Notes:
Thanks to my beta reader Ink and Blade!
Mirrored on Archive of our Own
If I missed responding to any review I'm sorry! You're all the best, I try to respond to all of you!
Cheat Sheet:
Reiryoku → reiatsu → reishi
die Königin (The Queen)
Aspect: Vengeance, Life
Location: Living World - Geisterwelt (Spirit World)
Physical medium: Die Augen der Königin (The eyes of the Queen)
Ability: Das licht (the light)
Kinder: Quincy (Manipulate reishi)
Quincy host: das Herz der Königin (The heart of the Queen)
Current Host: Kurosaki Ichigo
Previous Host: Adaliz
- xxx -
Reiō (Soul King) -Destroyed-
Aspect: Disruption
Location: Souru Sosaeti (Soul Society)
Physical Medium: Crystal
Ability: Kekkai
?
Kuriētā: Shinigami
Aspect: Balance
Location: Souru Sosaeti (Soul Society)
Physical medium: ?
Shinigami Host: ?
Current Host: None
Previous Host: ?
Shinigami
Aspect: Neutrality
Physical Medium: sekkiseki
Ability: Soul Filtration
Location: Souru Sosaeti (Soul Society)
- xxx -
Alteza (High King)
Aspect: Regret, death
Location: Hueco Mundo (Hollow world)
Physical medium: Las manos de Alteza (the hands of the High King)
Ability: La sangre (the blood)
Niños: Hollows (feed off of reishi)
Hollow host: El corazón de Alteza (The heart of Alteza)
Current Host: Kurosaki Ichigo
Previous Hosts: Aizen Sousuke - Mictlāntēcutli
Ganbari masu!
La Ceniza- xxx -
Grimmjow
Judging from the occasional skyward glances from Harribel and Starrk, the howling and whispering really had gotten louder. If not louder, different. It was distracting, but nothing compared to what he was feeling from Kurosaki. He was already angry, but feeling the shadow of pain and rage and panic was sickening. It made him want to act, but there was nothing to be done.
He stalked after them, hands in his pockets rather than someone's throat. Starrk kept an eye on him, which pissed him off, no matter how justified it was. Kurosaki threw his anger in his face, he knew some of this was all him, but he'd let it slide.
Starrk asked, "What happened with Ulquiorra?"
"Woke up, fucked off." Starrk looked expectant, but there was nothing more for him to say.
Szayel didn't meet them at the door, he was leaned back against a dissection slab, a look of annoyance on his face for being forced to wait at all. On the screen before him was a white haired man chatting away with a dark skinned woman. She looked a little bored and the shinigami looked nervous, either uncomfortable in general or by what she said, but seeing as the last thing out of her mouth was rather crude, it could have been either.
Szayel noted their presence and sighed dramatically. "Finally." He pushed away from the table and let them take over.
The white haired man sat up a little straighter. "Ah, I'm Ukitake, and this is Yoruichi-san." His eyes lingered on Grimmjow, then snapped to Harribel. "I don't believe we've met, but you must be Harribel?"
"I am. This is Starrk and Grimmjow."
Ukitake's eyes lingered on Grimmjow and the Espada snapped, "Got somethin' to say to me?"
Ukitake held up held up his hands, the picture of innocence. "Apologies you simply...look different." He couldn't remember ever meeting him before, but then, he had spent a couple of hours captured, all of Seireitei could probably nail the exact shade of his eyes and hair.
The woman leaned over his shoulder and frowned. "What happened to your face?"
Grimmjow snarled, "Worry about your own face!"
"Grimmjow." Harribel's tone actually deviated for her usual nonchalance into exasperation. She muttered, "I don't know how Kurosaki puts up with you."
Ukitake spoke up. "Well, I didn't make this call to start an argument, this is about Kurosaki." Grimmjow felt his heart start to race, hoping this conversation went the way he hoped it would.
"I assumed as much," said Harribel. "What does a taicho want with me? You showed no interest in speaking to me before." There was an edge of spite in her voice, and Grimmjow couldn't blame her for it, he hated being ignored too.
The shinigami's expression grew guarded. "I'm acting of my own accord."
"Kyoraku's," muttered Yoruichi.
Ukitake looked briefly irritated. "Kyoraku's and mine."
"Why should we trust anything you have to say?" asked Harribel.
For a moment he looked perplexed, then he sheepishly lifted a hand to his head, pushing his hair back from his face. "Ahhh, I don't know, I hadn't thought that far."
Yoruichi rolled her eyes. "How the hell have you made it this long." She asked Harribel. "How much do you know?"
Harribel gave Starrk the go ahead, and he explained, "I saw Kurosaki erect some sort of defense, but I didn't try to get any closer, and I left shortly after."
Grimmjow added, "I know he's in pain." That was news to Harribel, and the look she shot him wasn't friendly, but he didn't care. "He's still panicking some, and he's pissed off."
Yoruichi didn't ask how he knew that, she merely nodded and said, "With the type of kido they bound him with, I'm not surprised."
Harribel asked, "How did they bind him?"
"Long story short, they're using his own reiatsu against him. The only reason I bet it didn't kill him is because of his regeneration. Kisuke is pretty sure the reason Kurosaki hasn't just shattered it is because he's got the control of a child, he'd crush Soul Society if he did that. That boy doesn't know the meaning of the word restraint."
Grimmjow growled, "What would you know? None of you have any idea how strong he really is."
Yoruichi frowned. "No one can sense him." Her eyes narrowed when Grimmjow said nothing. "You can?"
"It's a recent perk. You think you know how powerful he is, but you don't." Grimmjow realized he had all of their attention, this was news to all of them, and they should fucking know. "He pretends to be weak. It's a fucking act, and he got good at it. You bought it, didn't you? He does more than pull his punches; if you had to step on an ant without killing it, could you?" He snorted. "The kid is restraint personified."
Yoruichi looked surprised to hear that, but she adapted quickly enough. "Then Kisuke's theory is even more solid. If this seal is intended to use his power against him, forcing it could be catastrophic, it's no wonder he's panicking, he never was the type for mass slaughter."
Grimmjow wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic or not. Harribel asked, "Again, why contact us?"
Ukitake held up a bundle of silk tied with an expensive looking rope."We have a way to free him, but we can't use it."
"Why not?" asked Starrk.
Ukitake said, "The sand barrier is unexpected. The soutaichou attempted to take it down, but every offensive attack he tries does little in the end. The parts that are destroyed are built back up. If he can't get in, then there's no way we could."
Harribel said, "You think he might lower la barrera for an arrancar?"
"That was our hope," said Ukitake.
"How," asked Harribel, "do you expect us to get into the heart of Seireitei unchallenged? You expect us to simply trust you?"
Ukitake winced and said, "You have little reason to trust us, I understand. How do I prove I mean what I say?"
"You can't," said Harribel.
They weren't getting anywhere like this. Grimmjow cursed and said, "I'll do it. If it's a trap, then fuck it, I'm dyin' anyways. Got some sort of plan, shinigami, or is this just a big ole' pile of suicide?"
Harribel spoke steeply, "I did not agree to anything, Grimmjow."
"Fine, whatever. What's the harm in hearing their plan?"
Harribel didn't look amused, but she didn't argue his point. She asked Ukitake. "Do you have a plan?"
"Yes and no. I'm not the only one opposed to sealing Kurosaki, you would have the help of three captains, and a couple of seated shinigami. If we could provide cover, could you get close enough to free him?"
"Yes." said Grimmjow. Harribel shot him a look and he glared at her, repeating himself more resolutely. "Yes. I can do it."
Harribel said, "You have to be sure."
Grimmjow hissed, "I'm sure. He knows me." It made him uncomfortable to say that out loud, it made it real and gave it weight. It was the truth; Kurosaki knew him inside and out, and he was quickly coming to understand Kurosaki in return. Even if he wasn't hinging this plan on whether or not Kurosaki would recognize his presence, he had another thing going for him. "I'm connected to Alteza, he couldn't ignore me if he tried."
Harribel's eyes fell to the jawbone on his face, and she nodded, returning her attention to the shinigami. "Fine. Where should I send Grimmjow?"
Ukitake looked startled by how quickly she had agreed. "Just like that?"
"Time is not a luxury we can afford, and this is not something we can do alone." Harribel said. She glanced at Grimmjow again and said, "Besides, if anything were to happen to Kurosaki's fraccion, there would be hell to pay. Keep that in mind, shinigami. If Grimmjow does not survive, neither will you."
It wasn't an idle threat, a fact which annoyed Grimmjow, but made it no less true. There were some things Kurosaki couldn't forgive. For better or worse, the fucker gave a damn about him, and there was no going back.
Ukitake didn't seem altogether bothered by this threat. He said, "I can meet you outside the West gate. You know...that Kurosaki inspires so much loyalty is a greater part of why we choose to help."
"What does the loyalty of an arrancar mean to you?" Harribel asked. She wasn't accusing him of anything, her question sounded genuine.
"A great deal more than I think you expect," insisted Ukitake, "but it isn't only you, it's the loyalty of an officer of mine, and Kurosaki's loyalty to her. He saved her life when we failed to, he chose to defend Seireitei from the Quincy. Those are only a few of my reasons, but the truth is the best consolation I can offer."
Grimmjow growled, "What if I don't buy the bleeding heart act?"
With a sigh, Ukitake continued, "If that isn't enough for you, Soul Society still has my loyalty, and I don't believe trapping the host of Gods in the middle of Seireitei will bring anything but disaster. Already nine are dead and those deaths were merely a consequence of Kurosaki's bid for defense." He shook his head. "As much as I'd like to believe we have the skill and power to contain a ryoka boy, we don't. The sooner you take him back, the sooner the things I care about are safe."
Settling back on his heels, Grimmjow shrugged. "I guess I buy that."
"I'm glad," Ukitake let out a nervous chuckle, "because that's all I've got."
Yoruichi leaned in, filling the screen and giving them all a good look at her cleavage. "West gate. Meet us there in ehhhh half an hour. See ya, Blue." The transmission cut off.
Szayel spoke up from behind him. "Kurosaki's phone went dead some time ago. If you're going to go get him, take this."
Grimmjow turned to face him and Szayel tossed the phone to him. He caught it before it could hit him in the face, ignoring the severe look of interest in Szayel's eyes. He had no doubt the reason he kept Szayel distance at all was because they weren't alone, but there was a hunger there that he recognized and pretended not to notice.
Harribel said, "I'm sending Starrk with you." He studied the phone, wondering what the fuck was wrong with it, then realized he probably wasn't smart enough to work it out. He slipped it into his pocket and looked to Harribel. To Starrk she said, "Should this be a trap, you leave them both behind and return."
Stark nodded and Harribel looked to Grimmjow. She seemed to be expecting an answer, so he gave it to her. "I got it. If things turn south, I'm on my own."
"Try not to be reckless." Harribel's expression grew serious. "You know the consequences."
If he up and got himself killed, he knew now all too well what would become of it. He could feel Kurosaki's capacity for vengeance, the delicate thread of his sanity, all wrapped around a very small group of people. Cut that thread, and everything would start to unravel. Grimmjow wouldn't do that to Kurosaki.
- xxx -
Hunkering down in a small building just inside the outer wall, Grimmjow clenched his fists beneath his borrowed cloak. Starrk was about to be the least of their worries, so he was back to being invisible.
Since he'd stepped through that garganta, the weight of his responsibility pressed down like gravity. Failure meant Kurosaki got thrown into a cycle of revenge. He didn't trust these strangers, hell, the only people he trusted were Kurosaki and himself. Kurosaki didn't deserve this, and they needed him back.
Grimmjow frowned down at the bundle that was thrust into his arms. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?"
Ukitake opened his mouth to speak, but Yoruichi cut him off. "Are you as dumb as you look or can you follow basic instructions?"
"Bitch," growled Grimmjow, hand clasped around Pantera.
"Don't forget why you're here." Ukitake spoke hurriedly. "There isn't much you need to do, the Kido that created the Hōgu is just as strong now as when it was made. The legend says-"
"Excuse me, legend?" hissed Grimmjow.
Ukitake realized his mistake. "I assure you it's quite reliab-"
"Fucking unbelievable, whatever. How does this shit work?" He pulled at the rope wrapped around it and uncovered what was inside. There was just a small unassuming dagger, the blade a curious matte white. "Is this thing even sharp?"
"No," said Ukitake. "It isn't for cutting souls, it drains Kido and absorbs reishi." He reached for it, and Grimmjow let him have it. He stabbed the blade through his own hand with little to no resistance.
Grimmjow said, "I thought you said that thing wasn't sharp?"
Ukitake withdrew it and showed him his palm. "It isn't." His palm was untouched, like he hadn't just stabbed himself with a dagger.
Grimmjow snatched it from his hand, immediately stabbing it into his own arm. He couldn't feel anything other than a small tingle, but that didn't tell him much when he couldn't feel pain. "What the fuck? How does this thing even work?"
Yoruichi groaned, "Stop playing with it and listen."
He looked up at her, pulling it from his arm to flip it in his palm so he was comfortably holding the hilt with the blade resting against the underside of his wrist. He didn't intend to put it down until he used it.
She spoke, driving her fist into the palm of her other hand. "You're going to stab him with it. Preferably in the forehead. I'd say heart, but he's most likely hollowfied."
He looked back down at the unassuming blade. "And this thing will...do what?"
"Devour the kido." said Ukitake. "But it doesn't just vanish, that Kido will need to be redirected. If you stab someone else with it, there's the chance the kido it devoured will be imposed on that person...or it could just blow up. The latter is more likely."
Grimmjow snorted. "So you're giving me a bomb. That's cute."
Yoruichi rolled her eyes. "If you're going to bitch we can take our irreplaceable dagger," she made a swooshing gesture with her hand, "and be on our merry way."
Taking a swift step back, Grimmjow scowled. "I ain't pussying out."
She crossed her arms. "Then let's have a little talk about the plan."
Grimmjow turned away, blowing her off. "I stab him with the knife. Got it." To his surprise, Yoruichi was right there in front of him again. She was faster than he gave her credit for.
She said, "Don't make a move until Yamamoto is occupied. Think you can do that?" From the way she said it, she didn't think he could.
Grimmjow resisted the urge to try to hit her. She was fast and he would only embarrass himself. "Lady, do you think I've got a death wish?"
"The hair is a giveaway." She said innocently.
He grit his teeth, then shouldered past her to the door. Ukitake called after him in a controlled hiss. "Grimmjow-san if you would please just wait-"
"Waiting for me?" A man in a...woman's kimono blocked the exit before Grimmjow could leave, intentionally planting himself in The Espada's path.
Ukitake sighed. "Kyoraku. You would be late to your own funeral."
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," said Kyoraku. His eyes settled on Grimmjow. "I'd say I wished we were meeting under better circumstances, Grimmjow-san, but let's face it, they won't be gettin no better any time soon."
Grimmjow looked for a way to squeeze around him, saw none that wouldn't involve an uncomfortable amount of contact, and gave up. "That's a little dark for a shinigami, ain't it?"
"Speaking of, aren't your eyes a little dark for an arrancar?"
"For fucks sake," growled Grimmjow.
"Leave it," said Yoruichi, "The princess is touchy about his looks."
"Fuck off," said Grimmjow. He turned on his heel, toying with the knife in his hand before he tried to stab someone with it. He didn't know how Kurosaki looked so calm all the time, he could barely finish a conversation without wanting to tear someone's throat out.
Ukitake spoke to everyone present. "Try not to piss off our only chance."
Kyoraku said, "You know Kurosaki well, don't you?"
Grimmjow paused, instantly on guard. He looked back at the shinigami, his silhouette a bit more imposing in the door frame. He'd written Kyoraku off as a fool, but that was a mistake. There was no room for mistakes, and he kept stumbling into them. He squeezed the knife in his hand, instincts urging him to get out of that room.
With a sigh, Kyoraku pushed off his hat and said, "It isn't a trick question. We had you dead to rights, but Kurosaki came back for you, you matter to him." Grimmjow took a step back, and Kyoraku looked up and let out an exasperated sigh. "That sounds like a threat, doesn't it?"
"Well," said Grimmjow, "I am stuck in a room with two captains and a bitch-"
"Asshole," muttered Yoruichi.
"-you have me dead to rights."
Kyoraku folded his arms in his sleeves and said, "Fair point."
If the captain was trying to make him feel better by occupying his arms, Grimmjow had to begrudgingly admit it was working.
Kyoraku continued, "Why you? Is there no one else?" That simple question meant the shinigami had all come to the same conclusion Harribel and the rest of the arrancar had; if Grimmjow died, there would be hell to pay. It was no wonder the shinigami didn't want to take that risk.
"I'm all you've got," said Grimmjow. "I ain't lying when I say there's more than a handful of arrancar who would gladly be here instead, but I'm different. If he's gone and holed up in this much pain, there's no telling if he's going to be able to sense reiatsu, he's trash at it on a normal day. He can't ignore me."
Kyoraku's eyes slipped to his mask in silent consideration, then he stepped into the room, freeing open the doorway. "I believe you. Go. Ukitake and I will handle Yama-jii."
No one contested this, so Grimmjow slipped out the door and into sonido, hugging the walls as he snuck closer and closer to Kurosaki's makeshift fortress.
The nearer he got, the larger he realized it was. He had to crane his neck to see the top, and the deep shadow it cast over Seireitei was more ominous than he thought it would be. Once he was within its shadow, it was almost as dark as las Noches, the temperature dropping a few degrees.
For a long time, he didn't see anyone, but he sure as shit sensed someone. Several someone's, all at what they deemed to be a safe distance from the pale tower of spikes, and none of them seemed to want to venture into the shade.
When he started to pay attention, he could see why. La sangre flickered along the deepest shadows like flames, and once he saw them, he wondered why he hadn't noticed. Before it would have set him on edge, but now he found himself lingering closer, no longer repelled by its mere existence. He thought he understood now why Kurosaki tended to favor the dark, and why Alteza didn't unnerve him the way it used to.
He crouched and pressed his shoulder to a wall, the chill soaking through the cloak so rapidly he had half a mind to believe it was unnatural. No one appeared to be brave enough to stand in the dark, he probably had no reason to hide, but he wouldn't miss his chance on the hope no one was that stupid or brave.
So he waited, stretching his pesquisa to monitor the area closest to Kurosaki. He wasn't worried he would fail so much as worried about what came next. Kurosaki was no less angry now than he had been before, something had gotten under his skin in a way he'd only seen him react to Szayel.
He looked down, watching la sangre gather around him like flurries drawn into a corner, and he tried to ignore it. He wasn't sure if Alteza was feeding Kurosaki's rage or vice versa, but it didn't bode well either way.
He counted the seconds, time dragging, but it must have only been moments when he felt a surge of reiatsu, along with the weight of several more shinigami preparing themselves to fight. It was heavy, but nothing compared to Kurosaki.
He sprang into sonido, using the rooftops now that his distraction was well underway. He stopped arms reach from the sand, seeing now just how many spikes protruded from its surface. Some were as small as a finger, and all were needle sharp.
He reached out with his free hand, palm hovering over the surface. Nothing happened, and he started to sweat. He muttered, "Come on, Kurosaki, come on you angry fucker, let me in. Let me in. I know you see me."
More time passed, too much, and he was startled from his determined muttering when fire raced along the surface of Kurosaki's self made prison. He jumped back and away, blurring into sonido when the fire licked at his toes.
He reappeared on a rooftop a hundred yards away. The blaze was immense, heat scorching the sand along the surface into glass and a melted terrain and blunted spikes. As soon as the fire began to die, the glass dissolved like melting frost, ground back into stone by la sangre.
Once he was certain he wasn't going to be burned alive, Grimmjow blurred back to where he stood before, this time pressing his palm directly onto uncomfortably hot stone. "Kurosaki!"
Darkness engulfed his vision, suddenly pulled into that sand. He tightened his grip on the dagger, but for some reason the sand and la sangre avoided it, cringing away.
It parted around him so abruptly he staggered, finding himself in total darkness. But not alone. It raced across his nerves and raised his hackles, he knew Kurosaki was there, his instincts warned him of it, despite the silence that rang in his ears.
The silence was so strong he couldn't bring himself to shatter it, hoping his voice was steady as he hissed, "Always dragging me into your bullshit." It wasn't heartfelt, he just needed to say something.
A strained chuckle rumbled in Kurosaki's chest, much closer than he anticipated. Now he had some idea where he was, reaching blindly into the dark. Even suppressed, getting an exact read on Kurosaki's reiatsu was nearly as impossible as grasping fire.
His fingertips brushing against something hot but smooth, assuming that to be whatever Kido was binding him. he realized just where he was touching when his hand brushed a horn. He grabbed it, the edge cutting sharply into his palm. He said, "I hope you're ready for this you sorry bastard." Grimmjow wasn't, but wasting time helped no one.
Grimmjow adjusted his grip on the dagger, feeling a flicker of doubt twist his gut. The dagger wasn't supposed to hurt him, but he was still going to be driving a dagger into his brain, it felt wrong.
He forcibly ignored his fears, raising his arm and driving the dagger directly into Kurosaki's head, straight through the Kido, straight through Kurosaki. Even though he was expecting it, the lack of resistance was startling.
After a brief second, the kido shattered, he felt it break through the hilt of the dagger, and saw the pale glow through a thousand splintered pieces, Kurosaki's reiatsu washed over him like a tide, feeling it secondhand through Alteza.
He yanked backwards, finding there to be more resistance to that action than he would have expected. He heaved, the kido drawn with the motion into the blade. He heard Kurosaki gasp as it fell away in pieces, the glow dissipating in a burst of power that was sucked into the blade before his eyes could even begin to adjust.
He cautiously held the dagger away from him, the weapon literally vibrating with power. In the dark all he could hear was Kurosaki's panting breaths. From how low the sound was, he still had to be on his knees. "Kurosaki."
No response, only gasping breaths. He bent down, grabbing a handful of his shihakusho to hoist him up. "Get. Up." For a moment, he was holding up a lot of his weight, but slowly he found his legs. Even without his sight, he sensed the sudden change in him, taking a swift step back.
"Koneko," Zangetsu purred. There was a murderous edge to his voice, a pleased level of delight that sounded distinctly out of place with the rage he could still feel.
Grimmjow took another step back, his back hitting stone when he ran out of space. "Where's Kurosaki?"
"Don't want to see me?" His tone shifted into a savage hiss. "I'm hurt."
"Zangetsu-"
The hollow whispered, "Shhhh," his tone grew harsh, "before I do something I'll regret." When he spoke again, there was a bit more distance between them. "King is busy."
Grimmjow swallowed, and after a moment of silent debate, he took a risk in ignoring Zangetsu's threat. "There are shinigami that helped me get to you, don't do something stupid."
Even in pitch dark, Grimmjow could feel Zangetsu's eyes on him. The hollow mocked, "Stupid...stupid is letting King suffer. If King doesn't have the balls to kill Yamamoto, I will." The stone around them cracked, a sliver of light illuminating Zangetsu from above. The light caught his shoulder, the sharp edge of a horn.
It wasn't fixing itself anymore, Grimmjow found that strange, but he couldn't afford to wonder why that might be. He protested, "That can't be what Kurosaki wants."
"Fuck what he wants." Zangetsu looked up into the light, his pupils narrowing to pinpricks in the light. He reached for his sword, paused, then his gaze snapped to the weapon still held tightly in Grimmjow's palm. "Give me the dagger."
"What are you going to do with it?" Grimmjow asked.
Zangetsu was suddenly inches away, his voice lilting through mock cheer. "What goes around, comes around." His hand was tight over Grimmjow's own, taking the dagger from him whether he wanted to give it up or not. Zangetsu pulled the dagger from his grip with the ease he might have taken it from a child.
Grimmjow said, "You don't even know what it does."
The hollow turned the dagger over in his hand, studying it up close. The pale white of the blade was no longer dull, but glowing, power dripping from the edge like magma. "Do you? It devoured the kido, but do you know why?" Grimmjow hadn't considered that, he hadn't even cared until that single word; why?
Zangetsu drew his sword, musing over his words. "It was made by the Quincy and the shinigami, it burns with das licht. It unbalanced King, he's dealing with it." Black reiatsu swarmed over the surface of the Zanpakuto, continuing, "I'm going to turn it all back on Yamamoto, with interest. There's a whole lot of Alteza in this dagger, a whole lot of power."
Zangetsu hoisted his sword, preparing to loose a getsuga, and Grimmjow was struck with the reality that he was running out of time to talk him off of the edge. "And what happens after you get revenge? What next?" Grimmjow asked. It felt strange to him to be the voice of reason, but there was no one else there.
Zangetsu tilted his head as if considering his question, then said, "I don't think I care." He brought the sword down, his getsuga crashing into the stone, shattering the dome that trapped them both. If Zangetsu could have dismantled it without destroying it with brute force, Grimmjow thought he would have.
The hollow had stood between Grimmjow and his attack, protecting him from whatever backlash he'd created. If he thought to do that, then consequences weren't lost on him, he was just angry and untethered, something Grimmjow didn't think he'd seen often, and never like this.
Grimmjow blinked in the sudden light of day, realizing Zangetsu was gone. "Zangetsu!" Shit, shit, shit. Grimmjow chased after him in a buzz of sonido. He jumped up to a rooftop for a better vantage point, which consequently put him directly in the open. He grasped the hilt of his sword, but didn't draw, getting a grasp on the situation.
Casting his senses out, he could sense Ukitake and Kyoraku a good distance away at the outer reaches of Seireitei, and Zangetsu was simply there, crossing that distance in an instant, even without Alteza. The hollow was too fast, catching up in time was nothing but a fever dream.
Between his goal and Grimmjow was another captain, that same angry one with the spiky hair, and the one that had captured him. Fuck their names, and fuck it if he couldn't remember them, they were in the way.
He stepped into sonido, cutting a wide arc around anyone that might try to stop him. They noticed him, but since he was stupid enough to run straight at the soutaicho, they let him go with nothing but a curious, concerned glance.
- xxx -
Zangetsu
To say Kyoraku and Ukitake were surprised to see him was an understatement. He saw their confusion and wariness over the blatant shift in his personality, his body language. King had an unnerving smile, but it had nothing on his own. They didn't know King, but they saw enough to know he wasn't the same.
Immediately following that realization, their eyes settled in the dripping dagger in his hand. He didn't know why that worried them, as if even alone he wasn't enough to kill the soutaicho. Zangetsu loathed that shinigami, it was a hatred that spanned years and years, and now he finally had a chance to return all the pain he'd caused King, intentionally or not.
Yamamoto faced him fully, the confidence and derision in his eyes making Zangetsu want to gouge them out. Fire still raged around him, heavy with reiatsu, but this time things were different, this time King wasn't here to hold them both back. The soutaicho said, "You are different."
"Good, so you aren't stupid." He'd sheathed his sword, he didn't want it. He wanted to feel his bones break, he wanted to dig his claws in, feel his blood hot and wet on his hands.
"A hollow can never hide its true nature," said Yamamoto.
Zangetsu moved, too fast for Yamamoto to track, and instinct alone saved the shinigami from feeling his claws in his throat. In a quick exchange of blows, Zangetsu got the upper hand, throwing Yamamoto back and through a line of ruined buildings. He screamed, "What would you know?! You and your stupid laws are what dragged King into this shit in the first place. You think killing him or sealing him away undoes what you did?!"
Ukitake started, "You're going to hold Soul Society responsible for what happened in another time?"
Zangetsu glanced back, but the taicho wasn't of any concern, he was here for the soutaicho. "Soul Society is the gift that keeps on giving I don't fucking like this flavor of Soul Society any more than the last." He snarled, "I hate all of you."
"Taimatsu!" roared Yamamoto. The fire of his shikai seared a line through the space between them, and even with half of Kurosaki's strength, it parted around the dense layer of reiatsu he wrapped around himself and any damage that was done healed instantly.
Yamamoto swung again, but he wasn't in the mood to play games, not with this fucker. He got in close, faster than Yamamoto was expecting, and sank the dagger into his chest, right into his heart. As far as effectiveness, it probably didn't matter where he cut him, but fuck it if it didn't matter to him. King lost everything, that pain didn't just disappear overnight.
The explosion of pent up power was immense, the backlash hitting him almost as hard as Yamamoto, but he was used to taking a beating. Kurosaki lost and lost and failed and he was done letting it happen.
The golden wash of excess reishi filtered into the darkness of la sangre, and the power that left the dagger soaked through and into Kurosaki. Zangetsu jumped back, not wanting his window of opportunity to be taken from him because Kurosaki managed balance. Maybe that was selfish, but he deemed it was worth it.
The power stored in the dagger faded quickly, and to Zangetsu's immense satisfaction, the soutaicho has been forced to take a knee. Blood poured from too many wounds to count, it did nothing to sate his bloodlust. He was breathing harder, he was tired, he was no Aizen.
Zangetsu sensed Kyoraku move, but instead of tearing his focus away and dealing with it, he let the shinigami get close. The cold steel of the taicho's sword rested against the side of his neck, and without tearing his eyes away Zangetsu said, "Try, I don't care. You can't cut King."
Zangetsu walked away, crossing to the soutaicho. He carelessly tossed the spent dagger. It bounced over broken roof tiles and ground to a halt, wedged between the rubble.
Kyoraku didn't follow him, but he questioned, "Can I speak with Kurosaki?"
Zangetsu growled, "No." He blurred into motion, grasping the soutaicho by the beard. He dragged him to his feet, catching his Zanpakuto when he swung it for his neck. It seared his palm, but their regeneration took care of it. "I've wanted to kill you for a long time."
Yamamoto's fire burned hotter, his voice rougher than he remembered, "Do you think that you can?"
Zangetsu leaned in and hissed, "Show me your bankai, jii-san." He could kill him now, but what did it matter if he didn't crush him when he was strong? He let him go only to kick him back. The shinigami blocked his kick, but it didn't slow the force. Yamamoto slid back on his heels, pulling himself to his feet. He barely staggered, the sturdy fucker.
King was getting a hold over die Konigin, he was pushing back for control. Not yet, not when he was so close.
The soutaicho straightened, holding out his zanpakuto. "Bankai...Zanka no Tachi." The flames around him compressed along with his reiatsu. Pure, searing power. Nothing but a fine trail of ash rose from his Zanpakuto. It scorched his throat and wrapped all of Seireitei in a blanket of dry heat.
He'd seen this before, it wasn't new. An angry smile split Zangetsu's face, a laugh bubbling up in his chest. "There was a time King feared you. He saw your power and thought of you as the sun." No longer.
Yamamoto swung his sword, slow, slow slow slow. Zangetsu was running out of time, he drew his sword, the edge of the khyber throwing sparks off the edge of Zanka no Tachi. Then he pushed back with all the reiatsu he had at his disposal, black and red clashing with the sun.
It only took a second, and Zangetsu cleaved straight through Yamamoto's bankai. The Zanpakuto fell in two, the gentle clatter of steel ringing among the ruins. It was so easy, it made him sick. Zangetsu didn't wait to let out the breath he was holding, he was behind Yamamoto, his point of his sword resting between his shoulder blades.
There was the sound of shock from the pair of captains, but they were irrelevant. Zangetsu voice was low, this was for Yamamoto, not them. "If I had the time to spend with you, you would endure every agony you set on King. All of it. Aizen might have had his hand in making him, but you were never shy about using him."
Zangetsu leaned forward, his sword cutting into the bone of his spine, and Yamamoto answered, glancing back at him with that same cold look of judgement he'd come to despise. "My only regret is that I failed to kill you."
Grinding his teeth, Zangetsu's rage doubled. One of the shinigami said something, but he wasn't listening. He hissed, "I won't make that mistake."
"Zangetsu!"
Grimmjow's voice always cut through and Kurosaki pushed back, hard. Not enough time.
All it took was an instant of force, there was barely any resistance at all, and Zangetsu cleaved through the soutaicho's spine, his heart.
It did nothing to quell his anger, his helplessness.
Yamamoto's knees hit the ground, he fell forward, his own weight dragging him off his sword. He fell, his reiatsu fading and leaving behind a void he hadn't known he might miss.
Yamamoto was one of the last people King had felt any joy in fighting, and Zangetsu had stolen that from him. He felt no loss for Yamamoto himself, his hatred ran too deeply for that.
He still felt it wasn't enough. Why was it never enough?
"You killed him…" He didn't know who said it, but their disbelief stemmed from a whole different place than his own.
Zangetsu shuddered, then let King take back control. He pushed his consciousness down, and he knew the dread and regret he could already feel in King would only get worse.
"I did this, King. Don't you dare take it from me."
Forced into King's inner world, Ossan watched him with silent disappointment. He didn't need to say anything, Zangetsu knew how much he disapproved. He'd disapproved the first time, and any moment after where he'd taken over King's will.
His only real regret was taking advantage of King's weakness. Maybe Yamamoto wasn't wrong, maybe hollows couldn't help their true nature, but he didn't care. King mattered, and there was one less shinigami to hurt him.
- xxx -
Hōgu: Treasured Tools ; Quincy and shinigami artifact
Thanks for reading!
Current Espada Ranking
King Strawberry
Fraccion: Grimmjow, Nelliel
0 - Harribel
1 - Ulquiorra
2 - Starrk & Lilynette
3 - Grimmjow
4 - Zommari
5 - Szayelaporro Granz
6 - Shawlong
7 - Cyan, Mila Rose, Apacci (Quimera Parca: Ayon)
8 - Yylfordt Granz
9 - Edrad Liones
10 - Pesche
