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Good Intentions

Dated: Gotei Thirteen Era Five

- - - - -

Ichigo's eyes stare into Kenpachi's. The two stand motionless for a moment, before Kenpachi shatters the peace.

- - - - -

Ichigo caught the massive blade in his left palm as it swung toward his neck. With his right hand, he swung Zangetsu in a massive arc.

"Getsuga Tenshou!"

Kenpachi's right shoulder is sliced open in a misty spray of blood. In response, he kicks himself into the air, before bringing his blade down like a guillotine toward Ichigo.

Again, the boy blocks with only his left palm.

"Damn it, Ichigo… fight me!"

"I don't want to kill you, Kenpachi."

"Well, I do. Now come on."

Ichigo sighed, lunging forward. Kenpachi swung his blade up to block the blow. A single crevice spread like a bolt of crackling lightning across the steel of the larger man's weapon. A moment later, Zangetsu slid through Oroisoshaku with a sickening crack as the black steel of Kenpachi's Zanpank-to split in half.

Kenpachi reached up to his left shoulder with his right arm, forcibly ripping Zangetsu free of his other arm with his bare hand. Blood dripped free around him, staining his white robe to a sickening, vicious red.

"Bankai. Shinkatsu!"

Kenpachi's blade soared above his head, towering easily forty feet above the pair.

The technique was ultimately his downfall. Ichigo flared his reiatsu, releasing his bankai without bothering to chant its name. With a single fluid strike, he slid the slender black blade through Kenpachi's heart.

Kenpachi smiled, and blood slid through his teeth. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"I shouldn't have had to kill you…" Ichigo smiled, remembering his mentor's words. "… but the road to hell is paved with good intentions."

Slowly, he drew out the blade as the light faded from Kenpachi's eyes.

Then a thought struck him, and he slid his hand into the wound in the man's chest.

"I'm sorry, but I might need this."

A moment later, he swallowed the bloody orb. He heard the slight skid of straw sandals on the rooftop tiles behind him. He didn't bother turning. He quickly analyzed the other Shinigami in his mind.

Light…maybe a hundred pounds. Definitely female, carrying one sword, released, combat type…

"What did you do to him, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo turned at that. Behind him stood a figure, maybe five feet tall, with exceedingly bright, bubble-gum pink hair.

"Yachiru? You've grown."

She glared down at him, swinging the spiked chains of her Zanpank-to through the air.

"Wonderful. I see you've turned over your life to your master. How does it feel to be a total bastard, Ichigo?"

- - - - -

Orihime hung from Kurosaki Isshin's shoulder as he flickered through the air.

"Are we almost there?"

"I doubt it. Ichigo's on the other side of the mountain… fighting someone. Probably that big guy we met earlier."

"How can you tell?"

"Can't you feel it? It's in the air, all around us. Just close your eyes and focus on your emotions."

Orihime took a deep breath and shut her eyes.

It was the strangest feeling in the world. She felt emotions, but they weren't truly emotions, and they certainly weren't her own.

Atop the mountain was a twisted, sickening mix of sadness, agony, and rage. She ignored it for a moment, sweeping out with her mind. Behind the mountain was another figure.

Immense sadness was there, along with a tiny bit of anger.

Then she heard it, in her mind.

"Now, Ichigo… I'm not going to kill you. That would be too easy."

Yachiru?

"He asked that I do this." Orihime audibly gasped. She hadn't sensed any emotions from the second figure, although she knew the voice. It's Ichigo! "He wanted to die in battle."

"He's safe."

"What?"

"He beat Kenpachi. He killed him."

Without stopping his Shunpo, Isshin turned back to Orihime.

"How do you know?"

"I heard him talking to Yachiru… the little girl."

"You can hear them?"

"Yes."

"See what's happening now."

Orihime nodded, closing her eyes.

This time, she searched straight toward him.

Along the way, she felt something tugging at her attention, some vile force. Quickly, she let herself focus on it.

"Ahh!"

"Orihime?!"

"Quickly… land!"

Obliging, Isshin dropped onto a nearby rooftop. Almost immediately, Orihime was on her knees. Her stomach emptied itself quickly. Then she rose up, clutching her arms around herself. She shivered in the warm air of Seireitei.

"What's wrong?"

"Him… Ikatsue. I saw him. I felt his mind."

"I don't understand…"

"I felt what he feels, just for a moment. I knew what he was thinking, and the pain he was in, and all the horrible things he has done. But the worst part… the worst… the worst part was knowing all the things he had done… and not feeling sorry for any of it. He doesn't have any love, or care, or happiness. He's not like Ichigo; not at all… he's much worse."

Isshin draped the remains of his Taichou's robe over Orihime.

"Everything is all right. We'll all be fine, soon enough."

She looked up into his eyes. He could see the tears sitting on her eyelids, waiting to pour out like rain.

"I promise we'll stop him."

Orihime nodded, rubbing her eyes clear with her sleeve. Slowly, she rose to her feet.

"Let's go."

- - - - -

Ikatsue's brow creased in heavily as he climbed the last few yards to the top of the mountain.

"Murasame."

"Yeah?"

"If you ever bring back those memories again, I will destroy you." His statement wasn't really a threat. It was simply a statement of fact. Then his steel-toed boots met the ground at the top of the mountain.

"Yamamoto-kun. I was wondering where I'd find you."

Yamamoto turned slowly.

"I was expecting Kurosaki."

Ikatsue reached across his chest, grabbing onto the edges of his red robe.

"He is Kurosaki no more." The Reaper smiled as he slid off his jacket, throwing it to the wind. "You look strange without a beard." Then, once again, his tone was serious. "I have named him the next Karite. He will follow me until my death, and then take my place."

"Don't spout your lies to me. You may be a master at manipulating others to your goals, but I know you… all too well. You did it so that he will trust you, right up until you kill him. You want his soul, although I don't know why."

Ikatsue's smile vanished.

"You thought I couldn't figure it out?" Yamamoto continued. "I know that you thought Urahara was a piece of trash. Normally, you would have ignored him in a fight. If he did hit you, it would cost you a soul… but souls are easy to replace." He spat the last words.

"You disagree with my philosophy?"

"You have no philosophy!" Yamamoto's shout came back in return. "You are a demon. Even the damned souls in the vilest pits of the darkest corners of Hell itself are nothing compared to your evil."

Ikatsue leveled a furious gaze at Yamamoto. "You know nothing of Hell. Do not talk to me until you have spent a thousand years burning away."

"It wasn't long enough."

"You will not speak to me of that place!" His shout was accompanied by a flare of reiatsu.

"Well then… tell me. Why do you come here, instead of letting Kurosaki finish the job? Were you afraid of letting him learn of his Kinkai, for fear of him matching your skill? Or was it because I can tell him the truth, and shatter your illusion?"

Ikatsue's arm moved like lightning, drawing his longest blade.

"Zantetsuken… the Scythe of the Reaper. I'm surprised you're willing to go straight to the point. I remember the old days… back when we liberated Rukanogai from your rule."

"Liberated?!" Ikatsue shouted. "It was a rebellion!"

"It was a revolution!"

"It was a ridiculous insurrection!"

"It was justice!"

This time, Ikatsue smiled slightly out of the corner of his mouth.

"Idiot… you have no idea about the world, do you? Right and wrong are just illusions… lies that can't even stand against the lightest breeze. Yet you, and your naïve "heroes", your puny excuses for gods of Death… you cling to it as though it were the only thing holding the world together. There is no right and wrong. There is no justice, no true cause for mercy or friendship. Life is not some fairy tale… not my dead wife's bull-shit story."

Yamamoto gasped. "You killed her!"

Ikatsue laughed. "I'm surprised you didn't already know. Come on, know. She was a complete idiot for all of her brilliance. She saw the future years ahead of time, but she couldn't stop me. She was a fool. You and I are the only ones left."

"You killed Kensei too?"

Ikatsue nodded. "I thought you'd never ask. Why do you think it took me so long to get to this point? I've cut all the cords for you. I never make the same mistake twice. Last time, it took seven of you… seven, of my own hand-picked elites, just to defeat me, and then you couldn't simply kill me. No, you sealed me into hell, still attached to my body."

"I made a foolish mistake. It will not be repeated."

"A single mistake? You made hundreds. I saw so many holes in your plan that I didn't bother to try and stop you until it was already too late. Last time, you relied on the other Taichou for support, so I killed them all. Of the Thirteen, only the two of us remain. You, and I, Yamamoto-kun. No more. And know that I did it because of you."

"Even if you do kill me, we can still win."

"What, do you think Kurosaki can defeat me? He's been off, killing your Taichou. He'll be half dead, or at least tired out, by the time he gets to me. He doesn't know even his own Kinkai. I will have six. Add to that the half-thousand souls I carry now, facing off against his. There is no battle, Shigekuni. The war's already over. I won."

"As long as even one person stands against you, you have not won."

Ikatsue's smile was far too wide for humor, but spawned more from a vicious and intense hatred toward his foe. "What can a single puny scumbag do against me? I gave you a thousand years to train up a new set of Taichou for when I returned… and you failed miserably. Your strongest Taichou was Kenpachi, and he's already dead."

Yamamoto's eyes shot wide.

"What? Didn't you sense it when his reiatsu disappeared? Ichigo killed him, maybe three minutes ago."

"You've corrupted him, you demon."

Ikatsue's smile shattered again.

"Very well… Kai, Zantetsuken."

"Bansho issai kaijin to nase, Ryujjin-Jakka!"

Ikatsue's white robes whipped around him in the fiery storm as Yamamoto threw his off of his mightily-built body.

"It ends here Yamamoto."

"No. It has only just begun."

Thus began the symphony of steel and flame.


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