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.

4. Winter's End: All in the Family

"Soifon, I forbid you to kill yourself."

The knife stopped an inch from opening the Viper Company captain's stomach. She looked up with incomprehension large in her eyes.

"But… My Lady…!" Soifon protested from her position on the ground with both hands still wrapped firmly around the hilt of a kunai. "I have transgressed against your family! Whether unknowing or not, the things I said and did…!"

"Oh, I can guess what happened," her patron saint smiled sardonically while throwing a wink at Noboru. "He probably put you through your paces, got up in your face, disparaged and belittled every suggestion that he didn't think of first, and generally refused to cooperate with anything you asked. Which necessitated a little forceful persuasion on your part. Did I leave anything out, Masahiko?" She turned to her sulky-looking child for confirmation.

"I didn't know who they were," he muttered in his defense. Noboru wasn't looking at any of them when he spoke, seemingly determined to contemplate the ground as hard as possible. Still barefoot and wearing the same jersey and torn blue jeans from before, he stood out even further in this regally eclectic company. His toes were digging a furrow through the soil in a clear sign of discomfort.

Meanwhile, Soifon was having far more difficulty overlooking her own indiscretions than Yoruichi. She slipped the knife back into her cloak before abasing herself in the dirt as she deserved. "I humbly relinquish all rank and title, and request to be imprisoned until such time as an appropriate sentence can be determined. Viper Squad will remain under my lieutenant's auspices while a suitable replacement is found. For my numerous acts of disobedience and disparaging slights I ask no pardon, unforgiveable as they are."

The three members of the Shihoin clan regarded their submissive seneschal curiously. Noboru craned his head around toward his mother. "Is this basket-case related to us?" He pointed at Soifon, who did not rise to the bait as he half-expected she would.

With a fond smile Yoruichi took him by the shoulder and guided him over to where the smaller woman lay. "Her name is Shaolin Feng. Her family has served ours loyally for 17 generations. There is no one else I could have depended on to better ensure you would be brought safely to me. Now," here the noblewoman adopted a stern tone of voice that matched the new lordly set of her features, "tell Feng that you absolve her of any perceived crime she may have committed towards you in the pursuit of her duties."

The boy scowled blackly. "She killed a friend of mine," he bit out in a voice thick with emotion. "And she was going to murder the girl too! Why should…?"

"I'm not asking you to forgive her," Yoruichi continued. "Especially not for something she did to someone other than you. I said to absolve your vassal for her behavior towards her sworn liege. That is what she needs."

Noboru gave her an incredulous look. "This is nuts," he asserted.

When Yoruichi did not smile or jape, a sick certainty dawned on him that she was serious for a change. Frustrated, he turned back to the woman groveling at his feet. She did not look at them or respond to anything being said. The youth regarded her with perplexity and no small amount of hostility.

"I won't."

His lady mother sighed. "Whether you recognize it or not, kiddo, your life changed in the last 24 hours. You're no longer free to do as you please. Just like me, from this point on you'll have to take a lot of people and things into consideration. And you're going to need all the allies you can get. Now…"

She took a firm grip of his shoulders and pulled him down so that both were crouched before Soifon together. "Do your duty, and don't make a fuss. I mean it, Masahiko," her icy-casual words cut through the protest half-formed on his lips. "I'm not leaving you any room to wiggle here. So make with the kingly largesse or risk losing your mother's confidence."

Standing behind them, Sasakibe and Jinta did not fail to notice how tense the boy's posture had become. His fists shook as they clenched and unclenched stiffly. Yoruichi gave no further commands. Instead she leaned in and touched her brow against the side of his head, closing her eyes while enfolding him in a deeper embrace. They remained like this for a while during which no one dared to move.

At last Noboru appeared to relax. He let out an unsteady breath before declaring somewhat shakily, "I absolve you of any crimes against me, Shaolin Feng."

"Thank you, Lord," Soifon responded from facedown. "It shall never happen again."

"Yes it will," Yoruichi said with a flippant toss of her hair as she stood up. "You two are going to be very close from now on, and unless I miss my guess, there will be hell to pay all around. But it'll be worth it. I'm positive of that." She then turned and strode off towards the boulder looming behind them. "C'mon, let's get comfortable. I'd like to hear everything that led up to this."

From out of nowhere Jinta had seemingly produced a colorful picnic cloth and spread it over the grass. Several cushions offered further benefit for any weary bodies to recline upon. Light refreshments were set out along with cups of saké, though in one seat the rice wine was replaced by juice. Noboru didn't seem concerned at this juvenile treatment as the adults sat to begin discussing their recent adventure. He kept his face closed and sat without looking at his companions, though his eyes lingered curiously on Jinta for a while. The other boy appeared too intent on performing his serving duties to notice or desire any attention directed his way. After a while the curious noble gave up and tried to figure out where exactly in the story they might be.

"… cut off her arm to make certain of this," Soifon stated crisply. "His compliance followed soon after."

Noboru was just on the verge of interjecting with his own assessment when he noticed something. The red-headed kid doing all the grunt work had grown still for a moment. Like he couldn't remember what he was doing. This left him standing there with a knife poised to chop up some pickled carrots. As he watched unobtrusively, the lackey went back to his work. His motions were nowhere near as swift and assured as before. All the same, the dish was completed, and several sets of chilled vegetables were placed before the diners. After this their servant stood up and backed away a few paces to stand out of sight. He held himself with great care, but still Noboru caught a brief venomous look he turned on Soifon.

Right then the boy noticed him watching and hurriedly dropped his gaze. They had just come to the point where it was Sasakibe alone against the Hunt. Not really interested in hearing the details, Noboru stood up. Yoruichi's eyes flicked over at him, but he just shrugged and laced both hands behind his head while aimlessly sauntering off. She didn't call him on it, so while the grown-ups were busy talking he made his way over to where their servant stood.

The bug-eyed attendant regarded him mistrustfully as he approached. Noboru drew up right beside him and stopped so they were facing different directions.

"Are you a friend of Ururu?" he asked.

The kid might have nodded. He continued staring fixedly ahead.

"She made it out alive."

Now he registered those beady eyes flickering over out of the corner of his own. "I know."

The boy's voice was as sour as his face. This one definitely wasn't as impressed with him as that Feng woman. Noboru recognized there wasn't much point in his trying to offer comfort considering Ururu had been hurt entirely because of him. Still, he felt a compulsion to reach out to a fellow soul in distress. There weren't many people he knew his own age. And didn't Yoruichi herself say he needed to make allies?

"I helped treat her while Sasakibe was busy mending the ninja woman. Ururu made it through alright, and he gave her an injection afterward that just…" Noboru coughed slightly. "Well, it grew her arm back. But she was pretty weak so he insisted that she stay behind at the lookout while we came here."

"You think I care?"

The level of animosity in those words surprised him. He could feel his temper start to flare and had to work to suppress it. "I thought you would want to…"

"I ain't worried about her!" the fiery-haired tot insisted forcefully. He seemed to remember his place immediately after, because his voice dropped to a hiss, and still he did not look at the other youth. "I mean I don't… you don't need to tell me anything… sir." It sounded like he was chewing on nails with that last word. "We keep track of each other. Ururu told me she was all right after you left, so I'm fine. We're… fine. No thanks to you."

He didn't know whether to feel offended or guilty. Noboru settled for attempting to start the conversation over. "What's your name?"

The kid crossed his arms stubbornly but finally spit out, "Jinta."

"Got a last name, Jinta?"

"Yeah. Do you?"

Put me through his eye. See how smart he sounds then!

Noboru was all set to obey this suggestion when something dawned upon him. Come to think of it, now might be a pretty good time to ask. So instead of escalating the tension he merely patted Jinta on the shoulder and said, "Thanks. I needed that."

The ugly little misanthrope had a confused expression as Noboru strolled back to the discussion. It sounded like they were just about wrapping things up. Chōjirō was detailing his efforts to resuscitate Soifon after they got to Soul Society. Yoruichi had on a look of concern as she surveyed her seemingly healthy servant. "How are you feeling, Shaolin?"

Soifon bowed her head in acknowledgement. "I am fully recovered, My Lady."

"That's an exaggeration, but we'll let it slide."

"Who was my father?"

Everyone stopped whatever they had been doing. Attention shifted now from Yoruichi to Noboru, who calmly took his seat amidst that company. He felt very confident at this moment. Like nothing could thwart him. Because of this he didn't bother to elaborate and simply stared at his mother. She didn't appear surprised at this sudden outburst. But neither did she make any move to respond.

"Masahiko," the grandfatherly Sasakibe began in gentle tones, "now might not be the best time to discuss such topics."

"It's alright, Otoo-san." His mistress held up a hand. "Who's to say when we might get another chance to talk civilly in a peaceful fashion? I imagine you all have a few questions of your own to ask me."

That sounded like a preface to evasion, something Noboru was long familiar with and deeply resented. "I can tell that they don't know the answer." He gestured over to the two attendants. "You just called Sasakibe 'uncle', and even he was surprised when I called you 'Mom'. Snappy Swordfish over there almost bit her tongue off. Means they didn't have a clue. But now it's all out in the open. So are you going to tell me who my father is?" A bitter smile twisted his lip. "Or is it just that you don't know for sure yourself?"

Soifon was on her feet immediately and angry enough to spill his blood by the look of it. He could feel murderous intent rolling off her in waves. Were he not the son of her liege lady that would probably have been the end of 'civil discourse' right there.

On the contrary, Yoruichi wasn't upset. Not in any way he could judge. She just gazed at him without saying a word. Maybe there was some kind of unknown magic at work here, because out of nowhere a stab of guilt wrung his heart, making the cocky young noble feel like an ungrateful little shit.

Why didn't you stop me?

Who am I, your mother?

That just made things worse. It was even more humiliating how fast he found himself blurting out, "I'm sorry."

The woman who was the only family he had ever known tilted her head up slightly. "There are few enough people in the world who can love you unreservedly, my son." Yoruichi leaned close to run a hand down his arm and clasped his fingers firmly. "You should take care of them as well as you can. I know you're upset that I left you alone for so long. You wanted to come with me but I never allowed it. That was the best way I could think of to keep you safe. If I stayed around you all the time it might have attracted attention. So I kept my distance and any visits were of the short and sweet variety."

"But understand," and here her voice held a different undercurrent than before. "As much as you hated being left alone, I hated leaving you even more. You are my son and I regret missing out on a large part of your life forever. My only consolation is that you might not have had one if I stayed." Yoruichi straightened up and looked down on him. "You've seen what our enemies are like now. Tell me: did it frighten you?"

This question caused him to shiver. It brought back the memory of claws and teeth all around along with a desperate realization of failure. For a few moments he could not answer, and when he did Noboru spoke only one word in a very quiet voice. "Yes."

She nodded in a sort of stern satisfaction. "We managed to come out on top against them once. But it wasn't a permanent win. And the fact that someone is after you shows that nothing has been resolved. Just delayed. We need to go all out against them. That includes you. The time for hiding is past. Now it's war."

A queer sort of sickly feeling grew inside his bones. Having experienced this very same thing only hours past, Noboru instantly recognized it as fear. The prospect of dying loomed large in his mind. Never had it felt so… inevitable. The thought left him cold.

Almost as if sensing this, Yoruichi hugged him fast in a tight embrace. He remained still as a conflicting sensation of comfort fought against his own rising fears. Then, like the sun melting ice, the terror was consumed by that soothing presence, and he clasped his mother in return with a grateful gasp.

"I won't let them have you," she whispered while stroking his hair. "Neither I nor your father will allow that to happen. You're safe with the ones who love you, Noboru."

He had almost forgotten what started this. Her words brought it back. "My father?" he sniffed.

"Yes. It's the reason behind the name that I gave you. 'Noboru', which I decided on before you were born, meaning 'to climb'. Because you will; whether mountains or enemies, you will overcome any obstacle. But the false family name 'Kouki' had double significance; 'tall tree'. I could feel your partner right from the start and what he meant to you."

That's kind of nice. Even if it was a fake, she thought of it because of me.

"The real reason I gave you that surname," Yoruichi murmured while continuing to stroke his hair reassuringly, "is because it sounds similar to your true one. So that when the time came you wouldn't require any great effort to accept your identity. Now, then…"

And here she put a finger beneath his chin, raising his eyes to meet her own. They were sparkling golden, full of fire and mischief, and Noboru felt any lingering anxiety at what was coming next disappear.

"Your full name, my son, is Kuchiki Noboru. Your father is Kuchiki Byakuya, the 28th head of the clan and Lord-Commander of the Gotei 7."

"AAAAAAHHH!"

Surprised, Yoruichi glanced behind her. She and everyone else now focused on Soifon, whose face was twisted in an expression of incomprehensible horror the likes of which none of them had ever known from her.

"Captain Soifon," Yoruichi asked carefully, "Something wrong?"

The tiny ninja closed her gaping trap so fast she narrowly missed biting her tongue off. "No! That is…! NO! You can't…! I mean he can't…! When did you…? Time travel…? No, impossible, so then how could he… be…?"

With a supreme show of force Soifon seemingly mastered her shock, at least enough to form a coherent sentence. "My Lady," she began in somewhat ragged tones, "By my estimation your son is… no more than 100 years old. So then how could… that MAN have… done THIS… to YOU!"

Yoruichi raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that obvious?"

A tremor went through the petite brunette's body from her feet on up to her crown. "But…" she choked, face having gone a sickly shade of blue. "That is to say, back then, he was hardly any older than this boy is now! Are you telling me that…?"

"One hundred years ago, Byakuya and I were lovers."

Oddly enough Noboru felt himself to be the only person who didn't have some kind of emotional investment in this revelation. That was strange, considering it was his parentage under discussion. He looked between the rest of them curiously. Yoruichi appeared as blandly confident as though they were discussing the weather. Her uncle Chōjirō (which makes him my great-uncle) had taken to stroking the tips of his moustache in what could be a sign of distress. As for Jinta, he was staring at Yoruichi as though unable to believe she could have done such a preposterous thing.

But the pièce de résistance had to be the Feng woman. She had gone white as a sheet and seemingly aged twenty years in the last ten seconds. It looked as though a few hairs might have fallen out to boot.

Then quite suddenly the female ninja was crouching right beside him. Before he could so much as blink in surprise Soifon grabbed hold of his chin in a vice-like grip and thrust his bangs out of the way with the other hand. Her deranged black eyes then bore into his astonished gray ones. The insane way she looked at him prevented any attempt to break free before he could even think it. Yoruichi just watched them both with a funny little smile while Noboru sat unresisting.

The crazy lady took in his unusual coloring, including how a ring of gold encircled each of his irises. She jerked his head to one side and peered into his ear, then whipped him back around and forcibly opened his mouth. "Say 'Ahhh'!"

"What?"

"Just do it!" she practically screamed at him.

He complied. "Ahhh."

The captain stared.

"It's true."

Soifon whispered this in a flat deflated voice. She stood and stumbled a few steps back, looking about ready to keel over on the spot. Yoruichi lithely stood and sidled up to her with a smile, clapping a friendly hand on the younger woman's shoulder in what might be an attempt to keep her from collapsing. Soifon never took her eyes off Noboru. There was something hollow in that flat black stare, as though a light on the inside had been snuffed out forever.

"There, you see?" Yoruichi sang cheerfully. "All verified, so everybody's certain."

Noboru watched this scene in frank incomprehension. "Is my Dad a criminal or something?"

Yoruichi threw him a startled look, then flung her head back and laughed. He might have been offended but for the way she stepped forward to embrace him unreservedly. This relaxed the boy. His mother had always been very open with affection, never sparing when it came to expressing her love. When she was around, that is.

"It might sound that way given how we're talking about him." Yoruichi drew back and favored him with one of her fiercely happy smiles that beamed like the sun. "But I'm the lawbreaker in the family, and I've got the record to prove it. Your Dad would pop a blood vessel if anybody so much as thought to accuse him of behaving improperly. I can't wait for him to meet you!"

Suddenly his royal parent stood up. Her face had slipped into a cold regal mask so fast it made him shiver. "But you can't yet."

He jumped up. "What? Why not?" Noboru hated how whiny he sounded just then, as though he were simply another immature stripling. Although after having waited so long to have his lineage confirmed, dangling the chance to finally meet his parent before him only to snatch it away seemed a little too cruel.

Yoruichi draped an arm in tender fashion around his shoulder and led him off for them to converse together privately. The others present didn't seem to want to interfere on this family tableau. Her expression remained aloof, but this was belied by the concern he heard in her voice. "Right now your father is in a sensitive position. He's overseeing the reconstitution of Soul Society as well as managing the Gotei 7. The pressure he's been working under is severe, and it's only now starting to yield fruit. If he learns he's got a long-lost son no one ever told him about he might just snap."

"You mean you never told him about me," Noboru muttered accusingly.

She inclined her head in a way that accepted his criticism and dismissed it at the same time. "Now that I'm free to move about I intend to help your father with all my strength. I'll broach the topic to him gently, when he's prepared to listen. Just let me do this for you my way, Noboru. So that you won't be disappointed when it happens. Will you let me?"

He tried to think of a cogent argument that would defeat anything she might possibly throw at him. Even Hanuman helped out in his self-absorbed flash-fire way. But ultimately some small long-buried yearning to please his mother rose up and throttled all those impassioned arguments, so that he found himself saying in a disgruntled way, "Okay."

"Perfect. Now, for the time being, we need to decide on your new living arrangements. I considered having you move in with my uncle, only people might get the wrong idea about that." Behind her Sasakibe raised a carefully trimmed eyebrow but did not interrupt his mistress. "Soul Society is nowhere near safe enough for you to live in on your own. Too much disorder remaining, I'd be worried sick every moment."

She didn't sound particularly distressed. But then Yoruichi was a master at dissembling her true intentions. Noboru still couldn't shake free of the suspicion that she was just leading them all around by the nose to reach the destination she wanted. "Where, then?" he demanded with all the impatience and moodiness of his years. "I can't go back to Earth if that Hunt is going to keep chasing me."

She's smiling and trying to hide it.

When he looked at her face closely, there was no indication of repressed mirth. But Hanuman had a very good sense of when somebody was laughing at him. A sinking feeling developed in his stomach. "Can I?"

"No. No, of course not." Yoruichi squeezed his shoulder while giving him a very concerned caring look. "That would be absolutely crazy, am I right?"

The sinking had developed into a full-blown queasy mess of quicksand. "But that's what you're going to have me do anyway," he muttered.

His mother tussled his hair in that lovingly demeaning way she had. "Right as usual, kiddo. Glad to see you're catching on to our strategy, such as it were. Our group is not above doing crazy and potentially ill-advised actions. Which serves to aggravate fussy detail-oriented people like Feng over there, but nowhere near as much as it does our enemies. As Kisuke is wont to say, it's kind of like being an incredibly untrustworthy magician. If you announce you're going to saw someone in half and instead turn everyone in the audience into purple cats with horns growing out of their foreheads, a few of them might cry foul, but that doesn't mean they're not still secretly amazed at what you did!"

Noboru did not look particularly impressed at this extravagant declaration. Nonetheless Yoruichi proceeded as if he had wholeheartedly hopped on board her demented paddy-wagon. "There are avenues open to us on Earth that don't exist in Soul Society. How do you think I managed to go undetected for over a century? Even staying a cat couldn't cut it forever. So whenever four fingers and a thumb became essential, I used a special gigai Kisuke whipped up for me."

That was the second time she had mentioned that name. "And this Kisuke is someone we can trust?"

"About as far as you can throw him by his hair," the flash goddess pronounced mysteriously. "He's another one of our family retainers, though not nearly as obedient as Feng. He'll still give us a faux body that nobody will be able to track your spirit signature through."

Chōjirō coughed politely to get their attention then. "I take it this means you will be releasing Captain Urahara from his enforced furlough?"

"No need," Yoruichi turned on him cheerfully. "I already let Kisuke out. He's been free for well over a month now."

"WHAT?"

Both Feng and Chōjirō looked at one another as if to demand whether they had known about this. The clearly flustered younger ninja then turned back to their leader and asked in a voice of forced equanimity, "That wretch has been on the loose all this time without anyone's knowledge or supervision? But then… Milady, if he is gone, why have you remained?"

"Simple. If everyone thinks they know where we are it means they're not looking for us. Makes it easier to get things done."

This whole business was starting to make Noboru tired. "So who's going to know where I am now?"

Yoruichi swept out a hand to encompass the people in the glade. "Us, for starters. But what you're really asking me is about your future living arrangements, right?"

Though wearing nothing but a robe, Yoruichi still managed to project an aura of queenly grace. She settled an appraising eye on her son, seeming to be judging whether or not he was fit for what she had in mind. That or maybe she was weighing the merits of this particular course of action.

Get serious. Like Yoruichi ever second-guesses herself.

At last his unpredictable parent appeared to reach some sort of decision. She then placed an arm on his shoulder and proceeded to lead him back to where the others waited. "This'll work," she bent to whisper in his ear as they approached.

When they had rejoined the group Yoruichi drew herself up proudly. "For his safety, I have decided that my son, Kuchiki Noboru, shall be entrusted to the care of his paternal aunt, Kuchiki Rukia."

At this pronouncement Soifon went stiff as an iron girder. Black eyes quivered wildly. "HER?" she snarled through clenched teeth. "After what she did? After ALL she DID? My Lady, I kept my peace after the war, and even when Captain Kotetsu made her choice, for it was not my place to dictate another division's inner workings. But this is too much! You are asking us to allow the future clan head to be placed in the power of a known criminal!"

Noboru frowned. "Seriously, what sort of people are these Kuchiki?"

"Feng," Yoruichi began tenderly, a dear smile softening her face. "Feng, Feng, Feng." The lady of Shihoin stepped forward and embraced her servant. Soifon lost any last reserve of cool, turning red enough to pass for a traffic light.

"M-My Lady," she squeaked in a voice one decibel higher than normal, "We shouldn't, that is, you shouldn't be seen…!"

"This just hasn't been your day," the flash goddess crooned as she petted her apprentice's head like a confounded puppy. "Just not your day, huh?"

Uh-oh. This doesn't sound good.

Hanuman's suspicions were confirmed when Yoruichi spoke next. "Nope, not your day. And it gets worse. Because you see, I'm handing over training of Masahiko to you. You're in charge of his continued development until I say otherwise."

It was hard to say which of them looked more thunderstruck at this arrangement. Like their worlds had just been yanked out from under them in the manner of a cheap throw-rug. One thing was certain, though. This only proved what he had suspected all along: she hid it well, but Yoruichi was completely nuts.

She seemed to take their shocked silence for agreement. "Now then," his mother sang as she turned back to him, "Let's get you settled in!"

---

Isshin Kurosaki sat at his dining room table with a newspaper in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. His eyes roamed across the pages. Every so often he would turn his head and take a sip of coffee, perhaps making only slightly more of a slurping sound than was necessary, never stopping his diligent reading. After a while he lowered both accessories.

"What do you think? Pretty convincing, eh?"

"Hmmm." Across from him, Urahara Kisuke left off picking at a plate of Turkish delight to rub his whiskered chin in a thoughtful manner. "A fair performance, but… no."

"What?" the single father proclaimed indignantly. "You're pulling my leg! No way you could tell! Why, I even kept my eyes moving across the page as though I was reading type." As he spoke Isshin plopped the paper down, revealing a dirty magazine cleverly concealed behind its folds.

"And an artful bit of deception it was. But you neglected one very important detail. Your eyes were reading from right to left. And as you can see here…" Urahara pointed meaningfully at the discarded newsprint. "This is a Russian paper. The words go from left to right in the Western fashion."

"Eh?" His colleague peered down to verify this. Upon confirmation of the point his shoulders slumped. "Well, sunnuvagun. So it is. That's what comes from poor preparation. This article arrived as packaging in that last shipment of medical supplies we received. I just grabbed it up without noticing." Isshin's face settled into a morose expression. He sagged forward until his chin rested upon the tabletop. "Karin would have kicked my ass for sure then."

"And how."

Out in the hall they heard the front door open and close. The fact that it didn't slam told them much about who had joined their little party. Both men remained where they were. Neither needed to rise and see who it was. A sense more occult than not revealed they were about to be joined by two extraordinary souls. The sound of coats and hats being discarded followed, along with some low dialogue concerning the removal of shoes. Moments later, Nanao Ise strolled into the kitchen followed closely by Shinji Hirako.

"Morning, gents!" The Vaizard leader sported a distinctive smile that showed off his enthusiastic approach to virtually anything. The two men offered casual nods and lifting of hands as the blonde houseguest pulled up a chair and began helping himself to some Turkish delight. Shinji paused with a square of pink confection halfway to his mouth. "Do these have nuts in them?"

"Not at all," Isshin offered.

"Good." He promptly popped the sweetmeat into his mouth. "They stick in my teeth. Plus the different textures don't really do anything for me."

"Some might consider that to be restrictive of new experiences," Isshin chided him slightly, to which the hybrid warrior shook his shaggy head in emphatic fashion.

"I like my treats the way I like my ladies: soft and succulent!"

"But musculature improves the shape and prolongs duration of physical performance, at least in my experience," Urahara stated. "It's a matter of preference, I'll grant you, however in terms of equal output vis-á-vis exertions in the bedchamber one can't ignore how an overwhelming discrepancy in partners can lead to dissatisfied customers while also…"

"Ahem."

Nanao cleared her throat as a means to get their attention. Obviously this continuing debate held nothing of merit, and so it fell to her as the most mature individual present to get the conversation back on track. They looked over at where she stood by the head of the table. All three appeared as though only now having remembered her presence and feeling uncertain how to proceed next. Once their eyes were upon her she began.

"Thank you. Having spoken to several of the people best suited to offer relevant advice on the matter, my investigation is complete. There are several important items to report. After meeting with Captain Hirako," she nodded slightly to where the man in question continued to stuff his face, "I have now combed all pertinent avenues both firsthand and auxiliary pertaining to the enemy we face. Thanks to this a more precise picture than ever before is available as to its motives and tendencies."

Nanao removed three data tablets from a satchel she carried and presented one to each of her confidantes before continuing her summation. "Captain Hirako offered to accompany me in order to present up-to-date info on his group's recent activities in Hueco Mundo. With that we can formulate a viable strategy on how to handle the Hunt. If you'll look at the document labeled 'Directory A' you will find…"

"It's gone."

She threw a sharp look at Isshin upon his interruption. "I checked each pad before coming here, they should all have the adequate protocols to…"

"No, I meant the Hunt. It got wiped out a couple days ago."

He had recovered his newspaper and flipped it open. Noticing the nudie mag hidden inside it, Shinji raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner and held out a hopeful hand. The other captain obligingly passed over the article with a genial smile, opting to turn to the horoscope sections of the paper where the daily nude photo was also included. For his part Urahara tapped his watch and held it to one ear as if checking to see if the device had run down.

In the ensuing silence, Nanao's cheeks had gone pale.

"Excuse me?"

"The Wild Hunt has already been disposed of," Urahara offered while scrunching his eyes in mild concentration as he listened to the timepiece. "Soifon and Sasakibe came and killed it while you were gone. We felt it all the way on the other side of the globe. Pretty fast response time, if you ask me. They got here so quick one might almost suspect they were already lying in wait for the thing."

Hirako leafed through his porn mag idly. "I wonder who it was after in the first place?"

Kisuke nodded in a wise and sagacious fashion. "Ah, that is the crux of the matter, isn't it? Who in this world would warrant such high consideration as to merit sending an interdimensional hit squad after them? Certainly there are few enough worthwhile targets outside of this hemisphere, or indeed this house. I posit that maybe…"

A cracking sound caused the lazy philosopher to look up. All theorizing died out soon after. His colleagues exchanged uneasy looks. For Nanao Ise remained looming over them, gripping the back of a chair so hard its timber was splitting beneath her fingers. That coupled with the way her lips had pressed together to form two thin white lines served to dispel the previous warmth and camaraderie that had existed in that kitchen space.

Without any undue haste, she reached up and removed her glasses.

The trio of captains each felt an identical lance of cold fear stab into the base of their spines. Having no apparent consideration for their discomfort Nanao slid one hand into her sleeve. Her housemates tensed and more than one reached to where they normally might find their own soul cutters. Before any further trepidation could compel them into reacting violently, her fingers emerged holding nothing more deadly than a white handkerchief. Stitched into one corner was a flamboyant red rose along with a brief line of poetry. Nanao then began to punctiliously clean her spectacles with this item.

"If I may inquire," she spoke ever so softly while remaining focused on her work, "is there any particular reason why no one saw fit to inform me of this development earlier?" With great care and no overt menace at all she lifted the lenses before her face to give them a close inspection. "I could have been saved the inconvenience of a trip to Soul Society, not to mention Hueco Mundo. Why, then, was I not informed?"

Her dark eyes flickered ever so briefly in Isshin's direction. The other two relaxed somewhat since it had now become clear they were not being singled out for blame in this instance. Their host, however, boasted a pallor usually seen in the gravely ill. He had also begun to sweat noticeably.

"Nanao-san, I thought… why pull you off the case? 'Forewarned is forearmed', as the saying goes! And goodness knows this wasn't the end of it. The Wild Hunt will resurface again at some time in the future. Your findings might be just what we need to counter it when that… inevitably… happens…"

His voice trailed off. Her gaze had now settled heavily upon the ashen Isshin. "And it had nothing to do with the fact that an old friend stopped by," she turned one cold eye on Kisuke, who had produced a fan and was endeavoring to hide as much of his face behind it as he could, "so that you never even considered warning me because you were too busy having fun?"

"Well…"

"Because I like to have fun too."

She was smiling now, an expression not often seen on her face and all the more horrible as a result. Isshin certainly couldn't recall ever catching her in a moment of good humor. Not that he was at all fooled into believing that smile portended anything but maniacal punishment for yours truly.

Having determined that they were not the target of her ire, his cohorts went about their business with nary a glance at the anxious doctor now. He shot them both a pleading look but was met with total confirmed denial. He had, in fact, been disassociated. They were no longer his acquaintances and would take no more interest in any awful things that befell him than if they were three strangers eating their lunches separately in the park. It was a cold, ruthless decision on their parts and he couldn't help but admire them for it. Now that's the mark of a professional right there.

You just need to relax, my man. Pour on the charm and watch her melt like cool beautiful butter.

Excuse me? Do you think I went into the Kidō Corps because I was too smooth with people? Hell no! It's because I'm a complete and utter doofus when it comes to social interactions! Especially concerning the ladies.

I'm just saying, what's with the whole bones-turned-to-jelly routine, dude? Throw her over your shoulder and dance around the room for a bit until she can't stop laughing. Then tell her to make us some snacks, we're starving. Not like she would do you any serious damage.

Look. I know full well that I could beat Nanao in a fight… probably.

Probably?

But that's not the point! There's a reason nobody messes with her. It's like… a vibe. If you're not too stupid to pick up on it, that little premonition might just save your life. Reminiscent of the automatic danger reaction that comes from spotting a cobra rearing above the grass in front of you. You can't fight your instincts, and mine are telling me not to move a muscle in this situation, lest the hooded serpent strike! Hssss!

Oh wow, I mean, that's just harsh. She's a lady, man! Don't turn her into a monster.

Oh, really? I've never known you to mouth off to her zanpakutō. Why is that, hmmm?

Well, see, Ureshii freaks me out. Big time. She's got those crazy eyes, man. You can tell. She's squirrel-shit nutty with some seriously crazy eyes. Sweet, though.

I think it's obvious who the mature one is here. So just sit back and let me do the talking. Don't worry, everything's going to be fine.

Nanao's behind you.

Huh? SUNNAVU…!

She had indeed drawn up right in back of his chair, wearing a look that just screamed 'unhealthy interest'. At least in his opinion. Maybe it was a result of the medical training he had received informing that suspicion. Did the others pick up on anything similar? Really must remember to ask…

"Do you know how I have fun?" her oddly light voice sounded over his head. He felt like a prisoner before the bench as a hanging judge was about to read his sentence. No way to even throw yourself on the mercy of the court.

Nanao offered them all a cold, brittle smile. "I give lectures… with slides."

Every man at that table groaned.

---

"Good morning, Mayor Wakahisa!"

"Good day to you, ladies," the village head inclined his gleaming topknot in response as he passed them on the arch of a bridge. Two noblewomen dressed in glamorous kimonos bowed respectfully at the waist towards him. A pair of attendants held bamboo umbrellas behind their mistresses in case they need fear sweating off their makeup in the rays of this warm winter sun. The respect afforded their village chief was evident in the depth of their obeisance. His stern but polite acknowledgement served to illustrate the graciousness that should be observed by all public officials towards their charges.

The customers ate it up. Alerted by the call of the noblewomen, they accepted this opportunity to snap a few pictures with their cameras and cell phones as both parties met upon the bridge with mountains rising in the background. It was an excellent photo op and he was glad the two sharp-eyed actresses had picked up on his signal.

Having completed his duty, Suzuki Denbei, stage-name 'Mayor Wakahisa', hurriedly strode off to attend to his real business.

As a performer employed at the Kioshimura Theme Park, Denbei enjoyed the opportunity to cultivate his craft virtually non-stop every day. It was almost like living two lives. In one, he was the mayor of Kioshimura, an established Edo-era trading post and former mining town in northern Honshou. It was his job to manage the village assets as well as coordinate with his superiors in the provincial capital. He dressed well for a man of this period and lived better than most. His fellow villagers afforded him respect and he took pride in demonstrating the affluence and prosperity of Kioshimura to the inquisitive travelers who stopped by here from distant lands.

This was the more exhilarating of his dual identities. For in the other, he was simply Suzuki Denbei, a college dropout and young actor whose career options were so low he could not get work on film, television or radio if his life depended on it. And in a way, it did. For nothing came cheap in today's economy, and there was little more unsavory than an unemployed actor. Which explained why a theme park like this was really as much a necessity as it was a godsend. His room and board was provided at no cost as a result of living on the park grounds, which were designed to look just like a feudal village. There were accommodations for the guests if they felt like staying the night, but the regular workers boasted some pretty snazzy living arrangements themselves. It truly was mercy from heaven that he had lucked into such a career.

Of course, he wasn't the only one to experience this blessed windfall. Kioshimura also employed people skilled in traditional crafts like weaving, calligraphy, and even metalsmithing. What counted as largely a hobby in the modern world could here be put to use earning a decent living. The craftsmen worked on display for the paying customers, and what they made was available for sale at very reasonable rates. You could purchase hand-woven kimono or a bamboo jingasa hat and dress up just like a local. Denbei had no idea who actually owned the park. He had signed a contract with an official representing an acting agency hired by a company that was part of a corporation owned by an offshore firm and maybe a hundred other different levels of subsidiary dominion which ultimately topped nobody knew where. Some of the park staff theorized they might actually be owned by the Imperial Family of Japan themselves, but hardly anyone could offer conclusive evidence to support it. Old records from the Tokugawa era indicated there might have been a village here at one time. Unfortunately hamlets from that period tended to get wiped out in various purges instituted by the government. Perhaps it was best not to dig too deeply.

Not that it mattered. Suzuki was just happy to be getting paid doing what he loved. Acting made him feel inspired and worthwhile in a way nothing else even came close. That meant a great deal to a fellow in his position. Life hadn't exactly been generous to him. In all other respects he was mediocre in the worst possible way. Even his name held nothing of interest, boasting two of the most common titles you could find in all of Japan. This small but longstanding resentment had greatly influenced his choice of the name 'Wakahisa' for his character, both eye-catching and highly unusual.

And so Mayor Wakahisa made his way past beautifully recreated wooden buildings and roadside stalls selling fried eel and paper trinkets. A group of actors dressed as unemployed miners were playing the town drunks up ahead, offering saké to the children and laughing good-naturedly when their parents refused. He made sure to scold them on his way past just like an official mayor would do, and his cohorts played their parts by scattering in every direction. He then thanked the audience for visiting while offering them advice on local sights of interest.

Kioshimura was a fairly large attraction, but not so big you couldn't walk from one end to another in under half an hour. Therefore it took him only a few minutes to reach his destination in the craftsmen's district. Better try and make this quick. There's a bandit assault scheduled for 3:30 in the afternoon. Passing by tanners making leather goods and pottery artists hard at work, he reached the booth belonging to the town silversmith.

"Now, don't you gals look pretty. If ya aren't careful, an ōni might sneak up and whisk ya both away to his castle in the underworld!"

Two teenage girls in school uniforms giggled as they accepted the silversmith's praise. Now sporting some flashing silver ornaments, they bid him goodbye and strolled off together whispering and chancing occasional looks back. He just smiled and waved, causing them to titter merrily. The customers completely ignored Denbei as he approached. Which shouldn't have caused him any irritation, but damn him if it didn't. This sort of thing was…

"Hey, speakin' of big ugly monsters, here comes our own dear Mayor Wakahisa! How's it goin', boss?"

Gato Izanagi the town silversmith chuckled at this witticism. His coworker frowned at that remark and wished dearly he could whip out a clever retort on the spot. True to form though, nothing came to mind. His irritation grew more pronounced as a result. This man always managed to get under his skin without even trying.

Sitting at the front of his shop, Gato lazily surveyed him from behind dark shades while rolling a pair of polished silver băoding balls around his palm. They chimed prettily in a way that might delude one into thinking there was nothing to fear here. Denbei knew better. Izanagi lived to make mischief. Tall and handsome with long coal-black hair he kept out of his face with a black headband instead of the topknot others wore, the silversmith had drawn many an eye over the years and was the source of several rumors. The park management had annual contracts with all the craftsmen. Depending on how popular their work proved they might be asked to return next year, or a new artisan was signed to try their luck. This meant you had some old hands with an established customer base alongside newcomers eager to start their careers in this admittedly unusual locale. Once you had been let go it was highly unlikely you would be asked to come back.

Izanagi was another story. According to testimony from those who had worked here since long before Suzuki's debut, this particular rascal was something like a fixture himself. For at least twelve years, since the park's establishment, he had been appearing off and on. Show up for a few weeks without any warning to replace the previous incumbent, sell his goods and woo the customers, then disappear for several months or even years at a time. None of the other artisans enjoyed this sort of recurrent favor. Speculation ran that he was related to someone high up in either the company food chain or the local government which leased them the land. No one knew who he was or where he came from. Like a ghost, he appeared and vanished without ever leaving a trace.

Only this time Gato seemed here to stay. He had been plying his trade with them for almost half a year now. It was very distressing. In addition, they were starting to get some complaints. Since Gato usually never stayed for very long these disputes tended to cause no big stir. His prolonged tenure, however, had made it necessary for someone to step in. So several of the park residents got together and decided to have a representative approach Izanagi with their complaints.

That turned out to be Mayor Wakahisa.

Even though Denbei didn't know the man well. Even though he was a junior member and had no real authority. And irregardless of the fact that he could be risking his job by approaching this obviously well-connected individual. Or maybe precisely because of that last point. The older members didn't want to risk being the ones to anger Izanagi's patron and get the boot as a result. Not so Suzuki Denbei. No, he could be sacrificed and a replacement found without any effort. Never mind the terrible inconvenience and awkward position this would put him in.

It was completely unfair. Yet nobody else came forward to take his place. Gato had been absent for a few days which mercifully meant there was no way Suzuki could confront him. But now he had reappeared, and so into the lion's den we must go.

Stopping before the cozy little shop, Denbei looked past its proprietor to admire the work for sale within. This, at least, required no defensive preparations. It was a true joy to contemplate such exquisite pieces of art. Say what you would about the man, but he certainly knew his business. Nothing on display could be called commonplace. There were necklaces and bracelets, rings, earrings, even silver studs all in mesmerizing designs. A whole section of the cases were reserved for small silver figures from fish and bears to dancing girls so well-cast they almost seemed to move. Certain broaches, flasks and boxes were especially eye-catching. Gato was a master of the Mokume-Gane technique, imparting patterns similar to wood-grain into his creations seemingly at will. Why someone of such burgeoning talent would consent to work in a relatively small operation like this was beyond him. He should be touring the world with his creations.

Then again, personality went a long way towards success as well. And Gato did not inspire trust in those around him for more than a few minutes. A sharp-toothed eel of a man. Who's to say 'Gato Izanagi' was even his real name? Certainly a pseudonym would raise no eyebrows in this job. But some level of openness was expected, and there remained next to nothing known for sure about him. Even the Osaka accent he affected might be fake.

"So what's up, Denji-kun?"

That nickname startled Suzuki out of his brief reverie. It was an appellation commonly attributed to those with his name. He hated it just for that reason, and Gato seemed to have picked up on this very quickly.

There was no sense wasting time. Might as well get the public lynching over with. "Gato-sempai," he began, making a conscious effort not to sound unfriendly or stern, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but some of your colleagues have asked me to speak to you in regards to certain incidents."

Izanagi didn't move. He seemed to be waiting for him to continue and was quite comfortable right where he was. The same could not be said for Denbei.

"You see…"

"What kinda 'incidents', Denji-kun?"

Gato's voice hadn't altered from its cheerful timbre. In spite of this Denbei felt a strong urge to just turn around and walk away before this turned ugly. Why was he even here? He didn't know this man at all. Whenever you tried to talk to him about his past or anything to do with his personal life, you found yourself being redirected into your own or something completely unrelated to the previous topic. According to Gato there had been a famous Japanese silver craftsman whose first name was Denbei. The silversmith had pointed that out to him when they first met. And that was just when he had asked to know Gato's name. It took him almost a minute after walking away to realize the smiling artisan had never answered him.

Truth be told, he was a little scared of this man.

"Well…" Some fresh surge of courage provided Denbei with the means to carry on. "That, for starters. You've been… accidentally… referring to several of the workers here by their real names, or nicknames. In front of the customers, I mean. That's against park rules. The stage names we choose are for our… privacy, I guess. So that people don't hassle us outside of the job. It's distracting, you see. We all want everyone to have fun here including the workers for…"

"Speakin' of which, I heard a joke the other day that reminded me of you. Lemme know if ya've heard this one: waddaya call an actor who can't remember his lines?"

Cut off midsentence, Denbei strove to collect himself. At last he gave up and said, "I don't know, what?"

"Waiter!" And Gato snapped his fingers as though summoning a menial.

There was silence for a bit while the creep just grinned at his own joke. Denbei started feeling very self-conscious now. It was like he had become supremely aware of everything that felt off about his body, from the itchiness in his armpits to the scalp strain from having his hair pulled into a topknot. This whole costume just felt hot and awkward where only seconds ago he hadn't noticed any of that. Striving to keep from scratching himself he tried again. "I don't want you to feel like I'm putting you on the spot, Gato-sempai, but…"

"See, it works the other way too. 'Waddaya call a waiter who can't remember his orders'? 'An actor'! Kinda like a palindrome. You ever heard of a palindrome before?"

To his surprise Denbei found he was rifling back through his high school education to answer that question. "It's… something spelled the way it sounds, right?"

"Nah, that's an onomatopoeia. These're all English terms, y'see. I got some books you can borrow if yer lookin' to brush up on that stuff. An actor's gotta have a good vocabulary in my opinion. Helps 'em understand the roles they play. You got a favorite play?"

"Well… there are a lot of good plays…"

"Mine's 'Madame Butterfly'."

It looked as though several of the other staff members were watching them surreptitiously. Get on with it! they seemed to urge him. Denbei squirmed like a beetle on its back under their accusing stares.

Gato didn't appear to notice any of this. He held the băoding balls up to his ear while he proceeded in a musing manner. Their sound was almost hypnotic. As they continued to chime softly Denbei saw not for the first time that there were two fingers missing on the silversmith's left hand.

His handicap seemed to concern Gato no more than the stares they were receiving. "The original play, I mean. Now that's art imitating life. Not like those hokey sob stories where it's all lovey-dovey at the end 'n everybody's gonna fly off happy into the sunset. I'm talking 'bout where she finally wakes up and realizes there ain't nobody coming back for her and the baby. So she makes the only decision she can: 'Die with honor, when you can no longer live with it'."

The tinkling sound of the hand bells continued. Reaching up, Gato lowered his shades slightly to peer over their top. His bright blue eyes sent a shiver up the actor's spine. But the ringing in his ears was so enchanting all he could do was stare dumbly at the silversmith.

"That line cracks me up every time."

The smile he now wore belonged to a shark, full of teeth and without a drop of humanity. For the first time Denbei noticed how many weapons were close to the silversmith's hands. Hammers, picks, metal styluses, and all kinds of blades.

Much to his surprise, he realized that Gato was about to kill him.

I know it. He'd really do it. Just kill me and keep right on talking so that nobody notices a thing. Everybody'll think it's part of our act. They won't know any different until it's too late. I've got to run. Or scream. Anything to break the spell he's casting.

Only I can't move.

The băoding balls played their easy tune, ringing to guide him across the Sanzu no Kawa. The River of Death was rushing over its banks. He could feel it lapping at his toes, and it made him cold. Their churning waves were another type of song.

Please. Play something else. I don't want to die.

As if in response to his prayers, Dolly Parton started singing 'If I Said You Have a Beautiful Body'.

The bells stopped. Denbei gave a shudder and almost collapsed right there. Sweating and chilled, he could do no more than gape. In front of him Gato Izanagi reached into his pocket and produced a cell phone that was singing this American country song. He flicked it open, then paused and looked over at the trembling actor. "Sorry, Denji-kun. I have to take this. Come on back some other time and we'll chat. Bye-bye, now!"

The right honorable Mayor Wakahisa blinked stupidly for a few seconds before he turned to trod away on shaking legs.

Gato leaned back against the side of his shop and pressed a button. The song cut off.

"Hello?"

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?"

The master artisan smiled charmingly at some passing tourists who cast odd looks his way. "I had to go out of town for a few days. Something important came up. Surely you must have felt it."

"NO! I DIDN'T!" The voice on the other line dropped in volume. "I've been… kinda off the radar for a bit."

That did not sound good. "Rangiku-u-u-u?" he demanded in a somewhat cross tone.

"Look, don't be mad. I had some trouble with my gigai and had to, well, burn it! But you can get me another one, right?"

"Of course," he muttered darkly. "I'll just stop by the gigai tree on my way home and pick one off the lowest branch. Heaven forbid you should actually suffer the consequences of your actions!"

"Didn't I tell you not to get mad?" She sighed tiredly. "Okay, I screwed up, I know it. But can you pretty please bring me a new gigai? I hate having to hang around down here, it's dark and lonely!"

Concern for her wellbeing erased any lingering indignation. "Where are you?"

When he heard her response, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, shut up already."

"No, no, I'm sorry," he chuckled, wiping away a tear of pure mirth. "Look, just hang tight and I'll be right over. It's not like I didn't anticipate this might happen eventually. It is you, after all."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Bye, sugar. Love you!"

The phone snapped shut before she could articulate her offended dignity. For a while the shop's owner simply sat there tapping idly on one knee with his damaged hand. At last a slow smile reached his lips. "Well, at least she didn't kill anybody this time."

Gin Ichimaru casually reached over and flipped his sign from 'Open' to 'Closed'. He then drew down the curtain and went in back to get changed for his trip.

---

Her time spent at the Shinigami Research and Development Bureau left Rukia feeling singularly exhausted. Being somewhat of a celebrity in those parts, she had been entertained by several of its top talent in the hopes of showcasing their proposals for future research. These efforts were often exaggerated and literally explosive. It made her feel like a harried mother whose numerous progeny all boasted genius intellects and an insatiable need to compete with each other for her attention.

Naturally this did not stop her from continuing to relay orders and intel pertaining to Heron Squad. Nor did her efforts overseeing Kon's situation prevent Rukia from attending to her duties as a Kuchiki. Such weak excuses were for those who did not care to accomplish something in the first place. She wanted no part of them.

You've done enough for one day, dear heart. What do you say we get some sleep?

In a bit. I want to check on my rabbits first.

Sode no Shirayuki did not protest. She enjoyed being able to play with their fluffy pets as much as her mistress. Rukia knew this, and was pleased to grant her zanpakutō some time in which to exercise herself in a non-martial capacity.

The grounds of Kuchiki Manor at night were lit by a few lamps. Not enough to distract you from the natural beauty of moonlight, but sufficient so that one need not fear stepping in a hole. Or being waylaid in the dark. It paid to be careful. In these changing times, resentment and hostility long subsumed might tend to bubble over in search of someone to blame. A clan responsible for much of the ongoing alterations in their world made for a very prominent target. Not all the nobles supported the dismantling of the Rukongai, after all. For this reason guards still patrolled the manor walls in groups day and night. Their silent presence served to add an extra layer of protection for her family living here. Rukia tried not to think that any such force would prove small deterrent to their truly dangerous enemies. Yet these guardsmen had been given the option to find new lives in the specially constructed locales being built for the residents of the Rukongai. They had opted to stay, affirming their oaths of allegiance to the Kuchiki. Maybe not all had elected to remain in vassalage. But those who did deserved her respect. The world changed. Convictions did not. That was something to be admired.

All the rabbits were asleep in their hutch on her approach. Their owner smiled as she crouched down to look at them. She reached in a finger to stroke their fur, delighting in the downy softness. They had been a surprise gift from her Nii-sama after the war. It was even more surprising to learn that Byakuya was so attuned to her mood that he could sense precisely what she needed. Something simple and heartwarming. Something alive and thriving.

Something to fill the void left by Yumichika Ayasegawa's passing.

His death ranked among the greatest tragedies she had ever faced. Since Rukia had not collapsed inwards with remorse, some might think she had not cared for the flamboyant fighter with the same intensity as she had Kaien Shiba. Not true. Her sorrow ran just as deep, if not more so.

Though it shamed her to admit it, Rukia had only known Lieutenant Shiba for a few years. Not decades as was the case with Yumichika. Both of them had cared for her when she needed the greatest help. After Kaien died she had wallowed in misery. The loss of Yumichika did not bring about this catastrophic crumbling of self. It couldn't. After all, he had done everything possible to make her self-confident. Thanks to that strange and mysterious man, Rukia was far stronger than she might ever have become on her own, strength Yumichika had spent decades drawing out of her. He had been her tutor, confidante, playmate, challenger, and surrogate brother figure through the most trying of years. With the exceptions of Byakuya and Ichigo, no one had changed Rukia's life for the better as much as him.

He died only a few yards away from her. While she lay sleeping.

There hadn't even been a chance to say goodbye. It was entirely because of Yumichika Ayasegawa's support that she even survived the war. Thanks to the gifts he bestowed upon her she was able to defeat Gin Ichimaru in single combat for possession of the King's Key. Unfortunately this victory, however personally fulfilling, was not to last for long. Following the opening of Nirvana, Rukia was rendered unconscious by a surprise attack from Kaname Tosen's shikai. Even worse, the rebel captain managed to incapacitate Commander-General Yamamoto in his bankai long enough for Aizen to destroy the old man's spiritual power forever. To her deepest regret Rukia remained knocked out while a desperate battle raged in which Unohana Retsu sacrificed herself to seal Aizen and his cohorts away in Nirvana forever.

She could hardly believe it upon waking that the war had ended while she slept. Worse than the realization that she had not been able to participate in this conflict was the knowledge of what it cost her. Rukia had almost wanted to strike her brother Byakuya when he confessed that her beloved Yumichika was killed in battle with one of Aizen's vasto lorde, which itself was subsequently annihilated thanks in part to her fallen friend's own selfless actions. It had seemed like a cruel joke on his part. But Byakuya Kuchiki would never jest, least of all concerning something so very personal. He was not a cruel man. And that was how she knew her loss was real.

Rukia could sometimes still feel the hole in her heart left by Kaien Shiba's passing. But with Yumichika, that emptiness did not exist. Almost like everything he had done for her, whether she knew it or not, rushed in to fill the void left by his demise. Someone so wonderful, so filled with life; their memory served to lift your spirits. As if the heart that Kaien had spoken upon passed into her immediately with Yumichika so that she need not suffer even a moment of desolation. He had shared his heart with her so thoroughly and unreservedly. Though knowing he was gone, and even crying over it at times, it honestly felt like Yumichika still remained alive inside her. She could not even feel ashamed at not being able to save him. Because she knew for a fact Yumichika would have been offended by any displays of grief. 'Tears are not beautiful, Rukia-chan! I won't permit you to shed a single one for my sake. I'll not have your cute little face marred by grief on my account. That would be even worse than dying.'

Rukia had lost people before. Her childhood friends. A sister she had never known, whose zanpakutō now held a place within her own soul. Kaien Shiba. All of them died before she could adequately express her appreciation for them. For some it would have taken years to properly convey that appreciation.

Or maybe seconds. A hug. A kiss. A word. Small things can mean so much, when they are the last you will ever get. Or give. Perhaps that was why Yumichika gave his own life to save Ichigo's. Because he figured out even before she did how much that young human meant to her. She wouldn't put it past him. He was an enigmatic soul. Beautifully so, of course.

A final perusal of the pens satisfied her that everything was well with her littlest family. She had over two dozen rabbits now, and was on her second generation. Byakuya would not be pleased if she let them build warrens on the grounds, and the groundskeepers would have no reason to thank her either. So after her growing brood reached a certain age she set them loose in the forests beyond the limits of the old rings. There they could exist in peace.

Having completed the inspection to her satisfaction, Rukia was about to head indoors when she noticed something. One of the hutch doors was inexplicably unlocked.

That had not been the case a few seconds ago.

When she looked up, there was a brown-skinned boy sitting across the way with one of her rabbits in his lap. He seemed absorbed in petting it.

"Sorry about that, Rukia-chan," a voice spoke before she could even think to question this occurrence. "He's been dying to play with them, but I told him not to until you got back."

Yoruichi Shihoin now stood beside her dressed in a skintight Stealth Forces uniform. She was watching the boy with a sort of amused affection. For her part Rukia had begun to wonder if she might have fallen asleep on her feet and dropped into a most unusual dream.

In that case Ichigo would be here minus his pants. Trust me, this is real.

At any other time, this unforeseen intrusion might have startled her terribly. But right now the weary lieutenant simply couldn't bring herself to muster that sort of energy. It was late, she happened to be quite tired, and it wouldn't do any good to panic. If nothing else, she knew Yoruichi. This enabled her to forego stammering any stupid questions and just slip into the scene without resistance like it was a warm bath. Maybe it was surrendering without a fight, but some battles weren't worth throwing yourself into. This level of perplexing oddity followed the lady of Shihoin around like a cat. You got used to it.

"Good evening, Yoruichi-sama," she spoke in an attempt to draw the other noblewoman's attention.

"Yo!" Her cheerful elder turned and gamely saluted with two fingers.

Rukia hesitated before bowing forward with all grace and propriety. While doing so she cast a searching glance in the direction of her other uninvited guest. For some reason he almost looked familiar. Considering the way he was dressed, this might be someone she had met from her days living on the streets. But that was a long time ago. Anyone from back then would be all grown up now. The kid was pointedly ignoring her in favor of the rabbit. Even though he must know this counted as trespassing at the least.

Tell him to stop petting our bunny! Little Kisuke is tired and needs his rest!

He's not hurting anyone. And anyway we shouldn't antagonize them. I'm already not looking forward to what this night has in store for us. Let's behave cordially.

While she was thinking this, Yoruichi leaned down and whispered in her ear, causing the tiny soul reaper to shiver. "Why don't we get out of sight where nobody can see us? Wouldn't want any of your guards to come to the wrong conclusion about what we're doing with their lady."

"Of course," Rukia rose and gestured back indoors. "Please come inside, I'll arrange for refreshments and a suitable…"

"Nuh-uh." A firm brown finger pressed her lips closed, forcing her into silence. Yoruichi had donned that smile she sometimes favored, the one that hungered for chaos like a cat craved cream. "Let's take our chat somewhere a bit more exclusive. Easier to avoid prying eyes and ears."

Several things happened at once then. Rukia found herself scooped into the crook of the bronzed ninja's arm to hang there like a limp kitten. Little Kisuke was removed from the nameless kid's clutches and deposited comfortably back with his siblings where he promptly fell asleep. Grass whispered underfoot, a flourishing eucalyptus bush was lifted to reveal a hole in the ground, and then they were all zipping down a flight of wooden stairs as the tunnel entrance closed soundlessly behind them.

A snap of a match, and light blossomed. Much to her surprise Lieutenant Kuchiki found herself not in a dirty pit or stone cavern, but a comfortable enclosure large enough to accommodate twenty people. There were paper walls and sliding doors that presumably led off elsewhere. Tatami mats shared space with richly woven carpets, all piled high with many plump cushions. A few tantobon tables held liquor bottles at their centers with cups arranged around them. It looked like everything was set for a friendly gathering underground.

Rukia found herself deposited on a cushion while her enigmatic callers seated themselves opposite. She gazed around perplexedly. "What is this place?"

Yoruichi waved a genial hand. "Oh, it's just an old Shinigami Women's Association hangout. One of several that are on the Kuchiki grounds, actually. It's a ways below ground, and there are dampeners to suppress any sound so that we can party hard as we like and nobody up top is the wiser. Gotta stay ahead of the boys, after all." She reached over to snag some cups and bottles, carefully pouring out drinks. "And before you ask, no, he isn't aware of them. So let's keep it that way." The playful polymorph leaned over to hand Rukia a cup. "Cheers."

"Ganbate," she responded almost mechanically. The saké smelled good, and to her surprise she found herself taking a careful sip. A little alcohol might be just the trick to keep her abreast of all the craziness going on. Considering things were getting weirder by the second, intoxication seemed a wise precaution.

Even the youth received a libation, though he seemed less inclined to try it than her. Once they were all settled in Yoruichi leaned back on her cushion and gave a sigh. "So," she began while swirling her drink. "I should start by apologizing for springing this on you at such a late hour, Rukia-chan. However I need to exercise discretion in who sees us together. You've been busy at the R&D Bureau 'til now and there wasn't an opportunity to meet before this. Time is of the essence."

Yoruichi drained her saucer in one gulp and smacked it down on the table. She then hoisted herself up, crossing her legs and placing both hands on her knees. In no time flat her face had transformed into something frighteningly serious, enough to make Rukia reconsider any previous notions she might have held regarding their meeting. "I have come to beseech your aid, Lady Kuchiki."

"How can I be of help?"

Automatic compliance. As if all thought of questioning or even opposition had been strangled insider her mouth. Just by the tone of this woman's voice. That was the truly unnerving realization. The guise of the irreverent prankster or teasing teacher had been purposefully discarded. What was revealed beneath left Rukia feeling humbled just to be in this woman's presence. Here was what she could only pretend to be; a person noble from birth, made almost divine by their choice of actions and sense of purpose. It was a perception her brother Byakuya exuded every day, so that she thought herself inured to it by now. Clearly she had been mistaken.

"For starters, Rukia-chan, whether you agree to help me or not, whatever goes on this night must not reach Byakuya's ears. He is to remain unaware of any arrangements between us. I know he is your brother and the head of your clan, so any act of subterfuge on your part might be considered treasonous under a strict interpretation of the hereditary bylaws. I cannot insist that you participate as a result, nor can I offer any assurances that you will not receive any blame for helping me." Yoruichi tilted her head upwards, golden eyes flashing like stars in the low lights. "What I can offer is my guarantee that what I ask in no way constitutes a betrayal of either Byakuya or Clan Kuchiki. I give you my solemn word as the Lady of Shihoin. Will you accept my trust?"

It was hard to imagine anyone with an ounce of self-respect being able to turn such a request down. Rukia felt like she was in one of those old myths where a god suddenly appears and bestows a divine mission on some chosen mortal.

Enough with the drooling adoration already. She doesn't need any more shrimpy stalkers, I'm sure.

Unless you have anything helpful to offer, I kindly request you zip your lip!

I'm just saying not to discount her. She's twice as good at manipulating people's confidences as Urahara. Don't take anything she says at face value.

That's much better. Thank you for the advice, Sode no Shirayuki.

S'what I'm here for.

Rukia came back to reply almost immediately with, "I accept, Lady Shihoin."

"Good." Here Yoruichi smiled. Not in a sly way, or humorous, or even sultry. This was something new. The way she looked right now conveyed a silent but completely clear 'Thank you'. There was honest gratitude in that expression, and what might even be relief. Her heart warmed at the sight, and Rukia had to consciously remember her zanpakutō's words. Yoruichi knew what she was doing. For the time being, it was her choice to go along with the elder noblewoman and take her at face value. But she would not blindly follow whatever might happen. Her family, her house, and perhaps even her life might be on the line here. Trust only went so far before you had to decide who was more important. Rukia felt much more confident about her position and ready to deal with anything.

Yoruichi sighed, and her queenly aura diminished slightly. "Okay, then. Now that the formalities have been settled, let's make some introductions." She gestured to where the boy sat watching them both closely. "Rukia-chan, I'd like you to meet my son, Noboru Kuchiki."

The cup fell from Rukia's hand and splattered its contents on the floor.

The Flash Goddess paid no attention to this as she continued. "Noboru, this is your aunt, Lady Rukia Kuchiki. She is the acting matriarch of the clan, second only to your father Byakuya in terms of authority. Her sister Hisana was Byakuya's wife and she was formally adopted as his own sibling following Lady Hisana's death."

Noboru turned his head to regard her. "Hello," was all he finally said.

A slight sound came from Rukia's open mouth. Nothing more.

This is not happening.

You bet it is! Oh, you bet it IS! I knew it! I told you, didn't I tell you? Byakuya's human after all! There's a man under all that icy formality, complete with blood and a penis to boot! How totally awesome is THIS?

No… no, it ISN'T! He can't be a father, he's… he's my Nii-sama! OUR Nii-sama! He's too young, he can't have a kid this age! They would have had to be… doing THAT when he was no taller than me! This is all some sick joke on her part!

Wow. You're really not taking this very well.

I AM TAKING EVERYTHING JUST FINE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!

Yeah, I can tell that.

Whatever! Just… let me get my bearings. Let me try and sort this out.

Agreed. Let's start by picturing Byakuya and Yoruichi both naked, going at it like crazy rabbits!

SHUT UP! THAT IS NOT HELPING!

On the contrary, I haven't laughed this much in… well, ever.

You keep quiet. I am going to deal with this. Oh, you can bet I am going to deal with this!

Come to think of it, this would make excellent ammunition for when he objects to you and Ichigo. Just casually go, "Oh, and one more thing, you got Yoruichi Shihoin pregnant while you were still in training pants. Nice going there, ace. We'll expect a very classy wedding gift from you, and the Kuchiki clan will happily foot the tab for our nuptials. Got that, stud?" Oh my goodness, I cannot stop laughing!

I'm telling him what you said.

Wait… you mean Byakuya? Are you kidding? You wouldn't!

Try me.

Nothing further came from the soul cutter's end. Satisfied, Rukia proceeded to engage in a little damage control in terms of her hold on reality.

"Lady Yoruichi," she managed to force out of a throat that felt painfully tight, "Am I… given to understand that you are telling me this… boy… is the son of my Ni… I mean, my brother Byakuya?"

"Yu-huh." The shapely specter nodded.

Rukia felt a most inappropriate urge to leap up and accuse the woman of lying through her teeth. There had to be some kind of mistake. This child was closer to her own age. He could not possibly be any relation to Byakuya Kuchiki. He must be a fake. An imposter!

As if sensing these condemning thoughts the recalcitrant reprobate lifted his head to regard her. Their eyes met. And then…

He scowled.

The shock Rukia experienced felt like someone had fired a shotgun blast of ice into her chest. It was such an incredible family resemblance; at that moment she could practically see her elder brother's features hanging superimposed over those of his son. His…

Oh my word.

"You are Nii-sama's child!" she whispered in surprise.

This declaration served to make him dreadfully uncomfortable, if the way he broke off their staring match was any indication. Noboru cast a pleading look at his mother as if beseeching her to lift whatever awkward onus had been placed upon him by the matter of his birth. In a way, this served to soften Rukia's opinion of him. A measure of inspiration told her that Noboru had not been aware of his parentage until very recently. She knew well how difficult it could be to suddenly find yourself a member of a prestigious house with no idea what might be expected of you. Everyone treating you like some kind of fragile and awkward instrument nobody knew quite how to play. It was a terrible burden, being thrown into a game whose rules were unexplained but whose penalties seemed to dog your every step. Rukia could not help but sympathize with what he would soon be going through.

For this reason, she did not hesitate a second longer in confirming her support.

"Noboru-kun," she stated kindly. His anxious features snapped back to her as if suspecting a trap in his own name. He is rather like a wild animal caught in a snare, actually. That simply won't do. The Kuchiki clan is not his enemy. Let's start with that.

"I am not your enemy," Rukia chose to inform him, pressing a hand to her heart. The uncertain way he blinked at her brought a smile to her face, and she continued in a much more hopeful vein. "Let me be the first of us to welcome you into the Kuchiki clan. I was granted the honor of becoming a member of that house some fifty years ago. It came as much of a surprise to me as you must have felt yourself. For the longest time it seemed like I was mistaken in ever accepting the offer to join this family. Even with all the comforts that came with it, there is nothing I would have wanted more than for someone to offer to be my friend and help me through it all right from the start."

So saying, she then held out her hand to him in the manner of mortals.

"I am your Aunt Rukia. Please let me be your friend, to assist you in finding your place among us."

From the corner of her eye she saw Yoruichi gazing admiringly at her with that same tender relief she briefly flashed before. Clearly the single parent had possessed her own doubts about how this meeting might go. At the very least she had earned the mother's approval. But what about the son's?

Before her Noboru peered through his veil of coal-black hair. He did not look particularly inclined to accept her offer at face value. It was slightly weird and oddly adorable how he looked like a young uncertain version of his father. Who knew such a miracle could ever exist?

Then he simply said, "Okay," and proceeded to clasp her hand in his.

With that, they were family.

Rukia felt another hand settle on her shoulder. She turned to find the Lady Shihoin smiling beside her. "Thank you," was all Yoruichi said.

A thought came to her. "Does this mean you and Nii-sama are going to get married?"

"Let's leave that for another time," the exotic death god adroitly sidestepped her query like a puddle in the road, ignoring the looks of anticipation she got from both of them. "I need to explain what happens next. As things stand, Noboru is in danger on several levels. I'd like you to look after him for me while I dispose of the ones responsible."

"Ah…" Rukia inclined her head back towards her new nephew. This was as sudden as everything else happening this evening. Might as well go with the flow. "Of course, I will arrange for quarters in the main household for…"

"Byakuya can't know about this, remember?"

That brought Rukia up short. What? She doesn't want him to know he has a son? At all? This caused a strange ache to form in her chest. The two women stared at one another for a while. "Then I will arrange for space in Heron Squad…"

Yoruichi shook her head.

"Oh. Then… the Halos are available while our new living planes are nearing completion, I can order he be granted…"

Another shake of the head.

Rukia was fast running out of options available to her. A sneaking suspicion began to creep out of the depths of her brain. Could it be…? No, that's impossible. Wishful thinking on my part. She couldn't possibly expect me to…

"I want for you to take him to live with you in the mortal realm, Rukia-chan."

… do exactly as I thought.

"E… excuse me?" Rukia had to fight to maintain control of herself. Not because she was terribly surprised to learn about this, but owing to the fact that she needed to maintain the appearance of impartiality. That was rather difficult considering a certain part of her soul was cheering and doing cartwheels. An excuse! A real, honest-to-goodness totally legitimate excuse! I've got it after all this time! And not just for a few hours but for… however long this takes! I'm IN!

Outwardly, she heard herself saying, "I'm afraid that would be impossible, Yoruichi-sama."

What? No, don't say that, you traitor! Unfortunately the dutiful Lieutenant Kuchiki ignored plain old Rukia and proceeded on.

"I have no time or means at my disposal to assume an identity in the material world again. To leave Soul Society for any extended period would constitute abandonment of my duties. I am a lieutenant now, and I deeply value that responsibility. There are many who depend on me. I remain the designated liaison for the Research and Development Bureau. In addition a management position of the first Heavenly Education and Relocation Oasis has been granted to me. I must also attend to my position in the Kuchiki household so as to lessen the burden Nii-sama labors under."

"Let me lay all your concerns to rest, Rukia-chan." Yoruichi held up four fingers. "Let's go in reverse order. For starters, you've already accepted a petition from the head of another noble household, which thoroughly binds you to carry out that obligation. Doing otherwise would only bring shame upon the Kuchiki. And you can still perform most of your household duties in absentia."

She began to tick a finger for every point she made.

"Secondly, I've arranged for you to be moved down the list of management heads for the Halos. You're set to take over the fifth one once it's completed. If and when that actually happens."

Rukia frowned a little upon hearing that.

"Third, Urahara Kisuke is officially assuming command of Ibis Company and the Shinigami Research and Development Bureau. You're off the hook from that forever."

A shiver went up her spine. Better get Kon out of there quick, she thought secretly.

"And lastly, I've asked Captain Kotetsu to strip you of your rank as lieutenant. She agreed."

Say WHAT? Rukia's eyes flew wide. A very nasty and painful kidō spell flashed through her mind.

"Just kidding, sweetie." The svelte shape-shifter snickered in a very immature fashion. "Wow, you should have seen the look you gave me. Raised the hackles on my neck, let me tell you! But seriously, all kidding aside, you're still the Second Seat of Heron Squad. However Isane and I discussed it, and we feel that with shinigami personnel resources still stretched thin between Soul Society and Earth, it behooves us to keep at least one top-ranking officer in an established earthbound scouting position. This person would then be able to immediately react should any Hollow far beyond the norm crop up. So you'll still be able to lead your division in the field if it becomes necessary. Plus a certain retired acquaintance of ours who is well-versed in handling the paper side of the job has agreed to lend you their assistance in keeping up with the load."

Yoruichi scooted in closer until they were practically nose to nose. "Believe me, I've thought this through. You've both got special gigai waiting for you along with a very convincing cover story. Everyone will blend right in, and you'll have all the help you need. How can you possibly turn down such an offer?"

When she looked away, uncertain how to respond to all this, the part-time feline placed a finger beneath Rukia's jaw and tilted her head up slightly. Hesitant purple eyes met very self-assured golden ones. "And more importantly, why would you want to? You've both been waiting for this chance. He still needs your help, after all."

Noboru furrowed his brow at this, clearly curious as to what she might mean. Rukia, however, had not a trace of doubt what that devious woman was insinuating. The image of a sour-faced teenager with orange hair flashed unbidden into her thoughts. She had been trying not to spend too much time thinking about him ever since the run-in with Kon. And she had been rather proud of how admirably she succeeded in that. Now it seemed as if her victorious resolve was all for naught. They were practically being shoved back together again. Without any consideration for their own plans whatsoever.

You never had a plan to get back with him, remember? At least none that would have worked.

That's true. Maybe this could even be considered a reward?

Sounds like divine provenance to me.

No. We both know that's a lie. This is just more scheming from those around me. I don't even understand what's really going on here. It's all been decided beforehand, though. I can't get out. And the sad truth is, I don't want to.

Rukia?

Yes?

WWYD?

She considered this.

Right. Thanks.

My pleasure.

"Yoruichi-sama," Rukia stated gravely while still staring into her eyes. "I admire you a great deal, but this is a very unfair thing you are doing to me. Naturally I intend to accept. However I will undertake this task only if you agree to allow me to exercise my own good judgment as to how we might best proceed from here on out. I will protect and look after your son. What I will not do is be a trusting pawn in whatever fresh vendetta you are bent on. You trusted me, and I will not betray you. Instead I want a chance to prove the merit of that trust. It's the only way I can be certain we all remain safe. Will you let me?"

Her royal counterpart cocked her head to study the determined little death god. "Listen to you. All formal and stoic. Like you're not bouncing up and down inside with excitement. I know what it's like to be young and in love, little sister. And believe me, I'd rather die than see you kids come to any harm." She then leaned in and placed a quick kiss on Rukia's cheek, causing the tiny spirit to lose that air of sophisticated austerity by blushing furiously. Yoruichi grinned upon seeing this. "You're a fantastic shinigami, and a beautiful person. That's why I picked you. Because I knew you wouldn't let me down. All right. I'll let you run the show on your own."

While a flustered Rukia was still trying to regain her composure, Yoruichi stood up and walked behind her. There came a faint growl laden with magic. Moments later a small black cat came padding around the other side of the dainty lieutenant's body. It looked up at them and spoke in a rough masculine voice. "We can discuss the details later. I'm going to take care of a few small matters. You two get to know one another while I'm out."

The were-cat sprang over to land on her son's shoulder. She licked his cheek, causing him to flinch in youthful embarrassment. "Be polite to your aunt," Yoruichi meowed. "She's earned it."

He squirmed but eventually nodded back. The black cat slid down and padded swiftly along the way they came. They watched her go before turning to face one another.

"So," Rukia said at last. "Is there anything you would like to ask me, Noboru-kun?"

He shrugged. "I dunno." Then the boy brightened a little. "Wait… can you show me what my father looks like?"

A peculiar gleam came into her eyes, and without hesitation Rukia produced a small drawing pad and a marker from inside her robe. "I would be glad to!"

Slinking away, Yoruichi glanced back to see her son leaning forward while Rukia engaged in enthusiastically scribbling on the floor. The ageless spymaster paused to enjoy the touching scene before proceeding on her way.

Upon reaching the stairs, she heard her Noboru's voice carrying faintly down the hallway.

"What is that, a porcupine?"

There then came the sound of somebody being smacked, followed by an angry bout of shouting.

Yoruichi smiled to herself. Yes, this is indeed going to be fun.

---

The shutter clicked.

"This is me inspecting Komamura-dono's herb bed. Notice a heavy emphasis on thyme and fennel, which make excellent additions to ground meat dishes."

The shutter clicked.

"This is me approaching the house for work on the morning of the Hunt's first sighting. It snowed that day."

The shutter clicked.

"This is me punching somebody's face. I'm not sure who, we didn't exchange names."

The screen was filled by the image of a big beefy man boasting short Zaraki-like hair. The rest of his features were hard to make out owing to the dainty fist smashing directly into his nose. One visible eye looked ready to pop out of its socket, and several teeth were floating around outside his mouth. Almost like little moons orbiting a big ugly head, Isshin reflected.

"This is me with Captain Abarai. It almost looks like he is waving hello. Let's all wave back at Captain Abarai, now."

No one moved.

"You will wave at Captain Abarai, or we are starting over."

They all proceeded to do so in desultory fashion.

"Very good." After this the shutter clicked.

On and on it went. The slides were arranged in no particular order. For a fussy person like Nanao that might come as a surprise. Unless you noticed the cold calculating cruel part of her personality she tried to hide from the world. By discarding a chronological sequence, it left her viewers with no hope of guessing when this abominable anguish might actually come to an end. They could be halfway through or still on the first set.

"This is me with Karin addressing the Quincy Uryu Ishida. His clothes are well-tailored."

The shutter clicked. That noise was really starting to bother Isshin. Slumped dejectedly on the couch in his darkened living room, he and the other two were now paying for their lack of consideration in regards to Nanao. The Dragon Lady, as his children called her, was firmly in control of the rest of their afternoon. Had they been at this for three minutes, or half an hour? It was hard to tell. Every second seemed to drag by slowly. Very, very slowly. It was like the hands of the clock themselves were struggling to stay awake against this onslaught.

Slumped beside him, Shinji leaned in a little and whispered, "Where do you even get a slide projector nowadays?"

The doctor merely shrugged.

Clearly nettled, Hirako glanced warily over where Nanao was manning the equipment before asking, "And who was taking these pictures anyway? I don't recall seeing anybody with her. Did the R&D boys make hell butterflies with video recording features in the last century?"

"You're asking me?" he muttered back.

Ise whipped a baleful glare in their direction. Both men quickly clammed up and sat straight to pay close attention to the screen. Loafing in the recliner, Kisuke Urahara gave a mighty yawn without bothering to cover his mouth.

"And here…" Nanao reached over and rapped his hand with her long metal pointer. The affable genius swore and sucked his smarting knuckles with a hurt expression. Across the way Shinji snickered before receiving another scowl from their heartless taskmistress.

Amazing, Isshin thought. It's just like being back at the Academy.

C'mon, buddy! Turn that frown upside down! It's a beautiful day, two of your best friends are in town, and to top it off there's a cute girl close at hand. See if she'll pour us all some drinks and then offer her a snifter of sherry!

I don't think Nanao imbibes.

Any lieutenant of Kyoraku Shunsui must be able to hold their liquor, amigo. Now quit making excuses. I know how embarrassed my little master gets around girls-

QUIET! They'll hear you!

But you need to get right back on that horse, m'man! Just pretend she's your daughter; whip out some crazy exercises to impress her while rattling off whatever comes to mind. That'll show your masculinity and that you're not afraid to laugh at yourself! I'll bet you anything Nanao is as lonely as she looks. You've got a chance, buddy! So why don't you just take it?

Because I love life and detest pain, that's why.

She could go a long way towards easing that pain, brother.

Can we discuss this some other time? I think she's picking up our voices.

Rain check, sure, I read you loud and clear. Have some fun with your pals and then we'll see about getting you some action, you wild man!

The living weapon's presence faded. There were times Isshin felt annoyed by his partner's endlessly optimistic outlook on life.

"Here Captain Odelschvank is dancing with her fracción."

He immediately perked up at the sight of the delectable Neliel striking a pose in a very revealing outfit. Beside him Shinji wolf-whistled, earning him another death-look from Nanao which he gladly accepted. Urahara had laced his hands behind his head and flung out his legs while grinning like a fool. Rather than being pleased at their newfound attention, however, the scowling sorceress promptly cut off the projector. There were disappointed cries as the image of the F-cup cowgirl disappeared.

"The problem remains," Nanao Ise flicked on the lights before slowly pacing back to rejoin them. "There is nothing to indicate Nirvana has been unlocked. If Barragan Luisenbarn did indeed seal away the Hunt he would have required a tremendous amount of power to do it. And if the binding was forcibly broken, then we're dealing with someone who possesses equivalent strength to a vasto lorde."

Isshin crossed his arms and contemplated the ceiling. "Have we been complacent?" he wondered aloud. "I didn't think so. Really, what are the odds of some terrible new enemy we've never noticed before popping up out of the blue? It's more likely someone we already know about."

"I expect we're all thinking along the same lines, so I'm just going to say it." Shinji Hirako scanned the group with deceptively lazy eyes. "Does anybody know where Gin Ichimaru can be found?"

When no one responded, not even Urahara, the Vaizard leaned forward and laced his fingers beneath his chin. "It makes a whole lotta sense. He was Aizen's lieutenant, is steeped in the world of the Hollows, and lest we forget, one of the captains who was sent to confront the Wild Hunt on its last recorded appearance."

All cast speculative looks at Kisuke, who lifted free his trademark hat to scratch absently at shaggy blonde hair. "Believe me, I have given the matter prior thought. And as Shinji stated it definitely makes a good deal of sense. In an obvious, formulaic, cookie-cutter kind of way. You know, like when someone's trying to lead you around by the nose?"

"You'd know all about that," Isshin commented drily.

The platinum-eyed inventor merely doffed his hat without bothering to recognize the jab. "We certainly shouldn't rule Ichimaru out as a likely candidate. The man's devious as they get and about as trustworthy as a cobra. Even if he did provide us with support in the past, that doesn't preclude the possibility he's slithered into somebody else's camp who made him a better offer. I simply don't want us to focus all our efforts in one direction when the real threat is hiding behind us. Anyone else?"

They must be thinking along the same lines, Isshin reflected. Why else would nobody want to say it aloud? After all, there was a suspect almost as likely as Ichimaru. Yet no one spoke.

In the midst of this pregnant silence Shinji Hirako sat as the unofficial center of attention. The bob-haired rake didn't move in the slightest to recognize their unspoken concerns. He looked as calm as could be. Even when his mouth finally opened the words he spoke came out sounding completely relaxed.

"Grimmjow Jeaguerjaques."

Even Nanao seemed to hesitate at this point. She shared a meaningful look with both Isshin and Urahara before cautiously proceeding. "Grimmjow… last of Aizen's Espada that remains free. A very powerful arrancar who, according to the testimony of both Captains Abarai and Odelschvank, was under Barragan Luisenbarn's possession during the war. This could imply he might have been charged with locating the Hunt should his master fail to release them on his own. His whereabouts are currently… unknown."

"That's right." Their half-Hollow ally had fallen to inspecting his fingernails while lazing back on the couch. "As far as we can tell, he hasn't been spotted in Hueco Mundo since… well, you know."

He still can't say it, Isshin thought as he watched his associate closely. The Sexta Espada had indeed disappeared into the depths of Hueco Mundo after he and his pack murdered Hachigen Ushōda. He recalled receiving reports about how the Masked Army had reacted to the loss of one of their own. For a time there they had been engulfed by their dark sides and simply slaughtered any Hollow unlucky enough to cross their path. Things only calmed down after there was nothing in a given area left for them to kill. He could understand their grief. The gentle giant had been his own squad's lieutenant back when the Kidō Corps was captained by Tessai Tsukabishi. A formidable wizard in his own right, Hachigen had commanded respect and even admiration amongst their ranks. Which was highly remarkable in and of itself. Sorcerers were famously antisocial, after all. Another benefit Isshin had enjoyed about the profession. There were rare exceptions, Unohana Retsu ranking at the top of the list (and look what became of her). But Hachigen's helpful considerate nature served to win over even those long used to being outcasts.

Which was not to say everyone jumped on the jolly bandwagon. In spite of being their company's Fifth seat at the time, Isshin had never met the Second seat prior to his departure, which was a testimony to just how secretive that reclusive enclave could be. Even their own officers didn't pry into each other's affairs that often. Sometimes you didn't know who the officers were. None of them had been all that big on rules and regulations to begin with, which was what made the Kidō Corps a perfect fit.

"We only caught the tail end of his scent." Isshin pulled himself out of his reverie as Shinji continued to report. The unusually somber Vaizard was rubbing his thumb and index finger together in a curious manner. "A goodly portion of his new pack fell to us but none of them were… up to talking once we finished with them. By the time we were done venting he had completely disappeared. Rose and Love are of the opinion that he retreated into the dead zone of Hueco Mundo to escape us. If Grimmjow stumbled across the Wild Hunt while on the run, he might have seen it as an opportunity to replenish the packmates already lost."

Nanao stroked her chin in deliberation. "This could be his first step towards establishing his own hierarchy. A new Espada."

"Without the hōgyoku I don't see that happening," Urahara spoke up. "As our resident expert, I can testify that a Hollow who undergoes mask removal without the aid of the hōgyoku would only achieve a relatively small increase in power. Not worth the time now that Aizen's gone."

A sense impinged on Isshin's perceptions. Whoops, time's up. He hurriedly stood. "Well, there's no use engaging in idle speculation at this point. I recommend we all retreat to our respective lairs and formulate means of locating the prime suspects in order to whittle them down. I'm afraid that's all we have time for today anyway. My kids are coming back."

"Is it that late already?" Kisuke frowned and once more studied his pocketwatch. "I really would get this thing replaced, only it's an authentic Belasco timepiece! He used to break one regularly and then claim it had been his mother's. You know, to motivate his actors to perform once they saw how distraught he was. Afterwards he just bought a new one. They command a high price on eBay."

None of them dared to mention they could have accomplished a lot more were it not for Nanao's little slideshow. Hirako sighed heavily before springing upright. He moved out to the hall in order to retrieve his shoes and coat. "I'll tell the others to be on the lookout," he called while slipping on some utterly tacky white loafers. "We'll try to flush out any rats from our end. You geniuses just be prepared to deal with the fallout when we do." He waved goodbye over his shoulder, then opened the front door and plodded away without another word.

"Say hi to the kids for me!" Urahara sang sweetly. He picked up his cane and gave an exaggerated bow before slipping out the back.

Nanao turned to regard her employer. "I'll prepare some refreshments for the children. After which it will be time for Ichigo's training."

Isshin turned back to her. "How is my son doing anyway?"

The master enchantress pointedly avoided his eyes as she turned to begin disassembling her slide setup. "Judging by his performance, I would never have guessed the two of you were related."

He crossed his arms with a sigh. "That's what I thought you'd say."

---

The Hollow turned its head slowly from side to side, cracking its neck as though relieving a cramp. It licked its black teeth and shivered in a way that was completely vile. What's worse, it seemed to notice this effect. The heartless creature then swiveled lazily to face the figure standing beside it.

'Still think you know what you're doing?' the beast murmured in that eerily familiar voice which made its listener's spine stiffen. This caused the Hollow to smirk. 'That's pitiful. You're scared shitless now. What? Afraid I'm gonna take a bite out of your rich little ass?'

"Spare me your attitude," the observer replied in a voice similar to the beast's. Wrapped in a full-form robe that hid any identifying characteristics, this individual remained motionless in the face of a screaming hurricane that raged before them. "The only reason you can even be here now is thanks to me. Unless you've suddenly gained the strength to overcome Ichigo all on your own?"

The Hollow only chuckled in response, but did not continue. Instead it just laced both hands behind its spiky white hair and smirked. Every now and then it shivered as though cold. Or excited. There was no way to tell. Asking was out of the question.

They stood together before what looked to be a wall of raw wind and sand that stretched high into the starless sky. A full moon so huge it could have engulfed the old citadel of Las Noches hung just above the horizon. Otherwise there was nothing else in sight. This close to the dead zone of Hueco Mundo, hardly any landscape remained. The unrestrained chaos at the heart of this domain seemed to reach beyond its visible boundaries to repel anything that existed, even identifying landmarks. Only sheer force of will allowed them to approach the hurricane. You actually had to get lost to find your way here. Like a maze without walls. And this juggernaut of a sandstorm was the minotaur that lurked at the center waiting in bloody baited anticipation for anyone to come too close.

I can't let him know how afraid I really am.

Then let me address him, hmm?

Stay down. I can handle this.

No use pretending. This bastard knows you fear him. Ever since we first faced off during Ichigo's training. He can scent it as well as I can. In fact, that's the only reason he's cooperating with us.

Just let me work.

He's frightened too. Use that.

All right. I will. Now be quiet.

Oh, as you command, Your Highness.

With this inner dialogue resolved, the observer spoke in a controlled manner. "Our deal still stands. I'll help you get what you want in exchange for your cooperation. When it's done there won't be anything left for you to fear."

The Hollow turned a look of pure insane glee in their direction. "What have I got to be afraid of?"

"The same thing we all fear. Forgiveness."

It looked uncertain for just a moment before letting out a snort of laughter. "Damn, but you're a sweet-talker! Right from when we first met I thought how much fun it'd be to eat your face."

A sense of confidence came in spite of recognizing the full force of this threat. He's not so sure of himself now. I have the upper hand. Need to keep it that way or he'll grow even more troublesome. "This newfound freedom you're enjoying wouldn't last a second beyond my death. Then you'd be right back where I found you, squatting in the depths of Kurosaki's soul, waiting for him to figure out what he needed to end your life for good."

The edge of casual indifference in those words appeared to incense the creature, but it still made no move to attack. Even monsters like this had some measure of restraint when it came to their own self-preservation. Time to drive the truth home deeper. "You've been of great help to me. But don't assume you have any control in this relationship. I make the rules. With the Wild Hunt now under my command, I expect a greater degree of cooperation on your part. Unless you want to wind up as their next meal."

That might have been overplaying their hand. This only became obvious after the words were spoken. To make matters worse, any previous insecurity on the Hollow's part was no longer evident. When it chuckled next, it was the most disturbingly self-satisfied sound one could ever imagine.

"And here you couldn't have even broken them out if it weren't for me. Seems everybody thinks I'm just a grunt they can order around when it pleases 'em. No big deal, Ichigo acts the same way. My sword's at his disposal almost like it is for you." A very unwholesome twist of the lips exposed those midnight teeth even further. It almost seemed to drool at its next statement. "Except in the king's place, there's no deep dark secret I can hold over his head to get any sort of leverage."

The hurricane continued its endless rampage against earth and sky uninterrupted by spoken words.

He knows, my liege.

SHUT UP!

"That's right," the Hollow sang as though aware of their conversation. It strolled forward a few paces until it stood before the dead zone's barrier. One white hand reached up to stroke that almost solid surface of natural destruction. Fingertips trailed over it, and black blood flowed. The Hollow then pushed its arm in up to the elbow. The onlooker winced in commiseration. "Your friends the Vaizard would be real disappointed if I let slip that it wasn't Grimmjow who killed their fat friend." He rounded on them, removing his arm. The sleeve of his coat was gone, and streaks of black blood drew all along that bone-white skin to form what looked like spiderwebs. "It was you."

Kill him.

Don't you dare order me.

Him or us. Do it now, before he can reveal our secret!

No.

They'll turn on you if they ever find out, you know. Chop off your head and hold it up by the hair. Feed your bleeding corpse to lesser Hollows. The witch lied to us, she's never going to return! We have to fend for ourselves the best way we c…

Flee.

Held in that one word was power greater than either of them were capable of expressing whether joined together or not. It held the reverberations of a sorceress unmatched in any dimension, whose power existed even in a mere echo of the enchantments she had spoken long past that first subjugated this dark fragment of a soul. The inner Hollow was picked up in an angry snarling rush of wind that carried it away to the deepest depths of their shared dwelling. Its presence faded in response until only the rightful ruler of that soul remained in forced seclusion.

"Was it getting a bit too crowded for you in there?"

Now feeling much more secure, the lone Vaizard turned on Ichigo Kurosaki's Hollow. "You should go back to him. I don't want to run the risk of something important happening when you aren't present. We need to stay aware of any developments in our enemies."

"Look who's the big fucking mastermind," the Hollow breathed, tucking both hands into its pant pockets while strolling forward. "Trying to fill your master's shoes. Too bad you're all he has left to work with, huh? Not much in terms of material if you ask me."

The seeming teenager stopped a few paces off when the point of a bared zanpakutō came up to tickle its throat. White eyebrows rose on its face in a teasing manner. That was the Hollow's only reaction. It had no sword of its own to threaten with now. Ichigo's current mastery prevented the monstrosity from manifesting that level of opposition. All the same, being unarmed hardly lessened the threat it posed. Even a bared soul cutter somehow seemed ineffectual when pitted against that all-powerful freak slouching casually with bare feet buried in the sand.

Anger rose to the fore, and the wielder of that sword spoke without regard for whatever might come next. "Let's be clear about one thing, animal. I'm not particularly concerned about losing you. I made it this far all on my own, but I need strong allies if I'm going to win. And I dearly need for my side to win." A small mean smile then shone from within the depths of that hood. "But somehow, even with everything I have to lose as a result, part of me honestly looks forward to the day when Ichigo finally, mercifully…" special emphasis was placed on this word that the Hollow didn't miss, judging by how its eyes narrowed, "… kills you."

The Hollow tilted its head up slightly. "Go home," it whispered, "and pray I don't decide to rat your sorry ass out."

So saying, it faded away, leaving the Vaizard alone in that desert. The dead zone continued to twist and thrash in all its frenzied glory. The sole observer to all this made no move to leave, anticipation and doubt building with every moment.

An enormous foot thrust through the sandstorm and slammed into the dunes before them to send white sands cascading up like a cataract.

They let out a satisfied breath of satisfaction. "Cernunnos," the watcher greeted its returning servant.

The rest of that ancient entity emerged slowly into view. Upon finally pulling free of the dead zone the Hunt Master reared hundreds of feet overhead. Cernunnos was naked in the manner of all wild things. While every Hollow held a certain bestial element, this seemed to be magnified in the leader of the Hunt. It boasted the clawed legs of a lizard that tucked in under themselves as it squatted down on the ground. The torso resembled some type of primate, most of whose hair had fallen out perhaps owing to disease. A great hole caved in the chest between stomach and pectorals. It leaned forward on long ropy arms corded in muscle. Huge knuckles sank into the desert for support, lending it even further resemblance to a gorilla. The reptilian scales of this horror were dull black in a way that almost made them appear to have no substance at all. In contrast the pitted skin of its body was a ghostly white that glowed under the moonlight. Great brutish fingers twitched in aimless flickering.

Perched at the very heights of this weird assemblage was its enormous mask, so big it hardly fit on its shoulders and had to be anchored there by bone plates. The skull was reminiscent of a bull with its mouth perpetually open owing to canines like great walrus tusks. But in place of the horns that would normally be seen on such an animal there instead sprouted a vast branching network of stag antlers. These wicked points were so numerous they almost seemed to weigh its head down. From the base of its skull there grew a shaggy mane falling in a long tangled carpet of hair that resembled hundreds of pelts grown together. This furred collar stank fiercely, lending even further inclination to believe it was composed from the skins of Cernunnos' victims.

A new noise accompanied this creature. Mingled with the ceaseless howl of the storm there was something like the baying of a thousand hounds. If you looked closely, you could discern shadows wavering in the depths of the dead zone, perhaps drawing closer. The watching shinigami hybrid observed all this, and spoke.

"You failed."

Enormous yellow eyes opened like lamps in sockets the size of swimming pools. Cernunnos slowly lowered its head further to focus on the speaker. No sound came from that frozen mask of bone. Not a word, not even a growl. The Master of the Wild Hunt simply waited patiently.

The Vaizard met its gaze, then turned away. "It doesn't matter. I am still satisfied with your potential. We'll continue to cooperate for the time being."

At this the cloaked figure set off across the desert towards home.

Cernunnos remained in its spot for a while before it too broke away and loped in a different direction. In its wake, over a hundred devolved Menos burst from the dead zone and went howling across the landscape. This wave of chaos engulfed Cernunnos so that mindless horrors sprang and scrabbled to each side of it. The Hunt Master paid its followers no heed. It ambled purposefully along into the occupied regions of Hueco Mundo.

Where they all could feed.

---

Waves swept against the shore, their sound reminding him of a snake slithering over stones. Gin had parked himself on an outcropping of rock jutting into the ocean to wait. His clothes were damp from seaspray and there was a distinct chance he might need to change his socks. The inconveniences inherent to a physical form almost made him glad his time as a mortal had been short-lived. Then again, dying hardly solved all one's problems. Better off dead, better off alive; who's to say what constituted a more favorable method of existence? Maybe most folks shouldn't even be born at all.

The phone in his pocket beeped. He withdrew it quickly to confirm she was drawing closer. By his feet there rested a lengthy object inside, quite appropriately, a body bag. There had been no witnesses to his procuring this long-held keepsake. The bother of transporting it here without anyone being the wiser far exceeded the inconvenience of having kept such a useful item in the first place. In their position, it paid to have as many cards in your hand as you could manage.

While he was busily inspecting the turbulent horizon, his phone rang. Gin promptly answered.

"I'm here. Where are you?"

"How should I know? Everything feels the same!"

He resisted the urge to sigh. "Look, I know you've been down there for a few days, and it's easy to get turned around in the ocean. But unless you want me to chuck this gigai in to bob along like a lifebuoy, you'll make an effort to get up here."

"You angel! I knew you wouldn't let me down! I'll be right there."

An amused chuckle escaped his throat even as the connection terminated. For a time he simply waited. The tide continued to collide against his readout, churning the waves into foam. Ichimaru observed this natural savagery with eagerness for what came next.

His patience was soon rewarded, as from out of the whipped breakers there emerged a shining golden head.

"Ah, here comes my Venus!"

Blue eyes flashed their pique in his direction. "Hardy-har-har."

"Would you rather be my Madonna of the Rocks?" the kitsune exposed his teeth winningly.

"Want me to drown you, dammit?" Matsumoto glared daggers his way. Gin simply chortled as she slipped gracefully through the bag containing her gigai. Seconds later there came a rustling. He waited in childish anticipation for what must come next.

Eventually a muffled voice spoke. "Gin?"

"Yes, my fulsome darling?" he sang.

"Unzip this thing already!"

"Your wish is my command." He then bent down and proceeded to do so. As the bag opened, Gin couldn't help relishing the sight of a naked Matsumoto Rangiku lounging inside its depths. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. Of course such poetic inclinations were nothing compared to the rock-hard desire at seeing her like this. Every movement she made seemed to accentuate the appeal of her glorious body. When she looked up at him with her tropical blue eyes crossly, he couldn't help himself. Bending down Gin curled an arm around her midsection and kissed her passionately.

She didn't waste time returning his affection. Her arms wrapped around his neck, a delighted moan issuing from her throat. He was just about to lift her completely free when Rangiku yanked him down. Surprised, Gin pulled back and nearly lost his self control at the seductive smile she sported. "Why don't you join me in here?" the matchless female purred. "I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be zipped up inside a body bag with right now."

"Then how would we get out?" he murmured. Not because he truly opposed the idea, but for an excuse not to fall victim to her charms again before asking some questions. "More importantly, why did you need me to come all the way out here?"

"If you had told me where it was in the first place, I wouldn't have had to bother you," she smiled, contentedly rubbing her fingers through his long dyed hair. "Hiding in the ocean was the only way to mask my spirit signature until you got back."

Her touch on his skin sent jolts of pleasure rattling up Ichimaru's spine in the most delicious display of weakness imaginable. In their current situation, it was almost impossible to be so close to the woman of his dreams and not engage in lovemaking. They had been denied one another for too long up 'til now. But his anxieties were long-ingrained. They had kept him alive, kept them both safe. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted so easily. And yet neither could he forego the ecstasy of rubbing his hands across her flawless torso. Gin swept his long fingers over those enormous breasts, cupping her nipples and grinning when she gasped in response. He took the opportunity to admire her before proceeding with his questioning. "How many did you find before they caught you?"

"Seven." She fairly glowed now, teasing and seductive and wanting to be played with. It was unfair but he hardly cared. There was no way he would underestimate her by thinking she couldn't look sexy and know her business all at once. "Most from Ichigo's class. Three girls and two boys. The teacher too. I was starting with them, but then I noticed several of the little buggers flapping around the Kurosaki house. Way more than for any of the others. I got worried that it might be dangerous for the kid, so I went after Karin in a hurry." Rangiku hugged him closer with a groan that spoke of a restrained longing equal to his own. "First the Hunt showed up out of nowhere, then Nanao got in the way. That woman has absolutely no forgiveness in her. I can't understand how she could treat me so awfully!" The dazzling blonde nuzzled against his neck, pouting. "I almost died."

He grinned while kissing her shoulder tenderly. "Well, you did murder a bunch of people."

"Oh, don't start that again. If you hadn't wanted me to kill, you shouldn't have told me about them! What did you expect me to do, anyway? Run off and tell a captain? Screw that!"

"Maybe I was hoping for a little more discretion on your part," Gin countered, now thoroughly tangled up with her. "When I told you the identities of all the people Aizen had turned to his side throughout the years, I certainly didn't expect you to round them all up and butcher them! If I'd thought they were truly dangerous I would have killed them myself."

"Maybe I just meant to talk at first." Rangiku turned her head away, voice growing wistful. "But when I saw how many answered the secret call you showed me, well… I got pissed! There they all were, milling around waiting for their mighty Aizen to pop up and give them their orders. Then they'd go right back to masquerading like they were one of us. I couldn't stand the thought that those damn traitors might walk around with decent shinigami who blindly gave them their trust, all the while ready to stab the poor saps in the back immediately afterwards!"

He turned her face so she could look at him. Red eyes were not visible in her blue ones on account of the contact lenses he wore, but Gin wouldn't have cared either way. "I love you for caring about those idiots so much. But I wish you might have at least left a note explaining your actions before quitting! You must have known they would take it the wrong way and assume you were a traitor too."

Matsumoto snorted. "They never gave me enough credit anyway. I would have told my captain, by way of thanks for all he did for me, but I just lost interest! You can't blame me," and here she kissed the place where his missing fingers were in gentle longing. "I wanted to get back to you more than anything. What those hidebound goofs think doesn't matter. We know the truth."

"I suppose I'm flattered," he admitted when she broke away. "But if we want to find out who's behind this harvesting, it might behoove us to cooperate a little. Not that I'm thrilled at the idea."

"Most likely they're already blaming you for the Wild Hunt. It's just how they are." Matsumoto pointed this out before slumping back with a sigh. Golden hair spilled all around her head, and her nose wrinkled in annoyance. "You know, I just realized it's freaking cold out here. If we're not going to fuck, do you think I might borrow some clothes?"

Reaching out, Gin produced a bag of assorted clothing articles. "Versace label, my lady?"

Her eyes lit up before she grabbed his face for another toe-tingling kiss. After this he didn't want to restrain himself anymore. Gin proceeded to tear his clothes off while Rangiku whooped and eagerly helped him to undress.

So much for firm resolve, Gin.

Go piss on someone else's parade. I'm busy.

Have it your way, lover boy.

---

You're dragging your feet, Ichigo.

Maybe if I'm late enough she'll get bored and go home.

Doubtful. But rest assured she'll be twice as hard on you if you seem uninterested.

It's my only means of getting back at her, Jii-san.

To say that Ichigo had nothing to look forward to this evening was putting it mildly. The trip back home after kendō practice saw him in even lower spirits than usual. Knowing that he had only kidō training with Nanao in store for him made every step feel heavier than the last. Was it wrong to pray for a Hollow to pop up, thereby allowing him to skip their magical education in order to save the day?

No. Not under these circumstances.

Watch it.

Watch what?

*SMACK!*

Something hit him right in the face and clung there. Maybe it was the result of playing too many sci-fi video games with Tatsuki, but his first reaction was 'Face-hugger'! With a yell Ichigo snatched away the offending object and held it out at arm's length.

For just a second, he caught a glimpse of a colorful dark butterfly fluttering away before it disappeared.

Mystified, the teen looked at what he now clutched. It proved to be nothing more menacing than a sheet of white paper. A flier of some sorts. Before he could read it another fact dawned upon him. There were more of these scattered all around the street. They blew idly in the wind, settling against benches and collecting in drainage ditches. It looked like somebody had gone overboard in announcing their festival, sale, or whatever this turned out to be. The sight made him think of snow lingering over city streets. Maybe it was owing to this being the tail-end of winter.

Simply glad to have an excuse to malinger for a little while, he read what was printed on the page. The first thing he noticed were the cartoonish rabbit heads smiling up at him. In addition there was a drawing that looked like a house around which pranced several little animal characters. Or maybe they were meant to be people. Obviously the person behind this event decided to save some cash by getting their three-year-old to do the illustrations. He could have laughed at how poorly drawn these things were if not for past experience teaching him it was unwise to mock other's attempts at creativity. It only brought pain all around. Though truthfully if he inspected them closely they did look almost as bad as…

Hey.

Wait a second.

A sense of impending recognition almost caused him to miss the text that accompanied these pictures. He had barely finished reading when it slipped through his nerveless fingers. The flier fluttered to the ground, landing face up to reveal its advertisement for all to see.

* 'Urahara Shoten' Grand Reopening! Under NEW management! Now with NEW Name! Stop by the 'USAGI SHOTEN' for great deals! *

Ichigo took off running as fast as he possibly could.

His surroundings were accorded only enough consideration to prevent any accidents. Shortcuts were employed. Crowds were navigated. Fellow passersby were carefully avoided from crashing into. A few cars honked their horns at him, and some of those crossings might technically have counted as jaywalking. But aside from a few dirty looks that he hardly noticed, no one called him on it. The fliers were growing more numerous. They blew around him in the manner of a snowstorm that he had to fight through just to make any headway.

Not that they could have stopped him. Ichigo was a man on a mission, as any fool could see. And everywhere he went, those fliers kept coming, as if someone had left a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow.

No need, really. He knew where he was going; it was simply a matter of getting there in one piece.

There was a crowd in front of the dirt lot. People coming and going, some clutching their purchases while several children held tightly to balloons with smiling beady-eyed rabbits drawn on them. Ichigo stumbled to a halt, finally noticing the stitch in his side. Had he really run all the way here from school? Obviously yes. He was panting and sweating, no doubt looking quite suspicious if the wary glances he received from a few matronly ladies was any indication. Not even allowing himself enough time to catch his breath, the substitute shinigami slipped into the crowd, elbowing and jostling the other attendees in order to make his way towards the innocuous two-story building that was their shared destination.

"I'M NEVER SHOPPING HERE AGAIN, MAN!"

"NEVER SHOPLIFTING HERE AGAIN, YOU MEAN! HIT THE BRICKS, YOU SNOT-NOSED HOOLIGAN!"

Ichigo's ears pricked up.

"YOU GOT NOTHING ON ME, LARD-ASS!"

"LARD-ASS? OH, NOW YOU'VE DONE IT! MAKE WAY, GENTLEFOLK! THIS THIEF IS GOING TO BE TURNED OVER TO THE AUTHORITIES!"

The crowd before him parted as a big burly man sporting a bandana on his scalp and wearing a yellow robe and sandals came barging through. He held a shame-faced local kid by the collar of his shirt. The boy struggled in vain to free himself while his captor continued to thunder in a loud voice.

"NO DOUBT HE'LL LOSE A HAND FOR HIS WICKED WAYS, BUT WE WON'T LET THEM DO IT HERE! NOT IN FRONT OF OUR VALUED CUSTOMERS, NO SIR! AND…"

The loudmouthed employee left off his yelling and drew to a halt upon spotting the redheaded teen standing in stunned bewilderment before him.

"Oh, hey, Ichigo," Ganju Shiba said in a much more normal tone of voice.

"Hey."

On instinct, he then hauled off and socked the bigger man right in his jaw.

Ganju collapsed. The boy he held wriggled free and made a bid for freedom by disappearing into the crowd. While his former nemesis scrambled to a sitting position Ichigo knelt down beside him. He ignored the queer looks they were getting from the other customers. "Where's the boss?" he asked in a quiet voice still laden with menace.

"Bastard! I'll get you for this." Upon noting the expression on Ichigo's face, however, Ganju reconsidered any idea of continuing their rivalry at this time. Rubbing his sore cheek he grudgingly indicated over his shoulder. "She's inside, talking to that military officer who showed up."

"Thanks."

Feeling a great deal calmer now, Kurosaki stood and rejoined the press. He deftly maneuvered his way through the throng of shoppers until he came at last to the familiar doorway. Positioned by the entrance next to a ceramic statue of a smiling bunny in a farmer's hat was Ururu. The dour little brunette made eye contact briefly before quickly looking away. "Welcome to the Usagi Shoten, sir," she mumbled in a voice so soft he hardly heard her over the hubbub. "Please examine our wares. All in-stock items half-off today only, to celebrate our grand reopening."

A similar version of this greeting was repeated for everyone aiming to enter the establishment. Ichigo passed her by hoping to locate more familiar faces. There were plenty of candies, foodstuffs and department store items on sale. No sign of Jinta anywhere, though he did notice a brown-skinned boy with messy black hair carrying a box off through a sliding door marked 'Employees Only'. The kid cast him a scowling glance in passing that made Ichigo's flesh crawl for some reason.

This vague misgiving passed quickly. For at last he picked up on the only voice that mattered. Stealing over towards the exit the new kid had passed through, filled with trepidation and anticipation mingled together, the hopeful teen pretended to examine some wares on a shelf while he peeked around the doorframe.

His heart began to pound.

There she is.

Rukia Kuchiki stood before a stern middle-aged police officer. Dressed in a purple and blue kimono complete with sandals and jeweled pins stuck in her rich midnight hair, the sight of her was so utterly breathtaking it took him a few seconds to realize she was crying.

"Forgive me, good sir!" Rukia dabbed at her glistening cheeks with a white handkerchief. "It's simply that since the passing away of my parents I have been most grievous woeful! And now with my poor uncle fallen dreadfully ill and forced to convalesce in a seaside medical center, it is up to me to manage the family business! Such hardships do not make for an easy life, yet I am resolved to keep my loved ones from sinking into squalor and starvation. It is all I can do just to hang on in these times of turmoil. And now… to have learned that I have inadvertently broken the law in my youthful ignorance! Oh, woe is me!"

Rukia buried her face in her hands and began to sob. In her pretty classic attire the tiny dark-haired maiden looked to be the very picture of innocent distress. More than one of the customers regarded her with clear sympathy or scowled outright at the policeman responsible for provoking this sorrowful reaction. The lawman seemed aware of these accusing stares and was growing more flustered by the moment.

"Ah… I didn't mean to cause you any… further anxiety, jouchan," the beat cop rubbed the back of his neck in consternation. He fidgeted anxiously. "But you need permission to spread fliers around town. It disrupts traffic and…"

Her sobs only seemed to grow stronger at his awkward reassurances, wracking that small frame. Even knowing the truth it was all Ichigo could do to keep from getting a criminal record by assaulting that police officer right then and there. Fortunately he was spared this youthful indiscretion thanks to the other man's capitulation.

"Look, I think we can just let you off with a warning this time. But in the future I must insist you contact your local business bureau before engaging in promotional campaigns!"

"Thank you, sir," Rukia sniffed. She looked up at him with big shimmering eyes and smiled tremulously. "I am sorry to have inconvenienced an officer of the peace in his duties. Might I offer you a cup of tea by way of showing my appreciation for your generous diligence?"

"I wouldn't want to be an imposition, and I really should get back to my rounds."

"Oh, but I insist." The petite proprietress looked over her shoulder while still wearing that charming smile. "Would you kindly escort the good officer to the dining area?"

"Right away, Nee-s… er, I mean, Tensho." A tall lanky guy with a buzz-cut moved into view from one side. He seemed a bit familiar, but before Ichigo could get a good look at his profile the fellow had already gone to escort their guest towards the back of the shop.

Rukia moved to follow. As she did, though, she glanced over and caught sight of Ichigo watching them. His face turned red in the most absurdly childish way possible, like he had been found spying on her or something equally incorrect. I can't let her think that, I've got to say something!

Before he could leap to his own defense, Rukia tilted her head and smiled.

'Hello', she mouthed at him.

'Hey,' he managed back after a few seconds.

Her eyes drifted over to the departing pair, and her lips then formed the words, 'Later. Busy now.'

'Okay,' was his response. There was nothing more he could think to say at this time.

Rukia inclined her head at him gracefully. She then departed through the open door, pausing only to cast a small mischievous smile back in his direction before ducking under the flap and disappearing from sight.

Ichigo lingered in that spot staring after her for a while. Eventually, though, he decided it would be best to leave. Hanging around like this might make people suspicious of his intentions. And Ganju would probably be looking for payback. No sense making Rukia's first day any harder than it already is. So decided, the determined high-schooler made his way outside without any fanfare. He paused only to pat Ururu on the head, who blushed and seemed to forget her lines for a few seconds. Ichigo then ducked down to merge undetected with the departing crowd.

She's really back. For good this time, I can tell.

Wow.

The rest of the walk back home went in a daze. Everything just felt so good. And he meant everything, from the way train-crossing signals flashed to pigeons cooing as they pecked at scattered fliers in search of something to build their nests. It was all so incredibly awesome!

My life just turned around.

He made it to the clinic without any further mishaps, a happy smile on his face he barely even noticed. Ichigo opened the door humming to himself. He slipped off his dress shoes and donned some slippers before shambling into the kitchen. Yuzu was visiting a friend from class, he remembered, so it probably fell to him to whip up something to eat. Maybe eggs. That sounded good. Everything sounded good today.

As he was rummaging through the cupboard, Nanao Ise came walking in. She came to stand beside him and crossed her arms reproachfully.

"Do you have a good explanation for arriving late to your training, Kurosaki-san?"

Ichigo turned around to grin at her.

"Nope!"

He then picked up a carving knife and rammed it into Nanao's gut.

The bitch collapsed without a sound, blood pooling on the tiles beneath her body. Ichigo just stood there smiling down at the dying woman. A slight noise alerted him, and he picked up a heavy black wok before creeping over to stand beside the doorframe. Just like when he was in the store, he laughed to himself.

Isshin Kurosaki came racing around the corner. "WELCOME HO-!"

He swung the frying pan with all his strength, catching his father square in the chin. The sound of his neck snapping served to cut off whatever stupid greeting the dumb bastard had been about to give. Ichigo then stepped astride his fallen parent and began smashing his face with the heavy iron implement.

When the corpse had stopped twitching, the blood-stained teenager put the kitchen utensil back where he found it. He stepped over to the sink where he proceeded to wash the gore off. Drying his face with a towel, Ichigo placed it neatly back on the hook.

He then went upstairs. For Karin.

Ichigo jerked backwards with a strangled cry. The eggs he had been about to crack went soaring from his fingers to splatter against the ground. He stared down at them, trembling with horror. There was no blood. No bodies. Nothing at all. A dream. It was all…

Hello, King.

He staggered at the sound of that voice.

Did you miss me?

He did not respond. After a while the Hollow simply laughed before leaving him there.

Ichigo sat down at the kitchen table. He stared at his reflection in one of the pans hanging by a hook.

I'm not crying.

I know, Ichigo.

When he looked up, Zangetsu was hoving beside him. The sword spirit's eyes were covered by shades, but still…

Jii-san, are you crying?

The grim-faced older man turned his face away.

I'll be waiting inside. Find me when you are finished with Nanao. We have work to do.

His zanpakutō disappeared, and Ichigo rose up.

His previous hunger was gone. Now he wanted only to train at kidō, swordplay, anything. He needed to acquire power, become strong. So strong that no Hollow, whatever its origin, could take anyone away from him again.

I'm going to win, he swore silently, and went to find Nanao.

Arc 1: FIN