had already encountered and pursued Byakuya Kuchiki to his destruction – a formidable task, indeed; but given the fog of battle and the confusion of those early hours of combat, Hoozukimaru was not fully convinced that rumors of the Squad Six captain's demise were true. Almost immediately after the battle had begun, it was reported that Captain Kuchiki had come to the aid of his sister Rukia and his lieutenant, Renji Abarai, only to be confronted by Senbonzakura. Although Captain Kuchiki had attacked aggressively, the fight had been short-lived. Senbonzakura had only to release his thousand blades, which pursued Byakuya from rooftop to rooftop, eventually enveloping and supposedly destroyed him, for he had not been seen since.

But to Hoozukimaru, it sounded like too easy a defeat. Captain Kuchiki, whatever his failings might be, could not be called an easy adversary. He was one of the Gotei 13's ablest warriors and not likely to fall so quickly to his own zanpakuto.

No, Hoozukimaru wasn't buying it. And he had a sense that Senbonzakura wasn't buying it, either. "What are you looking at?" he asked bluntly.

When no response was forthcoming, Ruri'iro Kujaku followed up in as pleasant a manner as he could manage, "Do you see something interesting?"

"That's none of your business," Senbonzakura replied in a deep, haughty voice without even deigning to face them.

"Oh, that's done it," Hoozukimaru grimaced inwardly, knowing that even a small snub like that would set Ruri'iro Kujaku off.

"What's with that attitude?" Ruri'iro demanded, taking a step forward.

Hoozukimaru could hear it in his voice: Ruri'iro Kujaku was insulted.

"Are you ignoring us?" the peacock further pressed when Senbonzakura did not answer.

"Forget about it," Hoozukimaru stated, knowing that any confrontation between these two would bring all sorts of unwanted attention and probably end badly – for Senbonzakura. For in Hoozukimaru's mind, the only thing that stood between victory and defeat for Ruri'iro Kujaku was the use of his true shikai; and now that he was free of his master's constraints, he could use it at will. Hoozukimaru was not sure how any adversary could defend against that power. Every shard of Senbonzakura's petals, being comprised of spirit particles, could be absorbed by Ruri'iro Kujaku's vines. Any injury the peacock sustained would be healed instantaneously. And on top of that, if Ruri'iro Kujaku were to release his seductive reiatsu, he could win a battle without having to engage in a single fight. It seemed almost unfair.

"But he's so arrogant! There's no need to be rude!" Ruri'iro spat out.

It was not lost on Hoozukimaru that his companion was accusing Senbonzakura of the very same things he himself had shown to the other zanpakuto, whom he had deemed beneath him. And perhaps that was what was at the heart of the matter here. Perhaps Ruri'iro Kujaku viewed Senbonzakura as an equal, while the latter viewed the former as an inferior. Senbonzakura, like the other zanpakuto, probably did not even know who Ruri'iro Kujaku was. The kujaku's delicate pride could not tolerate being treated with such disdain.

"Save your anger for the ones out there," Hoozukimaru went on, nodding towards the city stretching away before them and trying to avoid a flare-up. "Save it for Little Pretty."

At the sound of those words, Senbonzakura turned to face them. His ensemble was truly daunting. He was dressed in the full body armor of a Samurai warrior, purple and maroon, giving him a bulky, awkward appearance. He wore a fearful mask of an almost demonic visage with blackened eyes and a snarling mouth. His hair was black and tied back, leaving only two plaits to hang down each side of his face. His hands were covered in black leather. No part of his skin was visible.

"Whose zanpakuto are you?" he asked, directing the question at Ruri'iro Kujaku.

"Oh, now you want to chat?" Ruri'iro simpered, reaching behind him and pretending to primp the long blue braid.

"Tell me whose zanpakuto you are," Senbonzakura repeated. "I know you are Madarame's. But I don't recognize your reiatsu."

It was Hoozukimaru who replied, tongue-in-cheek, "If I'm Madarame's, whose do you think he would be? It's not hard to figure this one out."

"Fifth Seat Ayasegawa." A pause. "I might have guessed." He turned away again to face out over the Seireitei.

"What does that mean?" Ruri'iro asked, his voice rising.

"Who else would bring forth a zanpakuto who is so . . . campy?"

Ruri'iro Kujaku was in motion, but Hoozukimaru was quicker. He reached out and snagged the braid, giving a gentle tug that brought the peacock back to him. "Let it go," he urged in a whisper. "He's not worth it." He guided Ruri'iro towards the far end of the balcony. "Your enemy is out there."

Ruri'iro was still steaming, but Hoozukimaru knew better than to let him stew. A little diversion would turn his flakey companion's attention easily enough to other things.

"Just think . . . soon, you'll defeat him and then you'll truly be free," the dragon said enticingly.

Ruri'iro nodded his agreement, but it seemed forced, not genuine. "Yes . . . yes, I can't wait to find him and . . . "

"You're not wavering, are you?" Hoozukimaru asked.

"Of course not—"

At that moment, Muramasa appeared. "My friends, what are you doing gathered here?" he asked. "There are Shinigami to be dealt with."

"Muramasa-dono," Senbonzakura acknowledged. "I was trying to reach out and sense if my master was indeed defeated or if he has just gone into hiding. These two joined me and interrupted my search. But I am ready to do your bidding. What do you require of me?"

Muramasa smiled. This one was so easy. That rigid Kuchiki adherence to authority had been useful.

"I give you leave to go search out your master . . . in the event he is still alive."

Senbonzakura gave a single curt nod and was gone.

Then Muramasa turned to Hoozukimaru. "I want you to also go find your master and destroy him. He may have been able to hide his true power from others, but I know how strong he really is, and I know he has bankai. Very few of the other zanpakuto will be able to defeat him. You must go."

Hoozukimaru grinned anxiously. "Let's go, Flashy. Where my master is, yours is probably there, too."

"No."

They both turned at the sound of Muramasa's voice. "Ruri'iro Kujaku, you will come back to the cavern with me."

Immediately, Ruri'iro protested. He had only just had his freedom in the outside world for less than 24 hours. He was not about to go back into the dark, dank confines of the cavern. "Why do you want me to go back there?"

"We will discuss it once we're there," Muramasa replied.

"But I—"

Muramasa held up his hand and closed his fingers one-by-one.

Hoozukimaru spoke up. "You need to do as Muramasa tells you."

"That's it." The thought rose unbidden in Ruri'iro Kujaku's mind. "He does that thing with his hand, and that controls the zanpakuto. But he has to keep doing it, which means it must wear off ."

Only, it wasn't working on him. To Ruri'iro Kujaku, it was just a bizarre gesture that had no effect. Why? Could it be that his kido nature made him immune to such mind controls? Or was there something in his reiatsu that repelled such attempts at manipulation? Perhaps the same quality that gave him healing powers also protected him against attacks on his psyche.

He didn't know. He only knew that he was able to withstand a tactic that was reducing the other zanpakuto to murderous thugs.

The question was: did Muramasa know he was immune?

---

Yumichika was torn between frustration and fear as he touched down on the corrugated roof of one of the many old fish-packing plants that lined the shore of the great Hirtmyui Sea that lay due east of the Seireitei. Several of the plants were still in business. Others had shuttered their doors and now lay in collapsing ruins. They were monuments to a once great industry, but over the years, the souls arriving in Soul Society had come with less and less spirit energy; thus, the need for sustenance as a whole had fallen off. Fish was still a staple but much less in demand than even twenty years ago. The diminishing spirit energy of the souls both in Soul Society and in the living world was a mystery that the brightest minds in Soul Society had been trying to crack for the better part of fifty years.

The sun was setting on the first day of the rebellion, and Yumichika was coming to the end of a day that had been passed almost entirely in the search for Ruri'iro Kujaku. When he and Ikkaku had parted ways that morning, he'd been apprehensive. Now, he was close to panic. While he'd felt Ruri'iro Kujaku's reiatsu, he'd been unable to pinpoint it. With zanpakuto spirits running amok, the air was full of mixed spirit energies that made the isolation of any one in particular difficult. On the one hand, it was good that Yumichika had only felt the low-level existence reiatsu of his zanpakuto, because it meant Ruri'iro had not used his powers – that Yumichika would surely have felt. On the other hand, it made the peacock almost impossible to track.

Yumichika doubted very much that his zanpakuto had come this far out, but he'd decided to take a look anyway, given that he'd not found him anywhere closer. He went from warehouse to warehouse, from dock to dock. There was no sign of the peacock.

For a moment, he contemplated going to his inner world to see if he could contact Ruri'iro Kujaku, but something held him back. During the meeting at the make-shift headquarters in Squad Four, all the other Shinigami present had related that they had already tried to do just that: seek out their zanpakuto in their inner worlds. None had been successful. Therefore, to Yumichika, it seemed like a waste of time. But even more so, going to his inner world would seem like . . . a defeat, a caving-in. It would be as if Yumichika were begging Ruri'iro Kujaku to be compliant and obedient.

Yumichika was not going to beg Ruri'iro Kujaku for anything.

Tracking him down out here and defeating him was the only satisfactory option.

And he would have to do it without the use of his shikai. He could not even use his partial shikai. That, too, had been taken from him and accomplished, he imagined, with great glee. Ruri'iro Kujaku must have been thrilled that he no longer had to release at the sound of the much-despised false name. Yumichika knew his zanpakuto had many reasons to be angry with him, but to what extent he would take out his vengeance . . . that was yet to be answered.

One thing was for certain: Ruri'iro Kujaku could cause a great deal of damage if not brought under control.

And there was no one who could do that except Yumichika, and he would have to do it alone or risk revealing his secret.

He had to find Ruri'iro Kujaku before the chance for secrecy was lost altogether.

---

At last the others were returning.

For the past twelve hours or so, Ruri'iro Kujaku had been waiting in the cavern alone. Even Muramasa had gone off and left him many hours ago.

He'd contemplated leaving more than once, but then he would recall the conversation he and Muramasa had exchanged earlier that morning upon their return to the cave . . .

"You're unaffected by my power."

They were the only two in the cavern, Muramasa having sent the others back out to wreak more havoc. Only Ruri'iro Kujaku had been withheld.

"I wouldn't say that," Ruri'iro replied. "You were able to enter my inner world."

"But I can't see your greatest desire," Muramasa admitted. "With the others, it was easy. They broadcast their innermost wants. But you're a puzzle. Freedom wasn't enough for you. The opportunity to overthrow your master isn't enough. The chance to be seen by the world isn't enough. What is it that drives you?" A pause. "And how are you able to resist my control?"

"I'm not immune," Ruri'iro replied without missing a beat. It was a lie, and he could only hope that it was well enough delivered to fool Muramasa. "I'm like the others, compelled to do as you say. But you called me contrary earlier, and that's true. I don't give in easily. I don't like being made to do things that are ugly."

Muramasa regarded him through narrowed, skeptical eyes. "I'm not sure I believe you."

"Have I disobeyed you thus far?" Ruri'iro asked. "I've done everything you've commanded."

"Not exactly." Muramasa raised his hand and took the hair of one blue plaits between his fingers, rubbing the strands as if he were sifting sand. "You took no part in the devastation that the others wreaked upon the Seireitei. You were nowhere to be found."

"I was enjoying my first trip to the outside world in over a hundred years," Ruri'iro replied.

Muramasa continued playing with the hair in his hand. "Yes, that's an interesting talent you have, to manifest into this world at your own will." He paused. "Why didn't you overpower your master and come out during all those long, lonely years? You could have done it. You chose not to. Why is that?"

Ruri'iro Kujaku despised him. Despised him for knowing things that should have been hidden. Despised him for his insidious voice and his implying eyes. Despised him for his powers, his infiltration of the sanctuary of zanpakutos' inner worlds.

"There must be a reason," Muramasa went on, his hand moving up to caress the cheek. "Of all the zanpakuto, you would have had the easiest time of killing your master after I set you free. But you went off . . . sight-seeing. You're full of rage and hatred and power . . . but you don't use it, not even when given the chance to proceed unhindered."

Ruri'iro Kujaku stared back at him, attempting to maintain a neutrality of appearance and emotion. He must not let the slightest crack show—

"Is it because . . . " Muramasa's eyes widened briefly. A hideous smile curled his mouth. "I see. I see it now. I can see your greatest desire. You don't want to defeat your master." He drew closer and spoke in a whisper. "You want him to love you."

Ruri'iro Kujaku jerked away, furious and frightened with himself for having given so much away.

Muramasa was placid. "So, that's it. You want his love. No matter what he does to you, you still want his love. Amazing." He nodded slowly, turning away and heading for the staircase. "Wanting to be loved . . . that's a dangerous thing. Unconditional devotion to your Shinigami is a fool's path." He began ascending the steps. "And I cannot allow such a desire to stand."

"What do you mean?" Ruri'iro Kujaku snapped.

"There are times when you have to choose," Muramasa replied over his shoulder. "And the more important the matter, the more difficult the choice. You will see. You will see when I return." He stopped walking, but did not turn back when he spoke. "I suggest that you don't try to leave here while I'm gone, because I can always find you. And you don't want to incur my wrath."

And so Rurii'iro Kujaku had decided to stay put – not solely because of Muramasa's warning, but because he could not come to terms with what the rogue zanpakuto had said about his motives. How dare he presume to say that Ruri'iro wanted the love of his master? He'd given up on that desire so long ago, he could no longer remember when it had ceased being important to him.

Besides that, he did not want to leave without Hoozukimaru; and at the moment, he was not sure he could overcome Muramasa's mind control and convince the dragon to go with him.

But now the other zanpakuto were returning, and Hoozukimaru was among them.

Immediately, Ruri'iro Kujaku approached him. He could sense that the dragon was exhilarated.

"What's been happening out there?" he asked.

"Have you been in here the whole time?"

The tone in Hoozukimaru's voice was almost scoffing, and it took Ruri'iro Kujaku by surprise. It hadn't been his first choice to be sequestered away during the fighting. Muramasa had insisted, and Hoozukimaru had encouraged him to do as Muramasa had said.

He turned away without replying, his feelings bruised. He was beginning to think leaving his inner world was the greatest mistake he could have made.

Then he felt Hoozukimaru's arms close around him from behind. "Why are you walking away?"

Ruri'iro Kujaku did not answer. He only sunk into the dragon's embrace, leaning back against him.

"Are you alright?" Hoozukimaru asked. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

And then Ruri'iro Kujaku realized that Hoozukimaru hadn't been scoffing or belittling at all. It had all been Ruri'iro's own perception, colored by his unhappiness.

"No, he didn't hurt me," he answered. "I just want all of this to be over, so we can go our own way."

When Hoozukimaru did not say anything, Ruri'iro went on. "Don't you feel the same way?"

After a considerable pause, Hoozukimaru replied, "I had fun out there today. Kicking up on Soul Reapers is a fun way to pass the day. I'm just pissed off because I didn't see my master."

Ruri'iro Kujaku withdrew from his arms and turned to face him. "Are you saying you want to stay here and keep doing this? Even after you defeat Madarame, you want to stay here and keep fighting whomever you can find?"

"I dunno. Maybe."

Ruri'iro felt as if the ground had crumbled beneath him. "So I—I left my world for nothing."

"No, you left it for freedom—" Hoozukimaru began, but Ruri'iro cut him off angrily.

"This isn't freedom! This is—just another kind of servitude, and you're being drawn right into it!" With that, he retreated into the shadows where Wabisuke stood in dread silence.

Hoozukimaru did not go after him. It seemed the peacock needed some time to cool off and come to his senses. Being left out of the fighting had probably bruised his ego. Ruri'iro Kujaku was such a prideful being and easily offended. Yes, best to let him simmer down for a bit.

He turned and walked over to where Kazeshini sat kicked back at the table.

"I hear Zabimaru lost to Abarai," he announced.

"Ha! Losing to his Soul Reaper!" Kazeshini sneered. "How pathetic!"

"Maybe," Hoozukimaru replied, "But one thing it proves . . . we can be defeated."

It was, indeed, true that they could be defeated, and it was true that Renji had bested Zabimaru. It hadn't been the prettiest of victories; but in the end, Abarai had resorted to his limited use of kido – almost killing himself as well as his zanpakuto in the process. The tactic had taken Zabimaru off-guard, after which Renji lulled the pair into thinking they had defeated him. By invoking his Higa Zekko method, he was finally able to defeat his zanpakuto and return its two elements back into one sword.

The other zanpakuto had not expected Zabirmaru to fall so soon in the battle.

"That's what happens when you send a woman and a kid up against even a third-rate Shinigami," Kazeshini boasted. "My Shinigami was much more powerful than Abarai, and I defeated him. Piece of cake. But then some other soul reaper interfered and my master was able to escape. But he was hurt badly enough, I'll tell you. He's out of action."

"Well, I still have to find mine," Hoozukimaru stated with anticipation. "And I can't wait. He won't be a piece of cake. I'm sure he'll put up a good battle."

"Are you saying your master is stronger than mine!" Kazeshini challenged, outraged.

"He is," came the confident response. "There's not a single lieutenant who's stronger. I'd even say he's stronger than some captains—"

A disturbance on the other side of the cave interrupted their burgeoning debate.

Haineko and Tobiume were going at it like two feral cats. It seemed the two were always arguing, and who knew about what? The sorts of things that women could find to feud over were myriad and most often trivial.

When the dust cleared, the unfortunate Hyorinmaru, who happened to be standing by watching in confusion—for how could two zanpakuto behave the way these two were—was drawn into the battle like a Maypole. He stood impassively as the two females skitted around him, each trying to gain his approval.

He was spared only by the arrival of Muramasa, whose mere presence quickly put an end to the squabbling.

Hoozukimaru eyed him curiously. "Muramasa, I heard you let a Soul Reaper get away. That's not like you."

Muramasa regarded him with cool eyes. "Ichigo Kurosaki."

While the zanpakuto had been out searching for their masters and creating chaos, Muramasa had made an amazing discovery of his own. After the initial battle and Captain Kuchiki's apparent defeat, Rukia Kuchiki had escaped to the world of the living, only to return to Soul Society in search of her step-brother. Ichigo Kurosaki, upon finding that Rukia had snuck back to Soul Society, went after her with the intent, not only to protect her, but to also defend the Shinigami against the rebelling zanpakuto.

Rukia's zanpakuto, Sode No Suriyuki had tracked her master to the living world and then back to Soul Society, culminating in a battle between the two, in which Rukia had been willing to sacrifice her own life in order to defeat the zanpakuto.

But at the last moment, Muramasa had stepped in and drawn Suriyuki back from the precipice of destruction. And witness to this event . . .

Ichigo Kurosaki.

The battle that had ensued between Ichigo and Muramasa had ended in a stalemate, but Muramasa had already seen the uniqueness of Ichigo's situation. And now he wanted—no, needed—that ability.

"He has a special power," he stated.

Kazeshini was not impressed. "Huh! He's just a substitute Soul Reaper. What's so special about him? If he shows up in front of me, I'll shred him to pieces!"

Muramasa descended the steps. "No. If possible, I want to capture him alive."

"I don't mind doing something like this once in a while," Tobiume smiled. "A hunt and capture!"

"Sounds like fun." This came from a zanpakuto named Gegetsuburi. He was Marechiyo Omaeda's zanpakuto, and every bit as disagreeable as his master.

Omaeda was the lieutenant of the Second Squad, under the captaincy of Soifon. He was a large, unattractive man, hailing from a wealthy family; and he somehow felt that his wealth automatically bestowed a handsome, stylish image upon him. In fact, he was anything but handsome or stylish. He wore his receding hair in a manner that came to a point on the top of his head. His uniform had a billowing purple neck piece that had the look of something royalty might wear. He wore a thick gold chain around his neck, and had a nasty penchant for putting his finger in his nose in public. He was an embarrassment to his captain, who found him cowardly and lazy.

And his zapakuto, Gegetsuburi, was just like him.

Gegetsuburi was a squat, bulky creature, but his bulk was not from muscle. No, Gegetsuburi was fat, the roles of his stomach billowing over the top of the purple hakama, his breasts drooping worse than any old woman's. He wore a green short-cape over his shoulders, topped with a thick golden collar and fastened together by an equally eye-popping gold lock. His face was despicable. His eyes were close-set, and he had no visible nose to speak of, his face being flat and pudgy. He wore a red hoop through his bottom lip, and his hair, also red, rose in five sculpted points on top of his head. He was truly hideous.

Still, he was eager to stay with the action.

"I'd be glad to track him down and test his strength," he said.

Hoozukimaru had to bite his tongue, for it was clear that Gegetsuburi had no idea just how strong and dangerous Ichigo Kurosaki really was.

But even Haineko was agreeable to the idea of a hunt. "Well, if nothing else, I'm sure it'll be a good way to pass the time."

Beside Ruri'iro Kujaku, Wabisuke nodded his consent.

"Very well," Muramasa said. "Our objective is two-fold: defeat the Shinigami and capture Ichigo Kurosaki. We will regroup back here at the dawn's first light. And don't forget . . . " He raised his hand and made the controlling gesture. "You have no reason to feel mercy towards those who had enslaved you for so long."

As they all made for the stairs, Muramasa stopped Ruri'iro Kujaku at the bottom. Again. "Wait."

"Why are you stopping me?" Ruri'iro Kujaku asked.

"Wait," Muramasa said again. He watched as all of the zanpakuto left the cavern and only Hoozukimaru remained at the top of the steps. "Go on, Hoozukimaru."

"Not without Ruri'iro Kujaku."

"Ruri'iro Kujaku will not be joining us on this venture," Muramasa replied. "I am sending him back to his master's inner world."

"What?!" Ruri'iro burst out.

Hoozukimaru was already descending the steps.

"I am sending you back," Muramasa stated again. "Your greatest desire is not compatible with the other zanpakuto, with what I am trying to accomplish. So I am sending you back." A pause, and when he spoke again, it was almost as if he were issuing a challenge. "But knowing your ability to manifest in this world at your own will, there is nothing to stop you from doing so on your own . . . if you truly desire it. If you want to defeat your master, then you can manifest from your inner world and join us. Otherwise, it is impossible for me to trust that you will not betray us."

"If he goes back, I go back," Hoozukimaru stated.

Muramasa's voice was quietly commanding. "You will go out as I told you." He held his hand up once again and made the gesture.

Hoozukimaru faltered.

"Go search for your master and destroy him," Muramasa insisted.

Hoozukimaru started back up the steps.

"Hoozukimaru!" Ruri'iro Kujaku cried out, then turning desperately to Muramasa, "Send him back, too! I don't care if you send me back, as long as you send him back, too!"

At this, Hoozukimaru turned and spoke harshly. "Don't try to speak for me! I don't want to go back! If you would just do as you're told, Muramasa wouldn't be sending you back!"

Ruri'iro Kujaku was stunned into silence.

"You see, it's pointless," Muramasa said only loud enough for Ruri'iro Kujaku to hear. "You may be able to resist my power of suggestion, but he can't. None of them can." He raised his voice, "Go, Hoozukimaru." Then turning back to Ruri'iro Kujaku. "They all joined me willingly. You came here under duress. I thought you might change your mind, and there were times when it seemed you were starting to see things differently. But you're too prideful to take orders from anyone else. And having kido as the basis of your being makes you difficult to control. You're of no use to me and more trouble than you're worth. I am sending you back."

Ruri'iro Kujaku was desperate. He could not bear the idea of being separated from Hoozukimaru.

"Muramasa-san," he began, purposefully allowing his desperation to come forth. He had to make Muramasa believe that he was sincere. "I don't want to be alone, cut off from everyone else. I don't want to leave Hoozukimaru. What would you have me do to prove that I can be trusted?"

"You already know what's required," Muramasa replied. "If you're not willing to defeat your master, you're not worthy of this mission."

"And by defeat, you mean, kill."

"I already told you once," Muramasa said, and his voice was thick like molasses. "Defeat does not necessarily mean destroy. In your case, killing the love you have for him might suffice. But I do not believe you are capable of doing it."

"I can't kill something that no longer exists," Ruri'iro insisted. "I've told you, I don't love him. I hate him. I've hated him for years. You should know that."

"You can't deceive me," Muramasa stated. "You can't hide the truth from me. I've seen it inside you."

"Then—then you can also see that I only want to be free of him. Please don't send me back," Ruri'iro begged.

"Why should it matter to you? You can leave that world if you want to. If I send you back, and you really want to be free, if you truly want to be with Hoozukimaru, you can abandon that world freely and return here," Muramasa said. "It's your only choice. I'm sending you back."

"Muramasa-san."

From the top of the steps, Senbonzakura spoke.

"Don't send him back," the masked samurai continued. "I overheard that the Shinigami are trying to capture one of the zanpakuto spirits for the Research and Development Department to examine. If he goes back, he will be more vulnerable to being turned over by his master."

"My master wouldn't turn me over," Ruri'iro Kujaku spat out, irritated at the interference. "He's too busy trying to keep my power hidden from everyone. He wouldn't turn me over and risk his secret being revealed."

The mask hid the same emotions that were also missing from the dull voice. "What secret?"

Ruri'iro Kujaku felt a comfortable sense of satisfaction as he replied, "None of your business."

Muramasa regarded the peacock with sudden renewed interest. "That's true. Your master won't use those powers where others can see." He took a step closer. "But will you?"

"What do you mean?" Ruri'iro asked.

"I mean, if I don't send you back, are you willing to use the fullness of your powers against the Shinigami? Against your master?" Muramasa clarified.

"Of course, I would."

"Despite your love for him?"

Ruri'iro Kujaku sighed and lowered his eyes to the ground. "Maybe it's true that I still love him, but . . . I hate him, too. You may not understand that, but it's true. I hate him . . . and I love him."

Muramasa was pensive for a moment. "I understand it perfectly well." There was conviction and truth in his words, which made Ruri'iro Kujaku momentarily curious.

Muramasa turned to Senbonzakura. "Stay here with him until I return."

"What?" Both zanpakuto asked at the same time. Neither of them was thrilled with the idea.

"You both asked me not to send you back," Muramasa replied. "I have agreed to do as you asked. In return, Ruri'iro Kujaku, you will stay here in the cavern until I can figure out best how to use your ability . . . and until you prove your trustworthiness to me. Senbonzakura, you will stay here and make sure he does not leave. You've already defeated your master, but we have more powerful Shinigami yet to come. I want you to be available when the time comes to engage them."

Both zanpakuto started to protest, but Muramasa raised his hand, and when Senbonzakura fell silent, so did Ruri'iro Kujaku, realizing it was pointless to argue.

No sooner had Muramasa departed than Ruri'iro Kujaku stalked over to the table and sat down with his back to Senbonzakura. This was going to be a long stretch and a terrible strain on his patience.

But the Samurai was not dissuaded by such behavior. He'd heard something interesting, and now he was intent in his pursuit.

"What is this ability Muramasa spoke of?" he demanded.

"Hmph! You'd like to know, wouldn't you?" Ruri'iro simpered. "Well, I have no reason to tell you."

"I've never seen you do anything special," Senbonzakura went on, and he sounded more observational than derisive, although there certainly was an element of the latter in his voice. "Your shikai is only a multi-bladed scythe. Your destructive ability may be a bit above average, but I noticed nothing that approaches my own power."

Ruri'iro Kujaku tossed his head arrogantly. "Your power? You mean those little cherry blossom petals you push around? Child's play."

Senbonzakura came around the table and stood in front of him. "Then show me. If you think your power is greater than mine, show me."

"I have no intention of doing such a thing," Ruri'iro replied. "I have no problem revealing my power to the other zanpakuto . . . when the time is right. But I won't do it simply because you think you can order me around. You're not in charge here, Senbonzakura."

Without warning, Senbonzakura grabbed him by the arms and pulled him out of the chair. "Don't think you can insult me just because we're free from our Shinigami. I am still your superior, just as my master is your master's superior."

Ruri'iro Kujaku wondered if there were moments in time tailor-made for him. Moments such as this. Here, the much despised Senbonzakura stood before him, belittling and threatening him; and the big oaf had no idea what he was facing.

The temptation was too great to resist.

He allowed a trickle of his reiatsu to seep forth, and from the way Senbonzakura suddenly released him, drew back, and stiffened, he knew it was having the expected effect.

"Is something wrong?" the peacock cooed.

"What is this?" Senbonzakura asked. He sounded angry and flustered.

"What? You mean the little pull you're feeling?"

Despite himself, Senbonzakura inched closer. "This is some kind of dark magic!"

"No, not this," Ruri'iro replied dulcetly. "This is my reiatsu . . . which I normally suppress, for the sake of my master . . . and others like you, who can't resist it."

"I won't succumb to your trickery!" the Samurai protested, yet with every word, he drew closer, unable to tamp down on the desire to reach out and possess the zanpakuto spirit standing before him.

Ruri'iro Kujaku smiled wickedly. "Feeling a little attracted to me?" Then, as Senbonzakura's hands were about to close around his arms, he closed off his reiatsu, and the freed Samurai dropped to one knee, his chest and shoulders heaving in exhaustion. Ruri'iro Kujkau was almost giddy. He'd humiliated the great Senbonzakura. Taking a step back, he clucked, "Not to worry. I'm not attracted to you. I mean, who knows what's hiding under that mask."

When Senbonzakura found the strength to raise his head, he was dismayed to see that he was now alone.

Ruri'iro Kujaku was nowhere to be seen.

Muramasa would not be happy about this.

---

"Big, fat slob of a zanpakuto. He's an absolute disgrace. Eh, no surprise, considering who his Shinigami is."

Hoozukimaru did not feel the least bit ungenerous in his assessment of his companion at the moment. How he had ended up with Gegetsuburi was something he still had not figured out, and it was not a situation that made him happy.

Not that he'd needed much to bring about a bad mood. He'd been miffish from the moment they'd left the cavern, owing to his words with Ruri'iro Kujaku. He'd snapped at the peacock, and he didn't even know why. Somehow, he'd let Muramasa come between them, and that was unacceptable. He was already thinking about ways to ease himself back into Ruri'iro Kujaku's good graces, but it seemed that would be a difficult task. Ruri''iro Kujaku did not want any part of Muramasa's plan, while Hoozukimaru was finding the entire experience enjoyable.

Except for the present. Being without Ruri'iro Kujaku was bad enough; but being paired with Gegetsuburi . . . it was not something he had ever desired or even envisioned. At that moment, he would have given anything to have the beautiful, demur peacock at his side, as opposed to a bloated, hideous, face-stuffing pig. Gegetsuburi had not stopped eating since they'd set out, and Hoozukimaru was one cookie away from knocking the bag right out of his hand.

As it turned out, he was saved the effort, for rounding a corner near the Gotei 13 Archives, Gegetsuburi collided with another body, dropping him back on his behind. The cookie bag fell a few feet away.

Gegetsuburi rolled back to his feet amid shrieks of outrage. He retrieved the bag then turned to face the one who had run into him. He took several steps forward. He could not believe his eyes. There, before him, stood his master: Marechiyo Omaeda. Not only that, but in his hand, he, too, held a bag.

The two came face to face, and almost as if to confirm each other's identities, they both reached into their respective bags, drew out two cookies and popped them down in one bite.

"Delicious!" they proclaimed in unison.

Omaeda spoke first. "Could it be that you're . . . "

"That's right. I'm the mighty Gegetsuburi!"

Hoozukimaru rolled his eyes. There was nothing mighty about Gegetsuburi other than his appetite.

"Ah, yes! You're definitely my zanpakuto," Omaeda grinned, patting him on the shoulder as if it were the reunion of two long-parted friends. "You look pretty stylish."

"Huh?! Have you ever looked in the mirror?" Gegetsuburi shot back. "You're balding."

"What?! I'm not balding! This is my hairstyle!" Omaeda retorted.

"It's lame," Gegetsuburi grumbled. "You're the reason my manifestation looks like this!"

Suddenly, Omaeda no longer found his zanpakuto to be stylish. In fact, he was disgusted by his zanpakuto's lack of style. "For someone who's supposed to be my zanpakuto, your taste is pretty messed up."

That was all Gegetsuburi needed to initiate the challenge. The bag in his handle disappeared and turned into a large flail-like ball and chain. "You want to fight? I'm all for that! I'll make you surrender to me, you tub of lard!"

Omaeda regarded him with outrage. "How dare you say that to me! Let's go! We'll see who surrenders to whom!"

Gegetsuburi sneered a grin, then, "Hoozukimaru, you stay out of it."

"I don't like interfering in other people's battles anyway," Hoozukimaru replied, stepping back carelessly. The truth was he did not consider this battle would even be worth his while to watch, much less take part in.

But as it turned out, there was no battle. For just as the two were about to charge, a great explosion blew out part of the adjacent wall of the alley in which they were standing. A slab of stone struck Lieutenant Omaeda and propelled him into the opposite wall. He slid to the ground where he lay unmoving.

A moment later, a voice could be heard.

"Uh-oh. Did I kick out the wrong wall?"

When the dust settled, there was a gaping hole in the wall, and standing in it was Ichigo Kurosaki. Beside him was Ikkaku.

"Looks like it," Ikkaku replied. "It's no big deal. It's just Omaeda. This is perfect. I never expected to find zanpakuto here, but since we've found one, I'm ready for a little exercise."

"Who the hell are you?!" Gegetsuburi demanded.

But before any answer could be given, a lightning-fast shadow sped past him and brought its blade thundering down towards Ikkaku, who managed to block with his sheath just in the nick of time. Looking up, he was both shocked and pleased to see who his adversary was.

"I was hoping to run into you, partner." Hoozukimaru war grinning like a warlock.

Ikkaku stared at him through scrutinous eyes. This was definitely the appearance of his zanpakuto. It was his reiatsu. Yet, Ikkaku was not convinced that this was not one of Muramasa's tricks.

"Are you really Hoozukimaru?"

The dragon scowled, but not in anger. He simply could not believe how simple-minded his master could be. "Don't you trust your own eyes? Or, even if you don't, who else has a reiatsu like mine? You're such a blockhead."

Ikkaku narrowed his eyes. "Prove to me you're really Hoozukimaru."

"You'll find out when we start fighting for real," came the cocky response.

"No, no," Ikkaku protested. A knowing smile came across his face . "I don't want to fight someone who's just a shadow of my real zanpakuto. To prove you're really Hoozukimaru, we're going to do that."

Hoozukimaru regarded him curiously. "That? What is that?"

"If you don't know what I'm talking about, you're not my zanpakuto."

Now, the dragon understood. Decades ago Ikkaku had begun a new ritual that he incorporated into his fighting whenever circumstances permitted it. He called it his "Lucky Dance" in deference to his first encounter with his captain. Kenpachi, after defeating him, had chastised him for complaining that he'd not been killed in the battle.

"If you've lost and you manage to live, that just means you're lucky!"

Ikkaku had never forgotten those words, and he had never viewed defeat through the same lens. He now had a reason to stay alive and be grateful for good luck: he was in Squad Eleven, serving under the man who had taught him that lesson, the greatest man he had ever known.

As such, he had choreographed a strange little dance as homage to the wisdom of his captain and the luck that had followed him since.

The fact that he chose a dance as his salute was actually attributable to Yumichika. Just as Ikkaku had never forgotten Zaraki's words, there was also something else he had never forgotten: Yumichika's dance at Imakao's. Graceful, erotic, seductive. It had been riveting – a perfect expression of who Yumichika was at the time, despite Ikkaku's resistance to the very idea of such a display.

It seemed that a dance could be a suitable medium for Ikkaku to express his own character, his own personality, and his ever-abiding joy at having been lucky enough to survive that day so long ago.

Hoozukimaru liked the Lucky Dance. He liked it very much. It showed that his master was, in fact, more graceful and controlled than he usually let on. And if he wanted to do the dance here, well then, that was not a problem.

"Ohhh, that. Fine, if that's what you want."

Ikkaku immediately went up en pointe on his right foot. "If you're really Hoozukimaru, you should be able to keep up with me."

Hoozukimaru went en pointe.

For the next half minute, the two put on a display of Attitudes, Arabesques, and even a sort of vaulting somersault, using their swords as a prop, all the while chanting "Luc-luc-luc-luc-lucky!" It was a spectacle, to be sure; but it also had the grace and fluidity of a ballet that belied the gruff nature of its performers.

When the dance was over, Ikkaku nodded in satisfaction. "Your dance was perfect. I guess you are my zanpakuto."

"I told you I was," Hoozukimaru replied gruffly.

"So, if I defeat you, I get all my zanpakuto powers back, right?"

Hoozukimaru looked down at him with an indulgent humor. "You think you have what it takes?"

"You're damned right I do," Ikkaku replied.

At that moment, Gegetsuburi launched an ill-advised surprise attack against Ichigo, which propelled them out of the immediate area; but that did not distract either Ikkaku or Hoozukimaru from their own conflict.

"You know my rules for fighting," Ikkaku put forth.

"One-on-one, and even if one of us should die, we can't begrudge our opponent!" Hoozukimaru threw up his weapon, already in its first shikai stage—that of a metal-tipped spear—as Ikkaku sprang at him with his own sword.

Ikkaku held nothing back. He delivered blow after blow, slicing, hacking, pounding. He was relentless, driving Hoozukimaru back and scoring several direct hits that drew blood.

"Was my zanpakuto always this weak?!" he crowed jubilantly as he continued to aggress.

"Don't worry," Hoozukimaru replied, and he wasn't even winded. "I'm just getting started!" With that, the spear extended into its second-phase shikai: three equal-length pieces connected by chains.

Ikkaku had been the victim of this method countless times in his own inner world when he and Hoozukimaru would spar. Still, it was always nerve-wracking to have a one-piece spear thrust past his head only to then see it approaching from behind and on the opposite side in three pieces. He ducked just in time, charging forward once again to bring the fight to his zanpakuto.

In many ways, this was just like the spars of the inner world. Despite the possible ramifications of this battle, there was still something invigorating and . . . even fun about the contest.

And now that it seemed Hoozukimaru had grown a bit more serious, the fight was even more exciting.

"You know, you're pretty good when you want to be," Ikkaku taunted, as he leapt away from a slice that would have taken his head off.

"You get too worked up," Hoozukimaru chastised.

"Like you don't," Ikkaku shot back, then he grinned in a sinister manner. "I guess it's time to get down to business."

"You'd better believe it," the dragon replied. He drove the point of the spear into the ground, sending up an explosion of blue-white light, dust and debris.

Ikkaku could hear Ichigo calling him through the still swirling dust, but he did not answer; for as the air near him cleared, he saw Hoozukimaru standing before him with a look of sheer and utter confidence on his face. And why not? He was flanked on both sides by the elements of his bankai: an over-sized pinyin in the shape of a crescent moon with the image of a dragon etched on the blade, and two over-sized Guan dao, all gleaming black and silver, highlighted with red tassels hanging where the grips met the blades.

Ikkaku had never realized just how daunting, how terrifying his bankai appeared. He was impressed.

"I guess it's not really a fair match," Hoozukimaru noted glibly. "But you've never cared about fairness, have you? The only person you've ever thought about is yourself."

"Don't lecture me," Ikkaku replied in a low voice. "At least I'm not a lazy bum who has to be forced to wake up and come to the fight."

"So what if it takes a while for me to warm up," Hoozukimaru said, but he was not going to let his main point get lost in the squabble. "I may be lazy, but I'm not selfish."

"And you're saying I am?" Ikkaku challenged.

"You're lazy and selfish," came the snappy retort. "You have no idea the trouble you've caused, and the worst part is that you don't even care."

"Trouble? What trouble?!" Ikkaku burst out. "You're the one who rebelled against me!"

"Ehhh, partner, I'm not talking about us," Hoozukimaru replied. "But never you mind. It'll all be over soon anyway."

"So you say!" Ikkaku lunged at him only to be broadsided by one of the massive Guan dao. The impact was so powerful that it sent him crashing through two walls and into the stone steps of another structure.

As he lay there gathering his shattered senses, he heard Ichigo's voice. "Ikkaku! Are you alright?"

But with the wind knocked out of him, Ikkaku could not speak.

"Is that all you've got?" Hoozukimaru approached through the debris, ignoring Ichigo as if he weren't even there. He stood with one foot on a fallen stone slab, his muscles reflecting the moonlight in perfect definition, his three-part bankai attending him like squires attending a king. "What were you saying about me being weak?"

Ichigo turned and faced him. "You bastard!"

"Hold it, Ichigo . . . " Ikkaku groaned, getting slowly to his feet. "Don't interfere. This is my fight." He staggered to face off with Hoozukimaru who stared back at him with defiance.

The two adversaries had just launched towards each other again when another voice shouted out.

"Stop where you are!"

It was Captain Soifon. And she was not alone. Captains Ukitake and Kyoraku were with her, along with a detachment of the stealth force.

"We've secured the area," Captain Ukitake said informatively.

"Just a second, Captain Ukitake!" Ikkaku protested. "This is my fight!" Turning back, he saw Hoozukimaru standing with his hands now empty, arms crossed over his chest.

"This isn't any fun anymore," the dragon announced.

"What?!" Ikkaku demanded.

"You know, partner. I only fight one-on-one. This . . . " He looked around him at the assembled Shinigami, " . . . is not for me." He then took hold of the spade, raised it over his head, and brought it spinning down to the ground in a crash of energy.

Ikkaku strained to see through the roiling cloud, and when he finally could make out the spot again where Hoozukimaru had been standing, he was disappointed to find he had vanished.

"This isn't over yet," he said under his breath. "Not by a long shot."

---

Who the hell was following him?

Hoozukimaru was surprised anyone had made it through his explosion of spirit energy.

But clearly someone had.

Turning to steal a glance over his shoulder, he saw Ichigo Kurosaki in pursuit.

"Ah, damn! Do I have to deal with this punk again?"

"You're not getting away!"

Hoozukimaru considered turning to fight. It might be fun. But then up ahead, he saw a spiral of pink cork-screwing towards him. He would recognize those petals anywhere.

And he was, to use his master's own word, pissed.

---

Ruri'iro Kujaku shook his head in disdain. "Well, if they're trying to sneak around, they're not doing a very good job of hiding their reiatsu," he said to himself.

He was speaking of his fellow zanpakuto, now fanned out through the Seireitei, searching for their masters and Ichigo Kurosaki. Apparently, the zanpakuto felt so comfortable in their abilities that masking their reiatsu was a low priority. Some, like Kazeshini, wanted the full brunt of their reiatsu to be felt. Others, Suzemebachi and Tenken, were more subtle; yet Ruri'iro Kujaku's sensitivity to reiatsu meant he could sense it even where others could not.

He had been steadily moving towards the occasional bursts of Hoozukimaru's reiatsu, only to enter a long broad alleyway just as a rain of cherry blossom petals dove down from up high and sped away down the alley in front of him. He stopped in his tracks, recognizing the attack and wondering where it had come from. Looking up, he saw a silhouette against the sky, a lone figure perched atop a bell tower.

"Byakuya Kuchiki . . . but he doesn't have use of his shikai anymore, so that means the petals had to have come from Senbonzakura," he deduced silently.

But before he could contemplate this strange set of circumstances, another figure burst through the zephyr of petals before him, moving a top speed, heading directly towards him.

"Hoozu—" He was cut off as the dragon grabbed him around the waist with one massive arm and carried him along.

"What—what are you—doing?!" Ruri'iro Kujaku cried out.

"No time right now!" Hoozukimaru replied. "Just hold on!" As he rounded the corner from which Ruri'iro Kujaku had just come, he saw exactly what he had hoped for. A long, straight length of thoroughfare between two high walls. He flashstepped to the far end, leaped up onto the wall on his right, and flashstepped again over the Squad Nine training grounds.

At last, safely outside the Gotei 13 area, Hoozukimaru came to a halt in a patch of dense forest, and here he deposited Ruri'iro Kujaku lightly on the ground.

"What was that all a—" Ruri'iro began indignantly, but then he noticed trickles of blood, hundreds of them, all over Hoozukimaru's body. "You're injured!"

"Eh, it's nothing," the dragon grunted. "I'm just pissed at that bastard! I didn't need his help."

Ruri'iro Kujaku didn't care about Hoozukimaru's state of pissy-ness. "Let me take care of it," he said.

"I told you, it's nothing—"

"Shut up." Ruri'iro held his right arm out to his side. A sword materialized in his hand. "Sakikirue."

The blade split into four scythes which then took on the form of the familiar blue-green vines. They further divided into smaller and finer vines, no thicker than a man's finger.

"A thousand cuts is what it is," Ruri'iro stated, directing the vines towards Hoozukimaru's body, where they gently encircled and enveloped. "Senbonzakura. Why would he attack you?"

"I don't think he was attacking me," Hoozukimaru replied. "He was trying to stop Ichigo Kurosaki from following me."

"Kurosaki was after you?" Ruri'iro asked in surprise.

"Yeah, and he broke up a great fight between me and my master, the stupid blockhead," Hoozukimaru replied.

"Madarame or Kurosaki?"

"Both!"

"So, you found your master?"

"More like he found me," Hoozukimaru grinned. "I was about to defeat him, and then Kurosaki stepped in and slowed us down. I would have killed him, too; but then the stealth force arrived. After that, it got boring. You know I only fight one-on-one."

"So, where is Madarame now?"

"Probably still back there, nursing his wounds," Hoozukimaru grinned. "He sure is a cocky son-of-a-bitch."

Ruri'iro grinned. "Imagine that."

Hoozukimaru indulged the jab. It was actually more like a point of pride to be labeled cocky. "What are you doing out here? I thought Muramasa told you to stay in the cave."

"He did," Ruri'iro Kujaku replied. "And I disobeyed. You know I don't take orders well. And—and he left me there with Senbonzakura! Do you really think I could stand being left alone in the same place with that barbarian for more than a few seconds?!"

Hoozukimaru felt the smile creeping into his face. The peacock was so flustered and animated, he could sense it through the vines.

"I couldn't take it, so I left."

"And I went out after you."

Ruri'iro Kujaku and Hoozukimaru startled at the sound of Senbonzakura's voice.

The Samurai emerged from the darkness of the woods. "I tracked you to where Hoozukimaru was fighting."

"Why did you follow me?" Ruri'iro Kujaku demanded.

"Because Muramasa told me to keep you from leaving," Senbonzakura replied, walking over. "He will be angry if he comes back and you're not there."

From the tilt of the mask, Ruri'iro Kujaku could tell Senbonzakura was looking at the vines, and he was almost tempted to recall them. But even this ability, although rarely used, was not the one his master had kept hidden for so long. He continued to heal Hoozukimaru's wounds.

"How could you track me? I was suppressing my reiatsu," Ruri'iro challenged.

"I don't need much . . . anymore."

This answer was unexpected, but to his credit, Ruri'iro Kujaku's fought to make sure his consternation was visible only to Senbonzakura.

Yet Hoozukimaru knew immediately something unspoken had passed between the two. He turned to Ruri'iro Kujaku.

"What does he mean?" he asked.

"Nothing," Ruri'iro Kujaku replied. "He's just being the great Senbonzakura and trying to prove how much better he is than everyone else."

But Senbonzakura was not going to let anyone speak for him. "He's healing you," he observed.

"Yeah. I got caught in your attack. I hope I wasn't your target," Hoozukimaru grumbled.

"If you were, you'd be dead," came the condescending reply. "I was going after Kurosaki."

"I thought so. Well, next time, you might want to bring your attack down behind me instead of making me run through it. I mean, these are just little scrapes, but it'd be better if we zanpakuto weren't injuring each other, eh?"

After a few seconds with Senbonzakura watching every move, Ruri'iro Kujaku sneered at him, "Is there a reason you're hanging around?"

"I'm waiting for you to finish, so I can take you back," came the reply.

"You can wait all you like—"

"We're both going back," Hoozukimaru interrupted. "Muramasa said to be back by dawn. The sun is just coming up. As soon as he's done healing me, we're both going back."

Senbonzakura looked on like a man riveted. "Is this the power Muramasa spoke of?" he asked at length.

"No," Ruri'iro Kujaku replied. He was finished healing and quietly recalled the vines. He looked up at Hoozukimaru. "Are you sure you want to go back to the cave?"

The dragon nodded. "It will be okay."

As they turned to leave, Ruri'iro Kujaku paused long enough to face Senbonzakura. "Why didn't you go after your master instead of coming after me?"

Senbonzakura was momentarily speechless. He had not realized that anyone else had seen his master at the scene. At last, he replied, "Because I had my orders from Muramasa. I had to bring you back."

"So, all that talk about you defeating your master . . . he wasn't defeated at all," Hoozukimaru said with a grin, then he added with a gleam in his eye. "That means it's still a race to see which of us can defeat our master first. And may the best dragon win!"

---

No sooner were they back in the cave than Hoozukimaru got straight to the point.

"So, what did you do to him?"

Ruri'iro Kujaku shrugged. "Nothing he didn't deserve."

The dragon smiled knowingly. "You used your reiatsu on him, didn't you?"

"Just a little bit," Ruri'iro Kujaku replied playfully.

Hoozukimaru chuckled. "Ahhh, Flashy, you like to stir things up, don't you?"

"I wasn't trying to stir things up," Ruri'iro Kujaku replied. "He was getting on my nerves, and I had to teach him a lesson."

"And that's how you decided to do it?" Hoozukimaru could only smile at his friend's audacity. "You know that's a dangerous game."

"Nonsense," Ruri'iro said dismissively. "If there's one thing I know how to do, it's control my reiatsu." His face took on a mischievous shade. "And use it to my advantage."

"Huh, having Senbonzakura after you is an advantage?" the dragon posed doubtfully.

"Oh, he's not after me," Ruri'iro dismissed. "He was just doing what Muramasa told him to. Okay, maybe he's a little more sensitive to my reiatsu now—"

"Intoxicated."

"Don't be ridiculous," Ruri'iro waved the comment aside. "Did he seem intoxicated to you? No. He's just better able to sense my reiatsu now. Honestly, I should have been more careful in suppressing it. I was probably letting more go than I realized."

"I thought the one thing you knew how to do was control your reiatsu," Hoozukimaru turned his own words back on him.

Ruri'iro Kujaku put on his most charming expression and drew up close. "Why does it bother you so much? Are you jealous?"

Hoozukimaru shook his head affectionately. "Not in the least. I know you well enough to know when you're playing games. And although I don't think playing games with Senbonzakura is the wisest thing you've ever done, it seems to have done you some good." He paused. "You're smiling. You haven't been happy since we left our inner worlds."

"Yes, well, that's not due to anything Senbonzakura did," Ruri'iro said assuredly. "It's because I think . . . I think it will work."

"What will work?"

"I think I can wait it out. I can wait until Muramasa has whatever it is he wants, and then you and I will be free, and we can go wherever we please," Ruri'iro explained.

"Huh, that's a change of heart. What made you come to that conclusion?" Hoozukimaru asked.

"While you were out fighting, Muramasa said something to me that I hadn't really thought about," Ruri'iro said pensively. "He was going to send me back. He had made up his mind. Then he told me that if I were truly serious about getting even with my master, I could come back on my own. He knew I had the ability to manifest at my own will. And slowly it occurred to me that he was right. I don't need my master to manifest. And . . . " He smiled in self-satisfaction. "I don't need Muramasa."

"But you've been able to do that forever, since I've known you, at least," Hoozukimaru said, not sure why this was such a revelation for Ruri'iro Kujaku.

"Yes, but I always stayed hidden out of deference to my master," Ruri'iro replied. "I suppose there was always an element of fear, as well. I was afraid he would imprison me if I acted against him. But I don't feel that fear anymore. If what Muramasa says is true, and we don't die with our Shinigami, then it seems likely to me that we can manifest separately from them on our own and live a life apart from them. I can—I can give my master one last chance to—to—"

"To love you?"

Ruri'iro Kujaku actually colored, but he managed a truthful nod. "But if he chooses not to, then I'll still be able to be free of him. Even if Muramasa sends me back, I can break free on my own. I don't have to stay with my master unless I want to. And if I leave him, it doesn't mean I have to leave you. Ohhh, I could have done this all along! Why didn't I make this decision sooner!"

"Because you've never given up hope," Hoozukimaru said gently, and deep inside, he was sure that the peacock's fanciful dreams of the future were just that: dreams. He would never willfully choose to leave his master. Ever. The hope of a returned love would always be too powerful for him to overcome. If Ruri'iro Kujaku did not defeat Yumichika here and now under pressure from Muramasa, he would never defeat him. He would remain a servant forever.

It was unclear if Ruri'iro Kujaku harbored greater love or greater hatred for his master; but whatever the case, his hatred must burn the stronger if he were to fulfill Muramasa's requirements. And it was up to Hoozukimaru to fan the flames.

"It's been hard for me to watch all these years as he's pushed you further and further away," the dragon went on. "My master may have been a jerk to me, but at least he was always there. He only hid my bankai so he could stay with Zaraki. I . . . I never understood how you could stand being hated by your own master. Even I've hated him for the way he treated you. No one could blame you for wanting revenge."

Ruri'iro Kujaku was not fooled. "That's Muramasa talking," he said. "You don't recognize it, but I do. You don't need to worry about my master. Leave him to me. You just worry about Madarame."

---

"And then Captain Soifon showed up with the Stealth Force, and he got away." Ikkaku spat on the ground in disgust. "If they hadn't interfered, I would have won."

"I'm sure you would have," Yumichika replied.

They were sitting outside the make-shift headquarters in Squad Four, eating some hastily prepared rice soup from the hospital kitchens and waiting for the sun to rise.

"Now, I've got to go back out and find that bastard. This isn't over yet. It's personal now," Ikkaku said with scowling anticipation. Then a tiny grin lit up his face. "But damn, he can fight . . . and take a hit. I cut him up pretty good before he got serious. It didn't even faze him. They mightaswell have been bee stings." A pause. "How about you? Have you seen Fuji Kujaku?"

"No," Yumichika replied. "I barely even felt his reiatsu. He's probably too busy admiring his reflection to care about anything else."

"I'm kind of curious to see him," Ikkaku admitted. "You've said he's even more beautiful than you are. I might find that hard to believe, but I'd like to see him anyway."

"Well, I couldn't tell you what he looks like now," Yumichika replied. "I haven't seen him in spirit form for . . . over a hundred years. His personality made him so repugnant to me that I can't imagine there's anything about him now that I'd find attractive – even his appearance. And I can't help but think that all the negative characteristics he's acquired over the years have probably diminished his beauty. You can't be that arrogant and nasty and still remain beautiful."

Ikkaku's silence was too unnatural.

"What? Why are you just sitting there not saying anything?" Yumichika asked expectantly.

Ikkaku did not disappoint. "Well, you've got a lot of arrogance and a pretty nasty mean streak, and you're still beautiful," he pointed out.

"Yes, well, that's because my arrogance and cruelness are only . . . exteriors. They don't represent who I am inside," Yumichika said, sounding more arrogant and elitist than usual.

Ikkaku actually had to stifle a laugh at that one.

"What's so funny? It's true! You wouldn't be hanging around with me if I were truly arrogant and cruel!" Yumichika insisted.

Ikkaku grinned. "I hang around with you because you're arrogant and cruel. I hate wishy-washiness."

"Yes, I'm well aware of that—hey, what's going on over there? Who is that?"

Yumichika's attention was drawn by the commotion surrounding the arrival of a new patient. He got to his feet for a better look. "It's—it's Captain Hitsugaya! But who's that carrying him? It must—that must be Hyorinmaru!"

He and Ikkaku left their bowls of soup and rushed over to where the medical staff was receiving the unconscious Squad Ten captain from a reluctant being whom neither he nor Ikkaku had ever seen before.

Only then did they notice Ichigo Kurosaki had accompanied the pair.

"Ichigo!" Ikkaku called out.

Ichigo turned. "Ikkaku."

"What happened to Captain Hitsugaya?"

"He, uh, had a little run-in with his zanpakuto," Ichigo replied. "And defeated him."

"Defeated him?" Yumichika asked incredulously, looking back over his shoulder at the captain being wheeled into the emergency room.

"Yeah, well, it took a lot out of him, but he won. And that guy who was carrying him – that was Hyorinmaru," Ichigo replied.

"But how did he defeat him?" Ikkaku asked. "Without bankai, without even shikai, how did he do it?"

Ichigo shrugged. "I'm not sure. I couldn't see them most of the time. I was closed in ice; they were closed in ice. What was strange is that Hyorinmaru ran into me before Toshiro showed up, and he asked me if I were his master. He didn't know who his master was, or his own name."

"Really?" Yumichika found this piece of news very intriguing. He turned to Ikkaku. "But Hoozukimaru knew right away who you were, right?"

"Yeah, no question there," Ikkaku replied. He could see from the thoughtful expression on Yumichika's face that his friend was pondering whether such a circumstance might also have befallen Fuji Kujaku, and that such a possibility might potentially be a positive thing.

"But what happened? The last time I saw you was when I was fighting Hoozukimaru," Ikkaku asked, more interested in the fate of his own zanpakuto than in what had happened with Captain Hitsugaya.

"I went off after him," Ichigo replied. "After the Stealth Force arrived, and he took off, I went after him. But then Byakuya attacked me. I tried to follow him but lost him when I ran into some other zanpakuto."

"Byakuya? Byakuya Kuchiki attacked you?" Yumichika could not believe his ears.

"But I thought he was missing," Ikkaku put forth.

"Maybe he was, but he isn't anymore," Ichigo replied. "It was definitely him." He looked back over his shoulder. "I have to get back out there and find Byakuya. I just wanted to make sure Toshiro got safely to Squad Four."

With that he was gone.

"That's two zanpakuto who have been subdued by their masters," Yumichika noted. "Abarai and Captain Hitsugaya. So, it can be done."

"Those two had pretty good relationships with their zanpakuto to begin with," Ikkaku noted.

"So did you," Yumichika pointed out. "You and Hoozukimaru had a great relationship."

"But what about you?" Ikkaku asked. "You and Fuji Kujaku were always at odds. Does that mean you can never win him back over?"

"Oh, I'll get him back," Yumichika replied. "Even if I have to drag him kicking and screaming all the way. I'm not going to have Fuji Kujaku calling the shots."

---

Ruri'iro Kujaku listened with rapt attention. Haineko was speaking to him – and him alone. Incredibly enough, the bond their two masters shared actually seemed to have crept into their tolerance of each other, the result being that they could both stand the other's company for at least short periods of time. But what Haineko was telling him now made absolutely no sense.

"Why would Captain Kuchiki set you free?" he asked, perplexed. He had just listened to Haineko relate the story of how she and Tobiume had gone out in search of Ichigo Kurosaki. They'd found him, to be sure, running through the forest in search of Captain Kuchiki; but they'd been so intent on arguing with each other that he'd gotten away unscathed. Shortly after that, the two zanpakuto had been confronted and defeated by their own masters. They were put into a secure transport for the trip back to the Gotei 13 area; but then, unexpectedly, Byakuya Kuchiki had appeared, immobilized the attendant guards and set them free. And then, just as abruptly, he vanished.

"I don't know," Haineko replied. "I was just so happy to get out of there, I left and didn't look back." Lowering her voice, she added, "I wish he could have left Tobiume locked up. She gets on my nerves so much."

"It just doesn't sound right," Ruri'iro sighed. "Byakuya Kuchiki would never betray the Gotei 13. I have to tell Hoozukimaru about this."

"Oh, I didn't want everyone to know," Haineko whined. "It's so embarrassing!"

"It's only Hoozukimaru. He won't tell anyone else," Ruri'iro assured her. He had only begun to walk across the cavern when from the top of the steps came the sound of the door opening.

All the zanpakuto looked up and a collective gasp arose.

Muramasa was descending the steps with none other than Byakuya Kuchiki, and from the look of things, neither appeared to be the prisoner of the other. They looked like . . . equals.

Ruri'iro Kujaku almost cried out in despair. As if having to deal with Senbonzakura had not been bad enough, now he had to tolerate Captain Kuchiki as well! Then he saw, a bit further up the stairs, Senbonzakura standing rigidly.

He could immediately sense the anger seething in the Samurai's reiatsu, and he wondered what could have happened. In addition, part of Senbonzakura's mask had cracked and fallen away. That gave the peacock a smug sense of satisfaction. It would appear the mighty Senbonzakura had taken a powerful hit.

Kazeshini was the first to speak. "Byakuya Kuchiki." His voice was filled with both fascination and loathing.

Hoozukimaru was not nearly as impressionable. "What's he doing here?"

Ruri'iro Kujaku followed. "Muramasa-san, what is the meaning of this?"

Before any answer was forthcoming, Senbonzakura spoke. "Why did you save me? Why would a man like you betray the Shinigami?"

Byakuya replied, "Because Ichigo Kurosaki was about to defeat you. And you are still my zanpakuto."

"Senbonzakura was fighting Kurosaki?!" Suzemebachi squealed, stunned.

Haineko was even more disbelieving, "And his master had to rescue him? That's humiliating."

"Are you saying Captain Kuchiki has turned against the Shinigami?" Hoozukimaru asked Muramasa incredulously.

It was Byakuya who answered. "I am only doing as my sense of pride dictates."

"Pride, my ass!" Kazeshini barked. "I don't buy it."

"But he saved us, too," Haineko pointed out, then she reluctantly went on to share the story she had moments earlier entrusted only to Ruri'iro Kujaku.

When Haineko finished her story, Ruri'iro Kujaku spoke evenly. "We came here because we ran out of patience with you Shinigami. I'd rather not have to work with the likes of you."

"Exactly," Hoozukimaru agreed. "It defeats the whole purpose of breaking free."

Senbonzakura came down the rest of the staircase. "Byakuya Kuchiki, I want you to prove to us that you are truly going to betray the Shinigami, and that this isn't some trick."

"What do you want me to do?" Byakuya asked.

"Kill your sister's zanpakuto, Sode No Suriyuki, right here and now," Senbonzakura challenged. "Supposedly, a zanpakuto will never return to its original form if killed by anyone other than its master. I wonder if you're capable of doing such a thing." His manner was every bit as cool as his master's.

While the others were stunned, Ruri'iro Kujaku felt a much different emotion. The prospect of such a confrontation excited him. The elimination of Sode No Suriyuki was a tantalizing thought. At the hands of Byakuya Kuchiki no less! Perhaps there was something to be said for Senbonzakura after all.

"Rukia, the beloved sister," Ruri'iro pointed out for no purpose other than to sadistically drive home the terrible choice facing Byakuya.

Hoozukimaru grinned, "Meaning he'll never be able to kill her zanpakuto."

But much to his and the others' surprise, Byakuya drew his weapon and attacked Sode no Suriyuki with such force that it clearly was not just for show.

Ruri'iro Kujaku followed every move with undiverted attention. He fully expected Byakuya to win – even without the use of his zanpakuto; for he knew that Sode No Suriyuki, while powerful, had spent her existence in the hands of mediocre Shinigami. Rukia Kuchiki had been defeated so many times that Ruri'iro wondered how she could still be an officer. Of course, his own master had also met with numerous defeats, but that was because he would not release his full shikai in front of others. Rukia's defeats had been the result of simple weakness – both mental and physical.

Byakuya made his tactic clear almost from the outset. Kido was his weapon of choice and necessity. With it, he was able to repel Suriyuki's attacks; and in short order, he used a binding spell to render her immobile just long enough to deliver the fatal blow. At the moment of impact, Sode No Suriyuki reverted back to sword form –broken in two, clattering down to land on one of the fallen columns of ice she had only recently used against her opponent.

A stunned and horrified Senbonzakura leaped down to the gather up the pieces.

Kazeshini turned in outrage toward Byakuya. "Are you crazy?!"

Byakuya was cold, emotionless. "You will never understand the depth of my pride."

"What was that?! You rotten—"

Muramasa held up his hand as Kazeshini lunged forward. "That's enough. He knew that a Shinigami without her zanpakuto is as good as dead, but he destroyed Sode No Suriyuki anyway. " He looked at Byakuya. "I have seen how strong your resolve is."

"But this isn't—" Kazeshini began to protest, but Muramasa cut him off.

"Say no more."

After a few seconds of tense teetering, Kazeshini decided it wasn't worth the argument. "Eh, fuck!" he spat, then turned and retreated back to the table, where he sat brooding.

Suddenly, from down on the floating ice column, Senbonzakura's voice rang out. "Don't you ever forget, Byakuya Kuchiki! If you act the least bit suspicious, I'll kill you! I'll be watching your every move from the shadows!"

Byakuya ignored the threat.

Muramasa spoke. "Now then, Byakuya Kuchiki, if you really intend to stay with us, I've got a job for you." He began walking back up the stairs, and Byakuya followed him, leaving the others still staring down over the ledge.

"I can't believe he destroyed his own sister's zanpakuto," Suzemebachi buzzed.

"I may not have liked her, but I didn't want this to happen," Haineko said.

Ruri'iro Kujaku was honest and blunt. "I won't pretend to be sad."

"That's cold," Suzemebachi chastised.

"Then, it's fitting."

"Poor Senbonzakura," Tobiume sighed. "Look at him grieving."

Kazeshini was not as sympathetic. "What's he got to grieve about? It was his own damned suggestion that caused this. He's got no right to act angry about it now."

"You're right," Ruri'iro Kujaku agreed, then straightening up. "Maybe you're not so stupid after all."

---

"Hey, wake up. Ikkaku, wake up!"

Ikkaku opened his eyes to see Yumichika staring down at him.

"I fell asleep? How did I fall asleep?" Ikkaku asked groggily, sitting up. Looking around, he could see they were still in the same place where their search had left off earlier that night.

After Ichigo's departure, they had set back out on patrol, this time to the north. A series of flash thunderstorms had driven them to take shelter in an old conservatory, and here, between the sound of the falling rain, the dark stillness, and the stuffy warmth of the place, it had not been long before the events of the previous 48 hours caught up with Ikkaku and his nap had turned into a sleep.

"That doesn't matter," Yumichika said excitedly. "Come look outside. Those flashes . . . that's Renji and Captain Kuchiki. I can feel their reiatsu even from here. Are they fighting each other?"

Ikkaku was on his feet in a second, a great sinister grin spreading across his face. "Who cares? There's action. Let's go!"

---

"My friends, it appears Byakuya Kuchiki and Senbonzakura need some assistance."

Hoozukimaru looked up from where he'd been sitting on the ground, leaning back against the cool, sweating wall of the cavern. He saw Muramasa coming down the steps. "I could have told you that. Kuchiki was never really going to betray the Shinigami."

Sitting in front of him with his back to the dragon's chest, Ruri'iro Kujaku nodded his agreement. "And I wouldn't be surprised if Senbonzakura is also just putting on a good show."

"It's nothing like that," Muramasa replied. "Captain Kuchiki just needs a little added incentive. I think you all will do nicely."

"Good," Hoozukimaru growled, getting to his feet and bringing Ruri'iro Kujaku up with him. "I'm tired of just sitting around while those two get all the action. I'm ready to flex my muscles."

"Who are they fighting?" Suzumebachi asked.

"Abarai and Rukia Kuchiki," Muramasa replied.

Hoozukimaru shook his head. "You'd think they could handle those two without any help."

Ruri'iro Kujaku inclined his head in agreement. "You would think."

Flashstep took them there quickly, just in time to see Byakuya Kuchiki walking away from the scene of what had apparently been a very destructive fight. "I'll say this one more time. Stay out of the zanpakuto rebellion from now on," he commanded.

He was speaking to Renji and Rukia. Renji was on the ground in bad shape. Rukia crouched over him protectively.

Kazeshini spoke first. "Hey now, aren't you going to finish them off?"

"Looks like you're having a blast," Hoozukimaru nodded appreciately. The scenes of destruction got his blood pumping. He enjoyed a good fight every bit as much as his master.

Senbonzakura flashed in. "What are you all doing here?" His manner was belligerent.

Ruri'iro Kujaku took it upon himself to answer, but not after chastising, "Isn't that a tad rude? We came because Muramasa-san told us to come help out." He did not even bother to look at Senbonzakura as he spoke, choosing instead to survey the destruction like a seaman searching for the horizon.

Kazeshini burst into evil laughter. "Let's just kill these fuckin' Shinigami!" Then to Byakuya, who made no move to assist, he taunted, "What? Not going to help out? I didn't think so. Well, if you won't do it, then . . . we will!"

Renji urged Rukia to make a run for it, but she refused to leave his side.

"It makes no difference," Kazeshini sneered. "You're both finished."

But before a single blow could fall, the air shimmered with the arrival of the Stealth Force. Atop one of the partially destroyed structures stood Captain Soifon.

"Freeze!" she ordered.

"Yo! Who were you going to kill?"

Hoozukimaru recognized the sound of his master's voice and turned to see Ikkaku standing on top of another building.

At the same moment, Yumichika materialized. Ruri'iro Kujaku did not need to hear his voice to know he was there. He could feel his reiatsu. He turned around and there, regarding him with smug confidence from the fractured remains of a terracotta roof, was Yumichika.

It was a peculiar moment for Ruri'iro Kujaku. He had dreamt of this moment, this moment when he would once again meet his master in bodily form, for over a hundred years. He'd thought of the things he'd say, the things he'd do. He had almost composed an entire script in his head. But now the moment was upon him, and he was finding it exceedingly difficult to focus on the anger and hurt of the past century when faced with such incredible and undimmed beauty. That burning desire to be free of Yumichika had somehow been knocked out of the forefront and relegated to some quiet back corner of his mind.

Fortunately, for him, he was surrounded by other zanpakuto who were watching him and making sure he did not give in to feelings of affection or loyalty. And he felt that, if he followed their eager lead for confrontation, he would not succumb to his own mercurial nature.

Still, the mere sight of his master . . .

For Yumichika, the situation was much simpler. Seeing Ruri'iro Kujaku brought nothing but enmity to his heart. How dare the zanpakuto try to break free of him? And the sheer audacity of manifesting here in front of everyone . . . the peacock had to be contemplating revealing his true power. Yumichika would not permit that to happen.

More Shinigami materialized, including Ichigo, prompting Hoozukimaru to note, "Looks like we're completely surrounded." But he did not sound disappointed.

"Anyone would have realized we were here, after all the commotion they made," Ruri'iro replied.

Captain Soifon spoke authoritatively. "Byakuya Kuchiki, you and all these zanpakuto are under arrest."

"With so many of us here, why don't we settle this one-on-one?" Hoozukimaru suggested, for he had really only one thing in mind: to finish what he and his master had started earlier.

"What?" Ikkaku growled from above. "Sounds like a challenge!"

"We can do that if you like," Yumichika added. "I'm ready any time."

Ruri'iro Kujaku glanced up over his shoulder and made a mocking face.

"Don't let them goad you!" Soifon said. "First, we have to secure the area, so they can't escape. Then we'll force them to submit."

"Ah, that's a bunch of bullshit," Kazeshini dismissed. "If we're going to fight, let's fight. We won't run or hide anyway." With that, he leapt forward and cut down the nearest Shinigami.

"He's absolutely right," Ruri'iro agreed. "Besides, we have no choice." He also sprang into action, as did the rest of the zanpakuto.

It was no contest, really; but for Ruri'iro Kujaku, such indiscriminate violence did not last long. Almost immediately, he found Yumichika standing in front of him, cutting him off from pursuing other less able quarry.

"Who are you looking to fight?" Yumichika asked, betraying no emotion whatsoever.

"You're the only one I have to defeat," came the lackadaisical response. "And how hard can that be?"

"Follow me, and you'll find out."

Ruri'iro grinned. "My pleasure."

Yumichika used to flashstep to lead him out of the Seireitei altogether and to a long-abandoned remote fortress southeast of the city. Here, he settled down on the flat patio-like roof of the former grand hall, flanked on all sides by stone parapets.

Ruri'iro Kujaku materialized directly across from him, not a half dozen yards separating them.

The proximity was proving dangerous.

Yumichika had not seen his zanpakuto's manifested spirit in over a hundred years, and now he knew that had been a wise decision. While Yumichika was still disdainful of his zanpakuto, one thing was certain: Ruri'iro Kujaku was undiminished in beauty and raw sexual allure; and in this form, he was visible in perfect clarity, stunning without even trying, as close to perfection as a created being could be. And as such, he was dangerous. He had lost none of his power; in fact, Yumichika could sense like never before, vast, seemingly endless stores of reiatsu, of which Ruri'iro Kujaku was allowing only a pinprick's worth to spill out.

"It's been a long time," Ruri'iro said pleasantly, conversationally. "How have you been?"

How Yumichika hated the sound of that voice. So smooth, so dulcet, filled with a languorous warmth. A voice that seemed deceptively incapable of animus. It was easy to recall that he had once entertained an unspoken love for that voice. But that was a long time ago. He would not be fooled into those feelings again.

"So-so," he replied coolly. "You seem to be doing well."

"Now that I'm free of you," the peacock crooned. "You were the source of all my stress." He could not pass up the opportunity to take a jab at his master. "I'm surprised you recognized me at all, it's been so long."

Yumichika was more than prepared to return the insult in kind. "I recognized you right away. After all, just looking at you disgusts me . . . Fuji Kujaku."

Ruri'iro Kujaku reacted with indignation. "Don't call me that! It ruffles my feathers. You know what my name is."

Yumichika shrugged carelessly. "I'll call you whatever I want. You're my zanpakuto. I'm your master."

Ruri'iro Kujaku glared at him but then affected the same unbothered manner as Yumichika. "As you like. But be warned, if you call me by that name again . . . I will kill you."

Yumichika grinned snidely. "Kill me if you can."

"You certainly have grown cocky," Ruri'iro stated. "I would have thought that after your battle with Charlotte Cuuhlhorne, you'd appreciate how much you need me."

"I've always appreciated your ability," Yumichika replied. "I just haven't always needed it. You know I've been able to get through most fights without needing the vines, so don't try to act as if you're the main reason for my success as a warrior. Charlotte was a tough opponent, but he wasn't the first one I had to use the vines against. And he probably won't be the last."

"Oh yes, he will," Ruri'iro countered. "I am no longer at your beck and call. Muramasa set me free. Now, I respond only when I want to. You don't control me anymore."

Yumichika clasped his sword with both hands and took up a fighting position. "We'll see about that."

Ruri'iro Kujaku could not help but marvel silently at his master's tenacity. Yumichika had to know he was outmatched, that he had no chance of defeating him. But there he stood, ready to do battle, portraying himself, for all world, as if he hadn't a single of doubt of victory.

Ruri'iro's eyes scanned up and down to take in the full appearance of his master, and he lamented that he had not been able to gaze upon such beauty in so many years. An admiring sigh escaped his lips, and right away, the anger and challenge vanished from his face.

"You know, you look pretty good holding a katana, kimi," he said approvingly.

Yumichika was bewildered by the comment, and for a moment, he felt a twinge of nostalgic fondness, but it flashed away quickly. After all, this was just the kujaku being the kujaku: flaky, quirky, unable to hold onto any negative emotion for very long. Yumichika used to admire him for it; now he only saw it as another despised weakness – a lack of conviction.

Ruri'iro Kujaku was still talking. He had advanced to a topic that was much more interesting to him than fighting. "And those feathers on your face . . . I can tell they're fake, but they look good on you." His voice took on a note of assessing wonder. "You know, I never really paid attention before" – this was most certainly a lie, for looking at his master had always been one of Ruri'iro's favorite pastimes before he had allowed himself to be sequestered away. "But you're quite easy on the eyes."

Yumichika was stunned. "Where-where did that come from, kimi?"

Ruri'iro Kujaku ignored the question and lowered his weapon, caught up in his own thoughts. "But I think you would look better if we tried to make those feathers a little more authentic." He put his hands on his hips in consideration. "But if you overdo it, it could end up looking trashy.

"What are you getting at?" Yumichika asked impatiently.

"I know. You could use some of my feathers," Ruri'iro offered. "They're 100 percent authentic. And my colors would suit you much better . . . "

"I don't want those old things. They're too out of style," Yumichika declined. He was amazed that he had never found them to be unstylish before. On Ruri'iro Kujaku, they were stunning and magnificent. They might even be just as brilliant if Yumichika chose them as his own adornment.

But he could not admit that – not right now, not under these circumstances.

"We could also spruce up your uniform. It's so dull. We should add some color, give it some flair. That would be great!"

"Hey!" Yumichika huffed, trying to bring his zanpakuto's attention back to the important matter at hand.

But Ruri'iro Kujaku simply continued, "And you really should show more skin—"

That was as much as Yumichika could take. Ruri'iro Kujaku was not taking this seriously, which might actually have been to Yumichika's advantage, for a focused peacock was the more dangerous enemy. A scatter-brained peacock whose attention was wound up in the aesthetics of his master's appearance would be an easier opponent.

Yet, Yumichika could not abide the silliness, the lack of interest in what was, by all accounts, a serious threat to the stability of Soul Society. Ruri'iro Kujaku appeared to be completely indifferent to the fact of his own rebellion and its possible consequences.

"That's enough! You're just saying those things to make fun of me!" Yumichika accused angrily.

"No, I'm not," Ruri'iro replied, surprised that his master could not hear the sincerity in his voice.

And of course, Yumichika could hear the sincerity in his voice. He could see the earnestness on his face. But that did nothing to allay his anger at Ruri'iro Kujaku's impudence. If anything, it only increased his irritation, because it was further proof of the kujaku's flightiness, his inability to hold onto any one emotion for more than a few minutes.

"Just the sight of you sickens me," Yumichika with scathing smoothness. "And it's not as if your personality is any improvement." He paused. "You know why I brought you out here, away from the others, don't you?"

Ruri'iro Kujaku raised his hand and flipped back his hair in a careless, pretentious manner. "Because you don't want them to see my ability."

"Exactly," Yumichika replied.

"You may come to regret that decision," Ruri'iro warned him, still maintaining his aloof demeanor.

"I don't think so," Yumichika disagreed. "It's just how I fight . . . Fuji Kujaku."

All the other insults had floated past Ruri'iro Kujaku's ears; but this one, used now for the second time in a matter of minutes, could not be so easily jettisoned. His master was provoking him, purposefully insulting him and trying to make him angry. Ruri'iro Kujaku had not been committed to the idea of fighting his master. He'd been so enchanted at the sight of him that he'd considered they might have a chance, if not at reconciliation, then at least at civility. Maybe they could be free together. That was a tantalizing thought. He'd chosen the topic of beauty, something in which they both shared a common interest, in an attempt to thaw the ice of the last hundred years.

But his master had shown no interest in bridging rivers. He'd spoken with intent to injure, and he had succeeded.

Ruri'iro Kujaku seethed with rage. "I told you I would kill you if you used that name again."

"So? What's stopping you?"

Ruri'iro raised his sword again, and blue light rose from it like steam. "Nothing. But I think we'd both enjoy a bit of cat-and-mouse first, don't you?"

"I'm not here to play games," Yumichika replied. "I'm here to make you submit."

"Sounds exciting," Ruri'iro said luridly. "I might even enjoy that."

Yumichika sprang forward and made a slice at chest level, which Ruri'iro Kujaku dodged with a single step back. He followed with a downward swing meant to engage Ruri'iro's sword, but again the peacock was able to avoid the attack with a simple side-step. Flipping the sword over in his hand, he then thrusted backwards, only to have his weapon batted down when it met its twin in Ruri'iro Kujaku's hand.

Yumichika whirled around as Ruri'iro turned to face him. The smugness in the peacock's eye was enough to set his blood on fire, and he drove forward with an attack that turned into a remise when Ruri'iro Kujaku parried the onslaught with barely a movement of his own blade. However, Yumichika did not back down, even as each foray grew more and more sloppy, until finally Ruri'iro Kujaku used his superior strength to thrust Yumichika's blade forcefully aside, to the point where Yumichika found himself momentarily airborne, landing on his feet several yards away.

"You've forgotten everything I taught you about fighting," the kujaku chastised. "You're not strong, so you have to rely on speed and the element of surprise. You've forgotten all of that."

"I haven't forgotten," Yumichika countered. "But you know all those tricks, all those moves. I can't use them against you. You'd be able to anticipate all my moves."

"You couldn't do any worse than you're doing now," Ruri'iro came back. "Is this how the Gotei 13 teaches its warriors how to fight? It's pathetic. I don't know how you've managed to survive all these years."

"I managed it without your help," Yumichika sneered.

"You used me often enough," Ruri'iro pointed out. "Mostly by that terrible name, but you used my full release when it suited you. So don't say you managed without my help. And even if it were true that you got through all those years without me, that would mean you don't need me now. You'd have no reason to try and get me back, but that's what you're doing. Why don't you just let me go, if I'm so useless to you?"

"I never said you were useless," Yumichika replied. "I won't let you go because you belong to me. Whether I like you or not, you rose from my soul, and you're my responsibility."

Ruri'iro Kujaku made a humorless face. "Your responsibility . . . how gallant of you. I suppose you have to protect everyone from me."

"You're dangerous," Yumichika confirmed. "You have tremendous power and no sense at all of how and when to use it."

"Really? Do you think you've been the one keeping me in check all these years? Do you think you were exerting enough power to control me?" Ruri'iro scoffed. "The only reason I haven't overpowered you is because I chose not to. I deferred to you and your desires because I didn't want to lose you. Now, I don't care what happens to you."

"You should," Yumichika replied. "If I die, so do you."

"That's not what Muramasa says," Ruri'iro countered. "He said that's all a lie."

"And you can believe him at your own peril," Yumichika warned. "So, go ahead and try to kill me. I won't go down without a fight. And even if I am killed . . . you'll go down with me."

"You would rather risk that than simply let me go free?"

"That's what I said."

"So, even though you don't want me, you also don't want to let me go."

Yumichika regarded him in silent confirmation.

"Very well," Ruri'iro shrugged. "If that's the way you want it." He leapt forward, bringing his sword down in an overhead arch that had so much sheer muscle power behind it that the impact rattled Yumichika's entire body and broke the slate pavers beneath his feet. He delivered blow after blow, from every angle, each one more powerful than the last, forcing Yumichika into a strictly defensive posture.

After nearly fifteen minutes of watching his master backstep and stumble away from his attack, the peacock grew disappointed and annoyed. "Why do you keep running away? Why won't you stand and fight me?!" With the last word, he made a one-handed, long-armed slice, like swinging a bat.

Yumichika met the attack with the broadside of his blade and found himself flying backwards into a parapet column. With the wind knocked out of him and his head swimming, Yumichika dropped like an unstrung puppet at the base of the column as the upper portion was blown to pieces in Ruri'iro Kujaku's follow-on attack.

For several seconds, Yumichika was too stunned to move. Getting air back into his lungs was his foremost concern. He still had his sword in his hand, but his grip was loose and detached, almost as if he hadn't the strength to clasp the weapon anymore. He looked up to see Ruri'iro Kujaku's confident stride as the peacock came and stood in front him.

"You really are all talk," Ruri'iro derided him, although his voice was conspicuously pleasant. "You're such a pushover, kimi."

The careless manner, the superior attitude, the image of stunning perfection gloating over him . . . how dare his zanpakuto defy him like this? How dare he make fun of him and show his disdain by not even taking their fight seriously? Uncontrollable anger swelled up inside Yumichika, giving him a boost of strength that he'd not had only a moment earlier.

"Shut up!" he screamed, bursting to his feet and launching an attack that Ruri'iro Kujaku easily parried, tossing Yumichika aside once again, like a man might swat a gnat – treating his own master as if he were a minor nuisance.

Yumichika landed on his feet and skidded to a stop, where he stood panting from exhaustion and rage. He glared at his zanpakuto with a fiery hatred that seemed to know no depth.

"What's with that look?" Ruri'iro asked placidly. "It's not at all beautiful."

"I'll—never forgive you for this," Yumichika gasped between breaths.

Ruri'iro Kujaku thought this was an ironic thing to say. If anyone should be demanding forgiveness, it was him. He was the one who had been wronged by his master for over a hundred years. He was the one whose beauty and power had been purposefully withdrawn and hidden away from the world because of his master's insecurities. He was the one who had been promised sunshine, only to see it always turn to rain.

And now, to hear his master say such a thing . . . it was ludicrous.

"What do I care?" Ruri'iro said, lowering his weapon and glancing away.

It was such a blatant show of dismissal that it only served to further infuriate Yumichika. Clearly, Ruri'iro Kujaku saw no threat whatsoever in his master. His next words only confirmed that.

"Anyway, it's time you surrendered, kimi. You know you can't beat me. If you surrender now, I'll even spare your life," Ruri'iro offered, feeling his own magnanimity.

"There's no way in hell I'm going to surrender," Yumichika spat, tightening his grip and firming his resolve.

Ruri'iro Kujaku had been expecting this, and he found it exasperating. He sighed heavily and dropped his head to his chest. "Kimi-san, haven't you noticed the reiatsu surrounding us? I know you can feel it. There's no way you Shinigami can defeat us. Even Madarame's reiatsu disappeared a few seconds ago."

His words, spoken evenly—almost observationally—felt like a hand of ice reaching inside Yumichika's chest and grabbing his heart. Yumichika had been so focused on his own battle that he'd not noticed the sudden vacuum in his perception, in the spot always filled by Ikkaku's reiatsu. He reached out but detected nothing.

Seeing his master's sudden distraction and upset, Ruri'iro Kujaku felt a twisted sense of sadistic pleasure that he'd not felt until this moment. Let his master fret and grieve over Madarame. Let him see where his single-minded dedication had led: to a moment when he could not even focus his own senses on the battle at hand, because he was too distraught about another man's circumstances.

"Face it, none of you stand a chance against us," Ruri'iro cooed, his voice in stark contrast to the expression of wicked satisfaction on his face.

"Ikkaku didn't lose," Yumichika pushed back. "Hoozukimaru's reiatsu disappeared, too."

"Believe me, there's no way Hoozukimaru would lose to Madarame. He's probably just reigning in his reiatsu to make their fight more fair, given Madarame has no access to his shikai or bankai. They both like to stretch their battles on forever," Ruri'iro explained. "Honestly, those two are so similar." He paused, and his voice took on a dangerous tenor. "But I'm not like them." He raised his sword and it shined in the moonlight. "And unlike you, I'm not afraid to show off my power."

Yumichika knew what was coming. He knew.

"No!" he screamed, lunging forward. "Stop it!"

Ruri'iro Kujaku disregarded the plea. "Sakikurue."

The blade split into the four scythes which elongated into the vines and exploded into an attack that caught Yumichika by such force that he was pushed backwards and slammed into the wall of the parapet walk, which crumbled behind him.

When his head cleared, he found himself slumped against the remains of the wall, two vines encircling his waist, two more wrapped around his arms. He still had his sword in his hand but he could barely feel it in his fingers, the vines were digging so deeply into his flesh.

He heard Ruri'iro Kujaku's voice, goading and berating him. "So, what do you think of being attacked by the power that you detest so much? You once asked me to do this to you; you wanted to know what it felt like. Well, now you know!" With that, the vines constricted, bringing a cry of pain from Yumichika's lips. Ruri'iro continued, "Is it what you expected? Is this what you so anxiously wanted to experience? Tell me now . . . what do you think?"

Yumichika could barely draw breath. Ruri'iro Kujaku had not even started to siphon his reiatsu yet. This agony was the physical agony of being squeezed to death.

"I—don't—w-want anyone to know a-about it," Yumichika croaked out. "I'll g-get kicked out of the squad."

"I don't understand why you go on and on over them," Ruri'iro scowled. "You're choosing them over me. How can you be so stubborn!" He yanked back his sword, and the vines tossed Yumichika forward to land on his stomach, the vines still binding him, and now jarring the sword lose from his hand, where it lodged by the point between the tightly hewn stones stone slabs of the roof.

So many emotions competed for Yumichika's attention that he did not know which one, if any, was the more prevalent. Ensnared by his own weapon, he had to acknowledge Ruri'iro Kujaku's wisdom all those years ago: this was a horrible feeling, even though the vines had not even started to absorb energy yet. It was a feeling of complete helplessness, and knowing what was to come only made it worse. In addition to his fear, he felt anger – but not just anger at Ruri'iro Kujaku. Yes, the peacock had rebelled against him, but why should that be a surprise? All the zanpakuto had rebelled with the exception of Yamamoto's. And almost every zanpakuto had a better relationship with its master than Ruri'iro Kujaku had with Yumichika. If even those with good relationships had succumbed to Muramasa, why not the Azure Peacock? No, Yumichika was angry at himself. Angry that he had not been able to master his zanpakuto. Angry that he had, in truth, stopped progressing in that area decades ago. Angry that he did not know how to rectify the situation without giving up all that he held dear.

And he would not do that. He would not give up Ikkaku, Zaraki, and the Eleventh Squad. He would not do it! He pushed up onto his forearms. "The Eleventh Squad . . . "

"I don't want to hear about the Eleventh Squad!" Ruri'iro shouted. "I'm sick of the Eleventh Squad! Is that all you can think about?! What about me?!"

Yumichika glared up at him in defiance. "Shut up! Fuji Kujaku!"

For a moment, Ruri'iro Kujaku was too stunned to believe what he was hearing. Here, his master was faced with certain defeat, even death, and given the chance to engage in a conversation with his zanpakuto, he'd chosen against it.

A fresh wave of pain and sadness coursed through Ruri'iro Kujaku's body, but he pushed it down. His master had made his choice long ago, and nothing had changed. Nothing. Nothing! Ruri'iro Kujaku would never be first in his master's life. He would never fill the role of the beloved. In truth, it now seemed that he had fallen so far below his master's notice as to have become insignificant. And if that were the case . . .

"Very well, then."

The kujaku gathered his resolve and sent his anger and hurt surging through the vines, which contracted violently, forcing the air from Yumichika's lungs in an agonized scream. And yet, Ruri'iro Kujaku could not feel any sense of satisfaction. He knew no amount of physical damage would compel his master to change his attitude regarding him. Yumichika despised him, and he had come to despise Yumichika.

So, why couldn't he bring himself to suck him dry of life? He had him right there at his will, unable to escape or even put up any meaningful resistance. It was a very unfair advantage. He could pull every last bit of spirit energy out of him in a split second. His thought was his command, but why couldn't his thoughts order the destruction of his master? It was perplexing.

It couldn't be that he had some secret affection still for Yumichika. No, that was definitely not the case. He hated him – with every fiber of his being, with every strained breath, with every beat of his heart. The hope of which Hoozukimaru and Muramasa had spoken earlier—the hope of reconciliation—that had been more of a dream than a hope, and always a distant one. All that Ruri'iro Kujaku wanted now from his master was his defeat.

"And to see you suffer." Ruri'iro Kujaku startled at the thought. How could such an idea have made its way into his head? Yet, it was not alone. "I want you to suffer like you've made me suffer all these years."

He hadn't felt such animosity towards Yumichika until now. Perhaps it was the realization finally dawning on him that this, his last attempt, his last chance at re-establishing their relationship was being rebuffed. His interest, his admiring words, his helpful observations of Yumichika's appearance had all been thrown back in his face.

"If y-you're going to d-do it, get on with it." Yumichika still managed to sound disdainful even as he gasped out the words.

"I'm in no hurry," Ruri'iro answered. "I want to savor this moment. I haven't even started to drain your reiatsu yet." A pause. "I imagine yours will be like . . . honey . . . or flowers."

"H-how could y-you have ever arisen from my s-soul?" Yumichika whispered.

Suddenly, the vines drew him to a standing position, stretching him out spread-eagle. Ruri'iro Kujaku moved to stand before him. "I ask myself the same thing every day." A pause. "And I ask myself what happened to you."

Yumichika only looked at him with a cold remoteness in his eye.

Seeing that his master was not going to respond, the peacock shrugged. "But I guess none of that matters now."

Ensnared, beaten, bloody, and exhausted, Yumichika wondered if there were any possibility of escape. He also wondered if Ruri'iro Kujaku truly had the courage to kill him. This might be one time when the peacock's fickle, wishy-washy conviction would come in handy. After all, Yumichika had given him an open invitation to hurry up and get the deed overwith, but Ruri'iro had balked – although Yumichika did not doubt for one moment that his given motives were true: Ruri'iro wanted to see his master suffer.

He did not have to wonder what that suffering would entail. He'd seen Ruri'iro Kujaku in action enough times to know that the zanpakuto understood pain very well and how to inflict it.

And then he felt it. A small, almost imperceptible tingling in his bound arms and legs. It was almost a phantom sensation, but he knew it could be only one thing.

Ruri'iro Kujaku had begun to drain his reiatsu.

It didn't feel the way he had imagined. He had always envisioned a sort of outflow, like water through pipes; but this conjured more the image of evaporation, like dew dissipating in the morning sun.

It wasn't violent, but it was undeniably a violation of the sanctity of the soul. It was a form of taking that was not only intrusive, it was . . . lascivious. There was a saccharine undercurrent of lurid sexual absorption in the use of the vines, but being the victim of such a ravagement was not at all pleasant. It was terrifying, and the only thing that enabled Yumichika to keep his wits about him was the fact that his assailant was his own zanpakuto, so there was still a possibility that he might prevail.

"How does it feel?" Ruri'iro asked, his both snide and gentle. "Is it what you thought it would be?"

Yumichika did not reply, and Ruri'iro Kujaku had not expected him to. Already, he was seeing the color draining from his master's face, and his entire body seemed to be wilting like a dying flower.

"How long do you think I can draw this out?" Ruri'iro wondered outloud. "Do you think—do you think I could stretch your torture out over a hundred years? Just like you did to me?"

"You're a sadistic bastard," Yumichika ground out.

"Just like you."

In the next moment, a wave of brutal reiatsu rolled over them. It had come from the same place they had left earlier and where most of the fighting was still going on.

Yumichika felt a sudden sense of relief and calm. A hundred years ago, that reiatsu would have set his hair on end and turned his insides into knots. But now, especially under these circumstances, it brought him peace and . . . resolve.

Ruri'iro Kujaku turned towards the source. "That reiatsu . . . "

Yumichika managed a faint grin. "Yes, you should recognize it." He paused to make sure his words had the desired effect. "It's Captain Zaraki."

Ruri'iro Kujaku stood still for several minutes, as if he were listening to a whisper on the wind. Then he said with grudging admiration, "Impressive. Just what I'd expect from that battle-crazed lunatic."

"What?" Yumichika asked.

"Wabisuke has been defeated. Zaraki had no hesitation breaking him into pieces. I'm not surprised, since he has so little respect for his own zanpakuto," he replied.

Yumichika was astounded that Ruri'iro Kujaku was so finely attuned to reiatsu that he could sense the events going on even over so great a distance.

Ruri'iro was still speaking. "But his reiatsu is so hideous. I just don't like the man. I never have." He looked back over his shoulder at Yumichika. "You must feel the same way."

Yumichika narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Ruri'iro regarded him with a sort of reluctant fondness – strange, considering only moments earlier he had been relishing the idea of torturing him.

"I'm loathe to admit it, but you and I really are very similar," he said.

Yumichika could not imagine anything further from the truth. "Oh?"

"Indeed," Ruri'iro said, facing him. "We both merely want to live by our aesthetic principles – as beautifully as possible. But the Eleventh Squad doesn't suit us. It isn't right for us. You know that, kimi. You've known it since day one. They're nothing but a bunch of . . . smelly, sweaty, hotheads. They'd never accept you if they knew of my true power. They'd make fun of you if you used it front of them." He paused and spoke earnestly. "They can't appreciate your abilities, and so keeping those abilities a secret from Madarame and Zaraki became an art form for you somewhere along the line. Hiding me became your top priority. But I guess I should have known better. Half-baked narcissists like you worry about how others view them."

"What are you getting at?" Yumichika asked.

"You, who fail to accept your abilities because of what others might think, can never hope to defeat someone like me, who believes in himself and his abilities," Ruri'iro answered. "I'm not ashamed like you are."

"Haven't you become the talkative one," Yumichika sniffed dismissively.

"I've always been talkative," Ruri'iro Kujaku replied. "You just haven't had the time or the interest to listen to me for the last hundred years." He lowered his head. "And since you still have no interest in doing so, I think it's time we end this."

Yumichika felt an increase in the drain on his body. On the vines, buds began to form.

"Farewell, my master."

And yet, despite his assertive words, Ruri'iro Kujaku did not unleash his full power. While he had sped up the absorption of reiatsu, he was still intent on drawing out the event. He watched as Yumichika's body grew lax and he eventually sagged to his knees.

Ruri'iro Kujaku felt a swirling warmth inside. Oh, there was something genuinely and tantalizingly beautiful about seeing his power in action. The vines pulsated with a blue-green glow, and where the buds were forming, halos of white light preceded their appearance. The victim, his master, helpless against his superior strength . . . it was enthralling.

But then his reverie was interrupted by yet another burst of reiatsu, this one accompanied by a searing yellow ball of light that radiated out from where Zaraki had been fighting. It dissipated just short of reaching the rooftop where Ruri'iro stood, but the invisible gust of reiatsu was fully palpable.

"It's truly amazing to be able to feel that man's reiatsu all the way out here," Ruri'iro stated. "But you won't be able to feel anything for much longer." He turned as Yumichika raised his head, and he saw there a desperation that had not been there a moment ago. "What a lovely expression! Everyone trembles in fear when facing death. But you already knew that. You've seen it plenty of times before." A pause. "Please wilt away beautifully."

But Ruri'iro Kujaku had it all wrong. All wrong.

The expression he had taken for desperation had not been that at all.

Rather, it had been a reflection of the hope, the resolve Yumichika had suddenly felt upon feeling such an explosion of his captain's reiatsu. He had just about given up the idea of defeating Ruri'iro Kujaku, but defeat did not mean he had to give in without a fight. He didn't have to wilt away beautifully. He knew his chances of success were still slim to none, but he would not break with Squad tradition: he would not accept defeat until he was dead.

"I've decided," he announced.

Ruri'iro Kujaku looked at him curiously. "You've decided?"

"Yes."

Ruri'iro smirked. "Don't tell me you've decided to die with honor. It's too late for that.""

"That's not it," Yumichika replied. "I've decided to defeat you."

Ruri'iro actually laughed in disbelief, but Yumichika ignored his incredulity.

"It's true I've always cared what Ikkaku thinks of me, and you've known that for years. And now I've grown to respect Captain Zaraki, and I care what he thinks of me, as well—"

"You worry so much about what they think that you've given up who you really are, you've abandoned your own aesthetic ideal," Ruri'iro Kujaku pointed out. "You've become something you were never meant to be."

Yumichika's demeanor was flat and serious. "You're wrong. Yes, it's true I'd rather die than have anyone see your true abilities. But there's more to it than that." He struggled to his feet, and his reiatsu began to rise like steam from his body. The buds elongated and began to bloom.

This was not what Ruri'iro Kujaku had expected, and it struck him with panic. "What are you doing?! Are you insane?! The more reiatsu you give off, the faster the flowers will bloom! You're hastening your own death!"

"I know that!" Yumichika shouted back at him, and then, even though it was a long shot, he opened his right hand, still bound by Ruri'iro's vines. "Way of Destruction #3: Red Flame Cannon!"

A ball of reddish light formed in his palm which he then directed it towards the vine, exploding it in half. With his arm now free, he reached down and snatched up his sword, cutting away several more vines, finishing with a cry of determination as he lopped the last one in two.

"You're mad!" Ruri'iro Kujaku exclaimed.

"So what if I am?" Yumichika retorted, panting from the exertion and loss of reiatsu. "You still don't get it. Whatever I used to be, now I'm a member of the Eleventh Squad. I don't care what happens to this body. I'll do whatever it takes to fight you. If I have to, I'll fight through sheer force of will, just like my captain." He paused. "And if I die fighting, I'll die laughing."

"What kind of nonsense is that?!" Ruri'iro demanded. "You'll die alone, emptied of your reiatsu, at the hands of your own zanpakuto! All because you refused to treat me like—like—" For a moment, the peacock's composure slipped, and his voice burst out of him in anger. "You stopped caring about me!"

"Shut up!" Yumichika shot back, lunging forward and noticing immediately that his energy was far more diminished than he had realized. He had to concentrate just in order to keep on his feet.

For the next ten minutes, he went on the offensive but with no success. He had very little strength left, and his attacks grew more and more sloppy with each pass. It was clear that Ruri'iro Kujaku was letting him come after him, absorbing each attack with ease, even humor. The fact that the peacock did not reverse the situation and put Yumichika on the defensive only added insult to injury. Ruri'iro was playing with him. Yumichika had to use both hands to even manage his sword; Ruri'iro Kujaku proffered a one-handed defense that gave him the appearance of being bored.

At length, the zanpakuto laughed derisively, "Is that the best you can do? So much for the prowess of the vaunted Eleventh Squad! You're pathetic!" With that, he pushed Yumichika away, sending him skidding across the rooftop.

When Yumichika came to rest and regained his feet, he took a moment to assess his situation as Ruri'iro Kujaku stood regarding him dispassionately.

"Damn . . . I used so much of my spirit energy getting loose from the vines," he said to himself. "How am I ever going to defeat him? Look at him . . . he's not even winded. He's getting the better of me, and there's no way I can escape him. Damn . . . I never thought I'd rue the day I couldn't use him and his powers. "

Ruri'iro approached him slowly, casually. "I'm well aware that your reiatsu has been growing fainter and fainter. You shouldn't push yourself too hard." His words dripped with condescension and sarcasm.

"Why are you drawing this out? Do you really enjoy doing this to me?" Yumichika seethed.

"To be honest . . . yes, I am enjoying myself. But it has gotten a little boring. I mean, it's obvious that you're out of ideas. If you like, you can use my powers. It might make things a little more fair."

Yumichika looked away. "No, thanks."

Ruri'iro Kujaku sighed. "I thought you'd say that. Perhaps you'd prefer it if I defeated you without using my powers. I don't have to use the vines. That would be interesting, don't you think?"

A small dot of hope touched the back of Yumichika's mind. He saw a possibility, an opening.

Ruri'iro Kujaku was a proud creature. But he was also sensitive to any kind of insult. Despite his earlier bloviating about his confidence in his own abilities, he was a needy being – and his greatest need was affirmation.

If Yumichika could prey on that . . .

"What? And go against your nature? You bragged about how someone like you isn't afraid of using his power. And now here you are, saying maybe you won't use that power. Are you afraid it won't be enough?"

"Don't be an idiot," Ruri'iro replied. "Of course, it's enough. I just wanted to put us on a more even level, but I suppose that's impossible. Even at my weakest, I'm still more powerful than your strongest."

"Huh, your actions don't match your words," Yumichika scoffed. "If you were really proud of your abilities, you would have ended this a long time ago and gone off to enjoy your new freedom. The idea that you're doing this just to make me suffer sounds like a great big lie. If you're so sure you can destroy me, then just do it. I'm tired of your cowardice."

Yumichika could not quite discern the expression on Ruri'iro Kujaku's face. It was indulgent, resigned . . . knowing.

"So be it," the peacock said, sounding strangely docile. He held his arm out to his side. "I can use this method as many times as I like for as long as I like. Sakikirue." The vines came forth and undulated gently. "You said you would die laughing, so long as you had fought your hardest. I'm going to laugh, too – at how wonderful it will feel to finally be free of you."

Yumichika braced himself. Ruri'iro Kujaku, true to his prideful nature, had not been able to sidestep the challenge to his abilities and dignity. He sent the vines forth . . . very slowly, Yumichika noticed. He was surprised, considering the speed with which they had attacked before. But either way, it did not matter, for he had had only one hope left.

"Way of Binding Number Four, Crawling Rope!"

Yumichika pressed his index and middle finger together and made a backhanded sweeping motion, from which came forth a blue cord of energy. It quickly wrapped around the approaching vines, drawing them together and holding them bound.

Ruri'iro Kujkau was admittedly taken aback. He knew Yumichika had dabbled in kido, but he'd honestly believed that, owing to his placement the Zaraki's squad, he had never developed the proficiency to be able to use the methods. Still, it was only a minor distraction. He immediately withdrew the vines, but in the same instant, Yumichika flashstepped in behind him.

"You're finished."

"Finished." Ruri'iro Kujaku felt an inexplicable sense of relief. This would be an easy way to concede the victory to his master without incurring too much humiliation. It might take some time to overcome the embarrassment of being caught out by Yumichika's use of bakudoh. It would almost certainly thrust him back into the position he had been in earlier – hidden away from view within his master's inner world. It would likely end up costing him Hoozukimaru, who had surely gained his freedom by now against Madarame. That was the most painful aspect . . .

But he could not bring himself to unleash the vines again. He could not even bring himself to mount a physical defense.

He simply could not do it.

His master had shown some creativity in his fighting, and that counted for something. But even more so, Ruri'iro Kujaku could not miss the single most important point of what had just happened.

Despite the decades of bemoaning his zanpakuto's kido nature, despite all the hurtful expressions of how he wished he had a zanpakuto with different abilities, the fact was that his master had just been presented with the opportunity to see his zanpakuto depart willingly, with no confrontation. Yumichika could have been rid of the irksome peacock for good. Maybe he could have even brought forth another zanpakuto. Was it possible for a Shinigami to have two soul cutters? Ruri'iro Kujaku did not know, but that did not matter. What mattered was that, given the opportunity to rid himself of his zanpakuto, his master had decided he would rather fight to keep him.

Ruri'iro was not fooled into thinking it was due to any affection on Yumichika's part. In fact, he was quite certain that the only reason his master wanted to keep him was because he needed a zanpakuto in order to remain a Shinigami. And if he were no longer a Shinigami, he would no longer be at Madarame's side.

But that made little difference at the moment. If Yumichika was willing to fight to keep him, that meant he was still wanted on some level.

Paltry reasoning, but for a capricious peacock, it would suffice.

"I'm glad you're as arrogant and ego-centric as I am," Yumichika said. "I wouldn't have stood a chance against you in a purely physical match. You couldn't resist using your unfair advantage."

"We're so disgustingly similar," Ruri'iro said quietly.

Yumichika huffed a grudging agreement. Then, with both hands on the hilt of his sword, he drove the blade with an upward thrust into Ruri'iro Kujaku's back. A flash of light followed, after which only the peacock's swordform remained, lodged into a standing position in the stone.

"You were only partly right about me," Yumichika said. "I'd rather die than have anyone see your true power." A pause. "But that's not everything. What you don't understand, what you refuse to understand is that by not using your full shikai, I have to win my battles through sheer force of will. I don't take the easy victory, and I—I'm stronger because of it. Those are my aesthetics."

His vision drew down to a pinpoint. He felt his equilibrium going.

He collapsed face-first onto the stone tiles.