Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.
Translator's Notes: 1) 'Oyaji' means 'Dad'. 2) 'Sayonara' means 'goodbye'.
Author's Note: As a fanfic author, I consider "Saved For You, Kuchiki" to be my magnum opus. This is not the final chapter, by any means - we still have Act IV - but the story has been building until this moment. So many of you have provided such tremendous praise and encouragement, and I'm glad you have all been so entertained. (I'm even more glad you didn't flame me for offing Nanao last chapter.)
If I can kindly ask you, when you're done with this chapter, take the time to answer the few questions at the bottom. Fanfic doesn't come with commercials, so consider the time I've invested and humor me. Thanks.
So here we go - all of you 1000+ readers (!) out there, hold on to your seats. It's going to be a wild ride. -njx
Death.
Darkness.
Blackness.
Void.
Vacuum.
Oblivion?
No--- I don't think so. Not yet. No oblivion. Just death.
The girl's senses were already fading into the background as she began to move through dimensions, but she had one last promise to make.
I'm sorry, Sister. I couldn't last. I simply wasn't made to. I didn't want to die on your wedding day, but I guess Fate has other plans.
I'll make it up to you someday. I promise.
Somehow. I will make it up to you someday. I don't know how, but I will. Even if I never find you again, I'll redeem myself somehow. I promise.
She took one last look at the grotesque body behind her, and her mind was filled with thoughts and words that she only knew before she had been born. A black pit of energy consolidated in her chest, and she could feel her memories receding. Her vision blurred starkly, and she remembered almost nothing; but a handful of buried memories temporarily resurfaced; long enough for her to say one last farewell:
Goodbye, Shinigami. Maybe one day, I'll see you again.
-:-
Kuchiki Ginrei had few regrets in life, but they all pertained to Rukia; and today of all days they registered heavily on his mind.
His first regret was that he had initially opposed her adoption into the family. Ginrei had only a year to learn anything about her before he had moved into the Royal Guard, where he was forced to watch her grow from afar. With the benefit of this outside perspective, he had been blessed to learn that his opposition had been foolish.
It had been a difficult journey with unusually challenging tribulations, but Kuchiki Rukia had grown to be the epitome of grace and class wrapped around the core of an iron-willed samurai. Her presence in the family had been a positive influence on Byakuya, and despite her history of... "casual experiences" for a Sereitei princess, she brought great honor to the family. Ginrei regretted that she never got to hear him call her 'granddaughter'; not even once. He was at least satisfied that his grandson had been able to repair his grandfather's mistake.
His only other regret was that accepting the crown left him locked in this dimension, able to observe but unable to leave. Having sat in the royal throne, it was too risky for him to depart; especially since the recent rebellion. His safety could only be assured in the King's Realm, where the safeguards designed to protect the Spirit King could be guaranteed. Although Ginrei could certainly fight for himself, the penalty of ever needing to do so would be too great. Despite it mostly being a figurehead position, the Spirit Crown was an important part of Soul Society history and culture. If the Spirit King ever did anything to jeopardize the monarchy, the impact on the order and stability of the status quo would be unthinkable.
It was just as he taught Byakuya: just like the only reason nobility exists is to create order, so too does a King exist for the same reason. Abandoning the strict regulations of the crown was even more severe than abandoning the rules of nobility. Besides, the Royal Guard was not a limousine service. Mobilization for something short of grand rebellion would result in a massive loss of respect in the division zero soldiers, whose sole purpose was to protect him from the likes of Aizen; may the traitor's name be crushed to dust.
As much as it bothered him, Ginrei would have to experience it from afar. He was looking forward to the special dinner with his wife, Kaori, that evening in honor of the wedding; but it would not quite suffice, no matter how much Jirobu-kun would try to entertain them. No amount of juggled champagne glasses would replace the absence of family on a festive occasion.
Sighing audibly before taking a sip of his tea, Ginrei was worried. Rather than a bright, cheery, song-like flow of spiritual pressure, he could feel the wedding tainted with a gothic reiatsu of death. He was not sure why; nor did he understand why this dark reiatsu was increasing - but whatever would happen, his regret burned a hole in his chest.
Today of all days, he regretted being unable to rush to Rukia's aid.
-:-
Back to the here and now
Tanabi's rage finally settled down as he reminded himself that he had yet to save some of it for the bride and groom. Readjusting his kimono, he walked over to the doors. He would deal with the Orphan Lieutenant's corpse later; if Shunsui-ojisama ever saw it, Tanabi would be in trouble.
Enough of this child's play, he thought. I'm going to sodomize that couple with their own zanpakutou.
He was just about to open the doors when a hard, downwards yank on his braided hair pulled him down to floor. His skull hit the stone with a crack, and his vision blurred. All he could see was a wooden clog stomping down at his throat, so he quickly tilted his head to the side so that it struck the side of his neck where his muscles were. It hurt like a bitch, but it was far less lethal than having his voicebox crushed.
The tension on his hair was suddenly released, and he had a horrible feeling. Standing up quickly, Tanabi reached up to the back of his head to find his blonde hair cut off, the long blond braid he had been growing for over a century. Looking around, he couldn't find anything or anyone besides the frozen guests and Ise's dead body.
"Who's there?" he called out. "Come out and fight me like a man!"
Tanabi felt a flicker of reiatsu, and then a woman's voice came from behind him. "Tch. Men. Always thinking that you can do it better than we can."
He spun around to face the threat, but instead received a chair in the face. The swing hurt like a monster and broke some of his teeth, and had knocked him backwards onto the floor again. The assailant threw the chair down on top of him before he could recover and then flashed back out of vision. Tanabi shook off the daze, kicked off the chair and scrambled back to his feet, finally getting a clear view of his new opponent.
But it was just that miserable Orphan Lieutenant, standing ten feet away, holding his severed braid with a smug, overconfident smirk.
With a condescending stare, she tossed Tanabi's severed blonde braid over to where he thought her corpse was supposed to be - but it wasn't there. Instead, the maimed body was now nothing more than a busted-up white humanoid doll. "...A gigai?"
"Soul Projection. Another one of those 'inane bahido theories' of mine," Nanao said triumphantly. "You didn't really think I was going to let you beat me up that badly, did you?" she sneered. "And here I always thought I was a terrible actor."
Completely enraged, Tanabi unleashed a Hado #63: Thunder Roar Cannon at her.
Nanao reacted quickly - even though the scarf would protect her, the blast could easily kill any of the numerous civilians scattered about. "Bahido #23: Necrosis Vacuum!"
A massive, spiraling dragon's head emerged from her hands, bearing the mythic resemblance of the Ouroboros, the serpent that swallowed its own tail. The mighty jaws of the dark purple energy were ensnared in ephemeral chains, but the phantasm's flicking tongue reached forward. In a thunderous snap, the reptilian maw swallowed the roaring hado spell and dissolved into thin air, completely neutralizing the impending destruction.
Clearly frustrated, Tanabi prepared to charge again, but he was assaulted with thousands of little orbs of kido-based energy. "Your aim is worse than your intimidation tactics!" he shouted as he flashed to the left.
"Bahido #17: Homing Spheres," Nanao taunted.
Tanabi barely had time to swear as the thousands of energy blasts swung around, changing paths mid-flight, and crashed into his back. Each one began to bury itself inside his body, weighing it down like lead. It was unlike any kido Tanabi had ever witnessed before.
"You know, Banzo Shosho, that's why I never wanted to work for you," she commented derisively. "I could never work for somebody so stunningly opaque. I swear even Omaeda must be smarter than you."
Nanao was done letting Saya's initial wound wear him down - now she was getting serious. Fanning Saya at him again, she overloaded Tanabi with sound waves; watching his skin begin to bubble and blister, eventually bursting and oozing as blood began to trickle out everywhere. Unless he was burning reiatsu like a madman, she was sure his lungs should have collapsed by now; but he was a prince of the Four Houses. He had more reiatsu stored up than she could easily calculate.
Tanabi tried to march on her again, but it was much harder this time. His unclotting blood meant that he was losing fluids rapidly, the added weight of the spheres inside his body was making it hard for him to move quickly, and the continuing blast of sound waves was beginning to distort his senses. The immense pain, both inside and out, did not help - no matter how much reiatsu he had to keep him going, he was still inhibited by his injuries. Nanao easily evaded him as he tried to get back into close-quarter combat, but he had succeeded in getting his back to a crowd. With the wedding guests behind him, Nanao was forced to stop using her zanpakutou; as the sound waves were too big to pinpoint at him sniper-style.
"You think you're so important, Orphan? I'm going to crush your head like a tomato!"
" 'Orphan', huh?" Nanao smirked. "Banzo Tanabi, surely you know the Origin of the Four Houses."
Tanabi paused to catch his breath, glancing at her warily. Even Ise Nanao didn't spout such random gibberish.
Nanao recited an abbreviated version of the passage, fully aware that as a Head of House, Tanabi had memorized the entire thing: "Shiku lost his family to the monsters of the night; and in his suffering agony, was forced to bury his wife and thirteen children. Their lifeblood seeped into his skin and merged with his core. So the white ribbon of this soul, faced with the blood of his most cherished, chose to dye itself a crimson red."
"Who do you think you are, Orphan, that you can recite my origins to me!" he yelled, his voice fuming.
"8th Division Vice Captain, Ise Nanao," she stated proudly, "and the reincarnated 8th child of First King Chibaniki Shiku." She leveled her gaze at him as her reiatsu haze began to flare in her eyes. "It is my blood that gave birth to all shinigami -- the same blood that runs in your veins; you fat, pompous pile of rat feces."
"Bullshit!" he yelled at her. Furious but out of strength, he switched tactics. With a growl, Tanabi grabbed a nearby frozen waiter by the throat. "Give up, Ise Nanao, or this puddle-of-piss commoner dies!"
"Let him go, Tanabi," she commanded threateningly. "Taking a hostage won't get you anywhere - don't sacrifice the last shred of dignity you have."
Tanabi cackled at her, guffawing in outrageous mockery. "As if you could lecture me on dignity? You pitiful excuse for a shinigami! You're nothing but a brat behind a desk! You think they gave you that badge because you deserved it? Hah! I bet that beloved captain of yours never told you the truth!"
Nanao froze. "...What?"
Tanabi pointed at her and laughed. "HAH HAH! FOOL! You never realized? You never knew that old Shunsui promoted you into a desk job so that you would never see combat again? That in truth, he didn't have the heart to tell his darling little Nanao-chan that you're nothing but a complete failure? A waste of shinigami spirit particles? That you can't protect yourself with that useless zanpakutou of yours, much less your comrades? And you think I'm a disgrace? You stupid orphan, have you no common sense? I thought they said you were the smart one!"
Intense, smoldering indignation permeated through every fiber in her being as Nanao ground her teeth in repressed outrage. Nanao knew she should never believe a word Tanabi said, but it jived with her long-held suspicions; and hearing it from him of all people made her blood boil.
Tanabi was enjoying how much he was twisting the knife in her side. "And of all things, you proved your own incestuous disgrace, didn't you? Sleeping with the man you call your father? You can criticize me all you want, Orphan, but I command more dignity while shitting on the pot than you will ever have in your entire lifetime! Dignity? HAH! What in the world could you possible say to me!"
Blade, Badge, Bed.
Nanao had no idea how he knew all of this, but it didn't matter: three strikes, you're out.
"I've got something to say to you, alright," she seethed. "Sing, Saya: Convocare il nono cerchio dell'inferno -- Bankai, you motherfucking son of a bitch."
-:-
Kirio's blade began to fidget. Dear heavens, what's going on now?
Her zanpakutou instantly went berserk, screaming and yelling and shaking for some reason. Kirio's sword was normally pretty laid back, so this was a bit alarming. What's wrong?
What do you mean, 'what's wrong'? Can't you feel it! It's been sixteen years! Sixteen years! How come you aren't moving that big ass of yours!
Hey, just because I like to bake brownies doesn't mean I overindulge. My bottom is perfectly petite, thank you very much.
I'm a freaking sword, my ass is two inches in diameter; to me your ass will always be big. Now quit arguing, get a move on!
And just exactly where am I supposed to go?
To the observation deck!
And just what exactly am I supposed to be looking for?
Goddamnit, crazy cat lady, just go!
What's wrong with cats? Kirio frowned as she headed on her way.
Her zanpakutou sighed. It was hard to be annoyed with such a sweet woman, but being stuck in the Royal Guard for so long had made her a bit oblivious sometimes. When you spend all day and night with people whose spiritual pressure could flatten an espada, faint traces on the opposite side of the interdimensional channel got lost in the noise. Nevermind, there's nothing wrong with cats. Just keep your eyes open and thank me later.
Alright, deary.
Please don't call me that.
Kirio smiled. Her katana was a bit self-loathing sometimes - Kiro readily admitted that it was probably embarassing for such a fierce weapon to have such a caring and considerate personality. "Sorry about that. Now where's Oyaji...?"
No! Don't tell Jirobu-san!
Why?
Because he doesn't want to see this.
Are you sure?
Her katana sighed again. Jirobu-san wouldn't have the heart to watch this; it would completely kill him. Kirio-sama, please, just go.
Kirio was concerned, and picked up the pace. Are you really sure I wanna see this?
Her katana's anxiety dwindled and was replaced by a warm, sunshine-like glow. Yeah, you will. I promise. Now go!
"Okay, okay; I'm going, I'm going," she smiled back.
-:-
Bankai? You have to be kidding me, Tanabi thought to himself. That's ridiculous. It has to be another 'bahido' parlor trick. 'Summon the Ninth Circle of Hell'? Ridiculous. What a lame attempt at intimidation.
But as his denial fortified, gusts of wind forced their way through the hall as the earth and sky began to tremble in anticipation. The blast of reiatsu quaked the frozen inhabitants as the grand visage of the Gates of Hell instantly materialized behind the 8th division vice captain. Their size filled every last open inch of space in the center of Kodachi Hall, and would have terrified the throng of guests if they had any idea what was happening. When the musty, ominous iron doors opened wide, they revealed a spectacle that had rarely been witnessed in thousands of years.
An entire legion of nine hundred Handoshi elite, white hair and orange eyes gleaming against their ragged grey cloaks, stood behind the threshhold. Of course, Tanabi had no idea who or what they were, since he had never even heard of such a thing; but they all looked eager to kill him, so it didn't really matter. He dropped his hostage and began to survey the newcomers.
One of the men in the front stepped forward. Unlike the horde of others behind the threshold who wore nothing in their hair, his contained a distinct blue ribbon that tied back his shoulder-length white strands. He had a sharp chin and lanky build, and could be described more as 'pretty' than one would say 'handsome'. Nonetheless, his effeminate features were combined in such a way that he looked distinctly masculine. Most prominent, though, was the massive, medieval iron shield that at the moment was slung over his shoulder. It looked like one swing of it could knock down Senzaikyu all by itself. When he threw a portion of his cloak over his other shoulder, Tanabi could see a blue rose had been embroidered over the man's left breast, with a prominent 'VIII' positioned underneath it.
He was flanked by an incredibly familiar woman, but the white hair and orange eyes made it hard to immediately establish her identity. She carried a traditional katana hung at her side. Her uniform was also embroidered in a similar location, although the insignia above the 'VIII' was a red diamond, which matched the red ribbon that tied part of her white hair in a small bun.
The man completely ignored Tanabi and spoke directly to the Orphan Lieutenant. "Brigadier General of the 8th Handoshi Legion, Chibaniki Saya-dono, so good to see you again."
"Cavaliere," Nanao greeted him formally. "Looks like the whole legion is here. I was expecting a simple platoon. What's the occasion?"
"Well, you know how it is," he joked. "One for each unforgivable sin to purge."
Nanao laughed darkly. "It doesn't surprise me that he's so deserving."
Banzo Tanabi interrupted this seemingly pleasant exchange. "Who the flying fuck are you, Pussyface?"
The man pierced him with an iron gaze, and Tanabi's further protestations died in his throat as though it had taken him by a vise. "Colonel of the 8th Legion, Hajimata Percival; knight-in-arms to the Brigadier General," he answered, gesturing to Nanao as though it was obvious to the universe who he was talking about.
The woman introduced herself as well, although she had an amused grin on her face. "Chief Sergeant of the 8th Handoshi Legion, Hikifune Miyako; Official Doomsayer over Aizen's Espada."
Nanao was startled as the realization came to her. "...Shiba San-Seki!"
"Good to see you again, Ise Fukutaicho," Miyako smiled warmly.
See? Some people recognize me without my glasses, Nanao snarked to herself.
" 'Shiba'?" Hajimata asked, puzzled.
Tanabi sneered an interruption. "Damn bitch married into that family of wretches. No wonder Kirio's little sister went to Hell."
Hajimata promptly snapped his fingers. He wasn't going to allow anyone to get away with offending his best soldier. A platoon of ten Handoshi Sergeants came out of the crowd and immediately seized Banzo Tanabi. He struggled, but it was no use. They held him tight, forcing him onto his knees with his head pulled back to look up into a mob of eery orange irises. He tried flaring his reiatsu, but he was already too weak for it to do anything - he had used too much of his massive reiatsu reserves trying to sustain damage from his battle with Nanao. Whatever he had left he was using to keep himself alive.
Miyako gave Colonel Hajimata a gracious gesture, as if to thank him; and then rolled her eyes as she added, "I can see my step-brother hasn't changed one bit."
A realization came to Nanao. "You grew up with him? Wow, that must have been awful."
Miyako glared at Tanabi with a venomous, murderous, grinding stare as she answered Nanao with a dour, angry voice. "Don't even get me started about the peepholes. I wouldn't be surprised if he put them in his own daughter's shower; that sick, demented pervert."
Nanao had known Shiba Miyako for longer than a lifetime, and in all her many years, had never seen a look so menacing on Miyako's face. That aside, Nanao made a mental note to pass that little relayed tidbit of information on to Ichihime.
Hajimata then gave Nanao the formal salute, bringing his fist over his heart. "Reporting for duty, Shosho-sama." Miyako followed suit.
Nanao raised her hand to them, indicating she was deferring the offer for further assistance. Hajimata gave a wide grin, knowing that it could only mean the Brigadier General was going to do things herself.
Lieutenant Ise Nanao proudly marched over and looked down into the eyes of Banzo Tanabi, which were otherwise pointed at the ceiling. "Any last words, Tanabi?"
"DIE!" he shouted.
Nanao gave him a demonic, sinister, malevolent grin as her hair turned bleach white and her eyes seared into a pumpkin-tinted glow. "Did that already. Twice."
She laughed - a dark, threatening, ominous laugh that did not forebode well for him. "Let me explain something to you, you sorry disgrace for a Four Houses prince. You may have that wealth of reiatsu from your pure blood, Banzo Tanabi--- but no matter how powerful you are, you're still ten thousand years removed from the source."
Tanabi's bones shook as her entire body lit up in a freakish, diabolical blast of orange reiatsu. The flare was so fierce that it extended in a sphere of thirty feet in all directions, the haze nearly exploding the roof off of Kodachi Hall. Tanabi's lungs felt like they were instantly flattened, and his brain nearly shut down at the awesome, mighty, unimaginable display of force. It was thousands and thousands of times more powerful than anything he had ever even heard of. The spiritual pressure was staggering - inconceivable; mind-bending; beyond the facilities of mortal comprehension.
It was for only but a second, but it was enough. For the first time that evening, Banzo Tanabi felt fear - true, raw, real, bone-chilling, teeth-grinding, gut-crawling, spine-quivering fear.
The men and women of the Handoshi elite, however, cheered in appreciation and excitement. They were once again going to see their beloved general in action. Once more, they would see Saya Shosho share the suffering duty of one who enacts judgement. Over a century ago, they mourned the loss of her leadership, her wisdom and intelligence, her iron hand against the wicked, and her unwavering dedication to her troops; inspiring morale wherever she went - and morale is hard to come by in Hell. For the nearly immortal Handoshi, it had been a mere fraction of a second since they last served under her, but it had been all too long. Their queen had finally returned.
Deciding to return the favor from when she asked him to bequeath the Four Posts, she spit in Tanabi's eye before sentencing him with the grim voice of her bankai; its shrill timbre echoing thunderously throughout the hall as she placed her hand on his forehead:
"Hell hath spoken: Descend into the dark abyss of madness."
Tanabi was instantly screaming. Thousands of years worth of pain and suffering filled his consciousness. He was no longer himself - instead, he was a victim burned at the stake. He died of cancer, was hit by a truck, and eaten by rabid, foaming dogs. His lungs choked on the fumes of gas chambers, his organs were crushed under the weight of a collapsing building in an earthquake, his fingernails melted away by a vat of industrial acid that had spilled on him. His eyes were bleeding of radiation poisoning, his kidneys thrashed with stones, his chest strained under emphysema, and his arm was cut off by a sword.
His heart cried as he became a woman raped a hundred times, a man in prison violated a thousand times, and a child molested a million times. His soul shattered as he was subjected to abject starvation and poverty, to the ravaging withdrawal of alcoholism and drug addiction, and the horrifying humiliation of a woman who had to whore for food. His sanity unhinged as he was beaten by his father, drowned by his mother, and was then forced to drink the blood of his children. His stomach heaved as he watched his own body be eaten by vultures, then witness someone stuff his mouth with his own filth, and then be hung with a noose made from his own hair.
He experienced the sorrow of the wife who discovers her husband philandering with her sister, the despair of a man whose ex-wife accuses him of molesting their daughters so she can deny him custody, the trauma of a child who sees their parents die, and the anguish of a parent who buries their own children. He felt it all, the horrid loneliness and despair of someone who can only imagine that no one else could ever experience the suffering they are enduring.
Banzo Tanabi, in that moment, lived a billion lives not worth living, saw a billion sights not worth seeing, and felt a billion emotions not worth feeling. It was only four seconds of what existence was like for the damned in the 9th Circle of Hell under the 63 Legions, but it was four seconds too many for even the strongest of souls.
It was what those six espada suffered every day under Miyako's hand, the ones who had been hideously evil murderers and rapists when they were humans aeons ago, before they even became class-F hollows. Miyako was more than ready to dole out punishment to those who had desecrated her and her family. She only wished she could get her hands on Aizen himself, but he was the personal property of the Great King of Hell at the moment, so Miyako supposed she could let it be.
Ise Nanao let go of him, but she knew that the mind of Banzo Tanabi had not survived. All traces of sanity had left him, and his incoherent babbling indicated that he likely had the consciousness of nothing greater than a grasshopper. The only thing he could do was sputter the name of the messenger, the harrowing agent of Death's Hand, the one true name of the very Handoshi who had sentenced his fate:
"S-S-Saya... Saya..... Saya... Saya-"
"-nara," Nanao spat, and slit his throat with a satisfying swipe of her blade.
-:-
"Miyako-chan!" Kirio beamed. "She's alive!"
Well, not exactly.
"Well, technically, neither am I."
Her katana laughed. I suppose you're right. Still, I thought you would want to know.
Kirio unsheathed her katana and gave the hilt a kiss. "Thank you so much!"
Hey, enough with the cheek-pinching, Granny. Really, you overdo it sometimes.
Kirio let the 'Granny' go without comment. She was just happy that she had the chance to see her sister again.
-:-
Not wanting to leave a further mess, Nanao stabbed the dead man in the chest; letting her zanpakutou drink her fill. Her cavaliere was waiting for her to speak to him, but she let him wait; pausing to reminisce over the scars on her arm.
Each scar was a memory of a painful emotional conflict from previous battles - the times she had cut herself to feed her shikai. She had always made shallow cuts - anything more deep than that ran the risk of a ticket to the grave - but the scars were always permanent, no matter how superficial the cut was. Nanao had tried to use kido to remove the scars, but to no avail.
Prior to achieving shikai, Nanao's dagger was nothing more than your typical tanto; with no particularly unsual properties other than the fact that unlike most zanpakutou, it was made of gold. While beautiful, it had been highly impractical, so Nanao never really used it. Occassionally, she found it was useful for cutting watermelon, cantelope, or honeydew. Although Nanao heard that most zanpakutou hated being used for mundane purposes, her dagger had always liked fresh fruit. Nanao should have realized that was a bad sign, but at the time, she just chalked it up to to eccentricity.
Achieving shikai, though, had unlocked its assassination-like abilities in its unreleased state, all designed to make it easier to incapacitate and then drain its target. It was so dangerous that Nanao normally kept it around in shikai form most of the time, where it was suitable for little other than whacking her pesky captain. In hindsight, Nanao realized that such powerful abilities in an unreleased zanpakutou were clear indications of her true strength; but until now she was too repulsed by the fact that her zanpakutou asked her to feed it blood to even think about it.
Without blood to fuel it, the only thing Nanao's fan could so was radar surveillance and echolocation; which is fantastic for a tactician but miserable when face-to-face with a two-ton beast trying to eat you. All of those times, she had weakened herself so she would have the power to fight back a particularly vicious hollow that was immune to kido. Sonar doesn't do much harm unless it's particularly strong, and when the only blood available is your own, there's not much choice you have. Either risk fainting from blood loss, or get eaten alive. Not a great choice, but survival comes first. If you die, you failed your mission; and that was never acceptable to Nanao. Victory is everything.
When Nanao first achieved shikai - the first time she had turned her tanto into a golden fan with pink fabric - she didn't realize it had any peculiar qualities. She just assumed that the radar was in line with her tactical skills, and used it accordingly. Although she was surprised that the command to release it was "Fight" rather than something like "Search" or "Scan", she initially didn't ponder it too much. In her first few missions after achieving shikai, Nanao had been so excited by the power increase that she didn't even use her tanto at all - she was having too much fun blasting hollows to smithereens with kido ten times more powerful than before.
But on her fourth mission with her platoon, Nanao (who had still been a 7th seat at the time) found herself face to face with a new breed of hollows that were immune to kido. It would later be discovered that, like Metastacia, they had been one of Aizen's many hollow experiments. Faced with a challenging enemy, Saya had revealed its hematological properties in the heat of battle. Shelving her disbelief in the face of immediate adversity, Nanao grazed her sheath arm; and then her neurotransmitters started firing off like someone had stuck her with a needle full of opium. Overcoming the shock of getting an orgasm in the middle of a skirmish, Nanao used her zanpakutou's fueled sound waves to fight back; causing the hollow's mask to crack like a glass shattering under a Soprano-1 belting out a high F.
Successful against these new kido-resistant hollow, Nanao's platoon were assigned to exterminate the remainder. Two missions later, Nanao and her platoon had finally eradicated them all. Nanao had been promoted to vice captain shortly thereafter. At the time, she believed it had been for her successful expeditions, but her celebration had been tempered by the fact that Kyoraku found out her secret. She had been careless - Nanao had cut too low on her sheath arm, and the scar showed past the sleeve of her shihakusho.
Kyoraku spotted it and got suspicious. Nanao wasn't vain by any means, but she always thought it was bad for morale to have superior officers walking around with scars, so she always healed them, Kyoraku correctly perceived that the presence of a scar on her arm was a red flag.
Nanao knew she couldn't lie to him, so she told him the truth but asked him to keep it out of her personnel file. Kyoraku accepted her request on the condition that he could tell the Soutaicho; and Nanao reluctantly agreed. Kyoraku had then convinced her she should never cut herself again:
"A zanpakutou is supposed to serve its master; not the other way around, Nanao-chan."
Nanao staunchly agreed to that principle, and never did so again. She was a strong-willed woman who would never dream of being anyone's slave - not a man's, and certainly not a bloodthirsty weapon's. Especially one that could become easy to get addicted to, given the incredible high that it gave its victims.
She was lucky she never fell into that sort of thing. Saya's appetite revolted Nanao enough during those missions that even the euphoria wasn't enjoyable. But Nanao wasn't sure what would have happened if Kyoraku hadn't set her back on track - most of the time, he completely screwed up when dealing with her problems, but it was one of the few times he actually said just the right thing to her. The whole situation had been one of the rare occasions when Nanao was actually grateful for Kyoraku Shunsui's tendency to be overprotective. Had he not done so, who knows what would have happened to her by now. Possibly dead from blood loss; or worse, insane and rambling in the Rukongai somewhere, forgoing food and sleep and simply cutting herself over and over again to get high.
Nanao had always felt so disgusted with herself. A blood-sucking zanpakutou? I mean, really, who would believe that? Once someone got past the fact that it seemed ludicrous, it almost sounded trite and campy; as if someone had written an awful B-rated horror movie with Ise Nanao cast as the pathetically lame actress in a dead-end career. Of course, that was what made it so goddamn frightening. It wasn't a crappy movie meant to thrill an audience under the guise of entertainment. It was her own soul, for god's sake. Her own soul that demanded blood, that needed it, that wanted it - how horrible a person was she that she craved blood?
"I see you still aren't afraid of death," Hajimata commented, his voice not attempting to mask his shared sorrow.
Death. Ise knew everything there was to know about it. Her tanto, Saya, told her everything when she had donned the Queen's Royal Scarf earlier that morning; immediately forced to bend to Nanao's will under the crushing reiatsu of the First Queen's protection. Under duress, Saya told Nanao how she had died before shinigami existed, and had to serve instead as a Handoshi in the realm of Hell. How day and night for ten thousand years, Ise Nanao had existed only to punish the wicked; to cleanse them of their sins.
Saya knew all of this because memories are deliberately preserved when souls pass into the realm of Hell, and once one becomes a Handoshi, they never experience the Soul's Sleep when they pass from one world to the next. Instead, the Handoshi's memories are sealed inside the soulcore, which is the very essence of a shinigami's zanpakutou. For Handoshi who become humans, it might as well be the Soul's Sleep; but for those that eventually become shinigami, these sealed memories are difficult-yet-not-impossible to reach.
So now Nanao knew everything. How her spilled blood turned her father into the first shinigami. How when she finished her responsibilities in Hell, she was released to the real world. How her legacy of blood never strayed from her, since she was born as an anemic hemophiliac.
The history of fate had come full circle. When Nanao was almost eight years old in the world of the living, she died on her sister's wedding day. It was so stupid, too. She fell and cut her leg on a rock; normally a trivial problem for most but a life-threatening injury for a hemophiliac. Without the ability for her cut to clot, she had lost a lot of blood; and she was already anemic as it was. The doctors thought they knew what they were doing when they gave her a blood transfusion, but Nanao knew now that not everyone in that era of medicine fully understood the importance of blood types.
Nanao understood everything now. How she died on her sister's wedding day, an innocent child, given the wrong blood type in a procedure that was intended to save her life. How she was reborn for the first time as her own progeny - a shinigami, her life as the daughter of the First King trapped deep inside her tiny little blade. Why her blade was so bound in blood. Why it was so secretive. Why she had complete domination over kido and reiatsu manipulation - she had been unknowingly restraining a level of spiritual pressure that would make most people's heads explode.
Hajimata was right. Ise Nanao bore the burdens of death; stale, indifferent death. It was how she had the mental fortitude to survive the trauma of a lifelong career in the military. Blood and death defined the shinigami known as Ise Nanao. She couldn't deny it. Nanao needed it. It was her darkest truth, an essential part of her soul that drove her ambitions: Ise Nanao would never die again as a helpless little girl. If she was ever going to die a third time, Nanao wanted to do it soaked in her enemy's blood, taking her opponent with her to the grave and into the Gates of Hell; where she would serve the Handoshi legions, rising in the ranks until she again reported to the Great King of Hell himself. Death was not an ending for her - it was just another birthday.
"Hai," Nanao acknowledged with equal sorrow in her otherwise wisful voice. The black tint in her hair began to return as she released her Handoshi powers.
Nanao knew the incredible sacrifices she would have needed to make if she ever wanted to subjugate her zanpakutou on her own. All this time, her zanpakutou hadn't been fighting her, it had been protecting her. She would have lost her mind if she had to revisit her gruesome history beyond the Gates of Hell all on her own. Nanao remembered how she had felt its pull, the call, the beatiful song that thrummed through her head this very moment. The spirits she had seen so long ago, all of those Handoshi in her armies that had loved and cherished her leadership and wanted her to come home - they were all spirits who served souls their damnation.
Nanao, though, had found something greater than a position of power. Isane's unwavering friendship. A sister Rukia. Lisa, who used to read to her as a child. Ashido, who used to bring back books from the real world for her. Unohana Retsu, who had been the best teacher and mentor she ever could have asked for. Kyoraku Shunsui, who despite the fact was going to get his ass completely beaten black and blue from her tomorrow, had been a father to her for over a century. All of it was more precious to Nanao than all the power in Hell.
Considering it would have taken all of said power to conquer her zanpakutou, there was no way Nanao could have achieved bankai on her own. So it was clear that Nanao's only choice was to cheat - to find some other way to force Saya to bend to her will. Nanao never expected to find such a pschologically traumatic history of harsh servitude hiding inside - in hindsight, maybe it would have been better if she never found out. On the other hand, though, she now knew the truth. The Queen's Royal Scarf, the companion to the King's Royal Band that Ichigo had given Rukia, had revealed a History of Fate that Ise could be truly proud of; as hard as that was to stomach.
It wasn't her zanpakutou that held her back all these years - it was her own fear. Nanao could never subjugate her blade in the past because she had been afraid; afraid of the only fear she had really ever known: that maybe she was evil.
Seeing that Nanao was brooding, Miyako put a hand on her shoulder. "I understand," she said, joining the melancholy. Miyako was a good-hearted woman thrust into a task suited for someone with a cruel hand. She understood the duty of ending life, but Miyako was the farthest thing from cruel. Although it was her responsibility to inflict pain, it was not something she ever would have asked for; not even to punish the former 9th Espada who had spit on her dignity. "It's not an easy burden to bear, Ise-san --- but we must. It's a hard lesson."
Fate had been a cruel bitch, but now that Nanao knew the truth, she could no longer be afraid. Sometimes, taking a life was the morally correct thing to do - and spilling another's blood to protect her own would not make her wicked. Ten thousand years of torturing people would scar anybody, but Nanao had to accept that they had all deserved it. It was indeed a hard lesson, but it all made sense to her: Nanao was finally free from guilt. She didn't have to worry that she couldn't feel one iota of remorse for killing scum - and considering how many Handoshi showed up to drag him into Hell, perhaps calling Banzo Tanabi scum was actually a compliment.
Hajimata slowly walked up to Nanao, and Miyako removed her hand to give them some space. Nanao tilted her head to look up at him, allowing herself to remember his centuries and centuries of loyalty and service. He had been her only real companion all of those years, the only one who she could share her feelings with in confidence; because he was bound to her by oath. "I missed you, Saya."
Nanao closed her eyes for a moment as she allowed her old lover a nostalgic kiss, but she then gently pushed him away. "Cavaliere," she said slowly. "I--- I'm Ise Nanao now."
A thin smile spread warmly across Hajimata's face. His service in Hell was up in only three hundred years. Percival was looking towards his future just as much as his brigadier general had before she departed for the world of the living, only a little bit more than a hundred and thirty years ago. "As you wish," he answered, invoking the same anwer he had given her so many times before throughout the millenia.
The remark gave Nanao a thoughtful smile, one that made her feel like she had finally achieved closure on her grim past. She didn't know how often she would have a need to invoke her bankai, but knowing that her own history was something that could save her and her comrades gave her a peace of mind that she had not known in a long while.
Don't forget about the blood on the floor! We don't want Rukia-san to see that when she comes out!
Nanao laughed. A bit of a glutton today, are we?
Feast or famine, as they say.
Nanao shook her head, amused. As she pulled Saya from the exsanguinated corpse of Banzo Tanabi, she thought about the dead man's revelation. She wanted to be mad at Kyoraku, but she put her ire on hold. At the moment she was too overjoyed to realize that he had correctly predicted exactly what would happen between her and her zanpakutou. Saya, whose materialized form bore the resemblance of what Nanao had looked like when she lived as the First King's daughter aeons ago, had served her well today. Today, she was proud of her blade - proud of who she really was.
Nanao might even learn to like her zanpakutou after all. At the very least, it shared her same dark sense of humor.
-:-
The extra Handoshi soldiers who were not lucky enough to carry Tanabi's body into Hell worked quickly, double-checking the hall to make sure everything had been cleaned up after the fight. They scrubbed the floors to make sure that whatever Saya hadn't lapped up wouldn't show, and otherwise insured that the wedding would know nothing of their appearance.
Plenty of things had been disrupted, but the aim was to make sure that no one would realize or even suspect that a full-blown battle had taken place. Short of that, people would chalk it up to a mind fart, or deja vu, or some other randomly unexplained weirdness and go on their merry way. Nanao was pretty sure Omaeda would never notice the missing gigai; he wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the box. Besides, she had been the one to request the gigais in the first place. If Omaeda ever came to her with questions, Nanao would take her glasses off and he would likely just cower in the corner.
Hajimata had already departed, personally escorting the body so that he could resuscitate the soul once it entered Hell. There, he would stand before the Great King of Hell to determine whether he was privileged enough to report to the Great King directly, or whether he would be sentenced to a particular circle and legion. In any event, Hajimata wanted to make sure he didn't disappoint his former commander and made sure that Tanabi was attended to right away.
Miyako, however, stayed behind. "Ise Fukutaicho," she interrupted Nanao, who was overseeing a large Handoshi cleanup crew.
"Yes, Miyako-dono?"
"If I'm not mistaken, this looks like a wedding amongst the Four Houses."
"Yes! Isn't it exciting?"
"Absolutely!" Miyako beamed. "Just curious - who's getting married?"
Nanao stopped short, breath trapped in her lungs. Oh shit. This could end very, very badly.
Okay, take a deep breath. I'd venture to say that was quite a roller coaster I just put you on.
Once you've had a minute to absorb it all, if you could please provide a review with the following answers:
1) On a scale of 1 to 10, how surprised were you? 3 out of 10? 11? Off the chart at 982? Obviously, I gave reason to believe that Nanao wasn't dead; so that shouldn't have been too much of a surprise - although I'm sure I made you second-guess yourself at the beginning of this chapter. :) In case you didn't realize, that first passage is a flashback of Bella saying goodbye to Miyako; her sister is Vivienna (see Ch33). I originally wrote the last chapter wanting to leave you thinking Nanao dead, but when I published the chapter, I didn't have the heart to make you think I was so cruel. The drama-meister in me says I shouldn't have been so nice, but I figured this chapter would be filled with enough surprises as it is. :)
I'm pretty sure none of the rest was expected, though. I would be amazed if any of you ever even thought of the fact that Shiba Miyako was not always a Shiba. (Especially considering how none of you commented last chapter on 'oh, hey, so that's what happened to Ginrei'.)
Seriously, I'm hoping to see 85 reviews that say something along the lines of 'OMFG INSANE NEVER COULD HAVE GUESSED BRILLIANT I NEED TO SIT DOWN AND REMEMBER TO BREATHE'. Okay, maybe not that mind-blowing, but I hope you really liked all these plot twists. I would love to hear your comments. The best comment you can give me is to tell me that the plot twist was the most original thing you've ever read, it was completely unexpected, and that you're still hyperventilating. :)
2) In the end, I really, ultimately wanted to produce a story that would make people want to reread the whole thing all over again, looking for clues so that they could get those amazing "AHA!" moments; so that people would really get the most out of it. In the end, I think I succeeded. :) Now that you know what you know, I am really curious to know how many of you actually did (or planned on doing that) - going back and re-reading the story for clues. When I wrote this story, I wanted to misdirect all of you in every possible direction I could, but plant enough clues that you could see it on a second read-through. So I am REALLY curious to know if you started re-reading chapters, or if you plan to. I would be soooooo thankful if you answer this question.
3) I'm dying to know what you thought about the surprise cliffhanger. Tell me your musings! I bet you thought we were done, right? Think again!
Of course, feel free to add any other thoughts. As you all know by now, I live for reviews. I probably whore for them more than any other author out there. :)
Also, some prizes: Many of you suspected I wouldn't really kill Nanao, but KuroiTsuki7 and CharmedNightSkye win the prize for correctly guessing what happened. But the grand prize goes to devoted fan, Shawn (a.k.a. laughingspider). Shawn wins the prize for being the only person I know of to think that Miyako might come back. I was clever, though, and told him that Miyako would not be reincarnated in this story. Not a lie, just being precise. I know, I am so freaking evil it's not funny. :)
Next Chapter: I am the most evil author in the universe and am not telling you a damn thing.
~~Crossover Cup!~~
Today's very special guest: Otonashi Saya, from Blood+!
Saya: Hi!
Nathan: Welcome! I'm sure you've been waiting to come on the program since, idunno, chapter 4?
Saya: Definitely. You're obviously quite a Blood+ fan.
Nathan: Oh, I loved Blood+. It's not like Bleach at all, but I absolutely loved it. The drama was so simple yet powerful. It had so many amazing intangible qualities that just spoke to me.
Saya: It obviously influenced your story a lot.
Nathan: Actually, not as much as you might think. I had the whole blood-born, dual-reincarnation, vampiric-tanto idea for a long time. In fact, I originally wrote the story (early rough draft) without having seen Blood+ at all. Originally, I named Nanao's zanpakutou 'Dante' (an obvious literary reference) and instead of Percival, I just used references to the "King", knowing people would think Spirit King instead of Great King of Hell.
Saya: Interesting - then why did you add it in?
Nathan: I was just so enamored with Blood+ that I decided it would be fun. So yes, it did influence my tale, but not as much as you would expect. In the end, I decided to put in a few obvious references that the Blood+ fans would catch: Saya, "Saya, Fight!", Haji (using a shield in place of a cello case), the blue rose, opera, Cavaliere (Italian for 'knight', which is 'Chevalier' in French; the name Percival is a derivative of this etymology).
Saya: "As you wish."
Nathan: Of course! There were other more obscure references that I won't enumerate, though. Interestingly enough, it was the idea of bringing in some allusions to Blood+ that gave me the idea to do Crossover Cups. I had to hold off on bringing in the Blood+ characters until Act IV, though, since I was worried I might tip off people. It was really hard, actually.
Saya (laughing): I know your audience says they don't care, but we know they really like 'em and just won't admit it.
Nathan: Bingo. I bet Kai can't wait to come on and yell at me about something or another. Yumi Azusa is still annoyed with me for giving you "her spot."
Nanao (barging in from offstage): Saya, what the hell are you doing here!
Saya (looking guilty): ...Nanao-san?
Nanao: Get back in the freaking story! You think you're on break now! We've got to finish Act III! You can shmooze all you want in Act IV, but right now we have a job to do!
Saya (meekly): Yes, ma'am.
Nathan (feigning Kyoraku): So cruel, Nanao-chan.
Nanao: (whacks Nathan with fan)
Nathan: Ow! Well, thanks for coming, Saya! See you later! Readers, give me those reviews!