Chapter Four – Bitter Rains

It was pouring outside.

The rain's always had a certain significance to Ichigo. For one, Zangetsu hates rain- hates the melancholy waters that pours within Ichigo's soul whenever despair or its ilk settles in. Water also has undercurrents of death- true death- for Ichigo, as his first, bitter taste of defeat was at Byakuya's feet, his face half-buried in the soggy mud of that terrible, stormy night.

It was pouring outside, and boy did he hate it.

"Got nothing but paperwork to keep me company…" he growled under his breath as he sank a knuckle into a thick bundle of triplicated forms. His day job as a dojo trainer was plenty more fun than this- too bad a captain has his duties.

"I can help you," said Chad as he looked up from his manga. "You don't have to do it alone, you know."

"Bah. You did it last week. It's my turn," said Ichigo as he drew up the willpower to tackle the ever-growing mound again. "Dammit, if I knew fighting a Menos would mean this much trouble for a captain…"

"You'd kill it anyhow, and complain later."

"…well, yeah. Duh. Still-."

"Oi! Ichigo!" yelled Isshin from downstairs of the house. "Dinner's ready!"

"Ah, finally. A break. Chad, let's go down," invited Ichigo as he tossed his pen into a cup and leapt over the desk.

"Thanks."

Ichigo eagerly rushed downstairs… and paused mid-stride at the scene of half-burned rice, what seemed to be shapeless, vaguely tentacled bits of sausages and half-cooked greens.

"Hey, Ichi!" said Karin. "Rukia came, and made dinner for us!" There was just the slightest hint of accusation in her voice.

"Oh… uh… hi, Rukia-san."

"Hey, Ichigo!" said Rukia cheerfully as she stuck her head out of the kitchen door. "Your sister offered to teach me how to cook!"

"…how… nice…"

To everybody's relief, dinner was edible.

-----

"Pretty heavy rain out there," said Rukia as she looked out Ichigo's bedroom window.

"Yeah. Tropical storm. Some area's lost power already." Ichigo was leaning on his desk, carefully ignoring the pile of unfinished paperwork behind him. Chad had his nose stuck back in the manga.

"Hey, the Court's going to hold the annual captain's meeting in three days. You going to attend?"

"Tch. How troublesome."

"Your dad could always take up your job- he is your vice-captain, after all."

"Meh. And trust my old man not to make tutus part of the standard squadron uniform? Again?"

"…so you don't want to go."

"…never said that."

They were startled as a deep cough interrupted them. Ichigo turned around, and glared at Chad, who had one eyebrow raised at them.

"You two want some time alone?"

Rukia blushed.

"…alright, don't make too much noise. Your sisters're asleep, Ichigo."

"…he catches me off-guard for some reason," she said as Chad left the room. "And I know he wasn't like this before."

Ichigo grinned. "Yeah. He's changed a bit. Did you know he's going out with somebody now?"

"Wow, really?"

"Yeah! Tatsuki, of all people. I've never seen him more mellow- or her happier."

"Mm. I'm glad for them."

Fingers kissed almost shyly.

"I missed you."

"I know."

-----

Ichigo yawned- and got nudged painfully in the side by Renji.

"C'mon, man, show the old man some respect," whispered the red-haired vice-captain tersely. Byakuya glanced coldly at the pair- his eyes making up for the lack of words from his mouth.

"Sorry, sorry. Been up all night finishing the paperwork."

"Ah, I heard about that Menos. My sympathies."

"Ah-hem!" exclaimed the First Captain, annoyed at the interruption. "As I was saying, Kurosaki, we found more information on that trio you ran into that night, and you damn well better appreciate the effort. The only mentioning of 'Kali,' the Hindu Goddess of Death, in our records happens to lie in the original Scroll of Origins."

"…what?"

"Oh for the love of- Soi Fong, you can explain. Buncha bloody overgrown…"

Soi Fong glared daggers at the two before settling into her report. "As those who had graduated from the Academy knows, Soul Society's shinigami started out early on in mankind's history as a disorganized rabble of human sorcerors and warriors with no communication and no cultural links with each other. There has been numerous stories where two shinigami had ended up killing each other, manipulated carefully by a Hollow aware of both's cultural bias. It wasn't until a shinigami from India and one from Japan got together and forged a formal alliance that the seeds of the modern shinigami history was planted. The Japanese founder's history is known to us- the women isn't. It appears that she had gone mad not long afterwards, and was banished from Soul Society upon its five hundredth anniversary."

"…so she founded the shinigami?" asked Ichigo. "Why didn't anybody know who she was then? You'd think she'd be pretty famous."

Soi Fong gave him an annoyed look. "Our history is a long one, Kurosaki. Many of our oldest records, despite the efforts of our archivists, have long decayed 'til they are unreadable. She's outlived most of our oldest, more venerable souls, and those that remain are either just barely too young to know that much about her, or have become… part of the overall structure of Soul Society."

"Bah," said Yamamoto, First Captain. "I remember her- took a while to dredge it up, though. I was fourth seat of the first established squadron then. She was a madwoman, alright- she didn't care about the people she saved or killed along the way. She only wanted to hunt Hollows."

"Mm. Sounds like my kind of woman," said Kenpachi with a leer.

"She also ate their flesh. Believed that by consuming them, she could gain some sort of insight or knowledge of them- the better to hunt them, you see."

"…blech."

"My thoughts exactly. During one of her bloodfrenzies, she tried to eat a fallen shinigami as well- that was what got her kicked out."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure it was the same woman? The two twins with her- they called her 'Mom,' and as far as I could tell, they're sane. Just…"

"Vicious. Ruthless. Coldhearted. Yes, just as how I remembered her before she got kicked out. You all know of the Vizards, right? They're even more unstable- the original process to create a shinigami takes a human soul not yet departed from the world, and twists them in a fashion not unlike how Hollows are made."

Ichigo shuddered as he remembered his own process. "Like Urahara's Shattered Pit method?"

"Bah. The Shattered Pit's perfectly safe in comparison- probably is as well, considering that Urahara didn't even let you reach that level of training until he was sure you had the spiritual stamina for it.

No, the original method completely destroys the soul, and rebuilds it from the ground up. Slowly, painfully- not for the builder, but for the soul that was shattered. And most of the time, all you get is another Hollow. The fact that Kali managed to make two proto-shinigami speaks well of their own strength, not to mention her own."

"…sounds like a good fight," said Kenpachi eagerly, the bells in his hair ringing ominously. "You want us to catch them?"

"Mm, perhaps not. Hollow activity's been increasing rapidly for the last half-year, especially in the Japan area. As long as they don't cause casualties, they could prove useful- especially to you, Kurosaki," said the old man, meaningfully tapping a thick stack of paper. "How does less paperwork sound to you?"

Ichigo eyed him. "I'm not sure. They're still dangerous- and that bankai of hers completely ruined the park. Almost killed a hobo or two from what the hospitals reported, and Ryoko's still healing to boot."

Yamamoto nodded. "I understand your concern, but we'll have to be lenient. The other teams are locked up to the point that we're more likely to ask your squadron for aid than vice versa. If they do cause trouble- then contact us again. But if all they're doing is hunting Hollows, just try to warn them to keep an eye on the damage they cause."

Ichigo sighed. "Alright, I suppose that's the best we can do."

"Good. Captains, dismissed."

-----

Training is, of course, an absolute necessity for any warrior. How one trains, however, is completely up to personal reference.

Kali's method of training involves far, far too many life-and-death situations. Forcing the brothers to try and kill each other is but the kindest of methods she's used on them. It was, however, undoubtly successful- both were superb warriors, even while they were alive, and the constant dabbling with weaponry until their truest, most natural form's emerged was an innovation Kali was particularly proud of. The brothers've gotten to the point that they're capable of landing a few blows on even her- painful blows at that.

There was, however, a drawback.

To gain Shikai and Bankai level seal releases, a shinigami's required to be able to not only dredge up his weapon's consciousness, but ally himself with it. In most cases, it only takes a few months of hard training to gain Shikai- and ten years for Bankai, as making the sword submit to your will's a lot harder than "merely" talking to it. Kali's training is one of self-dependence- even if they were to gain their soul-cutter, a difficult task requiring fifteen nights of meditation and soul-searing drills, there's no guarantee that they'll be able to reach even Shikai. No guarantee that they'll be able to cooperate with their sword.

But they did. Six years of the hardest training imaginable, but it paid off. Six years of killing everything from a newly born Hollow to a harrowing encounter with one of Aizen's discarded experiments- still far, far too powerful- and they finally Knew their swords' names.

Silver streaks clashed in ringing, bell-like tones as Reijis- five of them- circled Gao, flickering in and out of his vision as blood dripped off the serrated edge of Gao's katars- Indian punching daggers, with half of the arrowheaded blade sweeping down a foot across his outer forearms, sapphire foxheads glinting like a polished Hollow's Mask on the flat of each of the two blades. Gao twisted- and was barely able to bring his blades up in time to catch an enormous no-tachi from splitting him down the middle.

"You're getting slow!" snarled Gao as a surge of ice locked the giant sword onto one katar, the other stabbing at Reiji's midsection- and passing through yet another illusion. "DAMMIT!"

Reiji tapped his brother on the shoulder from behind- and slugged him across the jaw. "Nice catch there."

"Bah," spat Gao, a small dribble of blood coming out from the corner of his lips. "Hate your damned illusions. How much energy did you put into that one? The blade felt real."

Reiji waved a normal katana around. "Most of it. Only enough to finish you off. What's the record now."

Gao mumbled angrily.

"What?"

"Fifteen to four, alright! Stop rubbing it in!"

"Heh. You seemed pissed."

Gao's katars shortened and faded into a dull, matte-black. "Yeah, I am. I… saw Them today, while buying groceries."

Reiji looked at his brother quizzically, and sheathed his sword. "Ah. Mom and Dad. I'm sorry."

"Meh. Whatever. It's been fifteen years- they wouldn't recognize us anyhow."

Reiji patted Gao on the shoulder. "They would've been proud of us. Not too many parents can claim their sons are monster killers."

"Not too many parents can claim that their sons are half-monsters either."

Lightning crackled outside of the abandoned apartment complex they were hiding out in. Heavy rain sloshed over the town as the howl of lost souls echoed through the night.

-----

Lightning crackled, attracted to the proud, tall tower, its thunder just barely muffling the loud, tortured screams of a thousand mutilated monsters.

Aizen smiled, the sharp scent of ozone like perfume to his sense of smell. Power, strength, inevitability- all were characteristics of the storm. All were a part of what he sought- dominion over all.

"Kali," he said, not bothering to turn from the window of his tower. "Good to see you. How are your surrogate sons?"

"Angsty. If they had lived, they would be in their mid-thirties, but you know as well as I that time works differently for the dead. They still feel the echoes of their childhood." Kali faded into sight from the shadows of the room, a quizzical expression on her face as she examined the ex-shinigami captain before her. "You sought me out. What is it you wish to discuss?"

"Power, of course. As was the last time we met. The Gotei 13 had managed to… delay… my ambitions."

Kali shrugged. "I have nothing more to offer you- you promised to control your creations around my subordinates, yet Gao nearly died on that stormy August. I have more than my own skin to be worried about now, after all."

"Ah, yes, and what a change it has wrought on you," murmured Aizen. "Tell me, do you miss the freedom of the Frenzy? My agents have noted that it's been over fifteen years since you last fed-"

A dagger flew out, embedding itself into the wall next to Aizen's left ear.

"You tread on dangerous grounds," said Kali softly as she faded back into the shadows.

"When have I not?" asked Aizen to the emptiness around himself.

The rain poured down over the Hollows' realm like a hail of nails, carving through the ground in its ferocity. A man's spirit howled, his voice turning rasp and echoing as Hollow's teeth tore through his chest.

The storm was gathering.