Lifted Up

by Tomas the Betrayer

Sequel to 'Hammered Down'. Under the shadow of a heaven ruled by monsters, Rukia Kuchiki continues to fulfill her duties with new lives and hearts added to the mix. And above all, there is a mother's love.

2. Winter's End: Aide de Scamp

Off the coast of Peru, the early morning sky was beginning to darken out over the ocean.

Looking up, the boy frowned. He had been keeping himself occupied examining baby sea turtles as they hatched and made for the surf. Several of this early-blooming clutch had already fallen prey to hungry seagulls, and it was his wont to shoo away the swooping birds should they come too close to any under his inspection. Many the time he had been warned about disrupting the balance of nature, but what was the point of having a brain if you didn't use it to make decisions? He had the right to act on his principles, and defending helpless infants regardless of species appealed to him. It was nobody's business how he spent his time anyway.

But now he misliked the look of those clouds. For some reason they reminded him of the ocean itself. There was peril evident in both sides of the vast horizon now. Normally it was just the water he feared. The boy had always sensed there was something dangerous beneath the waves. Even before he was warned exactly what that threat might be, he never set so much as a toe in the waves for fear of what it might attract. To be sure, it had been many years since that particular sense of dread troubled him. One day the source of that foreboding simply disappeared, like it had relocated to he knew not where. In spite of this the boy remained dead set against entering that boundless blue expanse.

Only now, a well-remembered premonition of danger was back. Adding to this time came the sure feeling that it was aimed specifically for him.

The boy did not discount this warning. He had been taught better. It was time to go into hiding for a while. Let this menace pass him by like so many before. With that he drifted off the beach and slipped away into the coastal crags.

---

Two black-clad Viper members stood at attention outside the abandoned detention facility once christened the Maggot's Nest. While certainly quite imposing in appearance, their strict unmoving posture did not necessarily indicate vigilance.

Their commander demonstrated this herself, when she took out both of them before they even knew she was there.

As the pair of ninja collapsed unconscious on the grass, Soifon stepped past them into the undefended tunnel system. The fact that no one was now on guard at the entrance should be little cause for concern. Anyone those two could have dealt with posed no threat to a captain, and as she had just proven, a strong opponent would make short work of them anyway. As long as she was here, the situation remained well in hand. Appropriate reassignment and punishments could be determined later. Her squad members were not supposed to fall so blithely to anyone, captain or no. Excuses did not help you improve or mitigate your failings.

Precaution.

Not to be taken unawares, though, Soifon first made certain to inscribe several kidō spells of varying hostility along the walls as she passed by. These would serve to warn her if anyone followed behind. Satisfied, she proceeded into the main complex.

Once inside the huge underground warren, the head of Viper Company took notice of her surroundings. No sound marked her passage through the derelict prison, not the swish of cloth or even the crunch of gravel underfoot. Soifon moved undetected as a falling leaf. The silence was both soothing and oppressive. It could herald the presence of those lying in wait to launch a sneak attack. Then again, a truly skilled assassin would blend into any ambient noise, unnoticeable by even local wildlife. Some might think this outlook would turn a person into a nervous wreck. And for most of the population that would be the case. But she was the exception, able to retain her sanity while remaining on constant alert. No successful captain of the Onmitsukidō would be otherwise.

Only a few months past, this facility was under Second Divison's direct care, its upkeep and security entrusted to them by the Council of 46. Now neither of those institutions existed anymore, at least not in their previous forms. The 46 had been decimated in its entirety. Shortly thereafter the legislative body itself was disbanded before suitable replacements could even be determined. As for Squad Two of the once-illustrious Gotei 13, it had also undergone a reordering, though of a far less fatal nature. Various elements of the Ninth and Third divisions were integrated with the Second in order to form the company now known as Viper. Whereas before they had been charged with all manner of clandestine maneuvers, the full scope of which were known only to a handful of individuals, now their tasks were much more narrowly constrained. Virtually every one of her subordinates had been astonished to learn that they would no longer be employed in the capacity of assassins. After all, some might say that the Onmitsukidō lived for little else.

How many of her colleagues would be surprised to learn that Soifon had accepted her new responsibilities without any complaint?

It was not a question of liking the new order. Rather she held a very clinical and pragmatic outlook towards her position. As the captain, she sought to represent everything that the post entailed. Members of Viper Squad need look no further than her to find a shining example of how they were expected to behave. However that did not mean Soifon in any way held affection for the duties she performed. She no more relished the taking of life than any other duty, though she performed it with a skill few could emulate and virtually none surpass. Every talent she could lay claim to, every skill at her disposal, served the purpose of carrying out her assigned role.

But while Soifon did embody her position, she did not define it. Her wishes had no bearing on the title of captain. She was not so proud as to think herself worthy of deciding what such a lofty role was meant to require. It was only necessary she ensure that the post was done no disservice by her occupying it. Not every soul was born with some sort of grand purpose, after all. This was why she could risk her own life, and dispose of others, without any compunctions. If she should happen to die, it would be no great loss to the world. Only were she to fail would there be any cause for concern. A replacement could always be found, but the consequences of a task left unfulfilled were not so easily remedied.

All the same, a diligent observer might notice that Soifon's pace this morning was slightly quicker than usual. Which could indicate a desire to be done with her business and leave that wholly unsettling place.

There was nothing further from the truth. The explanation was quite obvious: Soifon was eager to reach her goal, in a way virtually no other reason could be relied upon.

A trip down a long flight of stairs led to the opening of a large well-lit cavern. The ceiling was tiled whereas the floor and sides of this great burrow still showed rough unworked stone. A few chairs or tables were evident, indicating this had once been the main community chamber of the Nest, where inmates were permitted to congregate freely. Now it stood barren.

Careful.

At least to all appearances.

Soifon remained perfectly still, allowing her perceptions of this place to flow together. As soon as she came in it had been evident that something disrupted the harmony of emptiness which should otherwise reign here. Now it was time to determine what that anomaly may be.

When she felt certain of her conclusion, the captain turned and bowed, one fist slapping into her palm with eyes cast downward in genuflection.

"Chōjirō-sama."

Ten feet away, where once to all appearances there had been only an anonymous stretch of wall, a figure emerged. Wearing robes of deepest charcoal brightened by a gold-pinned orange sash across his chest, Chōjirō Sasakibe appraised the woman genuflecting before him. "Feng," he greeted her in response. Neither of them bothered with official titles. It was emblematic of their relative positions here. In this place, at this time, they were not acting in a capacity as guardians of all souls. Socializing was in no way part of the reason behind their meeting.

The golden-eyed elder stepped forward. By the smallest twitch of his fingers did she receive permission to rise. As he passed, Soifon took up step three paces back to show proper deference. This allowed her to gauge the appearance of that proud figure, the oldest of all the current shinigami save for one. Despite the burden of centuries, the uncle of her clan leader displayed no signs of infirmity. In spite of the silver hair he looked to be in the fullness and vigor of adulthood. He had taken his wife's name after marriage, and though she was long since departed, Chōjirō of Clan Shihoin had never resumed his position in the family.

At least not officially. Some things about yourself could not be discarded, no matter the circumstances.

They did not speak any further. Instead the pair of retainers made their way through that empty compound, drawing to a halt before a door which led to the secluded detention wing. It slid open at their approach, and they found themselves facing a morose little girl with twin horsetails on either side of her head.

"Good evening, Ururu-chan," Sasakibe greeted her softly.

"Sir." The tiny guard lifted her skirts and curtsied in a distinctly Western fashion. To Soifon she made a full-form bow at the waist. The captain nodded in recognition, after which Ururu turned and led them down a darkened flight of stairs. After reaching ground level the trio proceeded in silence until coming upon a particular chamber, whereupon Ururu dismantled the spell architecture keeping this room secure while her guests waited patiently. When this was complete the portal opened and she led them both inside.

From behind the bars of her cage, Yoruichi Shihoin looked up at their entry and grinned. "Hey, guys! Glad you could make it."

"Yoruichi-sama," both of her faithful servants spoke and bowed at the exact same time. Soifon, of course, could not help but try and outdo the noble uncle by abasing herself just a bit lower. It was only proper, after all. She was not related to Lady Yoruichi by blood, and must needs show proper deference.

In the meantime, the Viper captain surreptitiously made a note of Lady Yoruichi's condition. A quick appraisal of her soul signature confirmed this was not a gigai simulacrum made to deceive the unwary. Nor did her mistress give any of the secret signals that would indicate she was being coerced in any way. Having confirmed this, there was no mistaking the lady for anyone else. She was wearing what looked to be a white short-sleeved shirt whose hem stopped just below her waist. And nothing more. On anyone else this attire would have been scandalous. Yoruichi managed to make it seem not only proper, but even had Soifon considering how it would look on her own frame. In addition, that skimpy garment allowed her to easily determine that the lady was in no way suffering from malnutrition or evidenced any sign of abuse. Her teeth were in good condition, mahogany skin glowing, purple hair clean and lustrous, eyes bright with no trouble focusing. She was the very picture of health despite being confined in this solitary cell twenty-four-seven.

Confirmed.

Having satisfied herself as to Yoruichi's wellbeing, Soifon turned her attention to the lodgings. While small, there was no shortage of upkeep. Everything appeared clean, although telltale marks in the walls, floor and ceiling told her trained eye that ferocious combat had taken place here, and recently too. Which came as no surprise. For the past three weeks this cell had housed two of the most extraordinary souls in the afterlife. Following the Autumn War, Lady Yoruichi Shihoin had volunteered to incarcerate herself inside the Maggot's Nest, for what one could only assume were good reasons. In the interim she delegated her newly-reinstated roles as head of the Onmitsukidō and the Second division back to her prize pupil. This move was something of a relief, since Soifon had been uncertain what she would do with herself should Lady Yoruichi declare her services were no longer required. Now that issue could be set aside indefinitely, or at least for the time it took the Shihoin heiress to work out any personal problems. Meanwhile her loyal vassal would continue to undertake the roles with which she had been entrusted.

Which brought up an auxiliary issue that was far from pleasing. It had not escaped Soifon's attention that on the other side of those bars lurked another unmistakable form. Even now, curled up in a tattered blanket against the wall with his back facing them, she had no trouble recognizing Kisuke Urahara, former captain, colleague, and warden of this very same prison in which they found themselves. The realization that this loathsome undisciplined outlaw was being granted the privilege of spending every moment whether awake or asleep in Lady Yoruichi's company served to make Soifon clench her jaw in affront. The very idea! Not six months ago, there had been a warrant of arrest and detainment on that head which she would have been only too glad to see collected! Now he was enjoying a level of paradise that she, Shaolin Feng, had never dared to court even in her wildest dreams! It simply did not bear further consideration for the sheer effrontery of it all.

The fact that Urahara had been beaten senseless was duly noted, but it did nothing to deter her firm and justifiable wrath. Though he should feel privileged to be laid low by such divine skill as was possessed by Lady Yoruichi!

If the princess of the Shihoin took notice of this inner categorization on her part, she chose not to remark upon it. Instead Yoruichi crossed her arms over the bars and leaned against them. "Now, I know you're both still tremendously busy, so I'll skip the pleasantries and get straight to the point. I have a job for you."

Upon hearing this, Soifon could not help but grow excited in a way her normal duties never allowed. A secret mission for her patron sovereign! Her fantasies usually began in this way, but now was not the time to dwell on such things. Instead she listened eagerly for whatever must come next.

"Yoruichi-sama," Chōjirō addressed his clan leader then. "While I would be honored to undertake any task you deem fit, I feel it my place to remind you that Soul Society remains in a very tenuous position at this time. Not even a month has passed since the War. With the Rukongai destroyed, we are strained to the limits attempting to care for all the souls that have returned from the Kuchiki safe dimension. The residents have been most patient in this undertaking, but I fear that even striving to our utmost, it will be half a year before we can fashion something permanent in the way of accommodations for them. And that is a cautious estimate."

Soifon did not interrupt. Everything he said was true. Their workload as shinigami had quadrupled in the month since the Autumn War. And lest it be forgotten, their duties in the world of the living remained as well. The shinigami could only devote half their efforts to refashioning this realm. The remainder of their time must be spent escorting any souls lingering on Earth to their final reward. The captains (minus Zaraki, of course) had all agreed early on that the task of soul reclamation could not be allowed to fall behind no matter how daunting the situation in Soul Society. She herself had agreed.

Yes, all that remained true. And yet, should Lady Yoruichi ask it of her, Soifon was prepared to set aside all these concerns in an instant.

Explore.

This was no weakness or selfishness on her part. More like honest deliberation. Already the ninja captain's brain had plotted her course in swift and sensible leaps. She would delegate authority of Viper Company to her new lieutenant, who had taken over following the previous Second Seat's decision to retire. Considering the injuries he received in the fighting, she had permitted him to do so without repercussion. The assignments that had been entrusted to her personally would then either be curtailed or granted to specific teams who could be depended upon to handle those matters satisfactorily. It would have been nice to give her vote on the Captains Council to Sasakibe-sama, but under the circumstances, that honor would be offered to Tessai Tsukabishi, another longtime associate of her patroness (and of a far more reliable persuasion than that blonde twit!). After all, Chōjirō had officially resigned as a lieutenant, though he still functioned in the capacity of a death god.

As it turned out, these preparations were rendered moot when Yoruichi spoke next. "Don't worry, you won't have to go anywhere just yet, otooji-san. It's not quite time for that stage." She squatted down with hands resting on her knees and regarded them both in a serious manner which sent a shiver up Soifon's spine. "Simply put, I want the two of you to bring someone to me."

Alive?

"In what state do you want them, Yoruichi-sama?"

The golden-eyed inmate smiled as if they were sharing a private joke. Before Soifon could even register the rush of pleasure this instilled in her, those eyes flashed a very dangerous light. This served the same effect as a bucket of icy water dousing her ardor, so that the next soft-spoken word felt like a cold knife slid into her spine. "Alive."

Soifon had to fight the instinct to swallow in a suddenly dry throat, turning her attention back as their mistress continued to instruct them. "The person in question is hard to find, which is why I'm first sending Ururu here to look for him." Yoruichi gestured over to the girl, who looked uncomfortable under their collective stares before giving a slight nod in acceptance. Satisfied, the cat goddess continued. "Once he's been located, she'll report back to Jinta and you can handle the rest. Considering how good the target is at hiding, it'll probably take her a while to dig up anything, which means you'll have plenty of time to attend to your duties. But even once he's located, he'd never just come along willingly. So if I'm not out of here by then, I need somebody dependable to catch him."

Their princess settled back on her hands and regarded the two vassals. "Sound good?"

"Of a certain, Yoruichi-sama," Chōjirō inclined his head gravely. "Thank you for taking our situations into account, I should have expected no less from you. Rest assured that when the time to call upon us arrives, we shall both be prepared to fully offer our services on your behalf."

Soifon simply knelt and pressed her forehead to the stone by way of showing acceptance. This served to illustrate there had never been any need for the Lady of Shihoin to doubt her own devotion in whatever way might be required.

In the back of the cell, a brief groan came from Urahara's huddled form. His cellmate glanced back in appraisal before returning her attention to their visitors. "That's all for now. I'll give Ururu all the information she needs and she in turn will impart it to you. Hopefully we won't need to speak again until everything's been resolved. I know that I can rely on your best efforts." This time when she smiled, it held so much warmth it was as though the sun had risen right in front of them. "Thank you both for doing this."

Peering up at such an amazing sight, Soifon's heartbeat raced at this token of high esteem. Upon feeling her face go slightly red, she hurriedly looked down at the floor in order to keep that shameful reaction hidden. A slight movement on Yoruichi's part must have been a permission to leave, as Sasakibe rose and began to back out with Ururu close behind. Soifon followed suit. On the edge of the doorframe, however, a thought occurred to her. Initially hesitating to speak it, she finally decided it could not do any harm.

"Yoruichi-sama?"

The Goddess of Flash glanced over with raised eyebrows. "Hmm?"

An urge to fidget uncomfortably was quelled without mercy. "If it is not too much trouble, might we be permitted to know the name of the target? In the interest of preparing for our mission."

Yoruichi did not look surprised at this understandable request. "No problem. His codename is 'Masahiko'." She then turned back to where Urahara lay, raising a hand in dismissal as she did. "Happy hunting, now!"

The door shut before her. Soifon considered this information while Chōjirō and the little golem moved further away. She knew the codename of every contact and target on file with the Onmitsukidō, and there was no one by that title. Could this be a sign? Was Lady Yoruichi trying to tell her something?

Secret?

Whatever the case, when she was eventually called in to act, there was no way she would let the target get away from her. This case shall be resolved to the satisfaction of all concerned.

Spell.

Ah, yes. I must warn Chōjirō-sama before he walks into those traps I set up. Disciplining inattentive underlings was one thing. Incapacitating a nobleman quite another. With that, Soifon took off down the hall in pursuit.

---

It felt so natural just to be sitting here that Kon could hardly bring himself to speak for fear of discovering it was all a dream. In spite of this he found himself blurting out, "I knew you'd be back soon!"

In response Rukia held out another dumpling with her chopsticks that he took eagerly. She then went back to eating from her small neat bento box. In spite of this being food from Soul Society Kon found he could still handle it like ordinary fare, which was news to him. Perched atop a children's playground slide shaped like a penguin, the two of them continued their repast while watching the crew of shinigami engaged in their work.

Kon took a bite and studied this undertaking uncomprehendingly. "What are those guys doing, Nee-san?"

She placed a fried shrimp in her mouth, chewing daintily before speaking. "Undoing the spells left behind by Matsumoto Rangiku."

"Seriously?" He looked on the proceedings with interest. Nearly a dozen shinigami were toiling on a deserted stretch of road. Any pedestrians or vehicles coming their way seemed to unconsciously make a detour around them without noticing what they were doing. This was something unprecedented in the mod soul's experience. "Doesn't seem like much going on. Other than waving their arms and a lot of talking."

"We have to be careful in case there is more here than predicted." Placing the bento to one side, Rukia hoisted her sheathed soul cutter up onto one shoulder. Her plum-colored eyes observed the proceedings intently. "The Thirteenth Division originally specialized in the handling of curses, spells and magic gone awry. Our specialty was fighting Hollows that favored unconventional methods over the mundane tooth-and-claw variety. That was our duty in the Gotei 13. We were a purification detail, you could say, dealing with enemies whose influence might last beyond their defeat. Quite the opposite of the Eleventh, in that you would hardly find any shinigami in our ranks whose zanpakutō was direct-assault-based."

Kon took this opportunity while she was absorbed in explanation to study Rukia. Her uniform had changed from what he remembered. While still black, it no longer resembled the outdated style of dress that previously defined a shinigami. Instead she was sporting a long overcoat with a high narrow collar that enclosed her throat. A band of white ran from neck to waist, where the jacket split in front to form a flowing hem that reached down to her ankles and flapped like wings when she walked. Tight-fitting sleeves ended in thin gloves attached at the cuffs that could be slipped off to dangle loose or tucked into pockets around her wrists. A white sash wrapped around her waist. She still wore baggy hakama trousers, only now wooden sandals had been replaced with soft black tabi shoes that had the outline of the old-fashioned rope laces sewn into them in silver thread. Kon had no idea what material this uniform was made of, but he got the feeling it was stronger than it looked, and definitely offered more protection than the flimsy getup all shinigami had been required to wear before. More modern, to be sure. In spite of this she seemed comfortable in it.

Actually, it kinda reminded him of the outfit that smiling traitor-captain had worn when he saw him briefly back during the War. But Kon did not dare mention this. Instead his gaze drifted downward to focus on her left arm. More specifically, to the small wooden badge with the outline of a bird burned into it. He knew what that meant. Some things don't change. "Those guys down there all work for you, don't they? You're their boss now."

Her fingers reached to touch that wooden seal in what he guessed was becoming a habit. Like she needed to make certain it hadn't disappeared. "I gained the position of lieutenant in Heron Squad shortly after its formation."

"Heron?" That name didn't jive with what he knew about the Gotei 13 from talking to Ichigo and the others.

"Yes." Lieutenant Kuchiki lifted her chin to study the heavens. "There are seven divisions now in place of the old thirteen. Their names are Heron, Viper, Siamese, Tiger, Leopard, Ibis, and Greyhound. Heron is made of my old squad, the Thirteenth, in addition to the Fourth. Viper is Second division mixed with elements of both Ninth and Third. The Eighth joined the Tenth to make Leopard Company, while First, Sixth and Seventh formed Greyhound. The Eleventh absorbed certain volatile former prisoners of Seireitei who were handed over by the Onmitsukidō and so became Tiger. And the Twelfth took on recruits from the Fifth, renaming itself Ibis. Any leftovers or those who didn't fit a particular mold turned into Siamese, which actually made it one of the largest."

Numbers and tiny animals were running around Kon's brain in a confusing jumble, all being chased by little bouncing bunny rabbits. It was too much to take in at once. He shook his head vigorously and concentrated on what he did understand. So Neesan got a new gig. On the one hand, it was nice to know that Rukia was doing well in her job. But on the other, this probably meant she would not be sticking around for very long. As he understood it, lieutenants didn't get the chance to go off on their own very much. The result being that he wasn't quite sure how to feel about this news. Gotta say something, though.

"So you're doing pretty well for yourself. Good for you, Rukia-neesan!"

"Hmm." The noblewoman nodded primly without further comment. Meanwhile Kon continued to regard her in a new light. It was oddly exhilarating the way this beautiful soul sat there all reserved and demure when she now had the power to command legions of shinigami. Turns out a powerful woman was more of a turn-on than he had ever realized.

Kon couldn't resist asking. "Say, Nee-san, can you do me a favor?"

Rukia glanced over at him. "What?"

"Boss around some of your underlings for me! Really make 'em shiver in their shoes!"

One of her short eyebrows rose in response to this odd request. Undeterred, Kon found he was getting more worked up as his imagination roared into high gear. "Do you have a whip you can crack? Or maybe leather stilettos you can step on a guy's head with! I wanna see how you look when you're barking out orders and making 'em grovel at your f-AGH!"

This last exclamation resulted from the tip of Sode no Shirayuki's sheathe being driven into the back of Kon's head, slamming the deviant teddy face-first into the playground roof and pinning him there. While he flailed wildly and made muffled exclamations, Rukia snatched another bite of her meal and chewed with a moody frown, resolutely refusing to look at what she was doing to him.

After a while she relented and set him free. Kon came upright with a gasp. He sat there panting heavily for a while. Eventually the little lion's head bowed down, and a violent shiver rocked his frame. Rukia regarded him curiously while continuing to chew. To her surprise, when Kon's chin lifted he was smiling with tears in his eyes.

"Damn, I've really missed that! And you, Nee-san!" he wheezed happily.

At this, the lavender-eyed lieutenant swallowed before cracking a smile. "I'm glad."

They went back to watching the purification ceremony. A minute later Kon finally worked up the courage to ask what had been bothering him. "So this is just an assignment. You're not here to stay again, are you?"

"No." Rukia passed a hand through her hair and exhaled slowly. It was enchanting seeing her with eyes half-closed, a wistful look on her face while snow fell through her spectral form. He almost missed what she said next so taken was he by her. "I just saw an opportunity and… went. Nanao sent us the intel and Heron was assigned to remedy the situation. Captain Kotetsu didn't tell me not to go, so it isn't like I did anything wrong."

It sounded like she was rehearsing an explanation for when she finally got back. Kon started to feel desperate knowing that their time together was short-lived. "They're all okay!" he hurriedly sought to reassure her. "The twins, Orihime, even Chad and Pencil… I mean, Uryū."

She shifted a bit to regard him. "And Ichigo?"

Here Kon hesitated. Should he tell the truth or gloss it over? Maybe it didn't matter and the Dragon Lady had already informed her old colleagues about everything. Agh, this is taking too long, she'll know something's up!

"He's… no good. Without you, I mean. It's really eating him up not having you around."

The shinigami did not respond. She quickly looked back towards the worksite. All the same, he could see how much that statement hurt. While Rukia's attention seemed riveted on the job at hand, Kon suspected her thoughts were far away, with a certain orange-haired substitute shinigami.

He truly hated Ichigo right then. For making his Nee-san look so sad. And more importantly, for the real reason behind it. Now Kon felt he was right back to where he had been before Rukia showed up. Miserable, and disconsolate. Completely dissatisfied with himself. In spite of her pretty much being the single most important person in his world, their relationship was nowhere near as strong as the one she had with Ichigo. Because when you came right down to it, the kid won out by the simple fact that he could lay claim to a living body at any time, while Kon was forced to work with castoffs and loans. Why did it have to be that way? His heart was just as good (if not better) than that punk's! Why did he always get the short end of the stick?

Unnoticed beside his beloved, Kon stewed. It was unfair that he should lose out on a forced technicality! He literally threw himself at her. He boldly expressed his affection, while Ichigo could barely fumble through a sentence regarding Rukia. And yet, no matter what happened, he remained a mod soul. Which meant no real chance at winning her heart. Sure, folks might say it's what's inside that counts. But they never had to deal with a situation like this, now did they? No real body to call his own. And that's the way it would always… always be!

Unless that changed.

It was like something drained out of him then. Not in a bad way; more like a stopper had been pulled, and a wall that previously stood between them dissolved. It left Kon sitting there with Rukia in a sense they hadn't been before. The situation had changed, and the whole world felt different as a result. But did she realize it?

"Nee-san… I want a shot."

Rukia looked down at him. "Shot?"

She had no idea how gorgeous she was right then, with the snow falling all around her. He wished to take her hand and lead her off to someplace private where he might let her know the new determination that had awoken inside him. Maybe it was a result of the narrowly averted tragedy today; a combination of his self-reproach at being unable to save Karin on his own and now finding Rukia so close to him and yet still beyond his reach. Whatever the reason, there was no longer any excuse to hold back.

Kon picked himself up, dusting off the snow that had collected on his small form. "A shot at living," he explained. "I don't want to be just a mascot anymore. I want… something real! A body to call my own, and everything that comes with it. Do you know what I mean?"

Her face became troubled. "Kon…"

"You can do that, right?" It felt like whatever constituted his heart was going a mile a minute, faster than his own unsurpassed leg speed. The words came tumbling out as a result. "You've got the authority now. If you really ask, you can get me a gigai all my own! And then I can use it to…"

She was looking at him so intently it almost felt like he was no longer simply a stuffed mascot. At least not in her eyes. Almost as if she was seeing him for all he was worth, all the potential he… or rather, they might have. Right then there could have been no more perfect opportunity to say what really needed to be said.

Instead all his conviction failed him, and he found himself mumbling, "… protect… the people I care about. I mean, you and the girls. Like a real man does!"

Rukia still hadn't spoken. Furious at himself for chickening out, Kon still resolved to try and salvage as much as he could out of this moment. "Nee-san, you stood up for me when all this business started. That saved my life. Ichigo might have done the same, but… it was you. Up until now I just did whatever anybody needed from me at the time. And if protecting him and his family is the best I can accomplish for you right now, then I want to be able to put in the most effort I can! But when I'm like this…"

He cast a glance down at his fuzzy tube-sock of a body before resolving to meet her eye with a determined air. "That's just not good enough," Kon declared. "I don't want to be at a disadvantage when it counts. I want to have all the same concerns they do, so that I never miss out on something important. And maybe when it's all over and I'm not needed anymore, there'll be good stuff waiting for me."

Looking back at his own words, it felt like he had managed to convey the gist of his longing without really letting the truth slip. Would that be enough to sway his cool and highly unpredictable Neesan?

"Kuchiki-fukutaichou."

Oh, crud. Looking down, Kon found they had been joined by one of her division flunkies. He was dressed in the same new duds as Rukia, only not as high quality. And he had a face like a brick wall. The one consolation at being interrupted like this was seeing how obviously nervous the guy was to be addressing his superior.

By contrast Lieutenant Kuchiki was cold as ice. "Yes?"

The death god bowed forward. "Ma'am, we've successfully stabilized this final area. No other incantations could be detected. Shall we proceed back?"

She stood up, retrieving her bento and sliding it into a pocket of her coat. "Yes. Inform Soul Society of our progress, then dismantle the barriers. Have hell butterflies readied for our return." Just when Kon thought she had discarded his previous appeal, Rukia looked down at him. "When you get back, take a report to Iemura-san about everything we found here. There's something I have to deal with on my own."

"Yes, fukutaichou," the man bowed once more before hurriedly taking off.

It was a little scary the way she said that, not to mention how she looked right now. When they were alone again, Rukia knelt beside her ardent admirer. She slid one of her gloves back on, mouthing a brief incantation as she did. Immediately blue energy flowed around it, and the familiar symbol of a flame-encased skull appeared on the glove's palm. Rukia regarded him for a while. "You're sure about this, Kon? You won't be able to move around as freely as before. It means a drastic alteration on your part that could take some getting used to."

Untroubled, he regarded her steadily right back. "I know what I want, Nee-san." And maybe someday, you will too.

"All right, then. If you're certain." With that she tapped him lightly on the forehead. Immediately the green marble containing his soul emerged from the plushie's mouth. As the doll collapsed she caught him before he could hit the snow. Held securely in her palm, Kon experienced a rush of déjà vu. This was like that very first day together, when all his fears had disappeared at finding himself cradled in this strange young woman's fist. What better way to start anew?

"You'll have to remain in pill form for the trip. Your vessel couldn't come through without time-consuming measures. But even so, it's going to be tricky business from here, make no mistake, Kon."

'Believe me, I know. But it's worth it, Nee-san.'

"That's decided, then." So saying she slipped him into her pocket and leapt across the park to join her troupe.

---

Nanao Ise did not consider herself a prig. She would not balk at anything unclean on principle, nor did she automatically condemn behavior in others that clashed with her own. In fact, she liked to think of herself as a very accommodating individual. One of the benefits of living around a thoroughly hedonistic yet likable man for decades: it tended to rub down any hard edges concerning such behavior. This allowed her to temper what might otherwise be an instinctive need to provoke confrontations.

"Gimme a kish, baby!"

Nanao whirled and slammed a tightly clenched fist into the nose of the drunken slob approaching her. "SHŌ!" she roared at the same time. This added the strength of kidō to an already quite powerful punch, resulting in her tipsy admirer spinning end over end before colliding with a pack of his equally wine-soaked fellows. She then strolled by the large tangle of groaning limbs and spilled fluids with all proper decorum.

Yes, a tempered response. Were it not for her finely honed sense of appropriate behavior, that might have gotten out of hand. They should all take note of her discretion and learn a very valuable life lesson.

Did you think he was cute? I thought he was cute. Maybe you could nurse him back to health and then the two of you might hit it off?

Such matters have no bearing on our reason for being here.

Oh, you always say that! Seriously, one of these days, you're going to find a man, and I'm going to be just thrilled.

Can we discuss this another time, Ureshii?

Fine. I'll go update my picture collections, then. Maybe I'll run across somebody perfect for you! Say, do you remember that officer from the Fourth people always confused you with? I've got his picture around here somewhere, let me just…

Nanao tuned out her zanpakutō's latest flight of fancy in favor of locating her target. Fortunately for her he had been in the material plane. A simple casting of Bakudō 58 proved sufficient to pinpoint the person in question somewhere in this spirit hostel. Situated amidst the ruins of an old temple in the jungles of Cambodia, it was a favorite stopover for members of the former Eleventh division. Many a wild and raucous party had been held in these ancient halls of carved stone. The locals avoided it altogether, believing that unhealthy spirits inhabited the former site of worship. Some spoke of viewing strange lights within or catching eerie noises that emanated from that long-forgotten temple. More than a few legends had been born here, the type in which some luckless wanderer stumbles upon a party of demons and is forced to participate in their revelries before being allowed to go free, usually based on his ability to outwit the fiends and thus escape a terrible fate.

Glancing around at the drunken force of death gods, Nanao had to wonder just how much intelligence it would take to outwit these buffoons. She had retired from her position in Soul Society shortly after they managed to codify a new structured hierarchy. Actually, the reincarnated Gotei 7 was as much her doing as anyone else's. She had labored tirelessly to fashion a system that would allow the shattered thirteen divisions to congeal together into an effective force once more. Such an undertaking came naturally to her, and she suspected the captains had been more grateful than they let on to have her skills assisting them in this heavily administrative task. The comprehensive outline she left them in terms of rules pertaining to division of labor, logistics, communication, punishment, inter-squad relations and even academic training was hailed by many as an absolute masterpiece. It worked so well it made the old way of doing things seem positively archaic. The fact that she could produce a system of such caliber in just a few days was taken as further proof of Lieutenant Ise's genius.

Actually, Nanao had been idly designing setups like this for decades. It was a sort of hobby for her. After all, she was not blind to the failings that existed in the Gotei 13 throughout her tenure as a shinigami. Over a century of devoted study on the matter yielded several concepts which seemed so perfectly obvious it surprised her no one had them before. Of course, there was the possibility that someone did indeed put forth such proposals, and been quietly hushed up. That sort of thing happened more often than anyone below officer level might suspect. Which was why she had wisely chosen to keep quiet. And so her meticulously tailored plans remained as nothing more than filler in drawers. On the rare occasion when Nanao went out drinking with her lady friends, she could be goaded into explaining some of her ideas, provided enough alcohol had been consumed. But as with so many great proposals that were revealed through guzzling booze, nothing truly lasting came from it.

Until now. Unfortunately, the results in this case were hardly flattering. Well, Siamese Company was always intended to be a mop-up crew. You needed that sort of thing in any organization. No great expectations.

A body sailed through the air in front of her, followed by a loud chorus of approving cries. The slender bookworm narrowed her eyes against another urge to do violence against the offending parties. Something told her no ideas would be forthcoming from this night's festivities, great or not. Just a lot of killer hangovers. It was rather dispiriting to see all her organizational efforts reduced to nothing thanks to these goons. They could try to act a little less like Tiger Company for her taste. It wouldn't do to have two bunches of destructive morons running about the dimensions.

Still, there was no time to waste attempting to discipline this sorry lot. With her spell still active, Nanao knew exactly where to go. She left the party being held in the sanctum sanctorum and moved through narrow corridors that sported a wealth of carvings. These marks detailed legends and history that predated her own time by centuries. It seemed disgraceful they were only looked upon by happy soused ghosts.

At the very least, though, there seemed to be one other person here not joining in the festivities. When she came upon a small room off to one side, a voice called out to her.

"C'mon in, Nanao-san. My door's always open."

There was, in fact, no door to speak of. The room she stole into was bare, its trappings and furniture having been looted or smashed ages ago. Only moonlight entered in through several narrow windows high up. Such illumination was completely unnecessary for her to determine the room's sole occupant. His powerful aura ensured no one need ever overlook him. Sprawled on his side, her host seemed absorbed in several of the new data pads spread on the floor.

"Yo," he greeted her easily without bothering to rise or look up.

In contrast to this laid-back behavior, the former lieutenant observed all proper protocols. Kneeling down, she inclined her head in greeting. "Abarai-taichou."

Renji Abarai, the captain of Siamese Company, made no further response. He continued to shuffle through the small collection of screens before him, a mighty frown causing the tattoos on his forehead to take on new shapes. Whatever he was reading there was obviously not to his liking. The white haori he wore, a concession to the old ways, was sleeveless in the style once favored by captains like the Sixth and Third. Other than that Renji had seemingly adopted the new uniforms advocated in her prodigious refashioning of shinigami customs. His own was distinguished by a red band that cut down the front. Each new division had their own color.

It really brings out his hair, don't you think?

These armored outfits were based on designs once proposed by Captain Kurotsuchi for use by all shinigami. Initially so invasive as to be incapable of removal once put on, the mad scientist had found the time to address those concerns prior to his… disembodiment. The resulting material was extraordinarily durable and lightweight, composed of specially treated reishi that served to protect the body while maintaining a flexibility of movement they were all accustomed to by now. It relied upon the user's own reiatsu to function properly, meaning that the stronger the individual, the more powerful the armor became. Also, spiritual loss to the environment was restrained thanks to the fabric's construction, which prevented any enemies so inclined from leaching off the wearer's own strength. Apparently this was done specifically in the case of combating Quincy, the reason for which was pretty obvious if you knew the creator's history. It was a very impressive and long-overdue concession to the old Gotei 13's embarrassment of a casualty rate. With their numbers reduced, it was only natural that such a modification be included in the refashioning of traditional ways.

Coming back to the present, Nanao resolved not to speak further. Renji seemed absorbed in studying whatever information had been relayed to him. She herself had a pet peeve about being bothered while working. Many was the former subordinate in the Eighth who had been chastised harshly for interrupting her during a marathon paperwork session. Certain important things in life required one's total attention. For this she was willing to wait upon the captain's pleasure until he felt it suitable to begin.

The rugged death god made a disgusted noise through his teeth. He rubbed his neck as if to ease out a kink, then dropped the data pad with an exclamation of disdain. "Dammit, I cannot figure all this crap out!"

His eyes flickered over to her then, and she could read the plea implicit in that look. Without another word Nanano rose and glided forward. She retrieved all the data tablets, nimble fingers gliding over their surfaces to call up the pertinent information. Currently the screens were a jumbled mess, and she applied her skills to discard all irrelevant data and leave only that which was necessary for the obvious business at hand. When this was finished Nanao handed them back to Renji.

He examined the new readouts. "Oh. That actually makes a lot more sense. Haven't lost your touch, I see."

She continued to wait while he read through the reports. Eventually Renji left off his studies and fixed his eyes on her. He looked her up and down closely. Then a small smile curled his lips, making him appear much less imposing than before. "You're looking good, Paper Master. Retirement suits you."

Nanao couldn't help but wonder how many nicknames she had been given throughout the years, the majority of which only seemed to come into play now that she was no longer a lieutenant. Still, that hardly mattered at the moment. "It's about as much work as before," she explained. "I've never lived with an actual family in any capacity up 'til now. The Kurosakis can be nearly as infuriating as Captain Kyōraku."

The high-ranking officer nodded in understanding. Then he actually laughed. When she looked at him inquiringly, he responded with, "It's strange talking to you out of uniform. I never knew Lieutenant Nanao Ise to discuss anything other than work. That crazy bunch really has been working their magic on you!"

It was true. In addition, Shunsui had often remonstrated her for being too terse with people. 'All business', he used to state in description of her social skills. Now that she was living on her own, Nanao had decided that was indeed an area of her personality requiring improvement.

And so, having fulfilled all social requirements to her own satisfaction, the sorceress got down to brass tacks. "I'm here to talk to your co-seat."

"Ah," Renji grinned. "That's more like it." He propped himself up to cross his arms over his chest. "I guess this visit has something to do with Hueco Mundo then."

It was rather pleasant to be treated with as much accommodation as he was showing. Not all the captains were so receptive to her entreaties following her decision to leave. A natural craving for knowledge made Nanao ask the next question. "How is the situation over there?"

His eyebrow tattoos were back to wiggling in consternation. "Total mayhem. But that's to be expected with anything concerning Zaraki and the Ele… I mean, the Tigers. Siamese has its hands full just getting anybody to stop swinging long enough to give us a report." His face split in a grin then. "I'm pleased to report that we are considerably more disciplined than that bunch."

There came a loud crash from back down the hall, and what sounded like a bunch of big merry idiots laughing hysterically. Nanao turned back to their commander with one eyebrow raised ever so slightly. She couldn't help noticing that Renji's cheeks were just a bit pink. "RIKICHI!" he shouted loud enough to be heard across the valley. "TELL THOSE IDIOTS TO KEEP IT DOWN!"

"Yes, Captain!" a voice called from out in the hall, followed by the sound of someone scurrying away.

Renji smacked one fist on his knee and ground his teeth, growling like a dog. "I oughtta kill those mooks for making me look stupid!"

Nanao shifted her glasses to hide any irritation. "Taichou, I don't mean to intrude on your command, but is this really the best use of the men's time while you're on furlough? I know how difficult it must be for you all as the liaison between our forces in Soul Society and Hueco Mundo, but still, they seemed nearly as uncontrolled as Tiger Company when I came through."

"It's not that bad!" the young captain insisted in somewhat of a panic, apparently having forgotten their relative positions. He was rushing to explain himself like she still had some measure of authority. Perhaps in his mind she did. "I mean, at least we maintain a sense of… uhh, unit integrity in the field!"

He's dreamy when he gets flustered. I wonder how he would react if you kissed him right now?

I am not going to behave like a woman of loose morals, Ureshii Onnanoko. Try and keep that in mind.

His long red cockscomb rustled as Renji's head dropped forward. "You should see things over there, Nanao-san," he spoke softly and in a much more somber mood. "We've witnessed worse stuff being done than I ever thought possible. I don't know if those Vaizard really had a plan on how to handle things going in, but ever since they lost one of their own, they've forgotten everything but fighting. Whenever we go back, it's like whatever we managed to accomplish before has been completely destroyed. Sometimes I think it's not worth bothering at all."

His head came up then. "So yes, I think some actual honest horsing around is just what my men need. Without threats of any kind. They need to remember that they're not considered to be just expendable soldiers anymore. There's life outside the fighting. That was the plan all along, right? I wanna make sure my guys at least never forget that." A faint but certain smile caused his face to lighten. "And you never know. Some amazing things can result from drunken parties."

The expression he wore was far more sober than just a moment ago, reminding Nanao that not only was this man now a captain, but he had willingly taken on what could very well be the most difficult job of them all. That alone spoke volumes for his growth in terms of maturity. It increased the respect she held for Abarai far more than any white robe could ever do. The battlefield hero of the Autumn War had truly come into his own, as a leader of men and as a man himself.

Nanao, are you blushing?

What? No! Stop being ridiculous, we're losing track of the conversation. Honestly!

"I respect your reasoning, Abarai-taichou. But back to the matter at hand…"

"Oh, right," he perked up then. "You came to talk with Neliel." His head lifted as though he were reaching out with his senses, though nothing could be discerned through the spiritual avalanche that was his division. It looked like his ears twitched slightly. Then Renji turned back to her and said, "She's up on the roof. Her boys are with her, and they're getting their freak on. You might want to wait until they're finished or they might decide to drag you in on it." He coughed in a somewhat embarrassed manner. "Speaking from experience, mind you."

What do you think he means by that?

Whatever it is, we are definitely not getting involved in their debauchery.

But it could be fun!

Do you honestly think that would sway me?

I guess not…

Very good.

"I see. Thank you for your help, Taichou. I won't keep her long, I just need to ask some questions. " Nanao rose upright, then hesitated. " Is there anything else I can do for you before leaving?"

"Nah, I'm good. But thanks. Come on back anytime, Nanao-san. Don't be a stranger!"

"I appreciate the invitation." Though I can hardly see myself ever taking it up, she added silently.

As she began to rise upwards towards the ceiling, Renji suddenly called out. "Wait, Nanao-san. Just one thing…" When she looked down at him, the captain stirred a little uncomfortably. But his eyes held no doubt when they rose to regard her. "Is it true Rangiku showed up on your turf?"

Her head tilted backwards, and she regarded him from below the rim of her glasses. "It is."

"Hrrm." Abarai Renji reached down to touch the zanpakutō tucked into his sash. "Just don't underestimate her, okay? She's a lot smarter than some people gave her credit for. And a lot stronger too. I think she might have actually been the most powerful out of all the lieutenants before I gained bankai."

"I know," Nanao responded softly. "Thank you."

She didn't really need him to tell her that. Half a hundred dead shinigami would serve as ample warning to just how strong and crafty a person might be. But the sentiment was appreciated. With a final bow she took her leave, floating up to pass through the ceiling and into the open air. The sounds of the festivities below still reached her ears. Added to the din, however, was a noise unlike anything else. Intrigued, Nanao floated gracefully in pursuit of this mystery.

On the highest reaches of the overgrown temple, cracked and weathered stone that had withstood the test of time now found itself being put to a very unorthodox use.

Wow. Didn't know people could bend that way.

Indeed.

Under the moonlight, a half-naked woman and two scar-faced men in loincloths were engaged in a synchronized dance performance.

It was almost hypnotic in its sheer incongruity and… weirdness. But there was no doubting the talent on display. When their leader whipped her long green hair around and gyrated her hips, both men copied these movements at precisely the same time. Eyes closed, the lead dancer swayed smoothly back and forth. A few feet away a music device suddenly picked up its tempo. For all the world, it sounded like… pop music. The sort commonly preferred in the living world nowadays. The dancers responded in kind, the woman lifting one knee diagonally across her body while putting both hands on the shoulders of the men to either side. Each then dropped down and proceeded to engage in what looked like one-handed push-ups with their legs spread wide apart. A quick reversal of position, and now all three lay on their backs, legs kicking playfully in the air.

All other instruments dropped off until there was only a snare drum for tempo. At this cue the trio then crossed their legs at the knee, one foot wagging in lazy time to that beat. Without warning the instrumental score started up again at which point the dance party bolted upright. They followed one another in a line, taking two steps and halting, bent at the waist with backs curved while their hands spun around one another in circles before flicking off to either side. It oddly reminded Nanao of chickens scratching in the dirt for feed. Yet somehow, they managed to do even this with grace.

A loud burst of sound came, and the men rushed down the roof while their limber leader began performing a set of somersaults and flips in that direction. The speed at which she spun made Ise dizzy just watching. When this world-class gymnast reached a certain point her legs bunched beneath her, and she uncoiled up from a crouched position to go shooting into the sky as though shot from a cannon. Her cohorts positioned themselves below, catching the falling star so that she ended resting on their palms. She flung out her arms, kicked up her heels and struck a pose there on the roof of the temple. The men remained frozen for support.

Right then the music cut off.

Panting, Neliel tu Odelschvank, co-captain of Siamese Squad, took a deep breath and let it out with a laugh. She looked down, finally noticing the silent witness to their performance.

"Oh, hey."

Without any sign of discomfort at being caught in this odd display, the former Espada vaulted down and strode forward. She picked up a tattered white robe off the ground, using it to dry her face off as she approached. "What can I do for you, Nanao-sensei?"

Do that again! Please tell her to do that again from the beginning!

Oddly enough the sword's wielder found herself tempted to make the very same request. Instead Nanao took in this woman who exercised near total control over the largest squad of shinigami in existence today. Unlike her troops, Nel did not opt for wearing armor of any kind. Her concessions to dress included a short black sleeveless shirt that left her midriff bare, over which was a dark leather cowboy vest complete with tassels dangling off it. To accentuate the Western motif she also sported a pair of black open-backed chaps on her legs that had as much fringe as anything else. However, in place of pants Nel elected to wear only something that could easily pass for a swimsuit bottom, also in shades of black. What this meant was that when she turned around to instruct her companions they should take a break, Nanao was treated to not only a very close shot of her bare legs, but also the female captain's full posterior. It made her avert her eyes resolutely until the other woman came back around.

"I am… sorry to disturb you, Neliel-taichou, but… that is to say, I would have called ahead, only you weren't…"

Light brown eyes watched her with curiosity as the former Tercera Espada tugged on a battle-worn white robe. This whole affair was making Nanao dreadfully self-conscious. Only a few inches of height separated them, but all the same, she couldn't help feeling… small… compared to Neliel. Of course this had nothing to do with how it looked like the arrancar was smuggling watermelons in her shirt. It was more owing to the powerful aura that surrounded this figure, made all the more unnerving in that it clearly belonged to a Hollow. Positioned on her head was the top of a misshapen skull with horns that curved around themselves in the manner of a ram. A crack along one side spoiled its otherwise perfect symmetry. As the shared leader of Siamese Company, Neliel exercised top control when their party was active in Hueco Mundo. By contrast in Soul Society Renji issued the orders and she obeyed. Command was shared when on Earth. All of which was entirely Nanao's idea. It came to her in a sort of inspiration when she heard rumors that the two of them were seen around town together. This arrangement assuaged certain influential people who had balked at the thought of a Hollow presiding over the affairs of shinigami.

Five months later, Siamese had failed to self-destruct as some predicted. By all accounts it was flourishing. Neliel's friendly personality, her war record, and a certain cult status in terms of fans had helped to ease things along. Nanao felt proud at the part she played in shepherding this powerful soul into their ranks at a time when the shinigami desperately needed every superior fighter they could get. Actually, the then-Second seat of Squad Eight had been instrumental in convincing her fellow officers to give the Espada and her familiars a chance. Before leaving she even took it upon herself to instruct Neliel in what one had to know in order to fit into a shinigami camp. It was, perhaps, a way of assuaging any lingering misgivings Nanao might have felt at leaving her life as a death god behind.

For her part the mercurial Hollow had expressed gratitude for Nanao's diligent instruction. She even referred to her as 'sensei'. Still, the fact that the trio was alone out here on the roof indicated a perfect fraternity had not been formed yet. But if any debt actually existed between them, it was time to collect.

"Neliel-taichou," she began, "I am here to ask about…"

"Do you like my outfit? Renji helped me choose it." Nel placed one hand on her hip and another in her long luxurious hair, the pose showing off her impressive figure for all its worth. "He said it's the latest thing!"

A more bald-faced lie could never be uttered. Nanao seriously considered upbraiding the man over his ludicrous and distinctly perverted fashion sense. Out loud she simply responded, "Yes, it is very flattering. Now, as for why I came to call…"

The captain's head whipped around. "OI, PESCHE! BRING UP THE DISCO SET NEXT! I WANT TO SHAKE MY GROOVE THING IN THE GOLDEN TRIANGLE!"

"Yes, ma'am!" her obedient servant called while conversing with his partner over the music box.

"Sorry about that," Nel apologized as she turned about. "What were you saying?"

Apparently she had picked up a few bad social habits from her new comrades. Resolving not to waste further time, Nanao launched directly into her reason for being here. "I wanted to ask if you could tell me anything about the Wild Hunt."

At those words, the pink war markings across Nel's cheeks bunched in a grimace. The former Tercera glanced down at the ground and began to pace slowly about, one arm draped over her stomach while she stroked her chin in thought. Her face now wore a troubled look. "That figures," she muttered. "Something felt strange in this world as soon as we got here. So they've been through. I should have known this would come back to bite us."

Nanao followed along behind her uncertainly. The arrancar beauty stopped in her tracks to glance back. "Ah. My apologies, Nanao-sensei. I don't mean to act so vague. It's just this is a difficult topic, especially for someone in my position. A matter of conflicting loyalties, you might say. Nothing to be concerned about."

How is 'conflicting loyalties' not something to be worried about?

Don't make this any harder than it needs to be!

"I would be most grateful for any insight you can offer me on this matter," Ise stated with deliberate calm. "As you have by now surmised, the Hunt has recently become active again after no small amount of time. Our field research on this particular enemy is spotty at best. We have only conjecture as to its motivations, assuming it has any. I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity you presented before determining what might be our best response."

This explanation apparently did nothing to dispel the misgivings Neliel was obviously experiencing. She looked over at the two unmasked Hollows before speaking. "I don't know how much help I can be. Not that I'm trying to be evasive, mind. I do know a few things about the Hunt that might be useful against it. Only…" Neliel then appeared to size up the woman before her. "You're not thinking of fighting it alone, are you?"

Nanao crossed her arms in emphatic fashion. "Certainly not. I know that it would require a large party of shinigami, preferably led by a captain. My only purpose in being here is to avail myself of any knowledge you possess before someone faces it."

"Hmm." Nel then beckoned off a ways from where her fracciōn still collaborated. Both women drew to the side until they could be assured of some privacy. The turncoat arrancar sat down then, indicating Nanao should do the same. When they were both facing one another, she stated, "By 'someone' do you mean… Ichigo, maybe? No, never mind, I take it back. Maybe we should begin with you telling me what you know about the Hunt."

Nanao found herself immediately warming to the topic of discussion. It reminded her of debates held back in her Academy days. And this was a previously untapped source of information she had here. What a delicious opportunity!

"The Wild Hunt is active mainly at night. They target individuals, and once they catch their prey's scent it is impossible to escape without defeating the Hunt itself. This is highly difficult, as fallen members of the pack can seemingly revive from any injury, no matter how fatal. Some have speculated they are all vasto lorde, or even a phenomenon deriving from another plane of existence altogether. To date no confirmation exists either way. The most widely accepted method of victory is to survive until sunrise. After this the Hunt cannot maintain its existence properly and must return to whence they came. The procedure varies if they manifest during daylight hours, which as far as we can tell is not very often."

Nel regarded her with head tilted to one side. She leaned on one arm, wealth of viridian hair sliding off her shoulder in a fall of lustrous silk. "Figures you would be well-informed, sensei. By comparison what I have to offer is more folklore than actual battle strategy. Okay, maybe a little beyond that." Then she gave a desultory groan. "Well then, let's get started. And be sure to tell me if I'm only repeating what you're already familiar with. Make yourself comfortable."

With eager goodwill Nanao complied. There was little she loved more than a good story, a passion that harkened back to her younger days. Her rapacious reading habits were a result of this childhood appreciation for storytelling. Dutifully she strove to hide any improper excitement and settled in to listen.

"First off, I have never encountered the Hunt personally. It's a highly mobile entity. Never stays in one place for very long. Usually all you find are its tracks, in the form of inhabited areas you once knew now being reduced to lifeless pits. And in Hueco Mundo, that's not a term to be used lightly. Which is why most Hollows don't bother talking about it or even want to know too much to begin with. Fortunately, Aizen insisted that his Espada be up to date on anything that might concern our welfare. So we all learned a few things; about each other, our potential opponents, and the things considered a little of both. That included the Wild Hunt. Is any of this old news to you?"

Nanao shook her head.

Neliel looked to consider this for a while, then raised a finger before her audience. "Since you're obviously familiar with its habits while hunting in the human world, here's what you might not be aware of. The Wild Hunt is a collection of Menos Grande Hollows, but not just any garden-variety type. In case you didn't know, the Hollows that go into the formation of a Menos tend to be of low power that have scavenged one another in cannibal fashion, in turn growing stronger and eventually forming conglomerations with those of similar bent. That means hundreds or even thousands of weak Hollows are packed into one giant mass which then becomes the standard shape of Gillian you might be familiar with. They're indistinguishable from one another, both in form and mind. Their only saving grace is incredible power, which is why you shinigami normally sent in at least a lieutenant to combat one whenever they showed up in this world."

A burst of music interrupted this recitation. Both women looked over to where Pesche and Dondochakka had taken to arguing over the proper use of the music box. Nanao considered the pair; one lean and ropy, the other squat in a manner reminiscent of a tree stump. They certainly looked like regular souls, especially after having lost the skull masks. However each of them was actually a conglomeration of different entities in the same manner Neliel described. Despite ample evidence of this she found it difficult to believe. But a Hollow hole never lied.

Where do you suppose hers is located? I still don't see it anywhere.

Nanao chose not to answer, ostensibly because the person in question had resumed speaking.

"After a while there sometimes occurs a reaction within the collective in which a certain powerful spirit begins to assert dominance over the rest of the raging swarm that comprises a Gillian. If this strong soul is able to suppress all the rest, the generic Menos starts to take on distinctive features in response. It regains something resembling a personality, and is able to respond better to its environment, which aids in the survival process. This is the first step towards becoming an adjuchas like me."

"Excuse me," Nanao interrupted while adjusting her glasses, "but I am familiar with the basic evolution methods you are describing."

Nel nodded. "Okay. Then do you know what happens if a Gillian fails to reach adjuchas?"

One eyebrow rose. "Not specifically. Accumulated information is normally more robust regarding successes than failures."

Neliel traced a slow circle on the stone beneath them with her foot, toes sinking through as though it was a mirage. "If the presiding soul, for whatever reason, is unable to maintain its dominance or fails to feed in a manner that would keep its control stable, then it gets absorbed back into the carnivorous collective it came from. And as a result, that Menos will never again be able to establish a dominant personality. The result is that what could once graciously be called a bloodthirsty monster turns into something completely and utterly wild. It's deranged past anything resembling normal behavior for a Hollow, meaning that it never rests, never examines its surroundings for any period of time at all, and never bothers to distinguish one target from the next. It just hunts, constantly, until it either runs low on energy and is scavenged by other Hollows or winds up getting destroyed by a superior opponent. There's simply no other way of dealing with them."

Nanao shivered at the prospect. "I don't remember anything in our records that would indicate what you've described. Other than Fenris…"

"That's because a de-evolved Menos doesn't even have enough awareness left to know how to leave Hueco Mundo," her informant responded. "It's ruled by instinct and is incapable of coordinated behavior. Which is why they usually end up starving in some out-of-the-way corner of our world without anyone on the outside learning they ever existed, especially shinigami."

"Are you saying these failed Menos comprise the Wild Hunt?" A point of contention immediately rose up which she didn't hesitate to voice. "But if they can't leave Hueco Mundo then how do they…?"

"There's a leader," Neliel declared heavily.

They stared at one another for a few seconds. In that time, Nanao's pulse began to beat faster. Excitement gripped her in the face of new evidence pertaining to an ancient mystery. Filled with scholarly zeal, she leaned forward and whispered one word.

"Cernunnos!"

The captain's horned helm nodded in confirmation, while Nanao's eyes practically blazed behind her spectacles. Here at last was the first ever official confirmation of a creature all shinigami knew only by its codename: 'Hunt Master'. Many were the scholarly battles she had observed or taken part in regarding the debate surrounding the Wild Hunt, but no one could ever offer concrete evidence one way or another to support the various theories. Until now.

"What is it?" she demanded.

"I can't tell you. No, not because I don't want to," Neliel hurriedly interjected when she seemed about to protest. Rubbing her stomach absently and fingering the dangling strips of leather there, the Hollow resumed with explanations. "No one can say what it really is. Cernunnos is a title we gave to something we don't understand but still fear. Eventually the word traveled into the legends of humans, which is how you know of it. The Horned One might be a rank among the Wild Hunt. This indicates a level of sophistication that should be impossible for their breed. But Cernunnos does exist, of that you can be certain. It's the proverbial stag that runs at the head of the pack, heightening their bloodlust and leading them where they are supposed to go. Different members have worn the crown of antlers. Aizen postulated that Cernunnos is as much prey as it is their leader, because evidence exists that its identity has changed several times throughout the ages. Our legends hint to a transferal of power. The old leader is brought down by a stronger contender, and as a result this new champion assumes the mantle of authority, gaining its clarity and the ability to lead the rest."

Nanao frowned, placing a hand to her chin in thought. "So they can be killed for sure." An idea occurred to her and she looked up sharply. "Have any Hollows ever attempted to destroy the Hunt? For self-preservation, I mean."

"They would have as much trouble finding it as killing it," Neliel replied, gazing distractedly at Ise's fingers. "The Wild Hunt was rumored to live somewhere in the heart of Hueco Mundo. What we refer to simply as 'the dead zone'. This is the same place where our so-called king, Barragan Luisenbarn, held his court for several centuries. Since normal Hollows can't survive in the conditions inside the dead zone, hardly anyone even knew he existed."

Nanao rifled through her memory. "Luisenbarn… the Segunda Espada during the War, correct?"

"That's him. Anyway, Aizen suspected that Barragan actually controlled the Wild Hunt to some extent, because he was the sort of overbearing despot who insisted that everybody he was aware of bow down and kiss his bony rump. He wouldn't let anyone off the hook in that respect, not even the Wild Hunt. So if they were neighbors, Aizen felt it was guaranteed the two were affiliated, or at least more aware of each other than anybody else could lay claim to."

She broke away from staring, beautiful eyes lingering on the dark jungle flourishing around them, seemingly lost in memories. Feeling like an eager child being told a story by her cherished elder again, Nanao strove to contain her impatience. "And?"

Neliel came out of her trance with a slight jerk. "And he was right. We learned that the Hunt did indeed serve King Chicken-Bone. They were his most dangerous weapon. Unfortunately, not much else is known about the Wild Hunt. Certainly nobody we asked had ever spoken to Cernunnos. Although about a year prior to Aizen's official ascension over us, they were sent out into the world with a mission to exterminate the Archers."

"You mean Quincy?" Nanao gave a sudden start. "Ah! That's right! The last recorded appearance of the Wild Hunt was when they massacred a large portion of the Quincy hierarchy! Soul Society sent a response team led by two captains to face it. The force was nearly wiped out, but the Hunt was apparently driven off thanks to their intervention."

Neliel chewed her lip, apparently unimpressed to learn of this. "I suppose. Anyway, right after that and before Aizen took power, when Barragan realized he couldn't stand up to him, it was rumored he took steps to minimize the gain his hated enemy would make from assimilating his whole army. If the rumors can be believed, Barragan supposedly sealed the Wild Hunt away in a secret place only he knew about. And there they remained, lost to all memory but his."

"That would explain why nobody has seen the Hunt in over thirty years," Nanao pondered aloud, another puzzle finally being brought to light. "This Segunda didn't want Aizen to gain its strength. He must have planned to release it when a chance presented to rise in rebellion. Only then…" A shiver stole up her spine as a thought came unbidden.

"Exactly. Since Barragan was himself imprisoned in Nirvana along with Aizen, he never had the opportunity to unleash the Hunt. By all accounts they should still be locked up in whatever cage he made for them." The fallen soul shifted in her seat and fixed the other woman with a fierce gaze. "But now according to you they have been set loose. Which could be an indication of something much worse than just the Hunt."

Nanao slid the glasses up her nose with one finger to hide any sign of discomfort. Neliel clearly did not lack in terms of mental acumen to have deduced the real reason behind her worry. She was right. If the Hunt had not only been located, but also freed, this could imply that someone had been entrusted with the required information necessary to do all that. Meaning contact with the denizens of Nirvana had somehow been established. And that was a best-case scenario. In the worst, their greatest nightmare had happened: Nirvana was open again, allowing the ones trapped inside to roam free.

Unless someone stumbled on the Wild Hunt by chance. Someone who also had the power to break their bindings. The odds of that happening were not good. More information was what they needed here, but it might already be too late.

A niggling question that had been bothering Nanao chose that moment to make itself known. "Neliel-taichou, if I may ask… how exactly did you learn all this?"

Odelschvank had become absorbed in seemingly playing with her tassels again. "Hm? Oh, Ichimaru got it out of Barragan's servants."

Nanao's eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. "He tortured them?"

"Not exactly." Those sympathetic features were lost again. A dreamy smile curved her lips. "Gin always said information extracted through pain was unreliable. After the shinigami took charge, he made it his duty to learn everything they needed to know. He did this by… interrogating… certain members of Barragan's court."

Nel scooted a little closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. Nanao strove to suppress any lingering instinct to shrink back. But while she told herself this particular Hollow was entirely different from others of her breed, something about the way the woman looked right now served as a reminder that there still remained a good deal of the soul-eater in her.

"What he did was, first he bound them with a shinigami spell so that they couldn't move or speak. Then he put them together in a room. Once he had his audience, Gin brought in some flunky nobody knew. And that's the one he tortured. He asked it questions while he did this so that the others could hear. Gin promised to let the little Hollow go if it answered truthfully. But since it didn't know anything it couldn't answer them, and he kept right on torturing it. In front of the others, so they could all see. And hear. And smell. When it was over, he got another one, and he put it through entirely different torments. And then…"

Her eyes were boring into Nanao at this point. There was a hungry look on that lovely face the shinigami did not like. One hand hovered near the sleeve where Ureshii Onnanoko remained tucked away in case of emergencies.

Nel licked her lips before proceeding. "He informed all the bound Hollows that he was going to do the same thing to each of them. And once he started on the first, he wouldn't stop for any of the others, even if they told him what he wanted. The only way to escape was for the first one he approached to immediately divulge all information regarding his questions. The rest would be allowed to live as a result, but they still had to talk. After that he had them put into separate cells far removed from each other. He waited an hour. Then he walked into one of the cells. I think he picked it at random. But as soon as Gin opened the door, the guy inside started screaming out all his secrets!"

It was a tad disturbing how fondly Neliel seemed to be reliving these moments. As for Nanao, she was no longer enjoying this recitation, on any level. The one telling the story didn't seem to take note of her discomfort.

"He visited the others, and they confessed too. Because of this we learned a great deal about the Wild Hunt. In addition, none of Barragan's men ever knew if they were the one who broke first. That way they lost all confidence in one another, and themselves. Killed two birds with one stone, Gin said. Aizen was very pleased."

"I… see," the slender spirit swallowed against an involuntary urge to gag. She stood up quickly. The Hollow's bright eyes followed her every movement with a predator's intensity. "I must be going now. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Neliel-taichou. I'm grateful for all the help you have so kindly extended. We should confer like this again in the future."

I'm not sure one of you is going to have a future, considering the way she's eyeing us.

Nel suddenly rose and stepped forward to grasp Nanao's face with both hands. Fingers slid into her coal-black hair. Startled, the smaller woman was much too shocked to do anything as the Hollow leaned close. Her eyes shut as she inhaled deeply before letting it out with a heavy sigh.

"Damn, you smell delicious," Nel murmured.

Nanao? Draw me. Quick!

Before her mistress could decide on whether this action might be prudent, the reformed arrancar took a step back. She wore a crestfallen expression like a child who had just been told there would be no dessert this evening.

"You shinigami have it made," Nel said while inspecting her anxious colleague from top to bottom. "When you get hungry, you just hang out in Soul Society for a little bit or grab something to eat. With us it's different. After a while, we have to eat someone. Hollow, shinigami, or plus. And since I threw in my lot with you guys, all that leaves are Hollows." Her eyes drifted over to where Pesche and Dondochakka waited patiently. "Being around all these death gods makes me so ravenous sometimes, it's all I can do not to eat my boys. Makes me wish I was vasto lorde. They don't have to feed unless they want to."

"That sounds… difficult," Nanao finished awkwardly while shivers traveled up her spine.

"It is." Captain Odelschvank flashed her a wink. "But I get better every day." Her face then split in a warm smile. "I've enjoyed chatting with you, Nanao-sensei. We should get together more often. You're very good company."

"I would like that," Ise found herself saying, then wondered where such a response had come from. Clearly it was time to leave before anything truly regrettable happened. "If you will excuse me now, Taichou."

Neliel nodded. "Bye."

Nanao took off like a shot, disappearing towards the first fingers of dawn. Behind her, Nel went back to her longtime companions with a distinctly heavy heart and grumbling stomach. To dispel this malaise, she resolved to dance until she dropped from exhaustion.

As the sounds of swinging 70's music reverberated over the East Asian landscape, Renji Abarai settled back on one hand, considering. He had heard everything that went on overhead with perfect clarity. Ears like a dog, after all. It was just a bit alarming for a while there when Neliel was talking about her hunger. He had been ready to rush up in Nanao's defense should the need arise. It was not always easy sharing command with a Hollow, even one as thoroughly likeable as Nel Tu.

Rather than dwell on this issue, he chose instead to consider what the matter of the Wild Hunt might mean for the Kurosaki family. And those who held an interest in them.

---

Had anyone been present to see his current position, Noboru Kouki might have looked to be in trouble.

The boy was currently flat on his belly all the way out on a large branch that grew from the side of a cliff in the Peruvian Andes. This precarious position was in no way reflected in his bearing, which was loose and completely relaxed. Dressed in a red and white basketball jersey and baggy trousers that cut off mid-calf, the barefoot youth defied appearances by being perfectly at ease despite hanging over a thousand-meter drop. His shaggy black hair was roughly cut and kept falling into his eyes which lent him a wild appearance. Nut-brown skin gleamed a healthy shade in spite of his somewhat skinny frame. The wind at this altitude seemed to offer him no trouble, especially with the sun out on such a beautiful day.

At the present time Noboru was lazily swishing a long stalk of grass over a clutch of young falcons in their nest. Summer in the tropics meant lots of animals to play with. The newborns conceived in spring had lost their clumsiness and could employ virtually all the skills of their elders. Plus they were much more curious, not to mention willing to play. These young hunters focused attentively on his teasing lure, their sharp black eyes following its movements. Sometimes they snapped at it with prepubescent beaks, causing him to yank the stalk back with a grin.

The game kept them all occupied while their mother watched from her place in the nest. Noboru had made friends with the gyrfalcon who called this spot her home a year past. He named her Pluma, and they were close companions . A large and fierce bird, not native to this region, he suspected she had escaped from captivity in a nearby city. Now they were neighbors and he came out to visit her at least once a day. The eggs were safe this high from any who might do them harm save for the odd scavenging buzzard. When it suited him Noboru would defend the nest while Pluma went hunting. Sometimes he would sit and watch as the majestic predator soared and swooped through the sky, riding motionless on currents of air and occasionally flapping with powerful strokes. It made him wish he had wings, just to know how it felt to wield such mighty pinions against gravity itself.

His gaze drifted away, almost allowing the chicks to snatch their bobbing target. Some mountain climbers were attempting the dangerous northern face of Siula Grande off to the west. From here they were just tiny colored specks. He waved at them, though they couldn't see, and anyway it would have been foolhardy to break their concentration on that dangerous ascent.

Noboru let his hand drop. He should have been content, way up high and with the Andes spreading out in eternal splendor below him. But for the last hour he had been bothered by the impression someone was watching him. This hardly carried the same clear presentiment of danger from a week back. That had been so strong it forced him to go into hiding among the catacombs. He only recently come out, bored, restless and eager to see how things were proceeding or whether the threat had passed.

This was different, though. More like something trying to hide itself around him. It left the solitary youth feeling edgy.

"Do you sense it too, Pluma?" he whispered. In response the young mother cocked her head at him and quorked helpfully, indicating she did not. She then went about preening some ruffled feathers while her brood nuzzled each other in small displays of dominance.

Noboru stood up, considering. Maybe it was time to head back into town, lose himself in the hustle and bustle of the provincial capital Tingo María. Anyone who could successfully track and evade him out here was bound to be trouble. He could have sought his underground refuge again, but immediately rejected that option. I just came out! A little paranoia; maybe that's all this is.

Whatever the truth, it was time to seek a different locale. Sticking the stem of grass in his mouth he turned his face to the sun, glorying in it for a few moments longer. He then looked back to the small family of falcons. "Adios, madre del viento," the boy stated in preparation of departure. "Wish me luck, eh?"

Pluma continued her ministrations without further notice of him.

"Some friend you are," he teased.

Well, let's go. With that he swung off his perch and sprang nimbly down the snow-swept mountainside.

Farther up the cliff, a small form rose from her hiding place. She held the broken branch from a bush to offer token concealment. Without losing sight of her fleeing quarry the spy tapped a signal into the communicator on her wrist and spoke two words:

"Located Masahiko."

Then Ururu crept forth to continue her surveillance.

---

Writing at her desk, Soifon paused upon feeling a sense of incoming orders. Moments later this was confirmed when a Hell Butterfly flapped through her window. The captain raised her wrist and allowed it to alight there. Instantly its message came through.

"Masahiko's been found."

Finally.

For months she had awaited this confirmation, learning as much about her target as Lady Yoruichi would allow. She knew exactly what methods to use. At last the time to act was here. Thus the diligent squad leader rose and prepared to depart. At a wave of her hand a flock of Hell Butterflies sprang forth, their messages prerecorded and ready to be imparted as they flapped to their destinations. On the desk she left a tiny figurine in the shape of a black cat. Her lieutenant would recognize this symbol and act accordingly. Certain clandestine messages would be left for the others obedient to her will. Her departure was as thoroughly planned as possible.

One quick burst of shunpō later and the captain stood on the roof of a building in the Seireitei beside Chōjirō Sasakibe. They exchanged a glance before both took off towards a gate to the living realm, all in service to the Shihoin clan.

---

'Nee-san, please don't…'

"It'll be all right," she assured him calmly. "Trust me."

He had very little choice in the matter. But whatever confidence in the world he possessed came from Rukia. Still, this was asking a lot, even from her.

Kon had come home.

The Shinigami Research and Development Institute loomed before them, a sprawling white-washed estate that gave no outward hint of the fiendish debauchery that went on within. It left the disembodied mod soul feeling as though he was standing before the gates to Hell. 'Abandon all hope' should have been written above the doors, which themselves were intimidating just by being so enormous. There was something grand and imperial about the place, as if they were about to set foot inside the Forbidden City.

An apt analogy. There could be absolutely nowhere more foreboding in existence than this insidious complex. Kon had been born here. And it was here he almost died. What in the world could have possessed his Nee-san to bring him to the Institute of all places? She must have no idea what went on within. Only this could explain how she could so casually ring the bell like that.

As he was busy pondering, a large eye opened in the door and looked at them. "Who goes there?" a high-pitched voice intoned.

-NEE-SAAAAAAN!-

"You'll be fine," Rukia sought to assure him. "Let me deal with this."

"Who is it?" the voice continued crossly while that massive orb swiveled as though in concentration. "Speak up now, what do you… want…"

Inside the great black hole of its pupil could now clearly be seen a reflection of Rukia, and at this all words trailed off. "Ah… uh…"

The tiny shinigami stood before that ocular gatekeeper, one hand resting on the hilt of her soul cutter. She looked absolutely fearless and just a touch angry. Her very stance lent the impression that whoever stood behind this door was about to get their ass thoroughly kicked. "I am Rukia of the House of Kuchiki, and I wish to speak with your superior."

As if on cue the voice dropped several octaves in pitch and subservience. "Of course, Ojousama. Please enter and be welcome! Someone will be along to assist you momentarily."

A crack appeared down the portal and both sides split apart, allowing them entry. Meanwhile Kon marveled at the sight of his Nee-san asserting her authority. Now that's what I'm talking about! Show 'em who's boss, Rukia!

Once the door had opened fully the diminutive lieutenant swept in without hesitation. As soon as she was inside it shut behind her. Expecting to find themselves before a darkened corridor lined with torches, Kon was surprised to note the interior appeared well-lit and held nothing of particular menace. The entryway branched off in service corridors to the left and right while the main hall spread out before them.

No one was in evidence. Tucked safely in a pocket of her uniform, Kon took the chance to observe. He had never been this way before. His experience with anywhere outside the labs was brief, having been smuggled out a side door and clandestinely shipped to the living world. His senses as a pill were actually not limited by the demands of a body, meaning he had a full range of vision in all directions. This was in no way disconcerting. It was his natural means of environment surveillance. And best of all, he could inform Rukia if anyone was trying to sneak up on her from behind, above or below. In this place, the more aware you were the better.

"Ojousama!"

A short dark-haired girl with glasses and pigtails came jogging down the lane towards them. Her expression appeared quite chipper, not to mention she was rather cute. All this led Kon to wonder whether or not the place had undergone some major remodeling since his creation.

The girl had caught up to them by this point. Dressed in a white lab smock that reached to her knees, she offered a humble bow and came up smiling happily. "Sorry for the bother! Hyousu was on visitor monitoring today, he gets so fussy in between meals. No discourtesy was intended, and I humbly apologize on his behalf. Had we only known you were coming..."

"No matter," Rukia intoned as she swept on by. Her tone was all business, and the girl had to jog to catch up. "My visit was entirely unplanned. I hope this in no way causes the staff inconvenience."

"Oh, we always have time for you, ma'am!" the kid smiled while cleaning off her glasses. Replacing them back on her face, she was off again. "Akon said to take you to the Observation Gallery. He should be with us momentarily, busy conferring with the boss right now. She's at work on… well, you know."

"Yes, I understand."

I don't, Kon thought to himself. Who were they talking about? Could a woman be running this place now? Wasn't Sandal-Hat supposed to be in charge now? And why was everybody acting so courteous to Rukia? Sure, she was a lieutenant, but the R&D Institute was kind of like its own little fiefdom, removed from the regular hierarchy of the Gotei 13… or 7 now; that was going to take some getting used to.

The girl kept up a line of chatter the whole journey, while Rukia responded in civil terms until they reached their destination. This was more like Kon remembered: dark with muted glows from computer screens and devices. The Observation Gallery turned out to be somewhat misleading in title. There were banks of monitors attended by peculiar characters in white lab coats. But this was only part of the layout, which also included huge transparent bubbles submerged in the walls and floors. Within these containers were rooms, each housing some type of ongoing experiment from what he could tell. Kon saw everything from living Hollows being dissected to grotesque horrors right out of the most obscene science fiction. There were pyrotechnic displays so powerful they looked like miniature suns under glass, creatures that flowed from solid to liquid to gaseous while retaining their outlines, and even what appeared to be some people peacefully sleeping while their dreams were broadcasted and analyzed.

At random intervals, though, the rooms would change, those on the walls sliding off to one side as though on a turntable and the floor varieties flipping around like a pancake, only to bring some new experiment into view. Several of the lab's denizens gathered around these displays or congregated on floating platforms, scribbling notes and commenting to one another on what they considered relevant. It reminded Kon of car shows with the models on their revolving platforms being ogled by passing buyers. I wonder if I was ever put on display during development like this?

While the lab's residents seemed unfazed at being surrounded by weird abominations on all sides, when Rukia came in heads turned. Kon could hear them whispering, and his perplexity only grew. "The Patroness!" they gasped to one another. And, "The Patroness is here!" Things were getting downright eerie. How did Neesan fit into all this?

She spoke briefly to the girl, whose name turned out to be Anzu. Their chirpy guide tapped the floor, and a chair sprang up out of nowhere. She gestured for Rukia to be seated. Once this was done, Anzu promised to go check on Akon before skipping away. That left them alone with the other interested academics, many of whom looked freaky enough to qualify for being on display themselves.

"Was this a scheduled visit? I would have prepared something she'd definitely like!"

"Maybe she would be interested in my proposals, I should go and…"

"Don't! The boss gave strict instructions not to approach her for anything unapproved!"

"Refreshments. We need refreshments. Where's Rin? He usually has some snacks squirreled away. Somebody go find Rin!"

Rukia didn't appear troubled to be the center of so much attention. She simply sat there, eyes lowered and chin lifted proudly. It was like she was pulling an impersonation of her icy older brother. If so, she had the attitude down pat. When one of the scientists approached her with an offer of a steaming cup of tea, she took it with a nod and then went back to waiting patiently.

For his part, Kon remained worried. If these freaks all ganged up on her, Nee-san would be overwhelmed. And nobody knew precisely they were here. Had he realized this was where Rukia intended to bring him, he would have kept his mouth shut and never brought up the topic of a body. Some things just weren't worth it.

Right then a door down the way slid open, and a dour-looking guy with bed hair and horns sticking out of his forehead joined the party. He loped briskly towards them. Rukia rose at his approach, both nodding in greeting.

"Rukia-sama," the new fellow sighed while giving a smile that served to make him look even more devilish.

"Akon-san," she responded. "Thank you for seeing me on short notice."

"I'm glad to be of service." Akon didn't look particularly thrilled when he said that, but neither did he seem peeved. Just kind of… unimpressed was the best word. Like he was only waiting patiently in the wings until someone told him it was his time to take the stage of life. "Would this be about the dimensional landscape undertaking? If so I'm pleased to report we have had great success in carrying out trials, thanks in part to the research data supplied by your family's effort. In less than a month we should have a fully functional and stable housing model for those people currently residing in Halos 5 and 6. We're calling it Tir Na Nog this time."

"That is welcome news, but not the reason for my being here. A friend of mine is in need of a gigai made expressly for him." Without further ado she reached into her sleeve pocket and withdrew Kon's shell. He cringed inwardly when horn-boy bent in to get a closer look, even more so as there seemed to have gathered a large crowd around them now. Everybody wanted to get a peek at what their 'Patroness' had brought them. It made him sweat figuratively inside his candy-pill housing. Some of these faces were actually familiar, and not in a good way.

"May I?" Akon inquired as he held out his hand.

-Neesan, I don't like this-

She didn't respond out loud, only looked down and offered him a warm smile that seemed to say, 'Have no fear'. It served to help his nerves. A little. They really did seem to only be interested in pleasing her. That meant well for him. All the same, when Rukia reached out and deposited him in Akon's palm, the loss of contact left Kon chilled. She could no longer hear him. And this guy could. He therefore resolved to clam up for the time being.

Meanwhile Akon had taken to inspecting him closely. Another fellow whose face looked as though he were either deliriously happy or suffering from raging hemorrhoids leaned in so close his fetid breath washed over Kon. "Well, that's definitely one of our gikongan," Mr. Happy-Meal declared. "Quality workmanship, excellent ease and entry." He shook his head and looked around. "I'm having a bit of trouble confirming its parameters. Is anybody else noticing the same?"

A big hairless frog in a white coat ambled up. Lacking lips or eyelids, he looked as though someone had purposely left out half the facial features normally attributed to a human. This was made even more evident when he spun a crank on his head, causing one eye to extend out on its stalk and hover right over Kon. "You're looking at this all wrong, you porridge-head," the blob proclaimed pompously while sucking on his exposed teeth. "Its parameters are off because this is a mod soul!"

That revelation ratcheted up a storm of conversations. Cries of "Oh my goodness!" and "Really? Really?" now filled the air. Several more people attempted to poke and prod Kon but were thwarted by Akon, who moved with surprising grace and speed to avoid these efforts while lifting his curious features back to Rukia. "Is that the way of it, Kuchiki-sama?"

"It is. His name is Kaizō Konpaku, or Kon for short. I would like assistance in seeing him ensconced inside a suitable vessel for his continued benefit."

The two of them stood at the center of that feeding frenzy of academic interest. At last Akon's brow furrowed in clear distress. "You know we're still in your debt. But I'm afraid the decision is simply not mine to make. On this matter I am obliged to bring it up with the boss."

Rukia nodded. "Then please lead the way."

At a gesture from Akon the mob parted to give them room. With him in the lead they then moved back the way he first came. Kon was finding it just a little discomfiting, but his new handler did nothing that might be considered threatening. He led them along a plain corridor without any attempt at small talk or bothering to recognize the environment. For his part, Kon was having some difficulty mapping the layout ahead. It was almost like the lane before them changed imperceptibly whenever they drew close. A slight shifting in perception that registered only briefly before reverting back to normal. He began to wonder if they were passing through some kind of checkpoints, and Akon's presence was the only thing unlocking the way before them. Best not to think about what might happen if they didn't have a guide.

This hunch became more plausible when the end of the hallway appeared when previously he was certain a long stretch of corridor remained. Behind them Rukia was taking all this in stride. Clearly this was not her first visit here. Just how strong was the Kuchiki family influence if even the R&D bozos kowtowed to them? Money might not buy happiness, but it certainly got people's attention real quick.

When he was a few yards away Akon slipped a hand into his coat to reemerge with what looked to be a small flashlight. He held it up, and right at that moment another eye opened in the door. Again? Its slit pupil flared red with a destructive force Kon could practically feel. Quick as a flash the scientist shinigami flicked on the device, and a burst of bright blue light illuminated them all.

The warding eye blinked, its power seemingly disrupted as a result. No further signs of attack came from it. Akon continued to apply the flashlight on an off in a complicated pattern, causing the doorkeeper to blink in response. All the while their party drew ever closer until at last they stood in front of the portal. Its guardian had gone back to sleep. Seriously, what is it with these guys and ocular fixation? You'd think they felt someone was always watching them. Maybe it was a theme. Kon wondered at all the security in this place. Was it to keep someone from breaking in, or to deal with something that might break out?

The door rose upwards with a low rumble. At last they found themselves in the office of the Chief of the R&D Institute.

"The boss will be with us shortly," their dead-eyed guide informed them. "A meeting with the captain of Heron, as you're no doubt aware."

Rukia nodded in understanding. Meanwhile Kon was busily sniffing out their new setting. The place was oddly bare, as though the person who worked here had absolutely no sense of personal décor. Every available surface was the same yellow metallic color too. If he didn't know better he would have sworn the office was gold-plated. But that was too crazy to believe, even in this madhouse.

Without warning a hole opened up in the floor close by the desk. Blue light came from it, and Kon could feel something rising up from below. Akon turned at this while still holding onto him. "Ah, there we go. That took less time than I thought."

Kon had been expecting Urahara, or maybe one of his little helpers.

Instead it was Death herself who rose before them, and Kon couldn't help himself. He screamed.

-Ne… Nee-sa…!-

That was as far as he got before green eyes focused on him, cutting off all attempts at speech. They were exactly the same… exactly the same as he remembered them. Worse than the Dragon Lady, so much worse. No warmth, no life. The eyes of a mechanically efficient killer. Reach in. Pluck out a helpless mod soul. Take it away to be incinerated. The rest got to listen to pleading screams only they could hear. Until it was their turn. She was always there. Watching them with those flat uncaring green eyes.

His Death looked upon Kon, and lunged for him.

-NEE-SAN!-

A shriek torn from the bottom of his soul. She couldn't have heard him. All the same, just as Death's fingers were about to close over him Rukia intervened, slapping the shocked Akon's palm away and snatching Kon out of the air a split-second before the murderous demon's hand clamped down over her own.

The two women stood face-to-face in that gilded hall, staring one another down while the target of their confrontation sobbed gratefully between them. So fast. His Death had moved so fast, the only reason Nee-san had been able to reach him first was because she was standing much closer. Otherwise he might already be…

"Nemu-fukutaichou," Rukia winced against what felt like a vise around her fingers. "What is the meaning of this assault?"

Nemu Kurotsuchi stared at her for a while longer, then looked at their conjoined fists. "This is an aberrant product. It was scheduled for termination years ago. I must carry the decree out."

The other officer shook her head slowly. "I cannot allow that."

The determination in her voice was enough to send a chill through Kon's heart. This did not seem to impress his Death. "Mayuri-sama gave the order. I must carry out its execution."

"He belongs to me, Lieutenant Kurotsuchi."

Kon would have cheered to hear Rukia refer to him so possessively under any other circumstances. Right now, though, his guardian angel was facing down the mother of all his nightmares. Terror and worry were the only things he felt.

Rukia Kuchiki's eyes narrowed while her arm began to shake, smoke almost seeming to rise from their clasped fists. "I am your Patroness. It is only thanks to me that this Institute can still operate while lacking a captain without supervisory oversight from the other squad leaders. If you insist on destroying this mod soul, I will have no choice but to withdraw my support. Which means you will lose your autonomy, and everything within this building will come under someone else's jurisdiction. That includes the remains of Mayuri Kurotsuchi!"

Death didn't so much as blink.

"Boss," Akon coughed, edging towards the struggling maidens cautiously. "If I may, we both know Captain Kurotsuchi ordered the mod souls' termination only under duress from the Council of 46. Given the choice I think you know he would have rather kept them. That's why no real inquest was made when one was reported missing. In a sense, to let this prodigal mod live would be honoring Mayuri-sama's wishes." When this provoked no reaction in their standoff, he leaned closer and added, "I also don't believe the lady's captain would appreciate your mishandling her lieutenant."

Her face showed no sign at being swayed by any of these arguments. Still, Kon got the distinct impression a debate of some kind was taking place behind that death-mask. In spite of this he had to make something clear.

-Nee-san… I don't want you to get hurt. Please, no matter what she does to me, you can't fight her! She's too strong.-

So are we, Big Shot. Now cork it!

Huh? Who the heck…?

Too surprised to even feel scared, Kon felt the pressure being exerted on him slacken. He then realized that Death had stepped back and now stood regarding them.

"I will respect the spirit of Mayuri-sama's wishes, if not the letter. That is my choice," she declared heavily. The purple-haired angel of hell bowed her head forward towards Rukia. "Kuchiki-ojousama, I bid you welcome to our facility. How may we be of service to you today?"

Rukia slipped back a few strands of hair that had come loose in the struggle. Once her appearance was neat and tidy, she glanced between the two souls critically. "You can start by providing this mod soul with a vessel to inhabit while we converse. I would like for him to be able to participate in our activities fully."

Death seemed to consider this. "I will arrange for something appropriate, though nothing that could be misused. That is a condition I must insist upon while it remains inside these walls. A Mini-Mu should be sufficient."

The shinigami lady smiled in a very unpleasant way. "Whatever you think is best. Now, let us proceed."

Kon had a very bad feeling about this.

---

The marketplace of Tingo María proved to be just as vibrant and thriving as one could hope for. Tourists and locals alike browsed through the wares on display in search of something that struck their fancy. Exotic animals both alive and dead were for sale alongside crafts that purported to be authentic local goods whether in truth or not. This flat city nestled between mountains and jungle, taking advantage of both to ensure its prosperity. The Amazon rainforest to the east, Andes to the west. It was a settlement of modest size boasting a variety of elements both good and bad. Illegal smuggling could be conducted through the right channels along with a flourishing stopover in the drug trade. In contrast the city officials worked desperately to provide entertainments and protection for the well-heeled foreigners eager to spend a lot or a little. All done in the name of Tingo María's continued security. It was a perfect place to get lost in if one wanted.

In spite of this, Noboru's bad feeling had not gone away.

The boy sat amidst a gaggle of street youths very similar to him in appearance. Few of them wore shoes and most suffered from a marked disassociation with personal hygiene. While to all outward appearances he belonged here, those in the know could tell his presence was foreign to the social dynamic. The other children spared him not a glance nor sought to include him in their games, which suited Noboru just fine. He preferred to remain on the outskirts of any activity so as not to draw attention to himself.

Several of the children amused themselves kicking around a ball that was as badly in need of repair as their own grimy wardrobes. Girls participated as eagerly as boys, while those not so inclined hung around the market stalls, ever alert for a chance to swipe something or take advantage of a luckless tourist. The police in these parts would chase them off if so requested, but for the main they would rather not waste time on the prolific indigents. It was actually the city's preferred means of social welfare, letting street hooligans fend for themselves as best they could, so long as no one got hurt. At night they went back to their families or whatever served as such only to return the next day and start the cycle anew.

Noboru paid attention to everything going on around him while projecting an outward air of nonchalance. He made no attempt to distinguish himself, and was rewarded with being practically invisible to anyone concerned. It was something he had practiced in order to be quite good at.

Unfortunately, lurking like this remained highly boring.

The colorful environment, the crowds all struggling and sweating to push their way through, the bright and heady summer day; it all served to leave him hungry for a way to really participate. There was nothing truly holding him back. Even the actual sense of being spied upon had vanished sometime earlier without his knowledge. Which could mean it had all been his imagination. At the same time, Noboru misliked the idea that someone might be toying with him. His suspicions, real or imagined, served to keep him on edge. And so, frustrated and left with nothing else to do, he sat off by himself chewing a spent lollipop stick.

"Fabiola, don't touch that! You'll dirty your uniform."

"Yes, Miss Roberta."

His ears perked up. The sound of that conversation cut through the din surrounding this market the way only something of personal interest could. Noboru felt his hands twitch in anticipation. Oh, no, don't go there. You know you shouldn't!

"Honestly, try and keep up, Fabiola! Don't go wandering off on your own, the master and I can't be bothered to search for you. This is a dangerous, messy city and not to be taken lightly. Fabiola, what did I just say!"

"Don't go wandering off, Miss Roberta… and the city is a mess."

"Good. I'm glad to see you're paying attention. Master, forgive the bother. We are right behind."

I just can't help it. This sounds too good to resist!

Noboru got up and drifted through the crowd in search of his new diversion. Finally, a safe way to blow off some steam! Few things were as fun as teasing the bossy ones.

And then he saw them. In the lead came an older gentleman dressed with expensive taste. He wore a tailored pinstripe navy suit and gloves even in this heat, with dark sunglasses and an English bowler hat of all things. In one hand was gripped an ivory-handled walking stick. The silver-haired sophisticate had a neatly trimmed moustache, and he walked with a sort of stiff-legged exuberance as if eager to be on his way. A black umbrella held over his head served to ward off the heat to some extent. Nevertheless there was sweat pouring down his face that he wiped away with a crimson kerchief from his breast pocket. Had a person tried, they could not have stood out more in this crowd.

Following close in his wake were two maidservants. They wore the traditional black dresses with frilly white aprons and caps, as though they had just stepped right out of a Victorian novel. The middle-aged one doing all the yapping had her hair tied in two long pigtails that brushed against her ankles. Petite even in this part of the world, the maid squinted in the sun from behind a pair of thick eyeglasses. She might have been pretty were it not for the way her face contracted in obvious worry, gnawing her lip like she expected to be mugged at any moment. It was this one who held the umbrella that protected their employer from being scorched by the midday sun.

While by no means tall, the older woman still towered over her small companion, who looked like a miniature doll version of the same. Only this girl was quite young, no more than twelve by his estimation. Probably from a poor family who thought she had lucked out getting a job working for this rich fellow. Her hair was tucked completely under its bun, and she kept her hands clasped before her and gaze rooted to the ground as though afraid of offending anyone by looking at them. The look of misery on that cute little downcast face would have drawn Noboru's interest even if she wasn't obviously being browbeaten. A trio like this simply screamed to be taken advantage of, in a way nobody else could.

And yet he did not proceed right away. Something about their appearance gave him pause. Both women were obviously Asian, with fair skin that marked them as foreign, while the man had features that left him thinking Spanish Castillian. Yet the woman spoke English like a native. Even for tourists they looked out of place. What were people like this doing here?

Then again, Japanese were not uncommon in Peru. And those of Spanish descent abounded on this continent. Perhaps he was simply overthinking this. I think that's decided. Now, let's have some fun!

The master had stopped by a stand selling exotic birds in cages. As he inspected various fowl from hoisin to birds of paradise, the so-called Miss Roberta started in on it again. "I do declare, one cannot find quality tour guides nowadays!" she sniffed while nervously scrunching the fabric of her apron in one fist. Behind her goofy glasses, suspicious eyes flickered over the children playing nearby as sweat dripped down her face. "To think that the travel agent called this city a 'pearl amidst the jungle'! False advertising, if I ever heard it! They shan't be getting our business again, that's for sure. The master will not suffer a corrupt merchant besmirching his ears with false flatteries."

Said master didn't seem to notice his vocal help. The rest of the crowd was avoiding her as well, their distaste obvious to see. Even the pickpockets wore expressions of contempt and chose to head elsewhere in search of less… touchy game.

The same could not be said for little Fabiola. She had attracted the interest of some of the boys loitering in the street. They approached her, whistling and calling out playfully in Spanish, a language she clearly did not understand. Noboru could tell they meant no harm. At least for the time being. They were just intrigued by this strange little creature wandering into their turf. And the way she blushed and steadfastly refused to look at them only served to gain their interest more.

Naturally Miss Roberta did not fail to take note of this. Her reaction was nothing short of comical. "SHOO!" she screeched, rushing forward to grab Fabiola by one arm while waving her umbrella at them with the other. "Go on, away with you! Honestly, girl, show a little common sense! You can't go cavorting around with riffraff! Use your head, you witless child! Fabiola, I am talking to you, at least look at me when you…!"

The boys laughed and darted forward to wave their arms and make faces at her. The head maid reacted as though they had pulled knives. She began swinging the umbrella wildly from side to side, failing to strike anyone. More a danger to herself the way she almost overbalanced there and nearly pitched face-first into the dirt. Doing so caused her skirt to flip up slightly.

Right then Noboru knew he couldn't resist anymore. It just had to be done! He might feel bad about it later, but that would have to wait.

Smiling in a mischievous way, he sidled along the street until he stood behind the panicky maid. No one took any notice of him. They were all too busy laughing at Roberta making a fool of herself. Let's see how they react to this! With that Noboru zipped in and made a grab for her skirts, intending to flip them over her head and be gone before anyone could begin to wonder what happened.

That was the plan. Instead in the very act of playing this giddy prank his outstretched hand was snatched in a grip of steel.

Noboru gasped, too surprised to react for a moment. He almost dropped the stick from his mouth but caught himself in time. Somebody caught me? Somebody saw me? How?

The answers became clear when the maid Roberta turned around and looked at him. She no longer chose to appear in any way ridiculous. That much was obvious. Now a stone-cold mistress of pain glared at the shocked ghost whose hand she held in a death-grip. Her free hand flew to her mouth, and one burst of spirit energy later, a woman dressed in weird black togs now had hold of him while the body she had discarded moved swiftly away to give them space. Noboru stared in shock at a pair of fierce black eyes no longer hidden behind glasses. He didn't have to see the sword strapped to her waist to know what just happened here. There was no mistaking her soul's feel.

He had been caught by a shinigami.

"You took the bait, as expected," the woman hissed. "We heard tell of your preference for playing pranks on women. Perhaps you should have brushed up on your Japanese manga instead. Then our disguises might have been seen through."

Having realized his situation, Noboru Kouki did not struggle. Instead he relaxed completely. From the corner of one eye he saw the unusual gentleman come strolling forward to address his phony maidservant, while at the same time a spirit that looked just like him observed Noboru's predicament without a trace of concern. This one too had a sword at his hip. Two shinigami. With gigai now inhabited by attendant spirits. The other one, Fabiola or whatever her real name might be, was the only one of their group who did not give up her faux body. Which could indicate she either wasn't ready or couldn't do so. Best to prepare for both contingencies.

"Unhand me," Noboru stated evenly. "If you don't you'll be sorry."

"We mean you no harm, Masahiko," the silver-haired man declared quietly. "Lady Yoruichi has sent us."

Noboru flinched and glanced over in surprise. Was this a trick? They knew his codename. Plus he noted the shinigami's uncovered eyes were of a distinctly golden color. Almost exactly the same as Yoruichi's. Could they really be friends of hers? She had always told him the shinigami were out to get her. It had been a while since they last spoke; might this be an indication of some reversal of fortune?

Perhaps so. Then again, that might not bode well for him after all. The shinigami could have caught her, forced Yoruichi to divulge his location. There was no way he was just about to take their word for it. Simply looking at the woman still holding onto him proved this lot was dangerous in the extreme.

"Now that you understand the situation," the female death god stated brusquely, "you will accompany us. Your cooperation is merely a courtesy, and can be revoked at any time. Do not force me to resort to kidō to bind…"

Like hell I'm going anywhere with them!

You said it.

This close he really had only one option, but it suited his tastes well. Noboru maneuvered the lollipop stem in his mouth until he held it gripped between his teeth. Let's do it, partner! With that he undid the concealing spell.

An instant later a naked sword appeared where the white stick had been, its handle securely held in his mouth. Immediately he swung his head around to send that sharp blade flashing towards his captor's unprotected face.

He didn't aim to kill, only startle the woman enough to make her let go so he could escape. He had already planned out his route in advance. Instead Noboru was shocked when a sharp jolt traveled through his neck. Wide-eyed, the two spirits remained frozen before one another. It took only a split-second for him to realize what had happened.

She caught it! She caught it with her teeth!

They were like mirror images of one another now. Lips bared in a snarl around his zanpakutō's blade, the angry woman focused on him in a way that seemed to promise retribution for this assault. Noboru wasn't about to wait and see what that involved. Instead he worked his tongue around as best he could. Time for all that training to pay off!

"Bamboozle, Hanuman!"

Even somewhat tongue-tied, the incantation had its desired effect. The soul cutter changed instantly. Where once there had been a slim sword, now between their jaws each of them held one end of a bright red pole with inscribed gold caps on its tips. His spirit power ratcheted up far beyond its previous level, and Noboru took a brief moment to savor the shock in his opponent's eyes before completing his performance.

"Grow!"

Hanuman then extended to a length equivalent to sixteen city blocks in the blink of any eye, dragging the woman with her molars still embedded in its surface along for the ride. The nyoi-bo and its occupant passed through people and buildings without harm until she was lost to sight.

"Back!"

And just like that his weapon magically returned to the size of no more than a meter. Just in time, because the other shinigami was leaping forward with an incantation on his lips. "Bakudō #8: Winding Binding Chains!"

In response Noboru planted his pole end-first into the earth and used it to propel himself out of the way. The spell actually turned in pursuit of him, but from this vantage he caught it on the tip of Hanuman. With a few deft twists of the pliable staff, the whole mass of crackling energy was wound around its length like spaghetti on a fork. He then flipped this constrictive sorcery back at its caster, forcing him to dodge aside or risk being ensnared.

Noboru landed on the roof of a low building, examining the layout below to determine his best course of action. A sharp rush of instinctive fear caused the barefoot fighter to spin around weapon at the ready. He had been expecting to see the woman back again, and was surprised to find the dour-faced girl called Fabiola streaking towards him. So slack and disinterested were her features that Noboru could hardly believe she was attacking him. But when her foot lashed out in a kick, he brought Hanuman up to guard, and nearly lost his footing from the impact. Mercy, but she was strong!

This alone would not have been enough to dissuade him. However, as a result of her flipping around like that, the young boy found himself being presented with a very clear shot of her white garter stockings and panties.

Whoa.

Momentary as this hesitation might have been, it proved costly. For the next thing he knew, Noboru was slammed roughly against the tin roof with someone's knee digging into his neck.

"Enough," Soifon declared, a wealth of anger in that single word. The captain applied greater pressure with her knee to forestall any further attempts at escape. Absently it occurred to her clouds were forming overhead. Had Chōjirō-sama unleashed his own soul cutter? That reminds me: she then plucked the released zanpakutō from her captive's grasp, at the same time casually jamming her fingers into his mouth when he looked about to try and speak. No telling if this brat knew kidō or not. Best not to take chances. "Bakudō 69: Silver Tongue Striking A…"

The world went silent.

Everyone grew still. Soifon, the boy beneath her, and Ururu. None of them dared to move.

From all around them, a guttural animal snarl made their blood run cold.

It can't be! Not during the day! Why would they…?

Looking up, Soifon found herself staring at the sky. Where once there had been a bright sunny day, now a huge gray cloud the size of this city loomed overhead. As she watched a veil seemed to part in its stygian depths.

Revealed behind it was the shape of a stag with great branching antlers and holes for eyes.

"It's here!" she breathed incredulously.

The Wild Hunt was here.

There was no time to ponder, as that entire mass of malevolent spirit energy suddenly rushed down in a swirling vortex of disruptive power that caused this planet's natural rhythm to scream in protest. It collided with the city, but then rather than leaving any sign of damage, the cyclone simply dissipated as though it had never been. Around them, the humans of Tingo María paid this supernatural reaction no mind. Some of them shivered as though uncomfortable despite the warmth before proceeding to go about their business.

Noboru took advantage of the distraction. He grabbed hold of Soifon's leg with both hands and managed to wrench himself to the side, freeing his neck. As he rolled upright one hand lashed out to seize hold of his zanpakutō, but the captain recovered in time to keep it from being wrenched away.

Or so she thought. Before the ninja mistress could react, the baying of a thousand bloodthirsty beasts sent a shock through the very spiritual aether of this world. This disruption made it feel like she was standing on a violently tilting surface, a storm-swept ocean rather than solid ground. Ururu had fallen to one knee, while Soifon rocked back and forth in a desperate effort to stabilize herself.

For one instant her grip slackened, and Noboru seized this opportunity to pull his weapon free. He then turned and shot away fast as shunpō.

"Masahiko, halt!"

About to take off in pursuit, Soifon was stopped by the sound of a frantic scream.

She looked down in time to catch sight of an exotic fish vendor crashing through the front of his stall. He shrieked through bloodied lips, tearing at his face and arms while what looked to be several piranha sank their razor-sharp teeth into his flesh. Elsewhere, a child was wailing hysterically as several desperate passerby sought to pull away a stray dog that was savagely worrying her leg between its jaws. Without warning the maddened beast tore away with bits of the child's skin dangling free. It then slipped swiftly through the legs of the frightened humans, none of whom attempted to catch the dog for fear of being bitten by the obviously mad animal. Uttering a ragged howl, it tore off down the lane.

The world of the spirit impinged upon mankind even further. Everywhere birds tore free of their cages and took to the air. Monkeys and marmosets, dogs and alley cats, pigs and lizards. A veritable menagerie of insane beasts ripped loose of whatever restrained them and raced along the city streets, snapping and clawing at anyone foolish enough to bar their path.

All of them were moving in the same direction Masahiko had fled.

Chōjirō dropped beside Soifon only for an instant. Their eyes met, and then both took off in pursuit with Ururu following swiftly behind.

As she ran, Soifon cursed herself. Now things were so much worse. It was Masahiko the Hunt had been after! His unleashing of spiritual power allowed them to get a bead on him. Could Lady Yoruichi have suspected something of this nature? Was that why they had been tasked with locating him?

Curse it! This is all my fault! I had him, and let him go! Yoruichi-sama will be furious if they let the target escape, or worse, if he actually died!

Resolve.

And so Soifon must not fail.

I will capture the child. Destroy the Hunt if need be! Whatever it takes to complete my mission!

Even if it costs me my life. This I swear.

To be continued…