Chapter 28 The River
"You don't even walk my road.
Can't find where you turned.
Looked away and you were gone.
Now we're on our own.
Old man, is this why we're alone?"
You
John Lodge
Yumichika was mildly surprised to find that Ruri'iro Kujaku was not in the maroon room. After everything that had transpired in the past eight hours, he had expected to find the kujaku waiting for him, ready to sooth and comfort.
Only, this time it would likely be the reikon who was in need of comfort. The re-entrance of Ikkaku into Yumichika's life was going to necessitate a few changes, the foremost among them being the limitation of Ruri'iro's access to the outside world. Even though the two of them had addressed the matter before, after so many months of almost unlimited freedom, the restriction would come as a hard blow. Yumichika was not looking forward to the discussion, especially after Ruri'iro Kujaku had been so good to him, during both the search and the rejection.
He would wait a few more seconds before summoning the zanpakuto. He knew Ruri'iro was capable of detecting his entry into the inner world; so if the reikon failed to appear, it would not be due to lack of knowledge of his master's presence.
But that fear was put to rest in the next moment as Ruri'iro Kujaku glided into the room.
"Master!" The kujaku was downright ecstatic, and his buoyancy surprised Yumichika. The last time he had seen him, which was only a few hours ago, they had both been troubled and melancholy.
"I have exciting news!" the peacock announced, alighting in front of Yumichika and putting his arms around him.
Yumichika looked up at him with an inquisitive expression. "I didn't expect to find you so happy. What is it? What's happened?"
The reikon's aura was swirling like a whirlwind, the colors fairly bursting with intensity. He spoke slowly, his voice deep and brimming with enthusiasm. "Madarame has a zanpakuto."
Yumichika wasn't sure he'd heard him correctly. "What?"
"Madarame has a zanpakuto," Ruri'iro repeated, and Yumichika could almost see the smile on the kujaku's face.
Yumichika stared at him, mouth agape and speechless.
"Remember I told you that I was sensing another presence around Madarame?" Ruri'iro went on. "I was right. There was someone else. It was his zanpakuto – just like you suspected!"
Yumichika shook his head, bemused. "I—I didn't think that—are you sure? How do you know?"
"I've seen him! Well, I've seen his image, and we spoke with each other!" Ruri'iro was so excited, he could barely put the words together.
"How? How?"
Ruri'iro Kujaku released him and twirled around like a dancer. "How? I don't know how!" he laughed joyfully. "I just . . . another zanpakuto! Madarame's zanpakuto!"
"Ruri'iro—"
Ruri'iro spun about the room, joyful energy radiating from him to the point where the whole place was growing brighter.
"Ruri'iro Ku—"
"I can't believe I've found someone like me—"
"Ruri'iro Kujaku!" Yumichika raised his voice authoritatively. "Come here and calm down."
Instead, Ruri'iro swooped forward, swept his master up, and soared into the darkness.
"What—what—what are you doing?" Yumichika demanded.
"Sharing my happiness with you!" Ruri'iro replied. He was moving faster than Yumichika had believed possible, coming to the reed bed of waving peacock feathers. Here, he dropped down and in one seamless motion, rolled his master onto the ground, laughing and kissing him with abandon. His passion was boundless, and it flowed out of him with the force of a raging river.
Yumichika could not catch his breath. He actually had the sensation of being smothered, which brought forth a gasp of urgency.
But Ruri'iro Kujaku did not let up. He ravaged his master's body as only he could until Yumichika lay limp and breathless beneath him, lolling in the warmth of the most glorious defeat imaginable.
Yumichika could not understand how the reikon did it. Even the most fulfilling sexual encounters of Yumichika's life could not compare to the love-making of this extraordinary being – a love-making devoid of the sexual act, but with a physical and an emotional intensity that could not be rivaled.
And although Yumichika and Ruri'iro had been intimate and passionate before, this exchange had been on a whole new level. When, at last, the reikon lay still atop his master, the latter finally was able to regain his breath. Exhausted and drained from having done absolutely nothing other than be the recipient of his zanpakuto's attention, Yumichika had to gather what little strength he had remaining to make even the slightest return of the affection he had just received. He managed, after a long minute or two, to raise one hand to gently stroke the small of his lover's back, and here he stopped.
His fingers were not feeling the feathery texture to which they were accustomed. No, they were running over skin – smooth, warm skin.
Yumichika opened his eyes. The air around him was glowing blue-green. He raised his head onto the clarity that he had so longed to see again. But as he took in the sight of Ruri'iro Kujaku's body against his, he suddenly felt light-headed. The reikon was, for the first time, fully naked and fully human in appearance; and even though Yumichika was only seeing the perfect line of his back and the powerful curve of his buttocks, the sight was too splendid to be borne.
What he had only dreamt of before was now there in front of him, and he could not even think to react. He laid his head back down; his hand dropped once more to his side. He couldn't even move. He didn't remember why he had come to his inner world or even what he and Ruri'iro had been speaking of before the ravishment had begun.
He felt movement on top of him, and in the next moment, Ruri'iro Kujaku was looking down at him in perfect lucidity. The violet eyes were soft and adoring. A doting smile animated the flawless mouth. The blue-black hair fell in unbound cascades of stunning effulgence.
Yumichika could only stare and command himself to keep breathing.
Ruri'iro Kujaku brushed his fingertips over Yumichika's lips, the wonder of exploration infusing his touch.
"My beautiful, beautiful master," he whispered, leaning in for a kiss.
But the kiss ended before it had even begun.
Yumichika fainted.
He could smell the scent of cassia, balsam and spikenard. It was his favorite incense blend. It had a soothing effect on overwrought senses.
Had he been overwrought?
He thought for a moment.
Yes. Yes, he definitely had – in more ways than one.
When Yumichika opened his eyes, he was back in the maroon room.
Sitting beside him on the bed was Ruri'iro Kujaku – once more obscured in his halo of light.
"Nooo," Yumichika groaned.
"I'm afraid so," Ruri'iro replied. His voice was kind and tinged with humor.
"But—but you were just—I could see you," Yumichika insisted.
"I warned you long ago that you would not be able to handle seeing me without my raiment," the reikon reminded him. He paused and with a tone of consideration, stated, "Of course, it wasn't my intention to reveal myself at all. It just happened. I suppose I was so overcome with joy that you were able to see me in my most basic form."
"Your . . . most basic? That was your most basic form?" Yumichika was incredulous.
"Well . . . yes. The feathers might be what comes most naturally to me, but my basic appearance is the one you just saw. I have a body like yours, even though I'm not human," Ruri'iro explained.
"What about your sword form? And your shikai?" Yumichika asked.
"My sword form is hardly basic," Ruri'iro sniffed. "My appearance in that form may be simple, but the interior existence is complex. As for my shikai, that is even more advanced."
"Couldn't you—couldn't you just appear to me the way I saw you that day by the stream?" Yumichika implored.
"If I knew how to do it, I would," came the resigned answer. "But I don't control that. It just happens."
"And this time it happened because . . . because you were so excited—"
"About Madarame's zanpakuto!"
Yumichika sat up and held his head. He still felt a little woozy.
Incredibly enough, as anxious as he was to address the topic of Ikkaku possessing a zanpakuto, he was also feeling a peculiar pang of . . . could it be . . . jealousy? Or was it merely disappointment? The moment of clarity they had just shared had not come about through any incitement on his own part. He'd played absolutely no role in it. He'd only been fortunate enough to appear in his inner world at the right moment to reap the benefits wrought by someone – or something – else.
"You should lay back, master," Ruri'iro cautioned. "You've been through a lot lately."
Yumichika brushed off this advice. "I'm fine. So, tell me exactly what happened. How can you be sure Ikkaku has a zanpakuto?"
The reikon was so excited to tell his story that the words poured out of him like water rushing over a fall.
"I was waiting for you to come to me, and all I could feel was this overwhelming sense of . . . brute strength and raw power. I don't know why, but somehow I knew that it was the presence I'd been sensing around Madarame all these months. It was . . . it was . . . intoxicating." He paused.
From the reikon's motions and the deepening of his colors, Yumichika could tell his zanpakuto was still suffering from that inebriation. That prick of jealousy stuck him again, this time with a little more force.
Ruri'iro Kujaku continued with his story. "The next thing I knew, I was heading for the shrine—"
"Why the shrine?" Yumichika asked warily, knowing that the structure was the core of Ruri'iro Kujaku's power.
Ruri'iro shook his head. "I don't know. Instinct, I guess. When I got there, I was thinking, trying to figure out what I was sensing, and I heard a voice. And then, in one of the mirrors floating outside the shrine, I could see him. I could see him! He told me he was Madarame's zanpakuto."
"How can you be sure he was telling you the truth?" Yumichika asked doubtfully.
"I just am," Ruri'iro answered, completely self-assured. "He knew about Madarame. He talked about him. He talked about you!" Again and without warning, the kujaku sprang up from the bed and zipped about the room like a shooting star, leaving a trail of sparkling reiatsu in his wake. After several seconds of the laughter-filled spectacle, he returned to Yumichika, still sitting on the bed, looking on in bewilderment. "Don't you see, master? This is the answer we've been looking for! Once Madarame discovers he has a zanpakuto, then he won't care if you have one, too!"
"Ruri'iro—"
"You'll be able to show me to him! You won't have to hide me anymore!"
Yumichika stared at him. "Kimi—"
"And I'll have someone else I can communicate with, so I won't be so demanding when it comes to your time! Master, it's perfect! It's all perfect!"
"Kimi, slow down—"
"You could help Madarame discover—"
"Be quiet for one second, Fuji Kujaku!"
Ruri'iro Kujaku fell immediately silent. His halo took on a crimson hue, and he shifted away from his master.
Yumichika drew in a deep breath. "I'm sorry, kimi; but you wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise."
"I hate when you call me that name," Ruri'iro sulked, the joy and excitement of only seconds ago now completely gone.
"I hate it, too," Yumichika replied. "But this is a serious matter, and you were getting carried away. We need to talk about this."
"I thought you'd be happy about it," Ruri'iro pouted.
"If it's true, then yes, I'll be happy," Yumichika said, "But it just seems . . . we need to be careful. Tell me what he said."
Ruri'iro looked at him bleakly, the wind gone from his sails. "He just told me he was Madarame's zanpakuto," he answered, deflated and dejected.
Yumichika sighed. He had hurt Ruri'iro Kujaku's feelings, and now he was probably not going to get any useful information. He was going to have to let the syrup flow.
"You said he talked about me," he put forth. "What did he say?"
"He said you were the best thing to ever happen to Madarame."
Yumichika's smile was filled the false sweetness his thoughtlessness now necessitated. "That's probably true. What did you tell him?"
The reikon shrugged and turned away. "Nothing."
Yumichika came and stood behind him, rubbing his arm gently. "Kimi, please don't be angry. I'm sorry for calling you that. I'm just . . . I'm worried about you."
This statement shocked Ruri'iro Kujaku. "Worried about me? Why?"
"I just want to make sure you're not—you're not falling for some kind of trick—"
"Listen to you," Ruri'iro said, his voice uncharacteristically caustic as he turned to face Yumichika. "You sound like Madarame."
"What do you mean by that?"
"He doesn't believe you when you tell him there's no hollow." He paused. "And you don't believe me when I tell you I've met his zanpakuto."
"It's not that I don't believe you," Yumichika insisted. "But I do think it's something I should check out. If some other being is able to penetrate your world, that's not—"
"He didn't penetrate it. I told you, I only saw him in the mirror. That's how I spoke to him, as well."
"Then show him to me," Yumichika said, couching the statement as a suggestion.
"I don't know if I can," Ruri'iro replied. "I didn't mean to contact him, and I'm not sure if I can do it again." A pause. "And even if I could, I wouldn't show him to you. The first person to see him should be Madarame. "
"But you've seen him," Yumichika pressed.
"I'm a zanpakuto," Ruri'iro defended. "That's different."
"What's his name?" Yumichika asked.
"That's also between him and Madarame."
"Do you know his name?"
"Yes. And he knows mine. He knows a lot of things," Ruri'iro said.
Yumichika was silent in deliberation. The idea of Ikkaku having a zanpakuto was not far-fetched. The likelihood that Ruri'iro Kujaku could communicate with that zanpakuto was also not outside the realm of possibilities. More and more of the peacock's kido-based skills had come to light over the years. This could easily be one more of those abilities.
It was not something Yumichika could dismiss. Ruri'iro Kujkau would not make up such a story, which meant he had, indeed, encountered someone. Just who that someone was – that was the question.
Yumichika winced inside. He did sound like Ikkaku. In not trusting his own zanpakuto, he was denigrating their entire relationship. Of course, there was one glaring difference in their situations. Ikkaku thought Yumichika was lying to him, purposefully deceiving him. Yumichika simply thought Ruri'iro Kujaku was being fooled.
Now, that was idiotic. If anything, Ruri'iro Kujaku had a better feel for the workings of the inner world and all things kido. It was much more likely that Yumichika would fall victim to some manner of deception than Ruri'iro Kujaku.
He would trust him. He would trust him but remain vigilant. Now, when everything hung in the balance, when he appeared to be on the threshold of regaining a life with Ikkaku, Yumichika could not take any chances.
"If you're right," he began carefully, "what do you think I should do? Should I tell him?"
"No," Ruri'iro answered right away. "He will have to come to know his zanpakuto on his own, but you might be able to give him some hints, point him in the right direction."
"I don't know how I'd do that," Yumichika said.
"Just . . . keep an eye out for openings and then encourage him," Ruri'iro suggested. "Just think how wonderful it will be when Madarame has his own zanpakuto, and you won't have to hide me anymore!"
Again, Yumichika spoke with caution. "His zanpakuto is also kido-based?"
Ruri'iro Kujaku seemed taken aback. "I . . . I didn't sense that he was."
Yumichika sighed. "Kimi, it's not just the fact of having a zanpakuto—"
"I know that," Ruri'iro cut him off impatiently. "I know he despises kido, but if he has his own zanpakuto, maybe that will make him less likely to care about kido." Even as he said these words, the recollection of Hoozukimaru rose in his mind. Everything about the zanpakuto had been brute force, an overpowering physical presence. His beauty had lain in the simplicity of his energy – physical strength. No more, no less. Ruri'iro Kujaku found himself growing excited again at the very thought. It was only his master's voice that prevented him from springing off in jubilation again.
"It may turn out that way," Yumichika was saying. "We'll have to wait and see. In the meantime, you're going to have to stay hidden."
Ruri'iro Kujaku only nodded.
"I know you understand, kimi," Yumichika said, his voice more like a plea than anything else.
The kujaku was resigned to the situation. It was the same disappointment he had suffered countless times before, but its impact never lessened. Only this time, he did have something that would mitigate the loneliness.
"Maybe I can use the time to know Madarame's zanpakuto better," he said.
Yumichika did not like the sound of this. Whether out of caution or jealousy, he simply did not like the idea of Ruri'iro Kujaku consorting with another being. "Kimi, I don't know if—" He could feel the reikon's mood sink. "Okay," he conceded. "Just . . . be careful. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."
"Where are we headed?"
"I don't know. Who cares?"
Yumichika frowned. Clearly, any attempt to initiate conversation was going to be rebuffed. He and Ikkaku had left the thicket two days ago. They'd continued in a generally westward direction, staying to the fields and forests, avoiding any main roads. On the evening of the second day, they came upon a wood-cutter's hut. The place was clearly inhabited, but as it was empty upon their arrival, they scavenged a few things to eat and went on their way.
On the fourth day, their wanderings led them to the top of a wide mesa of sparse vegetation and colorful rock formations. Nearly three weeks later, descending the far slope into a wooded stretch, they spotted a river in the distance; and even though neither of them spoke the words, this landmark clearly became their destination.
It took another four days of steady moving to reach it. Coming to its eastern bank just before midday, they were both surprised to find that it was at least four hundred meters wide as far as the eye could see in either direction. There were no bridges, although the water was so slow-flowing that a ferry could have made it across. But there were no ferries. There were no settlements along the banks. This stretch of the river was uninhabited.
"What now?" Yumichika asked. "Do you want to cross it?" These were the most words he had spoken at one time since leaving the thicket. He had done his utmost to be accommodating and unobtrusive, but each kindness on his part had been met with a stark coldness on Ikkaku's.
The same held true now. Instead of replying, Ikkaku tied his sword tighter at his waist and waded into the water.
Still standing on the bank, Yumichika simpered. He knew Ikkaku's pigheadedness should not surprise him; but still, he found it nothing short of a marvel that Ikkaku had decided to cross at such a wide stretch of the river, instead of looking up- or downstream for a narrower crossing. True, the water was slow – therefore, probably deep; but the fall rains had not started yet, and the latter part of the summer had hosted drought conditions, so this spot was probably as safe as any. Only it would be along swim.
He watched as Ikkaku moved into deeper water until it became clear he was no longer walking but swimming. Ikkaku might be able to cross fully clothed, but that was because his attire was nothing more than a sleeveless kosode – and a threadbare one, at that – that barely reached below his privates. Yumichika had already decided that as soon as things got a bit smoother, replacing the disgusting piece of clothing would be at the top of his list.
But unlike the kosode, Yumichika's kimono was too heavy to wear into the water. Even though he was an excellent swimmer, it would have weighed him down too much; and he did not want to take the chance in uncertain waters. He disrobed and wound the kimono around his head like a turban. He used his obi to fashion a strap for his zanpakuto, which he slung over his shoulder.
He followed Ikkaku into the water.
Just like his running, Ikkaku's swimming was lumbersome and graceless.
And humorous to Yumichika's eyes. He had stayed behind Ikkaku the whole time, deeming himself the better swimmer of the two and wanting to remain in a position to render aid if Ikkaku suddenly found that his choice of crossings was a bit too much to handle. But as Ikkaku passed the halfway point, Yumichika found his vantage point was not only useful for keeping an eye on him, but for entertainment purposes, as well. Ikkaku made even plain, old swimming look like a water fight.
"Stop fighting the current!" Yumichika called out. "It's slow, so it will only take us a little downstream! Just go with it!"
Ikkaku shouted back something unintelligible, which Yumichika decided was probably a good thing, knowing Ikkaku's temperament these days.
A few strokes later, Yumichika heard the unmistakable rumble of thunder. Craning back over his shoulder, he saw the approach of a line of black storm clouds. The fall rains that had been heretofore absent were now sending forth their vanguard. The thunderheads were still far enough away that the rest of the river crossing could be made in safety, as long as there were no problems.
And then the problem came.
It started as a slight tingling through every part of Yumichika's body. It took several seconds for him to realize that what he was sensing was a foreign reiatsu. And his own intuition detected a hostility that caused him to shout out a warning only seconds before a spouting wall of water erupted from the river between him and Ikkaku.
Through the shower of foam and chaos, he could make out a towering figure rising from the water. Its lower body was obscured in the river; but its torso, while humanoid in appearance, was covered with glistening yellow scales that bled into black around the waist. Its head could hardly be called a head at all. The top of the body narrowed almost to a point, where a horrifyingly human face glared out from tiny eyes, and a bulbous tongue spewed forth a venom that made the water boil and hiss.
It had at least six arms that Yumichika could see, each set a different length, all of them thrashing wildly at the air and the water.
But that was not what made Yumichika's heart go cold.
The creature had a great hole in its chest.
It was a hollow.
And suddenly the mystery of why this part of the river was so empty became clear. The locals must have known that a hollow inhabited this area, and they'd stayed at a safe distance. Only foolish travelers, unfamiliar with the area, were at risk.
Yumichika strained to see over the roiling, frothing water.
"Ikkaku!" he called out. He received no answer, but an instant later, he watched as the hollow snatched at something in the water.
When the hand came up, Ikkaku was in its grasp. He had somehow managed to unsheathe his sword and now he drove it down like a spike into the beast's hand.
The hollow's roar was enough to shake the trees and buffet the water.
"Ikkaku!" Yumichika screamed, unheard over all the commotion. He began swimming towards the fray as the hollow plunged its fist and Ikkaku into the water and held him there. It was going to drown him.
"No! No!" Yumichika's progress through the water was swift, but he would not get there in time to do anything before Ikkaku succumbed. He tried to use the speed move, but he could not manage it in the water.
"Ruri'iro Kujaku!" he shouted. "I need you!"
Inside his head, he heard the reikon's voice. "Master, what are you doing? Swim away! Get away from that thing! That's a hollow! If he sees you—"
"Shut up!" Yumichika ordered "Get me over there!"
"Master, I don't—"
"Get me over there!"
Nothing happened.
"Damn it, Ruri'iro Kujaku! Get me to him or he's going to die! If he dies, I'll never forgive you! You'll be fucking alone, because I'll never forgive you!" It was the first time Yumichika had ever used such language, and he would use it again if he had to. If cursing and making threats was the only way to get Ruri'iro Kujkau to help him, then that was what he would do.
Several more seconds passed.
Yumichika could not believe his zanpakuto had abandoned him. "You bastard! I hate you! I hate—"
In a flash of light, the colors changed. Before Yumichika could even collect his thoughts, he was swept up out of the water and deposited on the far shore. Ruri'iro Kujaku stood before him, his halo burning like a bonfire.
"Use me," was all he said before vanishing back into his inner world.
There was not a second to lose. Yumichika drew his zanpakuto at the same time as using the speed movement to make one powerful step that landed him on the hollow's arm – the one holding Ikkaku under the surface.
He brought the weapon down with more force than he even knew he possessed, severing the hand from the arm and bringing a cry of agony and outrage from the hollow. A violent movement threw him into the water as the condemned soul spewed more of its poison, and the water grew hotter. Soon, it would start to boil.
Yumichika searched for Ikkaku and was about to dive below the surface when he saw, through the spray and choppy waves, a hand reach up from the darkening water. A moment later, Ikkaku's head broke through the surface. Right away, Yumichika could see that he was injured and flailing. Slipping his zanpakuto through his fundoshi, he swam over and caught Ikkaku just as he was about to go under again.
And now?
He was back in the water again and unable to do the speed move. It was a long way to the bank, and they would never make it swimming before the hollow killed them. And Ikkaku was in bad shape, gasping for air with lungs half-filled with water, blood pouring out of several wounds.
And then something caught Yumichika's eye. Something else was floating on the surface not more than ten meters away. A few seconds' scrutiny revealed the grotesque truth. It was the creature's severed hand being tossed about in the soupy mix. Disgusting or not, it floated; and that was all that mattered at the moment.
Yumichika swam over, and keeping a hold on Ikkaku, he climbed up and then pulled Ikkaku up after him.
"Ikkaku? Ikkaku!" He straddled his back and pumped the water out of him a few times until the danger in the river reclaimed his attention. "Ikkaku! You have to hold on!" He meant this literally and even closed his own hand briefly over Ikkaku's to emphasis the need to stay put on the gory raft. "It's going to get rough."
Ikkaku looked up at him with an awkward, sideways glance. "Yu—Yumichika . . . "
"Just hold on," Yumichika said. "I'll be back." As he leapt off, an unspoken, "I hope", rose unbidden in his thoughts.
His first order of business was to try and lure the hollow further upstream. If they fought here, Ikkaku's raft might be overturned, or the hollow might turn the water into a scalding cauldron, again endangering Ikkaku's life. The only problem was there were no outcroppings, no sandbars, nothing for him to land on in the river – either upstream or downstream. The banks were too far away to be effective. And so the speed move was once again not possible.
The other option was to keep the hollow occupied long enough to allow Ikkaku to float far enough downstream to be out of danger. Yumichika knew of only one way. It was repulsive, and he didn't even know if it would work—he had never had the opportunity to try it out on a hollow—but if a hollow were a corrupted human soul, then it was possible that there might be something inside this creature that could still be reached on a carnal level.
Given what had happened the last time he'd let loose with his seductive powers, the fear of using them now rivaled the fear he felt for the enemy he was facing. He landed on the point of the hollow's head, immediately pressing his hands into the scaly flesh in search of a fast grip, and focusing his concentration.
An initial burst of outrage from the creature turned quickly into hungry greed. Yumichika shuddered. He could actually sense some remainder of the soul that this hollow had once been, and it was not pleasant. Avarice. An absorption with worldly goods. An abiding sense of superiority and elitism. A soul who had believed himself too good for death.
And now he lived in the river. His river. No one would cross. Not here, at least. Of all the things he'd once possessed in the world, now he could claim only this.
The hollow reached up one its five remaining hands and took hold of Yumichika, pulling him violently loose from his purchase, and bringing him down to look at him. One glance into Yumichika's eyes, and the creature was riveted.
Yumichika had kept his arms free, Ruri'iro Kujaku still gripped tightly in his right hand. He spared a quick glance over his shoulder to see Ikkaku floating slowly away. Another minute or two . . .
"Master, what are you doing?"
Ruri'iro Kujaku's voice disturbed his concentration for only an instant. "Not now," Yumichika warned, incredulous that the reikon would pick this moment to question his actions.
"This is crazy! Just release me and kill him!"
Yumichika could not afford the distraction. He blocked the zanpakuto.
Down on the river, Ikkaku had coughed up most of the water. His lungs burned, and his entire body ached. He knew Yumichika had put him here, but now where was Yumichika? He struggled into a sitting position and turned to look back upstream. What he saw plunged him right back into the water. Yumichika in that creature's hand meant Yumichika was in trouble.
But so was Ikkaku. His zeal had been genuine enough, but his body knew better than he did when it had reached its limit. And not only that . . .
His sword was gone.
He must have lost it in the water, and who knew where it was now? He'd never find it.
No breath, no strength, no sword. What good was he going to be in this fight?
He managed only a few strokes before realizing he would drown before ever getting close enough to be any help. Maybe, at least if he returned to the raft, he could cause a commotion and draw the hollow's attention long enough for Yumichika to attempt an escape.
But it was too late.
Yumichika had already seen Ikkaku floundering again in the water, and that was all he needed to decide that it was time to take action. Ikkaku might not be as far away as Yumichika would have liked, but it would have to do. Ikkaku would not survive a waiting game in the water.
Yumichika drew in half a dozen anxious breaths. He was going to do it. He was really going to do it.
He extended his sword arm.
"Saki . . . saki . . . "
His seductive intensity now abandoned for use of his zanpakuto, he discovered that the hollow had quickly recovered from its fascination. The hand around him tightened, and he cried out as the breath was forced from his lungs.
"Master, use me! Use me! You're going to die! Use me!"
Hearing Ruri'iro Kujaku's voice in his mind meant that the reikon had broken past the barriers placed on him; and of all the emotions Yumichika could have felt at that moment, oddly enough, the one that pushed him to act was anger. Anger at the power of a being who called him master, but who was a servant only by his own will. Anger at his own impotence on any level other than seduction. Anger that, no matter how strong he became, Ruri'iro Kujaku would always be stronger.
"Sake! Fuji Kujaku!"
The blade on his katana obediently took on the familiar scythe shape and separated into four blades. But no further. No vines came forth. Yumichika had been counting on this very thing;and now, he brought ithe blades down across the hollow's forearm, scoring four deep gouges. The hollow released him immediately; and as Yumichika fell towards the water, the hollow grasped at him with its other hands, missing each attempt. Yumichika plunged into the churn below, and as he sank with the force of his fall, he lashed out with his sword, ripping lines into the flesh of the hollow's leg.
He anticipated the same attack Ikkaku had fallen victim to, and when the creature reached into the water to grab him, he neatly sliced off the fingers. While still under the water, he assailed the hollow again with two more slices towards the groin area.
The hollow bellowed and fumed and beat its chest with its remaining arms. Then it swept a powerful hand through the water, sending Yumichika upstream in a tidal wave of water, sediment, and the mud and rock of the riverbed.
Yumichika was tossed head over heels, finally crashing head-first into the water at least three hundred meters away, close to the east bank. He came to the surface gasping for air and struggling blindly towards the shore, Ruri'iro Kujaku still clutched firmly in his hand in a partial release state. His foot touched something hard and rocky. It was part of a long, broken line of submerged rock, but it was too riddled with cracks and ankle catchers for him to walk on. He continued swimming but then something prodded him in the side below the waist. His hand went down and came into contact with a smooth, rounded surface. A tree limb. Blinking the water out of his eyes, he turned just in time to see a dead tree, mostly rotted but still solid enough, rear up out of the water. The piece of driftwood had been carried along in the hollow's wave, and now it had caught in a crevice below the surface and was being forced up by the swirling flow of the water.
Yumichika tried to scramble around it, but the force of the water pushed him into the tangle of branches. He heard something crack, and one entire side of the tree collapsed across the water, trapping his legs between the rock and the tree. He began struggling to get loose, but he was pinned fast. He looked up to see the hollow approaching. His struggles grew more frantic.
The hollow's movement sent high waves in Yumichika's direction, sweeping over his head, and grinding the tree against him. He was barely able to draw breath between one wave's subsiding the next one's coming. After the fourth wave passed, when it had cleared, Yumichika raised his eyes to see the creature reaching down for him.
Yumichika had never had tremendous strength, but at that moment, his adrenaline was pumping, his reiatsu flared, and his physical strength burgeoned to something even Ikkaku would have been proud of. He raised the zanpakuto over his head and brought it thundering down with both hands onto the part of the trunk, at least half a meter thick, holding him in place.
It split in half, and Yumichika pulled free. He raised the weapon again and sliced across the hollow's arm, buying himself enough time to use the tree as a spring board. He leapt up to drive all four blades into the beast's face, taking out one eye.
The hollow screeched as it clawed at its injured face. It staggered for a moment, lost its footing, and then went careening into the river, sending up another flood of raging water, this time downstream. Yumichika, leaping down, got caught in the wave and was once again carried along, tumbled and pummeled and beaten.
Ikkaku , having returned to the raft, saw the hollow fall into the water. He saw the tidal wave coming, and he saw Yumichika disappear into the water.
And there was nothing he could do.
In seconds, the wave swamped his morbid flotation, and he was swept away down the river.
"Master? Master?"
Yumichika drew in a breath that culminated in a fit of soggy coughing. He felt a warmth in his chest; then as the pain began to subside, he opened his eyes onto altered colors. Ruri'iro Kujaku was leaning over him. It was his hand resting on Yumichika's chest, imparting his healing touch.
"Ruri'iro Kujaku," Yumichika choked out. He sat up slowly, rubbed his head, and drew in several slow, deep breaths until his mind suddenly cleared, and he jumped to his feet desperately. "Where's Ikkaku?"
Ruri'iro Kujaku motioned with his head down the river.
Yumichika's eyes grew wide in horror.
On a sandy reed bed along the bank not far from where Yumichika now stood, Ikkaku lay face-down and unmoving.
"I-Ikkaku . . . " He could barely say the word, then it exploded from his lips as he started slogging along the bank towards him. "Ikkaku!"
He dropped to his knees and once again pressed the water out of Ikkaku's lungs. But this time, Ikkaku did not wake up. Yumichika rolled him onto his back and checked to see if he was still breathing.
He was.
But that wasn't all. A deep bruise was forming around a patch of crushed skin on the side of his head above the left ear. His left shoulder was clearly dislocated. And a deep gash cut him open from hip to ankle.
Yumichika began tearing strips from Ikkaku's tattered and bloody kosode to use as bandages, but there was too much blood. He would not be able to stop the bleeding. He worked feverishly, but to no avail.
In desperation, he called out, "Ruri'iro Kujaku!"
The colors changed once again as the zanpakuto materialized before him.
Yumichika looked up at him with eyes emblazoned with fear. "Help me!" he pleaded.
Ruri'iro Kujaku stood still, his aura radiating something cold and close to callousness. "What should I do?"
"You—you have to heal him," Yumichika said. "Nothing I do helps. Please, Ruri'iro Kujaku, please!"
"Don't you mean, Fuji Kujaku?" the reikon bridled, making no move to assist.
Yumichika could not believe his ears. Was Ruri'iro Kujaku going to make something of this right now? Yumichika had no time for such self-centered foolishness, and neither did Ikkaku.
"That doesn't matter right now!" he chastised. "I need your help!"
It was then that he noticed Ruri'iro Kujaku was holding two items in his hands. One was Yumichika's kimono, ripped from his body during the fight. Yumichika hadn't even noticed his own nakedness, having lost even the fundoshi somewhere along the line.
The other item was . . . Ikkaku's sword.
Ruri'iro Kujaku had somehow managed to salvage the weapon.
And it gave Yumichika an idea.
"If he dies, so does his zanpakuto!" he blurted out. "Isn't that what you told me? If I die, so do you! So, if Ikkaku dies, so will his sword!"
Ruri'iro Kujaku was stunned. His master was speaking the truth.
In the peacock's anger over what his master had just done to him and his gleaning of an opportunity to put the whole miserable situation to rest through Madarame's death, he'd not stopped to consider the obvious.
Ikkaku's demise meant Hoozukimaru's demise.
He felt as if he'd been hoodwinked, even though he knew that was not the case. The situation had been forced upon him, and now he had to make a choice. His anger was joined by a sad resignation. He did not want to lose Hoozukimaru so soon after meeting him. He did not want to lose Yumichika, despite the hurt he had just suffered at his hands.
"They'll both die!" Yumichika was still pressing anxiously. "Is that what you want?"
"I don't know what I can do," Ruri'iro Kujaku stated. It was an honest answer.
"You can heal him . . . like you healed me," Yumichika replied.
In egotistical fashion, the idea had never even crossed Ruri'iro Kujaku's mind. "I—I don't know if I can do that. My spirit energy is . . . it belongs to you, no one else."
"But you can try," Yumichika insisted, his voice dropping to an agonized plea just above a whisper. "He'll die otherwise. It's worth trying."
"But I—what if I end up killing him? Or—or—he doesn't want my reiatsu! He hates everything kido—"
"Kimi, please!"
The kujaku hesitated, more uncertain now than he'd ever been. He could try to save Madarame. He might even succeed. If he didn't try, he would most certainly lose his master.
"Very well. I'll try." He began to recede into his world, leaving Ikkaku's sword and Yumichika's kimono behind. "Release me."
Yumichika had expected Ruri'iro Kujaku to heal Ikkaku in the same way he had healed him on many occasions – through the laying on of his hands. And so, he was hesitant about following Ruri'iro Kujaku's instructions, but his desperation won out. He stood up, drew his zanpakuto and spoke the words.
"Sakikurue, Ruri'iro Kujaku."
This time, instead of the vines springing into life like wild, uncontrollable animals, they opened into delicate, filmy strips, like woven gossamer threads, glowing blue and waving gently in Yumichika's hand.
Now, he only had to direct them; and a simple thought was sufficient to do so.
As they stretched out to wrap around and envelop parts of Ikkaku's body, Yumichika suddenly felt a jolt of panic. What if Ruri'iro Kujaku had fooled him? What if—what if he were about to drain the remains of Ikkaku's spirit energy? He almost pulled back, but then the vines began to pulsate quietly, as if dancing to their own soundless music.
Yumichika could see the bruises fade before his eyes. He saw the bleeding slow and then stop. He heard the sound of labored breathing grow easier and clearer, and watched as the shoulder slid back into place. It was amazing, and he very nearly lost himself in the wonder of what he was observing. But when he saw Ikkaku's arm move slightly, he quickly recollected himself. He could not let Ikkaku see what was healing him.
"Return, Ruri'iro Kujaku," he ordered.
The zanpakuto obeyed him.
Yumichika knelt down beside Ikkaku and prodded him back to wakefulness.
Ikkaku's first words, upon opening his eyes and seeing Yumichika looking down at him, were typical. "What happened to you?"
Yumichika smiled. Tears of relief welled in his eyes, but he did not let them fall.
Ikkaku went on. "You look like crap."
The smile grew even broader. "That's the thanks I get for saving your life."
"You didn't save my life," Ikkaku grumbled, struggling to sit up, then hacking and coughing once he was upright.
"Yes, I did," Yumichika replied.
Ikkaku eyed him sideways. "Yeah, you did," he admitted. He paused and a shrewd look came into his eye. "And I know what I saw. You've got a lot of explaining to do."
Yumichika brushed this aside. "Later. Right now, we need to get away from the river. I didn't kill it. I just injured it, and it will probably come back after us even angrier than it was before. Come on, can you stand?" He reached out a hand.
"Are you going to go naked from now on?" Ikkaku asked.
Yumichika blushed, retrieved his kimono, now stained and torn, and got dressed. He also picked up Ikkaku's sword.
"This belongs to you," he said.
A surprised expression of gratitude crossed Ikkaku's face. "My sword. I thought—I thought I lost it in the river."
"Well, here it is – but why don't I carry it for now?"
"I can carry my own sword."
"Suit yourself."
Yumichika handed over the weapon and helped Ikkaku to his feet. They began walking, heading away from the river. They were on the east side, the same side from which they had come, although considerably downstream. They moved away from the water on a perpendicular course, trying to put as much distance between them and the hollow as possible before night fell.
But Ikkaku could not stay on his feet until dark. Or even until dusk. Even with Yumichika's arm about his waist, he was exhausted and in need of rest. About three hours after they had set out, he could go no further. They took shelter in a bamboo copse, oddly out of place in the deciduous wood through which they were passing, but the ground there was clear and it was as good a place as any.
No sooner was Ikkaku down than he was out.
"Thank goodness," Yumichika said to himself, sitting down and flopping back against a small clump of rocks. Now that they had moved out of harm's way and Ikkaku was in no longer in danger for his life, Yumichika's mind was racing with all the events of the day. He had a lot of things to consider – the most important of which was Ruri'iro Kujaku's behavior. Not just what had happened at the river, but for the past month.
From the moment they'd left the thicket, the zanpkauto's main concern had seemed to be re-establishing communication with Ikkaku's presumed zanpakuto. While this distraction kept him from chasing after his master's attention, it also had the unforeseen effect of making him considerably less responsive to his master's authority. Not once – not once since leaving the thicket had Ruri'iro Kujaku answered his master's voice on the first summons. Whether it was Yumichika simply calling to him for conversation or actually entering the inner world, Ruri'iro Kujaku seemed to have lost his zeal for his master's company. On top of that had been the kujaku's frustration that he had not been able to find the means to communicate again with other being. This had made the reikon surly and moody. Even his master's presence had seemed to do little to abate Ruri'iro's growing impatience.
None of which sat well with Yumichika.
It was bound to come to a head, and there on the river it had.
On the river, the kujaku had been grudgingly obedient and clearly under duress – hesitant, obstinate, and dangerously jealous.
Yumichika was not going to tolerate it.
Not surprisingly, upon entering his inner world, Yumichika found the maroon room once again empty.
"Ruri'iro Kujaku," Yumichika summoned. He waited half a minute with no response. "Ruri'iro Kujkau!" This time his call was more forceful. And still the reikon did not appear. Now, Yumichika was one stop short of furious. He'd had enough of being second fiddle in his own inner world.
He took off for the one place he knew he would find his zanpakuto: the shrine.
Coming to the shrine's entrance, he paused to collect himself. He did not want to burst in angrily and cause a scene. He needed to establish who was in control. He took a deep breath, straightened his battered kimono, and stepped inside. Right away, he saw Ruri'iro Kujaku kneeling in the center of the flower mosaic in the altar's place. The fact that the reikon made no move at all upon his master's arrival told Yumichika that he was so deep into whatever he was doing that even the immediate presence of his master could not pull him away.
Before disrupting him, Yumichika went to the shrine windows and looked outside. He saw no mirrors at all. No other beings or images. Only the vines rotating silently.
He returned to the reikon.
"Ruri'iro Kujaku." He clenched his fists. "Ruri'iro Kujaku!"
At last, Ruri'iro Kujaku looked up, as if emerging from a dream. "Master. I didn't know you had come." His voice was distant, restrained.
"Yes, well, that seems to be happening a lot lately," Yumichika groused.
Ruri'iro crossed his arms. "A lot? It only happens when you come to see me, which is rarely."
Yumichika could not argue with that, but the truth of the statement only added to his annoyance. His zanpakuto dared to complain about something so minor after what had just happened at the river?
"I don't want to talk about that," he said.
"No? Then what do you want to talk about?" the reikon volleyed. "Do you want to talk about how much you hate me? Do you want to talk about that hideous name you called me? Do you want to talk about using my power to heal Madarame? What is it you want to talk about, master?"
"I want to talk about what happened on the river," Yumichika replied, maintaining his calm in the face of Ruri'iro's taunt.
"I'm listening."
"I asked you to help me, and you wouldn't do it until I threatened you," Yumichika told him.
"What are you talking about? When did I refuse to help you?" Ruri'iro demanded.
"When that hollow was drowning Ikkaku—"
"I did help you. Why wouldn't I? Do you honestly believe that I would refuse to do as you ask, simply because Madarame is involved?" Ruri'iro challenged, keeping his voice both aloof and mocking.
"Yes!" Yumichika cried. "Because you're the most jealous, childish, spoiled brat in all of Soul Society!" He waved his arms about the room. "Like this! Like right now! Ikkaku almost died! I almost died! But here you are, trying to make contact with something that may not even exist, as if that's more important than anything else! You—you—you made sure to find that sword after the battle, but then you didn't want to save Ikkaku! And for all you know—for all you know—I think you just imagined the whole thing! There is no zanpakuto! There's only you and your insane jealousy!"
"I didn't imagine it!" Ruri'iro defended.
"Then why haven't you been able to communicate with him again?" Yumichika challenged.
Ruri'iro, abandoning his calm, ignored the question and threw out his own accusations. "You don't want to believe he exists! You don't want anything to come between you and Madarame! Well, Madarame's come between me and you! You haven't done anything to encourage Madarame to bring forth his zanpakuto! You don't want him to have a zanpakuto!" He turned away angrily.
"That's the most idiotic thing you've ever said," Yumichika churned. "And besides, this isn't about whether or not Ikkaku has a zanpakuto—"
"You're right," Ruri'iro cut him off. His colors were very nearly crimson. "It's about you being so stupid that you'd risk your life just to keep me hidden!"
"I had no choice—"
"No choice? You could have released me!"
"No, I couldn't! You know that!" Yumichika shouted.
"So, you would die and let Madarame die just to keep him from finding out about me?" Ruri'iro exploded incredulously. "That makes absolutely no sense—"
"You were willing to let him die—"
"How can you say that? I saved him! I saved you!" Ruri'iro leaned forward, pointing a blazing finger at Yumichika's face. "You asked me to help you, but you hadn't released me! I was still in sword form, and you weren't using me! I didn't know what to do! I can't release myself!" He drew in a breath shaking with emotion. "You wanted me to get you into the fight, but you wouldn't release me! So I did the only thing I could! You didn't tell me to come out! I came out on my own, and I'm surprised you're not yelling at me for that, too! I took you to the shore instead of dropping you straight into the fight, so you could think about how you were going to attack, what you were going to do! Master, that was a hollow you were up against, not some roadway bandit! You could have been killed!" He paused, and his arm dropped back to his side. His voice quieted in a sad lament. "Then when you did finally release me . . . you . . . you called me by that detestable name. Why? Why would you do that?"
Yumichika sighed audibly and rubbed his hands over his face. "Why don't you understand?"
Ruri'iro Kujaku turned away. "I do understand. I understand perfectly well. You don't want me – not as I am. You don't trust me anymore. You don't believe me when I tell you Madarame has a zanpakuto. You don't—you don't—" He could not go on.
Yumichika frowned. "Ruri'iro Kujaku, face me."
Ruri'iro hesitated several seconds before facing his master, crossing his arms and making it clear in his stance that there was little he wanted to hear.
This was going to take some careful phrasing. "I do want you," Yumichika began. "But I'm still not ready to show you to Ikkaku. I'm not willing to risk it. You're going to have to accept that." He paused. "I called you by that name because I . . . I didn't want you to release fully. Knowing how you are, I—I adapted the release command, hoping you'd only do a partial release. And it worked. You get so angry at that name that you won't release fully. But that's what I wanted. You gave me a more powerful physical weapon, and I didn't have to use kido."
Ruri'iro Kujaku was horrified. "You—you've thought all this out, haven't you?"
"It's something that I slowly realized over all the years," Yumichika replied. "You can't disobey me when I say the release command."
"So you found a way to force me to release only to the degree that you want," Ruri'rio spat back.
"No, no. It was your own stubbornness that stopped you from releasing fully," Yumichika countered. "What difference should it make to you whether I call you Ruri'iro or Fuji? What difference should it make if I say sake or sakikurue? You're the one being temperamental and refusing to give me the fullness of your power."
"Because you don't want the fullness of my power!" Ruri'iro charged. "Not in front of Madarame! You—you—you know I can't go against my nature. I can't release the vines at the sound of that—that hideous name! I am a kido-based zanpakuto! And you're going to have to accept that!"
"Ruri'iro—"
"And if Madarame's hatred of kido makes you hide me, then what would he do if he found out that you, yourself, are a kido-based soul?"
"I'll deal with that when the time comes," Yumichika answered calmly. "But right now, I'm talking about you." He paused and gathered his conviction. "I want you to stop spending so much time here in the shrine—"
"You mean, you want me to stop trying to contact Madarame's zanpakuto," Ruri'iro huffed.
Yumichika nodded. "Yes."
"I knew it would come to this." Ruri'iro Kujaku headed for the doorway.
Yumichika followed, stopping him with a hand on his arm. "Ruri'iro Kujaku, listen to me. It could be possible that Ikkaku has a zanpakuto—"
"You said I imagined it," Ruri'iro snapped.
"That wasn't the best choice of words. Look, I believe that you communicated with something, though I'm not convinced it was a zanpakuto." A pause. "But even if everything you're saying is right, you're talking as if Ikkaku having a zanpakuto is going to solve everything. And it's not."
"It would be one less reason for you to keep me hidden," Ruri'iro Kujaku replied, "One less reason to risk your life like you did today."
Yumichika stared at him without speaking for a moment, contemplating what he would say in reply.
Ruri'iro, however, filled the silence with an impassioned cry. "I hate being hidden! Look at me!" He spread his arms like wings, looking down at his own body. "I wasn't created to be hidden from sight! I want to be seen! I want others to look at me and . . . and be dazzled by what they see! I want to show my power! I want you to use me and be proud! I want all of Soul Society to see me, to see what I can do! I want to feel as if . . . I want . . . " His voice broke and he fell silent.
Yumichika was stunned by this outburst. He'd known Ruri'iro Kujaku's love of his own appearance; the kujaku was precisely like his master in that respect. What he hadn't known was just how much hurt his zanpakuto had endured being kept from sight and prevented from receiving the sort of attention he craved.
"I thought mine was all the attention you needed," Yumichika said quietly. It was the truth. He'd honestly believed that he'd been the center of Ruri'iro Kujaku's world, and that his presence had been enough.
Ruri'iro regarded him without speaking. The shifting aura said it all.
Yumichika was stunned. "Am I no longer sufficient for your happiness?"
Ruri'iro Kujaku began haltingly. "You would be if . . . " Here was his chance. He could make his need clear. It was a risk, but he was going to take it. He needed an answer. " . . . if you loved me."
If this statement did not lead his master to proclaim his love for him, then it could only be because there was no love to be proclaimed. Ruri'iro had presented a blatant invitation for his master to assure him of the most crucial emotion.
Yumichika was silent for a long time before replying, "Love doesn't fix everything."
As an answer, it was devastating.
Ruri'iro Kujaku made a sound of anguish and pulled away.
"Ruri'iro Kujaku!" Yumichika called out, going after him.
"Go away!" Ruri'iro ordered. "Just . . . leave me!"
"Kimi—"
"You don't really want to be here, so just go!"
"Ruri'iro Kujaku—"
But the kujaku was not interested in hearing anything. He had suffered the most hurtful of wounds, and the pain was so agonizing, he was beginning to wish it had been a mortal injury. His voice betrayed the tears his master could not see behind the swirling light. "It's never going to happen. Why did I ever think it was possible?"
Hearing him, Yumichika thought he was referring to being revealed. It never entered his mind that his zanpakuto would feel unloved.
And as long as that truth eluded him, he would never be able to take the proper and necessary actions to restore a deteriorating relationship.
