Hammered Down

by Tomas the Betrayer

A forbidden encounter, a chance conversation. Rukia Kuchiki is about to discover what some people are willing to do for the good of Soul Society.

21. Fox's Prey: Hunting the Wild Hollow

"What… the hell… is this?" Ishida breathed incredulously.

"Stupid… ugly…dirty…!"

Renji glanced up from his place on top of a broken pile of masonry and raised a hand in greeting. "Yoh. What took you guys so long?"

"Knowing the two of them, they were probably busy arguing about who should take the lead," Rukia spoke from her place on the sand beside him. Upon spying the loss of the Quincy's limb, though, her expression morphed into one of concern. "Ishida-san, your arm!"

"It's all right," he hurried to assure her as she rushed over to him, finally able to tear his sight away from the disturbing scene before them. "Unohana-sama healed the worst of it, I just need to… find Captain Kurotsuchi and…"

"Dirty…stupid… ugly…stupid…!"

Against his will, the bespectacled warrior found his gaze being drawn once again off to one side. Together with a dumbfounded Ichigo, he continued to stare.

Swallowing back his bile, Kurosaki managed to utter, "I'm sorry, could somebody please explain…?"

Captain Unohana trotted past him to join Byakuya and Zaraki where they stood eyeing one another warily. Nemu Kurotsuchi and Isane Kotetsu were standing between them, apparently to prevent any words from being exchanged that might be taken the wrong way. Yachiru Kusajishi was hopping excitedly next to a plainly distraught Hanatarō Yamada, who was having no luck preventing her from poking and prodding him in ways that could be considered friendly or just invasive. Mayuri Kurotsuchi was nowhere to be seen.

As for Chad Yasutora…

"Ugly…dirty…dirty…stupid…!"

Catching the looks the newcomers were directing to his left, Abarai cast a glance over to where the remaining member of their party was currently occupied.

"Oh, yeah," he responded carelessly. "About that, you see, this is what happened…"

---

The dumbstruck expression on Yammy's face was replaced by irritation, and he swung a fist lazily into the wall beside him. The three of them turned their attention away from the sudden disappearance of gargantuan spirit power above their heads and back to the enemy at hand.

"Damn!" the Espada grunted. "Here I've been doing nothing but napping and eating, building up some good reiatsu…"

His lips curled in a snarl, and before their eyes the remains of his shirt erupted from a sudden burst of muscle pressure.

"AND YOU LITTLE SHITS ARE ALL I GET TO USE IT ON?"

Renji studied their opponent. He took notice of the '10' tattooed on the left shoulder.

And then he looked over towards the right.

Hey, lookie there, just like Urahara said.

With that, a plan came to mind. Because when you got right down to it, Renji was getting just a little bored with rushing into things and flailing around blind. Time for them to have the upper hand for a change. With that, he coughed quietly, the old signal to get Rukia's attention.

She made eye contact. Abarai shot a glance down at his right arm, then moved his hand and rested it lightly on his zanpakutō's sheathe.

His old accomplice looked appraisingly back at the fuming arrancar.

That unspoken connection that existed between the two of them kicked in, and she understood his plan. Rukia was always quick on the draw with this sort of venture. Time to get things started.

"Either of you two fought one of these Espada before now?" the Sixth squad lieutenant asked casually.

The brutish Hollow's eyes narrowed at his tone.

"Yes," came Rukia's reply. Between them, Chad did not respond. He was concentrating intently on the colossal figure standing before him, one he had challenged before and lost. Everybody knew that miserable story, and his other duel with a member of Aizen's death squad hadn't yielded anything worth mentioning, so he decided to keep quiet on the subject of battles fought.

"Can't say I came out on top in my own tussle, but this guy's obviously the weakest of that crew," Abarai continued, withdrawing Zabimaru. "So that being said, let's be done with him quick and go help our friends, neh?"

Red eyebrows shot up on Yammy's forehead, giving him a slightly quizzical look.

"What's that?" he uttered from deep in his double-timpani-sized chest. "You think that I'm gonna lose…"

And the right arm flashed down to the soul cutter on his hip.

"…TO MEASLY LITTLE FUCKS LIKE YOU?"

"PLEASE FORGIVE US, MIGHTY HOLLOW MASTER!"

The muscle-bound figure paused.

Before him, the tiny shinigami woman had dropped to her knees, raising her hands in supplication. Tears glistened in her eyes, and she was trembling like a wind-blown leaf.

"I BEG FOR YOUR MERCY, ON MY KNEES! IF YOU SEE FIT TO GRANT US OUR LIVES, MY WEALTHY BROTHER WILL REWARD YOU MOST HANDSOMELY! HE SHALL GRANT YOU AN ESTATE IN EACH OF THE QUARTERS OF RUKONGAI, FIVE HUNDRED SERVANTS TO WAIT UPON YOUR WISHES, TWENTY TUNS OF GOLD, FIFTY TUNS OF SILVER, A HERD OF A THOUSAND HORSES WITH MANES THAT SHINE LIKE COPPER, TWENTY BLACK BULLS WITH HORNS OF GILDED IVORY AND HOOVES SHOD IN PLATINUM, A RICH CLOAK STUDDED WITH LAPIZ LAZULI, AMBERGRIS, AND FINE NEPHRITE, A STATUE OF YOURSELF IN PUREST BRONZE, SILKS FROM THE ORIENT, SNOW FROM THE HIMALAYAS…!"

Both the human and the Hollow present gaped at this craven display in utter amazement. They were frozen like statues themselves.

And Renji struck.

Zabimaru extended, transforming into its shikai without his spoken command, as only one who has achieved bankai can do. It streaked across the way while their enemy stood agog at his victim's sudden whimpering fit.

That enormous guillotine blade of a tip was aimed at a specific spot on Yammy's right arm. A place where a thin band of scar tissue stood out on the deep brown skin, running all around the watermelon-sized bicep and triceps.

This was the spot where Ichigo Kurosaki had cut the Espada's arm off in their first encounter.

History repeated itself, as Zabimaru plowed into that exposed weak point, now braced across the giant's chest, and sliced straight through it.

Yammy's arm came off, to swing back and forth from its firm grip on the handle of his undrawn zanpakutō before thudding to the ground. Its owner stared down at this turn of events in complete shock.

As he did, Rukia flashed over the space between them. Her begging had ceased in an instant, and Sode no Shirayuki was now gleaming in her hand. Before the behemoth could respond to any of this, she was at his side. Her sword licked out, cutting the straps of her target which she then pulled free.

The tiny valkyrie danced swiftly away, Yammy's spear-sized zanpakutō and sheathe now clutched to her chest.

"HEY!" he bellowed and charged forth, forgetting about the pain of his mutilation in favor of the more immediate realization that he had been effectively emasculated by this little bitch. As he did, though, Sado Yasutora's armored fist crashed into the bony covering of his jaw.

Yammy staggered a bit, then whipped around and back-handed him with his one remaining arm, sending him flying. The Mexican brawler rolled across the dunes several yards away, and the enraged gorilla continued his pursuit of the person responsible for denying him his full power.

---

"Holy… crap!" Ichigo whispered.

"I… guess it's true," Uryū blinked dazedly beside him. "The arrancar are just like shinigami in a way. If they lose their zanpakutō, they've pretty much lost the greatest chunk of their power. Preventing them from drawing is the simplest way to beat them." A tiny furrow of discomfort appeared between his eyes. "Now why didn't I think of that?"

"Wait," Renji grinned cheerfully. "There's more."

---

It felt like he had broken his hand as soon as he connected with the ugly bastard's face. Apparently his strength had not increased to the point where he could take on even the weakest of the Espada yet. In addition, the brute had then proceeded to fling him away with as little effort as the first time they had faced off. The only noticeable improvement was that he had not been maimed by the attack like before.

That didn't mean it hadn't hurt horribly.

Not just the impact, although that in and of itself had felt like a cement truck and all of its family had collided with his warding Brazo Derecho del Gigante. Some bones might be broken there, along with the ones in his left hand covered by Brazo Izquierda del Diablo. But as previously stated, this was not the primary source of his distress.

For the last fifteen years of his life, Sado 'Chad' Yasutora had lived with the unacknowledged but still secure impression that he could handle anything that people threw at him. His incredible size, strength, and durability had served him well in the face of virtually hundreds of unprovoked physical assaults from the most dangerous, unprincipled and malicious fighters that could be found among the youth of Mexico and Japan. In addition, once he applied himself, he had found that he was more than capable of achieving victory in the face of the exams and assignments that his teachers cared to present to him. He was not a weakling, and he wasn't stupid, no matter what people might think of him. He was a very strong and dependable person, in his opinion.

But ever since his entry into Soul Society, Chad's image of himself had suffered some pretty serious blows. After wading without a scratch through the ranks of the regular shinigami, he had been confronted by Kyōraku Shunsui, First seat of the Eighth division. The laconic captain had proceeded to utterly humiliate Chad in combat, avoiding all his vaunted attacks and swiftly laying the young fighter low without any effort. He had nearly died that day, and it was only due to his opponent showing mercy that he did not.

Things only got worse after this. Upon being released from prison, he had reached the top of Sokyōku Hill, where a mere glance from the silver-haired criminal captain at its peak had served to immobilize him, helpless as a child. A few months later, there had been the fight with Ulquiorra and Yammy, in which he was almost beaten to death and had to be saved by a girl he had tried to protect. Several days after that, he came close to being impaled by an attack from an arrancar that he hadn't even seen coming, rescued this time by Ichigo, who told him in not so many words that he could no longer be depended on in a fight.

Upon recognizing this fact, he had sought aid from Kisuke Urahara, who proceeded to enlist Renji Abarai's help in effortlessly pounding the living crap out of him every day for a few months. They had called it training, and it certainly helped, he had to admit. When they entered Hueco Mundo to rescue Orihime, the first fight Chad engaged in he won handily. The second actually involved him getting his ass handed to him once again, but a sudden revelation about the full nature of his power had allowed him to come out on top in the end.

And then of course, he had been thoroughly bitch-slapped by an Espada, and when the guy decided it wasn't much fun knocking around someone who couldn't put up a fight, he let his little toadie finish the job. So again, Sado Yasutora wound up kissing the pavement. Or sand, in that case.

And what was the result of all this?

Simple. He was sick of being bullied.

Chad had taken enough punishment from spiritual monsters of all different shapes, sizes, and temperaments now. And he was tired of it. So much so, he was willing to do pretty much anything to keep from being shown up as a loser again. He was not a bully, regardless of how he might appear. His grandfather had taught him to never raise his fists to intimidate or weaken others for his own gain. And Ichigo had helped him to find a way to still fight and remain true to that principle. His heart was good. Maybe he simply didn't want to be a burden in this mythic struggle between virtue and villainy. Or maybe, just maybe, what he really wanted was to once more have his friend Kurosaki consider Yasutora to be someone he could depend on to protect the people and things he held dear.

Sado knew what was at stake here. Right now, his home of Karakura was under attack by bloodthirsty demons. A little closer, his friends Renji and Rukia were up against a deranged killer with no compunction about slaughtering them.

And he was lying stretched out in the dirt.

This had to end.

So resolved, the determined pugilist rose to his feet.

A little groggy, but he could at least stay upright. His arms were afire with pain, but Chad ignored this, and it seemed to work. With that, he began to move in the direction of the sounds of combat.

Farther off, Renji had gone bankai. Yammy's iron skin had proven resistant to his shikai aside from that previously exploited vulnerable area. Hihiō Zabimaru now loomed large against the skyline, and swung down screaming at its enemy with tremendous speed and strength. Sado had vast experience in how powerful that thing really was. In spite of this, Yammy still connected with his fist. The snake skull cracked and flew back, shrieking its continued defiance. The Décima then kicked loose of the last remnants of the ice that clung to his legs and took off in pursuit of Rukia again.

The Espada was absurdly strong and durable, but in the end, his speed was nothing special. Even encumbered by the weight of his pilfered weapon, Rukia was able to stay out of his reach. The loss of his arm seemed to have affected his sense of balance as well, and when she dodged lightly away from another lunge, the roaring brute stumbled in the sand and went to one knee, bellowing in frustration.

At this point, the lieutenant had completed his preparations, and fired off his Baboon-Bone Cannon.

The blast lit the entire desert red, and without a doubt there was a remarkable amount of energy behind it. Certainly if Chad had been faced with such an attack, he would have been hard-pressed to survive it. But apparently in spite of being a dimwitted lout of a sentient being, Yammy still had some sense of how to fight. His own Cero managed to pour from his mouth moments before the blast would have hit, meeting the assault full in his face.

An explosion of colliding powers sent sand and smoke up in a geyser, and the earth shook beneath them. Hihiō Zabimaru collapsed in pieces around its master, momentarily spent from the assault. Not five seconds later, though, the Hollow general came charging out of the wreckage. His face was blackened, and his eyebrows and sideburns were ablaze, but he appeared to be otherwise unharmed and even further enraged.

"YOU SCRAWNY LITTLE BITCH, I'M GONNA GET YOU! I'M GONNA GET YOU, AND WHEN I DO, MY SWORD ISN'T THE ONLY THING I'M GONNA STICK INSIDE YOU, YOU HEAR ME, YOU PUNY SLUT?"

Geez, did this guy have a limit on how angry he could get?

As for Chad, that last comment had served to stoke his own wrath.

He wasn't dumb. He was certainly smarter than Yammy, because after all, who wasn't? So he understood what the half-mad Hollow was threatening the Kuchiki princess with.

His grandfather had also taught him that no one had the right to strike a lady, much less force themselves upon one.

I will not let that happen. I will not be proven less than that monster. I swear it, Abuelo. I'm smarter than him, I'm better, I know it. And if it turns out that I'm not stronger, if for whatever reason my own strength isn't enough, then…

Marching towards battle, Sado almost tripped over something.

Looking down, he saw a severed arm, the massive fist clenched in rigor.

I think I'll borrow somebody else's.

That's called fighting smart.

Yammy Rialgo was firing off Balas from his remaining hand in pursuit of Rukia, frothing and cursing insanely, when someone spoke in a soft, determined voice behind him.

"Hey. Ugly."

The inhuman beast swung about with a roar, raising his fist, right before its mate crashed into the side of his face.

The ogre's head snapped violently in the opposite direction of his spin, and the mandible mask remnant shattered. It almost felt like his neck was about to break. When he came back about, shock written large all over his face, it was to see a grim-eyed Sado raising Yammy's missing arm with both hands.

"You looked."

And so saying, the human fighter swung down, bringing the solid hierro-tempered appendage smashing into his hated enemy's skull.

The Espada's nose erupted, sending blood and bone pushing back into his head. For once he was simply too astonished to be angry. He was being beaten, by himself. His own punch. Dumbstruck by the implications, he could only watch in amazement as his weaker adversary hefted the horrific club once again. This time, he sent it plowing into the other side of Yammy's head, destroying the remaining pieces of both his jawbones.

One massive knee hit the sand. His head was spinning, and he shook it violently to try and erase the confusion. Just how in the hell…?

A grunt from before him was his only warning, and the spirit of destruction looked up to see his fist coming straight down again. He tried to raise his arm, but found that he couldn't quite make it in time, and that jackhammer of bone and muscle bashed him right between the eyes.

"Stupid," Sado whispered, sweating and trembling, his own muscles fired with a force that he had never previously experienced. "You're so…" And he connected again. "Stupid. And…" Another massive blow. "Ugly. You're…" Yet again. "Dirty. And stupid." Swing the arm. "Ugly." Crush his skull. "Stupid." Make him stop. "Dirty." Don't let him hurt anyone. "Ugly." Not Rukia. "Dirty." Not Ichigo. "Ugly." And especially not me. "Stupid."

Sado kept right on swinging, even after Yammy had fallen flat on his back and lay staring open-mouthed at the sky. Every curse now was punctuated with a strike to the thing's head. "Stupid… ugly…dirty…ugly…stupid…dirty…"

This went on for some time. For their parts, Rukia and Renji could only watch in morbid fascination.

---

"So that's that. Lucky for us the only part of that dope that didn't grow bigger in the last month was his brain! We're talkin' dinosaur relativity, here."

Lieutenant Abarai leaned back and continued to watch thoughtfully as Sado pulped what was left of the Decima's face into pudding within the bowl of its skull using only his bare hands, having discarded the meat hammer a while back. "No sense trying to stop it, really, might as well let him just work it all out of his system. I mean, this looks like it's been building for a while, we're talking months of frustration here." He turned towards Ichigo once again. "What about you? You kill your guy this time?"

"No." The spiky-haired fighter seemed to have recovered his composure. "He got away, and he took Orihime with him. We have to get out of this world and go help the other shinigami against Aizen. Ulquiorra will be with his boss, I know it."

"That's what we're waiting on." Rukia trotted on over, with her brother Byakuya close behind. She had escorted Ishida to where Nemu waited, staying to observe the lieutenant of the Twelfth apply the limb-rejuvenation formula. Once his pain-filled curses at the procedure were spent, a brief conference with the captains had gotten everyone up to speed. "Right now those two have to come to an agreement of some kind to get us out of here."

"Who?" Kurosaki asked, glancing between the Kuchiki siblings.

Byakuya adjusted his glove officiously. "The Hollow woman and Kurotsuchi-taichou."

His jaw dropped.

"Huh?"

---

The former Tercera broke off from listening to her fracción detailing their personal conflict and turned to regard the outlandish shinigami who accompanied them.

"You killed him?"

"Oh my, yes," Mayuri shot back over his shoulder while rummaging around in the cart. The memory of the deed made his smoky golden eyes twinkle with mischief.

Neliel regarded him intently. She drew in a deep breath, and let it out.

"You look like the type who would make his victims suffer. Was that the case here?"

"Assuredly. You can see the look on his face, if you are so inclined. I have it around here somewhere." He began to poke about for that specific specimen jar in preparation of the unveiling.

"Thank you, no. Knowing it happened is enough for me." Neliel tu Odelschvank picked absently at her white coat which she had stripped off of Nnoitra Jiruga's corpse. That made two down. There was no one left to really hate anymore.

So then, if hatred is out of the question, what is left to motivate me?

"I would like to be of assistance to your group, shinigami captain."

Mayuri looked up from his work. He seemed honestly surprised at the offer.

"My, my. Has no one explained the situation to you? We shinigami are not permitted to truck with Hollows, that's rather what this whole escapade seems to be about. If you would like to offer yourself and your cohorts up as specimens in my research, that I could happily accept." The two arrancar clowns sought protection behind Neliel's solid form, and he continued. "Anything else would only lead to trouble for me, I hate to say."

Apparently this would require some further explanation. "Whatever you ransacked from that little rat's lab, it won't be enough to form a Garganta."

Now Kurotsuchi paused. Without looking back, he simply said, "Are you casting aspersions on my ability to understand new technology? That wouldn't be something I could forgive so readily."

Prickly one. If he had been a Hollow, his theme would have been 'hedgehog'.

"The Octava was a vainglorious pest. I doubt the intervening years did much to change that. Anything you have there might have been of interest to him, but in terms of truly productive work, he actually made only one, maybe two contributions to Aizen's efforts." She moved to stand by his side, and noted how Mayuri quickly pulled the tarp down over his purloined treasures before she could see what might lie within. Quite a suspicious character, in more ways than one. "I would be of more use to you than anything you have there."

"I must admit I'm curious." Those disturbing features, so similar to a Hollow's, revolved to regard her closely. "How would someone such as yourself think to be of service in this situation? You don't strike me as the scientific type."

The skull-capped head cocked to one side. "No, I'm not a scientist. I'm a Hollow. Who better to fashion a Garganta?"

"Ridiculous." And the white-scaled hand waved in dismissal. "I already attempted to force several of your brethren to perform such a feat. The results were unsuccessful. The system Aizen used to close off our efforts seems to extend to the Hollows as well. In short, Hueco Mundo is entirely encapsulated for the present time. No one can enter or leave until I determine how to correct that procedure."

Actions spoke louder than words. With that, Neliel gestured, and in the space between them, a small dimensional tear big enough for one person to stick their head through opened up.

Kurotsuchi slowly came about and studied this endeavor.

"The system you speak of," she explained quietly, "is one that was developed in my time. And it has a loophole. Specifically, the Espada themselves are capable of circumventing it, by passing through a secondary dimension Aizen created for this purpose and then proceeding to their original destination. A two-step trip, instead of one. That's how the top three made their way into the human world when Aizen called them, and it's how Schiffer escaped a while back. Regardless of my misfortune, my status was apparently never officially revoked. Whether by oversight or intention, I'm still the fastest option for getting out of this mess that you have."

He was looking at her now in a way that could only be described as dissecting her with his eyes. Maybe this wasn't a smart move, Neliel thought.

Then the elite shinigami stuck his hand into the open portal, and withdrew it. He flexed his fingers experimentally, and when nothing seemed to register as off, murmured in a far-off tone, "Of course, I must insist on certain conditions being met before I am willing to allow any of my colleagues to undertake such a venture." His clearly mad gaze sought her out. "To ensure your cooperation is genuine, of course. I won't have it be said that I was cozened by a pretty face, now."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't." And she gave him a slight, sad smile.

In response, Mayuri grinned wickedly.

"I'm finding you more interesting, my dear. Let's make a date for experimentation when all this is over."

So now he's interested in me. Wonderful.

Why do I always attract the crazies?

Speaking of which, I wonder how Gin's doing?

---

It was only a slight sound that awoke him, but a soldier's instincts carried over even at home. In these uncertain times, it didn't pay to become complacent.

So resolved, he stole swiftly out of bed, making sure not to wake his wife. A knife under his futon was retrieved just in case. Outside, the rest of the town was quiet. Not even so much as a dog barking in the street. Officers of the law patrolled the lanes even at this time of night, ensuring the peace of the Tokugawa era. He himself was a part of that good fortune.

And when someone was fortunate, it tended to attract envy. Hence the caution.

The warrior crept down the halls of his home. The sound had come from his son's room, that much he was certain of. The infant boy had been put to bed hours ago, but still, he might have come awake again, although usually that involved him crying and making a fuss. Normally he would have told his spouse to go check on their child.

But something felt off.

Sliding open the door to the nursery, he could see nothing unusual. Moonlight fell through the slats of the window. Scanning the shadows, he could detect nothing out of the ordinary.

Taking a step forward, his foot came down in a puddle.

Startled, he glanced down. Water? Bending down to touch it, he found something sticky and warm. When he brought his fingers up into the moonlight, the smell was unmistakable.

Blood.

Horror touched him, and the anxious father dashed to his son's crib.

The awful mess within it caused him to scream like a mad thing.

Turning, he caught a glimpse of movement, and his deranged brain could have sworn there was a flash of red at the door. He tore out into the hall, whipping his head back and forth in search of his quarry, knife at the ready and breath gasping in and out of his lungs.

Nothing.

Looking up then, he found his wife standing at the open door to their bedroom, confusion and fear written large on her face.

She opened her mouth to speak, and blood gushed out.

Before his eyes, he saw her lifted into the air, choking on gore that erupted from her suddenly torn throat. With a cry he ran to her, striving to grasp hold and bring his beloved back to earth.

A blow knocked him down the hall. Tearing through the flimsy wooden screens, his head collided with a support column, and for a moment he lay dazed. Then sharp pain lanced through one of his hands, followed by the other. The same sensation blossomed in each leg. Blinking away the tears, he looked over to see that he had been pinned to the wooden floor.

By arrows.

His own arrows.

From this position, he was forced to watch as the woman he loved was dragged into the room and torn to shreds right in front of him.

He could smell the stink of his own loosened bowels, but it did not register. Unfortunately, his brain did recognize the sensation when sharp fangs tore into his belly. The soldier of the Shogunate died in misery and excruciating torment, but not for a good long while.

A report for this incident pertaining to that particular culprit was filed in a special government storage facility in Kyoto. It shed no greater light on their quarry than all the others.

A similar report was handed over to the Second division in Soul Society, and they knew exactly what they were dealing with.

And so, the Gotei 13 took measures to end the existence of the Hollow code-named Rip Tease.

---

"Excuse me," Daichi spoke softly to the Onmitsukidō member seated near him, "Can I ask you a question?"

The black-clad ninja peered out of his facemask with eyes like a shark. He gave no answer in return. Seated in a small blind on the edge of the glade, both men had been told by their respective heads to remain here unless a call for back-up was made. A joint collaboration between the Eleventh, Fourth, and Second squads, it had taken nearly a year of preparation for this operation to come about, culminating in one carefully orchestrated nighttime attack. As such, there could be no conceivable room for mistakes. The military workings of Soul Society must be respected.

But for all that, the member of the Sixth unit of Squad Four could not keep himself from chatting with his newly assigned partner. He might just be a healer, the lowest in terms of authority of the shinigami world, but Daichi appreciated the value of conversation. Even if this fellow clearly didn't.

"Why do they call this thing 'Rip Tease'?"

Again, an answer was not immediately forthcoming, and Daichi settled back into his spot on the covered branch of a tree.

"Because…"

The healer gave a start when the silence was broken by someone other than him.

"…it likes to torture the prey."

This was the most his silent partner had spoken that night. Perhaps it was time to finally perform introductions.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, I'm Daichi…"

"I know."

A swift cut-off, followed by an awkward pause.

"So… what's your name?"

Silence.

Then, "Fon."

Apparently nothing more would be forthcoming by way of a first name. Still, you take what you can get.

"Nice to meet you, Fon. Have you been a Stealth Forces member long?"

"This is my first mission."

That could have explained his willingness to talk. He was a newbie. Maybe the stress of this venture was telling on him in the same way it was me. Not that you could tell by looking at him. The man hardly seemed to breathe, so quiet and unmoving was he.

"Are you nervous to be given such a big assignment your first time out?"

"No. Eager."

Daichi shifted slightly to get more comfortable, but froze when Fon cast him what could have been a warning glare. Message received. Don't get comfortable. The sight of those gimlet eyes left him feeling like anywhere might be safer than right here. To dispel that unwarranted feeling, he tried talking again.

"My wife is upset I got assigned to this case. She knows how many of us have fallen to this thing. It made for a lot of arguing these past few weeks. How did your family take it?"

Peering out of their enclosure at the dark mountain forest, Fon replied back in a murmur. "They knew it was my duty."

"Oh. Duty. Yes, I understand, as a shinigami you have to divorce yourself from your feelings and focus on…"

"I am not divorced from my feelings."

At this, the man in black turned and regarded his shorter and distinctly weaker colleague, and in his previously unreadable eyes there was now something very intense.

"This is not my duty as a shinigami, it is my duty as a Fon. This filthy creature killed my great-grandmother and my elder brother. We must eradicate it or the shame on our house will not be absolved. That is why I am here."

Daichi stared, surprised.

Off in the distance, the cry of a Hollow was heard.

"Outer and middle ring, this is the inner ring." Daichi flinched as the Tenteikura spell made it sound as if one of their officers was speaking right in front of them. "The target has been sighted in the 16th cordon. The campaign will commence on this spot."

And just like that, the contact was broken.

Both men sat quietly.

"It's here," the medic spoke, surprise in his tone. "It's really here. How did they know where to find it?"

"A month ago we determined this to be its primary territory." Fon had removed his soul cutter along with a collection of knives and was proceeding to sharpen them. "It has a wide hunting range, but even if it goes to Hueco Mundo, it always comes back to the forest region within this prefecture."

His throat had gone dry, and Daichi coughed, feeling more anxious than he could ever remember. "Why?"

"Unknown. Maybe it's searching for someone. Or something. It doesn't seem to have a nesting ground that we can pinpoint. That's why the scope of this operation is so wide."

Daichi shivered, and his thoughts went back to his home in Soul Society, where his wife and newborn son were waiting for him. The image of them sitting together, not knowing whether or not he would return alive, caused cold sadness to settle through his bones. Now more than ever in his life he wished he could see them once again, he wished he could go home.

"I hope I'll be able to help."

The look Fon turned on him was filled with scorn. "And how do you plan to do that, since you have neglected to bring your zanpakutō?"

Daichi flushed. "Well, actually, to tell you the truth…"

"We have lost sight of the target! All units, prepare to be engaged at a moment's notice!"

… Oh, dear.

Life-giver and life-taker stayed where they were. Daichi noticed that his knees were shaking, and hugged them together. Shivers went up his spine. Fon returned his weapons to their hiding places before going back to sitting perfectly still.

"8th unit reporting in, we have found the target and are now engaging! Report to the fifth cordon to…"

"This is the 2nd unit, the target is now in the eleventh cordon, requesting back-up…"

"Ninth, it's in the ninth cordon, all units converge on this spot at once…!"

Both men exchanged looks of similar apprehension.

"What's happening?" Daichi whispered.

"What always happens," Fon murmured back. "It's tricking us."

"T-this is the…3rd unit! We've found the remains of… I think it's the 4th unit, I can't tell…they're dead, all of them…how did it get them all…?"

"We're… losing."

Astonished, the shinigami doctor looked down at his trembling hands. How? How could the splendid tacticians of the Soul Society be outwitted by a mere Hollow? They were trained, disciplined, experienced warriors. It made no sense. What could one fallen soul do against all that?

It was then that he realized he was sitting in the tree alone.

"F…Fon?"

No one there. Darting his gaze about, Daichi could see no sign of his accomplice anywhere in the vicinity.

Where is he? Did it get him? Am I going to die next? I don't want to, I don't want to be here, I want to go home and be with my family, why did I have to be a shinigami anyway?

But I am. And so is he. He's one of us. So I suppose… I had better go help him.

Without giving any thought to their orders about staying put, the death god moved out from behind the cover of his hiding spot and went in pursuit of his accomplice.

---

Fon squatted on a game trail. The signs of animals using this route were old and worn. Apparently the beasts living in this region had come to recognize that they were straying into a predator's vicinity, and had moved on to safer pastures. It was instinct that told them to do so. The same thing screaming at him that he was in danger now.

But shinigami are not ruled by instincts. So with iron control, the scion of his house remained where he was.

"All units, regroup beyond the second line! Perimeter, report any activity, whether confirmed or not! The enemy is somehow confounding our perceptions and…!"

Thank you very much for that notice. Idiots. He couldn't believe that all their preparations had culminated in something like this. They had almost let the bastard go.

Almost.

Fortunately, he was here.

He let such thoughts fade away, and focused everything on his senses. Not just the soul perceptions. That was where he was certain everyone else had made their mistake. Instead he worked through sound, sight, touch and smell. Sifting the textures of the mortal world through his ghostly perceptions. He could tell, through them, what many would have missed. It was coming.

A presence. Drawing closer, announcing itself for him, hidden as he was in the shadows of the forest. Fon drew his weapon. It was approaching from the east, and he moved swiftly to intercept it. Patience. Breathe in. Still yourself.

The sound of movement.

Let it come.

The feel of the trees shifting.

Almost there.

The smell of…

Oh, come on.

Daichi materialized down the way, looking anxiously all about. His needy gaze was filled with panic, and sweat glistened on his skin. Passing through the trees, he searched one way, then the other, apparently quite lost.

Fon exhaled slowly, and stepped out of hiding.

The medic spotted him, and came running over, relief exuding off of him in waves. "Hey there! Why did you leave your post, weren't we supposed to stay in our positions?"

The assassin smiled behind his mask, and said calmly, "I had to take a leak."

His associate paused. "What?"

"You heard me."

Right then one of Fon's hands whipped out and sent a knife burrowing into Daichi's chest.

He screamed.

And exploded in blue fire.

Fon watched this display. At the conflagration's core, there appeared a shadow. The blaze died down, revealing something that was neither beast, shinigami nor human.

Hollow.

It stalked toward him, a perverse assemblage of twisted parts. Sprouting directly beneath the head was a pair of small black arms whose clutching six-fingered talons reached over and yanked the knife out of its shoulder. A silver pelt covered the rest of the body, which had four legs in a configuration that was almost reptilian. Its tail was segmented and ended in a black stinger that practically announced itself to be venomous. The bone mask bore a certain resemblance to a fox, and from within those empty sockets there gleamed red slits of eyes so thin they might not have been there at all. But looking into them, Fon was certain it could see very well.

"You obviously like to hide your true nature," the eager avenger spoke. "I won't ask what became of my colleague, clearly you encountered him after I left. Your magic is clever, kitsune. It even made you smell like him. But you don't seem to recognize that you carry another scent on you. The scent of my family's blood. That is why only I could find you. There is just one thing that can wash that taint away: your own!"

The creature didn't respond, only began to prowl around him. Fon did the same, so that they were circling each other.

"Don't worry," he whispered, a savage grin spreading over his face. "I won't call for any of the others. This is my kill. If Daichi had bothered to respect that, he might have remained alive. I, Dao Fon, will make an offering at his grave, after I'm done with…!"

His brother's killer made no noise when it attacked, but he was ready for it.

Kidō flared, a zanpakutō keened, and the fight began.

---

Daichi was lying on his side, a terrible cold seeping into his body.

While searching for Fon, he had been approached by a wounded man whose bearing marked him as one of the Eleventh. Rushing over to aid his fellow, the devoted doctor had been shocked when something sliced through his jugular, and he collapsed spurting blood all over the forest floor. The medical training he had spent years learning seemed to desert him at this point, and he could do nothing but press his fingers to the wound in a vain attempt to halt the escape of his life. How could this have happened?

Blue flame burned close by, and then Rip Tease was crouching beside him, its feral eyes hungrily feeding on his obvious confusion and fear.

As he struggled to comprehend this situation, one idea alone seemed to take precedence in his mind. When Daichi saw the Hollow reach out with its sharp claws to finish him, he found himself speaking that thought aloud.

"I want to go home."

The black hands paused.

They watched one another for a while, there in that tranquil forest turned deadly perilous.

After a time, Rip Tease remembered how to speak, something it had not bothered to do in what seemed like a very long time.

"Me too."

Then he bent down and licked some of the blood off Daichi's face. By the time he stood up, he had already taken on the appearance of his latest victim. There was no need to deal the final blow with this one, he would be dead soon enough. All that mattered was his escape.

With that, the doppelganger had disappeared into the trees.

Daichi couldn't bother to be surprised by this. He was still thinking about his loved ones off in the land of the dead, anxiously looking forward to his return. A terrible feeling settled over him as he realized that this would never happen. His life had come to an end.

No.

Not yet.

I'm not dead yet. I haven't failed them. There's no need for them to give up hope. Not quite.

Healing energy then sparkled around his palm. More blood gushed out, and he could feel his life-force fading with it. He recognized that were he actually attempting this on anybody else, it would have been obvious to those in his profession that it was a wasted effort. Give up, inform the family, and let friends and drink console you in your grief. However, in this case, the family was his own. And he couldn't bear the shame of thinking how they would react when learning the manner of his death, getting his throat slit and bleeding out like a pig in the woods.

Everyone always laughs at us men of the Fourth. Unohana-taichou says we mustn't take it personally. And I didn't. Because I knew the things they said about us weren't true. Weak. Cowards. Useless. I've heard it all. They even say that about us when we die right beside them out in the field.

Well, not me. My son will not grow up thinking that his father died a coward. I'm not afraid of anything anymore, except that.

And I'm going to prove it.

The wound had closed by this point. But the damage had been done. There was hardly a flicker of spirit power left inside him. There was no way to undo the loss. That alone would be enough to kill him now. But something more was driving Daichi, staving off the end for as long as possible. Until then, he had other things to worry about. And so, without bothering to acknowledge that he was already dead, the death god stood and tottered off into the woods.

---

Less than a minute after the fight began, Dao Fon lay as dead as his brother.

Soldiers, Rip Tease thought to himself disdainfully. They're all the same, thinking everybody's weaker than they are. Even shinigami. Haven't I proved to these idiots by now that I'm not to be taken lightly? To deal with me, they'd better send one of their captains if they want to stand a chance. Maybe I'll beat him too.

Although who knows?

Maybe it'll be a girl.

The thought made him chuckle.

He then swallowed the blood off his claws and departed, leaving the horribly mangled body behind.

---

Daichi was close enough to feel when the battle began, and also when it ended a short while later. His slow, stumbling steps turned in that direction. In what felt like hours to his fogged brain but was actually no more than a few minutes, he came upon the site of the Fon family's duel for honor.

The corpse's skin was cherry-red under the pall of blood, and its lips were pulled back from its teeth in an expression of agony. Poison, the healer recognized. He recalled the information they had collected, and that certainly seemed to fit with the reconnaissance team's findings up to this point. There was no doubt that Rip Tease had been here.

So much for avenging your brother's death. Guess this means I'll have to do some avenging myself.

Looking down, he saw Fon's zanpakutō still held loosely in his grip.

Daichi didn't bother to think that there was nothing special to this blade now, no guardian spirit of any sort since its master was dead. All he saw was a weapon, and the recognition that he himself was without one.

With that, the vengeance seeker picked up the inanimate object, spying a trail of blood leading out of that scene as he did. Heart slowing, life fleeting, he followed it.

---

On his way out of the trap, Rip Tease found himself confronted by a pack of shinigami. Stumbling slightly, making an effort to appear pained and pitiable, he approached them.

"Hey!" A girl noticed him first. Wearing that green band across her chest that signified something he did not know, she gamboled through their group. "What happened? Are you all right?"

Before she could come a few steps, though, one of the others garbed and masked as he now was grabbed her by the arm.

"Who's there?" the man demanded in a tone that dripped caution.

"Fon," the Hollow coughed, secretly delighting in how that last fool had chosen to proclaim himself. "Dao Fon."

"It's Fon!" someone else cried.

"Your shoulder!" the girl gasped as more of their party turned to look. "Did it get you?"

"It came out of nowhere." The actor slumped against a tree, giving an impression of intense weariness. He let a deep and abiding regret sink into his words. "The other man. Daichi. It killed him. Cut me. Then it ran." He noticed how the female covered her mouth in horror at the mention of the name.

"Which way?" One of the other masked fighters, apparently the leader here, spoke out to him.

"East." An auspicious direction. Everybody knew that. Maybe if any of them survived the next few seconds, they might get the joke. Not that he intended to leave one of them alive if he could. Staggering forward, Rip Tease drew closer to his prey.

"Inform the other units!" the leader spoke quietly to his cohorts. "Try and coordinate the sightings to get an accurate reading of its location." Over half of the assembled hunting party then sped away or began performing those ridiculous little chants. Their quarry watched these efforts with mingled amusement and disappointment at losing the chance to kill more of them.

"Daichi…" The girl, a slight, snub-nosed little thing, looked to be on the verge of tears. "Oh, no. I… I knew him. I know his wife and his little baby, I can't…"

She swayed slightly in disbelief, then shook her head, apparently remembering their predicament. Dislodging the hand of her compatriot, she headed over to Rip Tease, who exulted at the sight of his target drawing closer. Removing her green chest strap, she prattled on once more. "Please forgive me, I shouldn't be getting emotional out in the field. Heaven knows we of the Fourth have a bad enough reputation as it stands. Here, let's get you taken care of."

No, he exulted as she approached him, all sweetness and innocence. Let's get you taken care of.

"Do you feel light-headed from any poison? Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Kiyone…" The shinigami looked up from her bag, and her mouth fell open, dark eyes growing wide.

"Yamada-san!" she blurted out.

What?

Rip Tease turned around, just as Daichi Yamada swung his sword and decapitated him.

The disguised body burst into blue flames. An instant later, the torso crumpled, followed immediately after by a spent Daichi. The impact didn't hurt, but before anyone could make a move…

A hideous scream erupted in the night.

Rip Tease's head hit the ground while the rest of it burned away to ash. Coming to a rest, the front of the mask suddenly burst, and a column of turquoise fire shot out, causing all nearby to turn their faces, shielding their eyes. The ghastly shrieking continued without pause.

Daichi did not look away. It was only a few feet from him, so he could see clearly. He alone perceived that inside that burning mask, stretched in agony and terror, was the face of a silver-haired child.

"Don't be afraid," he whispered to it softly, pityingly. "You're going home now. You'll be safe. There's nothing more to fear."

The wailing died out, the mask and its wearer dissolving from this world.

Daichi closed his eyes then.

My wife. Forgive my selfishness. I have to go now. Take care of our child. Tell him that his father did not die in vain.

My boy. Live strong. Find someone to love and have children of your own. Your father will always be proud of you.

I lived as a shinigami, and so I died.

And so, with regret but no fear, Daichi's heart stilled forever.

---

Well away from the others, Ichigo was sitting propped against a boulder, carefully rewrapping the cloth covering around Zangetsu, when Rukia came over and sat down beside him.

"How are you taking it?" she asked.

There was no need to ask what that referred to. The question could have covered a broad range of topics at this time, but he had a feeling he knew what she meant. And right now, he didn't really feel like being snippy with her about it. If he couldn't sum up his current condition, that would just be one more thing to worry over. And so the rebellious teen continued with his ministrations, before stating quietly, "I'm dealing with it."

"Ishida told me everything. I know what happened up there."

"That makes one of us." Some of the bindings looked a little crooked to him, and so he unwound them and started over. No sense in doing a half-assed job, right?

If you can't do it right, you shouldn't do it at all, you WEAKLING!

Ichigo flinched at the thought, then with slow deliberation he shoved the monster down before proceeding with his work. Hopefully Rukia hadn't noticed.

"Do you remember anything, Ichigo?"

Why is she wanting to talk about this now? Jeez, for once, Rukia, can't you just leave things alone? I'm so damn tired.

He didn't say that, though. Instead, Kurosaki replied, "Ulquiorra went bankai on me and put a hole through my chest you could have crawled through without any difficulty. The next think I knew, the hole was gone and so was he."

They remained in silence for a few moments. Her amethyst eyes moved to the idyllic painting that served as a horizon within this coliseum, studying that mirage, perhaps in search of any flaw in its design that would reveal it to be fake. For his part, the substitute shinigami continued what he had been doing before.

Ichigo.

For a moment he was set to smash the Hollow once more, before recognizing that voice. It served to give him the first feeling of peace and relief he had experienced in quite a while.

Hey, old man. I'm glad to hear it's you.

I thought you might benefit from some time alone. Would you like to come inside?

He hesitated, considering what this might mean.

He isn't here now. I could stay quiet and you could think by yourself. Only a few seconds would pass outside. Would you like that?

Ichigo understood what Zangetsu was offering; an opportunity to collect his thoughts, without anyone to trouble him, before heading out into what would no doubt be the greatest battle of his life. And that idea certainly had its appeal. He was feeling rather shaken by everything that had just occurred, more so than he was comfortable letting on even to himself. Ignoring it could prove more damaging and potentially fatal if that experience should arise again.

Yeah. Makes sense.

Thanks for the offer, old man. But I think I really need to focus on what's happening now.

I understand.

You wanna stick around? Contribute to my end of the conversation?

No. That would only distract you. And you need to keep your wits sharp around her.

That's a fact.

…

Hey, wait a minute. Are you implying I'm dull compared to Rukia?

Yes.

WHAT? Are you kidding me? She couldn't even figure out a flippin' juice-box! She's totally naïve, that old grocery-store guy would have conned her into buying his rotten vegetables if I hadn't been there, she brought a window to decorate a closet, she…!

"Are you two done talking?"

Ichigo made an inadvertent squeak, and he stared at the calm composed figure seated at his side.

"How did you…?"

"I have a zanpakutō too, remember? She wouldn't stoop to invading on whatever you were speaking about, but apparently when my name came into the conversation, she couldn't help sneaking a peak. According to her, the serious part of your discussion is over. I thought maybe we could return to ours."

The teen scowled irritably and blew the hair up off his forehead. "Can't I get a little privacy even in my own mind?"

"Your mind is rather crowded," she pointed out, and turned to regard him. The look on her face was not quite condemning, not quite compassionate. Good facial control. Maybe her acting worked on so many people for a reason…

"Ichigo?"

He started. "Yes?"

"Do you know what happened to you on the roof of Las Noches?"

The boy stared at her, trying to find an answer to that question, but nothing seemed to be coming. He didn't feel like pointing out the obvious, so then all that left him with was…

Nothing.

"No," he whispered. "I don't."

"You became a Hollow."

A shiver went up his spine, and immediately he felt the need to refute that statement. "No, no, I didn't! What must have happened was…"

"You were put to death," Rukia continued, cold relentless inflection in every word. "The Espada dealt you a mortal blow, and in the moment before the end you experienced what every living being does. Sorrow, anger, desperation, longing, and terror. You felt these emotions so strongly that they crowded out all the remaining vestiges of humanity from your heart. Between one heartbeat and the one that would have been your last, you gave up on being human, Ichigo."

Suddenly he didn't want to talk about this anymore. What was she saying? No, that couldn't be right, it… it just couldn't!

But apparently there was no stopping her. Like it had to be said. "Just like every one of them you've ever faced. You now know exactly what they felt like at the moment they went from plus to Hollow."

"No, I don't! I told you, I don't remember!" He looked angrily away from her then, feeling as though he might start weeping like a little kid. Why was she doing this? They had to go fight Aizen, didn't they? Why was she telling him this now, it couldn't possibly help. Did she not understand that? Did she not understand me?

"I think it's good that this happened, Ichigo."

Okay. Clearly she didn't.

He turned a befuddled, angry look on her. Rukia was sitting on the sand, hands folded in her lap, face set and stoic. But her eyes held that sad, perceptive look that came over her whenever she was speaking to him on something personal. It made him pay close attention to what she said next, in spite of how irritated he still felt towards her at that moment.

"Up until now, I don't think you've really bothered to stop and think about what separates a shinigami from the rest of earth's spirits."

"I have a feeling I'm about to find out," he spit acidly, regretting it shortly after but being entirely too pissed to take it back.

"It's something my zanpakutō and I have discussed. The quality that we all share, from captains on down, is forgiveness."

"Huh?" Now he knew she was losing it. "Are you serious? You think your brother feels forgiveness when he kills folks? You think Zaraki feels forgiveness?"

"I do." She said it so assuredly, too. "Even Zaraki. You might even say, especially him. When he slays his opponent, do you think that he hates them afterwards?"

"What? I mean… no, I don't." Hard to say if he really hated them before, but still…

"Neither do I. It's hard not to hate your enemies, Ichigo. I certainly can't do it. A lot of the shinigami I know are like that. I think maybe that's where Zaraki has us beat. I don't think he really considers the ones he fights as his enemies. He kills Hollows, and he bears their souls no grudge. That's harder than one might think. You could say that Kenpachi Zaraki is the most basic example of a shinigami that exists. No kidō spells, no need for robes or any of that. Nothing else thrown in. I doubt he's ever performed a konsō for a regular soul in his life, but that doesn't alter the fact that he appreciates what we do differently than anyone else. He fights, his opponent is purified, and he moves on to the next. That's all there is to him. I think he does it because he understands some of what they must be feeling. There are things we don't know about Zaraki that allow him to disregard the normal hate and fear that we feel for the Hollows. And the average shinigami nowadays does hate them. Very much. Because they are the primary threat to our lives, we want to view them as simple, basic monsters that must be beaten. The same way you did before your fight with Inoue's brother showed you that wasn't the case. So that our job becomes that much easier."

Listening to her wasn't helping him understand her point. Was she accusing him of lacking something that Zaraki didn't? Feeling more and more like this was a pointless exercise, Kurosaki settled his chin on his upraised knees and wished she would be done talking, or at least change the subject.

"But now, you have experienced to the utmost what our foes felt at the moment their souls collapsed. You've been there, right along with them. And I think, since you have, you are better equipped to face Sōsuke Aizen and his men. Because you understand now why they were able to take these lost ghosts and turn them into slaves, and why it was so basically wrong a thing for a shinigami to do."

"Rukia," he grimaced, feeling a headache coming on. "What the hell are you talking about?"

In response, she took a deep breath and said, "You've faced the worst that can happen to you personally. You may have become a Hollow, Ichigo, and by doing so come to realize that it is nothing a sane person would willingly choose. But I'll never, ever believe that you'd permit yourself to become what those three are now."

"And what is that?" This had better be good.

"Unforgivable."

Staring straight ahead, Ichigo tried not to think about this answer. Unfortunately, that proved as productive as telling himself to not think about elephants. See? There you go. Elephants.

And along those same lines, just what the hell is she trying to tell me, huh? That I need to be forgiven for something? That I shouldn't forgive them? Granted, there's a hell of a lot that those guys need to answer for in my book, all of them, Ulquiorra, Aizen, everybody. But now that I actually think about it, something tells me they've done a lot more crap than I'm aware of, even if raising a Hollow army and using it to try and wipe out my town and my family is right at the top of the list. And they did it all while they were still respected and praised captains of Soul Society!

So really, what exactly has changed about them? They were bastards then, and they're bastards now. Don't expect me to believe none of you picked up on it. Hell, I took one look at Gin Ichimaru, and I knew there was a guy who should be behind bars where he couldn't hurt anybody! If they needed to have vengeance or justice or whatever done to them, it should have been centuries ago, or however long they've been around. It should never have been allowed to come this far! They ought to have been cut off long before I was ever born. How come nobody did that? Why did you all ignore what a bunch of psychos they were and let them lead you into battle against those Hollows you claim to forgive so much? Hell, if anybody needs to be forgiven, it's all of Soul Society for letting this mess grow to the point where it got dumped in my lap!

Ichigo's nails were digging into his arms, and he recognized that he was getting very worked up about this. He knew she was trying to help him here, she wasn't looking to confuse him or belittle his pain. But dammit, after what he had been through today, didn't he deserve some consideration? Moments before he had been willing to have somebody just point him in the direction of the three traitors and let him fly. Now he was being forced to think about what separated them from him, and what it might mean, and whose fault it was, and whether or not they deserved to be forgiven, or…

His jaw was clenched, and absurdly there seemed to be tears gathering inside his eyes. He didn't want to think about any of this! It was so damn frustrating!

What did she know, anyway, come to think of it? Little Miss Rukia Know-it-all Shinigami, sitting there and going on as if I asked you to teach me something about souls and Hollows! Things have changed! I'm not an ignorant punk anymore, I don't need you to whip out your stupid sketchbook and paint me a picture! When are you going to figure out that you don't know everything? Who are you to tell me about giving up, anyway, huh? You sat around in a jail cell waiting to be murdered by a bunch of stuck-up pricks without even trying to fight for your life! Don't tell me about losing heart, don't tell me about not being human, or I'll kill her!

Ichigo froze.

You heard me, king, do it! Kill the little bitch, don't let her talk to you that way! Put me through her throat, see how smart she sounds choking on steel!

No. You shut up. You hear me?

Don't wanna kill her? Fine! Hit her! Break her nose, crack her jaw, just make her SHUT UP! Look at her sitting there, all proper and clean. Mess her up, why don't you? I can't stand listening to her going off like she knows anything about you and me, what we are, what we HAD, what we would STILL HAVE if that pasty-faced clown hadn't sucker-punched me at the wrong moment!

Be quiet! I don't want to think about that!

But you remember, don't you? After all, it WAS you! You finally saw how things are going to end between us, with there being no more DIFFERENCE BETWEEN US! We were so alive, so complete. We didn't need a reason or a quest, we had everything we needed right there in the palm of our hand, it should have gone on FOREVER!

Dammit, get down! Back in your cage, you bastard, where you belong!

There's no more cage, you dumb shit! There's no more separation! I'm your future, you can't get rid of me! There's no more hope for you! It's over!

No. No, I won't let it. I'll die before I let you take me down.

You can't die, king. I won't LET YOU! Haven't you seen that by now? Where's that hole in your chest, hmmm? Oh, wait, I mean MY chest!

He was crying now. There was a pain in his sternum, and he was scared that if he looked down, he would see the Hollow hole there, bleeding out, letting him know that he had lost once again, that it had all been for nothing. He was weak. He was beaten. His family was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it. I'm sorry. Dad, Karin, Yuzu, please forgive me, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I…!

Hunched up with his head in his hands, Ichigo felt it when Rukia's arms came around him.

It was instinct that compelled him to grab hold and pull her close. He knew that here was a warm, comforting presence, and he wanted to hold onto that as long as it took for all the bad things that had been done to him today to just go away. It was a parent, a sister, a friend. Whatever you want to call it, it was what he needed right now.

Kurosaki clutched the tiny girl in his embrace, tears running down his cheeks as he whimpered and mewled, drawing in shuddering breaths only to have them come out as sobs.

I wish I was home. I want to go home!

You are such a little baby.

"Ichigo."

She said my name.

"Ichigo… I have known you for less than a turn of the seasons. In the last one hundred and fifty years I have met great men, powerful men, admirable men. People who left me awed and appreciative of their qualities, who made me glad to have just been recognized by them, if only for a moment. I have felt privileged to be in their company, and have fought to defend them when need be."

Her hands were stroking through his hair and over his back, and somewhere in his soul, the Hollow growled at this intimacy.

"And now, I have met you. And I have come to know you."

Not as well as I have, Ichigo. You realize that, don't you?

The ache in his chest had transferred to his stomach, where it seemed to settle.

"We both almost died today, Ichigo. That gives a person a great deal to think about. I thought about our hearts. What they are, what they let us believe in. And watching you learn what you could do these last few months… made me see what we all do in a different way. Did you know that we behave differently for everybody around us? When I was sitting in that cell in Soul Society, after I learned you were alive, I thought about myself when I was with you. And after you saved me, I thought about it some more."

Her robe was wet with his tears, but she didn't seem to mind. That was Rukia for you. She knew not to sweat the little things. Like private property, or lying your way out of a jam. It was Rukia at her best, in his opinion.

You're the one lying here. She infuriates you no end. Sometimes it's all you can do not to grab her and slap her and…

"You fought so hard, and gave me a home in two worlds. I had never really known what that was like. Part of it was my own fault, for not realizing it was something I only needed to open my eyes to see. And when that finally dawned upon me, I thought about what I could do to thank you for it. It didn't take long to find the answer."

And Rukia dropped her head so that she might whisper in his ear.

"I realized that I could love you, Ichigo."

In an instant, the body in her arms went stiff. All crying ceased. Rukia held on all the more.

A moment later, his grip slackened. He drew away, and stared at her in open, honest amazement. The teen held on to this presence, this moment. He didn't think about who might see them like this, or anything besides. Nobody and nothing else mattered.

Rukia wasn't smiling. She looked completely and totally serious. "Understand that what I'm saying to you has nothing to do with the war we're about to fight, or my anticipation about whether or not I expect to survive it. Know only that if I live, I will do everything in my power to make your life one that you can live in happiness and without fear."

Fierce luminous eyes, pale skin, that black lock of hair that fell over her nose.

He remembered how she looked right then with utmost clarity. The words she spoke next made sure he would never forget.

"I love you, Ichigo Kurosaki."

There was a moment's pause.

Then she simply stood up and walked away.

The boy she loved sat and watched her go.

Did you hear that?

…shut up.

Yeah. You did. And you know what it means, right?

No.

Don't lie. I can feel how scared you are right now.

Idiot! That's not me, it's YOU!

No. For once, it really isn't me. It's all coming from you. Because you just saw it, didn't you?

Be quiet, king. Shut your sappy little piehole right NOW, do you HEAR ME?

That was my future. Right there, you sorry piece of shit. The same kind of love that brought me into this world in the first place…

NO!

…will be what takes YOU out of it.

YOU! You sorry old bastard, help me stop it! Help me KILL HER! Don't you see? Don't you understand what it means? Without me, he'll die! We'll all of us die! Do you really want that?

Fear of death? Is that what you think can motivate me to your side? How pitiable.

It's the truth! Don't try to deny it! Forget about the damn future, think about right now! That last one wasn't even the strongest of them, there's three more, and that talking asshole Aizen to boot! You think Ichigo can do anything against them without giving me what I want? We've already seen this Vaizard crap isn't going to cut it anymore! We're the same, aren't we? Help me NOW!

And therein lies the difference between the king and you.

WHAT?

Hope. You don't have it. But he does. Even in the face of certain death, Ichigo will look forward to something that will enable him to prevail.

Yeah! ME!

And if you were to lose, what then?

Me? LOSE? Impossible!

Since you cannot answer, I will tell you. Ichigo would fight on regardless. He would fight, because that is what motivates him, his very basest instinct. Have you forgotten even that elementary lesson, the first one he used to bring you to your knees?

IMPOSSIBLE!

That's what they all say. Hopeless creatures like you. Remember Ulquiorra, how he reacted when Ichigo wouldn't give up even in the face of his full strength? He recognized that all his power would not be enough to get him what he wants. When next we meet, that realization may just prove to be his undoing. But we will endure.

Words. It's just words, you know. If you keep following this holy hero crap, it'll only wind up getting us all killed.

As long as we still win, that is acceptable.

You fool. You stupid, heedless fool. Death means you LOST!

Not if you were fighting for something other than just to win. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?

It's BULLSHIT!

You know your future, now.

Shut up! I don't know anything like that!

When the time comes, try and face your end with a modicum of dignity.

It'll never happen.

Nothing lives forever, you know.

I do. I can.

Off with you, now. The adults have things we must discuss.

…fuck you all.

And with that, the monster vanished into the darkness of his soul.

Ichigo.

Yeah?

How do you feel now?

He considered that question.

Like I can take on the world, old man.

That's what I like to hear.

---

The Shinigami War Party of Las Noches and Affiliated Entities watched in anticipation. After making some adjustments and last-minute calculations, her collaborator gave her the signal, and Neliel made a gesture. The clear sunlit sky before them suddenly opened up like a wound, displaying a pure black void. Another two such pits then formed beside it.

"Now then," Captain Kurotsuchi clapped his hands, positively vibrating with academic interest. "As you can see, we once more have a means of vacating this inhospitable clime, and in record time. Are you all thoroughly impressed?"

"A most timely accomplishment, Mayuri-sama," Rukia spoke up from beside Ichigo. He glanced down at her questioningly.

"You're a genius, Captain Kurotsuchi." That came from Renji, and the orange-haired ruffian shot him a look that clearly said, 'What the hell, man?' In response, the lieutenant raised his tattooed eyebrows laconically, as if to say, 'What? Anything to keep this whacko happy so he doesn't get pissy and drop us into Hell.'

Mayuri bared yellow teeth in satisfaction at this perfunctory but undeniable praise. "Splendid! Now, on to other matters." He ran a hand over the glowing crystal ball before him, and the portals widened further. "Owing to the fact that I do not completely put my faith in anyone whose nervous system I don't own, and to limit the possibility of an ambush, we are taking this trip by three different routes."

Odelschvank didn't seem bothered by this offhanded slight, though her fracción casually made identical rude hand gestures at the shinigami scientist from one side.

"This indirect method we are using is the same our enemies employed, though with some personal modifications. There will be no need for any of you to concentrate on forming reiatsu bridges, that task will be overseen on my end. This means you will not have to deplete yourselves any further before entering into the battle site. Bear in mind," and he raised a finger warningly. "You will be dropped directly into the middle of the fight, through the barrier that has been erected around the facsimile of Karakura. There is no way to tell what might have transpired in the time since the showdown began. I take no responsibility for what happens to you after you are out of the Garganta. Know only that your journey to that battlefield will be as precise and peaceful as a walk down the street."

"Stop using sissy words like that," Kenpachi grumbled where he squatted. "You'll spoil the mood."

"So then," Captain Unohana spoke up. "All that remains is for us to divide into three parties and proceed. Captain Kuchiki and I have already decided on the arrangement." She stepped out in front of the group and turned to regard them all. "Abarai-fukutaichou, you will join your captain, Kuchiki-chan and Yasutora-san to be the first through." These four slowly moved together. "Ishida-san, Zaraki-taichou, Kusajishi-fukutaichou, and Yamada-san will comprise the second."

Ichigo flinched a bit and cast a look down at Rukia, but she was already moving away from him. Speaking out could lead to some uncomfortable questions vis-à-vis her brother Byakuya, so he decided not to bring it up.

"Finally, Kurosaki-san, you will accompany me and my lieutenant so that we may see to your replenishment before the fight."

Wait a minute. The math in these groups was a little off. "Hey!" he perked up then. "What about Nel? And for that matter, what about Mayuri and Nemu?"

"How did you just refer to me, you dolt?" Mayuri hissed, clearly distraught at the informal manner of address.

"Welcome to my world," Byakuya Kuchiki spoke as he strode regally toward the dimensional vortex.

"These parties were determined in terms of total reiatsu, not numbers," Retsu replied to the question, "And for reasons of security in regards to the Garganta, Kurotsuchi-sensei and his lieutenant will remain behind with the young lady and her men to ensure that nothing goes amiss during our transfer. Once we are safely across, he will join us on the other side."

Ichigo glanced uncertainly over at the green-haired Espada. Call him old-fashioned, but the thought of leaving her here practically undefended with the devilish doctor didn't sit too well with his sensibilities. In spite of the way she looked right now (and the way it made certain parts of his body react without his consent), he still couldn't shake the impression that she was no more than a child in need of protection.

Feeling his eyes upon her, Neliel looked over and favored him with a smile.

The next thing he knew, she had glomped him in one of those fiercely possessive hugs.

He gagged, feeling things grinding unpleasantly within his body (not to mention what was grinding rather pleasantly against him). "Lucky bastard," he clearly heard Renji mutter, and desperately he chanced a glance over to see how Rukia might be responding to this situation. She had her back turned, whether by chance or choice. However, before he could concoct anything by way of an explanation, his affectionate attacker's voice murmured in his ear. She sounded completely calm.

"No need for worry, Ichigo. I'll be fine here. Surprisingly enough, I know how to deal with dangerous men. Just don't ask any questions when I get there, and take care of yourself until I do."

Just what the hell was that supposed to mean?

"Ichigo…"

Huh? He stirred. Something in her voice had changed, and Nel drew away a bit, her slate-colored eyes staring purposefully into his own. She looked more apprehensive now than when she had been fighting Nnoitra.

"You need to promise me something."

"Er…" Who could say where this was leading? Not I. "Okay. What?"

"When you get there…" and she took a shaky breath before proceeding, "Please watch out for Ichimaru."

Come again? Why that guy in particular, he was just about to ask. But at this point she drew away from him, and went back to rejoin her cohorts before the question could be put to her.

"All right, then!" Kurotsuchi trilled. "No more time for risqué behavior. Prepare yourselves for the ride of your lives!"

---

Renji Abarai sat on what appeared to be a flying carpet composed of pure spirit power. The tunnel of nothingness down which they flew was headed towards a bright light off in the distance. So far nothing untoward had happened. All the same, he knew exactly what they were going to find once they got where they were going. And it wouldn't be nearly as sedate an environment as this. To prepare, he drew Zabimaru, checking the blade for any sign of distress. Nope, everything seemed to be all hunky-dory.

A slight angle of the blade then, and he could see Rukia sitting next to her unflappable brother in its reflection.

Get your head in the game, brother. We can't…

…afford to waste time thinking about your love life…

Or lack thereof.

I was just wondering. Does she look different to you?

Let us see. Hmmm…

No.

It's something I can't put my finger on. She looks… I dunno. Calm? Focused?

How is someone supposed to look…

…before a battle? Shaking and scared? You know her…

…better than that.

It's got nothing to do with the fight. I think something major happened for her after we split up. More than what we went through, and it changed her. She looks…

What?

Spit it out.

Dangerous.

This thought apparently caused both of his guardian spirits to hold their tongues, whether from surprise or concern. For his part, the determined dogfighter continued to study his longtime partner with an intense scrutiny that would have been slightly embarrassing under most circumstances. Now, however, the sight of her filled him with something akin to peace.

She's worth fighting for, he thought to himself. I know that I never told her that before, but when all this is over, that's exactly what I'm going to do. And then I'm going to prove it.

Another tilt of the shaft, and Byakuya's face came into view.

To everybody.

---

"Rukia."

She blinked when he said her name, and glanced over at him attentively.

"Yes, Nii-sama?"

"Are you well?"

Her lips parted slightly, and there was a tinge of confusion in her face, or perhaps hesitation. Byakuya knew a great deal about reading his adopted sister's moods, no matter how she might try to hide them. He had a long time to practice watching her from afar, after all.

"I'm prepared for what we have to face, Nii-sama."

She had chosen to take his question in reference to what lay in store ahead of them, but he had meant it in terms of what was behind. That might have been a tactful request that he let the matter drop.

But now was not the time for tact.

"You killed one of their generals." This was something he wanted to be clear on beforehand.

She didn't appear proud at such an accomplishment. Hurt, and shaken. It was upsetting to have Rukia appear this way as a result of his prodding. He had hoped, after their newfound relationship that had resulted from her trip to the world of the living, that he would never have to see her distressed by being near him again.

During his recovery from the injuries sustained on Sokyōku Hill, he had found more than just Yoruichi being willing to approach him again. Following the reconciliation with his first lover, Rukia had started showing up to his sickbed as well. This was nothing like his visits from the cat-goddess (and there was a particularly disturbing thought. Yoruichi had mentioned it in that context, she had claimed by way of a joke, but her sense of humor was of the piercingly aggravating type). His sister had, for assuredly the first time ever, looked at him without any trace of fear.

When he had awoken that first day, to see her sitting calmly beside him, he almost hadn't recognized her. She had been dressed in her shinigami uniform, and he had the distinct impression that Rukia was watching over him while he slept, to make sure that nothing and no one would harm him. The first attempts at conversation had remained somewhat awkward, filled with unspoken wishes and blocked by painful memories. But knowing what she meant to him in his heart, he had persevered, and apparently he meant enough to her to do the same. They had talked quietly at first about small things. What was happening in the clan, how she was dealing with being the head of the Kuchiki now, and what their respective squads were involved in. He had already received such reports from Renji and his household staff, but hearing it from her was something of confirmation. Not to the veracity of their statements, but to the impression he had taken away from them, however they might have actually intended it to be, that his temporary replacement was doing quite well for herself at this time.

He had complimented her on that; tersely, of course, so as not to display any improper affection. And he had found, somewhat surprisingly, that Rukia had a charming tendency to blush whenever he spoke well of her. Charming, and alarming. If this was how she looked when she was happy, then he would have to take steps to ensure that none of the past or present suitors who had expressed interest in her should ever see it. If they did, it would only serve to heighten their diabolical interest in her. No, this was something that must be encouraged properly, in controlled settings, where there was no risk involved. He would make sure of that. After all, his duty as her elder brother was to see that his little sister was kept clear of the designs of wicked and unscrupulous men.

Especially teenagers.

With orange hair.

And foul mouths.

And overinflated egos that made him want to have them caned to within an inch of their lives in front of a crowd of onlookers while he sat sipping tea and watching the clouds go by.

But seriously, Byakuya had come to cherish the new life he was living with Hisana's sister. He had slowly come to the realization that he hardly ever thought of her in those terms anymore. She was not just an obligation to his long-lost wife, or someone who bore a distressingly strong resemblance to her. This was Rukia, his sibling and fellow shinigami. Both of these roles were therefore developed to a much greater and more comfortable extent than ever before. They had participated in certain artistic enterprises that had left him appreciative of her talents, and her for his. He had agreed to Rukia's suggestion that he sit in on one of her training sessions with her fighting instructor, Ayasegawa, and contribute to the proceedings. Her brother had done this without mentioning that he had veritable months of recorded footage of such contests, so this could hardly be considered his first time as an observer. Some things were best left unsaid. It was done to protect her.

He loved her.

This was not in an impassioned or improper way, of course. It was more the sort of affection that one extended to those people who had proven themselves to be a blessing in your lives at every turn. Parents, or close friends. Or a sister. Upon reflection, there were several times in his past that he felt he had not done enough to show his parents how much he truly cared for them. Byakuya Kuchiki was resolved that there be no further such lapses concerning Rukia. She must never feel a surfeit of compassion from him. He would protect her.

And he would kill anyone who threatened her, in any way.

Hence his execution of the disgusting creature that had sought to defame and murder her back in Las Noches. That had been done swiftly and with more malice than he might have originally intended. But the only living witness to that display of his temper had been sworn to secrecy. Isane Kotetsu knew what would become of her if he happened to learn that her sister Kiyone had been using her information dissemination skills to spread such a rumor. The consequences would be dire.

This was war they were in. And greater than his desire to see justice done to the vile reprobates behind it was his determination that Rukia come through it unscathed.

So he had to say…

"You did well in defeating that opponent."

And there was the blush. Swiftly he made sure that no one else could see it before proceeding. "However, in the battle ahead, you realize that there will be enemies of a stature that you cannot handle on your own. I do not want to see you taking a cue from the Kurosaki boy and attempting to vanquish every opponent single-handed. Remember your position as part of the Gotei 13. Work with your allies. Fight with them to achieve victory. Glory is something only idiots of the Eleventh are concerned with. Do you understand?"

She nodded in confirmation. "I do, Nii-sama. I will remember my training, and see to the safety of my compatriots."

"Very good."

---

Not for the first time, Uryū had to wonder what exactly those two shinigami captains had been thinking when they lumped him in with this lot. A more disappointing collection of errant misfits he had not seen outside of a middle school cafeteria. Dressed in his pristine Quincy raiment in the midst of all these grimly-dressed death gods, he felt like a disco dancer at a funeral.

Flexing the fingers of his newly-restored hand, Ishida suddenly heard a giggle beside him.

Turning, he found himself being ogled by the cotton-candy-haired child lieutenant of the Eleventh.

She was sucking on a lollipop and twisting absently from one foot to another, never taking her eyes off him. A smile could be seen on her wet candy-coated lips. Another giggle came from her, and her eyes sparkled with something he was not sure he liked seeing in anyone, least of all a kid.

Suddenly Yachiru popped the confection out of her mouth and extended it out to him.

"Want some?"

"Ahhh…"

He was just about to refuse, when suddenly, the dark-draped mountain seated at the head of their transport quaked. That spiked head turned, ever so slightly, and one wide yellow eye glared a baleful warning directly at him.

Of a sudden Ishida experienced the sensation of being picked up and broken over someone's knee like a twig.

He blinked and shook his head. Damn 'killing intent' illusions! He hated when that happened. However, the lanky magician was not stupid enough to disregard its meaning. And so, suppressing any shudders of revulsion, he leaned in and gave the gleaming lollipop the briefest possible lick.

Kusajishi's face glowed and she hopped up and down, stuffing her treat back into her mouth. She then went humming and bouncing over to where her savage protector crouched, crawling up his robe one handful at a time. When she reached the summit, he distinctly heard her say in piping childish tones, "He's pretty, Kenny!"

A disturbing groan was Zaraki's only response, and Ishida found himself scooting as far away from that crazed killer as he could. Doing so brought him into the company of Hanatarō Yamada, who apparently had the exact same idea a while back.

"H… hello," the shinigami whispered timidly, as though fearful speaking in his normal voice would draw the captain's ire.

"Hi."

The ninety-pound wimp curled in on himself like a pill bug. "I really wish I could have had some say in which party I went with. I don't know what Unohana-taichou was thinking, putting me in here with them!"

"Agreed." Ishida took off his glasses and polished them unnecessarily, just for something to do while they waited. "I think we actually might have been safer back with Kurotsuchi."

"She does have a gentle touch," Yamada sighed.

"What?"

He glanced over suspiciously, and his ally twitched.

"Eh… I-I mean, a gentle look…about her… is what I meant to say."

He was fingering a spot on his stomach. Something told the Quincy that he did not want to delve too deeply into the meaning behind those words. So instead he settled for redirecting the conversation.

"Do you know how long a transport like this might take?"

"No." The shinigami shook his head. "We usually travel by way of the Senkaimon and hell butterflies. I've never gone through a Garganta before today. And on our trip to Hueco Mundo, I was too concerned about what we might find when we came out."

"What awaits us at the end of this tunnel might be just as unpleasant."

"You don't have to worry," Yamada offered quickly, attempting to put on a comforting face. He had been told by many of his patients that he had no talent for this, but practice makes perfect. "Because of the spiritual displacement pillars, your hometown is now safe in Soul Society, so all the people you love are under our direct protection. Aizen and his Hollows will never get past the captains to reach them. You can count on it!"

Apparently this human was as unaffected by his attempts at cheer as his fellow spirits, so instead he chose a different tactic. "So, do you have… family in Karakura? Brothers and sisters?"

"No," Ishida responded tersely. "I am an only child."

"Oh. Me too." He twisted the fabric of his shihakushō between his fingers, his melancholy eyes drifting off to scan the side of the tunnel. "My father died in the field a long time ago, when I was just a baby. He was from the Fourth, like me, but he's actually somewhat of a legend in our ranks. He single-handedly killed a Hollow that had slain over a hundred shinigami. Of course, he died doing it, but all the same, my mother and I never lacked for anything after that. It was partly due to his legacy that I managed to become the Seventh seat in my company."

Uryū was not exactly disposed to discussing respective parentage, so instead he merely said, "I was taught by my grandfather."

"Was he a good teacher?"

"The best."

A nod of understanding. "That's good."

"Your Twelfth squad captain had him killed, and for that he will die."

Conversation stalled at that point. Nothing was said for a while.

Then the archer stirred.

"Yamada-san…"

The death god started. "Y-yes?"

"What your captain said earlier, about how we were divided up… was that really done for a reason?"

He sounded rather intimidating somehow. Of course, Hanatarō was used to being overwhelmed, but usually it was the result of being confronted with much bigger, scarier-looking people. This guy wouldn't have been someone he would have figured could make him quake like this, but you learn something new every day.

"I… think so. It's the reason Urahara-san gave for when he had us take four separate gates as well. He said that in order to maintain a level of secrecy for our arrival, and to prevent any possibility of the tunnel's integrity becoming distorted by all our reiatsu, we needed to proceed in small groups."

"I see." The boy remained silent.

After a few more seconds, though, he spoke again. But quietly this time, like he was debating with himself.

"Tell me something. Sōsuke Aizen has been building up an army in Hueco Mundo for years now, yes?"

"Er… centuries, by our current estimates."

"And he supposedly has amassed a sufficiently large force to challenge the might of the entire Gotei 13."

"We're afraid so."

The archer's glasses flashed. "So then answer me this. When we arrived in Hueco Mundo, where exactly were they?"

"Who?" Yamada glanced around in confusion.

"The army. Of Hollows. While we were there, we didn't actually meet too many of them. And there certainly wasn't a sign of any large force gathering."

"There… wasn't?"

"No." Ishida now turned to regard him directly. "There wasn't evidence of them anywhere. On top of that, according to what Neliel told us, once Aizen sealed off Hueco Mundo, only Espada would be able to move about freely. But she said she felt the three that were unaccounted for open a way out just a few minutes after he left. And considering how powerful they are, if the theory that Urahara mentioned about spatial distortion holds for them too, there was only a limited amount of followers Hollows that strong could safely bring over with them. So that means, if the army was still back in Hueco Mundo, they wouldn't have any way to leave. Right?"

"I guess not." This was starting to sound more and more disturbing. Just what exactly could it mean?

"So then…?"

Yamada gazed at him blankly.

"What?"

"If Aizen has gone to start a war on Earth, why didn't his entire army go with him?"

"I…"

They stared at one another.

"I don't know."

"Neither do I." Uryū turned and glared ahead of them. "And that worries me."

To be continued…