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.

11. Wedding Hells: Spy Games

"Charlatan! I shall prove the matter of these lies over your corpse!"

"The sly fox hides his teeth, but the loud dog bares them. Come at me, ye cur of Kyoto, and taste my steel fang!"

Two hot-blooded samurai were about to draw on one another outside an alehouse already infested by a group of bandits. At any moment blood would surely be shed. A crowd of gawkers attracted by the noise now watched in breathless anticipation for the combat to commence.

Showtime, Suzuki Denbei thought.

"Put up your blades, oh warriors of the Shogunate!" he proclaimed upon approaching the tavern. "As Mayor of this peaceful settlement, I, Wakahisa Ichiji, do abjure you from such unseemly displays before our illustrious visitors! Shame! Shame, I say!"

Meanwhile the bandits had picked up on the disturbance and taken this opportunity to flee the premises, squirming out windows and making a big show of hiding behind a troupe of tittering geisha who came flitting by at just the right time. The audience laughed at their silly antics while the miscreants silently implored them not to draw attention to their flight. As they made their escape Suzuki played his part and continued scolding the feuding swordsmen until they hung their heads in humiliation. He sent them off with a few choice words before turning to address the crowd.

"Ye good visitors to our humble town," he declared in the trademark tones of dishonest politicians throughout the ages, "I, the honorable Mayor of Kioshimura, do wish you good fortune on this auspicious day. I applaud your courage at not flinching in the face of yon lawless ruffians who have been marauding hereabouts! Should ye wish to view an example of homemade rice wine being crafted, why, simply enter the brewing establishment behind me, where our very own Miki-san shall ply her trade, and perhaps even offer the adults a taste!"

And with that he reeled them in. The promise of free booze samples brought the happy customers pouring past. Suzuki left the park patrons with the alehouse staff before heading off down the road. Well, that's everything on my schedule for the next hour. What to do until the maple leaf viewing party…?

"Excuse me?"

He gave a start and came about. Before him stood a young lady with short spiky hair and sharp dragon eyes. An attractive one too. She was clearly another tourist visiting the theme park judging by her casual dress. Denbei found himself briefly cursing the rule against dating guests at about the same time he realized he was probably too old for her anyway. Looked to still be in her teens. Although really, I'm not that much older, so maybe…

"I'm looking for a temple that's supposed to be here. Do you know where it is?"

Oh. Right. The job. He might just be playing a part, but that didn't mean he couldn't help her out.

"Be of good cheer, fair maiden," he gushed theatrically. "For I, Wakahisa no–"

"Never mind." With that she turned on her heel and strode off.

"H… hold on! One second, please!"

Suzuki took a deep breath and consciously dropped his stage persona. It was rather a relief, truth be told. He then ran to catch up. The girl scowled as he drew to her elbow.

"Sorry, really, I don't mean to make such a big scene," he rushed to apologize as they moved on together, him in an antique headman's outfit complete with topknot and wooden sandals, her bundled up against the low autumn temperatures. "It's part of the job, we can get kind of set in the roles. Are you looking for the temple? Let me show you the way. Please."

"Fine," she grumbled sourly.

"Right. It's just down the street."

He then proceeded to lead her through the throngs. It was a bright sunny afternoon, if somewhat chilly, and many families were taking advantage of what might be the last nice day this season to visit Kioshimura Theme Park. The artists and actors who made their living here were enjoying the opportunity to ply their trade. Fashioned to reflect the Japan of feudal times, great attention had been paid to accurately reconstruct the setting, from the architecture of the buildings to the layout of gardens and streets. For most people it really was like stepping back into the past. The effort had not gone unrewarded. Numerous samurai films had used this site as a backdrop, and it had been designated a national heritage site some years past. That meant a stable gig for artists too often left at the mercy of a cold uncaring world.

He pointed out a few sites of note to her as they went, which his companion seemed to pay little interest. Suzuki did not bother with the Edo-esque grandiose speech he normally affected. Nonetheless he continued to chat with this lovely if somewhat distant female, while being very much aware of the veiled looks he was getting from some of the other staff members. It was tradition not to break character during work hours. This sort of thing was frowned upon. But how often did he get an opportunity to pal around with a pretty girl? And besides, if they were going to the temple, that gave him a chance to interact… with…

Oh, no.

His fancy-filled brain finally registered where they were headed. And more importantly, where they would have to pass through to get there. The artists' quarters. Painters, instrument-makers… and the silversmith.

Right on cue, he looked up and spotted the person in question. Farther down the street, through the press and past several other shops doing business, Gato Izanagi flashed his permanent grin while dealing with some customers. Money exchanged hands, and he tossed the coins to clink merrily in his palm while bidding them goodbye. When their backs were turned, without warning the silversmith turned his head, and Denbei found himself being stared at across the distance through those blue-tinted glasses. Gato's smirk grew even wider as he seemed to notice the young woman keeping pace with him.

Immediately the long-suffering mope looked away. Beads of sweat slid down his spine in defiance of the cool air. More than once he had found himself the victim of Izanagi's disturbingly accurate taunting. Worst of all was when he got humiliated in front of the ladies. Gato seemed to take especial delight in mocking him for the benefit of girls. They probably thought it was all part of an act. At least, he told himself that was the case. The suspicion that they might secretly be in on it sometimes crept up on him as he lay in bed at night. On rare occasions Suzuki was tempted to respond in kind; only the fear that Gato might actually kill him served to keep such impulses little more than daydreams.

He gritted his teeth in preparation of the coming verbal onslaught. Any second now. I can hear it already. 'Oi, Denbei-kun! The courtesan house says ya can't keep charging on credit no more! Pay yer tab, man, pay yer tab!'

I don't have a tab, dammit!

"You all right? You clammed up pretty quick there."

"Huh?" He swiveled his head. The teenager was regarding him out of the corner of one eye while she tramped on. "Oh, yeah… fine."

She really was cute. A bit rough around the edges, yes, but personality was a criterion of more demanding men. Denbei took what he could get. Of course, the thought of how she might soon bear witness to his own personal hell almost had him turning tail to run. Only a certain mechanical imperative kept his feet shuffling forward.

'Yowza, watch out, there's a tanuki in our midst! Oh, wait, my bad, s'just Suzuki-kun. The tail always throws me.'

There's no tail! Stop looking, there's no tail!

"What tail?"

"Nothing." Suzuki shook his head. Did I say that out loud? Dammit! He actually quickened his pace. They were almost there. Come on, you bastard, just get it over with. Do your worst, I don't care! This time I'm going to walk on by with my head held high, and not a single thing you say will affect me in the slightest! Watch and see!

So resolved, he turned defiant eyes on the approaching silversmith shop, just as the 'Closed' sign dropped.

What the…?

Sightseers passed alongside them. After a few seconds they reached the shuttered smithy. The blinds were down. Wares on display had been removed. Those who had been examining them drifted along as though having seen nothing. Which was exactly what happened when Suzuki and the girl went by. Nothing. Gato had closed shop early for some reason.

Why?

This question dogged him the rest of the way. So wrapped up in this mystery was he that he almost didn't notice when they came upon their goal. A flight of stone steps led up the side of the mountain near the bounds of the park. They were older than anything seen so far, worn with time and practically grown into the forested landscape. Yet they remained clean and well-maintained. Denbei stopped and gestured up their length.

"This is it. Kioshimura Temple is at the top of the Thousand Steps. There's a gift shop, but please take note that the shrine and its custodians are not a part of the park's attraction, so do afford them all due courtesy."

"Thanks." After giving him a searching look that failed to penetrate the state of bewilderment he resided in, the teen offered Denbei a somewhat polite bow and started up the stairs.

His duties fulfilled, the dumbstruck actor turned back the way he came. Gato's place was still closed when he went by. This sight struck him as somewhat wondrous. Like the heavens smiled upon him.

A particular American phrase regarding the sun and a dog's nether regions occurred to him at this time. For some reason, Suzuki found it rather heartening.

---

The Thousand Steps turned out to be more like 200. She could have jogged up without even getting out of breath. Instead Tatsuki Arisawa took it slow, allowing herself time to think. Could Oushima Reichi really be here?

From one pocket she withdrew a folded piece of paper to examine the contents. There it was, spelled out in Ochi-sensei's careful hand: 'Kioshimura Theme Park, located in the Honshou district'. For all that it was just a local attraction, the place was pretty impressive. She had been skeptical when their teacher informed her he was living at an amusement park, but it turned out the government really did keep accurate records of its citizens.

Now that she was here, Tatsuki was beginning to feel a queasiness that normally only came upon her right before a tough match. The dread of an uncertain future; would she wind up flat on the mat with no recollection of the blow that felled her, or would she be standing triumphant over her vanquished opponent? Only now the end result would be the same either way. Her soul stood to be compromised again.

Listless feet trod the worn stone haltingly. No one else seemed to be making the ascent to the temple, or coming down. Maybe it wasn't as popular a destination as the rest of this place?

How is this even supposed to work? Do I just touch him and, I dunno, will the Hollow essence into me? She hadn't told Ulquiorra of her intention to come here. Tatsuki wasn't sure why she had made the journey. Her parents thought she was going north to check out a few college campuses over the weekend. Perfectly normal for a student staring down her senior year at high school. This small deception ate at her resolve as badly as anything else. Tatsuki hadn't lied to her folks since she was a child. Doing so made her feel cold and trembly, enough that Mom had asked if she might be ill.

At last the troubled teen crested the top of the stairs and looked around. A flagstone path led to an arched ceremonial gate. Beyond this stood the temple itself. Tatsuki felt a chill upon seeing it. Trees rose tall and thick all around, seeming to cut off any sunlight that might try to filter in. Shade and shadows lay everywhere. The building itself was larger than she had expected. A one-story structure, the main house was ornate and very well made with two side buildings emerging like arms to encompass her. It looked to be in better shape than the temples in Karakura. Did this place have federal funding, or maybe a wealthy backer?

She passed along the way. There was indeed a souvenir stand as the guy down below had mentioned, but it proved deserted. No effusive shrine maidens sought to press talismans and charms upon her. The lack of this usually annoying hallmark of the temple set only served to leave her even more anxious. A slight buzzing sound reached her ears, like the muffled call of a lone cicada.

At last Tatsuki couldn't take it anymore. She drew to a halt and called out in a clear voice, "Hello? Is anybody here?"

"What be yer need?"

Arisawa spun about. Regarding her from three feet off the ground was a… leprechaun.

"Speak up, youngster! There be temple matters that need addressin'. Ol' Mari-Rin is a busy lady, and I value my remaining time on this earth more than any whippersnapper such as yerself could ken."

There was something decidedly foreign in the way the old woman spoke. Yet Tatsuki realized her initial impression had been incorrect. The small form before her was indeed garbed in green, but what she had initially assumed was hair turned out to be a red ama zukin nun's shawl draped over her head. The actual locks beneath were in a bun and iron-grey, what little could be seen peeking out. She wore a vibrant sea-green cloak over faded robes of red and white, and her bare feet stuck out of wooden sandals. This plump body was topped by an equally pudgy face with a frowning mouth sunk deep in a pit of wrinkles. But the eyes were shockingly bright, stabbing out from the waddles of fat like the gaze of a raven on a battlefield.

From beneath her cape the little enigma (Mari-Rin?) produced a long pipe already stuffed with tobacco. Striking a match, she proceeded to light it and start puffing away, regarding Tatsuki through the smoke. This served to remind her as to why she was here.

"Sorry to bother you… miko-sama… my name's Arisawa Tatsuki. I'm looking for an old classmate of mine who might be working here… Reichi Oushima?"

"Don't ken the name." The old woman blew smoke out through her nostrils, then inhaled before bellowing so loudly it made Tatsuki jump. "YO, TAMAMO-NO-MAE! Get yer lazy butt out here! Hop to it!"

The shout seemed to echo all around them. From back at the souvenir stand, there came a groan followed by some rustling. That buzzing from before suddenly shut off, and a low voice could be heard saying, "Can't talk, the kappa's on the warpath." Next came a beep, and without further ado, a woman rose from behind the counter and emerged to join them.

Tatsuki stared. This person looked to be making up for everything the ludicrous Mari-Rin lacked. For one thing, she was taller than Tatsuki. And… rather bigger in the area of… oh, hell, just admit it, her breasts were huge! They strained the fabric of a very expensive-looking purple nun's habit she had on, the front of which opened to reveal those bulging melons pressed enticingly against one another. An imperial yellow sash wrapped around her waist, and the skirt cut off at the knees to better show off a supremely shapely pair of legs. Her shoes were red, as was the string of prayer beads around her neck, and she wore a pale blue shawl that covered head and shoulders.

To make matters worse, a more beautiful woman could not be imagined. The word 'stunning' came to mind. As if to emphasize this there was a tiny beauty mark right below her lip, one which could never be mistaken for a flaw. A fall of shining black hair cascaded from beneath the shawl to cover one eye, while its mate proved dark as ink and just as lustrous in the light, almost gleaming like a cat's. Looking into this deep black jewel, Tatsuki could have sworn she was being captivated. There was something just a tad eerie about a person that gorgeous. She hadn't felt this way since meeting Rukia's brother, a feat Tatsuki had honestly never expected to have repeated in her life. And for only the second time ever she found herself relating to Chizuru Honsho. Is this how she sees women? Certainly explains why a few kicks from me never stopped her.

This newfound appreciation for the female form dimmed slightly when that lone eye locked with hers. It narrowed, and immediately Tatsuki's instincts screamed 'Danger'!

Before she could respond, that immaculate brow cleared, and the divine beauty turned a pouty look on the old woman. "Mari-sama, I've told you a thousand times, I'm Madame Rao! Please refer to me by my stage name when addressing the public, hmm?"

The priestess scowled in response. "Can't fool me! You're Daji! The courtesan of Emperor Shang of China, returned to the Middle Kingdom to wreak havoc once more! But Ol' Mari-Rin perceives yer dastardly tricks! I got me eye on ye, wicked deceiver of men!"

Those exquisite shoulders lifted with a sigh. "If you say so." The gorgeous Rao then addressed Tatsuki with a smile. "Please excuse the poor behavior, dear visitor! We're a backwoods shrine, unremarked and poorly attended." She drew one hand up to her breast theatrically. "Now, how may we be of service to you? Are you looking for a good luck charm? We have several in stock. Or perhaps you're in search of some sutras? Ours are certain to clear your karma, and for the low, low price of 10,000 yen! You won't find a better bargain this side of the Sanzu no Kawa!" And with that she winked.

Arisawa felt her head spinning slightly. Dealing with these two personalities was proving more tiring than the walk up the stairs. Focus! "Look, I'm not here for charms or whatever. I'm trying to find someone. Does a guy named Oushima live here?"

At this Rao's eyebrow rose. "Oh, you're a friend of Jimmy's? Why didn't you say so? Right this way."

She then proceeded to saunter off, beckoning for Tatsuki to follow. This she did until they reached the doors of the temple. Rao opened them, upon which the girl realized her initial guess had been correct: there was more to this complex than met the eye. This was not the entrance to the inner sanctum as its appearance might have led one to believe. Instead she now found herself in a fairly large garden complete with a pond and several small shrines scattered about. It looked quite nice, but she couldn't take the time to appreciate it. The sight of a person scrubbing the walkway took up all her attention.

"Jimmy-kun!" Rao called pleasantly. "You've got a visitor!"

The busy acolyte looked up from his work, and Tatsuki blanched upon seeing his face.

"Arisawa Tatsuki? Is that you?"

Without waiting for a response Oushima Reichi dropped his brush, stood and came bustling over, wiping his brow and grinning from ear to ear. The target of his jubilation was finding it difficult to maintain her equilibrium. It was him, no doubt about that, but… something was different. It wasn't the lack of lip piercing or earrings, nor even the dark unbleached hair, even less the temple acolyte's uniform he was wearing. Those things paled in comparison to the sheer personality on display here. In all the time she had known him, Tatsuki had never seen Reichi's face without that mean, stupid, vicious look she had come to associate with him. Instead the person coming towards her right now appeared quite cheerful, beaming and waving hello.

It made her heart sink at the reason behind this visit.

"What a surprise!" her old classmate exclaimed as he came up to them and stood with hands on hips and a smile on his face. "I wasn't expecting to see anyone from Karakura Town here. Long time no see! What brings you by?"

"H… Hi." This was as far as she got. Guilt sprang up to throttle any further communication. I thought he would be… himself, y'know? A jerk, a thug, a bully! I assumed I'd have to beat some cooperation out of him right from the get-go! What the heck happened? And what do I do now?!

Fortunately, right at that moment, a bell rang somewhere in the temple.

"LUNCHTIME!"

A cry she recognized as belonging to the priestess Mari-Rin resounded through the courtyard. At this Oushima untied his sleeves, hiked up his pants around his ankles and dashed past. "Better hurry!" he called back over his shoulder. "Mari-sama doesn't like waiting! Let's catch up on things while we eat, okay?!"

With that he disappeared through a door into the temple proper. Finding herself suddenly alone, the alluring Madame Rao having disappeared sometime in the last few seconds, Tatsuki saw no choice but to follow.

---

When the Kenpachi came marching towards the spot where the demon Jidoku was kept under guard, both attendant mages got out of his way fast.

Kiyone Kotetsu stumbled in the captain's shadow along with a dozen members of his merry band. She exchanged a very worried look with Sentaro Kotsubaki, who appeared to be having trouble walking still. The boys from Tiger were too damn drunk or just plain dumb to understand what this confrontation could mean. For all she knew, war was about to be declared between Soul Society and Hell.

They had all been chasing down shots in a bar together. That's how this fiasco started. Her, Sentaro, and a bunch of guys from Tiger Company. This included the Captain and Third Seat. Of all the people to have been present when Jigoku first showed up, Kiyone had determined that Ikkaku Madarame was the most likely to let spill the secret. Isane had informed her of their situation so that the Mistress of Whispers could deploy her network of informants and quash any rumors to that effect before they could get around. The higher-ups were still working on a viable method to try and get rid of Jigoku without antagonizing the thing or throwing all of Seireitei into a panic. Kiyone's skills played no small part in keeping a lid on this delicate political situation. So when she got wind that Kenpachi was back in town and looking to unwind, she immediately collared Sentaro for backup and went to keep an eye on things.

The berserker captain had seemed especially moody, keeping to himself and not really participating in the festivities, while his loyal Third Seat made up for it by getting completely smashed. Ikkaku went through the rowdy phase of intoxication, followed by the punch-crazy phase, and then was just super terrific pleased with the world, egged on the whole way by a delighted Lieutenant Yachiru Kusajishi. Kiyone hadn't really felt worried about it at this point, being pretty tipsy herself. They were all having a good time.

Right up until Ikkaku flopped down beside his captain, took a big swig from a bottle and calmly declared, "There's a demon in Soul Society."

Kiyone remembered her body turning to ice at this proclamation. Inebriation vanished. She sat rigid as a soldier on parade, not daring to look and see what the response might be. Maybe Zaraki didn't hear? Or perhaps it just didn't register on him. After a few seconds she managed to steel herself. I am a scion of House Kotetsu; we do not shrink from fear! With this inner encouragement the pint-sized drunk turned her attention to the corner.

Zaraki Kenpachi sat carefully cleaning off his polished sword. He did not behave in the slightest as though Ikkaku's unguarded revelation had reached his ears. That lone yellow eye remained absorbed in his task as though nothing else mattered in the world.

Then he set down the soul cutter, reached over and hoisted his bald follower up by the back of his robes. "What did you say?" he rasped in a deceptively calm voice.

So despite her preparations, it had all blown up in her face. There hadn't even been time to dispatch a hell butterfly warning anybody. Kiyone was forced to exercise all due haste in following the captain when he swept off in hot pursuit of this heretofore unrealized brand of opponent. Because it should be obvious to anyone who knew their war leader even peripherally where this was going.

The Kenpachi intended to fight the emissary of Hell.

It was late at night. Two torches burned in brackets to either side of this cleared ground where Old Man Yamamoto's funeral took place. Now that they were here she really should take the opportunity to inform her sister, or the Lord-Commander… somebody who could put a stop to this!

Unfortunately, I'm too damn scared to even move.

Zaraki stalked forward until he stood directly before the creature, him in his captain's robe, it in white formal wear. The veil with the word 'demon' scrawled on it still covered up its face. Jigoku did not move at Zaraki's approach. It just launched into its established litany of, "The Principal has been officially terminated…"

The looming madman waited until it was done, sword hoisted up onto one shoulder and spiked head cocked reflectively to one side. Yachiru hung off the other arm. She too appeared to be studying Jigoku. Flames sputtered and cracked, painting shifting patterns of light and shadow across their bodies. The Tiger boys, Ikkaku included, hung back without saying a word. Perhaps even their wine-dulled brains had sensed the danger inherent in this confrontation.

Unstoppable force meets immovable object, Kiyone thought, and giggled a tad, though it sounded closer to a whimper. She saw Zaraki grunt something to Yachiru, who nodded and slipped down off his broad back. The adolescent lieutenant came skipping back to where Kiyone stood at the head of the pack to crouch on her haunches like an animal. There she watched the two monsters as they faced off, a very intense look on those normally carefree features.

Kiyone worked up the nerve to ask. "Err… Yachiru-chan?"

"Shh!" Not even a look in her direction. Does she know something I don't? Probably. Anyway, I just wanted to ask if we were all about to die, that's all.

Right on cue, Kenpachi reached up and lifted the shroud off Jigoku's face.

Kiyone caught her breath, as did several people around her who had sufficient vantage to see what just happened. All she could make out was a corner of the mask peaking over that broad shoulder. The demon was tall, but Zaraki still dwarfed it. As a result Kiyone couldn't see what lay under there, although she had been dying to know ever since first setting eyes on it. Curiosity would have definitely killed the cat in this case.

To her profound relief, nothing happened. The Tiger commander peered down at what was presumably the creature's naked visage. He gave no sign of being troubled at what he saw there. After a moment Zaraki's hand dropped. The sheet fell once more, and Jigoku stood unmoved in the same position it had occupied upon arrival. That deranged war machine took a few steps back to examine it. The naked blade tapped against his shoulder thoughtfully. Tap. Tap. Tap.

The sound of steel against cloth sounded like cannons being fired off in this deathly silence. Please let that be the end of it, Kiyone prayed. It doesn't want to fight you! It doesn't want to do anything! Stupid thing probably wouldn't react if you tried. There's no reason to expect it could even put up a fight. In fact, come to think of it, there's pretty much nothing scary about Jigoku. I mean, sure, it's creepy the way it just stands there, but that's nothing special. Hell, Gin Ichimaru was way creepier than that dumb white robot. In fact, I…

Tap. Ta…

The sound stopped. In that same instant Zaraki Kenpachi lowered his zanpakutō and extended it point outwards.

And now Kiyone experienced true fear. Her mouth dropped open. An attempt to scream out a warning produced little more than a faint gurgle. She could only watch, thinking to herself, He's crazy, he's crazy, he's flippin' crazy! Firelight flashed along that gleaming edge as it slowly approached Jigoku. The finely dressed automaton made no move to avoid its approach. Maybe it doesn't care. Maybe he can't really hurt it. Maybe nothing will happen.

The soul cutter pricked against the demon's chest.

And it changed.

The sky went blood red. The landscape followed. Kiyone Kotetsu found she was all alone, no one else to be found anywhere.

Across from her stood Jigoku. It wasn't the same. Instead of white, it had turned black. She could see everything with perfect clarity. It now bore only the outline of a human body; the flesh was a shell, composed of thin bars crisscrossed all over one another in no visible order. Like someone had fashioned a human effigy out of black wire. And contained within it she could see movement.

Jigoku began to grow. In moments it was a giant, towering high in the sky with feet extending downwards almost lost to view. Kiyone wanted to scream. For there were people in there. Hundreds of people. Thousands, all trapped inside small cages fashioned from the black wire, just below the surface. They were burning, thrashing ablaze in their solitary cells as hellish flames consumed them, striking side to side, shaking the bars, fingers frantically pushing through the gaps in maddened attempts to escape this torture. They howled and shrieked without cease although it came to her ears faint as echoes in some lofty cavern. The titanic house of torment reared up so large it swallowed the whole world. On its head were two blazing holes for eyes and an open mouth from which flame and heat spewed like a blacksmith's forge. This pit filled up her vision as it sucked in one long indrawn breath that never stopped. Like it was pulling her in to feed the flames. Never stop. Never stop. Burn forever. BURN forever. BURN. BURN. BURN. BURN, ALL OF YOU BUUUUUUURN.

Then the world came back. She was still on her feet, the night air cool against skin that felt flayed raw from that devil wind. Her body was shaking so hard it couldn't stop.

It's not a robot, she realized. Jigoku is alive. Nothing that wasn't could hate that much.

When Kiyone looked up she saw the Kenpachi crouched a ways off from Jigoku. His eyepatch lay in the dirt. The black hole in his skull stared at the demon while his remaining glowing ochre eye had narrowed, sharp teeth bared in a savage snarl. Arcs of spirit energy rippled off the captain's body like slow-moving waves against the shore. They were so strong several people around her had passed out. His sword was held before his body in readiness.

The demon had gone back to normal. It made no further attack, if you could even call what just happened an attack. For a moment Kiyone feared Zaraki meant to renew his assault and not stop until one of them was utterly destroyed.

Then he raised the weapon up to his ear and held it there. Like he was listening to it speak. After a few heart-stoppingly long seconds the Kenpachi gave a slow nod. Never taking his eye off Jigoku, he lowered his blade. That fearsome face now wore a rather contemplative cast that she had never seen before.

"I get it," was all he said.

With that Zaraki turned and walked away. Yachiru hopped over to tag along beside him. Kiyone heard her ask a question, and the giant responded, but what it might be didn't register. Moments later they had stepped beyond the ring of firelight and disappeared into the night.

We almost died… didn't we?

"Kiyone?" Beside her, Sentaro seemed to have recovered himself. "You all right?"

"No." She didn't dare move a muscle.

He considered this, as well as the white apparition motionless across the way. To her horror, the co-Third Seat of Heron Company then shuffled forward to stand in front of Jigoku.

"Wanna get a drink?" he asked.

Kiyone threw up.

---

A forest of stone grew in Hueco Mundo.

All around, low-hanging trees spread out in profusion. The branches were bare, without a single leaf to be seen, trunks gnarled and white. Upon closer examination the bleached husks were completely petrified, rocky roots sunk deep in the inhospitable soil as though searching desperately for water. Few ever came here; it was a fey place, having seemingly arisen from out of nowhere near the borders of the dead zone. None could remember having seen it before. Yet now this arboreal cemetery stretched for leagues across the barren plains.

Their meeting was held in a clearing near the center of the forest. Here a small pond of thick scarlet blood lay dormant in a basin of bone. Wrapped in his concealing cloak, the Vizard remained on the periphery of this grisly lakelet, keeping a wary eye on the other party in attendance. Across the way Grimmjow Jaguerjaques sat with his back against a tree, fingers tapping restlessly on one upraised knee. Several members of his pack prowled between the boughs like jackals waiting to pounce. Narrow blue eyes drifted all around the arena, lingering now and then on the Vizard in a way that made him almost glad to have the hulking Cernunnos looming large at his back. The Espada was in his resurreccion, most likely as a precaution against ambush. They had not exchanged a word upon Grimmjow's arrival. No love lost there.

This is what I've sunk to; working with killers and monsters. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Why is he here to begin with? And what's keeping her? I can't spend all day hanging around. Have to get back before someone gets suspicious…

As if sensing his anxiety, a stirring occurred in the depths of the pond, causing it to churn. For all that he was relieved to finally get things started, the Vizard couldn't help but dread what came next. Moments later the whole bloody mass burst up like a gouting wound. When it subsided, the avatar of Tia Halibel gazed down on them with liquid eyes.

"Our plan must be altered," she declared without preamble.

At least she doesn't beat about the bush. This did not bode well, whatever it might prove to be.

"Another matter has arisen. There is no more time to waste. For this reason we have asked Grimmjow to attend." She inclined her head at him. "Welcome back, Espada." He gave a contemptuous snort in return.

The Vizard bestirred himself at that. "Are you saying we're not waiting until the wedding?" He had tried to sound blunt about it, however the look Halibel threw him seemed to indicate he had failed. Hastily he strove to press his point. "I only ask because it made more sense to wait. That way they'll be preoccupied and less likely to notice or respond to our presence effectively."

"That is no longer your concern," the vasto lorde retorted in a dry voice. "The wedding will be allowed to proceed. It is not to be disturbed. In any way."

"How come?" Grimmjow drawled from his place against the tree. When the blood goddess turned to regard him, sharp teeth bared in an unfriendly grin. "What's Aizen care about some shinigami shindig, anyway?"

Halibel studied him sitting there. Then in a low voice she said, "Not Aizen."

It sent a shiver up his spine. Was she participating in this? That was the worst news so far. Of all the miserable…

"Now then; we've received news of Soul Society. It seems they have been approached by a denizen of Hell."

This revelation caused the masked warrior's jaw to drop in shock. Instinctively he looked over at Jaguerjaques to gauge his response, but the panther general reacted to the news with nothing more than a slight frown. And here I thought things couldn't get more disturbing. Uncomfortably the other conspirator turned back to listen.

"Aizen is very interested on this score. He feels the Underworld might offer our best chance at freedom, since the Gates of Hell can manifest even in Nirvana to seek their prey."

"How the hell did he figure that?" Grimmjow flashed a predatory leer at their ensanguine emissary. "Did the Big Man ask you to take one for the team, Halibel?"

She threw a cool look back that would have made the Vizard fear for his life had she done so to him. "I permitted liberación for some of my component Hollows, yes. Afterwards they were purified until we hit upon some that had been damned by their lives on Earth. Hell claimed them immediately. Our attempts to communicate with the demons during these transactions have been unsuccessful to date; however if we gain their favor, they might consent to allow passage through their dimension, to the mortal realm or some other plane that is not so… tightly maintained as the one we inhabit now."

They could get out? Heaven help us…

Behind him Cernunnos shifted at these words. He glanced at it sharply, wondering if something might have caught the ancient terror's interest. The horned bear skull did not respond to him. It remained squatted on its haunches, huge paws digging into the calcite terrain. This new incarnation of the Hunt Master was not as large as the last had been. Despite this, he was more leery of it than he would care to admit. With that fur cape and crown of horns, it somehow seemed more… perhaps human was not the right word. Maybe just more aware than he had initially assumed the leader of the Wild Hunt could ever be. Cernunnos still did not speak, and it obeyed his orders so far. Yet all the same, he often found himself wondering just what it might be thinking. Whose side was the Hunt really on? For that matter, what do any of us know about each other for certain?

"For this reason, Aizen has proposed a contest between the two parties gathered here."

He came back to himself in time to register this. "What?"

A mocking smile stole up Halibel's face. "You understand. It can get boring in Heaven. And we don't want you growing complacent. This will serve to keep everyone on their toes, as it were. Like I said, this is a contest between the both of you. You may bring along as many cohorts as you wish. In that way it is a team-based competition. Team Grimmjow and Team…" A small smirk twisted the corner of her mouth. "… Vizard. You are each to be given a separate quest to fulfill. That way there will be no issue of direct interference. Can't have you killing one another, after all."

Grimmjow snorted, as though disdainful of the thought that he might die were they to engage in combat. Not for the first time the Vizard found himself regretting certain past decisions he had made. He resumed listening with significantly more apprehension than before.

"One of you shall retrieve the item held under guard as previously discussed. The other is now tasked to make contact with a specific individual connected to the Hell-born's appearance. Successful completion of your quests will depend upon whether you can remain hidden in enemy territory long enough to achieve your objective. After which–"

"Screw that noise."

Grimmjow came to his feet in one fluid motion like a coiled spring that had been released. The Hollow's long blue hair streamed behind him as he strode to the edge of the pool, tail curling restlessly. The Segunda studied him with her ice-cold eyes.

"You really think I'm gonna be okay with this?" Jaguerjaques growled. His expression had metamorphosed from nasty to outright murderous. In the shadowy woods his pack stirred and hissed in support. "Maybe this turkey is cool with being Aizen's butt-monkey…" he hiked a thumb over his shoulder at the Vizard, who bristled in response, "but I'm not about to stick my neck out for some half-assed shot in the dark. Even if the end result is Aizen goes to Hell!"

The giantess bent slowly down to end up with arms crossed on the edge of her container. From there Halibel stared intently at the smaller Hollow, head cocked to one side. He offered a defiant glare in return.

"I'll be brief," Tia murmured through lips of sluggish gore. "I know some of you have places to return to. But I promise this will not be a waste of your time, Grimmjow. If you do this for us, the reward will be something you crave."

"And that is?"

"A step closer to your true objective."

The panther-warrior's face didn't change, but neither did he make any move to leave. The Vizard watched both Hollows, deliberating on this new turn of events. I always knew this would happen. They don't give a damn about me. I'm just another tool for them. Is there any way for me to get out of this?

"The same goes for you…"

Tia Halibel turned her attention on him, causing the Vizard to stiffen.

"Succeed in this mission, and we will rid you of your greatest fear." She placed her hands on the surface of the pond and levered herself up, stretching her bewitching bulk with a sigh. The sight was disturbingly erotic to a part of himself the masked warrior wished he could attribute to his Hollow side. Before it could even call him on that, she had resumed speaking. "Your shared destination is Soul Society, but from that point on, your paths will diverge. Information shall be provided as to how you may proceed from there."

"W… WAIT!"

Everyone was watching him now, but he couldn't allow that to dissuade him.

"The other Vizard are bound to notice if any of us are absent for an extended period of time! If we're caught that's the end for me. And…" Another point struck him like a blow to the head. "And the Wild Hunt can't enter Soul Society!" He gestured back at Cernunnos, who remained still as one of the stone trees around them. "Grimmjow has his pack, but without the Hunt, my side is at a disadvantage!"

"Not so." Halibel reached up to trace around the hole below her breasts, smiling at him in a way that might have been coy were it not so ravenous. "You do have one noteworthy ally who can travel with you. And they can even act independently, so you needn't risk exposing yourself. It all depends on how skillfully you use the resources you have at hand."

What? Who…?

Oh, no.

The blood goddess took his shoulders sagging as a sign that he understood her intent. Giving no further acknowledgement of his horror she came back around.

"Now, then. The name of our new target is Mayuri Kurotsuchi."

---

"You'll die. Worse yet, you'll take your family with you. And Rania still won't be saved."

Ingelbert glared at his host. Looking up from the book he was reading, Ulric leaned back in the plush leather chair.

"You're being allowed the run of the town at my insistence, but don't assume I'll let you put innocent lives in danger to satisfy a needless sense of heroics."

"What do you know about it?" the brash youth bit back.

In response Sterne tilted his glasses up and affixed him with a cold look that made the Gypsy flinch and grit his teeth in spite of himself. "My family has history here, in case you haven't noticed. Birkenstrad isn't the only town under Totholtz's rule. There are two others in this forest alone… used to be three. Before I was born, somebody from that place got it into his head to invade the castle during daylight hours to slay the Graff. Even convinced a large band to join in. Strength in numbers, and all that."

He gestured at the warm sunlight spilling through a window into his family's library. "Strigoi and other night-folk are weakened by the sun, you're right about that much. But they are by no means helpless. As those fools learned to their sorrow. After the Graff was done with them, he burned their village to the ground. Worse things were done to the inhabitants." The physician turned back to his medical tome, flicked a page viciously as he continued to read. "Not a soul survived. The other towns got the message. This is his domain."

For all his reserve, Ingelbert couldn't suppress a shiver. Swiftly he rallied and came stalking forward to slam both hands down on the table. "You said your grandfather fought them, that he knew of ways to beat the demons, that he was some kind of town hero!" He pointed to the painting of the old man on the wall. "Why can't you do the same?"

This time Sterne didn't look at him, but a frown gave his noble face a bitter cast. "Grandfather used to tell me stories about what life was like when he was my age… before the Graff came back from the war. Before our lives went to hell. There were werewolves back then, but scattered and few. With the proper equipment and training they could be hunted successfully."

Slowly he closed the book on the table before him. A snarling wolf's head was emblazoned on the red leather cover. A look of similar ferocity lurked in Ulric's bright blue eyes when he looked up. "With the rise of Totholtz that changed. Now they had a leader. And there are even worse things than werewolves in these woods now. Grandfather fought them for as long as he could. But he grew old. And his… heir…" a vicious twist of the lip on that word, "proved unworthy. So he set to teaching me at a young age. I learned all I could… before one of the Graff's minions killed him. Now I save those I can, without the use of his teachings… while I wait for a time to strike. And take my revenge."

Ingelbert leaned back and crossed his arms. "Then help me. Help me kill this Totholtz, and save Rania. It's the only way to keep our loved ones safe."

At this Ulric's eyes drifted down the long library, to where the lovely Adelaide busied herself shelving books. The constable's daughter took note of his gaze and offered a small, sad smile in return. Brushing a strand of fiery orange hair back behind one ear, she then resumed her work.

"There might…" Ulric conceded slowly, "… be a way."

Glancing over her writing permitted Michiru a touch of pride. Good. Inserted some background, established their hostile partnership, and set up the action. Next chapter I can start them on the way to the castle. Need to remember for the old witch woman to meet them on the way out of town. That's important for the sequel.

Contented, the aspiring author quickly put away her tools and went back to watching the performance. In a large room on the second floor of the Usagi Shoten, several of her classmates continued to work up a sweat under the critical eye of their dance instructor.

"Mahana-san, step out and let me work with you one-on-one. The rest of you keep up the routine."

There were five of them up there, not including Rukia, who proceeded to lead Mahana Natsui off to one side. The rest of the KOPS squad continued swaying and jiggling to the percussion-heavy foreign music. All had been granted costumes courtesy of generous de facto member/mascot Don Kanonji. The sight of so many scarves, veils and bustiers might have led one to believe this was an Arabian harem straight out of 1,001 Nights. None of them looked remotely ashamed to be on display in such attire. Michiru envied them their confidence.

Each dancer boasted select colors. Taking up center stage, Orihime had chosen lime green and lemon yellow, a remarkably flattering combination on her. She was definitely one of the most energetic performers on display, twirling and bouncing with wild abandon. Certainly had the body for it, yet somehow her radiant smile managed to remain perfectly innocent even when engaged in the most salacious poses. Beside her, red and pink highlighted Chizuru Honsho's passion for all to see. For some reason the addition of glasses over the veil only served to make her appearance even more erotic. Hot librarian belly dancer, Michiru mused. As if sensing these thoughts Honsho darted a look her way and winked, causing their sole audience to hastily redirect her attention elsewhere.

Dancing to the other side of Orihime, Kunieda Ryō was rocking a midnight blue ensemble that boasted tiny white gems like stars across the fabric. For some reason Michiru couldn't rid herself of the suspicion that they were diamonds. The Don certainly had extravagant tastes, and coupled to this was her growing suspicion that there might be more to their reserved friend than might initially be perceived. Despite this, Ryō contrived to maintain the look of bored neutrality she affected under normal conditions. To say nothing of the fact that she hadn't even broken a sweat.

Tatsuki Arisawa was absent. Visiting colleges, she said, though privately Michiru wondered if this wasn't an excuse not to attend these sessions. The martial arts prodigy had never looked so awkward as when she was done up in scarves and a veil while being made to display her curves. Clearly the prospect of doing this before the whole school left her ill at ease. Mahana Natsui had donned a brownish satin ensemble with white scarves that proved quite eye-catching. Maybe she was using this as an opportunity to stand out amongst their more dynamic classmates? Couldn't fault her for trying.

Last came Mizuiro Owajima. His costume was forest green and burgundy, consisting of a vest and pantaloons with curly-toed shoes. The delicate-seeming boy still managed to keep pace with his feminine counterparts. Privately she worried if the school's male population saw him up on stage with all these scantily dressed beauties, it might prove the last straw. Grudges of that nature could get very ugly.

For her part, Michiru had elected to join the clairvoyant half of their school presentation along with Ichigo and, against their objections, Keigo and Kon. They practiced separately from the harem party to allow anyone to attend either rehearsal should they so choose. Asano had been frantic at the thought of missing out on watching this performance, but actually participating in it was something he apparently could not bring himself to do, raging libido aside. So they wound up together. It was fairly easy. With Ichigo around, they had at least a part-time ghost able to help them with the routine. Ganju from the shop was only too glad to lend a hand as well after hours. The ghosts then told the blindfolded candidate what to say and they responded aloud. All very easy. The hardest part was making the costumes. Ishida had volunteered for that as his form of contribution. What he finally settled on would no doubt be a wonder.

She took note of the separate lesson going on. "The motion you want comes from your hips as much as your stomach," Rukia explained patiently as she took up position behind Natsui, who held still in attentiveness. "Try it slowly now, and let your center of gravity drop at the same time. "

Small hands took hold of the teen's bare waist to move it rhythmically forward and back. The shinigami maiden still wore that scandalous black and silver outfit they first saw her in. Remembering this made Michiru's face flush as though she were engaged in something inappropriate. I wonder if she wears that costume for Ichigo? I've tried to think of a way to work it into my story, but it's not as easy as one might hope. Maybe Rania could offer to dance for the Graff as some sort of incentive? Hmmm, that might work…

A knock came at the door, and little Ururu peaked her head in. "Pardon me," she mumbled to no one in particular. "That Quincy boy is here to drop something off."

Before Michiru could register the import of that statement the screen opened fully, and he came walking in. "Boy?" Ishida Uryu muttered out the side of his mouth as he stepped past the long-faced waif, who performed a hasty bow and went scampering off. He was carrying a clothes bag draped over one arm along with his school satchel.

"Welcome, Ishida-san," Rukia called. She then addressed her students. "This is a good time for a break. Ohgawa-san, can you stop the music?"

She did so, requiring three hits to find the button owing to her hands seemingly having grown twice their size in the last few seconds. The sight of him tied her stomach up in knots, and she was forced to sit quietly and unobtrusively as the other girls broke off to come forward.

Orihime was the first to reach him, swaying back and forth in a rush of silk. "Hi, Ishida-san! Did you come to watch us practice?"

"Ah… no." The normally staid scholar appeared to be rather flustered if the way his eyes kept darting about was any indication. No surprise. Orihime Inoue could provoke that reaction even when she wasn't half-naked. Not to mention there were five other beauties in the room boasting similar apparel.

At this point he turned to look right at her. "Ohgawa-san, I'm here for you, actually."

"Me?"

Michiru found that she was gaping. And now she was the focus of everyone's attention. For one heart-stopping moment her whole thought process derailed, and Uryu was dressed in the raiment she imagined Graff Totholtz wearing, all smooth and smoldering. He approached her, every step a magnificent testimonial to male power. The trembling girl was enveloped in his shadow, dreading and yearning for what must certainly come next. Take me, the words were almost on her lips.

"I've brought your costume."

And just like that reality kicked her private dream in the teeth. The embarrassment was so strong it hurt.

Unaware of how his words had affected her, the Quincy unzipped the clothes bag and removed its contents with a flourish. "What do you think?"

The eager pride in his voice only increased her discomfort. Not owing to the quality of the work. That was flawless. Just as she had requested, he now held a big floppy black witch's hat with stars and crescent moons sewn on it. Complete with this was a black cape boasting a high collar to frame her face and a blue satin trim. There were little stars sewn into the interior as well, only these were tiny Quincy crosses in thin silver stitch that made it look like actual stars twinkling against a sable sky. A scarf with gold and burgundy stripes came with it. Undoubtedly the work on all these items was beautiful.

But the fact remained it was a costume, like he said. The sort of thing a child would wear for Halloween in America. Compared to what the other teens here had on, it was just… juvenile.

"Is… something wrong?"

She looked at Uryu. His expression was rather uncertain, like he didn't know what to say or do. Michiru realized then there were tears in her eyes, and she strove to wipe them away and affix a smile before he could question her further. "No, Ishida-kun. I'm just… grateful. Thanks so much for your help! Really, it looks just like I pictured it!"

He relaxed, an artist who had feared criticism of his work might be forthcoming, and proceeded to hand it over to her. Ohgawa took the hat and accoutrements gingerly. Before either of them could say anything more their classmates swept eagerly to the fore.

"Wow, that's amazing! It looks so professional, like something you'd see on TV!"

"I didn't know you could knit. Speaking of which, didn't I see something along those lines in an anime?"

"Maybe we could get a white owl to complete the set."

"One of the ladies I date is big on cosplay. Think you could whip us up some appropriate apparel, Uryu-san?"

"Your shoulders seem stiff, Orihime. Would you like me to help you with that?"

"HEE-YAH!"

This last came when Chizuru seized the opportunity to lovingly fondle Orihime's breasts. Without Arisawa around, apparently she had assumed there would be no one to administer a commensurate beating. Unfortunately for her, it would appear the object of her affection had been boning up on her karate lately. To wit, the startled Orihime reacted by executing a swift and flawless kata-nage shoulder throw that saw Honsho lying on her back blinking up at the ceiling. There then followed a great deal of shouting and apologizing.

"I think that's enough for today," Rukia declared with a fond smile. "I'll see you all at our next rehearsal." Giving a bow like a sensei at a martial arts dojo, she left the room.

Uryu helped the dazed Chizuru to her feet and a teary-eyed Orihime prevailed on him to give her a checkup to make sure nothing was broken. The two of them supported her on either side as they went down the hall. The other girls then proceeded to change into their regular attire and head out. The belly-dancing gear was hung up on a rack near the door.

Michiru lingered in putting her things away. Everyone was so busy talking about their upcoming performance and recent events they barely took any notice of her. In no time she was the last person left. Alone with her thoughts, she unzipped the bag containing her new costume and peered inside. I should be grateful. And really, I am. It made sense at the time. I wasn't about to wear anything so outrageous in front of my classmates, let alone the general public.

And yet…

Her eyes drifted over to the rack containing the dance gear. There were a lot more varieties than just those her friends had on today. The Don had gone a little overboard, as was his wont, so each girl had two different backup outfits in addition to those they would actually be wearing onstage next month. They all looked like they had been enjoying themselves. Or at least, not miserable. Could I ever have the courage to do what they're going to do?

If I did, would anyone notice me?

She drifted over to the rows of clear plastic bags on hooks, running her hands down them. Eventually she came to a halt before two in particular that were noticeably smaller than the rest. For Rukia. Not that she needed any spares seeing as how she wouldn't be dancing with everyone else. It's a shame. They'll probably never be used.

A quick glance behind confirmed that she was alone. All the same, Ohgawa hesitated. That feeling of illicit excitement from before was back, only now accompanied by a twinge of grief. I'm not a little kid. What do I have to be afraid of? If I were as up front with my feelings as Chizuru, things would be so much easier. Of course I'd also have more trips to the hospital, but… maybe I'd get to see him more that way? Win-win.

To her surprise this whole situation was starting to make her feel angry. Oh, come on. What's the big deal? Why am I so afraid? Not like anyone will see.

With that she hung up her tailor-made clown suit and took down one of Rukia's outfits. Hastily, still worried about getting caught, the girl got undressed and went about donning this new and unfamiliar apparel. She'd watched her friends do it, and even helped put them on, but attempting the same for herself proved daunting. There seemed to be no indication of where her arms were supposed to go in this confusing array of sequined silk. But after a few frantic minutes she finally managed to get everything on to her satisfaction.

A full length mirror stood against the back wall to aid in dressing. Michiru edged toward it, anxious at what she'd see there. A kid playing dress-up? Or maybe, just maybe, a young woman finally showing some spirit. I really hope…

Before she could lose her nerve she jumped in front of the mirror. A small gasp emerged from her throat.

Win.

She reached up a trembling hand to touch her cheek, and watched her reflection do the same. Tiny golden ornaments clinked on bracelets around wrists and ankles. Butter-cream yellow silk was further highlighted by gold thread. Her stomach was bare, with a belt made of thin coins linked together to dangle halfway down transparent pantaloons that offered a virtually unchallenged view of her legs. A long yellow scarf draped around her shoulders to go twining about both arms. There was even a small headdress that accentuated the pale veil clipped on to it, leaving only her eyes uncovered.

"Wow," she breathed. It actually fit pretty well. Short chicks of the world, unite!

After a few seconds of taking this all in, the newfound dancing girl grew more bold. At first it was a light shake of the hips, causing the coins to jangle against one another. The clinking noise proved quite pleasing, and she raised her arms to shake her bracelets in counterpoint. A slight tilt of the head downward caused her eyes to become challenging and exotic, enough to seriously make her wonder if there was some magic to this mirror.

No, it's all me. This… is coming from me! Elated, Michiru twirled in place, enjoying the sight of the scarves whipping around as she did.

Doing so also allowed her to finally notice Rukia standing by the doorway watching.

Fearlessness and fortitude vanished in an instant, to be replaced by shame and dread. The anguished teen whipped around to face the shop's owner, who remained unmoving holding the outfits belonging to Orihime and Chizuru. Michiru's mouth opened, quivering on attempts at explanation that never seemed to get past her lips. The room felt cold all of a sudden, and this finally established how she must look.

"S-sorry…!"

Turning about she dashed over to where the clothing bag lay and dropped down beside it. In a panic Ohgawa started pulling off the bracelets accompanied by an outpouring of sobbing words.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking, please don't tell anyone, I didn't mean to, I'll have it cleaned, I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you, please don't tell…!"

There were too many tears and too much crying to make any coherent sense. Unable to see what she was doing, she missed the bag and the jewelry went clinking across the floor. Michiru went still.

Then slowly, numbly, she reached over and pulled her bookbag close. Opening it, she withdrew the stuffed toy Yukimoto that had been her support and comfort for so many years, ever since she was in preschool. What does it matter if she sees? I'm already humiliated. Hugging her closest confidante to her chest, half-dressed in a grown woman's clothes, the miserable soul held on to this comfort and cried for all she was worth.

Michiru's eyes flew wide in shock as she found herself enveloped in a warm embrace.

"It's alright."

Rukia's husky voice sounded right next to her ear, sending a pleasant tingling sensation shooting up her spine. As though this were some signal, Ohgawa simply melted backwards, falling into this show of comfort with a relief that would have surprised her only minutes before. The older woman holding her rocked slowly from side to side. This motion contributed to feeling safe and drowsy. A few trembling spasms went through her, and then she finally relaxed.

Sometime later, how long she couldn't be certain, Rukia let go. She scooted around until she was kneeling right in front of Michiru. Reaching out, the shinigami took hold of the girl's hands which were still clasped around the doll. "There's nothing for you to be ashamed of, Ohgawa-san. You can wear those clothes whenever and wherever you like."

Her head fell.

"No, I can't."

In a shaky voice, Michiru continued. "I can't do the things that you guys do. Not just fighting ghosts, I mean, that's not it, but the easy stuff… being strong with other things, like taking risks, and standing up for myself… I can't do any of that. I can't even…" Here her head darted up only to swiftly tuck back down. "…tell the person I like how I feel. I'm a… coward."

Rukia studied her for a while.

Then she drew them both up. Surprised, the other girl could only follow, unable to even think about resisting. They stood together face to face with only a few inches of distance between them. Michiru's eyes were wide as could be, jaw slack as a hundred conflicting thoughts bounced around inside her brain.

Across from her, Rukia appeared as calm as ever. "Ohgawa-san," the noblewoman said compassionately. "I've seen how it looks when you're scared. Now I want you to show me again… how it looks when you're not."

She leaned forward. Michiru couldn't move away, entranced by those deep violet eyes. Their foreheads pressed firmly together. When Rukia spoke next there was nothing but reassurance to be heard. "Let me see you be brave once more."

Brave?

How? Like… maybe…

Kuchiki took a step back, and then their hands were moving out to either side. The stuffed teddy fell between them. They remained in this mirrored position for a moment.

"Dance with me," Rukia insisted.

To this Michiru managed to whisper, "Okay."

The beautiful brunette nodded in satisfaction. "First, to the right." She led slowly in that direction with her left foot. Her student copied. "And now the other way." Back to the same position, followed by a slide to the left. Dragging bare toes over the floor, Ohgawa tried to think of nothing else but the movements, for fear of losing her nerve. I shouldn't be doing this, a small part of her whispered…

But she asked me to dance!

… and was quickly suppressed.

"Both arms up…"

Rukia raised them overhead, never breaking eye contact for a moment. They held that position long enough for Michiru to feel it in her shoulders.

"… and now raise your knee."

She demonstrated, bringing one knee up and across her hips. Uncertain, Michiru attempted to do the same. She could feel the tension in her ankle, unused as it was to strenuous physical activity. Her sense of balance started to shift. Panic set in, causing a startled lurch of the hips, I'm going to fall…!

Before she could, a hand slid beneath her knee and held on tight. The sense of imminent collapse vanished to be replaced by abject relief. A weak gasp of laughter escaped her throat.

Rukia smiled. Right at that moment she slipped around behind the girl so fast she must have done that shunpo thing. One palm remained securely supporting Michiru's leg, while the other came down to rest on her bare shoulder. Still elated at not having fallen, the teen found herself standing before the mirror once more. But what she saw now was completely different. Like nothing she had ever known.

"You must needs feel joy when dancing," Rukia's words caressed her ear once more. "When you dance, imagine the person you care about most watching, and let it all be for them."

Joy. Another rush of intense pleasure went through her. Michiru rolled the word around her head. Joy! She could not remember experiencing anything quite like this in her entire life. Have I been missing out? There were tears gathering in her eyes.

"Thank you," she finally whispered.

A squeeze of the shoulder, followed by her leg being guided back to solid ground. Michiru turned to find the tiny death god still wearing that gentle lovely smile. And she just had to know the reason.

"Rukia-chan, why are you helping m… us?"

Her pale face tilted to one side. "Because you are alive," she stated simply. Then, as if recognizing that this required clarification, "Now is the time you should be free to experience all life has to offer. I want each of you to have these moments that you will be able to look back on in years and decades to come as part of a full and healthy time on Earth. You shouldn't think less of yourself just because you don't fight demons. That is a shinigami's role, not a mortal's. Instead be at ease knowing there are those who aim to protect you, and take greater joy as a result. Every moment of happiness you can lay claim to is pleasing to me, because it means I have done my duty well."

Rukia's words seemed to grow wistful. "Being alive is not something everyone gets to experience, Ohgawa-san. This is your chance."

Never had Michiru heard such encouragement directed at her before. For years teachers had attempted to exhort her to greater effort, whether in schoolwork or socially. Her own family sought to coax some enthusiasm for her future prospects out of the indrawn and insecure teen. Their efforts were in vain. She simply couldn't bring herself to believe they were true. She wasn't a genius, talented at sports or music or anything, really. Just an average girl of below average height with little to show from 17 years of life and probably not much to look forward to at 70 either.

But what if they were right? Maybe I am capable of a lot more than I thought. Rukia thinks so, and it's not on account of she's my mother, or she gets paid to, but just because… she wants me to.

Michiru was crying again, although this time there was not a hint of shame. Instead she felt hope. Hope that all her dreams might come true, that she wasn't unlucky, and maybe her own life might prove to be something worth writing about instead of just the fantasies in her head. She could be brave. Maybe not like Ichigo, battling Hollows and bullies and saving the world. More like Orihime, who could make friends with anyone, or Tatsuki, who looked forward to new challenges, or even Chizuru, who never shied away from demonstrating how much she loved a person.

"I'll… try," Ohgawa finally managed. "To be brave. I really mean it."

"Good." The young death god squeezed her fingers. "We can talk more later. I'll let you get dressed."

Michiru nodded, and Rukia turned away.

Be brave…

A silk-wrapped frame pressed against Rukia's back, and she gave a gasp as two warm hands reached up to cup her breasts.

"M-Michiru?!" she demanded, startled.

"Please. Just for a second, can we… be like this?"

Rukia grew still then. The hold on her body remained tight, but there was nothing indecent about it. Only a shy sort of tenderness. Nothing more happened, and after a while, Rukia allowed herself to relax. She reached up to take the girl's hands and hold them. Behind her the shuddering subsided. Michiru rested her head on Rukia's shoulder with a grateful sigh. They stayed this way for several seconds, feeling one another's heartbeat through cloth and skin.

At last Ohgawa broke away. Turning around, the shinigami saw her skip over and pick up the stuffed toy from before. Upon coming about Michiru returned and held out the doll. "Do you want this?" she asked. "His name's Yukimoto. I've had him forever, but…" and here a faint smile touched her lips, "I don't think I need him anymore."

Rukia looked at the proffered gift. The face was bizarre, but its ears were rather like a rabbit, and she had to admit it was cute. Her heart warmed at this offering, and she accepted the toy. "Thank you, Ohgawa-san."

"You can call me Michiru… er, -san, if you like." The tiny teen looked away with a blush, but never lost her smile.

"Alright… Michiru-san."

Holding her new prize, Rukia turned and left, closing the door behind her. She leaned back against it for a few moments, wondering what to do next. Eventually she decided Ichigo didn't need to hear about this. He probably wouldn't know how to react anyway. Confronting emotions did not come easy to him, after all. The ghost girl shook her head, smiling at the vagaries of mortal lives. She then stole down the hall.

As she did, something light and warm dropped from the ceiling to land on her shoulder. Upon turning she found a small brown monkey getting comfortable.

"Does that one like girls too, ba-san?" Noboru chattered curiously. "I thought for sure she was hot for that stuck-up needle fetishist."

In response Rukia reached up to rub his soft fur. "It's all right, Noboru. Someone once told me that love can be demanding, but it should always remain beautiful." And the two of them continued on their way.

---

"So how's things at Karakura High? Did they ever fire Misato-sensei?"

"No. She's my homeroom teacher, actually."

"Oh." Oushima Reichi went back to shoveling food into his mouth without stop. Tatsuki sat next to him, picking half-heartedly at the full bowl of steaming white rice. With it there were baked sweet potatoes and grilled fish from a nearby river. Apparently this temple was largely self-sufficient. On the other side of a low table the old priestess Mari-Rin hadn't stopped praying long enough to take a bite, while the bombshell Madame Rao ate her own fare with cheerful decorum. There was something rather… domestic about this scene. Like an actual family having dinner together.

Perhaps it was guilt at this thought that drove her to speak. "I talked to some of the guys from your old… uhhh… crew," Arisawa managed. "They're doing okay… I mean, all things considered." Minus a few broken bones, she silently added to herself.

"Oh, yeah? I'm glad. Haven't seen any of them in over a year. But they're good guys, like you said."

"Right."

Now the only sound was uninterrupted chewing. The sun angled across the room as it made its way toward the horizon. Tatsuki debated. Should I leave? Won't be long before dark.

"And what about… Kurosaki?"

She blinked. "Huh?"

"Y'know. Ichigo." Reichi didn't stop eating. However the pace at which he did had slowed. His voice remained casual as he reached over to pick up his teacup. "You're friends still, right? So how's he doing?"

He took a long sip, and Arisawa studied him closely. From the corner of her eye she noted the two older women doing the same. Something about his manner was off. Did they pick up on that? Was this a sensitive topic?

"Ichigo's fine," she replied cautiously.

"Yeah? He staying out of trouble?"

"About as much as usual."

Reichi set down the cup and stared at the food cooling in front of him. After a while he spoke. "I blamed him, y'know."

Oushima's voice had that soft introspective quality she still couldn't comprehend coming out of his mouth. It was this as much as any lingering suspicions that compelled her to listen and not interrupt. The priestesses both fake and real complied.

"Did they tell you why I'm here?" Her old schoolmate looked over at Tatsuki with a curious expression. She shrugged her shoulders awkwardly. In response a wan smile lifted his lips. "You don't have to say why you've come, Tatsuki-san. I'm a different person than the one you knew. It all changed on… that day. It happened during our freshman year. See, I was chasing after Kurosaki same as always. Lately Ichigo had been acting real dodgy, you remember? All cheerful and goofy. Kinda creeped us out. So me and the boys decided to pound on him to get some answers. Figure out what the deal was, right? Only we didn't reckon on how fast he could run."

Tatsuki reflected. That must have been one of the times Kon was in Ichigo's body.

"Ichigo never tried to get away before. He always fought, even when Sado wasn't around to help him. But he took off, and we went after him, when all of a sudden there was this weird-looking guy just standing in the road."

A violent shiver stole up his body. The bulky teen's eyes were distant, fixated on something she couldn't see. "I only realized afterwards nobody else saw him, 'cept maybe Kurosaki. It seemed like they were looking at each other. But he was right there, and my boys went by him… or through him. And I thought maybe he and Ichigo knew each other, so I called him out. But then he turned around and… that's when I saw the sword. The look on his face… I'll never forget it... the Man in White…"

Tatsuki drew in a startled breath. No way! It couldn't be!

Reichi stopped talking for a few seconds to collect himself. After a bit he seemed to have things under control. "He chased me for what felt like forever, screaming at me to run, howling this crazy laugh. I was so scared, and he was right behind me with a sword. I pissed my pants. Thought I was gonna die. I just kept running until I ran into some cops. I guess folks called the police on me. And I tried to explain what was happening, only… by then he was gone. And they didn't believe me. I spent the night in jail, but I was screaming so much they finally took me to the hospital. Thankfully I never saw him again."

"Hey… Oushima-san," she forced herself to ask. "This guy you saw… did he have white skin? And green eyes?"

"Eh?" He looked over at her. "No. He looked foreign. Like European or American. Kinda like a movie star. But his clothes were weird. And he had this funny necklace." Reichi indicated at his throat. "Like a jawbone, almost."

She forced herself to relax. Okay. Not Ulquiorra. That's good. The relief she felt at this news surprised her. Tatsuki noticed then that they were all looking at her. Uh-oh. "Well… there were stories, y'know?" she hastily sought to explain. "Rumors about some nut in clown makeup hanging around scaring people. I just thought…" Her voice trailed off lamely.

Reichi studied her. "This guy wasn't any plain old psycho, Tatsuki-san. He was a ghost, a spirit from the world beyond."

The girl kept herself under close control. Don't give anything away. Can't have him getting suspicious.

"I can see you don't believe me." That eerily normal smile was back when he spoke. "I know it sounds crazy, but the truth is I started seeing ghosts wherever I went. There was an old lady with a meat cleaver, and this little girl with long black hair. But worse than that were the demons." He shuddered. "Big ugly things with white masks. It got so bad I couldn't even leave the house. My folks sent me to a sanatorium, but I kept seeing ghosts there too. And then I started dreaming about these things coming out of me when I slept. Like bats. Real spooky stuff. I thought I was losing my mind."

The young acolyte took a deep breath, and when he let it out his whole body language had cleared. Completely at peace. "But this local TV star heard about me, and he said that I should come here, to Kioshimura Temple. There I'd be safe and they could try to cure whatever curse got placed on me. And it worked, Tatsuki-san!" Reichi's face looked so radiant when he turned back it left her somewhat dazzled. "The day I arrived and started working here, all the ghosts went away! And those hallucinations stopped as well. The blessings of the Buddha have granted me peace, so that I no longer have to fall asleep or wake up in fear anymore!"

"Are you sure it's not just a fluke?" He looked at her funny, and Tatsuki couldn't blame him. What am I saying? Before she could stop herself, she pressed on. "What I mean is, maybe you just needed some time to clear your head. Being out in the woods, away from civilization and all that, could be you just… needed to recharge your batteries."

'Oh, c'mon, Tatsuki, really?' she chided herself. You know for a fact what he went through was real. Why are you trying to convince him otherwise? Or is he not the one I'm trying to sway?

"I wish that was the case." Here Oushima shrugged. "At first I thought I might be cured. But whenever I leave here, even just to go down to the park, they start coming back. The ghosts, I mean. There's lots of dispossessed spirits wandering around these mountains. Some of them talk to me. It's spooky, like I said. So I stay here in the temple. They can't get in. Maybe one day, if I cleanse my body and spirit, I'll be able to rejoin the world. Until then I have to atone for the sins of my youth and help make peace with those who have departed. It's the only way for me to appease the spirits."

"That's right, sonny!" old lady Mari-Rin interjected at this point. "The spirits are always with ye!"

WHAT?! Those all too familiar words wrenched Tatsuki out of the angsty trip she was taking. She turned a look of startled shock on the geriatric nun. "Wh… what did you say?"

"The spirits are always with ye!" Her pudgy wrinkled face bore an undeniable look of pride now. "Those be the watch words of me family, our motto, ye might say! We been doin' battle with evil spirits since the time of Toyotomi, don'tcha know! Why, my grandson's the one who brought this wastrel boy to my attention! He's got his own variety program on the television set." And here she crossed both arms over her chest. "BWA-HA-HA-HA-HAH!"

'Oh my god, she's a Kanonji!'

An amused giggle escaped the lovely Rao. She dabbed at her lips with a napkin and rose smoothly upright. "On that note, Jimmy-kun, I believe you should be getting ready for the evening prayers. Don't want to fall behind on your purification, right?"

"Yes, Madame Rao!" He leapt up enthusiastically, only to hesitate. Oushima glanced down. "Say, Tatsuki-san, do you maybe want to participate as well?"

Her brow furrowed on reflex. "In what?"

"Our nightly prayers to ward off evil and appease the spirits. Can she, Mari-sama?"

He rounded on the senior priestess, who offered a sour grunt. "Mind yer place, whippersnapper! This be not something for tourists to gawk at! The holy rituals of our order must be observed with utmost solemnity and mindfulness of their importance." She cast a beady eye upon Tatsuki. "If there be a trace of doubt in yer heart, then seek not to intrude on our work lest ye endanger this boy's soul."

The way the old woman was regarding her sent a flush of anxiety through Arisawa's body. Oh shit, she knows!

"Now, Mari-chan, don't be a party-pooper," Madame Rao clucked in admonishment. She threw a wink at the trembling Tatsuki before proceeding. "I'm sure this young lady means no harm. And she's done nothing to indicate a disrespect for your sainted prowess. Why not let her observe and take whatever good she can from it?"

To this the resident shaman grumbled something that might have been concession as she rose to shuffle off. "Well, that's that!" Rao sang. "Looks like you're with us, sweetie!"

Oushima turned back to Tatsuki with another blazing grin. "You won't regret it! It's very peaceful! I mean, if you… are having any issues with bad karma or… stuff like that, it might help." He trailed off, though that hopeful light in his face remained. "No worries if it's not your thing."

Tatsuki gazed at him.

"Sure."

---

"Lord-Commander," his lieutenant spoke outside from outside the office door. "The representatives of the Vizard are on their way. You wished to be informed of their arrival?"

At that very moment Byakuya Kuchiki finished the last piece of paperwork on his desk and rose. Sublime timing. All trivial matters were dealt with for the day. It was time to focus on what was relevant. The head of the Gotei 7 retrieved his zanpakutō from its stand and slipped it into his sash. He strode to the door and swept outside. Abeyant, his first officer leapt to his feet and took up step beside him.

"The senkaimon is ready in the parade grounds outside, sir," Izuru Kira informed him. Here the lieutenant of Greyhound Company hesitated. "I've also… notified their families beforehand to assure smooth passage. I wasn't sure if you wished to be consulted on the matter, so I… assumed it wouldn't be an issue."

"It is not."

Kira wisely chose not to pursue any further conversation. The rest of their journey was made in silence. Members of Greyhound bowed or moved out of the way upon spotting the two high-ranking officials. Their journey through the division was swift and certain. He gave no outward sign of noticing, but Byakuya was pleased by what he observed in his subordinates. They carried out their duties efficiently and with no undue friction. In the year since blending the leaderless and disparate elements of the Gotei 13 into new working arrangements, the dedication of the officers had been put on display for all to see, and it was good. Though not one to shirk his official responsibilities, the Lord of the Kuchiki knew full well that one person could not possibly do everything necessary to run a household, much less an entire division of shinigami, nor the Gotei 7 itself. Capable adjutants made all the difference. He was glad to find the thinning of their ranks and loss of senior personnel had not dimmed the ardent desire these brave men and women held to carry out the administration of Soul Society.

It was no small task. Over twenty different versions of the Halos were currently up and running and seven new planes of the afterlife had been established, with more on the way. At present perhaps some 30% of all the souls under their care were enjoying permanent habitation, with another 60% occupying the relocation centers designed for temporary living. The remainder could be found here in the lingering Court of Pure Souls. Keeping such mammoth enterprises running with a limited workforce had sapped their collective energy over the past two years. It required substantial contributions from both his family and the other Great Houses. Some had worried the abandonment of the Rukongai and transfer of its population to new planes might cause the Seireitei to lose its influence in the afterlife. After all, they argued, why would anyone wish to stay here and serve noble families when they could retire to a comfortable paradise of their choice? And logically that had been a cause for concern.

The reality of the matter proved otherwise. In fact, the demonstration of support they had wrung out of the other Houses actually served to amplify their standing amongst regular souls. And that had been precisely what his partner assured him would happen. For too long the Gotei 13, Central 46 and noble houses had lived walled off from their charges, both figuratively and literally. The residents of the 80 Districts hardly ever heard what was going on at Court, much less met someone from there. They were so aloof as to practically not exist as far as the Rukongai was concerned, with only token representation by shinigami who, it had to be admitted, were not all exemplary models of their order.

Yet having been exposed to the power and bounty of their celestial overseers, the bewildered pluses of Soul Society now stood in awe. Forced relocation to prevent any loss of life during the Autumn War, followed by the revelation that they would not be required to return to the squalor which some were accustomed to but none could say they enjoyed, meant a new page had turned in the history of Soul Society. Of course, the public could not be allowed to realize how stretched thin their resources actually were. Shinigami and representatives of the noble houses worked grueling shifts and wore several different hats in this new organization. The emphasis on care and management rather than combat certainly helped in that regard. Not counting Tiger and Siamese Divisions, the average shinigami now spent less than 25% of their time on Hollow purification. Far more was allocated to overseeing proper soul burial of those spirits lingering within the mortal plane so as not to cause a backlog or allow possible swelling of the defeated Hollow Nation, which itself had not recovered from its losses.

They had managed to keep things stable so far. This was gratifying on several levels. Although on occasion Byakuya caught himself reflecting on how very precarious this whole situation was. The loss of support here, a collapse of authority there, and their world could plummet into chaos. Which was what made it so very essential to keep those in power favorably inclined and involved in their workings. To ignore or diminish any side risked alienating valuable comrades, not to mention future allies.

With that in mind, I sincerely hope it does not become necessary to execute Renji.

No doubt he would be properly grateful to hear such sentiment on your part.

You try my patience, Senbonzakura.

His Lordship will forgive me, I trust. I am one ally you would not wish to dispense with.

No. Simply muzzle on occasion.

It is part of my duty to keep you aware of those matters you might otherwise choose to ignore. To wit, the disposition of your sister and her matrimonial prospects?

I have taken measures. What more do you wish of me?

It could be worse. Recall the last person to come forward for her hand…

Izuru stumbled a bit as his superior ground to a halt. He recovered and hurriedly scuttled a respectful and proper step behind. "Sir? Is something wrong?"

Byakuya turned to look at him. Lieutenant Kira felt unnervingly distressed at the flat look in those deep gray eyes, behind which, unpleasant memories were resurfacing…

---

"To what do I owe this visit, Captain Kurotsuchi?"

Sitting across from him, the crazed clown picked up a skewer of gyuniku no kushiyaki on the plate before him and spun it between thumb and forefinger. He did not take a bite, however, a fact which did not go unnoticed by his stone-faced but nonetheless courteous host. 'Ill intentions personified,' Byakuya thought to himself.

"Yes, let's get right to the point, Lord Kuchiki," that outlandish madman beamed. He affected a new style of dress following his reconstitution as a result of the ryoka invasion. Mayuri Kurotsuchi now very closely resembled an Egyptian pharaoh. Byakuya could not tell if this was meant to be a jibe at his expense or not. Understanding the workings of such a mind did not rank high on his list of aspirations.

At least he consented to be disarmed. Though perhaps, like Captain Soifon, that only included what is visible to the naked eye?

Which is why you remain close at hand.

A fact I consider to reflect true wisdom on your part, milord. This man is a scoundrel and a blackguard.

Seated a proper distance behind her master, Nemu Kurotsuchi had not changed her attire in the slightest since they first met years ago. She maintained a reserved and respectful air which in anyone else would have been most commendable, but in this case, often left him leery of what might be the reason for such behavior. What would be done to her were Nemu to ever speak out of turn or try and behave like most of the other lieutenants currently serving? Would she be annihilated and replaced with another version identical to the first so that no one could tell the difference? Did Mayuri keep a stock of replacement Second Seats on hand despite being expressly forbidden to do so by the Chamber of 46 (currently enjoying oblivion themselves)?

"I am here," Mayuri trilled in his unnervingly high-pitched voice, "to help you with a matter that will be of benefit to both of us! We are busy men, so with that in mind, permit me to be blunt!" And here he drew himself up with a very self-satisfied chuckle. "I have come to ask for your sister Rukia's hand in marriage!"

SCHWICK!

-Senbonzakura leapt from its sheathe to slice through Mayuri's neck so fast his head spun round and around several times atop its perch. When it gradually slowed to a stop back in its original position, the jaw was still working faintly up and down, eyes staring forward in profound shock. Only with the 'click' of the sword being returned to its scabbard did the rootless skull tip forward and land in the scientist's lap, cradled in his hands, still blinking...-

Mayuri blinked and rubbed a hand over his neck. He frowned at the motionless noble in front of him, who had not moved a fraction of an inch or responded aloud. That was a very… precise killing intent illusion. Rather artistic in its attention to detail.

Now, where was I? Ah, yes…

"You must have heard by now that the young lady approached me during her brief but noteworthy tenure as head of your clan. This was done with the intention of employing my efforts on her behalf. While initially wary, I consented to the project out of respect for certain shared experiences, and after several weeks I have developed an appreciation for her that is…"

-Before he could finish, Byakuya made the faintest of signs, and immediately two big burly Kuchiki guardsmen came storming in. One of them seized Mayuri's wrists to prevent him from moving, while the other grasped him by the head and snapped his neck with a sudden powerful twist. They then hoisted the dead body between them and jogged soundlessly from the room to fling it upon a blazing bonfire. There it blackened and popped like meat on a spit, the smoke and stench causing many passersby to cough and complain of the smell…-

A slight cough interrupted his speech. The look the Squad Twelve captain now directed at his counterpart in the Sixth was rather huffy. Yet still Byakuya offered no reaction to indicate either approval or disapproval, which was rather offensive in its own right! Really, he had expected some slight pushback, but certainly his well-reasoned arguments could still persuade this upstart buffoon!

"… shared, I'm certain. Our arrangement has been strictly professional up to this point, which is why I can understand if my proposal catches you unawares. However after giving it some thought the advantages seemed obvious to me. Her financial backing has proven most becoming, and I confess to being highly motivated in terms of my research as a result, not to mention my staff expressing rather more verve in their own efforts than I am wont to demand. As such, I can safely say…"

-A noose wrapped around Mayuri's neck to strangle his next words. Kicking and clawing ineffectually, he was hauled off his feet to dangle from the high branch of a tree. At this point several Kuchiki retainers came forward armed with bow and arrows and proceeded to feather his struggling form repeatedly from all sides until he resembled a pincushion. The bleeding corpse was left there to rot. Soon enough ravens and other carrion birds alighted upon it to begin pecking out the eyes and other soft fleshy parts before proceeding to…-

Outrageous! Breathing heavily, he shook off this latest unwarranted assault on his dignity and bulled on ahead. "… THAT…! CONSIDERING…! Our… amicable work relationship… and the fact that she has… impressed me with her daring and ingenuity, we would make a suitably compatible pairing! Now I am sure you will agree that in light of her average intellect and lack of current suitors, a candidate such as myself would be considered a godsend, and that I would consent to take her off your hands is…"

-The next one involved Nemu. He made sure they both felt it.-

Livid beyond words, Mayuri Kurotsuchi surged to his feet to face the Kuchiki lord with quivering limbs and face contorted by rage. Beside him Nemu blinked a few times as she came out of the illusion, eyes somewhat larger than they had been before.

Several seconds passed in which nothing was said.

At last Mayuri spun about. "NEMU! WE ARE LEAVING!" he barked. And with that the captain stormed from the room.

In the interim, the lord of the manor lifted his teacup with all outward appearance of calm. He paused, however, upon noticing that Nemu remained in the same spot, and furthermore she was giving him a very… penetrating look.

Still sitting seiza, the purple-haired woman scooted a bit closer to him.

"NEMU!"

With great alacrity she came to her feet, bowed most elegantly, and shot in pursuit of her father.

Now alone, Byakuya Kuchiki stood and took his leave, allowing the servants to clean up any remaining trace of this meeting, which they knew without having to be told would never be spoken of again and certainly not in the vicinity of the precious Lady Rukia, upon penalty of death by torture…

---

Byakuya turned his attention from his anxious lieutenant. "No. Let us proceed."

After a few minutes they made their way to the parade grounds where the senkaimon gate was set up. White light was already spilling through it as they approached, and several masked sorcerers from the Kidō Corps gave respectful bows. There the two officers took up position before the portal in preparation to wait. It shouldn't be long…

A pair of hell butterflies bobbed lazily through the open gateway, and hot on their heels emerged two figures whose auras almost made Byakuya go for his saber. Feeling irritated at this lingering PTSD, he stepped up to greet them both. "Otoribashi-san. Aikawa-san. Welcome back to Soul Society."

"Thank you, Lord-Commander." Rojuro 'Rose' Otoribashi dipped a graceful obeisance. He then looked around and took a long breath. A shiver passed up his spare frame, and he ran one long-fingered hand through curly blond locks. "That really is quite a difference. The air is singing, I'm not ashamed to admit." And he smiled tiredly. "Good to be home."

"We appreciate you meeting us, Commander Kuchiki," said Robu 'Love' Aikawa. Unlike the other Vizard, his face was largely inscrutable, eyes hidden behind a set of midnight shades. Bushy hair had been cut short and now formed a sort of helmet around his head. The hulking hybrid still had on a green tracksuit as opposed to his partner's elegant dress pants, dinner jacket and collared shirt. One notable accessory they shared was a zanpakutō held securely in readiness for assault. Even here, there remained a sense of caginess about these men that belied their outward cool exteriors. Still not fully safe, in any world. The idea gave Byakuya a touch of remorse.

By this point Rose had noticed Kira hanging back. With a laconic smile he saluted the former 3rd Division lieutenant. "Good to see you again, Kira-fukutaichou."

"An honor, sir," Izuru inclined his head respectfully. "The family will be pleased to have you here, even if only for a short time."

"It seemed like the appropriate moment," Rose glanced between them with deceptively lazy eyes. "If the clans are joining together, I should at least reassert my oath of loyalty, considering they declared me legally dead for over a century." He then turned back to the Lord-Commander with a somewhat more solemn expression. "That being said, let me take this opportunity to express my gratitude to you, Lord Byakuya Kuchiki. Taking young Izuru on as your Second was a mark of honor and goodwill. Considering we're both vassals to the Arashi, I appreciate your confidence in us." He then performed the bow to a superior.

"He has served us faithfully." Byakuya spoke the lie without flinching. His gaze then came to linger on the taciturn Love. "I was given to understand one of the lieutenant-class Vizard would be accompanying you. Is there any reason why this was not so?"

"Well, y'see, that's on me." The big man shrugged sheepishly. "Rose needed to make the trip, and Shinji suggested Lisa go with him so she could visit Old Man Kyōraku. But she owed me a favor, and I was going sort of stir-crazy over there, so…" He held up his hands in a helpless fashion. "I really just wanted to eat some good cooking for a little while."

The captain let this information wash over him without effect. Such a dangerous request, allowing two captain-level Vizard to be absent from the battleground that was Hueco Mundo. Their small force could conceivably be ambushed while their ranks were so depleted. And yet he must perforce allow it. While no longer a player in the game legally speaking, Rojuro's family was still beholden to the Arashi clan, and maintaining good relations was absolutely paramount considering the nature of things. Any suspicions as to their allegiance would have to remain unvoiced until such time as solid evidence presented itself to the contrary. Rose was also Kira's second cousin once removed on his mother's side, so authorizing this trip was of benefit to their relatively minor household as well.

"I've made accommodations available for you at the family manor," Izuru then turned to Love. "Aikawa-sama, will you honor us with your presence as well?"

"Oh, hey, love to, but I'm actually angling to shack up with an old friend of mine." Love clapped a hand on Rose's shoulder and bent down to give a stage whisper in his ear, "I'll fill you in on the details later. Like if she's got a sister who's just your type."

"Really starting to wish I'd brought Hiyori instead," his longtime friend remarked with dry humor. "Well, Kira-kun, looks like it's just you and me." Then to Byakuya, "With your leave, my lord, we shall depart."

He nodded acquiescence, while the two noblemen bowed in turn. Kira indicated for his relative to follow along and the two men began chatting casually while they walked. In the meantime Love saluted the head of the Gotei 7, waiting only for another faint inclination of the head to take that as leave to depart. He turned and hustled off, clearly eager to make contact with someone of the more feminine pursuit. Though whether this stemmed from carnal demands or simply a grumbling belly was not so easily determined.

Kuchiki signed for the waiting mages that they may depart. He then went on his way back to Greyhound Division headquarters.

Do you suspect either of them?

I suspect all of them. But I will wait until receiving word from our allies before making any attempts. As Grandfather was wont to point out, when baiting a Great House, one must needs practice both caution and patience.

Trust in the Shihoin to root out any malfeasance. Just don't be surprised if they dig up more than you anticipated.

Duly noted. I believe I will contact Urahara now and learn if he has proven his usefulness. We still have much to learn before proceeding any further.

---

Urahara Kisuke lifted his head from a sheaf of paperwork on his desk with a banal smile. "Welcome, Abarai-taichou. Have a seat!"

"Uhh… thanks."

His red coxcomb dipped as he sank into a chair, fidgeting restlessly. Renji Abarai cast a suspicious look around the room. Most shinigami had nightmares about finding themselves in the Research & Development Bureau. Certainly was well warranted, if rumors could be believed. Of course that was under Mayuri Kurotsuchi's tenure. Now… nobody knew what to think. The place wasn't exactly welcoming with Urahara in charge, nor was it blatantly horrifying. Kinda like… an in-law that you didn't know very well but suspected didn't like you.

Poetic. You should try…

… that silver tongue on Nel. She might appreciate it.

Whatever. Just be ready to have my back if the scalpels come out, okay?

Zabimaru's consent was felt, not spoken. Still it helped him to relax. The junior captain drummed his fingers on the armrests and peered about. Sunlight washed through the office from screens upon the walls that showed breathtaking panoramas of Soul Society. Kisuke had gone back to his paperwork with Nemu Kurotsuchi hovering beside him. Occasionally they would murmur together in low voices; one could only assume it had everything to do with a captain's duties and nothing to do with… uhhhh…

"Why am I here?"

Both the Ibis Squad Captain and Lieutenant paused in their collaboration and looked up at him. Their expressions held an uncomfortably similar quality of deadness he did not like. Finally Urahara spoke. "Nothing to be concerned about, Abarai-taichou. Commander Kuchiki has simply requested that everyone involved in the Hell emissary's initial appearance undergo some testing to make sure there has been no lasting malign influence on your soul as a result."

"Malign?"

"Indicating negative or hostile qualities," Nemu responded crisply.

"I know what it means!" Renji retorted in peevish tones. Don't I? He shook his head and got back on track. "I was more confused about what you think that thing… er… Jigoku could have done to us when it only just stands there whistling the same tune!"

"Well, we can never be too careful." His fellow division head stamped a form cheerfully and handed it off to his subordinate.

Renji scowled. Am I going to have to spend all day with this nutjob? This is starting to feel like when I mooched off him back in the living world. A thought occurred then. "So has there been any word on Mayuri?"

The pen stilled in its travel across the paper. Urahara looked up at him. "Why do you ask?" His tone was even, but there was a glint in those grey eyes which betokened something unhealthy.

Is it mandatory that the head of this place be utterly terrifying? "Because that's how we're going to make Jigoku go away, right?"

Silence. Then the piercing gaze slid down once more. "Working on it." And he went back to scribbling in silence. After a bit Urahara signed his name with a flourish and set down his pen. "Okay, time to dissect you."

"WHAT?!" Renji bolted upright.

"Oops, did I say that out loud? Just kidding!" The blonde maniac had produced a fan and was waving it gaily. "Helps to break the ice in these situations. There's no call for exploratory surgery." Upon noticing the look of terror still being directed at them, Urahara turned his head and said, "Nemu-chan, put those away. I really was only teasing."

A wealth of small sharp utensils disappeared around her person, and the glum-faced vice-captain stood with arms behind her back once more. "Only teasing," she reiterated with distinctly less reassurance than her commander. Abarai Renji retook his seat with a wary look. He glanced over by the door to confirm Zabimaru was where he had left it in its sheathe before retaking his seat.

"And we're all friends again!" Urahara skipped lightly over and tapped a pedal on the base of Renji's chair. At once it collapsed into a reclining position, taking the startled Siamese Captain with it. A plinth rose to one side, and the research head began tapping away at its console. In response a soft orange balm arose around Renji, causing his skin to tingle.

"Have you experienced any unusual symptoms lately, Abarai-kun?"

Beads of sweat coalesced on his tattooed brow. Might as well get this over with. "No."

"Fatigue, dizziness, loss of appetite, anything?"

Without warning Nemu stood beside him and grasped his wrist. She held on firmly, raising her other hand to look at it as though checking a watch, even though she wore no such thing. "No," the brash ruffian declared through gritted teeth. "Fit as a fiddle."

Urahara raised his head. "Any bad dreams?"

The hold on his wrist tingled slightly, and a chill swept through him. Renji…

He swallowed and declared in a firm voice, "No." Then he added, "At least… nothing I can remember afterwards."

"I see."

The tapping of the screen, faint sounds of wind that might have been coming from the pictures displayed on the walls; other than that, all was quiet. Though the way Nemu now stared at him made him wish to be absent.

Remember that time the two of you…

… sucked face at a party?

I wish you hadn't reminded me.

You never tried to pursue the affair, even after…

… her father was gone. Perhaps she's still interested?

We didn't have an affair! It was one time! Besides, I'm already in a committed relationship. Seriously, what's got you two so horn-dog all of a sudden?

"Well, I can't find anything to cause distress," Kisuke announced in airy fashion. He sent the controls back into the ground, stretched a moment as though to ease a kink in his back, and gave a satisfied sigh before walking off. "Stay here for a bit longer, will you, Renji-kun? Maybe take a nap or some such. Need to report in, won't be a minute, promise."

With a beckoning gesture to his lieutenant, the leaders of this division made their way from the room. Urahara glanced back as the door swished shut. "Pleasant dreams!"

Renji settled into the admittedly comfortable chair and shifted into a better position. Clasping his hands over his stomach, he gazed contemplatively at the breathtaking vista of mountains and trees before him.

You buy that?

Not on your…

… life.

Then we're in agreement.

With that he gave a sharp tug on the nearly invisible string wrapped around his wrist. In response his zanpakutō flew across the room to be caught neatly in one hand. Satisfied, he closed his eyes and waited, ears tuned for the slightest hint of danger. Can't be too careful…

---

"Well?"

Nemu Kurotsuchi held out her hand palm up. Tiny needles slid from the tips of her fingers, and a small holographic display appeared. "The data I collected on him is largely to be expected. The spell Cloud over Moon is still active, and remains the only evidence of her magic lingering in his system. However, this is partly due to knowing what I was searching for. A less precise analysis might not have registered it at all. As such, I cannot determine with any measure of exactitude if further connection between them exists."

Urahara examined the readout intently. After a while he turned and crossed his arms to watch another display screen showing their fellow officer where they had left him. He had armed himself immediately following their departure. A wise precaution, Renji-kun. You never know who's on your side in this mess. "And what is your personal assessment?"

Unlike her previous immediate response, the artificial soul took a few moments to consider this. She was probably getting her thoughts in order, but a small petty side of him liked to think it was because Nemu still found herself unaccustomed to being asked that by her boss. Mayuri probably never queried her opinion about anything. See? I'm a nice guy!

"Considering the opponent we are dealing with, I can reasonably conclude that we will not know her intention until after the point where any efforts to prevent it are rendered moot."

"Glad you think so highly of our efforts," Urahara sighed. Well, data can only get you so far. Lest we discount the comfort of a fresh pair of eyes…"And what do you think, Soifon?"

The assassin emerged from the shadows of this observation room and took up place beside them. "He is definitely still under their control." Her narrow eyes locked on the red-haired brawler who remained unaware of their perusal. "His behavior at Yamamoto's funeral is proof positive. There is no other explanation for him to act in such a manner."

"He might have been overcome with grief," Kisuke supplied semi-facetiously. "Or perhaps it was a spiritual connection! Who knows, young Renji there might have been the Old Man's illegitimate son, did you ever consider that?"

"The addlepated fantasies of a diseased brain," she shot back in a tone that brooked no argument.

Her words made him smile, but not for long. The three of them continued to gaze at their patient/prisoner. Urahara felt a peculiar tiredness in his limbs that reminded him uncomfortably of his exile spent in the mortal realm. He hadn't experienced anything like that since his return. It made him wonder when was the last time he took a break, got away from work and the demands of his own inquisitive mind and just… exulted in his continued existence.

But there could be no time for rest. Not with all that was at stake. And not just peril demanded attention. The wedding of four Great Houses was fast approaching. That was an event not to be missed. Perhaps their enemies shared his impression? If I can prevent that, then I will. I want no more regrets hanging over me.

She has a mouth on her, that one.

Urahara shivered.

Don't. Please.

Why do you beg? We meant no harm. Simply noting the… family resemblance.

"If you'll excuse me," he said aloud, turning to the exit with all attempts at nonchalance, "I really do have to report to the Lord-Commander. Lieutenant, let me know if anything noteworthy occurs. Ciao, ciao, gratzi, and we're done!"

Soifon's snort of disdain as he left came as a relief. Best not tempt fate any further. And his services were in demand. She would no doubt be informing Yoruichi of this herself. Save me the trouble. Wonder if Nemu will be reporting to anyone? Besides our office sculpture, that is.

If at first you don't succeed, eh, boy?

Yes, thank you, Benihime. It's good to be reminded of my fallibility.

Let us know when you plan to try again. We shall contrive to be absent.

As you command.

---

Dusk drifted over the Seireitei, sending exhausted shinigami to their beds and night crews leaping into action. Light from the stars was still too faint to be seen. The moon was now the greatest source of illumination in the sky. Having made excuses to his host, the Vizard slipped out under cover of twilight and traveled to the agreed-upon rendezvous point where he settled in to wait. Time went by slowly. He could feel each passing moment like a dagger looming overhead, every second out in the open increasing the chance that he might be caught and killed. Waiting was always the hardest part of any clandestine endeavor.

Do you imagine you'll be brave and stoic, dying with dignity like Hachi did?

Be quiet.

Or maybe it'll involve weeping and begging for a quick and merciful death? Yeah, sounds about right to me.

If you don't shut the hell up, I'll simply have to banish you again.

And run the risk of being alone with him? As if.

Mocking laughter receded inside his head. Wrapped in a black cloak, the Vizard huddled against a tree, mask roaming about the forest depths for any sign of movement.

"He's right, y'know. You're probably going to die here."

Without bothering to look up, the masked warrior took a firmer grip on the golden thread coiled around one fist. Across from him, Ichigo's Hollow crouched on its haunches, never taking its eyes off him. It fingered the line of magic emerging from the crescent moon in its chest experimentally. As if debating whether it could destroy him before he could give the word.

"Remember I'll be aware of any attempts you might make," the Vizard warned. "Do anything to endanger me or your host unnecessarily, and I'll end you. Got it?"

The way it smiled was maddening. It just screamed condescension, in spite of the fact that each knew his threat wasn't a hollow one. He could dispel it! But they both also recognized that this was his only advantage. Take that away, and he would be dead in an instant.

"Yo, dipshits. Been waiting long?"

The Vizard tensed. Damn those sombra! Even I can't tell when he's close anymore?! He managed to turn his head without undue haste. Sure enough Grimmjow Jaguerjaques came padding through the trees and stopped to consider them, hands stuffed in his pockets and blue eyes half-closed in languid distaste. They flickered over to where the Hollow stood, and a particularly ravenous leer stole up his lean face.

"Well, sunnuvabitch," he intoned in mocking fashion. "I heard you were on our side now, Kurosaki, but I didn't really buy it. Guess a picture's worth a thousand words, huh?" Grimmjow laughed and shoved a hand through his unruly mop of turquoise hair.

"Call me that again and I'll neuter you, Jack-Yer-Sack," the Hollow shot back.

One blue eyebrow rose. "Got something against your own name, Ichigo?"

In a flash it launched itself at him. Grimmjow dropped into a fighting stance, face alight with bloodlust. The Vizard cursed. Goddamn homicidal idiots! I knew this was going to happen! Before they could come to blows, he leapt between them, drawing his soul cutter to point at the Espada, while the other hand clenched around the gleaming wire.

"I'd like nothing better than to watch you kill each other," he snarled. "But Grimmjow, you know this isn't really Kurosaki Ichigo, which means you can't hurt him. And as for you," he made a fist, "I don't even need an explanation. Just do as you're told."

To his relief, neither of them chose to call his bluff. The two savages just glared at one another. Hollows, whatever their stripe, could generally be depended on to…

A stab of pain lanced through his hand, and the Vizard dropped his zanpakutō with a cry. The Hollow leapt straight at him, hands extended to kill, only for Grimmjow of all people to jump in and catch it by the wrist. Frantically the masked fighter jumped back and yanked on the cord, causing the white-skinned teen to tear free with a hiss and spring clear. The three of them regarded one another in a hate-filled standoff. His own Hollow power was already healing the wound in his palm. What the hell just happened?! Trembling, he looked over to where his weapon lay near the Sexta's feet, judging the odds of retrieving it without getting killed.

Only then did he notice how Grimmjow's hair had lost all color, and the gleam of moonlight off another bared blade. This one, however, seemed to be floating in midair right next to the panther Hollow. Blood dripped down its length. There was an arm with a hand around the hilt, though, seeming to just appear out of nowhere.

"Keep your grubby mitts off my fracción, Ichigo," Jaguerjaques sneered.

At last it hit him. Shit! I forgot about his damn pack!

The floating short sword flipped to remove any remaining blood followed by the sound of a blade sliding into its sheathe. Then the arrancar Enfain Tezima stepped into view like a magician appearing from behind a curtain. The eye not covered by her mask fragment focused on the Vizard while her master continued to face down Ichigo's Hollow. A desire to butcher her on the spot burned within him. Humiliated by a mere underling! So that's why I didn't feel him coming, her and her damn Chiaroscuro, that sneaky little…!

As if sensing his thoughts, Tezima frowned. "Be glad I didn't slit your throat instead."

If that cocky bitch isn't dead by the end of this night, then you don't have any balls at all, Your Majesty.

For once we can agree on something. Were it not for Grimmjow, she'd never have survived this long.

The Vizard collected himself. "That's enough. We're wasting time. I'll show you the way to our guide."

"We already found him," Tezima announced while he still fantasized about murdering her. She turned to her leader. "The others are waiting. Are we done here?"

"Yeah, sure." With a careless shrug the king of beasts reached down to pick up the Vizard's zanpakutō. He shuddered upon seeing that part of his soul in an enemy's grip, but Grimmjow merely lobbed it lazily towards him, which he caught and returned to its place by his side. The Espada then indicated for his follower to proceed. "Lead the way. You assholes can come too, if you're interested."

Panther and chameleon then strode off together into the trees. The Vizard made a curt gesture to the Hollow that they should do the same. Its lip twisted in clear contempt, but it soon relented. They hurried to not lose sight of their temporary allies. All the way through the woods he kept a close eye on their surroundings. Protected by sombras, both the Hollow and Grimmjow's party would not register on shinigami senses, but he had no such protection. Even suppressed, his high spiritual power could be located by an astute tracker. And the Gotei 7 was not lacking in that department. Were it not necessary to be here he would never have risked exposing himself like this. But Ichigo's Hollow could only manifest in whatever dimension that he himself currently occupied. Which meant he was along for the ride.

Ever heard of a sacrificial lamb? That's you, King. Should anyone find us, those two'll split and leave you hanging. And then the shinigami will split you, and leave you hanging, from a tree…

His inner Hollow's persistent taunts hounded him through the darkened woods. At last they came upon a large rock formation formed from several slabs jutting out between the twisted roots of the surrounding trees. He tensed upon noticing more of Grimmjow's party at rest atop the boulders. There was the duo of Loly and Menoly along with two male Hollows, one grossly fat with a bone collar and hair standing straight up, the other attired in flowing white ceremonial robes whose mask fragment encircled his bald head and included hoops in his ears. They watched the new arrivals in silence.

At the base of the natural monument stood a figure distinctly out of place among this eclectic band of misfits. Their accomplice was an elderly man dressed in costly apparel. His back was bent with age, hands clasped behind him and eyes hooded by shaggy brows. Despite being nothing but an ordinary soul, he did not cringe in the face of all these assembled horrors.

Upon noticing his approach, the seneschal performed a short bow which he returned. Their aged contact reached into a dangling sleeve to produce a box which he proceeded to flip open. Nestled within were nine rings each bearing alternating segments of black and white which he held out for their inspection.

"These tokens shall serve to keep you safe from the security protocols in each location," he intoned. The Hollows gathered round to take a ring each. "Be warned; should you lose them, your presence will be regarded as aberrant, and you shall be dealt with most harshly as a result." The tone of his voice did not indicate he cared much either way if they lost their lives. He was simply stating the facts as they stood. Had he resigned himself to dying this night? No surprise.

Although he would not be making the trip himself, the Vizard accepted a ring and dropped it into a pocket of his cloak. He saw Grimmjow inspect the bi-colored band. Rather than slip it onto his finger, the Hollow general reached up and took ahold of one ear. He gave a sharp tug, followed by some fiddling and cursing. When his hands came away, the ring was firmly attached inside his bleeding earlobe, which had already healed over the wound.

Not to be outdone, Ichigo's Hollow tore open his own nasal septum to insert the band. The rest of them tended to favor more prosaic application of jewelry, though the fat one simply swallowed his. Once they were all similarly accoutered their guide turned to the monolith. He touched an unmarked pane of rock, and with a soft mechanical whine, an opening swung wide in the stone.

"Your way lies beyond," he informed the Hollow. With a flick of his wrist, a hell butterfly took flight to bob into the forest, glowing faintly. "The rest of you, follow this to the second location. Time is of the essence, and I am too old to travel quickly."

Grimmjow spat in contempt, but the old man did not look in his direction. With a wave of his arm, the blue-eyed beast called his host around him, and together they sprang off to follow the path laid out by the hell butterfly. Briefly the Vizard wondered if they might be heading into a trap. Could Aizen have seen this as an opportunity to dispose of Grimmjow for good and all? If so, who's to say he didn't have the same idea concerning me?

Troubled, he turned to the Hollow. "Remember, no needless combat. Just get in and do what you have to. I'll remain here to bring you out if need be."

"Like you'd make all the difference in a fight," the Hollow sneered. It indicated toward the bent old seneschal. "Even this one's got more spine than you. At least he's not afraid."

"Will you just go?!" he spat, feeling drained from being constantly on edge.

The bleached entity gave a disdainful snort before proceeding into the cave mouth. Only then did he permit himself to relax a fraction. The Vizard dropped down in the dirt and tucked his feet beneath him, soul cutter draped securely against his shoulder. He cast a look over at the old man, who stared right back. "You'll stay here, jii-san," he informed him. "So that I know you don't have any change of heart."

To this the elder merely turned his head to gaze at the moon while remaining still. Despite having his orders obeyed, the masked spirit couldn't help but feel nettled. Is there no one left I can truly depend on?

I'm here, King. Don't ever discount me.

He cursed it half-heartedly, and settled in to wait.

---

The six Hollows arrayed themselves before the weatherworn remains of a ceremonial tori gate where the hell butterfly had finally alighted. If ever there had been a temple here, it had long since been lost to time. Now only this curious bit of civilization stood unremarked and forgotten in the forests of the old Rukongai.

At a sign from Grimmjow, the tall arrancar dressed in the manner of a priest stepped forward. From inside his robe he withdrew a long shakujō staff topped by a circle with six rings. This the Hollow passed back and forth before him, muttering beneath his breath. A sound similar to wind chimes rose all around them, only to quickly die. When it did, a small temple now stood just beyond the gate.

They approached. Two of his men took up position to either side of the door in readiness for an ambush. Scorning such tactics, Grimmjow strode in and yanked the screen open. Revealed within was a long dimly lit hallway that stretched far into the distance in defiance of the tiny dwelling in which it was apparently housed.

Satisfied, the head of the war party turned back about. "Alright. You two wait here until Tezima shows up, got it?" The male arrancar each nodded. He then cast an eye over the three females. "Let's go."

"Go?" Menoly's face twisted in confusion as he slipped past with Enfain moving to join him without hesitation. She looked to Loly, who appeared equally perplexed. "Go where?"

"Back the way we came." He then stopped in his tracks. Grimmjow's head swiveled slightly to flash a grin over one shoulder that made both Hollows cringe, recognizing it as the same one he had worn prior to killing them. "You wanna debate me?"

They did not, as was readily apparent when they moved to join him. A rush of sonido later, and the two guards stood alone, waiting patiently to fulfill their alpha's orders.

---

Ichigo's Hollow sniffed as it traversed the narrow corridor. The ring in its nose was driving it crazy, but it would be damned if it was about to do anything that might indicate such a move had been a mistake. Fucking Grimmjow. Fucking Vizard prick. Should just go back there and murder them both. Fuck Aizen and his fetch quests. I oughtta just chuck it all in and start tearing this place to shreds while I can.

Being caught up in rebellious musings, it barely noticed when the lane came to an end at a flat wall. Upon approaching, the ring in its nose warmed slightly. At the same time an outline of a door appeared briefly before sliding off to one side. The Hollow stomped through and cast a look around, frowning as the portal closed behind it without leaving a trace. The room it now occupied appeared to be some kind of waiting area, with a few couches and benches against the walls.

Spotting another door, the dark spirit traipsed over and stuck its head through, to find another hallway leading off to both sides. Movement caught its eye, the source being a tiny little creature bustling about the floor with a broom. The doll-sized menial looked up with wide golden eyes in a freaky black and white face and said, "Simpleton," before returning to its duties.

Just a damn toy. Not even worth the time it would take to kill.

"Simpleton simpleton. Simpleton."

Ichigo's Hollow held up one arm to inspect a twisted copper bracelet on its wrist. Housed in between two loops of metal was a green orb with a yellow slit, like a cats-eye marble. As it moved the bracelet experimentally back and forth, the narrow pupil grew wider, and shrank.

"Simpleton."

It observed this, then turned down the left-hand lane. Looks like I'm heading that way.

"Simpl…"

The Hollow's foot came thundering down to smash the toy, grinding it into the polished floor with unrestrained vehemence. "Spic and span, bitch," it growled furiously. Once this minor but necessary task was complete, it strode swiftly off, eager to complete its unwelcome assignment. Privately, though, it hoped to meet someone along the way. Didn't have to be somebody the King really cared about. Anyone would do. Although if I had a choice…

"Here, Hat-and-Clogs," it sang, and chuckled.

---

'What the hell? Why did I agree to this? Can I get out of it?' These thoughts had been buzzing through Tatsuki's head for the last twenty minutes. During this time she was hustled off to a chamber where Rao informed her that she would need a change of clothes in order to participate.

"Here's an apprentice's smock. Please put it on, for our sake. A sign of good faith." The dark-haired beauty offered a playful smile before sauntering out of the room.

Tatsuki began to don the unfamiliar getup, thinking all the while. That ghost Reichi saw who started all this, the Man in White… could it have been one of the vasto lorde? There were supposedly four of them: Ulquiorra, that giant carnivore woman Ryo first saw, the dead skeleton she impersonated when we met in Hueco Mundo, and a fourth guy that we never got a good description for (thanks a bunch, Ichigo, you clueless mope). Supposedly that last was the strongest of them all, just like Ulquiorra said. Could he and Oushima really have met?

Tatsuki was still puzzling over the implications as she sat on her knees in the temple proper. This proved to be a sprawling room in the back of the complex dominated by a huge bronze statue of a Buddha. Incense burned in ornate metal braziers, and several smaller demigod statues lined the wall around their deity. Tatsuki took in the rich trappings of spirituality with vague apprehension. Seriously, who's floating all this? Shrines in Kyoto weren't half as swanky.

Oushima Reichi knelt beside her in the center of the room before a burning incense brazier, hands clasped in prayer over a string of beads. He wasn't droning sutras or swaying back and forth like she had expected. The rattle of the priestess' prayer wand was the most obvious noise. Mari-Rin stood before the giant statue intoning a chant and engaging in ritualistic gestures. The buxom Rao had taken up position between them. She cast an amused glance over her shoulder at the two teens before turning back to the ceremonial display.

An aroma of burning incense hung heavy in the air. It was making Arisawa feel a bit light-headed. Smoke rose from the metal dish before them. If she looked closely, there almost seemed to be shapes within, teasing her with their semi-formed allusions to real life. A quick head shake served to dispel any such hallucinations. But the chanting was starting to make her skin crawl. She felt dizzy and queasy. Am I sick? Should I leave?

There came a faint flash of something blue. Tatsuki looked up in time to see Madame Rao's yellow hood turn back around. She frowned uneasily.

I need to get out of here. Something's not right. I feel cold.

"Can I ask you a favor?" a small voice spoke beside her.

She turned to regard Oushima. The reformed thug still had not opened his eyes, but he clearly was addressing her. "Yeah?"

"When you get back home… tell my old friends I'm doing well. And tell Kurosaki… that I forgive him."

'For what? Bruising his knuckles on your face?' She chose to ignore this wholly understandable impulse, and instead said, "All right. I promise, Oushima-kun."

He ducked his head a little. "Thank you," again in that soft tone.

Tatsuki turned to face forward, uncomfortable again. The chanting had grown louder, it seemed. How long would this last? She felt a throbbing in her chest as though it was threatening to cave in. Sweat dripped down her face, and she reached up to wipe her cheeks. Everything looked hazy. As if she was in a dream. Fog lay everywhere. The Buddha glowed with a soft gold light. Madame Rao's shape was outlined against it, a sinister shadow.

Tatsuki felt weirdly calm now. Almost empty. Half-heard voices whispered in her ear, demanding something the dazed teen could not discern. The room swam and warped before her eyes. Am I going to pass out? Seemingly far away, the statue of Buddha took on a leering sinister grin as it chuckled deeply at her expense. Before it Mari-Rin had turned into a bunch of vegetables stacked atop one another inside those outdated robes. There was a big round pumpkin for her body, and her feet were little eggplants sticking out of the sandals, while in place of a head there was now the top of a daikon radish with a face carved on it. Madame Rao turned to look at them once again, only now she wore a frightening white kitsune mask. The fox's mouth boasted sharp red teeth, and in the hollows of its sockets there glowed two fabulous blue eyes.

When she looked beside her, Oushima remained the same as she remembered, only he had become transparent. Ghostly. And within him there lurked something out of place; an orange glowing star that didn't belong there. She licked her lips uneasily. What am I seeing? It's eating away at him, whatever it is. Shouldn't we take it out?

So resolved, the girl reached forth a hand. Reichi did not respond. Her fingers drifted up to his arm, and then passed right through as though he were made of mist. Or maybe I am. She went in deeper, seeking out that weird light which seemed so unnatural. Memories came unbidden; people she recognized as her parents but actually held no relation to her, boys who called her 'boss', a guy with orange hair whom she despised and wanted to prove wasn't better than her. Oushima Reichi. And yet I'm not, though I am. I'm no part of this. I shouldn't be here. But I'm not the only one. Before I leave, I have… to…

Her grip nearly closed on the alien force. It jerked away as if sensing her presence. Tatsuki made another grab for it, and this time she caught hold. The strange energy struggled and convulsed wildly. Now she could see it was a web threading all through him. The spider that wove it was what she held in her hand. Far away she heard Reichi groan in pain as it fought to free itself. Stop hurting him!

A bell was sounding somewhere. It drew her in the manner of a beacon at night. She felt herself rushing backward as though caught in the grip of a strong current, losing out and returning to a more regular state. Instinctively her grip tightened. Don't let go! Don't let go!

Tatsuki awoke on her back. She gazed up at the ceiling, then down at her clenched fist. There was something pulsing within it. Blearily, acting on instinct, she brought it up to press against her breast. Whatever was there sank inside at once, causing her to choke back a scream. The sensation reminded her of how it felt to feed Ulquiorra; completely vile.

"You doin' alright there, youngun?"

Taking stock of the situation let her realize Mari-Rin and Madame Rao had come up to them. When she looked over it was to find Reichi lying prostrate alongside her with his head in Rao's lap. He seemed unconscious, though breathing peacefully. The red prayer beads he had been holding were scattered all about the floor. The beautiful actress stroked his brow in a soothing manner, face hidden in the shadows of her hood.

"What happened?" Arisawa asked.

"Bad mojo," the squat temple guardian replied.

"No, it was just the incense." Rao passed a hand before her face with a sigh. "My fault. I lit too much, and it made you both faint. You'll have to forgive me."

Tatsuki gazed at her, then the elderly shaman. They were both back to normal. Could I have really imagined all that? When she opened her hand, it was to find nothing more remarkable than one of the prayer beads inside. For some reason this gave her no comfort.

She tried to sit up. Doing so let Tatsuki realize how heavy her body felt. The effort involved made her feel as if she was made of lead. Staggering upright, she swayed for a few moments.

"I feel light."

It was Oushima who spoke. Upon looking down Tatsuki found his eyes had opened. He looked around and fastened on her. "S'gone," the boy murmured. "I felt it leave. My heart… is light as air." And here he grinned. "Feels good."

"Come on, let's get you to bed, Jimmy-kun. You need some rest." With that Madame Rao levered him to a sitting position with one arm draped around her shoulder. She rose then, bringing Reichi with her in a surprising show of strength. The two of them trooped towards the doorway leading out of the inner sanctum.

Tatsuki watched their departure. She wasn't certain what just took place. But when she noticed the priestess staring at her, the first words out of her mouth were, "I'm sorry."

"Don't know what yer intentions in coming here were, girlie," Mari-Rin remarked. "The lines o' Fate be muddied around ye. Can't see 'em clearly. But whatever it might be, the time's come fer ye to be off, I think. Ye got what ye came fer. As sure as me name's Munroe."

Any other time, the exhausted black belt would have burst out laughing to hear that. Instead all she could manage was a tired nod. As Tatsuki shambled over to the door, her steps slowed, and she paused with one hand on the lintel. "Can you tell Oushima I said goodbye?"

"As ye wish."

At this she drew a deep breath and stepped forward into the evening air. The sun had just gone below the horizon. Feeling exhausted, but determined to leave before anything else could happen, she set off towards the entrance to the temple.

It took her ten minutes to make the journey to the bottom of the stairs. On the way down Tatsuki passed a park employee come to announce that the place was closing for the evening. Once she reentered the village, she joined a thinning press of customers being guided by actors to the parking lot. A shuttle bus had brought her here, and she was now eager to get onboard and put this place behind her. Tatsuki passed the stalls closing up for the night, the artisans who manned them drawing shutters and packing up goods before heading off to wherever they lived. With every step air grew chillier. She shivered as though wracked by illness. What have I done to myself? Dear God, I feel awful.

"Yo, pretty young miss!"

This shout seemed directed at her, and she turned in time to see something come flying toward her face. Instinct took hold, and she snatched it in mid-air. At the same time a faint tinkling chime sounded. The girl looked down to find she was holding what appeared to be a small silver sleigh bell, the type seen in Christmas cards and advertisements.

"Careful on yer way home, now!"

The accented dialect caught her attention. When Tatsuki looked up she saw a tall man standing at one of the booths; a craftsman, judging by his outfit. He wore blue-tinted glasses and was smiling in a way that somehow set her teeth on edge. Before any attempt to ask for an explanation could be made, this unnerving figure offered a small salute and ducked back into his shop, dropping the reed screen behind him.

Puzzled, she once again studied this unexpected gift. It was artfully made, with tiny lines etched into the gleaming metal surface. A loop of soft red satin ribbon was strung through a hoop, allowing the ornament to be tied on to anything like a cellphone or keychain. She gave it an experimental shake, and a very pleasing chime resulted. Confusion over the situation didn't last very long. Just a guy hitting on me. Probably hoping I'll try to find out more, or even buy something at a later date. Well, no offence, but I'm never coming back here again.

She pocketed her new charm and jogged down the street. For some reason that malaise from before had subsided in the last few minutes. Maybe it was only temporary, or all in my head? Tatsuki found herself bringing the bell up to her ear for another jingle. It made her heart feel lighter, just like Reichi had said. Maybe things will turn out all right?

Back at his shop the silversmith Gato Izanagi peaked through the curtains to watch her go. Satisfied, he turned back to his accomplice. "All clear."

In a rustle of smooth silk Madame Rao slipped out of the shop entrance to stand beside him. "You don't suppose she recognized you?"

"No more than she did you. Although that getup is just begging for people to ask questions."

"What?" Rao pouted. "I liked that game! It's all about spirits, history and legends. And besides, if I'm just dressing up to act a part, what does it matter where I get my inspiration?"

"You might be sued for copyright infringement long before Soul Society ever learns of us," he pointed out.

"So I'll just tell them it's cosplay." Here the disguised nun took his arm and cradled it to her breast, rubbing the fingerless hand between her cleavage. She smiled at the way he caught his breath before getting back to business. "I checked on our boy, by the way. The stain on his soul is gone. She took it out of him somehow and added it to her own."

"Well, looks like it was worth the trouble of keeping the brat around after all," Gato mused as she went about her play. "Lucky enough he fell into our lap so that we learned about those dust bunnies in the first place. Now he's gone and drawn in a great clue about where to look next. Someone up there likes us, eh?"

"I don't think heaven could really be considered on our side, big boy."

He drew her to him with a chuckle, tilting that beautiful chin up and brushing the hair away from her eye. "My darling, if it's us against the whole world, I'd bet on you every time."

She grinned wickedly, then wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Gin exulted, and lifting Rangiku off the ground, he carried his love into the shop, delighting in her laughter every step of the way.

---

His head came up, and the Vizard scanned his surroundings cautiously. What was that? Did I hear something?

No sign of peril greeted him. The old man remained in the same spot without bothering to acknowledge him. Beneath the darkened canopy everything appeared menacing and unwelcome.

Kill the geezer. He's a loose end. Not like he has many years left anyway, right?

I'd sooner kill you. Believe it.

Not even if you could, King. You'll never be free of me. Believe that!

Resolutely the Vizard went back to his watch. All the same, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had overlooked something.

In the dim moonlight, preoccupied by his own concerns, he failed to notice how even the faint bits of color in the landscape had turned completely gray for a few seconds there.

---

When they were safely past and down the tunnel, the other Hollows removed their hands from Enfain Tezima, becoming visible once more as they did. At this Grimmjow turned to address the camouflaged spy. "Head back there and make sure you get everything we came for. No side trips, understand? I'll meet you in Hueco Mundo when this is over."

She nodded before setting off towards the mouth of the cave. Jaguerjaques turned and went in the opposite direction. After sharing looks of trepidation, Loly and Menoly made to follow him. There was no point questioning the Sexta at this stage. They knew what was expected of them. Although it was obvious Grimmjow did not consider their survival to be a significant calculation in his plan. Feeling fear creep up on them with every step, the two subordinates continued towards an uncertain fate.

They came out in a minimalist room of no particular interest. Grimmjow led them over to another door that opened onto an unremarkable hallway. Here their eyes were immediately drawn to something out of the ordinary. The Hollow general stalked over and knelt beside a small smashed form. He bent down to give a cautious sniff, then rose upright, inhaling deeply. Upon affirming the scent, an eager smile broke over his face.

"This way," he gestured, and led them in a run to pursue their prey.

---

The Hollow slid to a stop. It turned about, scanning the empty hallway behind. Am I imagining things?

A slow grin worked up its face as the truth came clear. Well, I'll be damned. Christmas came early!

It glanced around for a moment, ultimately deciding against holding the fight here. There's gotta be somewhere more appropriate! So resolved, it then raced down the passageway at top speed, casing the interconnecting hallways in search of good prospects. At last the hunt ended in a tremendous gallery. Everything here looked to be made of polished green jasper mottled with dark patches. Great steps fit for a giant's tread stretched far out of sight, flanked by massive pillars that ran the length of the room, with a ceiling so high it was lost in shadows.

The Hollow exulted. Perfect! It then sprang up several levels and settled in eagerly to wait, eyes never leaving the entrance. Shouldn't be long now. They know I'm here.

Less than a minute later three dull booms sounded, and with that it was no longer alone. Ichigo's Hollow sprang to its feet. "Hey there, Grimmjow, old buddy! You lookin' for me?"

The crazy blue-haired bastard actually smiled upon catching sight of it. "You know it, Kurosaki!"

Wrath flowed through its veins, but the Hollow kept itself tamped down. Easy enough now that it was the one choosing to do so. Might as well confirm a few things first. "So what's up? I thought you had your own scavenger hunt to get to. You lost, or just lookin' to have an orgy?" It bared black teeth at the two Hollow wenches. Terror spilled off of them, so invigorating. The beast examined the luckless pair. That one, it decided, with the black hair, purple eye and flat chest; she goes first. Her bad luck for reminding me of…

"You gonna make me repeat myself, punk?" Grimmjow slipped Pantera free of its scabbard. He tapped the tip of his soul cutter against the polished floor. "This 'mission' is a load of crap. Screw Aizen. I came for you."

"Cute. And what makes you think I give a shit?"

The Espada's grin disappeared. Now fury was the only emotion visible on his face. "Last we fought, I told you how things are supposed to go. Only one person walks away from a battle alive. That's how it's gotta be. And something tells me this time you're not gonna wuss out on me. Am I right, Ichigo?"

The Hollow rose slowly from its crouch. "I told you not to call me that."

Blue eyes narrowed, a lion sighting its kill. "My mistake… Hichigo."

And that settled it. In a flash the Hollow tore off its sombra shroud, allowing its power to blaze forth for all to feel. Whether shinigami or Hollow, it mattered not. No more hiding, no more following orders! Come and get me, all of you! It's time to KILL!

"SCRATCH OUT, PANTERA!"

In moments the pack leader had transformed into an apex predator. White armor encased Grimmjow from neck to ankle. His hands were black talons, feet become the pads of a giant cat with claws that raked scratches across the floor. The release of resurrección burned away his own sombra, allowing a tremendous soul signature to spill out in every direction. He opened his mouth and roared so loud it caused cracks to appear in floor and columns. Behind him Loly and Menoly had taken off running. Neither their boss nor the Hollow paid them any attention. The two avowed nemeses launched themselves at one another to meet with a detonation that rocked the entire complex as alarms tore the air.

---

Something's wrong.

Urahara paused in typing out his report. Is it dangerous, Benihime?

Oh, yes.

He knew better than to argue with his zanpakutō's instincts. She did not take kindly to getting blindsided, as he well understood. In moments the chief scientist called up a display of the Bureau's security system. He focused first on the chamber where Renji remained under observation. Nothing to indicate a sudden deterioration, whether visually or that his instruments could detect. He then made a quick check on the most dangerous experiments currently active and not under quarantine. They all reported back well within safety parameters. Acting on a hunch, Kisuke then turned to observe the room housing Mayuri Kurotsuchi. Again, nothing.

Not to be dissuaded, he opened up a communication channel. "Nemu-chan, please report in and confirm your…"

Before he could finish, a force like a cataract slammed down. Urahara nearly pitched head-first into his desk, catching hold of the wood to steady himself. Realization hit all at once. Hollows!

At the same time a klaxon split the air. The lights in the room went blood red. A holographic screen sprang up before him to override all the others. 'EMERGENCY!' it flashed. 'SECURITY SYSTEM ACTIVATED! ALL PERSONNEL PROCEED TO DESIGNATED AREAS!'

He came upright, already accessing the controls. Urahara absorbed the readouts before him. The security system had been designed to respond only in a manner deemed appropriate for whatever breach had occurred, so as not to inconvenience ongoing experiments. A low-level breakout or contamination would only call for a room to be sealed off. Something more lethal might warrant an entire ward being shut down, and if that wasn't enough, terminated altogether along with anyone or anything trapped inside.

What he was seeing before him was much worse. The R&D Bureau had just entered maximum threat containment. Nothing would be permitted to enter or leave the facility; that included people, communications, even hell butterflies. After all, some threats were so deadly as to not only warrant overkill, but demand it. The maximum response measures were a holdover to Mayuri's tenure, designed as a reaction to what even he would judge to be too grotesque to risk releasing upon Soul Society. Which meant something approaching the level of a vasto lorde was loose in the building. And with that being the case…

'ALERT: CATEGORY NIL CONTAINMENT PROCEDURES ARE NOW IN PLACE! COMPLETE ANNIHILATION OF FACILITY IN PROGRESS! COUNTDOWN COMMENCE: 30 MINUTES REMAINING! FACILITY DIRECTOR INPUT REQUIRED TO CONFIRM TERMINATION OF THREAT!'

Right on time.

A weird smile now played about his lips. Kisuke was reasonably certain he could handle this. Assuming it wasn't a horrible mistake; just an active effort being made to kill him and everyone here (which wasn't beyond the pale, there having been several such attempts against the R&D Bureau in the past). He had calculated a high likelihood their enemies would try something big during the wedding. Any attempts made beforehand would only prevent us from being lulled into a false sense of safety later, but that didn't entirely preclude the possibility. Perhaps they simply couldn't wait? Or maybe Jigoku's appearance had ruffled more feathers than he realized. Would certainly explain why those two showed up around this time. Good to know. An off-kilter opponent was more easily disposed of.

After inputting his clearance codes to provide him access, he called up a full analysis of the threat. Seconds passed. Kisuke whistled a bit to keep himself occupied, taking this time to confirm Benihime's presence in a stand by the door. Seeing her under the red lights left him uneasy. Moreover, that oppressive force hadn't relented in the slightest. There was something disturbingly familiar to it as well. Were it not so improbable, I could almost believe…

The results came up at last. Okay, let's see what we're dealing with.

When he saw what it was, Urahara's smile changed. For there, in a devastated chamber on the lower floors, Ichigo Kurosaki's Hollow was fighting Grimmjow Jaguerjaques.

"Well, well," he breathed.

In moments he had contacted Akon and Nemu with their instructions. The exchange was brief, and both senior staff members set about implementing his designs. They knew what to do in this situation. He had always recognized the greatest threats that existed to him and his research. Although it did beg the question: how did the Hollows get in here? And right on the heels of that, how was Ichigo's Hollow able to manifest in Soul Society to begin with? The binding spell hadn't been lifted since after the Autumn War, at the substitute shinigami's own insistence. To say nothing of the fact that the boy himself was currently in the mortal realm at this time undergoing training with Nanao Ise. Which only confirmed what he had suspected for a while. For that matter, why haven't the automatic defenses tried to erase both Hollows?

Too many unresolved theories, all of which would have to wait. Less than thirty minutes remained until this building was reduced to nothing. Nemu and Akon would strive to implement their own strategies. Even should he die in the attempt, authority to avert the self-destruct sequence would be automatically transferred to one of them. As for me… just have to concentrate on the job at hand.

His eyes drifted over to the sword cane in its stand.

Knowing what I am dealing with, there is only one sane solution.

He stalked over and drew the innocuous item from its rest. Examining the length of wood gravely, Urahara grasped its handle and slowly slid Benihime from her scabbard.

Shall we, Your Highness?

You haven't seen fit to try this in ages.

I'll do my best. Judge me fairly.

Don't we always?

The captain examined his reflection. Looking pretty confident. I ought to be nervous. Yet this feels right. I am responsible for that thing, after all. Perhaps the enemy guessed this for themselves? That would certainly explain why they sent it after me. But what other option is there? Assuming I only get the Hollow, odds of survival are 50-50. Just wish I was a little luckier when it comes to gambling.

Giving a mental command to the room, a vaguely organic tube emerged from the ceiling and fell to cover him completely. When it retreated, Kisuke Urahara was gone.

---

Nemu Kurotsuchi digested the orders from her superior in silence. At last she settled on an appropriate course of action. A number of programs were called up onscreen, several of which the lieutenant chose to initiate. This would minimize the loss of data should a full facility implosion occur.

Hey. Let's play a game.

Not now, Aka-chan. I must work.

But this one's easy! It's called, 'Where Did My Cranky Friend Go'?

At this an absence registered. When Nemu glanced over, it was to find Soifon no longer in evidence where she had been just a second past.

Give up? Then let's play a real game! And it looks like there are two other players on the way towards your Dad. Wanna have some fun with them?

She debated a second longer.

Yes.

Sweet!

A moment later the room was completely empty.

---

His eyebrows twitched, and Renji sprang from the bed with a start. In doing so he tottered and nearly fell from a resulting wash of spiritual power that threatened to swamp him. It was so unnervingly huge he could barely comprehend it. Red lights started flashing, accompanied by a wailing klaxon that threatened to deafen him.

But ears don't lie, especially ones as good as his. And somehow, without rightly understanding why… he recognized that roar.

Grimmjow!

"Howl, Zabimaru!"

His released soul cutter settled in one hand with a satisfying weight. But even this wouldn't be enough. "Bankai: Hihio Zabimaru!"

The room they were in was small, and it felt even more so with the great bulk of his serpentine bankai crowding inside it. But Renji had no time to waste on smashed furniture. He detached the segmented war beast so that only its handle remained in his hand. The young captain then slipped in-between the space of two enormous vertebrae. Moments later his bone bankai had sealed itself up with him inside. Uttering a shriek, the great anaconda drove its skull down into the floor, bursting through with ease to tunnel towards the source of that ungodly confrontation.

There was no time or reason to ask for an explanation. He knew only that a terrible fight awaited him. In spite of this, Renji couldn't help but feel excited. A chance to make up for getting skunked during the Autumn War. Maybe even something to impress Rukia. And Nel. Hell, yeah. Don't know why it's happening, and I don't care! No way I'm missing out this time!

---

Ichigo's Hollow cast a disdainful look down at its bare chest. Long tracks carved deep bloody gashes all along its torso, but in mere moments they had already healed. It cocked a look up where a panting Grimmjow stood on a higher level of the staircase, his Desgarron fully engaged.

"I don't know what I was expecting. Serves me right for thinking you might actually present a challenge."

"Yeah?" the Sexta spat through bloodied lips. One eye was badly swollen, but his grin never faltered. "I must be in a different fight. Cuz if it weren't for that cheap healing trick, I'd have killed you three times by now!"

"Now, boys, let's not get ahead of ourselves," a new voice intruded on the battle. "I need you both alive for what comes next!"

The two fiends spun to train their attention on a pillar by the wall, where Kisuke Urahara emerged to join them. He cast a critical eye around the devastation wrought in their short battle. "So… you, me, and Grimmjow makes three!" He looked down at his captain's robe, then over at the released panther, and the moon-pale teen. "And we're all wearing white. Sort of hard to tell under these lights, but I seem to recall there's a rule about this… ah, who has time for fashion these days." Gray eyes fastened on the half-nude Hollow to narrow a fraction. "Hello, young man. We meet again."

It turned a frighteningly pleased expression on him. "Hello to you too, doc!"

"Ah, yes." The shaggy-haired wizard marched towards them, his released sword hanging negligently in one hand. "Glad we get a chance to talk. I've been exceedingly curious about you since even before I heard you were popping up outside your owner." He drew closer, staring up at the pair of fighters. "Care to enlighten me on that score before we get down to business?"

The Hollow opened its mouth to retort, only for Kisuke to cut it off. "You know what, never mind. I honestly don't have time for this. As you might have noticed, we're operating on a deadline here." He indicated the surroundings with a sweep of his weapon, still lit a lurid red by the emergency lights. "The place is heading for a meltdown. Unless, that is, I manage to pacify you two rebels. So waddaya say?" And here he smiled winningly while strolling at a sedate pace towards them. "Shall we sit down and hash things out over tea like civilized gents?"

Neither of them seemed sure of how to respond. Grimmjow looked like he was taking this chance to catch his breath. And he needed it, too. Poor guy must be suicidal, picking a fight with this thing. At least without a plan. I, on the other hand, just need to get a bit… closer…

As if waiting for this, Jaguerjaques lifted an elbow and fired a volley of black darts at Kisuke. From Benihime there emerged a red mist that became a wall to block these missiles, only to have them explode upon contact. Through the smoke Ichigo's Hollow came smashing against the barrier with a demented scream, driving its fists against that transparent red frame with blow after punishing blow.

Odious upstart whelp!

Kisuke felt Benihime's anger even as her shield began to give. He quickly leapt to one side, disengaging the wall and sending a scarlet streak of energy screaming from his blade. Caught off balance, the Hollow staggered at the sudden lack of resistance and proved unable to avoid the incoming attack, which tore across its body in a gush of black blood.

The thing frothed insanely. Without even waiting to heal, it drove forward in pursuit of him. Urahara sent more bloody bolts at it, the whole time keeping an eye on Grimmjow, who had leapt to a safe distance. Looks like he's taking this chance to try and power up a Gran Rey Cero while we're occupied with each other. Which means he intends to hold his ground.

Perfect.

"Bakudo #73: Tozanshō!"

Instantly the outline of a blue pyramid formed around the Espada. In the blink of an eye it snapped into full focus, encasing him within its confines. Jaguerjaques glanced around briefly at the spectral prison, then continued charging his attack as though it didn't matter.

For his part Kisuke brought up another Blood Mist Shield to ward off the approaching Hollow. He took this opportunity to unobtrusively home in on Grimmjow's position. The Cero might break through, and it might not. What matters is that he hold still just long enough to bring all three of us together. Falling Mountain Crystal is the perfect restraining spell for this instance. It contains him, but offers protection as well. Anything else would leave the target too vulnerable. If he can't move, even for a few seconds, the Hollow might kill him. And that would lower my chances of survival. So oddly enough, I need to keep them both alive, at least until…

Something exploded through the ceiling. With a squeal like screeching tires, a tremendous serpent composed of bone came bursting on the scene. Ichigo's Hollow looked up from beating against the scarlet barrier just as that fanged skull slammed in to send it hurtling against a wall.

"Yo, Urahara-taichou!" Renji dropped down upon the field of battle with his sights set on Grimmjow. "Need some…?"

"Get the hell out of here now."

The coldness in Kisuke's voice seemed to surprise his young comrade. Abarai turned a questioning look upon him. "What d–HEY!"

A flash of red caused him to leap back, barely missing the razor edge of a scarlet beam. He landed a ways off to stare at the other captain in disbelief as the flat tip of Benihime continued to point at him.

"I said leave."

Kisuke kept his eyes trained on where Ichigo's Hollow was pulling itself out of the rubble with murder all over its face. A similar fury awoke in the captain's own heart. You little fool! Why did you have to get involved? I had this under control. Now it's all gone to hell.

You should know our shield will not be able to hold that monster back any longer. You need to put an end to this.

I got it.

There came a flash of blue light that turned the room purple, followed by an overwhelming roar as Grimmjow's Cero collided with his containment. For a heartbeat it held, only to shatter like glass, allowing all that power to go roaring towards its target, which turned out to be Ichigo's Hollow. The creature was enveloped in that turquoise crucible as the entire wall behind it seemed to evaporate.

Lit by the detonation, Kisuke turned to address his ally. "I can deal with this, but not while you're here. Get away while they're occupied with each other. If I don't make it, then you'll have your chance."

Still the buffoon only gaped at him. The Gran Ray Cero was dying out, and in spite of its staggering level of force, they could all register the Hollow's unmatched soul power continuing to crush them. Even something like that wasn't enough to kill it. No surprise; we're dealing with an entity that could potentially challenge a vasto lorde, even if, as I suspect, it's not at full power. Grimly the Ibis Captain weighed his options. Throughout the room Hihio Zabimaru shook its great length and hissed, waiting for a sign from its master. Right now I can get close enough to trap both Hollows. But Renji would be caught up in it as well. His bankai is just too big, she'll treat it as an extension of him, I know it. Maybe if I can manage to get Ichigo's Hollow, he'll have a chance against the Espada alone. By now Nemu and Akon should be ready too.

Choose, boy.

Grimmjow had caught sight of Renji and was shouting something at him. At the same time the tyrant Hollow began to emerge from the conflagration, body already on the way to recovery. The deadly scientist didn't dare take his eyes off it. Silently he urged Abarai to escape. Leave, dammit! Take Grimmjow with you if necessary, just get out of here!

Choose…

The panther demon sprang for his red-haired adversary, who cracked his tree-trunk whip in preparation. Fine, then.

"Oh, Kurosaki-kun!" he sang.

Ichigo's Hollow spotted him, and smiled through black slimy teeth. So I'm its target after all. Swiftly Urahara flash-stepped towards the far end of the room as the creature launched itself at him. Come on, follow me, just a little more and Renji will be out of range. I'll miss Grimmjow, but at least this way I can…

Movement caught his eye. Recognition was immediate as a chill stole over him. Oh no.

There atop a broken pillar crouched Soifon.

He saw her assess the situation lightning fast, judging every available enemy in the room. Swift as death she made her decision. One hand came up, Suzumebachi's shikai gleamed with lethal promise as she took aim… at Ichigo's Hollow. The assassin readied herself to strike down her unwitting target.

And in his mind, Benihime laughed.

It would seem the choice is made…

NO!

"BANKAI…!"

I am so sorry, Renji…

"… TSUMA MATAWA TORA!"

---

Time drew still.

Everything ceased. The fight, the incessant screaming of the alarm system, even falling rock. All was still and quiet. The combatants stood frozen in the positions they had previously assumed. Something beyond the mere laws of reality had stepped in to take control here.

From the floor around Urahara Kisuke there arose a soft crimson mist. Brighter and more lurid than the surroundings, it glowed with an inner light. This fog reached up to his waist as it began to spread out, flowing noiselessly from its epicenter as though in search of something. At last after a time it halted to roil and drift peacefully.

Something stepped from behind the unmoving Urahara. It looked like a solid red shadow, bearing the outline of a woman robed and bedecked in finery. Her bejeweled hair was very long and straight, sliding down to be absorbed into the surrounding cloud. This regal specter trailed a hand lightly against the captain's cheek. He gave no sign of registering her caress, simply stared straight ahead. Satisfied, she drifted past him to reach Ichigo's Hollow, who also stood hip-deep in the sluggish mists. Here too she patted its cheek in tender fashion before sliding off.

At last she reached the limit of the cloud and paused to examine it. Looking up, the crimson mistress saw Soifon hanging in midair, arm extended towards the Hollow and face grim with purpose. Her flight terminated several inches shy of the mist's edge. The shadow queen observed this thoughtfully. She extended a hand towards the Stealth Forces leader, only to come up short, as though an invisible wall stood between them. Her head shook sadly from side to side, and the ghost turned away with a sigh that caused the fog to ripple.

'How disappointing…'

Then with a resigned shrug she floated up well over the mist to touch a segment of Hihio Zabimaru that hung overhead within the perimeter of her domain.

'Well, then. Let us begin.'

---

The target blinked out of existence. Surprised, Soifon checked her attack and twisted in midair. She landed gracefully to dart a quick look around in search of Ichigo's Hollow. Could it really be so fast that I didn't see it move?

In doing so, the Viper Company captain realized that Urahara Kisuke too had vanished.

"The hell…?"

Soifon spun to find Grimmjow Jaguerjaques glancing about in confusion that mirrored her own. Moments before he had been battling Renji Abarai, who now was nowhere to be seen. He spotted her. For a time the two natural enemies only stared at one another, both clearly at a loss to explain this turn of events.

Then Grimmjow's chin rose, and he blinked in disbelief. "What the fuck is that?"

Soifon cast a quick glance upward. What she saw made her blood run cold.

Hanging in the air high above them loomed something huge. It resembled a box of sorts, only composed from numerous varieties of smaller rectangular pieces. They snaked and twisted all around one another, their irregular faces sticking out in every direction like a Rubik's Cube gone mad. Each piece was a deep crimson color with numerous black lines tracing over their surfaces. There was no opening of any kind to be seen. Despite the unconventional design, this patchwork collection still managed to radiate a sense of sinister order in its convoluted form. It reminded Soifon of a great red geometric brain somehow.

Without having to be told, she knew what this thing was. And the realization filled her with dread.

They were looking at Urahara Kisuke's bankai.

The block floated silently above them with a sort of dire majesty. It made no sound. It did not move. Yet both observers recognized that here was something undeniably menacing.

-ATTENTION: ANNIHILATION OF COMPLEX TO COMMENCE IN 20 MINUTES.-

This announcement broke them both out of their reverie. Jaguerjaques left off perusing that mysterious flying object. "Well," the lone predator drawled, arms dangling and head cocked to one side in a deceptively negligent pose. "Looks like it's you and me now, kid."

A kunai flashed through the air, and Grimmjow caught it with his teeth. He spat the sharp blade out and gave a laugh, crouching down on all fours with tail lashing eagerly from side to side.

Soifon deliberately eschewed all thought of what was going on inside that deathtrap. Urahara and Abarai were both captains of the Gotei 7. They knew the risks as well as she. Soul Society would honor their courage, like so many shinigami who had fought for the sake of order.

Whichever of them should die, I will not let it be in vain.

Respect.

As you say, Suzumebachi. And she dove for the kill.

---

Renji walked down a featureless lane.

What just happened?

He came upon another dead end. No good. Gotta head back and take the other way.

How did I get here?

Upon returning to the previous junction he took a right this time. The path looked the same as everywhere else.

And what is this place?

It dawned upon him that the mantle he usually wore in bankai was gone. Not to mention Zabimaru had reverted to its sealed state and was now no more than an ordinary katana in his hand. He drew to a halt and carefully sheathed his weapon. Doing so allowed him to have a look around once more.

From what I've seen, this must be a maze. Blank red walls rose to either side in this narrow passage. They looked to be no more than ten feet high, yet whenever he attempted to climb over them, the top of the wall always seemed just out of reach. There was no ceiling to be seen. Instead should he look up nothing greeted him but a deep black void. An attempt to use kidō to blast through produced nothing at all. Not so much as a spark emerged when he incanted the spell.

Apparently there was no choice but to try and find a way out.

So he walked. Sharp turns presented themselves around which appeared identical corridors to the ones he had previously trod. The occasional intersection presented itself. Some ended at blank expanses, forcing him to retrace his steps. He was growing frustrated. Could I be walking around in circles? It feels like I've been in here forever. Maybe I should just stop and rest for a while?

'There is no rest.'

About to sit down with his back against the wall, Abarai hesitated. He lifted his head.

Zabimaru? Is that you?

A response did not come, whether from within or without his soul. But having stopped moving, his ears finally registered a noise, faint but unmistakable. Footsteps. Drawing closer. And a heavy breathing, deep and harsh. It was coming from the other side of the wall behind him. Turning, Renji stared at that smooth surface. He could detect nothing like a soul signature to inform him what it may be.

Despite this, he felt himself beginning to sweat.

The sound of pursuit drew nearer. Harsh animal breaths, panting in and out. Renji stood very still. At last it seemed to draw abreast of his position. When it did, the footsteps stopped. There came a sound that his imagination easily led him to believe was someone turning to stare at the wall behind which he hid. All noise ceased.

He held his breath.

Something sniffed as though testing the air. There came a low gurgling snarl, followed by the scrabbling of claws over stone as the unseen hunter broke into a run, its breath emerging fast and eager now. Like it knew he was only a short distance away.

Fear more intense than he had ever known claimed Renji, and he turned to race down the path. Just like that, the seasoned shinigami war leader was a child once again, running for his life through the streets of Inuzuri while being chased by those who would kill him if they caught up. This primal terror of being hunted drove him to sprint through the maze with no thought besides getting away. Don't let them catch me. Please don't let them catch me!

He whipped around a corner, only to find himself faced with another dead end. Panting, Renji almost turned back to flee, when suddenly a tingling chime sounded. In the wall ahead there appeared the outline of two doorways next to one another. One was bright red while the other glowed white. They offered a chance to escape, yet Renji hesitated, uncertain which to pick. Did red indicate danger? Would white lead him towards the approaching demon or away from it? How am I supposed to choose?!

A shiver passed through him. On instinct he leaned back to look down the way he came. A deserted path stretched off into the distance.

Far, far away, at the end, something turned a corner.

When he saw it, Renji spun about and ran to one of the doors. He wasn't sure which he picked, white or red, but his flight took him straight through. There came a sense of vertigo, and for a split-second everything seemed to freeze. Then the terrified soul stumbled forward and went sprawling to the floor. Panting, he looked behind, and was greeted by another anonymous flat surface. There was no door to be seen. When he turned back another identical lane stretched away before him.

'You chose well.'

His head came up. In the gloom overhead Renji caught a glimpse of something receding away. It almost looked to be a huge mask shaped like a woman's face with empty holes for eyes. Against all reason he could have sworn it smiled at him, before vanishing into darkness.

After taking this chance to collect himself, the captain stood up. He peered around but found nothing to guide him. Soon enough his steps took him forward once more, heading deeper into the maze.

Have to keep moving. Otherwise I'll die.

He had never been so sure of anything in his life.

---

Two doors, white and red. Ichigo's Hollow stood with arms crossed and a frown on its lips. This place was driving it crazy. Everything looked the goddamn same. There were no enemies to kill. Instead it had to just walk around in search of an exit. Attempting to jump over the walls or smash through them proved fruitless. No matter how high the Hollow leapt it always just barely missed catching the lip and immediately landed right back on the ground where it started. Its blows left not even a scratch. There were twists and turns galore in this place. And now, finally, it had come across something new. Only this offered no consolation.

Screw it. Just pick one! Whatever happens, I can deal with it.

So resolved, the heartless killer settled on the white door. My favorite color. It strode ahead and stepped into the pane.

Ichigo's Hollow froze stiff. The world went black as a white mist rose to encircle it. At once there came a feeling like knives being plunged into its body. Awash in agony, the creature sought to scream, to no avail. Blood came pouring out of its wounds and was soaked up by the waiting cloud which turned the same color as its meal.

The Hollow sank to its knees with a gurgle as it was deposited in yet another empty corridor. Breathing heavily, it looked down at itself. There were no wounds to be seen. But every limb felt so heavy, like it had just completed a grueling marathon. After a time the shuddering beast managed to stand up. There was still strength to spare, but a feeling of unease now lurked within it. What the hell just happened?!

'Poor guess, my pet.'

This voice set its teeth on edge. Cursing, the Hollow swung its arms back and forth before setting off.

"Whoever you are, I'm gonna rip your heart out through your throat."

The faint sound of mocking laughter chased it down the way. There too was an even more disturbing premonition that something else was in this maze along with it. Just out of sight, lurking around every corner, like a wolf waiting to strike.

We'll see who's prey when I find my way out of this fucking labyrinth.

Both hunter and hunted, the Hollow proceeded on.

---

The Graff grabbed Rania by the arm and yanked her to him. He stared down at the girl, eyes alight with some inner fire, which she met with a defiant glare.

"You want my blood?" she snarled. "Take it, demon!"

She expected him to go for her throat. Instead Rania was shocked when Totholtz bent swiftly down and kissed her hard on the lips.

The experience was so unforeseen she forgot everything that had led up to it. Attired in the unwanted red dress, the Gypsy waif held stock still in the vampire's black-clad embrace. Her body felt hot, like there was a bonfire raging beneath the skin. Instinctively her eyes fluttered closed as that strong commanding mouth claimed all her senses. The touch of his lips had never felt like this before, when he… would…

In a flash Rania came back to herself. Revulsion hit hard, and she seized hold of his cloak in an effort to push him away. The Graff did not budge an inch. Fury awoke. All the times he had violated her body with his unnatural craving were as nothing compared to this. It made her so furious the world went red in her field of vision, and drawing a deep breath through her nose, she shoved with all the strength she could lay claim to.

Suddenly Totholtz snapped back. On his face was the closest thing to emotion she had ever seen on that normally impassive mask. He looked… surprised. At her strength, or maybe…?

The lord of vampires flung her away from him so that she pitched to the floor in a flurry of scarlet silk. Without a word he turned and went striding off, seeming to vanish into the deep shadows of the dance hall. Rania sat there panting for a time. Then shakily she rose up and tottered toward the exit on trembling bare feet.

Up in the gallery, Rajnee observed these proceedings with narrowed eyes. "The hell was that about?" he growled.

"Hmm?" beside him the devilish Lohengrin lounged in midair on his bone-tipped scythe. "Do ya know what he means, my pet?"

"Bad case of fleas, maybe." A seductive chuckle escaped the luscious lips of the succubus Semele. She shook out her wealth of golden hair, then drifted over on bat wings to hover at the werewolf captain's shoulder, who scowled blackly at her. "Oh, don't grumble, Rajnee," the demonic temptress declared lightly. "I do believe our dear Graff Totholtz has just taken an interest in that sweet little girl after all."

"Her?" he scoffed at this notion. "I've seen sticks with more shape to them. She's just a dirty Gypsy. He'll get tired of her eventually, and when he does, I'll be ready to take some payback." He fingered the burned flesh of his tattooed forehead where Rania's torch had scarred him.

Grin drifted over the edge of the balcony to observe the girl's flight. "I wouldn't be so sure," he mused. "There's somethin' about this one. I daresay she might prove ta be more important than any of us had first surmised." Beneath his concealing hood, the pallid ghoul leered. "After all, ain't no greater weapon in our arsenal than love…"

"Amen to that." Semele traced a sharp fingernail over her burgeoning cleavage. She then spread both wings wide. "Excuse me now, boys. I feel like having another chat with our darling guest. Hold down the fort, won't you?" With a laugh she drifted down to the ballroom floor and flew in pursuit of Rania.

Rajnee scratched at his matted red hair uncomfortably. "I don't like this. We can't let the Graff be distracted by a–"

A sharp gasp drew her attention away from the latest chapter. Somewhat perturbed at further interruption, Nanao Ise looked up from the cellphone to gauge her student's progress.

Upon seeing Ichigo doubled over, she leapt to her feet. "Kurosaki-kun? Are you feeling well?"

Ichigo Kurosaki came upright. "Yeah. Fine."

He then went back to his remedial assignment. The shinigami substitute stood on a swan-shaped boat in the middle of a beautiful lake nestled amid this picturesque Teutonic landscape. From there he attempted to coordinate the movement of a bevy of white swans swimming on the clear blue surface using only kidō magic. By the proper application of barriers, Ichigo sought to direct nearly two dozen unruly and intemperate beasts without hurting them. The challenge lay in choosing whether to coax them singly or in groups to achieve the desired result.

Does he look pale to you? Yummy, but pale?

Perhaps a little. And he keeps scratching his chest like it irritates him…

Nanao observed the boy's progress from her place on the shore. This was the second time in the last ten minutes he had given signs of being in pain, and she was starting to grow concerned. Yet the determined teen went on ahead with training like nothing happened. No surprise there. Stubbornness came as naturally to him as breathing. Short of knocking him senseless, there was nothing that could be depended on to dissuade Ichigo from something once he set his mind to it. Of course, she was not without her own degree of single-minded fortitude.

At the next cough, Nanao decided that was more than enough. "Disorobu."

"Hey, c'mon, I was almost there!" His complaints fell on deaf ears. Around them the images of snow-capped mountains and blue-green firs melted away to be replaced by the chaotic paint-smeared landscape that was its natural state. Moments before vanishing the swans all stood on their tiptoes and bowed to him, wings extending up in the air. This was a little touch she added to demonstrate appreciation for his efforts. Positive encouragement couldn't hurt when warranted.

The sorceress came striding over to her student. He cast a reproachful look in return, which she answered with cool neutrality. "We're done for the day," Nanao announced. "I want you to go back home and get a checkup from your father. This sudden health issue concerns me."

"Seriously, sensei? I think you're blowing it out of proportion." He followed along as they made their way over to where his mortal body lay in repose. Ichigo picked up Zangetsu where he had left it. There seemed to be some communication between them, causing him to frown. Without offering an explanation the red-haired youth slipped back into his living form. Now no longer attired in shinigami robes but jeans and a white shirt, he clambered to his feet, wincing slightly as he did.

"Something is wrong," she declared upon seeing this reaction. Slipping her cellphone into a purse, Nanao conjured up a diagnostic incantation in one palm. "Hold still, I want to have a look at you."

As she advanced he backed up, hands held out to ward her off. "No, really, I'm good, I just need… to…"

A puzzled look came over Ichigo's face, and he glanced down. Nanao's eyes widened in horror.

All over the pristine white shirt, blossoms of scarlet were spreading.

"Wh…"

As his mouth opened a torrent of blood came pouring out. Ichigo clapped both hands over it to stem the flow, only for his eyes to go rolling up 'til the whites showed. A moment later he collapsed.

"ICHIGO!"

Nanao raced forward to drop down beside him. He was shuddering and jerking, bubbles of blood bursting past his lips. With a surge of strength she rolled him onto his stomach to prevent him from choking. Now the glow of magic around her hands was blinding, and the enchantress shot this awesome healing energy into his body, at the same time whipping out her phone and hitting a speed dial. The moment she heard it connect, Nanao screamed into the receiver.

"ISSHIN! THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH ICHIGO! FIND ORIHIME, THEN GET DOWN HERE, I NEED YOU!"

She heard the boy's father say something that sounded like agreement, and then hang up. The next step was to dispatch a hell butterfly to Heron Squad in Soul Society and see about getting Captain Kotetsu here on the double. After this Nanao concentrated on the only thing that mattered, namely keeping Ichigo Kurosaki alive until help could arrive.

To be continued…