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.

8. The Harvest: A Common Foe

"Cernunnos rules the Wild Hunt. But more than this, he is the Hunt."

In the gardens of the Ukitake estate, three dethroned warrior gods of Seiretei conferred together. At this point Ukitake Jūshirō and Kyōraku Shunsui were willing to let Saijin Komamura have free rein of the conversation. Something unprecedented in their experience was unfolding here. The big ex-soldier did not look at them as he spoke. His gaze stayed riveted on his hands; at times it seemed as though he might be talking to himself. Occasionally he would pause as though hunting for the correct words. In that time his elders conversed silently in their own private way until the confession resumed.

"The force that animates its members, links them towards a common prey, and allows them to survive wounds that would destroy beings of far greater strength… all this flows from the bearer of the antlered crown. When he falls, the pack's strength dies with him, until a new ruler is selected, and the Hunt is reborn."

"I possess no recollection of who I was prior to joining the Hunt." Komamura's tone was subdued but powerful, and it cast a touch of foreboding on both his listeners' hearts. "Nor can I properly explain how or why I came to be Cernunnos. My sanity was long vanished under a tide of bestial bloodlust."

His head turned and he examined a family of quails poking about for seeds in the garden. Both men noticed how his ears twitched, and while no expression could be seen on that lupine face, the intensity with which his golden eyes watched those peaceful game birds bespoke of frightening urges kept below the surface. Like he might pounce on them at any moment and tear the poor things limb from limb.

"When I became the Hunt Master, that all changed."

Saijin went back to staring at his hands then. Jūshirō inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

"It is difficult for me to explain," the hulking beast-man rumbled quietly. "What remained of my mind… held no sense of individual self beyond the savage creature I had become. I was merely one more crazed spirit trapped in that form, ravaging one another along with any other prey we could find. All members of the Wild Hunt are mad, and Cernunnos is no exception. No measure of reason was restored to me upon assuming the crown. It was more as if… another mask, altogether different from that which hid my naked soul, had become my face, and so it was through this that I perceived the chase from then on."

He closed his eyes, that large frame seeming to sink in on itself like a slowly deflating balloon. "Or perhaps I simply became a mask that someone else could wear. My soul remained wild, raving and slavering for blood, succumbing to the primal call of hunger. Only now, the body acted in accordance with a higher purpose. This did not involve choice on my part. Cernunnos went where he pleased, and the rest of the Hunt followed. We pursued specific prey in the world of the living and beyond with a focus which had previously been unthinkable. But I did not choose to do so. It was as though I, the Lord of the Hunt, were naught but a ceremonial figurehead, observing all but determining nothing."

He took a long drink of tea then, like all this unaccustomed talking had left his mouth parched. Ukitake was about to seize this opportunity to ask a question, when a certain movement from Kyōraku caught his eye. 'Hold off,' it said plainly. 'Let him say everything he needs to. Then ask.' The white-haired wizard accepted his friend's judgement. Retrieving his own teacup, he sipped carefully and settled back to wait.

"At some point I was slain."

Komamura stood then and moved to stand by the edge of the gazebo. Resting his large hands on a balustrade he stared down into the depths of a small stream that rippled against the structure's supports. Whatever he saw there did not improve his mood.

"The fact that I came to Soul Society would indicate a shinigami was responsible for the end of my tenure as Cernunnos. Any other outcome would have resulted in the destruction of my soul. Again, I have no clear recollection of what happened. My current appearance…" and here his canine ears flattened, voice descending to a rumble. "It shocked me. There must have been a time that I could claim humanity; else why would I be here? Yet some of the animal Hollow taint remained. For this reason I am what you see before you today. And I am not alone."

For the first time since beginning his confession Saijin turned and looked directly at his audience. The two noblemen remained seated. It dawned on both that a certain measure of almost brazen pride had stolen over him unannounced. His muzzle lifted slightly, as though daring either of them to challenge his questionable heritage.

"There are other shinigami," Komamura continued when they made no comment, "whose outward appearance tells of a past as Hollows that can never be completely erased. For instance, the four Gate Guardians who stood steadfast at the cardinal entrances to the old Court of Pure Souls. They are my kindred, of that much I am certain. I have sought out many and conversed privately upon the subject. We tend to be chary of revealing too much about ourselves. Though back in the day I was ever loath to reveal my face and heritage at large, with them alone did I discard my mask, as a sign of honor to show that they could trust me. "

Ukitake considered. It was gratifying to note that for once Saijin allowed no trace of self-deprecation to flavor his words. On this he apparently felt not the slightest bit of shame. As a result Jūshirō's heart grew lighter in spite of everything that had come before this, and he listened to his comrade's next words with a measure of eagerness.

"We have no name for our condition. We simply are what we are. The extent varies, to the point where you might have to look closely to detect anything untoward in our makeup. A great number whose visage might be considered shocking found their way to the Research and Development Bureau, where Mayuri Kurotsuchi often offered employment for them, perhaps as a means of future investigation. Akon, the facility's vice-president for the past century, postulates we are the result of an incomplete konsō. For whatever reason, the soul burial did not proceed to its natural end, either because the shinigami died prior to finishing their work or the zanpakutō used did not belong to them and therefore was rendered unfit. He has done much personal research on this subject, as a proud member of our breed."

Komamura looked away then, though his body did not lose that heightened sense of worth. Now, however, the burning eyes had narrowed, and lips pulled back to reveal his fangs in a clear display of wrath.

"And for the longest time, I have suspected Ichimaru might be one of us as well."

"Gin?"

Jūshirō spoke without thinking. Even Shunsui looked surprised to learn this. Their subtle rapport offered no means of confirming such a suspicion, and so they resumed listening. Across from them, Saijin Komamura did not seem to notice the interruption. He remained absorbed in watching the white petals of an apple tree fall to the ground like snowflakes.

"It would explain much," he spoke with a soft snarl.

---

Captain Gin Ichimaru of the Third Division crouched beside the body of a human woman and waved a hand before the wide open unseeing eyes. "Anybody in there?"

Receiving no response, the captain clucked his tongue at the screaming expression stamped on that dead face. "Some mess, eh?" young Gin pondered as he stood, one hand on the hilt of his sword and that disturbing smirk never leaving its position on his lips. He then looked up at the other fighter floating against the night sky. "So where do ya think would be the best place to start, Komamura-taichou?"

Behind his concealing helm, the captain of squad Seven bared fangs at his partner's irreverence. "You will find no shortage of targets this evening, Ichimaru-taichou," the hulking division head responded without looking at him.

All around, the howls of the Wild Hunt proved his words.

Night lay heavy on this part of the globe. The mountains of northern Hokkaido rose against the horizon, encircled by forests and dotted with streams. A thick blanket of fresh-fallen snow covered all, muffling any natural sounds. This cold pristine landscape seemed to urge one to lie down and rest. While most mortals across the world lay abed, a few would never seek such tranquil respite again.

The woods were littered with the recently slain. Men, women, children; it made no difference. All had been violently set upon and slaughtered without mercy. There was little doubt as to the target of this bloodbath. The frozen corpses wore tell-tale white garb on which their blood stood out as luridly as the snowy ground, announcing them as Quincy. Their deaths must have come so swift and unexpected there had been no opportunity to call for help.

But this was the Hunt at work. And as such, Komamura had known when they were let off the leash.

He wasted no time informing Commander-General Yamamoto of this, taking the opportunity to request he be one of the two captains assigned to deal with it. His aged leader had asked for no explanation as to how he knew, merely gazed at the abeyant warrior on his knees before giving his consent with the briefest of nods. The squad Seven commander thanked his master gratefully before hurrying off to make the necessary preparations. Two divisions, including his own, were selected. There was no talk of limiter seals. Only a fool would consider sending a crippled captain to combat the Wild Hunt. Disrupting the planet's ether could not be taken into account when faced with a foe so absolutely horrific it already made all of nature scream.

Now fully half the Seventh Division stood poised for battle. With them came some of the mightiest fighters of the Third, led by Gin Ichimaru. Komamura would have liked nothing better than to handle this situation alone. Yet such an unreasonable request would never be given consideration. And even asking it would have required a revelation that he was not willing to make.

Captain Komamura looked up at the howling forms of Menos Grande that towered over the treetops. The Wild Hunt had attacked what looked like the largest and most powerful concentration of Quincy alive today. There had apparently been a fortified training area here for the mortal warriors to hone their skills. Such numbers would have been sure to decimate even an army of Hollows. The Quincy must have thought themselves prepared for any assault by their demonic foes. But against the undying force that was the Hunt, mere logistics meant nothing. How could they have known such an enemy as this existed, a legend even in the afterlife, one whose ranks withstood all attempts at eradication? Members of the Wild Hunt did not die; even when faced with fatal wounds delivered by a vastly superior opponent, they would rise anew without any trace of damage moments later. For the Quincy, who had borne out their ages-old grudge against the undead with a vengeance, such an opponent served as a reminder of what other mortals were forced to deal with: the experience of being faced by a threat so severe that its very presence shook your grasp of reality. An explanation for how the Hollows suddenly knew who precisely to attack was not forthcoming. These misguided yet undeniably valiant mortals now verged on the brink of extinction.

None of which mattered now. Nearly an hour had elapsed since the premonition first came over him. No way to tell how many souls were already lost, but the fact that the Hunt still remained meant it had not yet finished them all. It must be stopped before it could fulfill its goal and escape. Dawn was hours away; many shinigami and Quincy would assuredly die if they used the time-tested strategy of holding the Hunt off until then. Which left slaying the Master, consigning his pack to the void along with him.

Normally such a tactic relied on simple blind luck. But Saijin Komamura was no ordinary shinigami. While far from being the greatest of the Gotei 13's ranks, he alone could lay claim to knowing exactly which mad Hollow out of hundreds here led the rest. Just as importantly, he possessed the will to follow this evil to its source.

How many people had perished tonight? A hundred? A thousand?! No more, Cernunnos. You will not escape this time. Wherever you are, I swear, your hunt ends with me!

Our role is clear. Let us go, Saijin.

"ROAR, TENKEN!"

An armored giant's arm wielding a blade of equal proportion emerged over his head. The disembodied limb swung with enough force to level the forest around them. Instead the only thing to feel its bite was the closest Menos. The brute was decapitated, falling to earth with a crash while still flailing and shrieking.

"First and second units, proceed!" Saijin bellowed an eager snarl. "Bring down any and all of the Hunt until they are dispersed! Unit Three, see to the wounded!"

The forces of Soul Society answered with war cries that mingled with the nightmarish baying of the Hunt. They then swooped down upon their earthbound enemies, Komamura at the lead. At every swing of his soul cutter, the marionette copied its master's movements. Slavering Menos fell by the dozens before this unrestrained assault. His lupine ears could detect a terrible wailing all around him, like the planet itself crying. This mixed in with the screams of the Hollows and the lingering groans of their victims.

Flying through the air, he caught a glimpse of Captain Ichimaru also deploying his soul cutter to devastating effect. The silver haired ghost sent Shinsō shooting out to unspeakable lengths, cleaving entire swaths of the Hunt in pieces all around him. Soul Society had chosen well in this matter; Ichimaru's shikai was amply suited for dealing with large numbers at great distances.

Even so, this would not be enough. The severed fragments of the Hunt experienced only brief intervals before reforming to rise again. Ceros burned through the night sky as the bloodthirsty Hollows turned their attention to the shinigami who danced upon thin air, smashing those loathsome masks open again and again. Down below, dedicated ground units sought to locate the remaining Quincy. While mad beyond anything resembling reason, the Wild Hunt still recognized opposition, and they attacked those who might hinder their bloodsport with unmatched ferocity. In that isolated and lonely place, spiritual war was waged between the forces of salvation and slaughter.

Captain Komamura soared over the snow-capped forest. Soon he had left his own forces far behind. Even without his presence, their orderly advance continued, as they had been trained in these situations. The Seventh Division did not rely solely on those who could perform ban-kai. This left him free to pursue his true reason for being here. He knew exactly where to go; like a hand on the back of his neck, pushing him ever onwards. Beneath his mask, amber eyes were wide as could be, nostrils flaring with the stink of it. The Hunt Master was calling him along with the rest of its brood. And he answered. You cannot hide from me like all the rest! I hear you, Cernunnos!

An elephantine skull on a long black robe lunged for him, eyes burning red with madness and no trace of self. His answering blow split its face in half, the half-charged Cero exploding inside its teeth to far greater damage. Even as it toppled, however, the beast was reforming. Only one of their member was truly vulnerable: their leader.

Landing amidst the sylvan battleground, Komamura raced along a riverbed whose icy shores were littered with the bodies of more dead. Corpses drifted downstream with the current in the manner of ice floes. He could smell their blood. Freshly spilled. It was here! So close!

A roaring noise completely unlike that of the enemy was growing louder. The determined tracker came out at the top of a raging cataract. Down at the base of the waterfall, four figures in white raiment fought with their backs against the cliffside against a crowd of nearly identical Menos. They wielded bows which fired destructive shots with the speed of lightning. While undeniably powerful, even this could not deter their enemies enough to allow the archers to break free. Such spirit weapons served only to stall the attackers no matter where they aimed. Limbs lost, heads torn loose from their bodies; none of this mattered to the Hunt. They rose to attack anew.

The shinigami captain emerged upon this scene just as the stalemate was broken. From out of the solid cliff wall behind the bowmen there sprang a blurred shape which snaked down to seize one of them. The Quincy screamed in shock even as his ghostly assailant retracted backwards into solid stone without effort, whereas the mortal man held in its jaws was dashed to pulp against unyielding rock.

"RUN!" another of the defenders roared. His remaining companions crouched in preparation to obey even as he raised his silver bow and let an absolute deluge of arrows loose. Where they passed, Hollows were torn asunder. In spite of this the punctured ghosts seized upon this depletion of resistance to strike with animal abandon.

As they did, a giant disembodied sword arm fell to split them into shrieking segments. Before they could reform, five enormous iron pillars slammed earthward, pinning the struggling mass of limbs beneath their weight.

The Quincy looked up as a masked giant dropped beside them.

"Flee," Saijin growled. "We will handle this."

Two of the archers trained their weapons upon him. He regarded these implements without fear. It was only then that Komamura noticed one of them was just a boy. No more than five years old, he crouched wet and shaking at his defender's side. Short black hair contrasted with bloodless skin that looked blue from cold and fear. There was vomit on his chin. All the same he held a blue bow like the rest. The woman standing guard by him, whom he had mistaken for a male owing to her close-cropped hair, had a great gash in her chest that was weeping blood. She looked desperately back at the other man as if seeking confirmation. Her child's face was a mask of despair.

We will save him.

Yes.

Turning his back on all three Quincy, Komamura faced the waterfall. He held up his bared zanpakutō before him. A fierce snarl emerged from his throat.

I know you are there.

Behind him the Quincy had made their decision. He heard them depart over the struggling of those pinned Gillian. And almost immediately, the cry of Cernunnos went out, alerting its followers to the escapees.

Best look to your own safety, monster.

"Ban-kai: Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō!"

As if waiting for this, something sprang forth from the shore behind him. Such swiftness clearly meant to take advantage of the time necessary to fully form his zanpakutō's released state, a brief weakness that all ban-kai shared. However this devious cunning proved faulty. The attacker slammed short a few feet before Komamura's broad back, struggling as it found its way blocked by a Dankū spell he had cast prior to joining the fray to protect his blind side.

Coward! We KNEW you would try that!

A tremendous shadow fell over them. Loosing an exultant roar, the outraged death god spun and chopped down. A tremendous katana the length of a city block moved in tandem to cleave cleanly through the course of the river, bringing an awful shriek with it.

The metal-plated juggernaut that now climbed over the treetops dwarfed all other beings of any stripe in this conflict. Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō reached so high its head brushed any low-hanging clouds, while its black samurai armor seemed a part of the night itself. Behind the mask, yellow eyes as chilling as any Hollow's drew down to the site of their conflict.

Something large breasted the river in the wake of the shinigami's attack. In form it greatly resembled a leech, black and mottled by pale white spots, with enormous pincers around a mouth stuffed full of fierce gnashing teeth. These implements clicked faintly together, spectral blood gushed from its length farther down where it had nearly been severed.

There is more to it.

I know, Tenken.

Without hesitation Komamura reversed his soul cutter and swiftly stabbed it into the frozen soil before him. Kokujō responded in kind, driving its weapon through snow-bound earth that offered no more resistance to this ghostly blade than water. Even as it did, however, he felt their target dive clear, emerging into the open air where he could finally see it.

Disgusting.

Agreed.

As if in response, all around them, every single Hollow in the Wild Hunt let loose echoing screams.

Cernunnos did not join this cacophony. It simply watched.

The form of the Hunt Master resembled nothing seen in nature. Its masked skull loomed as large as Kokujō Tengen's chest. Though colossal, the features were shrunken, pitted cheeks and puckered mouth lending it the appearance of the embalming work done by tribal headhunters. The cavity of its nose oozed a noxious black mist. From the temples there sprouted the curved horns of a ram, only with smaller spokes branching out. Long matted ropes of shifting filthy hair clung to its naked scalp and stretched straight up into the sky, anchoring this abomination in midair to wave slowly back and forth.

For there was no body. Neither arms nor legs had Cernunnos. Just that stinking head! A low moan emerged from its mouth not produced by any visible throat. Instead below the jaw there wriggled a loathsome gutful of giant parasitic tapeworms all boasting the same clacking orifices as their counterpart. So long did these repellent attachments stretch that they resembled the black cloak worn by all Menos Grande. Several snaked out towards the mountainous ban-kai as though sensing warm flesh on which to feast. The Lord of the Wild Hunt had ebon pits for eyes within which burned bright red embers. Back and forth this unclean spirit swung, slow as a clock pendulum.

End this quickly, before the rest can converge!

Komamura did not flinch from that ghastly visage. With his own face covered by his helmet, he stood before it with Kokujō Tengen as his sky-high shadow.

"Do you know me?" he growled.

Cernunnos drifted side to side on the flexing hooks of its hair. It offered no response.

A swelling wrath grew in his belly and came bursting forth as a roar. Saijin's sword arm came up, his Oriental Talos mimicking this movement, and he sent a sky-rending sweep forth to slice the monstrosity in half.

In response those plaited dreadlocks bunched and sprang like muscle tissue. They carried the stinking head wide of that enormous blow. At the same time several plump leech-strands detached and went streaking forward. Like fanged missiles they homed in on the titanic swordsman, who flashed its enormous blade around so fast it was little more than a blaze of light. Split worm parts soon festooned the ground around them.

In the interim Cernunnos had banked around, moving not to continue the attack, but in the direction which the three Quincy had fled. Before it could do so Komamura sent his shadow weapon lunging to skewer their nemesis. Exercising unnerving speed the floating visage shot to one side, brushing lightly along its edge as the blade went thundering by without slowing its pursuit. Even as it fled the red eyes never left off watching Komamura.

But he had more to offer than mere brute strength.

NOW!

"Hadō 32: ŌKASEN!"

A sphere of yellow light grew at the center of his own outthrust sword. Reflected and magnified in Kokurō Tengen's counterpart, the kidō spell then sped along the blade's entire length before erupting straight out. Caught in its path, the mile-long energy beam struck Cernunnos directly and tore into it.

A cry broke the air. Saijin Komamura felt his heart soar with ferocious delight as he saw that odious form pitch earthwards trailing fire and smoke. Yes! YES! I feel your fear now, vermin! Your time is at an end! Giving a glad shout he raised Tengen's arm aloft to deliver the finishing blow.

There came a sound from close by. Movement registered out of the corner of his eye, and Komamura glanced over in time to see what looked like great black balloons swelling before him.

The pieces of the leeches! They are all…!

Tenken could not complete his warning, as at that moment those swelling remnants erupted into flames.

The detonation threw Saijin off his feet. Briefly he realized that the heavy armor he wore had saved him from being roasted. Even so, his tunic was ablaze. Pain resulting mainly from the impact tore through him. There was no time to deal with any of this. I can't let him escape!

Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō rocked from the explosion and the blows taken by his wielder. He had sunk to one knee even as Komamura did the same. But when the captain raised his head, his partner responded. The sense of their target's location burned through them.

About to spring forward, Komamura felt new agony flare in his arm. Looking up he saw several more of the leeches had attached themselves to his ban-kai's armor. Already that limb had gone numb as those hungry worms fed off his spectral strength. Another wave of them flew in to do the same. About to attack, he was rocked by a heavy blow from behind that sent him pitching to his knees. Two of the Wild Hunt had tackled Kokujō Tengen, their teeth and claws digging savagely into his armor. Moments later a third huge Hollow flew in on great dark wings and slammed into all three of them, bearing the struggling mass to the ground. Squealing in frenzy it sank a great curved beak into the titan's neck. Blood gushed forth as even more leeches suction-plated themselves to his guardian spirit. The pain was shared between them without restriction. They were being eaten alive!

You worthless dog! Is this all you're capable of? Get up! Stand and fight!

No. Do not fight.

What?!

Do not hold on. Instead let go.

About to question, the explanation dawned on him, so obvious he actually laughed.

The Wild Hunt grappled and tore against the great armored champion, eager for its blood, when suddenly…

The ban-kai deactivated, and the giant faded away.

So intent on killing were they that upon losing contact with their meal the mad beasts actually tore into one another for a few seconds. And in that brief time, a disembodied arm of similar proportions emerged from nowhere, holding a sword that sped out and chopped the host to pieces. The injured leeches obeyed instinct and exploded high overhead, further decimating the mob's components to scatter around the snowy landscape.

Far below this case of friendly fire, a bleeding Komamura sheathed his weapon before taking off to soar above the forest in pursuit.

Strength is not all that matters. You are no beast. Do not behave as one.

Understood, my friend.

He was wounded, still ablaze and losing strength. But the need for vengeance brooked no obstacle. Cernunnos would go after the Quincy. It would kill them all, only then being sated. I cannot miss this chance to end it for good. The Wild Hunt must be destroyed!

The sight of several more Gillian clustering around one spot in the woods told him where to go. Blue flashes from Quincy magic lit the night. Three streams of supernatural arrows continued to rip apart the attacking Hollows as they lunged down to snap wildly, when suddenly one of them stopped. A childish scream sounded.

No more! Damn you, no more!

When Komamura burst onto the scene it was to find he was already too late. The female archer lay dead, torn in half and flung to either side. Her son continued to wail in a mixture of grief, anger and terror as he fired arrow after arrow into the ground in search of something to no avail. The hair on his head had turned white at the roots to match the snow all around them. His injured elder was shouting at him while attempting to hold off four surrounding Gillian by himself. There was no sign of Cernunnos anywhere.

He's belowground again!

They do not know where to aim, but we do. The beast is brought to bay! Drive it out!

Drawing Tenken, the raging captain leapt into the fray. Once again his shikai manifested and prepared to spear straight through the snow towards the heart of the Hunt.

But Saijin had neglected to take note of the Quincy, for even as he charged in to help, the howling youth spun about and fired blindly. His shaft punched through the broken armor on Komamura's shoulder. Still numbed from the previous injuries he had received, his grip on the zanpakutō loosened, sending it flying through the air. The big fighter stumbled to one knee. Before him the weeping child froze upon recognizing the one who had helped them before.

As if waiting for this, Cernunnos struck. The putrid menace emerged from hiding to rise high into the air, preceded by a wave of the leech creatures that went straight for Komamura and the adult Quincy. The human had already turned about to level a flight of arrows from his silver bow at the pack boss as it came out of hiding, but all of the hovering Gillian flung themselves down to interpose between his incoming attack and their ruler. The destructive bolts tore through them, but lined up back to back even this mighty power lacked the strength to pierce all four, and the leader of the Hunt remained safe behind the black-robed bodies. By then the leeches had seized their chance. The lone archer fell with several of them embedded in his blood-spattered white raiment even as the rest streaked in to seize upon Komamura with their draining touch.

The boy witnessed all this. In a panic he spun and aimed at Cernunnos. Far swifter a black cloud had already emerged from the Hunt Master's nostrils and swept forward. It invaded his mouth, causing the tiny fighter to collapse in a heap. Struggling to breathe, he crawled across the snow in a desperate attempt to find air.

The Lord of the Hunt descended, as if satisfied there were no further threats. Behind it the quartet of Menos Grande had reformed. Now unopposed, that malignant victor floated in triumph. Almost immediately its sights fell upon the struggling child, and it moved towards him.

"Do so…"

Cernunnos paused.

"… and die."

It turned to regard him. Komamura lay flat on the ground covered in bloated leeches. His strength was leaving him. He could not reach Tenken, nor find enough power to cast a spell. All hope seemed lost. But still his blazing eyes fastened upon the disembodied specter. In their depths was a promise of death like none it had ever seen.

"You know me, Cernunnos."

The voice he used belonged not to a shinigami, but a Hollow. And upon hearing it, the Hunt Master's glowing red eyes flashed. It sounded a specific call only a select few could hear. As one the nearby Gillian opened their mouths to form Ceros which they trained upon the fallen death god.

Saijin paid it no mind. All his focus was bent on the enemy leader.

We will take it with us.

Yes. I am proud to have fought with you.

Then use all your power, warrior.

You have my thanks.

Energy beyond that of a shinigami rose in him. It should be enough to get the job done. But just as he was preparing to spring forward, the Hunt Master gave the order to attack.

A slight hum was heard, and nothing more.

Cernunnos jerked its gaze up. High overhead the Menos had been cut in half, red light dying in their jaws as their top portions fell. A silver sword over a league in length bisected the heavens several more times before disappearing. It left behind an even more ruined mess of the Gillian.

By contrast Komamura saw none of this. He had already pushed to his feet with a roar. Buoyed by all the strength he could lay claim to at this moment the wounded soldier charged at his foe. The Hunt Master spun back to confront him. Its own mouth opened wide as a red Cero took form.

He did not dodge, or alter his course in any way. Instead the blood-spattered captain tore off his helm, revealing long canine jaws which he then proceeded to sink into the head of one of the leeches hanging off his arms. Such was their strength that he bit the thing clean in two. The trailing body fell away, but before it could touch the snow, he had already grabbed it up and flung the dissected portion straight at Cernunnos.

The black bomb swelled like a hot-air balloon. Cernunnos' pinpoint eyes flew open, moments before the leech exploded right in its face. A scream of pain went up, echoing far and wide.

"Death… god…!"

About to bite several more of his parasitic arsenal to finish the kamikaze attack, the captain's sensitive ears picked out this weak cry. Turning his head he spotted the Quincy boy from before. Still struggling to draw breath, the child had crawled not in flight, but to the spot where Tenken had fallen. Now hoisting the soul cutter up, the wheezing youth took two steps forward and flung that spectral weapon as hard as he could. It soared through the air, twirling like the samara seed of a maple tree. He stretched out his hand to receive it.

Cernunnos emerged from the smoke screaming, its fetid pelt now aflame in patches. Once more a destructive aura glowed in its mouth which it leveled at the approaching captain. Only then did it notice the zanpakutō in flight.

As his fingers closed over Tenken's hilt, Komamura looked that ancient terror in the eye.

Know me now, demon.

The Hunt Master howled. The Captain roared. A Cero lit the white forest red. And Tenken's shikai fell.

The gigantic sword cleaved that approaching death beam so it passed to either side of Komamura, split perfectly in twain along with the stinking head of the Hunt Master.

A despairing scream burst from Cernunnos as the severed halves fell away from one another. This call grew louder, and louder, so that it seemed a mighty horde of bereaved souls was echoing their loss. Before it had even died out the Lord of the Hunt dissolved into flecks of blackness that quickly became glowing butterflies. All throughout the forest this process repeated with every one of the insane horde. Some were purified, while others merely vanished like they had never been. The last echoes of Cernunnos' death cry faded away, and the Wild Hunt was no more.

Bleeding, Komamura studied the spot where his nemesis had finally fallen. The leeches had vanished from both him and the Quincy male, who struggled to rise. So too was the young acolyte breathing now without effort as all trace of the Hunt Master's sickness vanished. Every hair on his head, from eyebrows to lashes, was now bone white. Noticing the boy staring at him, Saijin realized that his face was uncovered. Quickly he bent to retrieve his helmet and placed it back on. The three of them stood there for a while, accepting that they had survived.

After a while the tiny stripling walked haltingly over to where the dead woman's torso lay. Doing so apparently cost him in terms of stamina, for he sank beside her with heavy pants. For a time he just stared at her without making a sound. His eyes closed as the tears began to fall.

The older Quincy approached and knelt beside them. Gazing on the lady's face, his own held a look of stunned disbelief. He opened his mouth to speak, paused, and bending down, removed a silver pentacle on a chain attached to the corpse's wrist. This he held out towards the softly crying child.

"She would want you to have this, Ryūken."

Opening his eyes, the white-haired waif looked at this offering. Almost automatically he reached for it only to hesitate. Moonlight glinted off the metal prongs and shone red from blood that spattered it. Another such item had slipped from the older man's sleeve to dangle listlessly.

When he saw this, the kid's eyes narrowed in sudden fury.

"Worthless!" he spat. His small hand lashed out and knocked the bloodied cross aside. The boy stood up, spinning away even as his protector attempted to reach out to him. About to stalk off he paused, then turned to regard Komamura. With utmost solemnity far beyond his years the blood-spattered child offered a very deep bow. The captain responded with an inclination of his mask, after which that grim survivor turned and marched away into the trees, his hair and clothes blending into the fallen snow all around him.

"Wait!" his human ally called out. "Come back, there might still be danger nearby!"

Captain Komamura stepped forward. "You should be safe for a while," he informed the exhausted mortal. "Any prey that manages to escape the Wild Hunt once can never be hunted by them again. And no other Hollows would risk coming near where they have so recently been for fear they might return. For now only the elements need concern you and your charge."

The man appeared dazed, glancing between the shinigami captain and the retreating child. "He's my son."

Komamura looked off at that lonely form. "Then you must go with him. We will attend to the slain. Your son needs you."

The stricken Quincy shivered. Then with a weary nod he stood up. "Thank you, master shinigami." After casting one last grief-stricken look at the woman's body, he marched off into the woods.

We have won, Saijin.

Will it be enough, do you think?

Perhaps. It may return, or not. Either way, we have avenged all their wrongs.

He glanced at the dead body, and gave a rueful shake of his head.

I feel no better.

"Yo, Captain Komamura!"

He came about to find Gin Ichimaru skipping down out of the night sky to join him. The smiling fox's zanpakutō was bared and he tapped it lazily against one shoulder.

"So this's where ya went off to! Here I was wondering what all those Hollows were so interested in. Didja happen to notice anything that might've scared 'em away?"

The slender fighter's words were teasing. He boasted not a single wound or even a tear in his clothes. By contrast Saijin knew he must look a shabby thing; armor broken, robe burnt, mask askew. The comparison did nothing to improve his opinion of the man.

"I cannot say, Captain Ichimaru. Perhaps they slew their intended target."

"Really." Here Gin's scrunched-up eyes seemed to grow even narrower. "That's one possibility, I suppose. I mean, you might not believe it, but we couldn't find a single survivor out of all this mess! Yup, they've all been massacred. Every one we came across that was still breathing sure didn't stay that way long. Old Captain-Commander Yamamoto will be real distraught to learn about this. Yup, he'll be just plain devastated."

Komamura's fists clenched. There were several layers of insinuation in those words he did not take kindly to.

"Unless…" And here Ichimaru scanned the surrounding area casually, letting his gaze linger on the woman's corpse. "… that ain't actually the case. Waddaya say, Captain Komamura? You know of any Quincy that might have survived?"

Near where they stood, two sets of footprints led off into the trees.

"We have done our duty, Ichimaru-taichou." So saying, Komamura moved to stand over those tracks. He rested one hand on his sword, letting his powerful body stand as a warning. "Anything else should be no concern of ours."

The other First Seat studied him for a brief space without over losing his smile. Then giving a noncommittal shrug he turned away. "Whatever you say, Seventh Squad Captain!" So saying, he walked off.

---

"It was arrogance on my part," Komamura stated as he lumbered down the hall. "I had hoped that being a former leader of the Hunt, my soul power could serve to abolish Cernunnos completely. For years I awaited some sign that it had returned. After all these decades I had begun to hope the Wild Hunt had left the world for good." Bitterness made his next words almost a whisper. "But even that part of my legacy has been removed."

"Don't fault yourself, Komamura-san," Ukitake sought to console him as they reached the manor courtyard. "That the Wild Hunt still exists doesn't alter the fact you saved lives. And you are not alone in wishing you could have done more."

Running a hand through his long curly hair, Kyōraku Shunsui sighed with regret. "Such a melancholy parting. Are you certain you won't stay for a drink, Komamura? Some quality liquor might serve to give this little party a more spirited ending!"

"I am grateful to you both for hearing me out." Servants had already cleaned the big man's travel footwear. Bending to lace up his sandals, he rose to regard the other shinigami retirees. "Perhaps my story might be of some use to those who still make a difference in our world. For now I have other duties to attend."

Jūshirō nodded in sympathy. "I understand. Please come again, or do me the honor of visiting your home. I believe I speak for Shunsui as well in saying we value your company."

Hands tucked into the sleeves of his pink kimono, the other living legend smiled good-naturedly. "He's not wrong. It did my heart good, us old war dogs sitting around commiserating like this. I'm glad you chose to stop by, Komamura."

Those amber eyes blinked, as if honestly perplexed to find himself treated so well. His gaze drifted off to one side. "You do me too much honor."

Shrugging into his traveling cloak, the dog-headed veteran grasped his walking stick and adjusted his hat. The gates to the manor swung soundlessly open behind him. Framed against the flourishing backdrop of Soul Society in all its splendor, Saijin Komamura bowed humbly from the waist to his hosts.

"I bid you farewell."

They bowed in return. "Safe journey, old friend," Ukitake stated.

With that the former head of squad Seven made his way out onto the path and turned his heading towards the west.

Watching him go, Jūshirō frowned in thought. "He still believes there is something he needs to make amends for."

"Maybe if we let him in on all the misfortune we can lay claim to it might help by comparison?" his old friend opined.

To this the fair-haired lord hung his head. "There are some sins only death can forgive."

"I was joking, Ukitake! Goodness, but you two make me feel old. There's no use regretting the past. I, for one, take great relief in knowing there are still capable young people out there fighting the good fight."

Ukitake Jūshirō covered his eyes and squinted up at the sun beaming brightly overhead. "Yes," he murmured. "As it always goes, the old must needs put our faith in the younger generation."

---

"FE!" Pesche swept out his arms to either side.

"FI!" Dondochakka responded by dropping to one knee and flexing his biceps.

"FO-O-O-O-O-O-O-O!" Bawabawa enthusiastically wiggled his sinuous eel tail in delight, as atop his head…

"FUM!"

Orihime stridently completed her portion of the routine with arms curled around her crown in the manner of a geometric heart whilst bouncing up and down on her knees.

The trio of Hollow performers remained frozen in their respective position while their star continued her gyrations. Around them, a few shinigami coughed or shifted uncomfortably. Far more of them, however, could not tear their eyes away from their orange-haired cheerleader and the resultant… jiggling that this show involved.

"I feel like she's a little exposed up there," Renji grumbled, a well-practiced scowl unable to disguise the pinkish cast to his cheeks. "Captain, wouldn't it be better to have Orihime-chan on the ground where it's safe?"

"Get your head in the game, lieutenant," his commander responded.

"Yes, ma'am."

Now in her resurrección, Neliel tu Odelschvank pawed the white sand with her hooves, tan-colored eyes scanning the assembled ranks of death gods that composed her command. While positively effervescent under normal circumstances, the prospect of combat revoked such frivolity, and the armored centaur assumed the mantle of a warrior that had once earned her a leadership position in the Espada. Siamese Company may be composed of what could be kindly described as a motley crew, but its members were no less focused when on a mission than any other division. And the acting captain of this ragtag band of disciplined veterans commanded the respect of her followers.

With war-lance Gamuza tapping slowly against her shoulder, she flicked a glance over at the pair behind them. "Can you feel it now?"

Off to Renji's right, the Vaizard Lisa Yadomaru shrugged. "It's a little clearer. Still not a concrete feel, though. I know we're right over their nest, but honestly, if I had passed through on my own, it probably wouldn't have registered even with my mask on. Those Sombra cloaks really do the trick, right, Shinji?"

"Mmm?" Beside her the erstwhile leader of the Masked Army was gazing in spellbound rapture at the jugglicious display in a school uniform continuing to bounce overhead. "Yeah, right, s'more condoms," Hirako Shinji responded distractedly. "Gotta have condoms, no doubt."

A sudden backwards movement from Neliel's rear hoof sent a shower of sand straight into her blonde compatriot's exposed incisors. The resultant coughing and spitting convinced her he had been sufficiently chastised.

Rank upon rank of armed shinigami spread around them, weapons at the ready. One of their ranging parties had come upon the human Inoue wandering about the desert early on. She was brought immediately to the commanders' presence to relay whatever information she might have as to the whereabouts of the remaining prisoners. Which was precious little, through no fault of her own.

But at the very least Orihime had confirmed their suspicions about the enemy being located underground. Afterwards she insisted on remaining with the troops in order to perform rejuvenation on anyone wounded. According to Renji, the human girl ranked higher than any of them in terms of healing, which was not to be discounted. And so she was permitted to stay. Nel's fracción, Bawabawa included, had volunteered as her security detail. Certainly Orihime was safer with her subordinates than anywhere else. They were as much attuned to Hollow spirit signatures as she was; they could smell their own, after all.

Neliel considered. The only evident landmarks were two fairly large holes that her scouts claimed had occurred in the very recent past. Far more pressing than these, however, was the swirling vortex of concentrated Hollow energy below their feet. No one but her, Pesche and Dondochakka could sense it. She cursed herself for allowing a nest of this magnitude to go unnoticed 'til now. Of course, the former Espada could not be expected to scour every last corner of Hueco Mundo in search of holdouts. But all the same, it irked her that such a large concentration of enemies could have escaped her notice.

Even more distressing, Captain Tōshirō Hitsugaya was here. There was no mistaking it. All the shinigami had felt him go bankai somewhere in the tunnels below only a short while past. This had forced Neliel to rethink her previous timetable. The arrival of the Vaizard was a welcome addition. Now at least two top-rank fighters could lead a party to intervene on Hitsugaya's behalf while the rest concentrated on locating the missing humans. No one could guess how their young ally had arrived here ahead of them or even what had alerted him to this operation. Such questions would have to wait, since clearly the captain of Greyhound was engaging an opponent that warranted his maximum power. However Neliel resisted her cohorts' exhortations to engage quickly on his behalf. If the enemy was that strong, all the more reason not to charge in without thorough preparations beforehand.

As if in response to these musings, a familiar scent tickled her nostrils.

Nel's lips parted on a quick inhalation. Outwardly she gave no other sign of distress, but her heart was racing. With studious indifference she risked a glance over towards the Vaizard. Neither of them seemed to have picked up on it. Lieutenant Abarai, too, did not appear to have noticed.

The same could not be said for her fellow Hollows. Both had left off all antics to stare in the direction from which that aroma originated. Upon catching their attention she gave a barely perceptible nod which they acknowledged.

Too many Hollows below. We didn't smell him coming until it was too late. The situation had just grown even more alarming.

Grimmjow Jeaguarjaques was in the vicinity.

"All units reported in, Captain. We can proceed at your order."

She glanced over at the scout saluting her, then up at the sky, thinking furiously. If Grimmjow did enter the fray, there was a chance the two representatives of the Masked Army would go berserk again, just as they had during the initial foray into Hueco Mundo when this occupation began. In such a state they would be a threat to everyone around them, including Siamese Company. She and Renji might be obligated to restrain or even destroy them should it come to that. And there was no guarantee who would survive such a conflict. Fighting one another in the midst of an enemy invasion? Neliel couldn't imagine a worse-case scenario.

Hueco Mundo screamed!

This impression lasted only a moment. Snapping out of her shock, Captain Odelschvank looked wildly about. Renji was regarding her strangely, lips moving in an open question. The buzzing in her ears prevented any communication. Pesche and Dondochakka had collapsed. Bawabara lay shivering, Orihime Inoue sprawled on the sand beside him. Lisa and Shinji rushed to aid them. She saw the girl's eyes widen with frightened disbelief. Meanwhile all the shinigami regarded them in outright incomprehension.

They can't feel him coming. But we can.

As if to illustrate this, screams erupted from the west. Looking up, Neliel caught an impression of black-robed bodies flying in every direction. Something was carving a swath through their ranks with such speed as to defy opposition. Its course led towards one of the great pits around which their forces had gathered.

The lieutenant was shouting at her. He had gone bankai, the thrashing coils of Hihio Zabimaru rising around him. Neliel refrained from expressing her opinion of how little this would matter. Orihime was weeping hysterically on her knees. She felt a curious coldness run through her bones at the sight. At least I'm not the only one who recognizes what this means. Am I sad too? She envied that child the luxury of tears. If they both survived, it might be nice to commiserate later.

I never thought we would lose him so quickly. Why did no one tell me he was close to succumbing? Not even a chance to say goodbye.

Her champion had fallen to his inner Hollow, and now they must destroy all that was left of Ichigo Kurosaki.

Neliel gripped her lance in resolve and cantered forward. "Protect Orihime-chan!" Having recovered, her two vassals bowed shakily in obedience and moved to take up defensive positions astride the distraught human. She moved out before the crowd of high-ranked shinigami. "Abarai-fukutaichou, send every ranked officer below Second Seat to assist Captain Hitsugaya, then have Tiger Company's officers found and brought here immediately! The remainder of our forces are to join the rear guard and begin a concerted kidō formation to provide us with backup! We will attempt to hold him off until Zaraki arrives!"

"Hold who-?!"

The look she gave him silenced any questions. Turning about, Lieutenant Abarai began relaying these commands to their adjutants, who commenced with kidō spells to transmit the orders through the ranks, after which they began an orderly withdrawal, gathering up those already dead or injured. There was no question of staying behind to fight. Her host knew what was expected of them at all levels. Lisa and Shinji had gone into combat mode, masks falling and shikai already in evidence. Satisfied, Neliel took point, galloping hard towards the borehole down which Ichigo's Hollow had disappeared.

The three other mightiest souls in attendance moved quickly to flank her. They could enter as a unit; her, Renji, and the Vaizard. Together they might be enough to challenge him. Neliel had no illusions about any prospect of victory. She remembered clearly what it had felt like when this hellish force arose in their world back before the Autumn War began. It was enough to challenge a vasto lorde on equal footing, if not greater. Only with the Kenpachi did they have any hope of winning, and even then it would be too close to call.

But could it be the odds were not as bad as she had initially supposed? He… or rather, it didn't feel as powerful as she remembered. For sure, this current outpouring of spiritual force was still huge, but it was nowhere near the level that demolished Ulquiorra. Perhaps they stood a chance.

The tide of power that abruptly broke over them put everything that came before it to shame. She almost stumbled and fell, her charge reducing to a mere trot before coming to a halt. Her compatriots appeared to be experiencing a similar reaction. No need to ask why. There was no attempt being made to hide this one. Around them, every single shinigami member of Siamese Squad still within eyesight was struck down as though by a poleaxe. One could hear it as an entire army collapsed all around them.

Captain Odelschvank stood panting, clutching Gamuza like a crutch to keep her from crumpling in a heap. Two of them… have I gone mad, or can this really be happening? Once again recognition came immediately, at least to her. How could she not know it, having been the first among her race to meet this horror and live to tell of it? But it just… couldn't be!

It was hate that convinced her. She could practically taste the murderous enmity that underlay this second titanic aura. This was no fit of delirium. No way to explain it, or indeed deny it.

After a few seconds in which it took all she had just to stay upright, the ground before them swelled abruptly. Like a festering pustule ready to burst. And then it did so, accompanied by a terrific boom that sent rock and sand cascading in a cataract as Cuarta Espada Ulquiorra Schiffer rose into the sky, locked in combat with Ichigo's Hollow.

---

"Can I take that arm, milady?"

"Buzz off," Tatsuki mumbled, clutching Kon's severed limb tightly to her chest and ignoring the looks it earned her.

"Manners, Arisawa-chan!" Misato Ochi tutted severely as she assisted Chizuru Honsho up the rockslide and onto the surface. Then, to her shinigami accomplice, "Don't take it personally, Makizo-san. We've had a pretty rough day, as you can imagine."

"No worries, madam, no worries!" The guy (Makizo, was it?) laughed and wrung his hands nervously. His eyes had a furtive, shifty look to them. They kept darting upward, left, right, side to side.

A terrific boom made him cringe. "We have to go!" the greasy-haired toadie proclaimed. He then proceeded to pick up Ochi-sensei. Without waiting to ask for approval another death god did the same for Tatsuki, who was still too drained to resist, and the same for Chizuru, the most rubbery-legged of their party. They then proceeded to speed towards the far-off ranks of armed shinigami like death was snapping at their heels.

Tatsuki had few misgivings at being manhandled like this given the situation. All around them, continuous peals of thunder shook the whole landscape of Hueco Mundo, causing the very sky to churn in the manner of a storm-tossed sea, as two gods strove to kill one another.

She didn't have to look to know the fight was still going on. Not that looking would have helped. Both Ulquiorra and… that thing moved much too fast for her to pick up on it. But she could feel the conflict now somewhere off to her left, with all the destructive potential of a tornado about to touch down. Around her shinigami were racing all across the desert like so many little black ants, picking up wounded, shouting orders. Tatsuki appreciated being carried like this regardless of how humiliating it might appear. The conflict was overwhelming her senses. She feared that at any moment it might just cause her to pass out. Have to hold on to consciousness a little longer; maybe I can figure out a way to help the shinigami kill…

…whichever one of them is left standing in the end.

A horrible shriek tore the air, and Arisawa cringed, clutching Kon's arm as though it were a protective talisman. That was him; the Hollow formerly known as Ichigo. It sounded like it might be in pain. And for all that she understood this had once been someone she cared for, Tatsuki could not muster any sympathy right now. She remembered the way that creature had looked at her. Not like a human being, or even an animal; just meat that it planned to rip apart and feast upon. Could this mean Ulquiorra had gained the upper hand? Was that obscene parody of her schoolmate about to die?

Don't think about it. I don't want Ulquiorra to win. It's not right, so don't think about it. I don't want Ichigo to die. I don't, I don't, I…

"Kurosaki-kun!"

Just like that it dawned upon her. She hadn't noticed through everything that went on up 'til now, but Tatsuki finally realized that Orihime was close at hand. Looking up she spied her best friend some ways off struggling to break free from two bare-chested men with scarred faces. They were shouting at her, holding on with what looked like minimal effort. Enemies? She observed the wild look on Inoue's face as she sought in vain to get away. No. Those two aren't trying to capture her, they're trying to stop Orihime from…

"Santen Kesshun!"

A flash of light from the frantic teen's temples, and suddenly twin triangular walls sprang up around her, knocking both of the men back. Moments later Orihime was stumbling across the sand. Not towards me. Arisawa's heart dropped into her stomach.

She's going to him. To Ichigo.

It wasn't like no one tried to catch her. The scarred pair were up and moving before their target could take a few steps. They sprang to block the distraught girl, yet when they tried to clutch at her, the shields returned, knocking them aside with as little effort as before. Orihime didn't even seem to notice this; all her attention was fixated straight ahead. Her familiars had now formed a domed barrier around her that prevented any attempt to impede their mistress.

There was no question of what had to be done. "Take me to her!" Tatsuki gasped. Her escort looked down with uncertainty all over his face, and she brusquely added, "NOW!"

Apparently that was enough for him. Before she knew it Tatsuki found herself astride Orihime's path. The glowing dome bore down upon them like a tidal wave. She won't hurt me, Arisawa tried to reassure herself. Not me, I don't care how far away her brain is right now, I can reach her, she's not going to-

A sound like a body hitting the floor during a sparring match, and the next thing she knew Arisawa was dumped on her ass. Bemused, she looked over one shoulder to see the shinigami that had accompanied her go flying away. Between this sight and her there now arose a transparent orange barrier. I'm inside, the girl realized swiftly. I got in, she let me in without even realizing it. So that means…

Any weariness became a memory. Tatsuki came to her feet moments before Inoue came rushing up. There was no sign she even recognized what had happened, so intent was she upon her goal. The clear anguish in her eyes made Tatsuki want to retch. All the same, this did not prevent her from lunging forward to tackle her classmate before she could go streaking by.

They collapsed together, limbs striking and flailing against one another. There was no strength left in the fiery martial artist to try anything more advanced than grimly holding on and refusing to let go.

"Let go!" As if reading her mind, a frightened voice like Orihime's sounded even as dainty hands pummeled at her in an attempt to break free. "Let go let go let GO!"

"Stop it!" she snarled back. An elbow thudded into her cheek, making her head ring with pain. Yet still Tatsuki did not relent. "It's not him! Goddammit, that's not him! ORIHIME!"

"Please, Tatsuki, let go! I have to get to him before it's too late! I can change him back, you know I can! I'm the only one who can do it! Let GO!"

She ignored this. It was terror that motivated her to hold on. A selfish fear for her own life, yes, but also for Orihime's, and Chizuru's, Ochi-sensei even. She knew Inoue would never forgive herself if her actions brought harm to one of their friends. I won't let that happen. I won't!

Arisawa then found herself doing something incredibly childish as she reached up to tangle her fingers in long reddish-orange hair and give a mighty yank. Orihime emitted a cry of shock as she began to thrash anew, eyes closed and tears spilling down her face. In vain she sought to pull that iron grip away, but Tatsuki was implacable. Instead of relenting she only gave another vicious pull that brought an even greater howl from the weeping redhead's lips, though her heart nearly broke from the knowledge of how cruelly she was treating someone she loved.

Because that's what they do. Hollows go after the ones they love first. She recalled someone explaining that to her. If he sees us, then we're as good as dead. Tatsuki gasped and cried herself as she held on, dimly aware that the barrier had dissolved around them and more people were closing in to help.

When firm hands separated them, it was such a relief. Tatsuki looked around to find herself now flanked by Rukia's friend Renji Abarai, along with a strange figure dressed in casual men's attire and sporting a Hollow mask. Orihime had finally gone limp, one arm firmly held by a woman wearing a white mask bearing no design save for a large cross carved in its surface. A shadow fell over them all, cast by a green-haired female centaur who loomed huge and menacing against the night sky. Hard eyes focused on the weeping Orihime. "Get them to safety," the horse-woman ordered.

"Right," the masked man nodded, and bent to grip Orihime's other arm. She made no move to resist, merely sprawled half upright with head sunk low.

As they drew her up, however, the broken teenager drew in a deep breath and screamed.

"KUROSAKI-KUN!"

---

Sharp claws dug into the Hollow's cheek as Ulquiorra slammed the side of its head over and over into the earth, drawing blood and screams until bare rock split and cracked. One black-nailed hand raked across his face in response, tangling in the vasto lorde's long black hair and wrenching roughly to one side, sending the vampire lord flying. Great wings unfurled, allowing Schiffer to almost immediately right himself and come thundering back to smash into the Hollow even as it regained its feet. The two mortal enemies tore into each other as they sped across the desert like a runaway locomotive, sand and shinigami too slow to flee churning in their wake.

Above the cloud of silica Ulquiorra emerged, airborne once again. His arm pointed down as power built up unbelievably fast. The Hollow sprang to meet him, launching itself high into the sky with an animal roar.

A Cero Oscuro hit head-on with a collision so fierce it caused the whole fabric of Hueco Mundo to ripple briefly. The entire desert was lit green and black. Dark energy surged at the heart of the conflagration as the Hollow sought to break through and reach its enemy's heart.

It ended so abruptly. Without warning all the resistance vanished like tissue paper before a storm, and the energy beam plowed straight earthward taking Ichigo's Hollow with it. As it struck the ground an epic detonation followed. Hastily erected kidō barriers meant some of the nearby Siamese Company members were defended, while those less quick-witted or too awestruck to get the words out were lifted up by the shockwave to go tumbling through the air.

Before the lingering remnants of this attack had even fully dissipated the bat-winged assassin landed at the sight of his enemy's fall. Molten sand ran hot around his ankles. A Lanza del Relampago, his signature weapon, now hummed dangerously in one fist as he stalked with single-minded purpose through the haze.

What lurched out of the mist to launch itself at the approaching Espada might have given anyone else pause. It bore no more resemblance to a human, much less Ichigo Kurosaki. The formerly creamy skin was shiny black and shriveled like only the most traumatic of burn victims. There was no hair on its head; only green fire crowned it or burned in isolated patches along the practically incinerated flesh. Viridian flames seemed to pour from its lipless mouth instead of screams. Only the eyes remained unharmed, two orange black pits of madness. And in spite of all this it still came on.

The lord of Hollows halted as the flaming killer sped for his throat. Black and green eyes seemed to narrow. Then without any visible movement he now stood to one side. His Lanza came flashing down.

The scream that followed was high with shock. Ichigo's Hollow hit the ground hard to roll across the dunes in a heap. The creature came upright and turned around, swaying slightly. It looked down at the bleeding stump of its right arm, then over at the severed limb still burning with green fire. A quavering groan choked forth, and it shook its head in disbelief. Even as it stood erect the Hollow's healing factor was at work restoring the rest of its body, until once more the twisted reflection of Ichigo Kurosaki stood naked under the stars. Only the arm had not returned, and blood still flowed.

"You are weaker."

Ichigo's Hollow looked up to find Ulquiorra regarding it from several meters back, the Lanza pulsing in his grip.

"This is nothing like the power you possessed when last we fought," that slender powerhouse intoned in his cold uninspired voice. "Not even half. No zanpakutō. No Cero. Not even a helmet for show. And your mark is hardly halfway open." He indicated with his horned head at the Hollow's naked chest where a half-moon hole was now fully visible. "Which leads me to conclude that you are not fully present."

The green lance rose to train upon it, and that dispassionate voice held a touch of rebuke now. "Where is the rest of Ichigo Kurosaki?"

"Gonna kill you," the Hollow chortled bloodily, though its eyes flickered with obvious unease. "You pasty-faced… bitch, you made me look like… Grimmjow! I'm gonna… kill you… for that!"

About to continue his assault, Ulquiorra paused as something caught his attention. Between them, the Hollow's severed arm appeared to be disintegrating. No, not even that… it looked as if it were vanishing altogether, turning more transparent by the moment.

As if becoming aware of this the maimed creature lifted its sole remaining hand before it. The fingers flexed. Right then they too began to flicker in and out of visibility. Upon witnessing this Ichigo's Hollow moaned in a way completely unlike before. Its body blinked between full opacity and semi-solid, allowing the surrounding view of Hueco Mundo to be seen through it ever so briefly.

"No…"

"KUROSAKI-KUN!"

In the stillness of their interrupted duel that shout carried clearly over the rising hubbub of a frightened army. Across the vista of hastily regrouping shinigami, a beautiful red-haired girl was crying.

The Hollow's head swung about, and its eyes lit up as it caught sight of Orihime Inoue and Tatsuki Arisawa. Without another thought it sped towards them.

---

Tatsuki practically felt the Hollow's attention turn on them. Even with a platoon of death gods between it and her, she could register its murderous lust like two hands already around her throat.

The masked warriors had put themselves between them and the fight. With the help of Misato and her shinigami boyfriend she began to drag her frantic classmate back, even as the tearful Orihime clamored desperately to reach what she seemed unwilling to accept was not their classmate Ichigo. Weakened as she was, Tatsuki could not manage to put the usual amount of effort into it.

"Orihime!" she screamed. "Sto–!"

This was as far as she got. The Hollow just appeared before them like magic, bypassing both Vaizard before she could so much as blink. Their eyes met. A look of pure triumph was on the creature's face even though it was flickering like a broken movie projector. Watch this, Tatsuki! it seemed to say as a black-nailed hand shot past her towards the howling Inoue.

Its fingers closed on nothing but air.

Vainly the empty hand continued to clutch, as if incapable of understanding how it could have missed at this range. Its dangling legs twitched. Only then did the Hollow seem to realize where the problem lay.

Its head turned slowly to look behind it where Ulquiorra Schiffer was now holding his enemy several feet off the ground, impaled through the chest on the tip of his Lanza. There was not a trace of emotion in the Espada's face as he watched the semi-solid spirit continue to grasp ineffectually for a target it could no longer find. Orihime and Tatsuki now slumped in each other's embrace on the sand before them, stunned by this implausible rescue.

As Tatsuki stared, the Hollow's arm dropped limply to its side. The neck sagged forward, eyes fastening on them even as the whole thing began to flicker more rapidly than before. That hideous face twisted. For all the world, it looked as though it were about to cry.

Moments later, Ichigo's Hollow simply vanished without a trace.

Ulquiorra regarded the spot where his hated enemy had so recently hung. Tatsuki did not dare move. Behind him she saw the two warriors had come about with weapons drawn and empty eye sockets burning. A great bone serpent now swung overhead, and the centaur hefted her lance with blades of green energy sprouting from its points. The vasto lorde spared them not a glance. All his attention turned instead on the two humans crouched shivering at his feet. Tatsuki had never felt so frighteningly defenseless. There was truly nothing she could do to fight back this time.

He reached for her.

"Get away from them…"

The demon's hand paused.

"… Ulquiorra!"

All heads turned. A few yards off, at the head of a host of armed shinigami, Ichigo Kurosaki stood with his black katana clenched in one hand, face dark with threat. By his side stood someone she recognized as Nanao Ise, attired like all the rest in death god apparel. Tatsuki stared. He's… still alive?

"Shinigami," she heard Ulquiorra speak in a way that caused her to shudder. Black lips pressed together in an even deeper frown. The fact that he was surrounded did not even seem to register. He ignored everyone else except for Ichigo. Vaguely Tatsuki realized Ochi-sensei and another guy were attempting to drag her and Orihime back, a feat which was made difficult by the fact that she felt rooted to this spot, muscles frozen up with an instinctive need to stay still.

Their classmate faced off against the resurrected vampire lord. They're going to go at it right here, she realized. We'll get torn apart if that happens. Can't anybody stop it?

As if in response to her prayer, an explosion far to their left blew apart the stillness. From out of the desert there arose something almost like a big white butterfly sailing into the sky of Hueco Mundo to flutter lazily earthward. This was followed almost immediately by a geyser of yellow energy.

The titanic scream that accompanied this display was so chilling everyone froze, from Ichigo and Ulquiorra on down. Tatsuki saw those green slit eyes flicker towards this new interruption. So close, she detected a tremor pass through his frame.

The hole in his chest began to crumble, its edges turning gray.

Before she could be sure of this, black wings had already unfolded. A great rush of wind and sand blew over them, causing everyone nearby to avert their eyes. When she was able to look again, Ulquiorra was gone. Tatsuki thought she caught a glimpse of something streaking off towards the horizon fast as lightning. Moments later even this brief impression was gone, leaving them stunned but still very much alive.

The girl gazed around blearily. With any luck, that would be the last of the surprises. She heard that centaur lady bark some orders at the red-headed shinigami officer before taking off along with the disfigured duo. He then began conversing quickly with Kurosaki and Ise. Nanao did most of the talking, and in under a minute she seemed to have explained everything to the frowning spirit's satisfaction. He gave a curt nod and gestured towards the two high school students huddled together, then proceeded to race off towards the site of that recent detonation followed closely by the masked fighters.

Many of the shinigami followed their war leaders, while others moved swiftly and assuredly to assist those who had been injured on the periphery of the fight between vasto lorde and half-mad Hollow. As this happened she suddenly found Ichigo crouched beside her.

"You guys all right?" he asked, glancing between them, that midnight zanpakutō still held securely in preparation to go on the offensive.

Tatsuki no longer felt angry at anyone. In fact, she was experiencing the deepest sense of gratitude in her entire life. It was this that compelled her to reach up and wrap an arm around the astonished substitute shinigami's neck before pulling him into a hug. "I thought you were dead," she muttered, and gave a shaky laugh that almost sounded like a sob. "I saw that thing, and I thought…"

She couldn't bring herself to say it. However, Ichigo seemed to know exactly what she meant. "I don't know what's going on around here, Tatsuki. But you're safe now."

His words were like a spell. The omnipresent sound of a military excursion all around them faded away into white noise that lulled away any and all misgivings. Before she knew it Tatsuki Arisawa was fast asleep.

Ichigo settled his compatriot down beside Orihime, who also lay unconscious. He rose up and cast a look over at Nanao. "Will they be out long?"

His teacher adjusted her glasses. "No. The spell will only last for an hour at most. This will just make it easier to transport them away from the fighting." She looked around, eyes narrowing in thought. In the last few minutes, a hodgepodge of Hollow signatures started swarming below their feet, as though risen up from hiding. Yet none had chosen to show themselves aboveground. It felt more like they were fleeing. In response Siamese Squad members were streaming into that big borehole to take up the pursuit. It was almost as if this campaign had ended before it even began.

Yet she took no comfort from that idea. Far more troubling was what they had come upon here. Nanao could tell the boy was rattled by his inner demon's appearance outside of himself, an occurrence she could no more explain than the presence of Ulquiorra Schiffer, who was confirmed to have been eradicated during the Autumn War. Absolutely nothing made sense.

For the time being, though, the rescue mission took paramount importance. They had recovered three of the missing humans. Hopefully the rest would prove to be relatively none the worse for their captivity here. Until such time as that proved false she and Ichigo would just have to protect these children as best they could.

Noticing a severed arm lying in the dirt, Nanao went to retrieve it. Standing up she looked back at the youth standing guard over his friends. Oddly enough, she found herself wondering what the opposite of a miracle might be.

---

Misato-sensei pointed a finger at Ryō. "You?"

"The one we just met, only she wasn't made of blood at the time."

Their teacher hummed thoughtfully to herself before rounding on Mizuiro. "And you?"

"It must have been that bony horseman Asano-san and I saved Don Kanonji from. Though if that's the case, I wonder why the Don wasn't brought along too?"

A thoughtful nod, and then finally the turn came to Tatsuki. "And you?"

"Schiffer, same as Chizuru. Twice in my case."

Their faculty club sponsor settled back and crossed her arms with a sigh. "Well, then, I still have no idea when or how I met one of those vasto lorde, but I suppose I must have! How many are there again? Uno, dos… uno, dos, tres…" Her face grew distant as she counted off on her fingers. "Cuatro…"

"Bring back a vampire? So that's really what they needed us for?" Mizuiro sounded dubious.

"Yup!" Chizuru Honsho took another sip of the warm rejuvenating beverage one of the soldiers had supplied them all with earlier. "It kinda makes sense now. I mean, if he was already dead twice over, it would take the living to, well, bring him back to life! Or… un-life, I guess."

"Western mythology holds that the blood or tears of a virgin pure can resurrect a slain vampire if sprinkled on its ashes," Ryō supplied.

"Then I don't see why they wanted me!" Keigo Asano proclaimed without an ounce of self-deprecation. Everyone pointedly ignored his comment, for which he was secretly relieved.

The seven human refugees were now comfortably ensconced in a pavilion belonging to the heads of the shinigami army. After receiving checkups during which they were given clean bills of health, they were escorted here under careful guard for the duration of the fighting. Most took a cue from Orihime and Tatsuki and simply curled up to sleep. They were all awoken a few hours later when the commanders returned. Apparently the fighting was over, which meant it was time to answer questions. And so the strands of their separate stories were laid out and woven together. Captain Neliel came in about halfway through, once more on two legs but now holding a disturbingly human arm that she was happily munching upon. No one felt comfortable asking where she got it from. Nanao's eyes did narrow upon perceiving the Sexy Santa getup, and she threw a look at Renji so sharp he cringed.

Speaking of arms, Kon had returned with Rukia around the same time, now with all his appendages firmly attached. While Nanao Ise and several other medics took over the heavily wounded Tōshirō Hitsugaya's emergency care, Lieutenant Kuchiki had insisted on seeing to the mod soul's rejuvenation herself after instructing her ward Noboru Kouki in no uncertain terms that he was not to leave the girls unattended or step foot out of this tent. The brown-skinned boy accepted his punishment with a measure of grace. Now seated cross-legged on the floor of the pavilion, he looked very pleased with himself. Arisawa and Inoue roused from magical slumber when the stories were winding down. While Orihime was too speechless at finding Ichigo alive and well, her comrade insisted that there was nothing new to offer on her end. The two of them were rather subdued, preferring to sit near one another with hands clasped and not participate much in the dialogue. After this the spirit warriors, Ichigo included, huddled together to try and puzzle out this affair. The high-schoolers and present company were allowed to observe.

"I'm not sure where to begin." Nanao appeared more discomfited than anyone could remember seeing her. She pulled up information on a pad and sat with stylus ready to begin in her self-appointed duty as record-keeper. "I suppose we should start with what is clear: that nest was created with the main purpose of attempting to reanimate Ulquiorra Schiffer. All the human children who had encountered his breed prior to this were farmed for that extract used in his recovery."

"And right off the bat the big question is: how the hell is he still alive?" Abarai cast a penetrating look over at his captain. "Taichou, can you take a guess?"

Neliel pulled a finger off her grisly meal and popped it into her mouth like candy before responding, causing virtually everyone present to wince. "I wish. Even for Hollows, there's very little known about vasto lorde or what causes them to exist. You and I were both present when he died, Renji-kun; there was nothing left but dust. Coming back from that just doesn't seem possible." Her eyes drifted over to Ichigo, who squirmed in obvious discomfort. "Though I won't put anything past some people."

His unease made her grin and she sucked on the digit happily, breaking off two more and passing them to Pesche and Dondochakka seated behind her, who gladly accepted this offering. The humans present resolutely looked anywhere else while the shinigami appeared pretty ill. Even Chizuru could not seem to muster the level of boundless adoration she normally reserved for big-breasted women and had taken to combing Orihime's hair with a fixed intensity.

Nanao sighed as she continued writing. "Our ignorance regarding them has been made quite clear. Who could have known the Espada Tia Halibel was capable of projecting herself across dimensions? And through blood, of all things."

"A few of our guys dug through the sand covering that pool," Renji offered when his captain appeared too busy blissfully eating to provide any information. "They found something that looked like a giant serpent's skeleton at the bottom." His eyes grew distant, and an uncomfortable frown twisted his face. "Actually, it reminded me of the first arrancar that I ever met. She could pop up out of water too, at least in resurección form."

Ichigo straightened up. "Hey, I just remembered. One of the vasto lorde that invaded Nirvana had a bunch of snakes growing out of her. You think maybe she pulled one of them off and left it behind so she could use its blood to come back if things went bad?" He turned a hopeful eye on Neliel as if in search of confirmation for his theory.

"Don't look at me. Halibel joined after my time. You'd have to talk to the later generation of Espada to learn more." She grimaced then, setting her dinner down in a cross manner. "Now I really wish I had been able to snare Grimmjow. If those Vaizard do catch him, there won't be anything left to answer questions!"

"It was still reckless of you to track him on your own without informing anyone else, Taichou," Nanao pointed out. "Captain Hirako and Lieutenant Yadomaru might have exercised more restraint before leaving to pursue as well. Their comrades will not be pleased if anything should befall them." The masked centurion merely huffed at this admonishment and snatched up her treat to take another ferocious bite.

"But we did learn some good news." Rukia spoke up after clearing her throat. "From what the new Segunda let slip to our human comrades, we know at least one of the other vasto lorde was killed while fighting in Nirvana. That left maybe only two of them in existence. This could explain why they put such effort into Schiffer's resurrection. Our enemies must have hoped to address a shortage of manpower. But lacking resources in Hueco Mundo, they were forced to play upon the remnants of Barragan's supporters by tricking them into granting aid."

"And now we have another vasto lorde loose in Hueco Mundo," Ichigo grunted. He then looked sharply around their group and took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm finally gonna get the elephant in the room out in the open: any ideas on how my Hollow got here?"

Nobody responded to this. A few of them couldn't even meet his gaze. "Yeah, s'what I figured," he muttered, slumping down to tap a restless finger against his knee. "Why should anything about today be easy?"

"How's this for easy, fresa: why don't we just ask that Lagrima chick?"

The focus of the group now turned on Noboru Kouki, who was sprawled lazily against a cushion. He caught Ichigo's eye and grinned in a mocking fashion. The russet-headed swordsman scowled in response; he and Noboru had not hit it off from day one. Since their first encounter he was left with the strong impression that the kid didn't care for him. Worse than this was a strange sense of unease that usually only came over him when he forgot a person's name. There was just something so damn familiar about the little punk.

Meanwhile Noboru had left off chewing the eraser of a well-worn pencil and sat upright. The kid looked quite pleased at being made the center of attention. "I mean, we got all the really solid info out of her. If we catch her again, all we have to do is say 'Ichimaru' and she'll start spewing like Cabulco volcano all over Chile!"

The war council appeared to consider this. "The extermination of the cave population is winding down," Renji crossed his arms with a frown. "If this Lagrima hasn't already been purified, that won't stay true for long."

"We can still look." This suggestion came from Kon, who had been allowed to sit with the other leaders, a fact that served to invigorate him more than any healing spell could. "At the very least we can spread the word to keep an eye out for her, or see if anyone capped a Hollow matching her description." He turned to Noboru. "What does she look like, anyway?"

"Well, like a human, actually."

Off to one side, Neliel remained absorbed in munching upon a large chunk of pale bicep.

"About six feet two inches tall," the boy continued, listing all the details he could remember. "Measurements like 25-22-27, not much to work with, really. Had long white hair…"

Nel's head tilted in thoughtful deliberation as she chewed.

"Pale skin, wearing a sort of toga…"

The chewing slowed. Behind her, both fracciōn cast uneasy glances at one another. Pesche reached forward to tap her on the shoulder, but she ignored him.

"Her mask was just two eye holes with some smaller dots running up the middle."

Nel swallowed that last bite rather abruptly. It felt difficult going down, and she glanced at her fair-skinned snack in sudden nervousness. Please, please, please don't tell me…

"Oh, and a silver chain wrapped around her hips, chest and arm!"

Light glinted off the broken links of metal attached to a bracelet. The dispirited Espada shut her mouth on a groan.

"Yeah, come to think of it, it almost looks… like…"

Quickly Neliel handed the arm back to Pesche, who took it without thinking just as everyone in the room rounded on them at once. With absolutely no trace of guilt whatsoever, she pointed a finger at her fracciōn, who stood holding the appendage uncertainly. Upon seeing their expressions he gave a violent start and flung the limb away. It landed on the carpet with a sad thump where they all proceeded to stare at it.

Ichigo lifted his head to offer the green-haired Hollow a stunned look. "Nel… you ate our informant!"

Her mask of innocence crumbled, and the beautiful cannibal sucked in a long whine before bursting into tears. "I couldn't help it! We've all been so hungry lately, it's hard having all these shinigami around and not being allowed to eat them and she was delicious! I couldn't sto-o-o-o-p!" Her explanation devolved into tears, at which point she flung herself atop Ichigo and started bawling. Everyone else remained too stunned at this turn of events.

In the ensuing distraction, Ryō casually raised her hand. "Can we go home now?"

---

Despite the medics pronouncing him out of danger, Tōshirō felt weak as a kitten when he pushed himself off the cot. His head swam the moment he found his feet. For a few seconds there was nothing that made more sense than just collapsing back onto the sheets and sleeping like the dead.

Too much had happened recently for him to succumb. Several hours passed while they worked on him. The battle, or rather the mop-up, would soon be over. That meant Viper Company would appear and shuttle her off for interrogating. If he wanted a chance to ask any questions, it would have to be now.

Wrapped in bandages, Hitsugaya managed to stumble forward and exit the private medical tent reserved for him. Two guards outside stood immediately to attention. "Captain Hitsugaya, are you well? Do you need anything?"

For a few moments he stood between them gathering his strength. "I need to speak with someone."

"We are charged with your care, sir," the other member of Heron Company declared. "Tell us who you wish to see and we'll escort them to–"

"You can't escort her. I'm going to see the prisoner." With that he moved past. For some reason he now felt twice as heavy as before. His shadow under the moon was like a lead weight with every step he took. Still he soldiered on, and the pair of attendants followed dutifully. His senses, dulled by pain and loss of reiatsu, could still pick out the person in question.

In no time at all they came upon another tent, this one ringed by a large detachment of men and women who looked markedly unfriendly. Several boasted hairdos that identified them as veterans of Tiger Company. Captain Zaraki and Lieutenant Kusajishi had arrived less late to the operation than anyone could have predicted, preceded by a select gathering of Tiger's ranks. Apparently someone had informed them of the situation even before Siamese Squad got the news and they had set out immediately to help (they still managed to get their guides lost somehow, which shouldn't have been possible). Upon getting caught up on recent events, the Kenpachi wasted no time setting off in the direction Ulquiorra Schiffer was last seen flying, eager to finish their long-ago unsettled duel. This was a great relief to Hitsugaya, partly because in his depleted condition the war-hungry madman's unleashed soul felt like it was grinding him down to powder, but mainly due to Yachiru being utterly immune to any suggestion that poking the boy-captain's wounds was not a viable means to assure his speedy recovery. That girl scared him.

Regardless of their clear devotion, the guards did not question when Tōshirō approached. They simply moved aside and allowed him to enter. Perhaps rumors had spread. Or maybe they were curious as to what might pass between the First Seat and his treacherous underling. As a precaution against eavesdropping, when he shouldered aside the drape Hitsugaya murmured a quick spell that dampened noise in the vicinity. He doubted she would be able to try anything, but if that weren't the case, a sense of soul power would be enough to alert the soldiers outside without any need for hearing.

As the tent flap fell behind him, Matsumoto Rangiku lifted her head and smiled. "C'mon in, Taichou! My door's always open."

This was not actually the case. The former lieutenant of the Gotei 13 was seated seiza inside a pyramidal cage crafted of bone and wrapped round with paper warding charms. She was only partially visible to him as a result. Shackles made of deathstone encased her hands and feet, and the air fairly hummed with additional magic seals that had been placed to prevent her from exercising any form of power. Lamps glowed to offer some illumination of the darkened cell. Their light reflected off her honey-gold hair, and caused blue eyes to twinkle. Despite her current conditions, Matsumoto still managed to look completely at ease.

For a moment her gaze drifted down to his feet, and Tōshirō thought he noticed a quick flash of a smile. Then she regarded him directly. "I'm glad you're here. I was hoping we'd get the chance to talk privately. Before Soifon started breaking my fingers, at least."

He glanced around the limited confines, feeling bone-weary and wanting nothing more than for this day to end. "Once Siamese and Tiger have confirmed the area is secure, you'll be transported to Soul Society to await trial." Having waited so long to finally meet again, it was somewhat disappointing at how dejected he felt. It made his voice sound like a sigh when he spoke next. "Before that happens, will you tell me what I can do to help you?"

One honey-colored eyebrow lifted. "You mean besides the obvious?"

Her continued gaiety produced a flash of irritation which he struggled to master. Feeling somewhat more desperate, the boy captain pressed his case. "You aided us to rescue those humans. A good many people owe you their lives. I'm willing to speak out on your behalf. But to argue effectively, I want to…"

He paused, hunting for the right words to express his feelings. Unfortunately, his emotional state was no more transparent than the woman seated before him. What could he say for sure lurked in his heart? Gratitude for the help? Anger at the betrayal? Relief at the rescue? This sort of confusion left him feeling woefully immature again. Almost dying at the Espada's hands had come on the heels of a remarkable stretch of serenity in his life. At least in terms of no one trying to kill him, that is. His outlook on life, however, had suffered, and not the least as a result of the actions taken by Matsumoto herself.

To think that she had been a traitor, one of Aizen's followers… it had struck him as a personal blow. Not just because she was his own lieutenant, but also owing to the fact that he… valued her. Even admired her. She was a person who had done more than make a place for herself in the world, the same one that had spurned him since his earliest days. Rangiku Matsumoto forced the world to accept her. Through simple demonstration of wit and strength, care and delight. She was an inspiration to him, even though he couldn't begin to understand her. And nothing had ever proven enough to break Matsumoto. How many of his fellow shinigami held this golden goddess in the highest regard? How much had her loss, more than even the defection of three captains, cost them in terms of morale? Am I crazy to think she represented more in our society than even a division head?

"Looks like someone could use a hug!"

Frowning, he brought himself back to the present. "Don't underestimate the seriousness of your situation, Matsumoto. I might be the only friend you have left in Soul Society. We both know how afraid they are of more treachery, and why. You shouldn't discount that. Now is the time for you to explain your actions. Based on what you say, I might be able to save your life."

She gave an exaggerated gasp, eyes lighting up with insincere adoration. "What an honor! The Legendary Guardian himself, taking time out from his busy schedule thwarting evil to come to my rescue!" A wickedly mischievous smirk caused her face to glow. "That's it, you are definitely getting a boob-squeeze out of this!"

He almost wanted to shout at her to stop acting so foolish. "Matsumoto…"

"Which do you prefer, right or left?" She began to inspect her own bodice with a critical air, biting pink candy-colored lips. "Ummm, I think Lefty is feeling a little more bouncy today than usual. Hang on, let me check." True to form, Rangiku proceeded to hop up and down.

A real pain was starting to develop in his temple. "Matsumoto, you–"

"Wait, wait, I think Righty's catching up! Can you time them for me? What do you think, Captain?"

I believe they show equal buoyancy.

And just like that, he lost his cool.

"MATSUMOTO!"

She blinked at his bark, coming to a rest. And then an actual, honest-to-goodness smile lit her face.

"There's my little champion! I missed that!" she proclaimed, looking as happy as if she wasn't imprisoned. "You might not believe this, Captain, but you are one of the best things to ever happen to me! I looked forward to every day we worked together!"

He grimaced. "I never–"

"Which is why it really hurts that you don't respect me."

Stricken, Hitsugaya's head jerked up, a protest dying on his lips. The smile had gone so fast it might never have existed. Now for the first time Matsumoto looked serious, and it took him aback. Her expression clearly implied that he was the disappointing one here, not her.

"I was a shinigami long prior to when we met," she continued. "People in the old Gotei 13 didn't always treat me very kindly. A few stuck to words, while others dared to take it even further. And maybe some of them were bad enough that they deserved to be taught a little lesson."

Her words sent an involuntary shiver up his spine. 'And do you know what happened THEN, Hitsugaya?' Frantically he pulled himself away from that memory and the awful things he knew about another woman once counted as his most surest friend. Matsumoto was no Momo.

Is that what you truly believe?

"When that was the case, I made damn sure they got the message about me."

The jab from Hyōrinmaru almost made him miss what she said next. Blue eyes had narrowed, now far less charming and more menacing as a result. Hitsugaya was sweating, the heat from the lamps and his injuries causing him to become lightheaded. Again he felt unaccountably heavy for some reason.

Rangiku continued without noticing. "I never killed anybody because of it, mind. Sometimes I laughed it off, and other times saw certain people go home limping or inform their superiors that they couldn't come in to work due to 'illness'. I served loyally, not blindly. Soul Society had been rotten for ages before you or I were born. The people we were supposed to be protecting were scared of us, and not without cause. They deserved better than the treatment Yamamoto and the Central 46 bestowed on them. Now I hear that things are getting better. A lot more smiles on your side of the Great Beyond. That's good! Shows you're making progress."

The beautiful woman leaned forward slowly. Hands fastened behind her back, on her knees, and still, she gave off the impression of a mountain lion about to pounce. It was alarming, to say the least, so that he almost found himself calling for the guards.

"But don't think that's the worst to come. Aizen wants you dead. He'll never stop trying to be free. And when he does, he's coming after you. Don't ask me why, but when that happens, do you really believe that you'll be able to stop him, O Great Guardian? Do you think meditating and engaging in duels with people who treat you like a precious little prince will be enough to prepare you for when that omnipotent lunatic puts his sword to your throat?"

Suspicion cut through him even as he bristled at the slight. How did she know about Byakuya's teachings? Was it just an inspired guess? This got him talking again. "What do you want to say, Matsumoto?"

She settled back. After a few seconds of keen consideration, the prisoner gave a shrug, head dropping to one side. "If you want to turn me over to Lord-Commander Kuchiki to be judged, be my guest. I wouldn't mind a trial. Maybe then we can see how far Soul Society has really come. Because I'm not a traitor. And if evidence should happen to turn up that would prove those people I killed were not virtuous death gods devoted to justice and decency, but double agents working for the King of Hueco Mundo, who in some cases had actually committed murders at his behest…" Rangiku flipped her mass of exotic hair around like a rope to dangle off one shoulder, smiling coyly at him the whole while. "Well, I certainly hope that's taken into consideration when they decide on how to execute me."

Tōshirō stared.

"Let me go, Captain." Her smile had turned sharp and seductive. It fairly dripped with ill intentions. But in a strange way, this only served to heighten her beauty, making his heart race in a way that was completely new to him. "You need me out there, to see and do the things that your honorable new Gotei 7 won't. If you really expect to come out on top when Aizen returns, it'll be because you had someone who didn't treat you like a child, and was willing to push you past what everyone thought was safe. So please," and here her voice took on a more urgent, open cadence, "for your own sake, Captain, if no one else's, I'm asking you to let me go."

They looked at one another, while the candles flickered and winds outside caused the tent flaps to rustle. It was just the two of them there. Tōshirō found that he was in a situation which had never occurred to him before he walked into this room. He could free her. Or condemn her. The decision was his, and it would come as a result of the level of trust he placed in this mysterious woman, one who had teased and beguiled him, but also honored and defended him, from the first day they met.

It felt hard to breathe. And yet at the same time, that sensation of heaviness had quite suddenly lifted, allowing him to stand firm and tall once again. His destiny might be decided this very night, and all as a result of the decision he made right now.

Firm in that knowledge, he made his choice.

"Bakudō #1: Sai!"

The voice hissed in his ear, and Hitsugaya hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. Magic encased both hands firmly behind his back, keeping him in a bowed position with his chin in the sand. Before he could even draw breath to speak…

"Bakudō #69: Silver Tongue Striking Asp."

… the second spell wrapped around his throat. And with that, he was completely bound.

Too shocked to struggle, the defeated youth looked up to find Matsumoto regarding him with a somewhat dissatisfied air. Her head rose to look behind him. "You know, he was about to give me an answer."

"Didn't like how much time it was takin' him. 'Sides, dinner's getting cold, and there's sand in my shoes."

There was the sound of a sword being drawn. Moments later the bindings around Matsumoto had fallen to pieces. After this a pair of shoes came into Hitsugaya's field of view, and the door to her cell opened. A quick sweep of the blade split the shackles that held her. Standing up, she accepted the sheathed zanpakutō held out to her.

"Thought you might be missin' this," Gin Ichimaru supplied with a grin.

"Can't get enough of messing with people, can you?" she smiled tartly back.

"Time to split." With that he looked down at the boy imprisoned at their feet. Though unable to speak, Hitsugaya's slit-pupil eyes flared with an icy fury that needed no words. The once-captain of Division Three only smirked at the chilly promise spelled out in those sea-green depths. "Nice to see you 'gain, Captain Hitsugaya. Keep yer head up now!"

A white silk scarf appeared in his fingers. It swiftly spun out to unbelievable lengths that twined about both Gin and Rangiku.

As the teleportation charm encased her in its coils, the beautiful blonde gazed down somewhat sadly at her humbled hero. "Think it over, Taichou." And she blew him a kiss.

The next second there was a rush of air before they both simply vanished. Shouting followed as confused guards swarmed in upon being alerted by the vanishing spell. Everyone wanted an explanation even while Tōshirō felt the weight of the restraints being drawn off him.

When he passed out a few seconds later, it was almost a relief.

---

Not for the first time, Kon peered nervously over at the large tent reserved for the captain of Siamese. Rukia had to remain with the other officers to handle Viper Squad's representatives. Although truth be told, he feared this was more of an interrogation than anything else. Heads would roll for the escape of Rangiku Matsumoto, at least the way some people told it. Good thing he had absolutely nothing to do with that. But what about Nee-san?

"They wouldn't do anything to her, would they?" he blurted out after a while.

"Just sit down, man, you're making me nervous." Despite his words, Noboru managed to look remarkably sanguine as he stretched out on his side. The two of them were settled in by a brazier whose flames made the white sands of Hueco Mundo look almost inviting. "Ba-san's not the one who let the lady go, so we've got nothing to worry about. That kid's still passed out, and they need something to bring back to their boss or she'll chew their faces off, that's all. Tranquilo, man, tranquilo."

"Look who's calling who a kid," the mod retorted as he paced back and forth, his shadow dancing across the smooth sandy sea. Noboru just sighed and used a gnarled stick he had produced from nowhere to draw little rings with the fire that sizzled briefly before winking out. Not twenty yards away some sorcerers from several squads were busy constructing the gateway that would transport them all home, where a hero's welcome would surely await. But in his head that scene had always included Nee-san right there with him. Or maybe held protectively in his arms. "Oh, Kon," she would say, mouth quivering, eyes flickering with uncertainty. "I… I never knew you were so strong! You were like a wild beast out there!"

"It's nothing, Nee-san," he replies gallantly, tossing his head back and holding her a little closer to dispel any shivering. "There's no need for you to be afraid. I know how to control my power." He then turns to regard her squarely, a confident smile on his face that makes her blush from a wealth of new emotions surging in her breast. "I'll be more than happy to show it to you… later on."

"Kon!" she whispers, eyes flying wide before turning her head away. "I want… to show you too." She hops lightly down to stand facing away from him, taking a deep breath and crossing both arms over her chest to grip her shoulders.

Then slowly, she begins to slide the fabric of her uniform down.

Kon's heart is racing. As the smooth sculpted shoulders are revealed, he feels the blood surging in his cheeks. The curve of her back comes into view next, tightly muscled like a gymnast's; his arousal grows. Down to her hips, and when she looks back over her shoulder at him, the warm fulfilling love on her face is so gentle it makes him doubt his sanity. He reaches for her; she does not move away. Can it be…?

His fingers brush tenderly over supple pink skin, enough to feel her trembling. So smooth and firm, like polished marble that by its very nature begs to be touched. A shuddering sigh leaves her lips, and as he takes hold of her, she gives a soft cry of, "What do you think you're doing?"

Wait… what?

Somebody snapped their fingers in front of his face, causing him to blink. Upon this rude awakening he found himself faced with a firmly clothed and very real Rukia. While he gazed at her in momentary befuddlement she glanced over at the boy. "I want to speak to you both."

Noboru hopped up gracefully enough, but there was now a distinct sense of trepidation about him. Like a chipmunk tensing in preparation of flight. He fiddled with his stick while squirming from one foot to another. "O-ba-san, your friends were in trouble, I only wanted to help! I can take care of myself, you know that, so you don't have to worry about me."

The look on her face right then robbed Kon of any warmth left over from his lingering daydream. As he wondered what horrible fate was about to befall them, the tiny woman suddenly turned and walked over to stand before her other anxious employee. Face to face like that, Kon saw she stood only a few inches taller than the kid. He also saw what was coming next, and winced in commiseration.

It reminded him of someone reaching up to pluck a leaf from a tree. No hurry, no effort. Rukia did not move with any visible urgency when her arm came up and she firmly slapped herself.

The sound was harsh, loud, and it made Kon jump. "Nee-san!" he cried, about to run forward, but she held up a hand to forestall him. Noboru had flinched in preparation of being hit. The realization that this was not the case must have come as more of a shock, though it did not seem to be an improvement to judge by his reaction. The boy's face went slack with disbelief as he stared at his boss' slowly reddening cheek.

"Do I deserve another, Noboru?"

She kept her voice soft. Rukia didn't even sound angry. But the hurt was there, in the way she spoke, and the way she stood.

When Noboru only continued to gape at her as if uncertain what to believe anymore, her arm rose again without hesitation. And that got a response. "NO!" The lad lunged forward to grab Rukia's wrist with both hands. Tears gathered in his eyes, beseeching her to stop. "Don't…" he sobbed. "Don't do that! I'm sorry, ba-san, you didn't do anything wrong, it was all my fault! Please don't be mad, I'm really sorry! I didn't mean anything by it, please…"

He was breathing in and out too hard now for words to come. In response she took a step forward to embrace him. Noboru grabbed hold like he would never let go, sobbing fiercely into her shoulder.

"Don't make me grieve for any more lost loved ones, Noboru," Kon heard her murmur. In response the trembling young soul only wept all the harder. Watching the two of them there, holding on to one another and whispering tenderly, he couldn't tear his eyes away. What am I seeing here? It's like… real. Not that stuff that was going on in my head right before all this happened. That was fake on every level compared to something like this.

This is what I want. Right here. The real deal. This is love.

It hurt. He could feel it. An ache in his throat, like he wanted to swallow and couldn't quite manage it. Kon began weeping too. I want this. I need this! I want to go to someone and hold them and have them hold me and be afraid for them and cry my eyes out and know that they'll never let me go because they love me. I want to know that in my bones! That's… what I WANT!

I want to know somebody loves me.

A memory came back then that he hadn't thought of for a while. A warm hand encasing him, lifting him up to hold and examine. The concern that came with that contact was something he had never experienced before. It was the first touch of gentleness he ever knew.

Rukia and Noboru had finally parted. She spoke something in his ear, to which the youth nodded. Then the graceful princess tousled his hair a bit and pointed off towards the camp. He smiled at her, still crying a little, and nodded. They hugged again for a brief intense second. A moment later the boy went trotting off, wiping his face as he got closer to other people so that none would see.

Now Kon was alone with Rukia. When she turned to look at him, feeling her eyes upon him, he knew it had to be said.

"I love you, Rukia-san."

The words were neither bold nor passionate. They were altogether nothing like what he had always imagined them sounding like. But it meant more this way, because it felt honest about what had just shaken him down to his soul.

"I know," she replied.

"I'm not just a mod soul," he continued quickly without even a chance to think. "I'm a real person now! And I want so much for you to love me back because I feel like that's the only way I can really show you how much you mean to me! I love you and I think I always will, even if you are with Ichigo. Because it's who you are that I love. That's never going to change. You mean everything to me! I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy, I just wish…!"

A lump rose in his throat. He closed his eyes, knees wobbling and tears pushing past his eyelids. "I wish you would give me a chance!" Kon finally burst out, and dropped to his knees with hands pressed to his face to hide from he knew not what.

His breath came in shaky gasps as the sobs kept emerging. It was the most heaven-sent blessing when he felt her crouch down and place her arms around him. Overwhelmed, the mod could only hold still, savoring this moment. He did not dare move for fear of losing it.

"You make me happy, Kon."

Her voice sent the most wonderful feeling up and down his spine, so that he shuddered.

"From the beginning I was glad to have met you," she pressed on. "You were so young, and so completely open with your feelings. It reminded me of the boys I grew up with. They were such a pack of fools, it was sometimes all I could do just to keep them from rushing off and getting hurt. But I loved every one of them dearly. Their deaths made me feel so alone. Each meant one less person I cared for in the world, one less heart I could trust. I didn't have many friends to start with, which made it hurt all the more. I became a death god partly because I wanted to stop feeling like I might lose it all at any given moment. I wanted my love to never die again. I was so stupid it never even occurred to me: it wasn't just about keeping my loved ones alive. Being here, in this world, means finding new people I want to love."

He heard the rustle of her robes as she bent down and felt her soothing breath in his ear. "Kon… if I should one day find I've fallen in love with you, rest assured, I won't hesitate to tell you."

It felt better than he could have hoped. Gasping for air, he managed to choke out, "Thank… you."

He would have preferred to stay like this for much longer, in perhaps the single greatest moment he had ever known. Eventually, though, Rukia sat back. After a while, still trembling from the experience, he did the same. They looked at one another for a bit. Then the dainty lieutenant stood up. He followed suit, and they began to walk back towards the center of camp.

"So, Nee-san," Kon spoke up after a while. "Is everything taken care of?"

"For now." Rukia tugged on gloves as she walked, adjusting the sword swinging at her hip. "The Viper representatives were understandably displeased at Rangiku's escape. We are fortunate the lieutenant of that crew seems more tolerant of failure than could be said for his captain." She sighed. "I fear, however, that Captain Kotetsu may have choice words for me when this is done."

"I wish I could help," he offered.

"You don't have to do everything. But what you did was more than enough to earn my thanks." She reached up to give his arm a tender pat. "I'm glad to have you on our side."

Kon coughed abashedly. A daring took over him completely unlike his usual up-front ardor. "You know, Nee-san, if you really want to thank me, there is a favor I'd like to ask for when we get back."

"And that would be?"

She sounded interested, which thrilled Kon immensely. There really was nothing like catching the attention of the person you loved. "Did you ever see 'An Officer and a Gentleman', by any chance?"

The confusion on her face made his day.

---

They would all be heading back soon. Ichigo knew that. Maybe it would have been better to wait until things had settled down before trying something like this. But not knowing was driving him crazy. He needed an explanation now, and there was only one way to get it. Rukia already explained what had been going on with Orihime and Tatsuki of late. They had seen it in their dreams. So there really wasn't any good reason to hold off. Waiting might actually see someone get hurt.

Sitting on the floor of a deserted tent, he breathed in and exhaled out. Zangetsu lay in his lap in sealed form. He rested his fingers on the great living blade, feeling its warmth as a part of himself without question. Nanao was right outside if anything went wrong.

I am watching over you.

Thanks, jii-san.

So assured, he went inside, to his inner world.

The great glass skyscrapers still stretched all around in their vertical misalignment. Oftentimes he had wondered what such an odd display might have to say about his soul. But now was not the time for introspection. It wasn't raining. That was a good sign.

"Looking for me, Your Highness?"

As expected, there was no need to look far. When he turned around, the Hollow stood behind him with hands on its hips. Smiling, confident, this disturbing reflection of himself. Ichigo studied it for a brief time. Observing nothing out of the ordinary, he got right to the point. "How did you get out?"

"Maybe you're not as in control of yourself as you like to think," the Hollow countered.

It was trying to rile him up. One of the nice things about their relationship, however, was that all Ichigo had to remember was that he was basically talking to himself here. And he knew how he thought better than anyone.

"Bullshit," he offered bluntly. "If you were capable of something like this before, you would have done it. Holding back isn't your style."

The creature merely chuckled in response. It then began to walk slowly around him, hands stuffed in the pockets of its uniform. He did not move in response. Ichigo kept very still. It wanted him to know, in some small way. Wouldn't take long before the silence got to it.

"You know…"

There we go.

"… I sometimes wonder what your loved ones would do if they had to face me. I'm not just any old Hollow, after all. I'm their precious friend. They'd probably try to capture me at first. But then, after I killed the first of them…"

Ichigo's fists tightened involuntarily.

"…well, who could say? They might just chop me to bits and only stop to grieve later. What do you think, King?"

No response.

"You know I'll get loose eventually, right?" Its voice came from very close. When it moved back into view, the Hollow looked deadly serious. Not even smiling anymore. "The only question is, who goes first? Which of your family has to lose their life before anyone else?"

He looked at it straight on. There was no expression evident on his face. The Hollow's eyes narrowed slightly upon observing this but it continued prowling about him.

"How does that make you feel, King? To know that you might wake up one morning and find yourself standing by Yuzu's bed, and there's blood on your hands. You don't know how it got there, but you recognize where it came from, because when you look down you'll see what's left of her. And Karin… where's her head? Body's there, but the head… oh, wait, here it is, I'm holding it by the hair! And–"

"So you don't know when it's going to happen next, huh?"

Behind him, he heard the Hollow pause.

"All right." Ichigo crossed his arms and gazed down, considering. "Then that means you don't decide when you get out. Somebody else does. You're on a new leash, aren't you?"

A growl came from its throat.

Ichigo gave a slow thoughtful nod. He really did know how it thought. There was nothing worse than having to take orders from other people without being allowed any input. That plain sucked.

"So the horse got himself a new rider. They crack the whip and you say, 'How high?' Could it be a spell, like the one my old shinigami substitute badge put on us? That narrows down the list of suspects. But what's its range? Clearly you weren't ready to come back during the fight with Ulquiorra, judging by the look on your face."

The growl became a full-blown snarl. "Your family is dead, King! When I–"

"And maybe you can't go anywhere you want, either. Otherwise why not come after my family before now? Only when these guys popped up into Hueco Mundo did you give it a shot. So from that I can infer you're stuck moping around there, or just left to haunting their dreams like a sad little ghost. Thanks, that's good to know."

The silence behind him was pregnant with threat.

"Like a tiny dog whimpering on its chain in the yard, wishing somebody would come play with it." He sighed and shook his head then. "I feel your pain. I really do, you know?"

The murderous intent was real. And when he felt it tense to spring, Ichigo was already halfway through the cantrip.

"Bakudō#1: Sai."

A shriek of thwarted rage rang throughout his inner world. The glass windows trembled as if in an earthquake, only to quickly subside. Ichigo gave their surroundings a measuring stare.

When he finally consented to turn around, the Hollow was on its knees, arms bound behind its back and head pressed to the floor. Mad orange eyes darted about in an attempt to focus on him. He could actually see the muscles straining in its neck and arms as it fought with all its might to break free. Time and again it doubled and redoubled its efforts, hissing and foaming at the mouth. It looked like it might tear itself apart in trying.

When the spell did not budge an inch, the Hollow finally sagged panting in its place. It managed to crane one disbelieving eye up. Before it Zangetsu now stood at Ichigo's side, tinted shades catching the light as he studied their fallen counterpart. Both of the victors wore an eerily similar look of flat disinterest. The two of them watched the beast as it lay winded and defeated.

"Control," the spiky-headed sorcerer affirmed. "Guess kidō spells are pretty useful after all."

I concur.

The master of this domain swept his gaze around in satisfaction. There was now a small smirk firmly planted on his face. "Well, I think I got everything I can out of him for now. We can deal with the rest when it comes. I'm heading back."

About to turn away, Kurosaki hesitated. Without looking at either of them, he said, "We'll beat this, guys. You and me, whatever they try to do to us. I'm going to win. And you're along for the ride…" He cast a glance at the humbled Hollow. "Whether you like it or not."

Zangetsu bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment. Ichigo Kurosaki then faded from his inner world, leaving the two entities alone together. Neither of them moved.

A short time passed.

"Leave me alone."

Zangetsu did not stir.

You are never alone in this fight, my brother.

Beside him, the Hollow began to cry. Zangetsu remained patiently beside it until it was done. Then they talked.

---

"YOU SET HIM FREE!"

Wrapped in his cloak, the Vaizard pointed a trembling furious finger upwards. Before him crouched Cernunnos. The great bull-headed entity was squatted on its scaled haunches, watching its irate ally with no hint of concern. Behind it the Wild Hunt howled across the slopes of Hueco Mundo. Their insane cries carried even over the roaring wind that prevailed this close to the sandstorm signifying the border of the dead zone.

"I know it was you!" the masked warrior continued. "He couldn't have broken the chain on his own! That's not possible! Now Lagrima's dead with all her forces, and we've lost communication with Nirvana! Why did you do it? Why?!"

His arm dropped back to his side. The Hunt Master offered no explanation. It simply shifted its great head to one side, lifeless yellow eyes fixated distractedly on some point far off in the horizon. He did not fail to notice, however, that some of the other members of the Hunt were drawing closer, as though aroused by his desperate fear. Mad they might be, but there was clear intent to their movement. The Vaizard felt himself beginning to sweat. And still Cernunnos made no move at all.

Watch out, King, they might attack.

Be quiet.

"We need one another," he affirmed, attempting to sound more confident than he felt. "You, me and him. Our goals are the same! There's no point getting in each other's way like this. If you want to be free…"

There's more of them drawing closer! Get out of here! Now!

Damn you, let me think!

"… then you can't do anything that might expose me. I'm the one giving the orders here. You will do as I say."

They're all around us.

It was true; more of its pack-mates were converging on their position. The Vaizard felt a cold shiver of distress through his bones. The words of his inner Hollow rang at the back of his skull without stop, feeding his fears, preying on his insecurities. I can't stay here much longer, he thought. She'll start to come around soon, or she might be in danger like that. But I have to figure out what went wrong before I–

A chilling howl sounded nearby. And right then…

LOOK OUT!

…Cernunnos' head swung about, yellow eyes flashing.

The Vaizard emitted a scream that became a Cero before he even had time to think. The blast left his throat and tore into the Hunt Master's massive shoulder, drawing an explosion of blood. They both stumbled backwards, him aghast, Cernunnos clutching its injury. The Huge Hollow made no further move, simply sat still as stone watching him, the ichor running in black streams down its arm.

Before he could react to explain or defend his actions in any way, another member of the Hunt gave an excited hiss and leapt forward to sink its teeth into Cernunnos' side.

The antlered king lashed out to grip its rebellious follower by the mask with great pale simian hands. It gave a mighty twist that snapped the Gillian's neck, causing limbs to flap and flail like a black-clad scarecrow. Even as it did, however, a smaller representative of the Hunt took this opportunity to alight upon its master's back. There it sank teeth and claws in, gouging and tearing into Cernunnos' disease-pitted flesh. The Hunt Master reached back and crushed it in one massive fist as though smashing an ant.

Then with a weird warbling cry that seemed to emerge from every throat, the Hunt descended. In a storm of savagery they swarmed over their leader. The horned behemoth fought back, smashing and striking without a sound. Scraps of its stinking matted pelt were torn out and blood flowed freely.

Aghast, the Vaizard turned and fled from the chaos. He ran without any thought other than to escape. Only once did he dare look back to see if anything was pursuing him, in time to catch a glimpse of Cernunnos as it was pulled down beneath the tide of insane death-dealers who fell upon their former leader with the gleeful ferocity of a feeding frenzy. One of them came up with a great white arm clenched triumphantly in its jaws.

His heart was beating madly as he ran from that slaughter. In time it was lost to view behind him. What happened? What do I tell them now? I don't understand! How could everything go so wrong so quickly?

Eventually his furious heartbeat subsided. He kept on course back to where he had left his partner. The only thing that could make this any worse would be if some harm had befallen her while he was gone. There would be no way to explain it to the others. They hunted in pairs now to make sure none could be taken unawares. His absence would not go unremarked.

Fortune had not completely abandoned him. When he returned to their redoubt she remained as he had left her, upright and gazing blankly off to the horizon.

Failure.

His Hollow's mocking voice receded as he removed the mask. The cloak had been discarded. He took up position off to one side of her in the same spot when he first left. No evidence remained. Secure in this belief, he sent a spell through the gleaming cord that connected them, the line briefly coming into view before fading back into obscurity. It was so dangerous to use the connection like this. But there had been no better alternative at the time.

A moment later she blinked, losing that half-awake look from before. Not even half an hour had passed, but no change was evident in the grim confines of Hueco Mundo to reveal this lost time. Quickly he took up the conversation. "He could stand to take some cooking lessons. We ate better back in the mortal realm." Then he paused, as if noticing her reaction. "Everything okay? You're looking a little woozy."

"Nothing. All this talk of food's making me hungry, that's all." She tramped across the dunes ahead of him without pause. "Let's go. The trail's getting cold."

"Lead the way."

The two Vaizard then resumed their hunt.

---

It was well past 8 o'clock in the evening when Karin finally received word. She had insisted on staying at the Usagi Shoten even after closing. Ichi-nii called to make sure she was all right before heading out himself. Her father knew. Everyone who needed to be contacted had been. Which just left waiting. And worrying. Trying to help customers had kept her from getting preoccupied, but after the third one to leave in a huff after what she considered perfectly reasonable remarks, Ganju had relegated her to backroom detail. Which, incidentally, made for a lot of time to brood. Patience did not come easily to Karin.

She was sitting on the floor leafing idly through a crate of plastic-wrapped tankobon of questionable content when that weird kid Jinta stuck his head in the door. "Hey, you! Ururu says to tell you they're coming back!"

Immediately she was on her feet and shoving past him into the hallway. The bratty loudmouth shouted something pissy as she took off towards the cellar. Mahana Natsui and Michiru Ohgawa were ahead of her dressed in the outdated kimonos and wooden sandals that had been scrounged up for their jobs as hostesses, still walking somewhat slow and awkward as a result. Without a word of greeting the anxious preteen whipped by the older girls and through the screen doors, barreling down the wooden steps leading into that inscrutable underground rock garden with little regard for her own safety.

Upon reaching the same spot as before Karin found precious little had changed. The two pillars remained as they were, that weird oil-puddle distortion still evident between them. Standing nearby was Ururu Tsumugiya, hands clasped before her and perpetually dispirited eyes trained on the ground. Her head rose a bit to give Karin a small nod before going back to studying her shoes. "They're on the way," was all she said before falling silent once again.

Somewhat out of breath, the soccer star took to pacing back and forth before the open portal. Her restlessness was not relieved as time went on. Soon enough Michiru and Mahana had caught up, followed by the burly Ganju now hauling a much more animated Don Kanonji.

"… from your back to replace what your head has lost!" the Don gabbled in typical high excitement. "The charm will also grant you thrice the stamina of an ordinary mortal!"

"I am not bald, you… charlatan!" Ganju rubbed the bandana on his head self-consciously. He had obviously failed to appreciate just how off-the-wall Kanonji could be when he offered to look after him. "This cap is donned as my symbol of defiance to a callow world, not to hide any personal shortcomings! The men of Shiba do not shun the truth!"

"Tell me, do your prodigious nose hairs have any significance among the royalty of the afterlife?"

A sudden shifting in the fabric of the gateway caused Karin to tense. "Shut up already!" she snapped over one shoulder, quickly turning back around. "I think they're here."

Let everyone be all right, she offered in fervent prayer to whatever deity might watch over the likes of them. I'll give up soccer if I have to, I'll even wear a dress to school. Yuzu does, so nothing to it. Just bring them back home safe.

The gods heard her. But at the same time, they apparently couldn't resist throwing a curveball her way. The first person to come through was Misato Ochi. "Hi, Kurosaki-chan!" she sparkled merrily as she trotted by with an unfamiliar shinigami close behind. "Don't mind me," the new guy advised upon catching her looking at him oddly, rubbing his moustache and flinching when the schoolteacher glanced in his direction. As he scuttled to catch up Keigo Asano emerged to blink in the subterranean sunlight, followed by Mizuiro Keigo and Kunieda Ryō, who was wearing a boy's jacket. Both the fresh-faced charmer and the slender bibliophile spared them hardly a glance before whipping out their respective cell phones.

"Hey, babe. Mizu-mizu here! Listen, I'll be a little late, so why not forget dinner and slip into something more…"

"Hizuki? It's me. Bring the car around. The market district, I'll meet you at…"

They moved off to continue their conversations. Keigo merely said, "Hey, Karin-chan," and went on by. She gave a grunt of acknowledgement while continuing to peer hopefully behind him. Surging hope was followed by rapid disappointment as the next to appear turned out to be Chizuru Honsho. "Green isn't my color anyway, you know? I much prefer red!" she affirmed to Tatsuki Arisawa, who simply grumbled and continued to interpose herself between the other redhead, Orihime Inoue.

This last refugee was remarkably more subdued than usual. She hardly noticed the argument heating up at her side, and Karin felt worried at the clear anguish etched into the lovely teenager's face. As if sensing her distress, Orihime spotted the younger girl and perked up immediately, waving hello even as her friends hustled her on by. Karin observed this brief improvement did not last long as Orihime soon returned to a state of uncharacteristic despondence. She could only hope it did not mean something awful had happened.

Once more the gods took note of her distress. And yet again, they acted to alleviate it in the most bizarre manner possible.

A sense of someone else joining them caused Karin to leave off any further examinations and quickly spin about, heart swelling with anticipation. Before her disbelieving eyes, Kon emerged to come to a halt right before her. He caught Karin's eye, and beamed exuberantly. A monkey perched on his shoulder also offered a rather cheeky grin. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with him. Quite the opposite, in fact. For there in Kon's arms was none other than Rukia Kuchiki, held like a bride by her groom with hands laced behind his neck, only wearing the black outfit of a shinigami as opposed to a traditional white wedding dress. Karin gaped at this completely unexpected occurrence, and she was not the only one.

"Tenchou!" Ganju Shiba gasped. "What… I mean, are you… when did you…?"

"Hello, Ganju-san," Rukia greeted her employee. She then spotted Karin thunderstruck before them. "Karin-chan. It's good to see you safe." Upon getting no response except tongue-tied bewilderment, the shinigami lady turned back to her lanky attendant. "Kon, I think that will do for now."

"Just another minute, Nee-san," he insisted, stepping quickly forward. "I need to make my 'triumphant hero' procession. Please?"

A measuring look was followed by a sigh from the owner of the shop. "Proceed, then. The others are coming through."

"Sweet!" With Rukia held gallantly to his chest Kon then swept by Karin at a regal pace, winking down at her as he did. "Psst! See, Karin? Toldja I could do it!"

He looked so proud she really couldn't think of anything much to say, except, "Make sure Ichi-nii never finds out."

"He already knows," a familiar voice grumbled. This time when she turned the girl was immensely relieved to see her brother Ichigo slouching into the barren landscape with hands stuffed in his robes and that huge kitchen knife slung over his back. He patted his sister's head as he went by, his frustrated scowl easing somewhat before turning back to Kon strutting like a peacock past everyone else. 'Grumpy' did not do it justice. Oddly enough, it made her so relieved to see that even the appearance of the Dragon Lady, Nanao Ise, couldn't rain on her parade.

Moments later the gate to Hueco Mundo was shut. The small party gathered around, milling and buzzing slightly. Rukia took this time to hop down from her savior's arms. His look of dejection at the loss made Karin feel sorry for him, but the petite shinigami was already speaking.

"You're all welcome to stay here until transportation can be arranged back to your homes. As stated before, you will each be assigned a two-person detail from the Gotei 7 until our scientists have determined how to remove the vasto lorde taint from your bodies. They will be largely inconspicuous, so you needn't fear this extra security interfering with your daily lives. Hopefully it will not take long to synthesize a solution. Until then we will safeguard those under our protection. Now, let us see about getting you all something to eat. Ganju-san?"

"Right away, ma'am!" Her eager employee beckoned back towards the stairs leading to the surface. The other two girls who had been left behind were already plying their classmates for information on what transpired in the other dimension. Some were only too eager to offer explanations, while others turned over the conversation to those more inclined. As the party trooped off Karin noticed Ichigo hurry to catch up with Rukia, and they began to converse in urgent tones. She also spied how Kon watched their interchange anxiously, like he wanted nothing more than to interrupt.

Deciding on something, she trotted over and tugged his elbow. When he looked down, Kon found a big grin being directed his way. "So you saved everybody, huh?"

"Well…" He glanced off towards where the royal maiden and her consort had begun to move in pursuit of everyone else. "I mean, some other folks helped, but…" Kon sniffed and crossed both arms over his chest in a superior fashion. "Yeah. I suppose it wouldn't be too big a stretch to say I saved the day!"

The small monkey seized this opportunity to leap off his shoulder and land on Karin's. It chattered musically before looping its tail around her neck and snuggling close for security. She laughed and tousled the friendly critter's fur before taking Kon by the hand. "Well, are you gonna tell me about it or not?"

In response the mod soul made a rather stern face at the boisterous primate hugging her neck, who responded by baring its teeth at him in a not altogether friendly fashion. Shaking his head ruefully, Kon shrugged and led the way forward. "Okay. Let me start off by saying that whatever anybody else says, I kicked major butt today! Let's see, where to begin? Oh, I know! This new suit of mine has some pretty sweet enhancements, not the least of which…!"

---

Dinner turned out to be take-out food, but none of them complained. Partly because nobody stayed long enough to call it a real meal. Orihime kept apologizing for what happened in Hueco Mundo until Tatsuki finally dragged her off with Ganju in tow. Rukia had assigned members of the Usagi Shoten to act as bodyguards for anyone who left. Some lady came and picked up Mizuiro, who offered them all a ride they politely declined. He just shrugged and smiled before promising to see them at school tomorrow. The presence of dour little Ururu in the car was explained away as being his cousin, a lie which the lady accepted without complaint.

The Kurosaki siblings left shortly thereafter, needing no extra security, and Mahana demanded Ochi-sensei accompany her home to get more details about what went on. "Great job, everybody!" their homeroom teacher declared before leaving. "Very productive meeting today. I hereby declare this session of the Karakura Otherwordly Paranormal Society to be officially over." The nervous ghost with the moustache went with them.

It was past nine, but the sun had yet to set completely. A rosy palette painted the heavens above in shades of pink and purple. As they sat on the porch of the Usagi Shoten, Michiru Ohgawa examined what, including herself, made up the leftovers. Kon lay taking a well-deserved nap on the porch with legs thrown out and a small monkey curled up on his stomach. Where it came from was anybody's guess. Don Kanonji still stuck around to no one's surprise. Although he had offered to give them all a lift in his limo, for some reason Ichigo insisted he stay, claiming it was for the sake of protecting the remainder of their group. The Don was overjoyed at this apparent display of trust, but Michiru felt there had been something disturbing about the way Kurosaki smiled then. She recalled he had made some phone calls earlier that no one else commented on.

What also seemed odd was that Keigo hadn't left either. And for some reason neither did Ryō. The small girl considered this. It hadn't escaped her attention that Kunieda was wearing Keigo's jacket. Could it be there might be something going on between them? Studying both her classmates, she decided that Asano looked more nervous than usual. Ryō just looked… well, like Ryō. Tall and dissatisfied. Mustering her courage, Michiru attempted starting a conversation.

"Rukia-sama says we'll get shinigami guards of our own 'til that cleansing magic is ready. What do you think, Kunieda-san?"

"I don't think you'll be needing any," her cohort pointed out. She seemed comfortable letting the matter end there. Fortunately Keigo took up the slack.

"Michiru, I think what she means is Tatsuki said the Espada mentioned nine of us being infected. Counting Karin that's eight, and since nobody else at the party got taken, the last is probably Chad since he wasn't there." He pondered on this, tapping a knee restlessly. "Guess that means we should warn him."

At this Don Kanonji sprang upright and pranced out before them. "Never fear, my young friends! Your hero shall concoct a spell that will see you all rid of any troublesome curses! My previous attempts were hasty and lacked zest, but this time I will employ all my power to wash away the taint of evil from your souls!" The TV personality then struck his signature pose with hands crossed over his chest. "BWA-HA-HA-HAH!"

Michiru doubted anyone in their group would consent to letting Kanonji try his magic on them even under normal circumstances, let alone after today's debacle. But she wasn't about to tell him that. Why limit his contributions? Not like she got to do much either.

Right then Kunieda lifted her head. "Actually, I think you've got more important things to worry about." So saying she pointed off towards the gate opening into the shop's yard.

Don Kanonji turned, only to freeze like a thief caught in the act. Coming towards them was a man with hair of shockingly white hue. He wore glasses, a pale suit, and one of the most quietly murderous expressions seen outside of professional basketball. Even worse than this, however, was the girl marching along beside him dressed in the uniform of Karakura 1st High School with a long brown ponytail and bangs to match. Even with her limited spiritual senses Michiru could swear she detected a demonic aura flaming around this otherwise pretty but clearly incensed young woman.

At this sight Keigo let out the most heartbreaking whimper, like a neglected puppy. "N… Nee-san!" he rasped, teeth chattering and face dripping with sweat.

Mizuho Asano swept raging brown eyes towards her quivering sibling. "I'll deal with you later, little brother," she swore with the darkest promise imaginable before turning her attention back to Kanonji. "You!" the intimidating female spat as she stalked forward. "You I'll deal with now!"

"Kanonji-san," Ryūken Ishida stated in an even but no less deadly voice. "I believe you were warned about performing your routine in my territory."

Before the ensuing massacre could take place Michiru felt a hand clasp her own to pull her upright. "Just keep walking," Kunieda Ryō murmured. "Don't run." With that she started towards the exit. Neither of the two avenging demons seemed to notice their departure. As they turned the corner into the street Ohgawa cast a last look back, in time to see poor Don Kanonji desperately attempting to scale a wall like a fly, to no avail. Then they were out of sight walking down the lane. She tried not to notice the ensuing noises receding into the distance.

About a block away, she finally worked up the nerve. "Um, Kunieda-san…?"

"Do me a favor, Michiru." The next thing she knew Ryō had stripped off her jacket and held it out. "Give this back to Keigo when the fighting's over. Kon should keep an eye on you 'til then."

Ohgawa accepted this garment uncertainly. "You're leaving? Isn't it dangerous to walk home alone? Maybe we should–"

"I've got it covered."

Right then a big black limousine ground to a halt in front of them. The passenger door flew open, and out stepped a huge hulking man in a dark suit with scars running down his face and the tattoo of a dragon on one cheek. This dangerous-looking character quickly opened the rear door with a bow. "Ojō-sama," he spoke.

While Michiru gaped in amazement Kunieda swept on by her. As she stepped into the limo, however, the other girl noticed the back of her shirt was torn to shreds. And seen briefly for a moment was a vibrant tattoo that appeared to cover the black-haired girl's whole back. The head of a roaring dragon was visible. Michiru could have sworn she saw its eyes sparkle before the door slammed shut. All her attention was then taken up by the giant Yakuza who loomed menacingly before her.

"You didn' see nuttin'. Got that, squirt?" he growled.

Swiftly she nodded in acquiescence. The mobster gave a grunt and swept back inside. Moments later the sleek vehicle pulled away to slip into the approaching fall of dusk. After a while, Michiru decided it really would be safer to head back to the Usagi Shoten. At least any monsters there she probably couldn't see well enough to be afraid.

---

"Really, Tatsuki-chan, I'm fine. You don't have to worry."

Orihime cradled the phone against her ear as she walked to a window. Peeking through the blinds, she spied two shinigami with wonderfully crafted hair slouching on a rooftop across the way. They weren't making any effort to hide themselves, but maybe that was the point? Scare off any Hollows. Both certainly looked mean enough. She resolved to take some food out to them later in case they got hungry. "Have you noticed our guards yet?"

"Maybe." Tatsuki's voice sounded more irritated than anxious now. "I keep thinking there's something out of the corner of my eye, but whenever I look it's nothing. Could be they're from that ninja unit of the shinigami, I don't know." There was a rustling like she had sat down, and then the concern was back in her voice. "Are you sure you don't want me to sleep over?"

"Yes." Very determined. She stepped back from the window and crossed over to sit on her bed. "I told you, I'm fine. You should just get some sleep. I'll be out like a light as soon as my head hits the pillow! What's to worry about?"

"For starters, Ulquiorra's still on the loose."

Just the name made her shiver. When she was younger Orihime used to believe that she could forgive anyone no matter what they might say or do. But if she was honest with herself, there were some people she never wished to meet again. She hadn't been glad to learn of the Cuarta Espada's death last year. Maybe because she hadn't stopped to think about it much? Just accepted it as a fact and moved on. But now that he was back…

With some people forgiveness didn't matter. They were just too scary for it to make a difference. The memory of a howling witch with one eye arose unbidden, and Inoue shuddered. Please don't ever let me see that again.

Orihime reached out and snagged a pillow, hugging it close for comfort. I never used to think like this. Hueco Mundo changed a lot of things.

"And…" Here Tatsuki hesitated for several seconds. The silence went on for a while. Before Orihime could speak, however, she finally got it out. "What about that other Ichigo? Do you think he'll show up in our dreams tonight?"

"We can't not sleep, Tatsuki-chan. And don't… don't worry about that. Kurosaki-kun will take care of it." Her voice grew soft. "I know he will." More enthusiastically, she affirmed, "Oh, but I really am tired. We should just get some sleep."

Her friend heaved a tired sigh. "Yeah. I guess it is time to hit the sack. Call me if you need to."

"I will. Good night."

" 'Night."

The call ended, and she put away the phone. Then Orihime buried her face in the pillow. Everything was quiet now. Peaceful. A plane flew overhead, followed by some cars passing by. Someone's dog barked for a little bit. The wall clock shaped like a cat with moving eyes and tail kept ticking. And all that time, Orihime thought.

She had lied to Tatsuki. She didn't feel tired. What did she feel?

Relief. We all made it out safe. Fear. The worst of them is back. Regret. I behaved like a fool. Shame. I nearly got Tatsuki killed. Worry. A Hollow is trying to take over Ichigo.

Resolve.

I won't let it.

The pins attached to her hair glowed. Moments later six fairies shot out and hovered around their mistress. Slowly Orihime lifted her face from the pillow, considering them. A warm orange penumbra filled the room. Quietly she recited their names to herself: Ayame, Baigon, Lily, Tsubaki, Hinagiko, Shun'o. I know what they all can do.

Orihime looked around for something suitable. Eventually her eye settled on an old forgotten calendar from last year propped up on her nightstand. Reaching over, she ripped off one of the outdated sheets. September. Her birth month. For some reason that made the girl shiver. But she was resolved.

Holding up the paper, the determined sorceress whispered, "Shiten Saigoshun. I…"

Immediately Ayame, Tsubaki, Baigon and Shun'o transformed and enveloped the sheet in their power. But instead of restoration…

"… reject!"

The aura brightened, only to flicker back and forth in intensity. Like they were uncertain what came next. But Orihime knew. Furrowing her brow, she concentrated. Sweat formed on her brow, along with a terrible sense of cold, and still her will did not relent. While so preoccupied the remaining sprites looked between her and one another anxiously, but neither of them spoke.

After a while the flickering stopped. The glow intensified until the whole room was orange light and starkly contrasting shadows.

Inside that supernatural globe, the torn sheet of paper slowly broke apart and dissolved away without a sound. When the light winked out, absolutely nothing remained.

Immediately Orihime collapsed back onto the sheets, panting and spent. Her allies resumed their material forms as innocuous hair decorations. That icy chill had settled into her bones, causing her to hug the pillow again for warmth. After what felt like a long while, it faded. For the most part, at least. But she didn't let that bother her now.

I can do it.

Once, long ago, when she had been told the ostensive reason for her being kidnapped and brought to Hueco Mundo, Orihime Inoue had resolved not to let her powers be used for evil ends. And more than that, she figured out a way to make her captivity useful. Because if Aizen did intend to let her approach his treasured hogyōku for the purpose of repairing it, then she could take advantage of his overconfidence and use this opportunity to do exactly the opposite. Namely, negating its existence. The chance to do so had never arisen. But that hadn't prevented Orihime from practicing in secret. Something that awful never came easily to her. Fortunately there hadn't been a good reason to try again since.

Now she knew a reason.

I will protect Tatsuki. And I will save Ichigo. If we are ever threatened again, I will use my power to completely undo his Hollow. For good.

Her eyes closed. That night, Orihime Inoue's sleep was untroubled. Her dreams held no fear.

---

Almost a week had gone by since the unplanned field trip to Hollow country. During that period Tatsuki found some comfort in her daily routine. She jogged, and trained. Went to school, hung out with her friends; a typical teenage life in many respects. The only difference was a lingering suspicion that somebody might be following her. If it was her shinigami escorts, however, they never saw fit to make themselves known. Ninja were bad enough. Ghost shinobi made for an even more maddening experience. Still, there was nothing she could do about it.

As far as she could tell, they hadn't picked up on what she was trying to do. Good. Let it stay that way.

When Rukia Kuchiki appeared at her door one night, it was honestly a relief to learn the bodyguard detail would be called off. This was owing to their Soul Society medicine men having synthesized a cure for that vasto lorde affliction. This came in the form of a small pink pill that Kuchiki handed over to her.

"I have distributed it among our friends, and confirmed the results," Rukia attested firmly. "The readings indicate you will no longer have any taint once you take this. Hollows will no longer target you. For that reason, at least."

"Wonderful," Tatsuki sighed. "Guess it's back to the usual everyday life-threatening peril."

"I fear this is the best we have to offer at this time."

"Don't worry about it, Rukia-chan. We're all pretty much used to this by now." She hesitated a moment before asking. "So everybody has taken this drug already?"

"Yes." Dressed in her shinigami uniform, Lieutenant Kuchiki cut a much more imposing figure than usual. But at the same time there was a certain measure of comfort having this powerful individual watching out for her. "We were one short in our calculations, though. According to the Research Bureau's analysis, Sado Yasutora was not among those who carried any lingering influence left by the prime Espada."

"Really?" Tatsuki didn't know whether this was good news or bad.

"It would seem so. Although like you he definitely interacted with Ulquiorra Schiffer on that first foray into the mortal world, there existed no trace of malign aura we could see. It could be they were not near each other long enough for any infestation to take place. Or perhaps being in his sealed form meant Ulquiorra's aura could not leave any trace in mortal souls?"

"Orihime healed Chad during that fight," Tatsuki pointed out. "Maybe her abilities removed anything that might have been wrong with him, not just the missing arm."

"That is possible. We will simply have to do more investigation if there truly is one more of the Harvester's targets." Rukia turned to leave then. "For now, Tatsuki-chan, I advise you to waste no time in taking that medicine. The sooner this chapter in our lives is closed the better."

She nodded obediently. "Right. No problem. Tell Ichigo I said hi."

Here the tiny guardian hesitated for a moment. "Have there been any new dreams?"

"Nope." A firm shake of her head. "Sleeping like a log. Orihime too. Guess Ichigo's really on the ball now, huh?"

At this Kuchiki smiled warmly. "Indeed. That's good to hear. Goodbye, Tatsuki-chan." Raising a hand, she departed through the wall.

"Bye."

A few minutes later saw Arisawa lying on her bed. She held the pink pill up before her eyes, inspecting it closely. So this will make it all go away, huh? I'm the last holdout.

Good.

She then opened her bedside table. Rummaging around, she came up with an old shrine charm Orihime had bought for her when they were kids. Into this Tatsuki carefully slipped the cleansing medicine, lacing up the bag's top and returning it to its resting place. Just to be on the safe side, she resolved to wait until morning. With that the girl got dressed and went to bed.

Very early the next day, before the sun began to rise, Arisawa got up and changed into her running clothes. Then she went out for a jog.

The night was cool but not unpleasant. Stars twinkled overhead. As she ran, her otherworldly senses carefully scanned the surroundings. There was no longer any prickling sense of being tailed. So they really are gone just like Rukia said, huh? Okay. Might as well get this show started.

Ten minutes later saw her cresting a rise of one of the highest hills in Karakura. On this terraced slope a graveyard spread out, bearing stone markers and offerings left by family members. The sky was just starting to lighten. Very few people were up at this time of day, and none would think this to be a proper place for exercise, or much else for that matter. Tatsuki stopped on one of the lanes leading through the cemetery, presumably to catch her breath. She felt a tickle in her throat. Yes, it was around here that she finally noticed it for the first time on one of her jogs. Knowing the shinigami were watching her, there hadn't been a chance to verify until now. Fortunately they had no way of realizing the different route she took every day was done with a purpose. Best way to cover more territory. And it looked like her suspicion might be correct.

She moved higher then, taking the steps that led into the woods two at a time. The tickling had transformed into a prickle, and it was growing more pronounced. At the top of the hill? No… more off to the side. The determined athlete then broke away from this path to enter the forest. Her pace slowed so as not to trip or lose her footing. Got to be careful.

At last her search appeared to have ended. Tatsuki now stood before a small cave mouth ringed by boulders. This spot had some significance. Back in her middle school days a few kids used to sneak in here after school, to smoke or make out as a sign of adolescent rebellion. It was secluded, with little chance of getting caught. But eventually the proximity of the graveyard made it just too inconvenient, and the juvenile offenders sought other less disturbing locales. She noticed one or two old beer cans stuffed with cigarette butts still lying around the entrance.

This was the place.

With utmost care Arisawa proceeded to clamber down into the pit. Its ceiling was just high enough that she only had to crouch a little bit. Supposedly it wasn't very deep and the tunnel ended at a small shrine that had been erected long before she was born. Having never explored it herself, she took it slow, bringing out her cell phone to light the way when the haze of approaching dawn could no longer assure visibility.

Her throat was burning with cold.

Thirty feet in she had reached the back of the cave. As her light fell upon the shrine, a rustling sound came that reminded her of dead leaves in winter.

Holding up the phone to get a better look, Tatsuki smiled without warmth.

"There you are."

The shrine consisted of nothing more than a tiny house built on a raised wooden platform with a stone figure inside. And behind this structure, lying on the dais scrunched back tight against the wall, was Ulquiorra Schiffer.

Tatsuki made her way up onto the plinth and inspected the fugitive. He looked as bad as when she first saw him in Hueco Mundo. There were no more wings or even color to mark him. His body had reverted to that same ash-grey material as before, a crumbling wreck in the vague outline of a man. Likely a strong breeze would blow him away.

Grey eyes stared at her. She liked to think he was sweating on the inside. Made her feel like this wasn't the worst idea in the world.

Squatting down before that helpless form, she regarded him with a critical eye.

"Somebody hasn't been eating right, I see."

His chest rose and fell with an effort. He made no attempt to speak. Most likely he thought this was it. And it just might be.

"I had a feeling you might be close by," she resumed speaking in a casual vein, glancing around the musty cavern. "Guess we're connected now in some way. You've got part of me inside you. At first, I said to myself, 'No way he'd hang around anywhere close by! Out of all the places on Earth he could have run, why come here, where all the people who most want to kill him live? It doesn't make any sense!' Right?"

Tatsuki leaned closer. She could have sworn he cringed back instinctively.

"But then it hit me: you couldn't go anywhere else. All the people you need are here. That's what you said before, right? 'I need them.' And it's true. The only ones who can help you get back to normal are all living within a five-mile radius in Karakura Town. If you were on the other side of the world, how would you reach them? Those little bats of yours pop if somebody sneezes. A round-world trip is not in the cards. So you had to stay as close as possible without getting too close."

"Problem is, your free buffet just got a lot less variety."

She settled down, stretching her legs off the side of the platform and rubbing a kink in her neck. Kind of pleasant chatting like this. "Yeah, the shinigami took care of that. Whatever vasto lorde stamp was left on my pals is gone now. You're down to just me. And something tells me if I take my medicine and get a clean slate too, you'll be dead within a week. Well, more dead than usual, anyway."

At this point Tatsuki stood up as much as she could in this position. She gazed down at that drained carcass. Seeing it like this, all the wrath from before started slowly building again. It was amazing how angry she felt, and yet the words she spoke next sounded completely calm.

"I could kill you."

Reaching back, Tatsuki lifted the small stone shrine god out of its home and hefted it overhead in clear preparation to bash in his skull. The look on his face reminded her of certain karate opponents she had faced in the past, when they realized just how much better than them she really was. That was the expression someone who had already resigned themselves to defeat wore.

"It would be so easy," she continued. "Just squash your head, stamp the rest of you out like a campfire, then go home, take a shower and have some breakfast. Nobody would be the wiser. They'd just wonder what became of you, and years down the road some might even recall that you never showed back up again. Yeah, it might make them uncomfortable. Ichigo, Orihime, Rukia… they might even ask if I knew anything. So I'd lie, say I didn't have a clue. And eventually… they'd get over it. That's how little you matter in real life, you vampire rapist motherfucker."

No more was said for about a minute, in which time the loudest thing to be heard was her deep angry breathing as she stared down at the helpless Hollow.

"Except… Kon might ask."

Slowly she lowered the granite club to dangle at her side.

"If he did, I don't think I'd be able to lie. Then he'd know what I did. And I don't ever want him to look at me the way he did back there again. That guy… his opinion means more to me than your continued fucking existence."

A moment later she had carefully reinserted the statue in its resting place. Turning back to Ulquiorra, Tatsuki Arisawa took a moment to consider her next move. I could walk away. Leave him here to die. Or call Rukia and let her know where to find him. Soul Society would take care of the rest. No blood on my hands either way. I wouldn't have to do anything, really. I'm in control.

But the person who scares me the most… I can't do jack shit to stop him.

And that's why I'm doing this.

Tatsuki knelt down right beside Ulquiorra. She reached out to pull the sleeve of her jacket up, exposing her forearm. Then she brought it down until it hovered close to his mouth. He didn't speak, but the question was there in his eyes.

"Answer me one thing. That monster… Ichigo's Hollow, the one you fought… can you kill it? For real? Without killing Ichigo too?"

The undead entity stared at her. Tatsuki licked her lips. It was starting to feel uncomfortably warm in this cavern. Sweat was dripping down her face, and she rubbed an arm across her brow. Maybe I'm closer to Hell down here than I think.

As she considered this, a sound like a dying man's whisper floated through the air.

Yes.

A lie? Probably. He had nothing to lose by doing so. But still, it was all the hope she could personally lay claim to. And for now, at least, she was holding all the cards. Just have to make sure that never changes.

"Then I'll give you what you need. You can get strong again, until you're ready to do it. After that you can dry up and blow away for all I care."

So saying, she gently lowered her wrist until it rested flush with his mouth. Ulquiorra didn't hesitate. She felt him latch on, that same horrible cold feeling shooting up her arm and into her heart like a knife. For an instant the only sane response seemed to be bringing her fist up and dashing his wispy remains all over the floor.

Instead Tatsuki gritted her teeth at this violation, and held on. As the Hollow drew in his needed sustenance his eyes never left her face. She stared stubbornly right back, refusing to be the one to look away first. I'm not scared of you, asshole. So just suck it up and hope I don't change my mind.

Later that day, when Orihime asked about the bandage on her wrist, Tatsuki just said it was a little sore and changed the subject.

---

The Huge Hollow Berrinholtz staggered across the sand-swept plains of Hueco Mundo. It screamed without stop, driven mad by agony. No measure of control remained. The only thing left inside was an insatiable urge to kill, so that perhaps by doing so it might make the pain go away. Mile after mile it trod the hellish landscape with no one in sight. Sometimes it fell, only to rise and keep going, in search of life it could destroy.

At one point it tumbled down a dune and lay panting there for a while with enormous mitts buried in the sand for support. Blood streaked its jaws and the cracked midnight marble at its core. After a while Berrinholtz threw back its head and uttered a roar that resounded from one edge of the horizon to another.

Doing so allowed it to notice the collection of looming Menos Grande that now encircled it like trees around a glade.

A hiss stole from several throats, and without further ado they dove in to attack. The canine brute bellowed and staggered up to meet this challenge. For a while nothing could be seen but bent black writhing forms. Flashes of yellow energy emerged briefly.

Then they all collapsed.

A short time later, there came a stirring. First one Gillian stood. Then another. More followed, until they all had drawn clear of the space between.

Revealed in their midst, Berrinholtz clambered upright. His wounds were gone. Down his massive shoulders there now hung a cloak made of many different hairy pelts that gave off a foul stench. And from his brow grew antlers branching out into wicked prongs. A similar assemblage of bone shafts wound protectively around his core midsection like vines before settling in to cover it from sight.

Cernunnos looked around at his new followers. At this they all bayed long and loud. The creature that had once been Berrinholtz answered this call with a threatening snarl that was carried by the winds of Hueco Mundo, striking primal fear into the hearts of whoever heard it.

Their rebirth complete, the Wild Hunt then took up the chase once more.

Arc 2: FIN.