XXVIII.

Dust To Dust

Dated: Gotei Thirteen Era Five

There was once a day

When a Shinigami would die for his friend

Now, he kills him for no more than a title

Always remember the legends that walked before you

Without them, you can never have a goal to strive to

Or a life to live…

- The Shinigami's Honor –

By Rande Tao, Taichou of the Twelfth Squad

Yamamoto looked over the ruined city. Nothing was left but a few piles of rubble, and the unfortunate corpses of those left in the streets when Ikatsue had made his move.

He walked down the street toward Yamamoto. Already, his scythe was raised over his head. His other three swords floated around his head like a halo. His sunglasses and robes were gone. Only his black pants and steel-toed boots remained. Silver fire leaked out of both his eyes.

"Ikatsue…" Yamamoto held his own blade combat stance.

Ikatsue shook his head, as if disappointed. "Shut up, Yamamoto. Just finish it, if you can."

Yamamoto's right arm moved quickly, tossing off his oversized white robe and ripping his Zanpakuto from its wooden sheathe. Then, with his free hand, he drew from his back a long black pole. At first, Ikatsue didn't recognize it. "Bansho issai kaijin to nase, Ryujjin-Jakka!" Fire consumed the ruins of the city. The corpses fell into dust . . . or all but one. Yamamoto spun his second weapon in his other hand. "Koushin, Sokyoku!" In a second burst of flame, the phoenix shot into the air. After a single quick circle, it landed on the ground to Yamamoto's right.

At once, both men knew it was time. Their charge was silent. Not even their feet made noise on the shattered ground.

Then, in an earsplitting crack, the flaming sword of Yamamoto met the Scythe of the Reaper.

Ichigo followed after Urahara. He struggled to keep up, as the flames blinded him to his path, and everything around him. For miles upon miles, he ran after his long-time mentor, but struggle as he might, the man was always just on the border of his sight. After all the running, Ichigo paused to catch his breath, only for a moment. At that moment, Urahara seemed to blend into the fire around him.

With a gasp, Kurosaki Ichigo charged forward, trying to find his friend.

At once, the flames ended. He was well outside the city limits, having long since passed the small, outlying suburbs of the central city. At first, he continued toward the surrounding farmlands. However, a single thought made him stop. Turning, he gazed back at the city. Slowly, the tears began to fall from his eyes. What little remained of Ichigo's home town was in flames. Every building had already fallen, but even the fallen, shattered timbers burned.

"Why?"

"Ichigo… I'm sorry." Ichigo bolted to his feet as he spun around, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"You're all right?" Ichigo asked, as soon as he realized he was talking to Urahara.

"Fine." Kurosaki's eyes fell away, as if to hide his emotions. Urahara's hand shot out, catching the boy's chin and bringing their gazes together. "Look at me, Ichigo." Ichigo's eyes avoided meeting Urahara's gaze. "I know this is hard for you, but listen to me. Your father and your sisters are in there." He tilted his head toward the enormous inferno. "I'm going to go in and find them."

"Urahara…!" Ichigo began, but the man held up a hand to silence him. Placing that same hand on his shoulder, he looked Ichigo squarely in the eyes.

"I know you want to come with me, but… look at you. You're tired just making the run from my shop… or what's left of it, to here. I could be in there for hours." With his free hand, he pointed off into the distance. "The others are waiting over there. Go. I'll be back for you." And with that, his white robe fluttered in the wind, and he disappeared. For a moment, the only noise was the crackling of the fire.

Then Ichigo was off toward his father, his mentor, and his last remaining family. The fire didn't bother him as his eyes ignited. No amount of fire could pierce his will.

Ikatsue charged forward, flipping in his side through the barely foot wide opening over the top of Ryujjin-Jakka, and under the flaming talons of the enormous phoenix.

As his feet met the burning ground, he lashed out with his scythe. Blow after vicious blow rained down on Yamamoto, yet his guard refused to waver, or to even recognize the possibility that he might be beaten. Again, Kikoo, the massive phoenix of Sokyoku, swept toward Ikatsue from behind. This time, the man braced his legs and flipped backwards. First Ryujjin-Jakka's fiery blade, and then the bird itself passed beneath his head as his legs hung above him in the air. Then, with another midair flip, he landed perfectly on his feet, blade still spinning against Yamamoto's attack as the man rose up behind him. Releasing his left hand from the handle of the weapon, he continued his attack. With his now free hand, he channeled his reiatsu. Slowly, but surely, lightning began to accumulate in his palm. Again seizing the shaft of his scythe with both hands, he pressed his attack. Yamamoto didn't even look up as starkly glowing electricity erupted from the blade of Zantetsuken.

Urahara ran along the streets, not finding even a single trace of his long-time companion. Without any street signs, or even clear division of streets from buildings, Urahara couldn't tell where the man's house had once stood. He darted about madly, but the fire limited his vision to a few hundred feet. It was like a deadly guessing game. Isshin was running out of turns.

Isshin fell to his knees. The fire around him evaporated the tears from his face before they even reached his cheeks. His gaze settled on the charred and brittle body.

Yamamoto…

He didn't even turn to the click of the footsteps behind him.

Yamamoto… you have burned away my children.

Slowly, the clicking approached him.

All I have left is ashes and a single blackened corpse.

They stopped, only two feet behind him.

I will never forgive you.

A single hand was placed on his shoulder.

"Go away, Urahara."

"What makes you think I'm Urahara?"

Isshin's head jerked to the side upon hearing the voice.

"Ichigo… You're alive!"

He smiled slightly out of the corner of his mouth.

"I don't die so easily." With two fingers, he gestured to the flames in his eyes.

"I see…" The father noted. "Wait… If you're alive, then that means they might…"

"Who might?" Ichigo asked.

"Where are Karin and Yuzu?"

"I thought they were with . . . you. . ." Ichigo's words trailed off as he spotted the charred corpse lying on the ground behind Isshin. "Is that…?"

Isshin sighed. "I think so."

In a blur, Ichigo's sword was drawn.

"No!" Isshin cried out as Ichigo turned to leave. The boy glanced over his shoulder, but continued walking toward the two warriors. Their fight could just be made out in the distance.

"What?" Ichigo shouted. "I won't just stand by. If I have to, I'll kill Yamamoto with my bare hands." His sword hand quivered as his body struggled to control his rage.

"No! Ichigo… I won't lose you like I lost them! Don't go against him! Even with your fire and your Bankai, he'll destroy you!"

"Then I'll have to come up with something stronger." His words clicked with controlled fury. His eyes tightened, and the flames grew more intense.

Ichigo's sword flew out of his hand. The slender black blade spun through the air before landing in a pile of rubble.

Then the world swept like a spinning watercolor painting. Amidst the whirling reds and oranges, a white clad figure walked forward. A grip like steel seized the collar of his black jacket before darkness overtook his sight.

The thundering scythe struck the phoenix as it flew overhead. In that moment, the bird screeched in agony as one of its wings buckled in. Spiraling into a nosedive, it crashed onto the already-cracked pavement. Without wasting a moment, Ikatsue dove onto its back, channeling his reiatsu to his legs to guard against the flame as he slashed down on it again and again. Blow after blow ripped through the fiery body, accompanied by screeches and shrieks of pain which gradually grew quieter as the blade finally died.

With the final killing blow landed, Ikatsue again flipped backwards to avoid a slash from Yamamoto. This time, instead of letting gravity take its course, he focused his reiatsu and stopped his fall hanging upside down, with his head about five feet off the ground.

Yamamoto spun, bearing down on Ikatsue with both his blades. The Reaper had no trouble striking away blow after blow.

Finally, Yamamoto shrieked in fury as his eyes exploded in his own bright orange flame.

"Kai!" He screamed, saving himself the time to chant his own releases. Both blades shifted in his hands. The long katana that was Ryujjin-Jakka began to melt, as the fire in a small area around it began to concentrate. Finally, it finished gathering, and took the form of a massive fiery dragon. The serpentine creature coiled itself up at Yamamoto's side, baring its massive maw at Ikatsue as it howled.

Sokyoku, on the other hand, took what appeared to be a more benign form. The blade at the end of the weapon slowly melted, coating the wooden staff with glistening silver.

Ikatsue's experience with the weapon told him that it was the more dangerous of the two.

His inhibitions were confirmed when a pair of hands reached out of the shattered concrete at his feet, clasping his ankles.

Despite the strength of the dead grips, which didn't recognize that their grips were shredding their muscles, Ikatsue managed to free himself. With a single kick, he launched himself into the air.

Directly in front of him, Kensei smiled through dead eyes. "You didn't think you'd be rid of me that easy, did you?"

His first blow sent Ikatsue crashing, headless, to the ground. Almost instantly, a thousand walking corpses surrounded him, pinning his limbs to the cold concrete.

Urahara's straw clogs clicked on the ash strewn ground as he approached the two warriors. With a quick flourish, he drew his sword..

"Okiro, Benihime."

As it changed in his hand, he slipped it back into it's sheathe, while mentally maintaining its released state. Then, reaching up to his chest, his fingers ran over the virtual armory of weapons. His hands paused over the pair of solid silver guns on his hips, but he shook his head.

"It's not time for those yet." Instead, he drew a pair of wooden weapons, which hung from his central chest. Spinning the weapons in his palms for a moment, he slowly let the stop. Then, with a lightning fast motion, he pointed both at Ikatsue.