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.

14. Rebirth: Coming to Terms

The three of them sat together at a table in Kuchiki Manor. Ichigo, Byakuya, and Rukia, all sipping tea in polite fashion. While outwardly calm, Ichigo's eyes darted about the room as though afraid of an ambush. He felt certain something was wrong but couldn't quite put his finger on what.

Across from him, Rukia settled down her cup. Gazing at it, she suddenly took a deep breath.

"Nii-sama…"

Ichigo's eyes went wide with panic. Don't tell him!

"… I'm pregnant," she finished.

A strangled gurgle escaped Ichigo's throat. He sat motionless with the teacup halfway to his lips. Slowly his horrified eyes rotated over to where Byakuya sat. The grim-faced lord remained in his spot at the head of the table, head down and unmoving. There was no explosion of violence, no indication he had even heard that statement. Maybe nothing bad will happen?

Then the shinigami captain stood up and crossed over to kneel beside his sister. She gazed at him anxiously, uncertainty written all over her lovely face.

"Rukia," Byakuya stated with the same stone-cold expression, "I am very happy for you."

Her eyes lit up with joy. "Nii-sama…!"

"This has come as a surprise, I will admit," he continued. "But there is nothing in this universe that could ever diminish my unconditional support for you. I intend to make sure this labor proves as painless and ultimately uplifting as possible. Rest assured, there will be nothing you or your child shall ever want for. On this you have my word as a Kuchiki." Byakuya then took hold of Rukia's hands and stood up, bringing her with him. "Everything is going to be all right."

"Thank you, O-nii-sama!" she stated happily while staring up at him, worshipful eyes brimming with tears.

"Run along now, Rukia," her brother encouraged in warm but formal tones. "There is much planning to do 'ere the event takes place."

The door behind them opened, and Rukia skipped towards it. She paused at the frame to look back and wave goodbye with absolute love and exuberance pouring off her. Byakuya returned the gesture, after which she went bounding away so lightly her feet never seemed to touch the ground.

Meanwhile Ichigo was busily crawling up the wall towards a high window with fingers scrabbling like a spider's legs as he strove to keep anyone from noticing his escape. Attract no attention, Ichigo, he advised himself fervently as he inched towards that egress. Garner no more comment than a tiny cockroach scuttling along the floor. Be the cockroach, Ichigo. Be the cockroach!

A bared sword slammed into the wall directly over his head. Ichigo fell back to earth with a squeal. For a few moments he was so immersed in the roach persona that he just flailed on his back with arms and legs waving helplessly in the air.

"Kurosaki Ichigo…"

Those words struck abject terror into his heart, and he whipped up to sit trembling in the seiza position, not daring to move.

"You have had carnal relations with my sister," Byakuya intoned murderously as he came to pace back and forth behind the shuddering youth. "My little sister." His hand came down on Ichigo's shoulder, making him whimper anew. Those thin fingers squeezed. "There is only one possible recourse in this situation. The only honorable action you can take. I trust no further explanation is required. "

The sword drove into the carpet right in front of him, its gleaming razor edge presented to his sweating face. At the same time Byakuya's hand clamped on the back of his skull and began to push him inexorably towards that fatal implement.

"You shall do this, in a way that ensures my sister's honor remains intact. Because if you do not, Kurosaki Ichigo… if you do not… oh, Ichigo. Ichigo, Ichigo. We are going to have words. We are going to have words, you and I."

The frantic teen grabbed hold of Byakuya's wrist with both hands to try and hold him back. Yet though he struggled with all his might, still that bared blade continued to draw ever closer. What the heck?! he demanded silently. I'm stronger than Byakuya, aren't I?! I mean, I beat him in Soul Society, so that means I'm stronger! Holy crap, he's gonna kill me! I gotta explain, it wasn't as bad as he thinks, I mean…!

Oh, that's right, King, his disembodied Hollow mocked maliciously. Tell him what a great lay his little sister was! Bet that'll improve his opinion of you lickety-split.

Shut up! It wasn't like that! It was pure, and beautiful, and… and…

The gleaming edge brushed against his nose.

… AND I'M GONNA DIE!

---

"Wake UP, Ichi-nii!"

A pillow slammed into his face. Ichigo sat bolt upright in bed, kicking the sheets off to yank the obstruction free. Breathing and perspiring heavily, he looked over to find his little sister Karin standing by the bed.

"You were shouting in your sleep," the lank-haired waif offered by way of explanation. "Something about cockroaches." She then turned towards the door of his room. "Anyway, time to get up. We've got a busy day planned."

Alone once more, the bedraggled youth took a chance to catch his breath. Then he buried his face in the pillow, shuddering at the memory of that awful dream. Just a dream. It was just a dream, Ichigo. Only a dream…

---

Not this damn dream again…

Hachi stared up at him with hands pressed to his throat. Blood spilled between those pudgy fingers. A part of him wanted the obese slob to beg. He knew it stemmed from his Hollow side, but by all that's holy, I'm letting myself do this after holding back for so long, why not enjoy it fully? C'mon, you gluttonous wad of blubber, beg! Beg for your life! Beg me to save you, c'mon, fatty, BEG!

He thought for sure the overweight piece of shit would pull out his Hollow mask to try and heal himself. Then they could make this last for a little while longer.

Instead, Hachi just stared at him with those sad doomed eyes while blood continued to gout from the brutal wound across his throat. Like he knew what was coming but didn't care. Like he was saying… I'm sorry… for you…

He flinched, and in that moment, his comrade Hachigen Ushōda closed his eyes and quietly toppled forward into the sand.

I did it.

He's dead. I killed Hachi. I really did it, I… killed him!

They'll know it was you.

What? No… no, they won't. They'll assume it was one of the Hollows. Like Grimmjow! I can feel him over there, fighting Shinji, and…

Grimmjow? He doesn't slit people's throats. He tears them apart, remember? That's what Hollows do. With their teeth, King. With their teeth.

He stared down at the corpse.

What are you…?

You know.

(this is a lie)

A shudder went through him.

No.

Do it.

SHUT UP!

DO IT, KING! OTHERWISE THEY'LL KNOW IT WAS YOU! THEY'LL KILL YOU!

I can't! Oh mercy, I can't do it! Please, let's just run, we can run!

(it wasn't like this it didn't happen this way you know this isn't how it happened)

Eat him, King.

On his knees, sniffling and hiccupping like an infant, body shaking uncontrollably as though he was sick, diseased… his Hollow helm opened its jaws. A sob burst from his throat.

(don't do this to him please it's only a dream)

Then he bent down, gasping in short frantic breaths, and took his first bite…

---

There were tears on his face when he came awake, and he caught himself almost saying, 'I'm sorry'.

Rising from his cot in the cave, the Vaizard moved through the communal area where they did all their cooking and socializing. And to think I once looked down on that junkpile warehouse with its post-apocalyptic basement. Now look what we've been reduced to.

There was a light on in Lisa's alcove. Could she seriously be reading at this hour? Not like she had to hide her perversions from them. He could hear Mashiro thrashing in her sleep as she wrestled with imaginary monsters. Upon reaching the mouth of the cave he stared out at the thin slit of horizon visible. The eternal night sky of Hueco Mundo was black and empty. How I miss the stars. What are we even doing here? Maybe I should talk to them about leaving. There's no point. Killing Grimmjow won't bring back Hachi. Even killing me wouldn't do it. He's gone, and we should get on with our lives.

He felt Shinji approaching, and had to resist the urge to turn around and face him. His inner Hollow always made him fear being stabbed in the back. Can't give it any more control than I already have.

"Couldn't sleep either?" he asked offhandedly as the leader of the Vaizard drew up at his side.

"Nope." Hirako held out a steaming cup of coffee, which he accepted. "Drink up quick. We just got word from Tiger Company."

"About what?" He took a careful sip, wincing at how hot it was. At the same time, he wondered why they would send a message to Shinji and not the rest of us.

"They've spotted Grimmjow."

The Vaizard paused. "I see." After a moment he swallowed another scalding mouthful before emptying the rest onto the dry sand, which gobbled it up like mouthfuls of Hachi's fat juicy flesh, King!

There wasn't even a trace of anxiety at this disgusting thought as he turned to his longtime ally and stated, "Then let's go get him."

---

Rukia Kuchiki knocked on the door before settling in to wait. She glanced around at the clear blue sky and rows of affluent homes running around this neighborhood. A cool breeze rose to tease her hair, and she pushed both hands deeper into the pockets of her coat. A heavy skirt kept the worst of the mid-autumn chill from reaching more than skin deep. Still, it didn't escape her notice that she was trembling. For all that she could lay claim to a command of ice, the cold still bothered her today. She remembered how sometimes it was a real pleasure to slip out of her gigai and float about as a spirit in this world, unencumbered by the demands of the flesh.

You're so tense. Take it down a notch.

Easy for you to say.

You really believe that?

… No. Sorry.

Atta girl.

After a few moments there came the sound of latches being drawn on the other side of the door. Quite a few of them, actually. And a number of deadbolts. Rukia hugged herself restlessly while this was taking place. The person who lived here clearly wanted to keep someone out. She knew who it was, and could appreciate the sentiment.

At last the final catch was thrown, and the door opened. The man behind it looked down at her dispassionately. "Kuchiki-san," he spoke with a slight inclination of his head.

She bowed back. "Ishida-sensei."

Behind his glasses, Ryūken Ishida's eyes flitted around the yard as though in search of other arrivals. A neighbor across the street peered curiously over some bushes she had been trimming, but quickly turned back to them upon catching the white-haired physician's stare. Satisfied, he turned to his guest. "Won't you come in?" he said, stepping aside to allow her room.

The miniscule maiden entered the foyer. While she removed her shoes Ishida proceeded to securely barricade his front door again. Not unduly disturbed at the thought of being locked in here, Rukia had a look around while she unwound her knitted scarf and removed her coat. There was little to see. A long hallway with a coat rack, low table and umbrella stand led off past the rise. Nothing more noticeable presented itself. Well, first thing's first. Tradition must be observed.

As Ryūken came up she held out a small sack. "From the Usagi Shoten, by way of thanks."

He accepted this customary gift and set it on the table without bothering to look inside. Crossing his arms, the ageless doctor regarded his visitor squarely. "I've delayed going in to work on account of this. Please tell me what is so urgent, Kuchiki-san."

Rukia's face felt hot and prickly. For a moment she feared bursting into tears. Desperately she sought to maintain her composure. "I understand it might seem improper asking to meet at your residence without anyone else in attendance. My apologies for any trouble this may have caused, Ishida-sensei. Please understand I mean no harm to your reputation, but I also do not wish to advertise this visit."

"Understood." His chin lifted a fraction in a way she found unnervingly similar to Byakuya. "Now that we've dismissed the appearance of impropriety, how may I be of service?"

He did not ask her to sit down or indeed come any further into his home. There was no sense of either wariness or openness about him at all. The man was like a closed book.

No secret where the Pencil got his charming personality from.

Don't go picking up bad habits. And this is important. Let me handle it.

If you say so.

Sode no Shirayuki's observation was not far off the mark. Ishida Uryu's father bore a distinct resemblance to his son if you discounted the white hair. More important than this, he also shared an understanding of her position in this world and the next, having fought during the Autumn War in Soul Society. However according to all accounts Ryūken wanted no great involvement in the affairs of the supernatural. He was motivated by purely terrestrial concerns and did not join his offspring in the Quincy's vendetta against all Hollows. Despite this, one glaring exception to this rule had been made known to her.

Steeling herself, she continued. "It is my understanding that you are the physician for Isshin Kurosaki, and have been for several years now."

His face did not alter in the slightest. "Just so."

"As such you are familiar with his… particular physical state."

The way she emphasized this last made him narrow his eyes slightly. "People in our profession consider self-diagnosis to be a blatant conflict of interest. In this case, a second medical opinion would also require an understanding of issues less mundane than, say, ear, nose and throat specialty." Ryūken then gave her a very meaningful look. "Such as the functioning of what you call gigai."

To this Rukia could come up with no response. Formal Kuchiki discipline was proving harder to maintain than usual. She clutched her coat to her chest, feeling unaccountably nervous. And, when you came right down to it, ashamed.

Perhaps her host picked up on this anxiety, for he finally held out a hand indicating she should proceed down the hallway. "Would you like to continue this discussion in the living room?"

Rukia accepted with a shaky nod. He offered to take her coat, after which she walked on past. At the end of the corridor they came out into a well-situated room boasting a comfortable sofa and chairs, a few bookshelves and a lowered area for a tantobon table. Despite the serious nature of her business, Rukia found herself curious to at last see where Ishida called home. The inside of the house was more spacious and costly than Ichigo's, boasting high ceilings and decor that complemented the layout. At the same time there was a pronounced lack of the warmth she had come to associate with that cozy little domicile. She saw no framed photographs of any kind. The only decoration on the walls was an old-style painting of a ferocious bulging-eyed demon in samurai armor hoisting a tremendous sword over one shoulder, and a wall scroll beside it bearing the kanji for what looked at first glance to be 'canine warrior'.

The slender medic stood by the entryway as she took a seat. "Can I offer you something to drink before we continue?" When she shook her head he came over and sat across from her. "Kuchiki-san, I'm given to understand you hold a place of prominence in your world's ruling class, as well as being a high-ranking member of the shinigami division focused on medicine. To say nothing of the fact that you are considered a patron of the largest collection of scientific minds your realm has to offer." Ryūken leaned forward to rest elbows on his knees. "Without any trace of self-deprecation, what can someone like me possibly offer you?"

Too many thoughts were rattling around inside her head. That sense of coldness was back. Rukia admitted to herself now it had nothing to do with weather.

This was the sensation of fear.

I'm afraid.

It took an effort to reclaim her voice, and even then she spoke in a throat gone dry. "I don't know for sure what would be the correct course of action here. I need the opinion of a physician, one who is not beholden to me or my family."

A crinkle formed at the bridge of his nose. "So you require… discretion."

That was too close for comfort. Rukia sniffed, looking away and hastily wiping at her eyes before turning back to him. Maybe it's time to stop dancing around the issue. "Sensei, can I ask you to examine the gigai I am using?"

He seemed to consider this before responding. "If you like. Would it make you more comfortable to step out of it when I do?"

This time she couldn't hold back the tears, and Ryūken grew visibly alarmed upon seeing them, which only made things worse. Immediately Sode no Shirayuki's reassuring presence engulfed the girl like a warm quilt. Her mouth worked silently for a moment before Rukia finally admitted…

"I can't."

A wooden clock on the table ticked away, emphasizing the silence that followed. Slowly the Quincy doctor stood upright. His face had resumed a look of professional resolve. "Come with me, please, Kuchiki-san. I will help the best I can."

She got up and followed him obediently, feeling like a student back at the Academy about to take an exam. Only now Rukia already knew the answer that awaited her.

I'm proud of you.

Why?

Don't spoil it by being clueless. Just let me offer support, okay?

Alright… thanks.

Honestly, I wish Yumichika was here. You could never be mopey around him.

So true. Without hesitation this brought a small smile to her face. The coldness went away like magic, and Rukia walked forward feeling hopeful no matter what the future might hold in store.

---

The mail had arrived early at the Usagi Shoten, a fact which pleasantly surprised Kon. Upon checking the box, he felt a thrill of excitement upon noticing the sturdy parcel stuffed in with advertisements and bills. Those last would be reserved for Nee-san, but if this was what he thought it was…

Anticipation proved too great, and the mod soul eagerly ripped open the package right then and there. He eased the contents out a bit, quivering in anticipation.

YES!

Gleefully Kon headed back inside, shutting the doors behind him. The shop wouldn't open for a while yet. The weekend was a slow time for them, with limited hours to allow their employees an opportunity to enjoy themselves should they so choose. It was a concession by the management he deeply appreciated. Especially now.

Ganju Shiba met him in the main store area lugging a few crates. He set them down quickly upon noticing the look on his coworker's face. "Did it come?" he demanded in trepidation.

Kon held up the item in question. "Oh, yeah, m'man!"

The son of Shiba snatched it away, drawing forth from its wrapping a DVD. "At last!" he exulted. "Our long-awaited copy of Bodacious Biker Babes has arrived!" A furtive look dawned on his homely face. "Do you think we should…?"

"Rukia-neesan went out, Jinta's checking inventory, and Noboru still hasn't come back from Soul Society." Kon rubbed his hands together and wiggled his eyebrows meaningfully. "I think we two gents should take advantage of this heaven-sent opportunity, don't you?"

The brawny hooligan slapped his comrade's arm and led the way back to his room. It was all they could do not to run, so excited were they. Kon and Ganju had become fast friends since working together here in the mortal world. They both knew a great deal about living in repressive environments that didn't allow you to express your natural-born curiosities, and this went a long way towards erasing any differences that might have existed between them. Kon had done his part to help the relatively backwards soul acclimate to this strange new world, while Ganju happily volunteered his time and energy in their other pursuits. Sharing the skin mags that abounded in the mortal dimension only served to cement their bond. The two men were close as brothers, an absence they both had worked to ignore up 'til now.

"I propose we watch to the halfway point, then save the rest for later," the hirsute gang boss suggested as he approached his room. "That should give us a chance to heighten the anticipation for what happens next!"

"Sounds like a plan." Kon hopped from one foot to another in excitement as Ganju slid the door of his chambers open.

Sitting on the floor smoking a pipe, Kukaku Shiba looked up and grinned, a tiger spotting its prey. "Hey, there, little brother."

Her younger sibling stopped dead in his tracks. "O-nee-chan!" he gasped, face contorted into an unholy rictus of terror.

"K-K-Kukaku-dono!" Kon gasped beside him. It felt as though his blood had frozen from one instant to the next. However unlike Ganju, he had no bizarre childhood trauma to relive in that moment, so he managed to recover faster. "What brings you by? If we'd known you were coming, we'd have–"

"Baked me a cake?" she interjected slyly. The voluptuous soul wagged the pipe between her teeth as she examined them. Kukaku still wore the vest and skirt combo he remembered from Soul Society with wild black hair spilling out of a burnoose. Seeing her lounging on the floor, one knee up and lone arm dangling off it, a man could easily be tempted to try his luck. There was certainly a lot to catch the eye, and her skimpy outfit only served to remind you even more lay in wait. All boldness and bounty, Kukaku Shiba stood as non-living proof that less was so much more. She would have definitely held a top spot in Kon's own private fantasies. That is, had he not seen the things she did to poor Ganju during their brief hiatus in Soul Society. The memories sometimes came back to him at the most inopportune times, spoiling what should have been most pleasurable daydreams.

"Well?"

That one terse word seemed to snap Ganju out of his fear-filled haze. "O-nee-chan!" Behind his broad back he held out their cherished prize, which Kon covertly accepted to stuff into the waistband of his trousers. "Please be welcome! Can I get you anything?! It's truly a joy to have you in my dwelling!"

"Wish I could say the same." Her gleaming eye roved over the piles of dirty magazines hidden behind heaps of unwashed clothes. Kukaku did not bat an eyelash at this debris of a bachelor's lifestyle. In fact, when she rounded on them again, her grin had only grown bigger. "I see you've been living it up while I've been away."

There was a pronounced absence of affection in that smile. Perhaps it was this that spurred Kon to leap to Ganju's rescue. "Kukaku-dono, I can explain, you see…"

"Kon-san." The way she spoke his name without even looking at him caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. There was so much authority and menace mixed in he had to wonder why on earth this woman wasn't leading armies back in Soul Society. "It was good to see you again," the head of the Shiba clan continued lightly. "Don't let us keep you from your duties in the shop."

Now that right there was a royal command if he ever heard it. It completely killed whatever objection he might have been concocting. Kon threw a commiserative look at Ganju, who completely missed it for want of not taking his eyes off the predator waiting to pounce on him. With that he prepared to flee from whatever dreadful punishment was about to take place.

"Oh… and Kon-san? Whatever my brother just gave you, kindly hand it back to him."

He did so, without hesitation. Ganju actually looked at him then, and in his sweating corpse-like pallor was a clear plea for help. Sorry, buddy, I really am, but… better you than me.

Kon proceeded to hightail it away from there. Getting back to the first floor of their business, he spied the crates previously laid down. It was Ganju's turn to deliver today, but something told him that wasn't in the cards. These were in-home orders for some of their less mobile clients. In a flash he picked them up and sped away. Should I have warned Jinta? Nah, he's good.

It did not escape his notice there appeared to be storm clouds gathering over the shop. Sure hope the place is still standing by the time I get back or Nee-san might be upset.

For the next hour, the mod soul put his vaunted legs to good advantage, blazing through the streets of Karakura at speeds that would have taxed marathon distance runners. He didn't go all-out; no sense raising suspicions about how anyone could be so ungodly fast. Still, it felt good to stretch his pistons. Some of the local kids playing at the park spotted him and gave chase as far as they could, chanting his name and urging him to even greater speeds. He grinned and complied by taking a long jump that would have netted him gold at any Olympics. They screeched in delight, and he left them with a friendly wave before continuing on his way. It really was good to be alive.

"Oh, what a fine young man you are, Kon-kun," old Mrs. Aonuma declared as he plopped down her weekly rice, veggies and dried noodles. "Holding down a job and contributing to the community all in one go! How many other boys out of high school can say the same? You stay right here, let me get you something good to tide you over on your route."

"Thanks, o-jii-san." He waited by the door as the tiny old woman went bustling back into her house, returning a minute later with a wrapped parcel which she handed over to him.

"Here you are, dear! My Kashiwa cakes are a world apart from that junk you find in the stores. Ask anyone hereabouts, they're practically legendary in these parts." Her wrinkled face beamed a smile that was mostly toothless, but not lacking in warmth as a result. "Make sure you share them with that sweet young lady you work for, now. Might just be the thing to catch her interest, eh? Heh-heh!"

Blushing, he accepted the gift. "Pretty sure I've mentioned she's seeing somebody else. But thanks again."

"Oh, I know how it goes, dear." Mrs. Aonuma patted his hand in commiseration before heaving a long-suffering sigh. "I had my share of affairs of the heart back in the day. It's a tale as old as time, unchanging as the seasons themselves! Why, wouldn't you know? My granddaughter is in town from college, and she's just broken up with her boyfriend. Such a shame." She gave a sad shake of her head that served to express all the weight of her years. "A fine vigorous young woman, with a good head on her shoulders, good prospects and a lovely personality. But teenagers nowadays, specifically boys… why, they're just a bunch of layabouts and spendthrifts living off their hardworking parents! Times certainly have changed."

"Yeah, I hear that." Kon felt his good mood sour just a tad as her words brought a certain scowling carrot-top to mind. He grimaced and took up the stack of crates once more. "Well, I better get going. See you next week, o-jii-san!"

"Oh, how my old heart aches to think of her moping about, pining after that lazy octopus," she continued without hearing him. "If only there was a way to get her mind off him for a while, let her see that there's so much better prospects than some baldy who hasn't even got a job and spends all his time playing video games and singing karaoke with his hoodlum buddies! Yes, I could die happy were there someone willing to treat her nicely while she's here visiting, for one night at least."

He shrugged sympathetically as the biddy dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. "Well, I'd like to be of help, but–"

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear it!" The elderly matron grasped his hand and bobbed up and down with remarkable alacrity for her age. "You two are going to have such a nice time! Now, I'll make sure she meets you at the Usagi Shoten tonight at 7 PM sharp!"

Kon blinked. "Wait, what?"

"This is such good news!" She led him back towards the street, talking non-stop. "I can't wait to tell her, I'll call straightaway! Girls need time to look their best, after all. Now, Kon-kun, I don't want you to feel as though you have to impress her on the very first date, just a nice dinner with maybe a trip to a shopping center, nothing fancy, don't overtax yourself, it will only disrupt your digestion, take it from me, I know a thing or two about that. And be sure to dress sharp, the ladies always appreciate that. Remember, 7 o'clock, on the dot, outside your store, this very evening, I'm looking forward to hearing good news about the date, well, goodbye!"

Mrs. Aonuma hustled back into her house double-time and shut the door. She left one very bewildered young man standing on the street corner clutching a stack of deliveries with some admittedly fine Kashiwa cakes nestled atop them.

Date?

After about a minute, Kon regained enough clarity to say the only thing that made sense in this situation.

"Huh?"

---

Saijin Komamura was crouched down in his herb garden when he heard a voice call out, "Ohaio, jii-san!"

Large hands stilled in plucking lemongrass. For just a moment there was an urge to growl deep in his throat so strong that suppressing it nearly choked him. Upon opening his eyes, the bulky gardener sat back and turned with a scowl to face his uninvited guest. "Greetings, Kuchiki-sama. Please make yourself at home."

Atop the wall to his left lounged Noboru Kuchiki. The young soul was resting on the peak of the roof with arms crossed beneath his chin. That cheeky grin he wore seemed so out of place on a member of the Kuchiki Clan one could almost doubt his parentage. Sadly, the truth of the matter was as evident as the nose on his face. The boy scrambled up to sit on the tiled peak with his legs kicking lazily. A bejeweled hairpin carved in the shape of a monkey was stuck in his black tresses. He had on a red jacket patterned with gold thread and a pair of shockingly green trousers buckled by a length of rope. The incongruity of his garb might have been perplexing were one less familiar with him.

Why, why can I not be less familiar with him? Please?

In a flash the brazen youth had hopped down and was poking around so fast it left after-images of him all over the place. The whole time he never left off firing questions and observations nonstop. "Hey, jii-san, what's this tool for? Do you like the smell of dirt? I brought you a new brush. What's your favorite type of sweets? Mine's German chocolate cake. Do you like it when people rub your ears? Are you color blind? Did you ever meet anyone famous in the mortal world? Like Miyamoto Musashi or Elvis Presley? Oh! Is Elvis here? Is he really dead? What about in Soul Society, then? What did your division do, anyway?"

Despondently Saijin resumed busying himself in the garden without another glance at the boy, who raced around or popped up over his broad shoulder to study what he was doing. He had no idea what the son of a nobleman would want with a fallen shinigami like him. Sure enough, though, this in no way deterred Noboru.

"Have you ever been married? You seem like the sort of guy who'd really wow the ladies. Like Don Juan and Casanova, y'know? I'll bet you're more popular than you think. Say, what do you know about the Wild Hunt?"

His hands stilled in their pruning. Komamura turned to regard his inquisitive companion, who stood rocking back and forth with hands behind his head. There was a smile on his face, but the boy had stopped asked further questions, which apparently meant he was waiting for an answer. "Who told you about that?" he asked warily.

"You mean who told me you might know something? Lady Kotetsu's little sister, the one who can't keep a secret. I gave her some info about my Pop, and she told me you came to visit her new brother-in-law after the attack to talk to them about it. Also you're one of the last captains to fight the Hunt. So what's the deal?"

This new conversational track served to remind Saijin he was dealing with the presumptive heir to the Shihoin as well. And they were a family that believed in rooting out secrets. He doubted this was an effort by the boy's mother to learn more through him about Saijin's connection to the Wild Hunt. It was too direct, for starters. Regardless he proceeded with caution.

"I participated in its destruction forty years ago." The big man came to his feet, dusting off his knees and picking up his tool basket. Without being asked Noboru collected the bunch of fresh herbs and vegetables and trotted along beside him as they headed back into the main house. "My division and the Third under Gin Ichimaru fought them in the world of the living. Our mission was deemed a success, though the loss of human life involved might be far from what some might call a resounding victory."

"How did you pick out Cernunnos?" Noboru pressed his advantage. "Was there a tell, like if you stood far enough away you could see they moved around with it always at the center?"

"The Hunt is too chaotic for such strategies." Saijin led them into the kitchen area. He hung his hat and gloves from a support post in the middle of the room, then proceeded to begin washing the veggies with water pumped fresh from the well. Noboru handed them over when he was ready for a new one, and he continued his cautionary tale. "They know their targets and little else. Challenging them boils down to indiscriminately slaughtering their ranks until you hit upon the right one that banishes the rest." As he accepted a clutch of whole scallions from the youth, those fierce yellow canine eyes locked on his gray ones. "Why this interest in the Hunt, Kuchiki-sama?"

In response the boy blew out his bangs. "Y'know, I'm not officially with the Kuchiki yet. You can just call me 'Noboru' and it wouldn't be weird. I promise not to tell anybody at home."

It did not escape his notice how the question had been dodged. He definitely had his mother's habit of secrecy. Though no sign of her more… persuasive methods, thankfully. There were rumors Soifon had a hand in his ongoing tutelage. If so, the prospect of hot irons and bamboo slivers was still in the realm of possibility. He decided to play it safe.

"Thank you, Kuchiki-sama, but I am not worthy of such familiarity between us. Proper forms must be observed."

"I don't get it." The lordling crossed his arms and frowned while Saijin went about selecting vegetables from the basket. "You were a captain for decades, with bankai and war wounds and everything, but I've never heard you say a word about it. Most people it's exactly the opposite; they've only got nice things to say about themselves and the rest of the world can go hang for all they care. But you seem permanently down on anything and everything related to you. You're a dog-general, caballero! Like straight out of a manga big-deal lord-of-war dog-demon bad hombre with fangs and everything! I mean, what have you got against being you?"

As the lad exulted, Saijin stared down into the basin of water at his reflection. What he saw there in no way resembled the salutatory figure Noboru described. Sadly he reached up to grasp the pump handle and send more water cascading down to shatter that worthless image gazing morosely back at him.

"What I was never amounted to much, Kuchiki-sama. And what I have become strips away any and all honor that might have been bestowed upon me in the past."

For a time Noboru just stared at him. Then he reached up and patted the furry giant on the shoulder. "Doesn't matter to me. I still think you're pretty damn cool." He then added, "And I meant what I said before. The girls would probably go wild over you still, captain or no. Don't act like you're not interested. Remember Captain Odelschvank at my parents' wedding? Talk about hot! And have you ever met my Aunt Rukia? She's a classy lady, y'know, can see past the exterior of people, always a nice thing to say about folks, and she loves cute animals! Well, rabbits mostly, but I wouldn't mind having you for an uncle at all. Unlike that fresa Kurosaki! Talk about worthless. Qué bruto! Now there's someone who belongs on the wrong side of the bars in a zoo, face like a Tasmanian devil's butt, not to mention…"

This line of conversation left Saijin even more uncomfortable than when they had been discussing the Hunt. It came as an abject relief to him when a hell butterfly came bobbing in through a window and landed on Noboru's shoulder. Giving a grimace the boy waved it off.

"Shoot. Gotta do some training. I'll see you later. Oh, and I'll bring Aunt Rukia by next time, you two should really hit it off, no need to thank me, bye!"

Before he could object there came a swish of shunpo. Komamura looked around to find himself alone in the kitchen. Feeling a distinct sense of trepidation about what tomorrow might bring, he resolved to do some cleaning that he had been putting off. Just in case that last threat turned out to be real. With Noboru Kuchiki, you never knew what to expect.

---

"Their course hasn't changed for over half an hour," Ikkaku Madarame reported as he stood beside his captain and vice-captain atop a weathered plateau. They observed the convoy of Hollows from a distance. The pack moved across the dunes of Hueco Mundo at speeds that left a veritable sandstorm behind them. "He knows we're here," the Third Seat stated tersely with Hōzukimaru draped in readiness over one shoulder. "This many shinigami might as well be loaded down with bells. We'll never take him by surprise."

Zaraki's only response was a spine-shivering rumble. A shake of his head produced no musical accompaniment to that comment. The Kenpachi had stopped wearing any bells after the Autumn War. The eyepatch hadn't changed, though now it served mainly to hide the fact he really was missing an eye. The warlord and his cohort had arrived on the scene only a minute past. Ikkaku couldn't tell if the encounter with Jigoku had changed anything inside his captain's head. Zaraki never spoke about what might have passed between them, and Yachiru adamantly refused to answer questions on the subject, taking smug delight in sealing her lips against any and all entreaties. Right now she was absorbed in chewing on a lollipop while kicking her heels lazily atop the captain's shoulder. None of this served to diminish their shared relish at what lay ahead.

"Grimmjow's crew is a tough bunch of customers," Madarame continued. "I've pulled in all our patrols that were in the vicinity." He then remembered something else of importance. "Oh, and we sent word to the Vaizard." An hour ago, he added silently.

"We got lost!" Yachiru exclaimed as she hopped excitedly up and down atop her perch.

Like we needed her to tell us that.

Ikkaku couldn't help but agree. He dispatched the hell butterfly to Shinji and company under the impression that Captain Zaraki was only 2 minutes away at most. There should have been no way the Masked Army would arrive in time to cause a ruckus. As the minutes dragged on, though, he recalled who he was dealing with. Invincible warrior he might be, but Kenpachi Zaraki could get lost in a hallway. Yachiru's presence didn't improve those odds. Now here they were well past the point he assumed the mission would begin, and with every passing moment the likelihood of those nutty hybrids showing up grew ever greater.

"Looks like they're heading somewhere, Kenny," the tiny lieutenant of Tiger informed her towering transport.

"What about it?" he finally growled back, the first words spoken since their arrival.

"Well, what if it's someplace important, like a party? That means even if we hit them they won't stop to play, they'll just try to break through and get where they're going."

"Right." After a moment of grim consideration, the Kenpachi rounded on his Third Seat. "Send three detachments to move as far ahead as they can. Once we attack they'll move in to catch any that try to escape."

"At those speeds it's all a lot of our guys can do just to keep up with them," Ikkaku felt the need to point out.

"That so?" His heart sank at the evil expression spreading over the captain's face. "Guess that means you better join 'em. Make sure they don't get lost."

I think he heard you, Hōzukimaru.

Really? Let's find out. HEY, ZARAKI! EAT A DI–

"YES, TAICHOU!" Ikkaku bellowed at the top of his lungs and saluted before hustling off to relay these orders.

Meanwhile the leader of Tiger Company rounded on the battle-hungry soldiers arrayed behind him and raised his weapon overhead without speaking a single word. They responded in kind, every last man and woman eager to commence the bloodletting at long last. With that their undying commander spun and launched himself at the forefront of his army.

"WELL, AWRIGHT!"

A few paces down the line, Makizo Aramaki took one last chug from a jar of saké before smashing it against his head. Whipping his dripping locks from side to side, the mad drunk wrenched his soul cutter from its sheathe and brandished it overhead. "GIT ALONG, LIL' DOGGIES!" he bellowed.

His fellows in Tiger Company roared their enthusiastic support of this statement despite having no clue what it meant. Moments later they went swarming over the edge of the plateau, tumbling and careening with all the grace and destructive fury of a landslide.

---

"Here they come!" Tezima shouted as the shinigami forces came pouring in from the west.

Running beside her, Grimmjow Jaguerjaques briefly turned his head without breaking stride. He then looked over one shoulder at his hunting party and flicked a hand in the direction they had been moving. "If you get separated, head back to the forest! I'll send word later. And if you don't kill at least a few of 'em, don't bother showing up!"

With that he sped away. Enfain Tezima caught up to him, having already assumed her battle form. "That's a helluva lot of power headed our way," she called. "Think our friends with the masks are with them?"

"I'll find out soon enough," he smirked in anticipation. "Now get going!"

She obeyed, peeling off and vanishing under a pall of Hollow magic. Racing in full resurrección beneath the lightless desert sky, the panther demon exulted. Already his lynx-like ears had picked up the unmistakable sound of fighting from the lagging ends of his crew. As determined as he was to reach their destination, the thought of getting there without any sort of opposition hadn't sat too well with him. Now it seemed like his prayers were answered. Enfain hadn't been wrong about the immense strength of the force arrayed against them. It seemed too much to hope that this be the contingent led by his old pal Neliel and her redheaded cock of a boyfriend. Fate had already been kind enough. Considering it might be the only action he got for a while, he was resolved to make the most of it.

Next thing Grimmjow knew, a huge white-robed shinigami was speeding alongside him with a grin that chilled the Espada to his core.

"Hey!" the death god rasped, and swung his sword around like the crest of a tsunami.

He dodged on instinct. There was no merit in trying to block something like that. Jaguerjaques threw himself to one side. In the slow motion acuity that came only with recognizing a threat to one's life, he could swear he saw a dimensional tear in the wake of that screaming blade. Galaxies seemed to open up before him. And then the swing was completed. What followed was an explosion of power that only kept getting bigger, rising up to touch the sky and shooting off towards the horizon without any sign of stopping.

Caught in the shockwave of this attack, the Sexta flew much farther than he had originally intended. Earth and sky cycled around him so fast he didn't know which way was up. By the time he had finished rolling across the sand and staggered to one knee, Grimmjow was shocked to see what looked to be the conflict he had left behind now over a mile away. How in the hell…?!

"Found him, Ken-chan!" a high-pitched voice laughed close by.

A shadow fell over him. Grimmjow's eyes widened. His head whipped around in time to see something huge thundering down. A Cero blasted from his palm to meet this assault mere moments before it hit.

For all the good it did.

A terrific boom caused the ground of Hueco Mundo to jump for leagues in every direction. It knocked several shinigami who were back at the fighting off their feet. Some looked to the source of this seismic activity to find a towering statue of a smiling white cat waving at them from far away. This earned no more comment than had it been a hell butterfly on the wing.

Back at the source of that cataclysm found Grimmjow flat on his back with both hands and feet up in the air straining to keep this thing from crushing him to death. It felt like holding up a mountain. He was half-submerged in the sand already, head barely above ground level, teeth clenched and muscles straining to their utmost. To his horror he could feel his trembling limbs start to buckle already. Sunnuvabitch, is this how I go?! I never even saw what hit me!

"That's enough."

The weight was flipped off him to land a ways back. For a time Grimmjow could only stare panting at the open sky. When he looked over, it was to see a tremendous white cat statue lying on one side holding a gold coin with a bell around its neck. This incomprehensible sight took up all his attention. That is, until a hand seized hold of his long hair and yanked him upright.

Glowing yellow from head to foot, that same enormous shinigami from before held the Hollow hunter aloft to dangle on high. For his part Grimmjow felt like a walnut being crushed between the jaws of a nutcracker. It was even worse than being under that cat-mountain. A sword almost as big as its wielder hung from the troll's fist, resembling a gigantic rounded arrowhead set onto an ornate handle. The aura being put out by this spiky-haired demon god held him fast even more securely than the huge hand at his scalp. He had to fight just to draw in a breath. What the hell was this guy, a vasto lorde?!

"Gotta admit, I was hoping for more out of you," the mad-eyed shinigami sounded like a dog growling.

"Kenny, don't forget to ask him where the Bat Boss is!"

When Grimmjow looked to the source of this cry, he found only a tiny little girl in shinigami robes with pink hair lounging on the slopes. "Hi!" she waved before going back to squeezing mounds of sand between her fists and watching the grains go spilling out in fascination.

Her fellow death god cocked his spade-shaped head to one side and stood with a contemplative expression for a moment, then gave a nod. "Okay, I'll tone it down." At this the yellow outline around his body lessened to a large degree. The gargantuan battle blade shrank down to a slimmer more compact form.

Grimmjow realized he could move again. Immediately he seized hold of the giant's wrist for leverage before swinging both feet up to smash against his jaw. That pincushion pate jerked to one side, only to whip back around terribly fast, now wearing a look of primeval joy so great it erased any last semblance of humanity. "That's more like it!" the hulking war machine slavered as he licked a line of blood from his lip. "Don't take it lying down! Gimme a fight, wild man!"

As crazy as it sounded, Grimmjow still couldn't resist a challenge. One sweep of his claws saw him dropping to the ground with the shinigami now holding a handful of blue hair. This he flung to the side disdainfully. The feral fighter leapt backwards to put some distance between them, crouching down in preparation to go tearing straight in for more.

Instead another figure leapt up from behind the giant to hang superimposed against the night sky. A blank mask with two eye slits covered his face, and one armored fist holding what appeared to be a chakram was cocked back in readiness to strike. With a roar reminiscent of a Hollow, this powerhouse catapulted towards him, causing Grimmjow to spring away. When the newcomer struck the ground an explosive geyser blasted heavenward.

Upon landing, Jaguerjaques half-turned to find the familiar form of Shinji Hirako standing behind him.

"Grimmjow!" the masked fighter snarled, and fired a Cero without hesitation.

The Sexta dropped to land on his back, face lit by the raw crimson power roaring a few feet overhead. The beam streaked along straight at the berserker giant from before, who casually stood his ground without moving, only raising his sword to meet it. Red energy slammed against this weapon and was dispersed to all sides as though it were no more than water. In the meantime Jaguerjaques tucked his knees against his chest, braced his palms against the ground overhead and launched himself forward with all the strength he could muster. His pawed feet lashed out as he drove himself towards the Vaizard, who twisted aside to let him go soaring past. The energy beam spun with him, and the pink-haired child from before had to leap aside to keep from being struck by it.

"Play nice, Greasy!" she pouted upon landing. Her hand rose, index finger extended. "Hadō #1: Shō!"

A boom like a firework caused the Hollow's ears to ring. It also knocked the Vaizard leader off his feet to go tumbling helplessly like a rag doll into the distance. Grimmjow actually lost sight of him as a result.

Well, hell, he mused. Maybe she's a captain too. For his part he had already found his feet and come upright. Upon looking back he found that, to no surprise, Captain Calamity stood unharmed. However the frown that gargantuan figure wore, coupled with the unpleasant gleam in his staring yellow eye, implied he did not take kindly to such treatment of himself or his familiar.

Seeing this gave him an idea. Grimmjow turned back to the first masked fighter, who was now charging at him with great bladed knuckledusters clenched in each fist. He launched himself forward in turn, but halfway there, his body blurred. The silver-haired Vaizard responded by thrusting both arms out and unleashing an explosion that engulfed the Espada directly before him. All trace of his enemy dissolved away in the face of that gigaton of power, leaving the hybrid warrior blinking in surprise.

At that same moment the little girl gave a jump as Grimmjow appeared before her in a slight boom of gemelos sonido. Crouched down on his haunches with his back to her, the maniacal Hollow roared, "YA MISSED ME, DUMBASS!"

Just as expected, his vengeful opponent sprang into the air once more, roaring like a madman as he plummeted towards the Espada, who wasted no time in performing another gemelos that left his afterimage still hanging before the brat in seeming readiness to take the assault.

The girl's big fuschia eyes narrowed. "Nope!" she declared, and an instant later a house-sized kitty-cat monument slammed the approaching Vaizard earthward as though he were no more than a bug.

Jaguerjaques laughed as he reappeared. It's actually easier to fight these clowns with more shinigami around! They're as much a threat to them as me!

"DIE!"

He spun and brought up both hands just in time to catch the gigantic saw-toothed butcher blade aiming to bisect him. The segmented edges roared through his palms like a chainsaw, grinding against his armored fingers. There was only a glimpse of a tiny masked figure in red with blonde tufts of hair sticking out of her head before this one too opened her jaws to build up another destructive Cero blast.

"Back off, Hiyori!" Next thing Grimmjow knew a bald shinigami with a spear tucked under one arm was grabbing the snarling pixie around the waist and dragging her back a ways. "This is the Captain's fight!"

"No!" Her head spun around. Black eyes trained on her ally without a trace of recognition. The spearman barely had a chance to blink before she swung that screaming blade in a backhand arc that would have scalped him had he not ducked in time, allowing her to squirm free. With no hesitation she was then tearing back towards Grimmjow. When her ally tried to catch her again, the girl attacked once more, forcing him to bring up his pole to defend against this wild assault.

"Get away from here, Zaraki."

The person in question slowly craned his neck around to find two more of the Masked Army flanking him. One sported a bushy afro atop his skeletal features and a green track suit, while the other had the bleached skull of a bird with costly raiment that seemed just as out of place in this environment as his partner's. "Grimmjow belongs to us!" the blonde Vaizard pronounced from behind that mask of bone.

The Tiger Captain appeared to lose all interest in them. He looked ahead, taking into account his Third Seat fighting against a maddened Hiyori while Kensei's legs were buckling under the insupportable weight of Yachiru's oversized zanpakutō.

Zaraki inhaled deeply. His smile was gone.

"You're all fuckin' dead," he promised as lines of yellow energy rose once more from his form. The ground started to rumble, followed immediately by the sky.

"Obey, Honnou!"

Everything in the entire world seemed to focus on that one spot as the captain of the Gotei 7 combat division uttered his soul cutter's release command. His sword resumed its previous oversized battle incarnation, only now the power it radiated had increased to an exponential magnitude. It was as though he had become a black hole drawing in the entirety of existence.

Grimmjow's instincts told him to run, and he obeyed them. The pull of spiritual gravity behind him made it feel like he was racing against a mighty headwind or the current of a raging rapids. Still, none of the Vaizard gave chase. The focus of that colossal murderous fury was upon them, and they could no more resist it than the tides could withstand the pull of the moon.

He fled, while at his back, an angry god demanded his due.

---

Five minutes 'til 7 saw Kon sweating outside the Usagi Shoten. He had spent a great deal of time today debating the correct course of action. Should he call the old lady and feign illness? She'd probably just come over with a home remedy and a stick to beat him with when he proved to be lying. Tell her he was an illegal immigrant? Best not to get the law involved too soon. Fake his own death? Better. Let's keep that in mind. Run like mad? Plan B.

Yet somehow, his traitorous heart spoke out against running away, figuratively or literally. Really, Kon, what's the big deal? Not like you're actually seeing anyone. And it's just a blind date. No reason to think anything real is going to result from it. Even if Rukia finds out, she won't think less of you. In fact, this might be to your benefit. Show her that you're a mature person who can handle something of this nature. Or maybe she'll get jealous and it'll go a long way towards… uhhh, getting her interest? Something like that.

So it was that after work he retreated to his room and began trying on clothes. As it turned out, Kon had a much bigger wardrobe than he ever noticed. Sure, Yuzu had dragged him and Karin along on a few shopping trips lately, and he wound up spending a goodly chunk of his paycheck on clothes she insisted were 'perfect' for him, but after coming back home he just wound up hanging the outfits in his closet and forgetting about them. The less you wore, the less laundry you had to do.

At last he settled on an off-white sportscoat over a striped green dress shirt unbuttoned at the throat to show a beige designer t-shirt. Corduroy slacks felt looser around the midsection than he remembered. Fortunately he found a great cowboy buckle belt that he distinctly recalled vowing never to wear in public. By that point it was drawing close to the appointed hour, and beggars couldn't be choosers. A pair of white loafers with shiny buckles finished the ensemble. Initially he might have asked for an outside opinion, but Ganju and his sister were nowhere to be found, neither Rukia nor Noboru had been heard of all day, and he doubted Jinta had much to contribute regarding fashion. So this would have to do.

Right on the hour a taxi pulled up at the gate. The door opened, and a girl stepped out. She spoke to the driver briefly before walking over. Kon found he was trembling a little. He could feel sweat gliding between his shoulder blades. What am I doing? This is crazy! I never asked for this, and you know what? She probably feels the same way! So I'll just explain things to her, maybe offer a free coupon for the store, and we can… just…

Wait a minute. Isn't that…?

Recognition hit. He could only stare in amazement as the girl drew up to him and heaved a sigh.

"That's a relief. I was afraid she might have set me up with the big gorilla. Granny's eyesight isn't what it used to be."

"Y… yeah," he managed back.

In front of him stood Mizuho Asano, older sister to Ichigo's friend Keigo.

He remembered her, of course. Prior to graduating from Karakura 1st High School earlier in the year, Mizuho was briefly introduced to him following the Hueco Mundo abduction incident. At the time she and Uryu's dad were too busy chastising Don Kanonji for his part in that fiasco to make much conversation (although could you really call it 'chastising' when something was inserted up the other person's butt?). Keigo had treated her with the type of hesitancy and circumspection one usually reserved for handling live grenades. Kon recalled thinking her hostile and more energetic than a boxful of puppies, but certainly cute.

That last bit was displayed in full now. Mizuho had on a faded jean jacket over an orange tank top complete with a thick white belt, green miniskirt and black leggings. Leather high-heel boots rose to mid-calf while a dark red scarf encircled her throat. Her light brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and two pink earrings clinked when she moved her head. A student council president, in addition to being captain of her school's baseball club, Mizuho's boundless verve and impressive academic standing enabled her to score swift admission to Hokkaido University in Sapporo, one of the Top 10 schools in the nation. However according to Keigo, the reason she chose Hokkaido U. was because she took offense to their school motto, 'Boys, Be Ambitious,' and set out to upend what she considered to be a backwards and sexist attitude towards women at that institution. Her coming home at this current period might indicate she had ruffled a few feathers among the faculty. That or she was just flat out expelled.

For her part the older teen was taking this opportunity to size him up. "Did you get dressed in the dark?" she asked with a frown. "Or were these your only clean clothes?"

Kon looked down at himself in surprise. "What? Two girls helped me pick these out, how could they be bad?"

"Obviously a girl didn't help you put them together. And for the record, I normally go for bald men." Kon reached up to rub his stubbly hair self-consciously. Before she could abuse his ego further, however, Mizuho shrugged and indicated back towards the taxi with casual authority. "Might as well start the show. C'mon, the meter's running. I already know where we're headed, so let's get cracking."

Nothing to say back came to him, so Kon just followed obediently along behind her. As she was about to enter the car, his date paused and turned around. "What's your name again?"

He felt a twinge of pain in his heart at this clear lack of interest. "Kaizou Konpakku."

"That explains the nickname." With that she ducked inside and scooted over. "Don't make a lady wait, Kon-kun."

Perplexed, conflicted, and seriously resisting the impulse to run like mad, Kon eventually managed to get it together long enough to comply. The door shut and the taxi pulled away into the deepening dusk. They sat together for a while without saying a word. The anxious mod gripped his knees in trepidation. This is it. I'm actually on a date for the first time in my life! Should I say something? What do people really do when they go out? Dammit! Why didn't I buy those erotic dating sims when I had the chance?!

Compliment her appearance. Yeah, that sounds good.

He glanced over. Beside him Mizuho was staring straight ahead with arms crossed looking more relaxed than he would have believed possible in this situation. Okay, there's admittedly a lot to work with here, so just pick something and go for it.

"I like your… hairband," he blurted out.

Slowly her eyes rotated around to fasten on him, and a sudden surge of peril shot through his brain. He could swear he saw a vein throbbing in her temple. When she spoke, however, all Mizuho said was, "How old are you?"

The question was so out of nowhere it left him feeling only surprise. "Why?"

"I'm wondering if this is your first time dating. For some reason I assumed you were older than Kurosaki. Like in your twenties." She fixed him with a measuring look that left Kon feeling like a bug on a windshield. "I'd planned to do some drinking tonight, but if you're not even the legal age, the appeal is lost."

"Well, are you old enough to drink?" he retorted.

"Never ask a lady's age!"

Fire and wrath blazed up in an instant, causing him to jerk back as a face straight from a horror flick threatened him with all manner of bodily harm. This girl is nuts! "Beg your pardon!" he gasped out.

The hell-beast went back in her cage. "That's okay. Hope you brought your wallet. This is a good place we're headed. My ex and I used to go there all the time. Lots of memories."

"Oh."

The conversation shut down after that, leaving the rest of the ride to pass in silence until they reached the place in question. Mizuho got out without waiting for him to open the door for her, which he had been planning on to demonstrate a sense of chivalry. She marched into the warm glowing eatery while Kon remained to pay the cabbie. Fortunately he had made sure to stock up on cash so there was plenty to spare. But would that remain true when the night was over? Something told him the answer was no.

A host had already made the necessary welcomes and was heading towards an empty table. Mizuho beckoned for him to follow and Kon hurried to comply. When they sat down, the host set out menus. "Your server will be along shortly," he supplied before departing.

Kon had a brief look around. There were several other customers in attendance, mostly couples, as well as one or two groups of friends or possibly business acquaintances. The place had paper lanterns with electric bulbs in them for lighting, and the booth they were in boasted painted screens to separate them from the guests at front and back. At the center of the dining area, a double hibachi grill was manned by two professional chefs who served the customers seated around them while performing tricks with blades and fire to the delight of all. It was a rather warm and friendly atmosphere.

"So we're clear, Kon-kun, if you pull out your phone tonight for any reason short of a loved one's death, it's going onto the hibachi. I don't appreciate being overlooked in favor of texts."

Mizuho said this while gazing steadily at the chefs plying their art. Her dinner companion was beginning to wonder if he had done something to offend her without realizing it. Maybe I should ask?

A guy in his late teens approached the table. "Welcome to Hibichi Hibachi. My name is Dan, and I will be your waiter tonight. Can I start you off with anything to drink?"

It was a sad testament to the start of this evening that a waiter's smiling face was the nicest he had seen so far. "Orange soda."

"And for the… lady?"

"Sugar cane juice. No ice. Add a slice of lime."

Nice to see she was as brusque with other strangers as she was with him. Kon noticed the waiter staring at Mizuho, but when she glared back at him, he hastily wrote down their orders on a pad. "Yes, I'll, ahhh… get right on that. Be right back. Have a look at our selection of appetizers."

He then beat a hasty retreat, leaving the mod soul on his own to flounder in unfamiliar waters that he worried were out of his depth. Mizuho hadn't looked at him once since sitting down. It dawned on Kon that she might be expecting a tad more impetus on his part. Maybe finding common ground would be a good place to start.

"So I was surprised to learn Old Lady Aonuma was your grandmother," he supplied. "It never came up before. I guess she hoodwinked you into coming on this date too."

"Yeah, she's really something." Mizuho's attention drifted around the room. A quick glance at her watch was followed by drumming her fingers on the table.

Kon shifted on the pillows beneath him to get more comfortable. This experience was not leaving a good impression. And whose fault is that, really? He spied the waiter off by the kitchen typing on a handheld. C'mon, man, hurry up with those drinks! I need something to keep my mouth occupied!

Might as well make the effort. "We were all impressed that you made it into Hokkaido U."

She flashed him a look that helped Kon realize fast that comment might be taken in a negative light. Hastily he strove to clarify. "I mean, everyone knows they're one of the elite schools in Japan! Only the best go there. Keigo was especially proud."

"Hmph!" Her eyes narrowed, and she actually turned to face him head on. "I'll bet! Get me out of the house so he can loaf around and not have to worry about picking up after himself! The place was a pigsty when I got back in. I had him clean it top to bottom and then kicked him out for the weekend. He can shack up with that gigolo friend of his while I'm here. Or sleep on the street. That'll teach him not to disrespect the home some people work hard to afford so he can get by!"

"Right." Words failed him after this heartwarming diatribe. Fortunately their drinks arrived soon afterwards. Kon accepted his and pointed out an appetizer before taking a long gulp that reduced his beverage of choice by half. To keep from losing this safety net too early in the game, he strove to follow up on the conversational headway. "I remember him mentioning that you two lived in a shared apartment. You're a great role model, looking after your little brother by yourself all those years. Does that mean your parents live somewhere else, or do you…?"

"They're divorced."

And just like that his valiant effort to keep the dialogue going died. They sat in silence for a full minute with neither exchanging a word. Mizuho focused on the chef entertainers as they heated their blades to glowing red and flipped them back and forth, paying him no mind. So far being rebuffed was not proving the helpful learning material he had envisioned. This was similar to times he had spent with Ichigo back when he was still just a stuffed doll. Zero compatibility and even less tolerance. He imagined the scowling shinigami substitute sitting across from him, and a nervous chuckle escaped Kon's lips. He shut them firmly when Mizuho leveled another threatening glower his way. Kon looked all around the room, sweating and sick to his stomach. I should go to the bathroom. Give me a chance to recoup. Or maybe just duck out a window. Call that Plan C. For now I…

He stopped, peering fixedly across the room. Is that…?

"Ishida?"

Mizuho turned to look in the same direction, then came about. "Friend of yours?"

"Uh… yeah… I think."

Hard to be certain. Acting on a voyeuristic instinct, Kon ducked down and scooted further against the wall so he was out of sight, then peered slowly around the bend to get a better look. The person sitting in a booth at the far end of the room certainly looked like Uryu Ishida. He was sporting a brown sweater with colored diamonds sewn on the front and navy slacks, but even outside of his usual business attire, it would be hard to mistake him for anyone else. Now that he concentrated, the Quincy's unusual soul signature came clear. But why would he be here of all places? Had someone asked him to check up on Kon during the date? A wingman? Only who could have told him, and why?

Only then did it dawn on Kon that there were two platters of food at the other table. Even as he thought this, someone sitting across from Ishida held out an empty glass. An attentive waiter came up to the archer's table with a pitcher of water, and the diner leaned over for him to fill it. Doing so gave Kon his third shock of the evening, as he realized the Quincy was eating with none other than Michiru Ohgawa of all people.

"Holy cow!" he breathed in awe.

"What's up?"

He returned his attention to Mizuho, who regarded him expectantly. She seemed more interested now than throughout the entire evening. The preceding revelation left him too stunned to ascribe anything to it. "I can't believe those two are here together!" he stated without trying to hide his surprise. "Are they on a date?"

She chanced another look and shrugged. "Could be. You want I should go ask?"

"What? No. I mean…" He shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it. "I'm… kind of blown away by it. I mean, the two of them… or really, just him to begin with… or her, now that you mention it… although that dance number she pulled during the cultural festival probably attracted a lot of guys' attention… still, I could have sworn he and Orihime had a thing, maybe one-sided on his end, or just…"

Kon realized his mouth was having trouble connecting with his brain and shut up. Not like there was much happening in his head to explain this turn of events. However it did not escape his attention that his own companion for the evening was smiling for the first time tonight.

"Okay, I believe it now," she affirmed with a merry grin. "You don't date much, do you?"

"Not… so you'd know it." Her meal ticket gave a helpless shrug.

"That's a surprise. You've got a job, you're pretty good looking; that counts for a lot these days." When he squirmed at this ordinary compliment she smirked and took a sip of her drink before leaning in to rest her arms on the table. "So lemme ask you something, Kon-kun. What exactly is it that you do?"

"Me?" Now that's a loaded question. Better play it straight. "I work at the Usagi Shoten. Make deliveries, run errands, that sort of thing."

"Oh, c'mon, that's just your day job. Who are you when the lights go off, hmm? What's your angle? You're clearly out of high school, but I haven't heard anything about why a guy your age isn't in college. Were you kicked out? Are you a NEET, or a ronin? Taking classes to pass the exams and get into the school of your dreams for the last five years, maybe?"

"Definitely not." His mind raced to think up a rational explanation, and to his surprise, one came. "I'm actually here on a work visa. Probably no one told you but…" And here he steeled himself, leaning forward and speaking in a low voice, causing Mizuho to reciprocate so they wouldn't be overheard. "To tell you the truth, I'm not a Japanese citizen. More like… an undocumented immigrant."

"Ooo, mysterious!" Mizuho slipped out of her jacket then and laid it off to one side. He couldn't help but notice her bare shoulders and smooth healthy skin, toned by years on the mound. The primitive fantasies and urges this evoked almost made him miss what she said next. "I could tell by your face that you're not native to these parts, but I couldn't make up my mind where you might be from. Some Japanese ancestry, to be sure. No, wait, let me guess." The lovely young woman settled back, tapping her lips in studious focus as she surveyed him from top to bottom. Kon felt himself blush at this perusal, and when she saw it his date grinned even wider. "By your hair color and build, I'm going to guess… Peruvian South American. Or California United States. Am I right?"

"Close enough."

"So what are your parents like, then? Offhand I'd say your mother was Japanese and your father foreign. Are they living here? What do they do for a living and why aren't you with them?"

Okay, here's where things become tricky. Can't let on that I was created in a laboratory by a mad scientist in the afterlife. Nobody mentioned before whether or not Mizuho was as spiritually attuned as her brother, so she might not react too well if I spilled the beans about shinigami and Hollows. Don't get too detailed. Keep the lies simple and easy to remember.

"You see, the thing is…" Play it by ear, maybe some of Dad's hereditary genius will help you get through this. "My parents separated, and I wound up living under my father's roof. Dad was a research scientist, funded by the government, and he did work for them, independent stuff. He insisted on home schooling me, actually, which is why I'm a bit of a social naïf."

"Is that right?" She looked not entirely unconvinced but still enjoying herself. To say nothing of a whole lot prettier. It felt good to have a girl interested in him. "And your mother? How did you wind up here? Does she live in these parts?"

At this Kon's face fell. Old wounds opened up so fast that he couldn't even think of a convenient half-truth. "I don't really have many memories of my mother. She left when I was still young. They kept in touch, but I never saw her afterwards." Mizuho's smile faded. Now she regarded him in an appraising manner once more, as though seeing Kon for the first time. He recognized how precarious of a position he might be in and strove to keep from saying too much. "Anyway, a few years ago, Dad got into trouble with the law."

"Unpaid taxes?" she demanded slyly.

"Impersonating a government officer, actually." That wasn't far from the truth. Maybe I can use more of what really happened? "See, he was trying to get his hands on some controversial research data, and well, Dad had a hard time recognizing where the line was drawn when it came to his work. Or that there was a line to begin with. So he wound up getting sent to prison. At this point I didn't have what you would call a home anymore or relatives that I could turn to. It looked like I might get… deported back to my place of origin for a while there. It was hands down the scariest time of my life. That is until…"

Kon stopped talking as he realized where this topic would lead. Not quite appropriate for a date, even he knew that. But the other person in this equation clearly wasn't ready to let it drop there. She leaned in and demanded, "Yeah? Go on, I'm listening."

Ah, what the heck.

"I got rescued," he said simply. "And fell in love."

Mizuho's eyebrows rose. She settled back on the cushions and crossed her arms. "Wow!"

"You said it." His mouth felt a little dry, and he took a drink. Come to think of it, that felt really nice to say out loud. I should do it more often.

The girl seemed to collect herself. "So Kon-kun, if it's not too much trouble, would you mind telling me who the lucky lady was?"

He smiled shyly. "I don't mind. It's my boss, Rukia, the manager of the Usagi Shoten."

This earned another raised eyebrow. "For real? I thought that girl was, like, fifteen or something."

"She's older than she looks," he was quick to point out. "But yeah, she's the one who stepped in and saved my life. Gave me a job so I could stay here and helped me get settled in. I've been with her ever since. It's pretty incredible when I think about it, but for the most part, that's what happened to me."

"But wait…" Here Mizuho hesitated again before proceeding. "Didn't Keigo tell me she was dating someone else?"

His tranquil happiness evaporated at this reminder. "Yeah. Ichigo. Kurosaki Ichigo."

"The delinquent? The one always getting into fights?"

"That's just on account of his hair. He's actually a… pretty great guy." Had to force that one out, but no sense speaking ill of the brain-dead. "We're best friends, or so I've been told. His little sisters are like family to me. They're the reason I have any real social skills at all."

"Well, that sounds pretty complicated."

Kon sighed. "Believe me, it is. Some outright crazy stuff has happened between us. You'd call me a liar if I told you half of it. But honestly? I'm happy it did, because as far as I'm concerned, I'm in a better situation now than a guy like me could ever have hoped for. If it wasn't for Rukia… err…" Kon caught himself before he could launch into full-throated praise. He gave a despondent chuckle. "Sorry for, you know, talking about someone else when we're on a date."

She looked kind of uncomfortable herself now. "No, it's fine. I understand. I guess we're really in the same boat, then. To be perfectly honest, Kon-kun, about tonight…"

"Mizuho-chan!"

Their heads both turned at the same time as a furious-looking young man came to stand beside their table. Flanked by three other hoods, he had narrow eyes and his most outstanding feature was that he was completely bald. That and the purple jacket he wore with a red shirt underneath caused Kon to immediately classify him as 'Eggplant'. After that he was too confused to make any further deductions.

"Oh. It's you." Mizuho made a pointed show of picking up her juice and taking a long swallow. She set it back down, a disdainful frown putting a crease between her thick eyebrows. "What do you want, Nasubi-kun?"

Kon's eyes flicked over to her in surprise. Holy crap, was the guy really named Eggplant?!

"I told you not to call me that!" Nasubi retorted. He then turned a look fairly dripping with venom on Kon, who responded with one of confusion. "What the heck is up with this now? Where'd you get this loser from, and why'd you bring him to our place?"

"I can do whatever I want," she retorted savagely. "Not like I have to take your feelings into consideration anymore. And it's not like I'm doing anything behind your back."

The youth's face paled at this. "C'mon, we're leaving!" So saying he grabbed her by the wrist.

"Don't touch me!" Mizuho yanked her arm away.

A commotion amongst the other customers drew the touchy teen's attention. Realizing that he was receiving some unpleasant looks from the staff, Nasubi crouched down and adopted a more gentle coaxing persona. "Hey, sweetheart, I'm sorry. You know what it's like when I get mad, I can't control myself! Baby, I know I said some things, and you did too. But can we just talk for a little bit in private? I promise I'll split right after and leave you alone, only hear me out, if only for a minute. Please?"

Mizuho stared fixedly at the wall for a moment. Finally with a disgusted snort she snapped, "Fine!" and scooted off the seat to stand up. "Excuse me, Kon-kun," she said before marching towards the front of the restaurant. Nasubi cast another dirty look at Kon before heading after. His friends tried their own attempts at intimidating stares and then followed suit, leaving him sitting alone.

Whispers rose all around. Kon could feel his face growing hot with humiliation. He knew they were talking about him. And considering most of them probably weren't near as stupid as he was, those folks must have already figured out what was going on long before.

Certain events had clicked together in his head. Mizuho's comment about frequenting this place with her boyfriend. The way that waiter had looked at her. The line about them being 'in the same boat'. Suddenly everything made sense.

This was all a setup.

Maybe Old Lady Aonuma was in on it, maybe not. She seemed quite disdainful of her granddaughter's taste in men. But whatever the case, Mizuho had clearly taken this opportunity to get back at Nasubi, or make him jealous at least. Their waiter had to be another buddy of his; back when Kon saw him typing out a text message, he must have been informing Nasubi that Mizuho was in their old place with another guy. Which pricked the kid's ego enough to round up his pals and come barreling down here to get her back. And that must have been precisely what she had in mind all along. I was only here as a tool, a prop, a…

Doll.

His head bent down, shaking fists clenching in his lap. Kon saw the clumsy white shoes he had on, now blurred by tears. There was an ache in his chest like somebody had come along and scooped out a chunk of flesh with an ice-cream scoop, leaving this empty void of hurt behind.

She didn't think of me as a person. Just a diversion, a plaything, keeping her entertained until lover boy could show up. Nothing Kon had been subjected to back when he was in his original stuffed animal form could compare to such a degrading experience. Being handled and tossed aside like this… nothing's changed. I'm still just a toy. Something for people to play with until a real man comes along. Like Ichigo. Or Byakuya. Worthless little pill-creature Kaizou Konpaku, fooling himself into thinking he's a man. A real man. A real man…

… wouldn't take this lying down.

Reaching out, Kon picked up his glass and carefully poured out some soda onto the table. It splashed around, but the end result was a small pool of liquid in which he could see himself staring back. That was the face of a person. Not a toy. It's your face. The one you've come to equate with yourself. You chose this, right? You wanted to be a man, but not solely for the sake of impressing Rukia. Because you knew you had it in you to be something more than a weaponized artificial soul, or a comic relief teddy bear. You're a full-blown sexy beast, with brains, a job, a heart, and a soul! Throw in some courage and you've got those losers from the Land of Oz beat hands down! So what if you started out in a test tube? Now's the time to show everybody, including yourself, that what really matters is what you choose to be! Not what anybody else says you are! They don't control the soul!

He stood up.

Control the soul.

One of the performing chefs was heating his kitchen knife 'til it glowed bright red when he heard someone right behind him say, "Pardon me, sir." Surprised, he turned around to find Kon standing in the space reserved for preparing meals. "Oi!" the cook declared indignantly. "You can't…!"

Control the soul.

In a flash the tall youth had snatched the knife from his hand. "Need to borrow this for a second." Before the shocked eyes of the other patrons, he brought that flaming hot edge up to his scalp.

Control the soul.

A smell of burning hair filled the air.

"C'mon, Mizuho-chan, honey," Nasubi wheedled while standing in the entryway of the restaurant. He bent down in front of her with his hands clasped in a penitent's pose. "I'm sorry, okay? I swear I'd never do anything to hurt you, on my honor. Just say we can be together again. There really is nobody else for me but you."

The object of his entreaties maintained a cold scowl with hands on her hips. Yet when he reached up and slid an arm around her shoulders, she merely glanced down at it before giving a short, "Hmph!" turning her head away in haughty pique. "Didn't you notice I'm already with somebody? You've got some nerve expecting me to leave that poor guy dangling for a two-timer like you."

Noting the pronounced lack of violence on Mizuho's part, her would-be suitor eagerly sought to press his advantage, when a new voice broke in.

"Excuse me."

They all looked over; Mizuho, Nasubi, and his three compatriots. The sight of Kon walking towards them was nothing special. However the difference in his appearance took some time to register, finally sinking in only when he stood tall right in front of them.

"Oh!" Mizuho gasped, one hand flying to her mouth in surprise, dislodging her ex's arm in the process.

She could hardly believe it, for there was Kon dressed in that same dyslexic ensemble she remembered. Only now his head was shaved down to the skin without a trace of stubble showing. The cleared space gleamed pink and shiny as a newborn baby, and the follicle fetishist felt her heartbeat pound at this unexpected show of supreme willingness to please. Did he do that for me?

Kon looked between them. "The lady's with me tonight," he spoke in an easygoing manner. "So I'd appreciate if you and your friends left us alone."

All the pandering charm fled from Nasubi's face in an instant. He leveled a hateful glare up at the taller boy. "You got any idea how much trouble you're asking for, pal?" His posse drew up behind him to emphasize this threat.

"I think I've got a pretty good handle on things now, actually," Kon responded back with a small smile that in no way touched his pale blue eyes. "And come the morning you two crazy kids are free to patch things up however you like. That's entirely for Mizuho-chan to decide." He then looked directly at her, and now it was the elder Asano's turn to blush. "But until then, I believe I'd like to enjoy this charming lady's company for as long as possible."

His rival's face had also gone red, but with anger. "Man," he breathed softly, "you really wanna get hurt so bad, then just step outside, and I will beat your fucking foreign face in."

"A real hero when you've got three guys to back you up, huh?" Kon smirked. Before Nasubi could retort, he held out one hand to indicate the exit. "By all means, lead the way, Eggplant. I'm game."

For a second the kid glanced back at his cohorts, as if to assure himself they hadn't vanished in the last few seconds. Then without another word he turned and stomped outside with the goon squad in hot pursuit.

"Kon-kun," Mizuho reached up a hand to touch his jacket as he moved to follow. When he paused and looked at her, she tried to keep her voice level. "You don't have to fight. I'm not going anywhere with him, and he's too much of a chicken to do anything inside where the police might get called. Just let him cool off out there and decide to go home so we can finish our dinner."

Kon's eyes lit up. "Oh, right! Dinner!" he snapped his fingers. "They'll probably be bringing out the snacks soon. Would you mind waiting back at the table, Mizuho-chan? That way they won't think we cut and ran or anything."

She watched him with real concern now. This guy didn't seem worried in the slightest at the prospect of getting kicked around by four toughs. Was there something he knew that she didn't? Her eyes drifted up to his smooth shiny pate, and Mizuho had to force some fantasies down. This is serious!

"Trust me," Kon spoke assuredly before she could reply. "It'll be alright."

Something about the way he said this served to untwist the knot that had been developing in her stomach. After a lingering look at his smiling confident face, she gave a slow nod, turned back to go, then spun about, kissed him briefly on the cheek and made for their table at a stiff-legged trot.

Kon breathed deeply, enjoying the shuddering rush of pleasure traveling up his spine. He rolled his neck around to loosen it up and proceeded outside.

"I was starting to think you'd run awa–"

This sentence was never finished.

Back in the restaurant, some patrons cast nervous looks around, wondering if they should call the police. Or maybe even an ambulance. For her part Mizuho forced herself to sit down. She felt twitchy and restless, and for a moment the only thing that made sense was to rush out there and just rip into that faithless jerk and his ridiculous pals, tear him a new one and send them packing.

"Umm, pardon me, senpai? Is anything… bad happening?"

When Mizuho looked over it was to find the bespectacled boy and his short girlfriend whom Kon had been scoping out before now standing by her table. The little thing twisted from one foot to another with an expression of intense worry that gave her the appearance of a lost preschooler. Glasses McGee adjusted his spectacles before saying, "Asano-senpai, we haven't been introduced. I'm…"

"I'm back!"

They all gave a start as Kon plopped down across from her, grinning foolishly. "Aw, man!" he proclaimed in disappointment. "I thought our food would have arrived by now."

"Wha…!" Mizuho gaped at him, amazed. She glanced over to the door and saw nothing of interest. Rounding back, the young woman said, "You were only gone for thirty seconds!"

"Really? Felt longer." He took a sip of soda and smiled at her.

"Kon-san." The geeky-looking guy seemed to be sweating a little. "You didn't… go overboard, did you?"

To this Kaizou Konpakku simply laughed. "C'mon, Ishida, you know me! I wouldn't kill a fly, right?"

'That doesn't necessarily preclude ripping their wings off,' the Quincy thought to himself. Aloud he settled for, "I suppose not." With that the slender teen gave a slight nod which Kon reciprocated. Mizuho was too surprised to notice. Ishida took his bewildered date by the shoulder and guided her back to their table, where dessert was being served.

Mizuho felt she'd had enough mystery for one evening. "Alright, what the heck happened out there?" she demanded.

"They had to go." He shrugged with a most innocent expression. "Very reasonable fellas once I explained things. It didn't take long for them to realize they had better places to be." So saying, the shaven-headed hero picked up a drink menu that had stood untouched between the condiments. "Now, I seem to recall you mentioning the desire for something a little stronger than sugar cane tonight. Shall we settle on more serious libations?" From his pocket he pulled out a wallet with his photo ID displayed through a window. "Like two mature adults?"

The playful way he spoke combined with that eminently touchable bare scalp had Mizuho's fingers itching with the desire to rub her fingers over his smooth enticing head. This urge hit a brick wall at the memory of what led up to it. He didn't appear to be hurt in any way whether emotionally or physically. Nevertheless, Mizuho resolved to make up for any bad behavior Kon might have experienced tonight as a result of her admitted selfishness.

With that in mind, she opened up her purse to withdraw a billfold of her own. "What do you say I pay for the drinks while you pony up the dough for our meal? 'Cause I've got a feeling that you'll be the richer for it after tonight."

She shot him a meaningful look, and in return, Kon grinned hugely.

---

The door shut in front of him, and Tōshirō reaffirmed the protective enchantments meant to keep anyone else from entering. For a while he stood there resting a hand against the wood, half-convinced he could feel the warmth of his own spell beneath his fingertips. But in truth it was as cold and unresponsive as the silent figure held securely behind it.

I'll be back later, Momo.

After making this silent promise the youngest captain in Soul Society's history turned and made his way down the corridor of his division headquarters. This entire area was reserved for the First Seat of Leopard Company. He had safety measures installed on several of the rooms hereabouts, just to keep anyone who might wander in from focusing on that spot in particular. Momo Hinamori was counted among the dead during the Autumn War. It wouldn't do to have people wondering what her statue was doing in a place like this. What might they think of me if anyone found out?

No doubt it would be dismissed as a tribute to a long-lost comrade.

That's a charitable interpretation.

True. They might in fact accuse you of being a pervert who keeps icons of dead women about his quarters for personal gratification.

And right there is why I don't ask your opinion very often, Hyōrinmaru.

One of us feels the lack of that greatly.

"Begging your pardon, Captain Hitsugaya."

Tōshirō returned from his internal argument to find the Fifth Seat of Leopard waiting at the intersection leading back to his office. Her name was Ryuko Ryohime, a lady known for having been transferred through nearly all 13 divisions of the old Court Guard Squads. Not owing to any misconduct on her part, but just because she liked to see how the other half lived. Right now she carried a sheaf of documents and an expression that reminded him uncomfortably of Nanao Ise in her frostier moments.

Not so cold when the lights go out, eh?

Shut up! I'm trying very hard not to remember anything about… whatever happened that night!

Another failing on your part.

He forcibly withdrew from this conversation. "Yes, Ryohime-san?"

"Ryu-ryo," the shinigami corrected him in what had become almost a running gag for them by now. She held out the binder. "These are completed and awaiting your approval."

"Thank you." Her commanding officer accepted the paperwork, but before he could even glance through them, a certain devious smirk his subordinate now wore drew his attention like a premonition of danger. "Is there something else?"

"Yes, sir," Ryu-ryo supplied. "There's a visitor waiting to see you. He does not have an appointment."

Hitsugaya's shoulders sagged. Oh no, not again.

The boy warrior dismissed Ryuko with a nod. Stiffening his spine, he marched the rest of the way to his office and authoritatively flung open the door.

Noboru Kuchiki looked up from rifling through his desk drawers. "Do you seriously not have any porn hidden away in here?" he demanded. "I'm disappointed in you, Blanquito."

The disrespectful nickname was only one reason to resent this kid's company. For all that he had been raised in a jungle among monkeys in the human world, Noboru got little sympathy from Hitsugaya and even less welcome. They were diametrically opposed in every area except height (a point he would have to clarify at some stage in the future, just to head off any derisive use of the phrase 'Shorty'). Having been introduced after his parents' wedding, their relationship got off to a bad start when the first thing the young nobleman had asked him was whether he had helped Captain Odelschvank 'clean off' following her performance that day. His flaming red cheeks were interpreted as a yes, and Noboru never let it go. Fortunately he remained in the dark about what really transpired between Tōshirō and Neliel (one more thing we have in common).

Try having a discussion with his soul cutter. You have never met anyone more divorced from maturity.

Noboru went lazily marching around the desk one way while Hitsugaya came in the other direction and plopped down behind it. He immediately set about getting started on work without bothering to acknowledge his uninvited guest.

"Must be nice to be in charge," Noboru opined with both hands laced behind his head. "Barking orders, groping female officers, sending men off to die. Yeah, that's the way to live." In a comically gruff and loud voice he then bellowed, "You get in that hole and fight the Hollow right now, soldier! And if your head gets bitten off we'll pull you out by your boot heels!"

"Your theatrics are much appreciated," the captain pronounced snippily.

Not to mention stomach-churning.

"Thanks! So what are you and my Dad up to, anyway?" the barefooted soul inquired as he proceeded to inspect the furnishings. "Word is you're getting some kind of training from him. Is this like a master and pupil thing? Is he teaching you how to be a better shinigami?"

Very good question, Tōshirō thought as he stamped and signed mechanically. It isn't like training with Byakuya has allowed me to reach some new level of recognizable power. Although without it, I might not have survived the fight against the Espada Halibel in Hueco Mundo. So what am I getting out of this, really?

'Let me go, Captain. You need me out there, to see and do the things your honorable new Gotei 7 won't.'

The memory of Rangiku's face and voice made him shiver with conflicting emotions. "Can I help you with anything, Your Highness?" he snapped while verifying a sabbatical form.

"Well, that all depends." The Monkey Prince left off pacing about the office and rounded on him with a crafty grin. "What are your feelings on dating older women?"

Tōshirō froze. He KNOWS!

Cool it.

The prince failed to notice the captain's narrow brush with guilty revelation. "I've asked around about you, Blanquito. Everyone says you had one of the hottest ladies in the afterlife at your beck and call for years. I met her, and believe me when I say congratulations to you, player! All that at your disposal? Nice!" He thumped his chest with one fist and pointed suggestively at the icy prodigy, who steadfastly ignored him in favor of more busywork.

"But back to my point: it's never too soon to look for that special someone. Sure, you're a little young…"

"Look who's talking!" Tōshirō snarled.

"… but that's not necessarily a bad thing. For instance, let's use my aunt as an example."

"Eh?" the First Seat lifted his snowy head, blinking. "Rukia-san? What about her?"

"Absolutely! I mean, you don't have to be a genius to spy you two have a lot in common. You're both high-ranking shinigami, each with an ice zanpakutō, roughly the same age give or take fifty years, about the same height although Baa-san might have gained a few inches on you recently…"

That last one stung like icy water. "What are you getting at, monkey?"

"I think the two of you should go on a date together!"

When Tōshirō only stared, Noboru launched into his sales pitch. "See, Baa-san spends a lot of time in the mortal realm, and with my folks getting hitched, it would do her good to stick around here some more, give her a chance to get the lay of the land and how things have changed as a result. We can use the two of you together as an excuse for that. And this way the Winter Wunderkind has the opportunity to fraternize with a member of the opposite sex who isn't in awe of his superior rank. You'll be with an attractive older lady, that's how you like 'em, right? And it's not like you're seeing anyone."

The temperature in the room plummeted during this speech. While Noboru was talking Hitsugaya Tōshirō was on his feet with both hands planted on his desk and a dangerously high kidō incantation halfway out of his mouth.

"I mean, you spend a lot of time at Kuchiki Manor as it is…"

A bad bout of PTSD from his ordeals studying under Byakuya Kuchiki's perfect example caused the captain to freeze up before he could utter a single syllable. Memories of mind-numbing meditation and long droning lectures caused sweat to pour from every inch of his skin.

Noboru prattled on without noticing. "… and if you two find you like one another more than you thought, we can wait out the age difference before you get married. Then you'd get to be a part of the Kuchiki clan! You'd be one of us!"

Inside Tōshirō's mind he saw a grey dawn on a barren colorless plain where all the Kuchiki, Rukia included, stood in single file rows before the figure of Byakuya Kuchiki as they chanted cultish praise to his unearthly perfection. He could see himself in there standing next to his new bride and fellow devotee. All color leached from his body, and the look of horror at this predicament gradually faded away to stone-faced bliss, after which he began to mouth the hymns in turn. You are one of us now, Hitsugaya Tōshirō. One-of-us. One-of-us.

Fortunately right then there came a rap on the door and Lieutenant Shuhei poked his head in. "Forgive the intrusion, Taichou, but a messenger from the Lord-Commander just came. He's requesting his son return to Kuchiki Manor immediately."

"Shoot. Rain check, okay, amigo? We'll continue this later. Think about what I said!"

Noboru left the room so fast it scattered stacks of papers up into the air. This simple bit of ruckus served to jolt the boy captain out of his apocalyptic daydreams, and he and his one-armed lieutenant strove to catch the paperwork before they could get hopelessly jumbled.

Look on the bright side. At least he made no suggestion that you take on both Lieutenant Kuchiki and Captain Kotetsu at the same time.

Hyōrinmaru, as I live and breathe…

Technically you do neither.

When ice started forming on the walls, Hisagi wisely chose to bolt before frostbite could cost him any more body parts.

---

Within a clutch of broken rock crevices, Grimmjow surveyed the remains of his band. The sight of them did nothing to improve his mood. He had lost a third of his men by the looks of it. That spoke poorly, both to their weakness and his leadership skills. Insurrections had started over less.

As if reading his mind, Ein Vogel chose this moment to speak up. "Five."

The panther adjuchas looked at him along with everyone else. In response he lifted his hairless hollow-cheeked head slightly and spoke in a dreary tone.

"You said we should not bother appearing without killing any of the shinigami. I slew five. Pray tell, how many did you dispatch, Grimmjow-sama?"

Jaguerjaques stared back at him with his chin resting in one hand. It was a statement of fact that he had never liked Vogel from their time working under Aizen. The guy was one of those holier-than-thou prissy Hollows who enjoyed prancing about Las Noches and sipping tea like the shinigami just a little too much. The kind that treated Aizen as though he were a god descended from heaven to lift them to a new plane of existence. Were it not for his extraordinary power and demonstrated usefulness, Vogel would have fast become food for this crew rather than a member.

"I merely ask because–"

"Did'ja remember to introduce yourself to them first, Vogel? Let them do the same?" Grimmjow interrupted him. A very unfriendly smile stretched his mouth to display a well-honed set of teeth. "I hope you said a prayer for each and every one of their souls and asked for forgiveness."

Ein's heavy-lidded eyes did not flicker in the slightest. Nevertheless his displeasure at such mockery was evident. There was nothing pompous self-important pricks like him hated more than being interrupted. They thought the only reason other people talked was to give them a chance to catch their breath. In addition this callback to shinigami battle etiquette had done its work. The other Hollows carefully watching the confrontation chuckled, and just like that it was clear who the alpha was in this pack.

Grimmjow waited for the spindly sorcerer to open his mouth in an effort to renew his verbal challenge, and then loudly rolled right over him. "Somebody gimme a status update!"

Out of the corner of his eye he smirked as Ein clicked his big teeth shut in thwarted outrage. Being drowned out was something he had never quite learned to overcome.

It was Tezima who spoke up now. "We lost Loly and Menoly somewhere along the way. They might have been killed, I couldn't tell."

"I saw them burrow into the ground once the battle started," the bulky round Albion Diega asserted. His pudgy face was furrowed, lips curling with deep distaste. "They abandoned us."

"Three died fighting those two masked hybrid females," another said.

For a while they spoke out, naming the lost or unaccounted for. Through it all Jaguerjaques sat there swishing his tail through the sand restlessly. He appeared to be thinking about something. Not once had he resealed Pantera since their encounter. Some considered this a testament to the fear the Masked Army inspired in him, such that he did not wish to be caught unawares. Others had their own opinions which they kept to themselves. Tezima was one of the latter.

After a bit Grimmjow spit off to one side. "That's it," the Sexta announced. "I'm sick of those bastards hounding me morning, noon and night. High time we did something about it."

"We know where they make camp," Ein pointed out, ringed staff draped casually against his shoulder. "Are you suggesting a direct assault, Grimmjow-sama? Such a tactic may prove catastrophic for both sides."

"You don't say." Jaguerjaques turned a truly demented grin on his cohort, who gazed fixedly back. The Hollow shaman's posture remained loose but the silent wariness in his face told of a readiness to defend himself at a moment's notice. The others withdrew until they had made a cleared space around the challenger in anticipation of bloodletting.

Instead their leader surprised them all by saying, "I think you've got a point there, pal. Which is why we're not gonna do it. Instead, maybe we should just pass this off to somebody who can really hit 'em where it hurts."

He hopped up and pointed at Ein and Albion. "C'mon, you two. We're taking a trip."

---

With a splash, the goldfish wrestled through the paper pad and dropped back into the tub where it swam merrily with its fellows. "Tough luck, Kurosaki-bozu!" the vendor boomed merrily. "Maybe 15th time's the charm?"

Ichigo felt his temper start to boil thinking how much money he had lost. As if waiting for this moment, the memory of Rukia's palms sliding over his back arose like a soothing balm. All anger dissolved, and he stood up, handing over the broken catcher. "No, thanks," he smiled. "I'm good."

The old guy peered at him warily, as though suspicious of this uncharacteristic cheerful benevolence on Ichigo's part. In turn he just waved thanks and moved to drift off among the stalls.

It was late in the evening, and they had been here for hours. Little kids toddled everywhere with their parents; some of the younger ones were crying at all the pandemonium, no doubt upset at being stuffed into the tiny uncomfortable kimono. Shichi-go-san was a popular and lively time for Karakura. This might be due to the declining birthrate; folks wanted a reminder that there would be a new generation to carry on the community. Yuzu insisted they attend every year even if none of them were officially the right age to celebrate, much less children. She got a kick out of festivals.

And for the first time in a long time, so did he.

The lights were brighter, the kimono more colorful, the smells more appetizing. They had attended a drum performance, a manzai show and even a purification ritual. Later there were fireworks scheduled. This reminded him of Rukia's back arching as she threw her head skyward, that long strand of hair before her eyes flying, the glow of the bonfire in the distance reflecting off her sweat-drenched skin. He had crushed her against his chest in an embrace so hard it felt like she was soaking into him, feeling every ragged breath, each shuddering spasm that jolted through her. And she gave as good as she got.

"Ichi-nii, we're gonna leave you behind if you're not careful!"

"Okay!"

He waved back at Yuzu, who dashed ahead to join Karin and their father. Dad was engaged in his usual pastime of flinging rings at soda bottles without any success. The sight made him grin. It shouldn't be that hard. Just slide them back on, the same way he and Rukia had donned their clothes afterwards and rejoined their friends at the party. They talked and laughed, but even when the press parted them, he would catch sight of her chatting with folks. She looked breathtaking. Mesmerizing. It made him dizzy.

So lost in the memory was he that Ichigo bumped right into a guy standing in front of him. "Excuse me," he strove to excuse his fault.

The fellow turned, and Ichigo found himself staring up at a steep angle into a kappa mask with a shaggy black wig. Holding this imposing figure's arm was a lady wearing one of those eerie Noh masks, all pale skin and small dead eyes. She reached up to lay a restraining hand on her date's arm before he could take any offense at his intrusion on their space.

At this her boyfriend hesitated before nodding and indicating for Ichigo to continue. He did so, passing them by without even considering a fight. Nice to see two people together. Why mess it up trying to prove who was more manly? This way felt better. Maybe I should try it more often?

That one time was their first and only time so far. Rukia had been busy with both her jobs and he concentrated on schoolwork to keep his mind off her absence. Of course Misato-sensei chewed him out for daydreaming during lectures once or twice since. It was just so easy to drift off into pleasant fantasies now. His Hollow hadn't made any problems in the interim, which was something else to be thankful for. It just seemed like there was so much to be thankful for, really. Simple things he never considered until now. The color of mailbox flags. The sound of a train tracks alarm going off. The way his satchel clicked when he closed it up after class. Even taking blows in kendo club. Sensei had remarked on this to him, apparently worried that he seemed to be enjoying getting hit. That made him laugh all over again.

Ahead Karin was accepting a large stuffed toy before passing it off to a delighted Yuzu. Beside them their father looked utterly crestfallen at having his daughter show him up at the ring toss once more, almost as bad as the vendor losing one of his most expensive prizes. Their elder brother enjoyed this sight as he stopped to inspect a stall selling masks. There were sentai rangers, fox spirits, oni, and magical girls to choose from. Some children excitedly pointed these out to their parents as they went by. Most of the adults led their charges on without pause. So many hooks were still occupied he felt bad for the guy. I should buy one to help lighten his inventory. An artist should be appreciated, and they really were fine work. But which to choose from?

As he considered his options, one of the masks looked back at him.

-Ichigo Kurosaki-

He gave a start upon hearing his name spoken. That carved face returned his stare. Its mouth moved, and a guttural, bubbling voice came out.

-The Sexta Espada requests a meeting. Come to the place where he first drew your blood.-

As it spoke, blood poured from its lips. The eyes rolled up in their sockets and whatever power animating the mask disappeared.

"Something wrong, kid?"

Sweating, he turned to the stall's proprietor. The vendor regarded him like a potential shoplifter. It was obvious none of what just happened had registered with him or anyone else nearby. That only made it all the more creepy.

"I'll take the Jovian lizard alien," was all he said.

The artist gave a satisfied grunt and retrieved the item in question. Upon paying Ichigo straightened up and blew out his breath. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a small tube capped by a plastic puppy head. One press of a button later and a gikkongan pill popped into his mouth, launching him from his body in full shinigami paraphernalia. He turned to regard the fake soul that now resembled him. "Don't let my sisters out of your sight, got it? Send word if there's trouble."

Fake-Ichigo saluted with a determined air. "I am here to kick ass and chew bubblegum… and I'm all out of bubblegum!" He then clapped the mask to his face and sped off to pursue his mission. More than a few people threw looks his way that indicated they suspected a moron might be present. Not for the first time Ichigo wondered who exactly developed the whacky personalities for all these soul pills.

But there was no time to waste. He had a job to do. A moment later the substitute shinigami leapt skyward and vanished into the night.

Over by a roast corn booth, the kappa and the female Noh from before glanced at one another. They then moved swiftly through the crowd, which parted to let them by. While doing so the woman pulled a phone from her robes. "Hizuki? Bring the car."

---

Night had fallen in full by the time he reached his destination. Ichigo examined the surroundings with one hand never far from Zangetsu's hilt. This was the neighborhood where Chad lived, the place where he and Grimmjow first did battle. Rukia nearly died here on account of that maniac. And to be perfectly frank, so did I.

All that was true. However there was no sign of the Espada's presence whatsoever. He looked all around the area, peering into shadows and bushes. Whether occult or not, nothing came back to indicate any Hollows.

"Since when are you into hiding, Grimmjow?" Ichigo called out. "I thought you wanted to talk!"

He had assumed for sure that would work. But the only sound was the wind through the trees and what might be a cat knocking over some trash cans in the distance.

Am I in the right place?

This is the site of your battle with him.

So where is he? Crap! What if this was all a trick?! Maybe they're after my family! I've got to get back and…!

Your father is with them. He would allow no harm to come to your sisters. Perhaps you are simply not thinking this through well enough. Before you go charging off, consider the words of the message.

Huh? Well, our first fight took place here, right? No, wait… it said where he 'first drew my blood.' And that would be…

Slowly his eyes drifted up to the cloud-filled sky.

Oh. Right.

The substitute shinigami then left the bonds of the earth, floating up beyond gravity's pull far into the heavens. Looking down, he saw the lights of Karakura twinkling below him.

Looking up, he saw Grimmjow lounging on his side in thin air.

The arrancar rubbed at a spot behind his neck. "Took ya long enough to figure it out," he grunted. "I was beginning to think I might have to slap you around again to make you understand."

"What the hell do you want, Grimmjow?" Ichigo demanded in turn.

His avowed enemy didn't respond right away. Instead he actually rotated 90 degrees until he was standing upside down, at which point he began to prowl lazily around with hands stuffed into his pockets. Kurosaki followed him with his eyes. He looked much the same as Ichigo remembered; even still wore that white uniform marking him as an Espada. Renji had indicated Grimmjow didn't consider himself a member of Aizen's army anymore. If so retaining this wardrobe might be yet another middle finger in his old boss' direction. Even were that true, though, it didn't lessen the threat he represented one bit.

At last the were-panther stopped to face him head-on, though still inverted. "You bring anybody else with you?"

"No. Didn't think I needed to. I already proved I can kick your ass."

"Guess that leaves you just one down, then," Jaguerjaques sneered, only to frown a moment later. "I ask because two of my boys are below. If you brought any backup, they might kick up a row. And I'd rather not have that happen 'til I've said what I came here to say."

"Then spit it out already." There was sweat soaking the bindings of his sword. Ichigo strove not to think about how much danger he might really be in. Truth be told he had never triumphed against Grimmjow without the use of his Hollow powers. Given recent events with his inner Hollow, the question of whether he could rely upon it in a fight remained open. Best not let the Espada in on that bit of information.

"You always did have more guts than brains." A slow smile worked its way up that psychopathic face, looking like a grimace in his current position. His blue eyes narrowed 'til they gleamed like stars. "Your wild side threw me for a loop recently, or didn't he tell you about that? I got the impression you two weren't playing nice as usual. Trouble with the missus, maybe?" When Ichigo's jaw clenched in return, Grimmjow's smile grew even wider. "Thought as much."

"Grimmj–!"

"But that ain't why I'm here."

About to launch himself at the heartless maniac come what may, Kurosaki paused.

His foe straightened up, appraising the human fighter from down his nose. "Well, somebody's got better control of himself. Kinda disappointed to see that." He then shook his head. "Whatever. I called you here because your buddies the Vaizard have been making issues for me lately, and I want it to stop."

"Why not ask them yourself?" he shot back sarcastically. "I'm sure they'd be more than happy to listen to anything you say, after they pay you back for what happened to Hachi."

"See, that's the thing right there." Grimmjow sauntered forward until he stood only a few steps away. Ichigo tensed at this close proximity, but not once did the high-rank Hollow's hands ever leave his pockets, to say nothing of going for the soul cutter sheathed at his hip. "I ain't got a fuckin' clue why those cock-gobblers all have such a hard-on for me. And who the hell is Hachi supposed to be, anyway?"

"The guy you killed after getting chased out of Soul Society! Hachigen Ushōda, one of the Vaizard!"

Grimmjow stared right back without saying a word.

When nothing else took place between them, Ichigo added, "He was a big fat guy. Pink… moustache, with maybe a beard…" His inability to remember faces almost left him in a panic right then, which was frankly embarrassing considering the situation. "He wore a green suit… or could've been blue come to think of it, I'm not sure, but anyway…"

"I didn't kill him."

Silence hung heavy in the air between them. Clouds drifted by, and the wind passed through their forms without so much as ruffling a hair. Face to upside-down face, they watched one another.

"What?" Kurosaki finally demanded.

Jaguerjaques shrugged. "Not that I'm saying I wouldn't. Snuffing any of those chumps sounds like a real treat. Food's been kinda scarce these days. And if I had, you can bet your ass that I would take full credit for it and accept any consequences with a smile." There was no such thing on his face when he spoke next. "But the fact of the matter is I didn't kill any of that crew. And I'm sick and tired of them chasing me around howling for my head when I haven't even done what they're accusing me of."

Grimmjow took a step forward then, hunching down a bit and looking at Ichigo with an unpleasant smirk reminiscent of Ichimaru. "So how's about you ask me the obvious question, then?"

Ichigo didn't want to. At that moment his instincts were howling at him to draw his sword and lapse into the only thing this guy understood: violence. But for some reason, he found himself thinking about Rukia again. Why now, of all times?

"If not you, who did?" he finally asked.

"A Vaizard."

Ichigo jerked as though struck. "That's bullshit!" he shouted angrily back.

Grimmjow squatted down with arms draped over his knees. "Not sure which of them it was, really. With the masks on it's hard for me to tell those jokers apart. But definitely a Vaizard. And they've been helping Aizen out ever since. Sickin' the Wild Hunt on you clowns, and helping me break into that lab in Soul Society where I fought the real you." The demon wore a truly wicked grin now that showed how much he was enjoying this. "You know I'm telling the truth. It explains a lot, doesn't it?"

Ichigo glared at him while thoughts whirled through his brain. Wild Hunt? He remembered Nanao mentioning that earlier. The details escaped him. But more importantly, this couldn't possibly be true. He felt certain Grimmjow was lying, or at least not telling the whole truth. The Vaizard were family to one another! They'd been practically the only people they could count on for 100 years while being hunted by Soul Society. The idea that one of them might be a traitor was nuts. How could they possibly keep it hidden that long without anyone noticing? Like Kira had, and Momo, Renji and…

Coldness clutched him from head to toe. For a moment Kurosaki clearly remembered the smiling features of a witch wreathed in smoke while Rukia lay unconscious to one side. That was certainly one face he could never forget. Byakuya explained everything to him later.

'She is one of my seeds…'

The spell. The one that took their memories away. Unohana removed it during the Autumn War for all of her agents. That's when they remembered, and attacked. What if the same thing was done to one of the Vaizard and left inert for 100 years? So while they were waiting in Hueco Mundo for the Hollows to return, this traitor suddenly got their memories back. And they might have said or did something that made Hachi suspicious, so they just killed him, thinking that Aizen was going to win and it didn't matter.

But then the Hollows showed up empty-handed, and he realized he had screwed up. There was no turning back now. He killed one of their own. The only way to stay safe was to blame Grimmjow. That makes sense, right? And what about my Hollow? What if this Vaizard is the one responsible for him getting out recently? He might have done something to me while I was training with them. And why am I thinking it's a guy? Maybe it was one of the girls. But which one? Which one?

Fireworks went off in the distance, lighting up the sky and filling the air with terrific explosions. It drew their attention briefly, so that for a while nothing more passed between them.

Kurosaki sucked in a shuddering breath. "You don't really expect me to believe any of this, do you?"

Grimmjow looked about to speak, but before he could, an explosion came from below. They both peered down in surprise.

---

Kappa and Noh mask got out of the car. "Wait here," she told the driver before heading down the street together.

It was difficult moving considering the sheer amount of spiritual power in this area. Why nobody else had shown up yet was an issue that demanded explanation. However she had left off calling anyone to report this. If Ichigo hadn't already, there might be a good reason for refusing to get others involved. This was what they had agreed upon. Precautions were in place just in case that proved to be a mistake.

The kappa lifted his demonic turtle face skyward. "He's above us. They both are."

"We've got more immediate concerns," his companion pointed out. Sure enough, two white garbed creatures had emerged from hiding. One of them looked sort of like an old-time wandering monk holding a ceremonial shakujō staff. The other was shaped like a beach ball with a tiny head and more conditioner in his hair than a super model. Both of them had mask remnants. They were most certainly not human.

"What brings you here this fine evening, little lost souls?" the skeletal priest rasped softly, regarding the pair through lowered lashes.

Noh mask touched the kappa's arm lightly in what might have been a signal. He nodded reassuringly, then took a step forward. "If you're not here to hunt, I don't see why we should fight."

The Hollows exchanged glances. Fatso spoke up then. "What business is it of yours what we do, human?"

That indented dome looked him up and down. "Are you an Espada? Or maybe a Privaron?"

The robed priest leaned on his staff and studied them more intently without speaking. But his partner bristled, long arms extending out from his hulking body in preparation for combat. "A mere human has no right to question my rank. Know that you are addressing Albion Diega, once a proud recruit in the armies of our Lord Aizen, the King of Hueco Mundo."

"Albion… Diega?"

Kappa sounded confused, and now it was his turn to glance at his ally questioningly. She offered a shrug back in return. After pondering for a while, the large man spoke. "Is… that your real name?"

Diega blinked, flabby face screwing up in confusion. "Why do you ask?"

There was something almost embarrassed about the way the kappa spoke next. "Do you speak Spanish, by any chance?"

"Spirits recognize all languages!" he retorted hotly. "We are not so easily confounded by foreign tongues as you simplistic human feedbags!"

"But… you don't really… understand it, do you?"

It was clear this line of talk was only making the big Hollow angrier. "What are you implying, dirty little creature?"

"Nothing really." The kappa then lowered his head a tad. "Meatball," he added under his breath.

In response Albion's body split open like the petals of a flower to reveal a twisted hungry maw made of scarlet flesh. Just as fast the kappa's arms were encased by liquid armor that solidified into a violet shield-arm and a bone-white spiked battle gauntlet. The priest raised his staff before him to begin chanting. A circle of blue fireballs immediately came into view at his back, each one housing a different kanji in its center.

Before a fight could break out, Noh mask stepped between them. She reached out to grip the kappa's wrist.

"Stop," was all she said.

Albion looked around the empty street in confusion. He could not remember in the slightest what had caused him to call up Estómago. There were no enemies present that he could detect whether visibly or through his pesquisa. That shinigami halfbreed was still looming in the heavens along with Grimmjow, but other than them…

And what the hell was wrong with Vogel?

He gazed at his colleague, who was down on his knees with hands clasped before him. "Mighty Aizen!" the white-robed acolyte sobbed. "I humbly beseech your understanding! It was not my intent to join forces with the traitor Grimmjow, t'was naught but an alliance of convenience! I abase myself before you. Praise to your name! Only grant me your mercy, and I swear, from this day forth there shall be no need to question my loyalty to you or our cause!"

Refolding himself, Diega regarded the prostrate Hollow in confusion. Who was Vogel talking to? He looked at the spot in question and saw nothing.

Right then a creature resembling a kappa appeared in midair before him. Before Albion could react the mythical beast brought his white fist slamming down into the back of the Hollow's head, driving him face-first into concrete. There came a dull boom, and the whole street rocked. Around him appeared a great indentation that resembled a skull impressed within it.

The giant water sprite straightened up from his fallen foe. He took note of the fearful one still fawning over whatever illusion his counterpart had conjured. With one of them out and the other enchanted, he relaxed and allowed his gauntlets to dissipate. Kappa returned to where Noh mask waited silently. "Should we stay and help?"

She shook her head. "You got this guy and the other is a coward at heart. He'd never step in to help if those two start fighting. Let's move before they spot us." When he seemed unconvinced, she added, "Or you could come home and have dinner with my parents."

That musclebound form shuddered. When Noh mask turned to depart he dutifully took up step beside her. Moments later they had left the scene without a trace.

"What the hell happened here?"

Vogel looked around. Lord Aizen had disappeared. Instead Grimmjow floated a few feet off frowning down at him with the human Kurosaki Ichigo nearby. To his left Albion lay senseless on the street. Dismayed at this turn of events, Vogel turned back to Grimmjow, eyes wide with distress. "I… don't know!" he protested.

The flat contempt on the other Hollow's features cut worse than any blade. Before he could frame further explanations Grimmjow flew over and hoisted the senseless Diega up by his collar. The pack boss threw a look over at Kurosaki. "Have fun sorting that out." Moments later a Garganta appeared and he led the way inside, his astonished underling following without protest. Ichigo made no move to prevent this, and the portal to Hueco Mundo closed behind them.

Alone, the youth looked all around. Fireworks still went off in the distance. For a while he watched them ascend to color the darkened heavens in bursts of green, orange and red. The sight reminded him of a small group of colorful misfits who had welcomed him into their ranks.

It can't be true.

Something told him there would be no enjoyment to be found the rest of the evening. With no explanations for anything that might have transpired tonight, Ichigo decided against rejoining his family.

More than anything, he wished Rukia could be here right now.

---

The attendants finished and backed away a respectful distance. Her maidservant Sayoko held up a rounded mirror, allowing Rukia to appraise her appearance in it.

A pair of teardrop-shaped pearl earrings swung with every move she made. The fall of her shoulder-length hair was combed up at the back. Atop her head gleamed a small crown made of white gold and alabaster. A light dusting of pale blue mascara accentuated her eyelids. Sparing but tasteful. One would expect no less from Kuchiki-trained hands. At a slight nod, the servants accepted their mistress' silent approval. Sayoko settled the mirror on its stand before her, after which she and the other attendants removed themselves from the chamber.

For a while the Lady of the Kuchiki remained seated in that spot. While outwardly composed, there was no peace to be found in her heart. Too many changes were happening all at once. There was little doubt her life would never be the same from here on out. The choices presented before her stood poised to rend apart the peace they had worked so hard to achieve.

She looked at her image in the mirror once more. Could that be what everyone else sees?

I must do what is best. For as many as I can.

She came to her feet. Dark plum covered robes adorned her frame; the cloth seeming to shimmer ever so faintly with a purple sheen. Its sleeves hung near the floor. Beneath this was a fiery orange kaftan whose open breast revealed more layers of cloth, white as the moon. Swathed in all this finery, Rukia marveled at how light it felt. Were her eyes closed she might have thought herself wearing nothing more substantial than a yutaka. It truly was a marvel what could be wrought when you loved your work. But now it was time to go.

Eyes lowered, hands tucked into her sleeves, she made her way forward. The doors slid open. Upon entering the hallway she found her entourage crouched in waiting. As she passed they rose to follow respectfully behind. The young noblewoman let none of the turmoil she felt show. Her journey to the gates of the manor passed without incident. There she found row upon row of guardsmen standing at attention by a richly appointed palanquin. Beside this stood her brother Byakuya. Their eyes met. For a moment she could swear there was grief evident in the way he held himself. Reproach. Not directed at her, but at himself. As though Nii-sama felt he had done wrong by her once again.

It had taken a significant show of strength to explain everything to Byakuya, made even more torturous at the realization that she had no real explanation to give. None of this made sense. Not what he told her, nor what she told him. Hard to say which hurt Byakuya more. The knowledge that she had brought distress to her cherished elder brother offered Rukia such anguish.

"I have done what I could," he had said to her. "But I am far from done."

No more was said upon the topic. She knew what he meant. Byakuya Kuchiki would continue to fight on her behalf, with every law and rule available to his disposal. If that failed, she suspected he might go even further, heedless of the loss in prestige or honor it would entail. For her part Rukia had resolved to head him off should he countenance throwing away his pride for her sake. Today might actually serve to work out in her benefit. Use one source of pain to subsume another. Kill poison with poison.

Don't think of it that way.

You're right. I'm sorry.

Bless me, you haven't changed a bit, have you? Always looking for a way to bring yourself down. If I didn't love you so there wouldn't be anything for us to talk about.

It's a heavy burden you labor under, my dear friend.

True. But you're worth it, sweetheart.

The reassurance offered by Sode no Shirayuki lifted her spirits. She found herself almost eager to continue now. I am not just a piece in this game, to be moved about the board at will. I have some surprises of my own in store.

She nodded to her brother in silent understanding. He looked at her for so long Rukia felt sure he was going to say something. In the end, though, Byakuya simply reached up and removed the white scarf at his throat. With great care he then draped it around her own, tying the rich fabric securely. Rukia allowed him to do this in silence, well aware what it signified. His protection would be with her always.

No more words passed between them. She took her place within the palanquin. The bearers lifted their precious burden smoothly and began a swift steady trot from that place. While it might be against the rules, Rukia permitted herself to look back. Byakuya did not move an inch until she was out of sight.

It took under an hour to reach their destination. The walled compound they approached was enormous, with metal gates emblazoned by a pair of fearsome demon reliefs on either side. Their bulging eyes seemed to watch her approach while gaping sharp-toothed mouths demanded what right she had to be here.

The right of a sacrifice, maybe. Or a challenger. It remained to be seen what she was.

Red walls loomed two hundred feet high from one end of the street to another. As the Kuchiki entourage drew forward, the twin portals groaned slowly open, allowing them to enter without pause. So there would be no question of making her wait or demanding proof of identity? That came as a relief. Her small retinue of guards and servants passed into a tunnel while the gates swung shut behind them with a resounding boom. The sound sent a shiver up Rukia's spine, but she did not permit herself to flinch. I am the first Kuchiki to enter these lands in generations. I must not do our name a disservice.

With that, they entered the main grounds of the Arashi.

There was no greenery to be seen through the curtains. Cobblestones swept off in every direction. Buildings with red-tiled peaked roofs boasting carved pillars were in great evidence. Huge statues of ornately carved beasts chiseled from red and green jade were spaced at intervals like the lines of a spider's web along the thoroughfare they walked, all leading to the center of this impressive complex. There like a solitary mountain amidst this colorful grandeur there stood the temple-palace itself. Rising tier upon tier into the sky, Arashi Castle was made of dark red material, both painted wood and solid stone in a pyramid of ascending tiled roofs with gargoyles upon every corner. There seemed to be no inch of the structure that did not have some manner of carving impressed upon it. It loomed over ten stories high, and at its peak a spire glowed green like a lighthouse. The whole thing stood as a testament to art and craftsmanship. Used as she was to the simple elegance of Kuchiki landscaping, Rukia remembered now how humbling it had been to first enter a royal estate, where every blade of grass appeared carefully maintained to add to the subtle grandeur of nobility.

This castle stood at the center of a tremendous amount of land in the Court of Pure Souls. Behind the warding walls which now encircled her, even such a mammoth structure could not be seen from outside. She had only laid eyes upon the Arashi stronghold once in all her years living here, and that was when she was brought out of confinement on the day of her impending execution. After Ichimaru had his fun with her, she was led away to the Sokyoku Hill, and during that trip to the highest point in the whole region, Rukia briefly glimpsed this solitary castle far off to the west.

'Tiger to the West. Dragon to the East. Turtle to the North. Firebird to the South. Four directions mark the Four Great Houses. At the Center was the Dragon of Earth, who is no more, such that now only stand the Gotei 13 to take his place and protect in the name of the King.'

This catechism had been taught to her after gaining noble status. According to legend, Dragon and Tiger were supposed to be enemies. But that was not so in real life. Although assuredly the Dragon of Earth and the Tiger had come into conflict ere the end. Perhaps there was some merit to the old stories? If I join this household, I might actually learn more about that ancient enmity. And perhaps the one between my clan and his as well.

There were no people visible as the royal procession made its way across the field of stone. Not a single person appeared in evidence, until at last they stood before the doors of Arashi Castle. The bearers settled Rukia's palanquin to the ground. She stepped out, feeling a harsh wind brush against her almost immediately. The sky overhead had turned a foreboding slate gray on the way here. Not for the first time she felt thankful for having this many layers of clothing. Some cold went bone-deep regardless of any affinity for the element, and the oppressive pallor that hung over this place certainly left her chilled.

Before she had taken more than two steps the castle doors slid apart. A young man in a brown vest and flowing pantaloons emerged and slid almost at once to his knees before her. He bowed until his head touched the flagstones.

"O Noble Lady," he greeted her. "I bid you welcome to our home in the name of Lord Katsurou Arashi. Blessings upon your line and fortune to your endeavors. Please accept the hospitality of this house for as long as you are here."

Rukia's handmaiden Sayoko came forward to offer appropriate response. "On behalf of Her Ladyship, I accept your generous welcome. We give ourselves freely into your custody. May the blessings of divine fortune be yours from this day onward."

The man found his feet once more. Addressing Sayoko, he dipped his head. "Should your staff wish to avail themselves of this house's munificence, we will see to it. In the meantime I shall guide Her Ladyship to where Lord Arashi awaits. Please follow me." He bowed aside with one arm extended, indicating they may proceed. Rukia did so, entering the palace proper. There was no turning back now.

Though lit by many candles, the hall she found herself in still seemed dark. Every glowing wick took on the appearance of a star against the empty black sky. Yet some measure of detail could be discerned as she stepped deeper into the tiger's lair. At the far end of this long hall, a huge metal statue of a masked demon loomed over all. With one leg raised as though dancing, it held weapons in each of four arms, and its horned head managed to reflect eagerness at the prospect of battle. She remembered the Arashi had a reputation for military prowess. Warrior-monks, her tutors named them. Though nowadays their power did not often go on display. No member of this house had held rank in the Gotei 13 or its successor in over 500 years. Something told her that absence had not dulled their capabilities when it came to combat.

A few servants came forward to attend to her retinue as she passed. With their guide in the lead and accompanied only by Sayoko, Lady Kuchiki departed with just a slight trace of anxiety as to her followers' wellbeing. It was highly unlikely the Arashi had allowed them to enter their lands with ill intentions. This was only meant to be a formal meeting between the two parties. A way to allow them to size one another up, as it were. Nothing official had been decided yet. This was merely the first stage of her own participation. The heads of the household, in her case Byakuya, had managed proceedings up 'til now. Since matters had reached a tipping point, there was no other choice but to follow as custom dictated and allow the relevant parties to officially meet.

How hard Nii-sama must have fought to prevent this from happening. All the more disturbing to know he failed.

Their path led down hallways whose walls seemed to have soaked up the smoke from generations of candles. After only a short time, though, they came to the end where a small door was evident. At her approach it slid open to reveal an elevator. Rukia was familiar with such devices from her stay in the mortal realm. However she could not recall ever seeing one in Soul Society. The R&D Bureau used… different methods. Although she knew modern advances had long caught up with such technology, the ornate complexities of this apparatus still enthralled her as she entered that snug cubicle. Sayoko and their guide came in afterwards, and he shut the door. Upon pulling a lever the elevator began to ascend smoothly. Light came pouring in through the gated grille as they passed each successive floor. She counted twelve such intervals before at last they came to a stop. The doors opened, and they emerged to continue their journey.

Twists and turns followed. Were she not so cautious, the determined maiden may have feared becoming lost. But it would not do to submit blithely into her host's clutches. While I know my place as a Kuchiki, I am still a shinigami. I must be strong.

Do you feel him?

I have since before we set foot inside. The master of the realm is close now.

Moments later, she found herself facing a screen painted with a snarling tiger descending the side of a mountain in readiness to pounce. Across from it a large bird like a crane was just beginning to take flight from a bamboo-ringed pool.

The implications of this imagery were not lost upon her, and as the frame parted, Rukia got her first glimpse of Lord Katsurou Arashi.

He sat on a small dais, enveloped in dark crimson robes that spread around him. His iron grey hair was kept in a braid that fell down one shoulder to pool in his lap. Both arms were tucked into his sleeves. This was as much as she got before lowering her eyes demurely. Katsurou remained still as she entered the room. Every step towards him felt like pushing against a wall. When do I stop? Judging the distance, the Kuchiki princess finally took her seat before one of the most powerful men in the afterlife. Behind her the door shut. Sayoko and their guide would remain outside. Other than that, they were alone.

"You are welcome in my home, Lady Kuchiki."

At last she lifted her eyes to gaze upon him squarely. "I am honored by your summons, Lord Arashi." There was much to see, and she tried to note it all. For starters, the chamber they were in did not seem to be the throne room. Too small, with a balcony off to one side open to the world. A large painted screen of a tiger dominated the wall behind Katsurou. A second look allowed her to better judge the man himself. He appeared to be of middle age; not young, but certainly still strong. There were lines to either side of his mouth framed by a short beard. His eyes were black, reminding her of a bird of prey. Rather handsome, she was forced to admit, although clearly many centuries her senior. Those aristocratic features were compelling, made all the more so by a palpable aura of danger. The noble tiger in his den…

"We are to be wed."

The words were spoken with such simple matter-of-factness it felt as though he had negated any alternatives. The first cut was his.

"I understand your entreaties with my honored elder brother have proceeded apace," she responded with careful neutrality.

Katsurou cocked his head without a change in expression. "He cares for you deeply."

She could think of nothing to say back to this, so instead Rukia bowed forward in a sign of submission to the statement while waiting for him to speak.

"At first this did not seem to be the case," he said after a while. "For fifty years the only reports I heard concerning you told of a pronounced lack of interaction. Your paths hardly crossed in all that time, and when they did, he treated you with a level of disdain worthy of a criminal. So very like the Kuchiki."

A deep chill passed through her at these words, paralleling as they did her own thoughts for many decades. But an urge to defend Byakuya's actions compelled Rukia to speak again. "My brother is oft misunderstood," she noted with a touch of steel. "It in no way impedes his rule of our family, and I have come to terms with my own misinterpretation of his character."

Translation: Watch what you say about my Nii-sama, Tiger Lord.

"Ah…"

Upon looking at him again, Rukia Kuchiki was astonished to find a faint smile on Katsurou Arashi's face.

"I see that whatever misgivings the world may have concerning Byakuya Kuchiki, the devotion of his sister does not waver." He gave a slow, meaningful inclination of his head. "Your spirit is commendable."

"Your Grace is too kind," she gave back, a touch nonplussed. Had she actually said something to please him?

"My own sister treated me with similar ardor."

Katsurou looked away from her toward the open balcony. His elevated position offered him a slightly better view of the surroundings, and he contemplated this for a while before resuming.

"The devotion of a younger sibling… there is little I have found that can be depended upon more assuredly. We hold such a position of prominence in their eyes." The smile was gone from his face as though it had never been. "It makes us careless at times. We sometimes forget they might find fault with our behavior which we take for granted. Words can be spoken between us that are ill-conceived, and with the passage of time, such misgivings can cause a rift to form. It is only when we reach for that longstanding support and find it no longer there do we stop to consider how much harm we might have caused all unawares."

With interminable slowness his eyes rotated around to lock on her, making Rukia shiver.

"To lose one's younger sister is to be proven unworthy of her," he stated, and there was no disguising the bitter rancor in his tone.

So that's it.

I didn't know if he would admit to it so openly. But now one thing is very clear. This marriage proposal is Arashi's assault against the Kuchiki, my brother in particular. He is trying to take away something he believes Byakuya cherishes above all. How unusual to find such a level of openness.

Well, if he's being so straightforward, I shouldn't be afraid to do the same.

Coolly Rukia met his gaze. "My Lord Arashi," she spoke with aloof cordiality worthy of a born noblewoman. "Regarding your proposal of marriage so generously extended to this humble soul, it is with the utmost assurance that I must tell you it can never be."

He turned back to regard her directly. "Oh? Do you trust your cherished young Lord Kuchiki will find some means to thwart our impending engagement?"

"Sadly, Byakuya-nii-sama can do nothing beyond what I myself have already brought down upon this intended union. Though he no doubt sought to keep me from experiencing any undue distress over the matter, I must inform you with true regret that in my unforgiveable ignorance, I am no longer fit to be your bride."

It felt odd to tell a perfect stranger this, but who knows? Maybe it'll make things easier when it counts.

"Lord Arashi," Rukia said with every bit of dignity at her disposal, "I am carrying another man's child."

Game. Set. Match. Load up the palanquin, and send me packing.

"I am aware."

What?

She stared at him with such confusion Rukia could have sworn there was an actual question mark floating over her head. For his part, Katsurou looked like a man who held all the answers. "This explains your choosing to remain in a gigai. Still it in no way alters my intent," he spoke in a somewhat less frosty tone. "You remain a suitable candidate for marriage regardless of what society might have to say on the matter. Within these walls my word is the only law that counts. Should I say you are fit to be my consort, there is no authority that can gainsay me, even the King of Heaven himself. In this matter I am above any reproach except my own. And I do declare that your current state does not hinder in the slightest my intention to marry you."

With growing horror, Rukia realized that her proverbial quiver was empty, leaving her weaponless in the face of a powerful enemy.

"Why not?" she said suddenly.

At this Katsurou blinked. Her question seemed to have caught him off guard for a moment, it being direct and quite brief. "Are you… intimating this to be a disagreeable assessment of your position?"

Rukia brought a sleeve to her mouth and coughed, glancing away to recover her bearing. "Forgive me, my lord," she strove to assert some control of herself and the situation. "I merely find it hard to countenance how such a thing would meet with your approval."

This formal explanation appeared to make him more assured in responding. "As with so many marriages in the Seireitei, ours serves to placate those who fear a potential end to the ruling line. I am in need of an heir. The fact that you are pregnant serves to allay a great many fears on that score."

Dark blue eyes drifted back to him, narrowing as they did. "By this do you mean… I pass the fecundity test?"

A single eyebrow arched itself to great height on that aristocratic face. "One of us does, to be sure."

Even with all the noble training between them, she felt certain they were both trying not to laugh at this stage.

Katsurou's features grew composed once more. "I am well aware of the treatment you received at the hands of the Kuchiki for so many years. Rest assured that upon joining my clan, you and your child shall be accepted without reservation as members of this household, and accorded all due honors and respect. Should you so wish, I shall adopt your unborn babe as my legally attested heir. Any future progeny between us will serve to continue the bloodline, but rulership of the clan will pass to your firstborn."

This pronouncement took her by surprise. For a moment Rukia experienced the strangest sensation. It was as though she had planned out her child's future without a second thought. He (or she) would rule one of the most powerful clans in the Seireitei. It could be done. As he said, Katsurou's control of his family was near absolute. If he decreed it, there would be no question of obeying. A fierce sense of motherly ambition seized upon her, so strong it made Rukia's body grow heated. My child could wield unassailable power…

Dial it back there, Empress. The kid's not even born yet. And aren't you forgetting Ichigo?

Just his name got her back on track. Having calmed down, she settled both hands in her lap. "Your Grace is most generous. I confess this solution had not occurred to me before now."

The Tiger Lord nodded. "It is not uncommon for adoptees to be welcomed into a clan as a means of ensuring the line of leadership remains unbroken, as you yourself serve to demonstrate. Or, if this is not to your liking, I would be willing for the infant to be given into the care of its father, thereby being removed from the intrigues of the court. On this matter I will defer to your wishes, Lady Rukia Kuchiki."

He's leaving the choice to me? My baby could grow up without ever knowing me. Her heart ached at this prospect.

In doing so, however, it brought some much-needed clarity, permitting Rukia to realize she sat in the presence of a person skilled at detecting and exploiting other people's weaknesses. It wasn't new in her experience. Yoruichi of a certain could ply you to her side without ever giving anything away in return. Then, too, there was Ichimaru Gin, who possessed almost pathological insight on how best to disarm and unnerve his prey. Were it not for those two I might just accept whatever he says at face value.

"I am touched by the confidence you place in my judgement, Lord Arashi." Especially when you have nothing to lose by doing so. Just eliminating one more obstacle on the way to getting what you really want. "The respect you have shown goes a long way towards easing any misgivings that might have existed regarding this proposal. Some would view this as an excessive concession on your part."

A slight smirk was his answer. "They would be mistaken. Allowing a mother to determine the wellbeing of her child is nothing compared to letting a potential assassin enter my presence while she is armed."

He KNEW?!

Rukia was so taken aback she actually reached a hand up to her head. When Katsurou's penetrating black eyes followed this movement, her mistake became evident. At the same time any attempt at subterfuge was obviously insufficient.

"A Shihoin trick, if I am not mistaken," he stated in a pedantic manner. His gaze lingered on the white crown which the Kuchiki princess wore. "While adjusting the size of one's zanpakutō is necessary for high-powered shinigami, adapting its form at the same time requires no small amount of discipline. And to something so dissimilar to its natural shape as well. I see your talent has not been exaggerated, Lieutenant Kuchiki." There was clear amusement in his tone. "Nor are you the guileless trophy princess some might paint you as."

"I… meant no offense," she offered, disturbed and uncertain as to what might happen next. Strictly speaking, I could be arrested right now. Is that what he had in mind from the start? Am I to become his prisoner in a more literal sense than I anticipated?

Instead of calling for the guards to clap her in irons, Katsurou's arm emerged from his capacious sleeve and extended out to her. Doing so revealed a smooth stump that terminated halfway up the forearm. "I have heard tell of your partner's unsurpassed beauty, my lady. If it would not be considered amiss, will you consent to displaying this much? As a token of goodwill."

The smile he wore now might have been intended to soothe and reassure. Instead it reminded her of a fox about to pounce. Still, at this stage there was little to be gained by further dissembling. Unable to refuse, Rukia reached up and removed her headdress. She held it out in both hands like an offering between them. The white crown's image wavered, and a moment later a soul cutter in its scabbard settled into view.

Rukia grasped the hilt, never letting her attention drift off the Arashi lord. He reciprocated with arms tucked back into his sleeves.

"Dance," she spoke clearly as the blade slid forth. "Sode no Shirayuki!"

With a tingling of bells and a swish like skimming over fresh snow, the zanpakutō transformed into a pure white saber from which flowed a long ribbon of silk pale as moonlight. She held this masterpiece out for him to peruse.

Katsurou remained in his seat. From there he studied the revealed sword with great care. His focus caused a blush to rise in her cheeks.

Will you stop? It's bad enough with him staring at me like that. I feel naked!

Just stay calm. I have you.

At last the head of the Arashi left off his inspection. Regarding her once more, his face had grown thoughtful. That sense of having all subterfuge stripped away remained in full force. Whatever brief companionship might have existed between them seemed very distant at this moment.

"I must agree. The most beautiful indeed. It suits you."

Feeling more confused than ever, she resealed and disguised the weapon once more before settling it back in its original position. "Your Grace is kind."

"Rumor has it this weapon disposed of the renegade captain Ichimaru Gin and his Shinsō during the Autumn War. A most telling accomplishment, that."

"We disposed of no one, my lord," she replied softly. "I do not treat death lightly."

At this Katsurou gave an ironic smile. "We have that in common." He then made a sign. The door slid open at her back. Recognizing the end of their parlay, she stood upright and bowed to him. Lord Arashi acknowledged her gesture with one of his own.

"It has been most worthwhile gaining your acquaintance, Lady Kuchiki. I look forward to our next encounter."

---

Kon looked over his shoulder. "If you feel like you're gonna barf, let me know."

"Oh, shut up," Mizuho groused. She then gave a defeated sigh and rested her head against his back. "Can't believe you drank that much! It's inhuman."

"I held back," he teased. "Wouldn't want to max out your credit card."

The girl snorted and reached up to rub his bare scalp once more. She'd asked permission before doing so the first time back at the restaurant, actually squealing in delight. The experience was almost as fulfilling for him. Lots of loud happy talk and laughter followed while they finished their meals. Both opened up to each other quite a bit more than either might have intended. She loved the beach but hated to swim for fear of sharks. He got a thrill out of riding on trains. She confessed to being a fan of the Buffalos baseball team despite their history. He watched the Olympics solely for female gymnastics. She had lost her virginity at the age of 16. He remained unplumbed. Some of the other patrons started giving them funny looks. When a waiter brought their check without being asked, the message was clear. They had overstayed their welcome.

Upon leaving Mizuho adamantly refused to hail a taxi, declaring that the walk home would serve to sober them up. Carrying her on his back like this was Kon's suggestion after she nearly staggered into a telephone pole. The prospect of rubbing his smooth dome along the way appeared to seal the deal for her. Having some very nice legs wrapped around him which he could then hold onto more than made up for any cranial molestations on her part. Although if she starts treating me like a lollipop, I might have to call it quits.

"Sure you're not taking the long way around?" Mizuho asked while drumming her fingers on his crown.

"Don't worry, I won't get lost." Escorting her brother Keigo home on guard detail meant he knew where all of Ichigo's friends lived. Pretty convenient.

"I only ask because my granny's pooch walks faster than this, and he's 112 in dog years."

Her teasing brought out the competitive streak in him. "Oh, you want to go faster! Sure thing!"

His pace quickened. Kon heard her suck in a deep breath and take a firm grip around his neck. It made him grin. Maybe it was the alcohol buzz finally kicking in, but right now he really felt like having some fun. With that the racing fiend gave himself full stride. Houses began to pass by at a tremendous pace. Mizuho gave another gasp but said nothing. Turning down one street, then another, Kon laughed as he zipped unerringly along the darkened streets.

A garden wall rose where the road ended at an intersection up ahead. Despite this he didn't slow down, barreling straight towards it. "Kon-kun?" he heard her ask with a note of panic. "Better hit the brakes, there's a…"

He let out all the stops, blasting towards the brick blockade…

"KON!"

… and jumped.

They came down a fair distance away, skidding to a halt in an empty lot. Mizuho scrambled off so fast it nearly sent her sprawling. "You jerk!" she gasped in amazement. When he turned wearing a self-satisfied grin, she kicked him in the shin, causing Kon to laugh. This only served to rile her up even more. Lips pressed together so hard they disappeared, eyes going wide with speechless rage, she began to stalk him furiously while he hopped away on his injured leg.

The mod soul chortled as he sought to escape from her obvious killing intent. Even mad as hell with her face all twisted like that, she's still pretty cute. Must be the booze. "I thought you wanted to get home quick!" he gasped in merriment, then pointed across the street. Sure enough, there was her apartment building.

Upon realizing this Mizuho halted her chase, blinking in surprise. "Seriously?" she proclaimed. "I thought we wouldn't get there for at least another twenty minutes." She turned a marveling look on Kon, all trace of anger forgotten. "How fast can you move?"

"It's not how fast you go. It's knowing the right way to get there." He bowed down low and looked up with a pleased expression.

His good humor proved infectious. Eventually Mizuho let out a laugh and sauntered on by him, dragging a finger over his bald pate as she did in a wickedly languorous manner. For his part Kon enjoyed the sight of her walking away in his bent-over position. After a bit he remembered chivalry and moved to escort her the rest of the way home.

A few minutes later saw them standing in front of Asano's apartment. Rather than opening it the feisty teen crossed her arms behind her back and leaned against the door, sliding down a little ways. "So much for sober," she lamented.

"You're probably gonna regret it in the morning," he chided half-jokingly.

"Mmmm." Mizuho smiled, closing her eyes and tilting her head back until her ponytail scrunched against the wood. "I might regret a lot of things come the morning," she mumbled happily.

"I could recommend a hangover cure if you're worried."

"Not what I meant." She peaked at him from below her lashes, never losing that sultry smile.

Is she flirting with me? Kon was momentarily uncertain what came next. He felt a warmness running through his chest and limbs. The night air drifted cool on his skin. And a very attractive girl was standing in front of him, looking pretty darn approachable.

"So how 'bout it, Kon-kun?" Mizuho tapped a finger against the door behind her. "Want to come inside?"

"In… inside?" he squeaked.

"Better make up your mind before I change mine." A gentle quality stole over her face then, causing Mizuho to look almost shy. But at the same time very, very sexy.

"Do you want to sleep with me, Kon?" she asked softly.

His mouth fell open.

A girl wants to have sex with me.

For a while it felt like his brain went on pause. And then it made up for this by ratcheting into high gear. Kon debated with himself.

I could have sex.

Isn't that what you want?

No. I mean, yeah! Sure! Who doesn't, right?

So what's the problem?

Problem? There's no problem! She asked me. All I have to do is say yes.

Then do it.

I could. I could… have sex! For real! Everything! Breasts and legs and skin and lips! No magazines or porno tapes or trying to get a peep. None of that junk made me feel this way. I've never been so turned on in my LIFE! And she is super hot! We're talking SEX!

Sure looks that way. Are you going to do it?

You bet I am! Just watch me!

Oh. Okay. Go ahead.

What?

Nothing.

Nothing what?

Oh, just thinking about… Rukia.

She… she's with Ichigo. Not like we're dating. I'm not cheating on her or anything, I'd never do that.

Sure, sure. All that's true. You're not in a relationship.

Right.

And you're no monk or a vestal virgin, y'know? Having sex isn't against the law.

Right. It's just… sex.

Yeah. You got it. Just sex. Just sex and nothing more. Not like you're in love with each other.

No. We're not.

And even so, that sure doesn't make it wrong. People have sex for different reasons, not all of them good. But this right here is a real good reason, son. She likes you. You like her. Neither of you are seeing anyone. You're both mature adults. She made the first move, and in a way that doesn't have any other interpretations. Only an idiot would turn it down. Just look at her. What kind of man would say no to all that?

What kind?

Yeah. For real.

The kind of man… who's in love with someone else.

Are you this much in love? In case you haven't noticed, your pants are at high noon. And that's a whole lot of woman right there. She's probably crazy in bed too. You gonna turn her down? Just because you might feel guilty later on? Or so you can brag about how faithful you are afterwards? Really think Rukia would be impressed to hear that while she's shacking up with Ichigo?

It's not about him. And honestly, I'm not sure if it's about her either. This is about me. My choice. Control the soul.

Control the soul, huh? Guess that means you really have one.

I guess so.

Kon came back around. Before him Mizuho was waiting expectantly. Indecision hit hard at the sight of her. What am I doing? I might never get another chance like this! Any guy would kill to be in my position! For several roaring heartbeats the only thing that made any possible sense was to step forward and accept the amazing reward he had earned!

Instead he found himself speaking.

"I want to."

She cocked her head in curious fashion.

"Really, I do. Man, do I want to be with you tonight, Mizuho-chan." She blushed when he used her name. It made him swallow down a whole lot of lust before he could speak next. "Only… some things are too important to make excuses for. You just have to tell yourself that even if it doesn't hurt anyone, and you'd never regret doing it no matter what… you've gotta remember what really counts."

Mizuho stared at him for a while like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Then with a groan, she bonked her head back against the wood.

"Figures I get the only guy on earth who can stay faithful to his not-girlfriend." The young woman heaved a sigh before looking back at him. "You know you're consigning me to my vibrator, right? It's actually pretty rude getting me this worked up and not finishing the job."

He gave an embarrassed shrug. "Sorry?"

"It's okay. Just know I'll be thinking of you the whole time."

All the blood drained from his face, and he actually swayed dizzily at the thought, grasping the wall for support. At this Mizuho chuckled. Pulling out her keys, she opened the door and stepped inside. A flick of a light switch, and that very attractive dame turned back. Holding onto the frame, she looked him up and down. "Damn," Mizuho Asano heaved a sigh. "Goodnight, Kon-kun."

"Goodnight," he whispered back.

One last look passed between them before Mizuho slipped into the apartment. The door closed with a final click.

The last thing he wanted to do was hang around here. It would look like he might have changed his mind. Yet in spite of this Kon stared mournfully at the occupied apartment for a while longer. He did not feel victorious in any way, shape or form. This just seemed like a heaven-sent golden opportunity tailor-made by the gods.

And I let it go.

Never knew being a man could feel this rotten.

Kon stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. Feeling weighed down like never before, he shuffled along the corridor 'til he reached the stairs on the side of the building. One hop and he dropped eight stories, landing on his feet to continue walking glumly along with nary a pause. The night was still young. But right now, all the despondent suitor wanted was to go home, plop into bed, and hope tomorrow had something better to offer.

Better than what I just gave up? Kinda hard to believe.

Well, at least I know what kind of man I really am.

Yeah. The kind whose life sucks.

---

"HE DID WHAT?!"

"Noboru…" his mother spoke warningly. "This is not something you can control, alright? It's between them, and we're going to have to find a way to support their decision, whatever that might be."

Beside her, Byakuya found himself envying his son's ability to express this level of rage. They had met him in his spacious living quarters to break the news. He took careful note of certain expensive and beautiful furnishings around the room that could easily be smashed in a fit of pique. No sense making a bad situation any worse.

Hopefully he doesn't share your tendency to use lethal force at the slightest provocation.

I beg your pardon? This is hardly what I would call 'slight'.

Meanwhile the boy stomped from side to side like a wild animal penned in a cage. "Don't give me that crap, Mom! This is exactly what people have ninja for!" He then stopped pacing, inhaled and screamed aloud at the top of his lungs. "FEEEEEEEEEEENG!"

Byakuya's head whipped around as from out of nowhere, thirty Stealth Forces agents led by Soifon herself materialized in the room with knees bent and heads lowered in submission.

"BRING ME HIS HEAD!" Noboru shrieked.

The captain of Viper Company pressed a fist to her heart in solemn obedience. Without a word she and her platoon of assassins simply vanished like ghosts, leaving Byakuya mystified as to whether they even knew whom they were being sent to dispatch.

Knowing her, it makes no difference.

Yoruichi swore. "Soifon, you get back here right now!" A blur of movement later and the Flash Goddess disappeared in pursuit of that deadly host. This left father and son alone. Both looked at one another.

"Pa… O-tō-san," Noboru said softly. His body was shaking with the effort to contain himself. "Tell me we're going to do something. We can't…" His eyes closed, and two tears ran down his cheeks. When they opened again those gold-ringed gray orbs were ablaze. "We can't let him get away with this!"

Slowly the lord of the afterlife knelt before his son. He then silently held out his arms. Noboru sped forward to accept the embrace. Both of them held on for all they were worth. He could feel the boy's sobs, and that ache from before when Rukia first confessed to him came back full force. I never believed things would turn out like this. It's like when she was put on trial all over again. How can I be so powerless to stop this?

Remember that things worked out in the end.

Yes. But this time, I am not the only one feeling pain. So I must find something to say for the sake of my son.

"Noboru," He stroked the back of his head in an effort to console him. "I know you love your aunt deeply. She is a blessing in my life as well. I am grateful for every day we have shared." The memory of Hisana's final moments, her peaceful smile and the promise he made, came surging back full force despite all the years between them. "Now it is time for us to show how much we appreciate that. So when she returns, do not let her see your grief. For Rukia's sake we must not allow our own feelings to become a burden upon her. This is the way of the Kuchiki. We protect the most important of things. Be proud of her as I am. With every breath, feel pride for your Aunt Rukia, who must shoulder a responsibility unlike any you and I have ever known. We must not fail her, now or ever. I am counting on you to be the one who supports Rukia when I cannot."

"Papa!" Noboru gasped. "I want… to be strong for Baa-san!" His teeth ground audibly. "But I'm so angry! I just want to smash in his stupid ugly face so she never has to see it again!"

This boy truly is your son.

So he is.

"You must find a different way to express those feelings." Byakuya sought to offer reassurance without letting on just how closely this sentiment mirrored his own.

They drew apart. Noboru wiped his eyes with the palm of one hand, trembling from the outburst. Eventually he looked up at his stone-faced parent. "Like how?"

"Art has been a great source of comfort to me for many years now." Hisana's influence, to be sure. Yet another reason to cherish their brief time together.

Noboru considered this for a moment. "I already made a flipbook of him. Look, I'll show you."

He then produced a small thick booklet from his trousers that fit snugly in the palm of his hand. "Okay, so here's the first page, right?" Opening it revealed a surprisingly lifelike portrait sketch of a certain shinigami substitute. "Now, if we flip it…"

The eager artist proceeded to do so. Before Byakuya's eyes, the image gradually changed, becoming more brutish, with a swollen brow, protruding jaw, flapping ears, and mean little peepers. As the process continued the human's nose grew bulbous. Horns sprouted on his forehead. He began to go bald on top little by little. Tusks emerged from his thick fishy lips, along with hairy warts in the oddest places. He drooled uncontrollably. The final picture had him jamming one finger up his right nostril down to the hairy knuckle, in the process poking a sunken red-rimmed eye practically out of its socket.

Byakuya stared.

Quite a talented child you have there.

Fighting to remain calm while on the inside he was bursting with laughter, the Lord of the Kuchiki asked, "May I see that again?"

---

An escort from Siamese Company met Ichigo upon his entry to Hueco Mundo. They had been notified of his arrival and were dispatched by Neliel to guide him to the spot in question. Having never been there, he appreciated an escort. The world of the Hollows was an unwelcome place at the best of times. He did not want to get lost here.

The journey took over an hour. By the time he reached their destination, Ichigo was glad for the cloaks they had provided to stay warm. A shelf of rock the size of his high school rose before them. Its face was split by a cleft that led back about a hundred feet. These cramped confines forced them to walk in single file down the crevice. He reflected on how this arrangement negated any advantage of numbers if a large force were to assault the compound. The decision to station themselves here was a smart one. You could hold off an army. But was it done with a force of Hollows in mind, or maybe shinigami?

At last they reached the end of the cleft where a tunnel gaped open. Lounging against the side of the cave there awaited Shinji Hirako.

"Hello there, Ichigo-kun," the gangly goof lifted a hand in greeting. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I need to talk to all of you."

This earned him a raised eyebrow. After a while Shinji shrugged and turned back into the cave, beckoning for him to follow. Kurosaki nodded in reassurance to the half-dozen shinigami who accompanied him before proceeding into that black hole.

Lights stationed at regular intervals illuminated the path. Shinji looked back at one point as if to ask why Ichigo chose not to walk up front with him. When no response came back he proceeded on his way. At last they came out into an open area. A fire burned in a pit, the smoke drifting up to pass through air vents in the ceiling high overhead. Here the Vaizard commander blew a high whistle through his buck teeth. He then sat down in a circle of seven stones around the fire. One for each of the remaining Masked Army.

After a while they all came out to join them. Ichigo noticed the change immediately. For one thing it was too quiet. None of them spoke to one another, merely exchanging looks or nods. He recalled how Renji confided in him that the Vaizard had gone downhill since the Autumn War. Those eight souls only had one another to truly depend on for over a century. Hachi's murder had hit hard. While all battle-hardened veterans, there did exist one difference between them and other death gods: they were part Hollow. As a result their grief was magnified, along with rage, recrimination, and obsession. Perhaps he alone could truly understand what this close-knit group had to deal with every day of their existence. The maddening urges, the bitter suspicions, the fear of losing out to those dread compunctions ordinary people had no trouble keeping in check. When one became a Vaizard, it meant you lost all certainty of yourself.

Love Aikawa and Lisa Yadomaru sat next to one another, the light reflecting in their glasses to hide their eyes. Mashiro Kuna stuck close to her old captain Muguruma Kensei, while Rose Otoribashi made a show of bowing politely to Hiyori Sarugaki as she stomped over and plopped down next to him. This trademark rudeness earned only a self-deprecating smile as the flaxen-haired hybrid brushed the locks falling over his face.

Ichigo observed the Vaizard. They were like a circle of little islands, all in the same deep dark ocean but still separated from one another. He hadn't truly believed Grimmjow's words before. Only observing them now, pale and restless as wild beasts in a zoo, did the accusation seem more believable. They looked like hell.

"Haven't seen you for a while, kiddo," Shinji finally spoke up. He still smiled, but as usual, the eyes told a different story. They were sharp and deadly serious. "Now we're told there's something you'd like to say to all of us." He looked around the group, lifting his hands theatrically. "Well, we're here. So spill, Kurosaki-kun… what's the big secret?"

They looked to him as one, asking the same question.

Do not show fear. They will take it badly.

Their Hollows aren't in control, jii-san.

Not for all. But one of them might be.

The thought chilled him. Unwilling to dwell on it too much, the red-headed teen spoke. "I met with Grimmjow today."

There was a shifting of seats. Heads turned. Eyes narrowed. None spoke. Not even Shinji, who slumped with elbows on knees and a frown exposing his teeth.

Ichigo considered each of them in turn. "He claims he didn't kill Hachi."

Kensei gave a disbelieving snort, and Hiyori stirred restlessly. The others made no move. Here goes nothing.

"He said it was one of you."

History repeated itself, as the youngest Vaizard found himself lying on the ground with a half-dozen swords pointed at his face.

The masks hadn't come out. That was one thing to be grateful for. Only those cold impersonal visages did not seem any less inhuman as a result. Judging by that, they would kill him in a heartbeat and not fret about it afterwards.

This came as no great shock. However what really surprised him was to see that tiny temperamental Hiyori wasn't among them. She remained crouched in the same position, watching them about to fillet him. "Guys," the blonde gamin spoke with withering scorn. "Ever heard of 'Don't kill the messenger'?"

They looked to her, then down at Ichigo. After a while the Vaizard sheathed their blades and stepped back. "You are without a doubt the least diplomatic envoy in the history of communication, Kurosaki-kun," Lisa affirmed in typical deadpan fashion.

"Don't listen to her, little kōhai." Mashiro gave him a chipper salute like the last ten seconds never happened. "I still think it's cute how you don't have any sense of tact." She turned to Lisa. "Shall we?"

"We shall."

Green-haired gogo girl and sexy sailor schoolgirl reached down to take an arm apiece and hoist Ichigo up onto his feet. Without letting go they proceeded to march him across the cavern towards one of the many tunnels leading in. He chanced a look back in perplexity, but the rest had retaken their seats.

Led unerringly by the two lieutenants, they arrived at last in a small alcove lit by a teal glow. There was nothing to be seen except for a ceremonial stand normally used in households for paying respect to lost loved ones. Atop it rested a sword in its sheathe.

Lisa quickly lit an incense stick and placed it in a receptacle. Then both women crouched down in prayer with eyes shut. "Join us, Kurosaki-kun," the older one stated. "Pay your respects to Hachi."

Feeling uncomfortable but understanding what was required here, Ichigo knelt between them. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the person this shrine was meant to honor.

"And that's enough."

He looked up to find them watching him from opposite sides. The guilty teen peered between those crossfire stares.

"We come in here when things get to be too much," Lisa explained. "It helps to remind us why we stick around and don't go back to making lives for ourselves in Soul Society."

Mashiro joined in. "That's Hachi's zanpakutō in case it wasn't clear. When we catch Grimmjow, we'll use it to gut him. That way his memory can finally be laid to rest!" She giggled with fingertips pressed to her lips. "And us two girls brought you in here because if one of the boys paired with one of the girls, should the boy be a traitor, he'd kill at least the girl with ease before being subdued. And if two of the boys brought you in, should they both be traitors, you might be killed." She drew a finger across her throat and made a gurgling croak. "Make sense?

"Uhhh…" The prospect of being murdered in the dark did not serve to convey on him a sense of mental acuity at the moment.

"Don't worry about it!" The little bubblehead patted his red hair kindly.

"This is to help you understand how close we all are." Lisa took off her glasses and polished them on the hem of her shirt. Doing so caused her cleavage to become more visible. He had to work not to stare too obviously. "More than lovers, siblings or BFFs. The Vaizard have gotten to know each other so well because there simply wasn't any way to survive together otherwise. Can you imagine having seven nightmare roommates who won't move out? All the annoying little quirks like leaving dirty dishes piled up, taking people's stuff without asking, chewing with your mouth open? All that, for 100 years?! If we didn't learn to anticipate and care for one another like no one else before, somebody would have wound up stabbed a whole lot."

"So we did, and that's that." Her bubbly partner stood up. "Long story short, Junior: don't ever walk in here and accuse us of something like that again. Cuz if you do…" Once again the finger drew across the throat, only slower with more gurgling and a lot more eye-bulging than before.

"Got it." Ichigo nodded furiously with sweat dripping down his face. "Very sorry for the misunderstanding. I should never have brought it up. Please accept my apologies."

"Okay! Mission accomplished!"

"Shall we bang him?" Lisa asked in an offhand manner. She gazed down at the quivering youth, who blanched.

"Nah." The other girl skipped on past. "He looks permanently flaccid. Mushy doesn't move me."

"Agreed." And with that the members of the Masked Army departed, leaving Kurosaki to scramble up and follow behind. When they reemerged into the glow of the firepit the others remained as they left. Upon being riveted by so many disapproving glares, their former student managed a hasty bow and muttered, "Sorry!" before making a beeline for the cave that led back outside.

Lisa and Mashiro retook their places. For a long time the Vaizard did not move. They watched the flames crackle and snap before them. Memories came and went like smoke. Friendship. Camaraderie. Family.

Betrayal.

All seven looked between one another. Then they stood up and returned to their own chambers.

---

"I tell you, Aizen-sama was there! I saw him before me just as you are now!"

"Ridiculous! You let yourself be tricked, Ein. That water fairy nearly bashed my head in, no thanks to you!"

Vogel and Diega looked about ready to come to blows. The only thing restraining them was a shared confusion about this episode that prevented either from agreeing on what took place or why. Those inclined to support the two powerful Hollows had taken up position behind them in case a full-blown brawl started.

Watching this quarrel escalate, Enfain Tezima fed upon the remains of a plus. Had to admit she was impressed. Vogel and Diega were the heads of what might be called the pro-Aizen faction in their pack, those who believed in the promise of the once and future King. While certainly not friends, their shared respect for El Rey de la Luna meant they could usually depend on one another to be in agreement should an issue arise amongst this crew. Now that strained relationship appeared to have snapped altogether. The majority of the hunting party was not bothering to watch the argument, too busy feasting ravenously upon the glut of tasty human souls Grimmjow brought back from his little field trip.

And speaking of which…

Finishing her meal, the second-in-command picked herself up and sidled off to where their leader sat alone on an outcrop of rock a short distance from camp. White wastes stretched endlessly all around them. Jaguerjaques gave no sign he noticed her presence or wanted her to join him. Tezima did anyway.

"Someone had a busy day," she opined.

"Oh, yeah?" The Espada leaned back on his hands. He hadn't bothered to consume any of the frightened human souls no matter how rich the eating. Muscles rippled under the scar on his bare chest and around his Hollow hole. He looked ferocious and dangerous, to say nothing of appealing.

"At first I assumed you were taking those two off to kill them," she continued. "Vogel for sure. That's your style, after all."

He grunted noncommittally.

"Instead it seems you had a plan. Ein's magic got that human's attention without anyone being aware of it. While you and he talked, those two scavenged up all the free-roaming human souls they could get their hands on and stored them in Albion to feed the hungry mutts upon your return. At the same time, you somehow managed to drive a wedge between them that's cost both prestige, while your position as leader is stronger than ever. The only one who benefited was you."

Narrow blue eyes flicked to train upon her. He took note of the blood that still spattered her mouth, lingering on thick scarlet drops sliding down pale throat and body. "You sound pretty well informed, Tezima. Any chance you tagged along to keep an eye on things… without my permission?"

"And leave the pack leaderless? Not likely." Tezima rested her head on upraised knees to regard him with newfound respect. "Still, never took you for such a grand chessmaster, Grimmjow."

The head of the pack gave a disdainful snort but continued to watch her with a fixed intensity. "Who do you think I am, Aizen? I don't plan my whole life out. I just live it."

"Yeah." A question she had been dying to ask came to mind. "So why did you decide to go to that Kurosaki mortal with this instead of the shinigami? It probably wouldn't take much to make them turn on the Vaizard. And he's more trouble than all the death gods in Hueco Mundo combined from what I hear. "

At this Grimmjow smiled. The sight sent an unfamiliar thrill shooting up her spine.

"Because if I did, those sneaky black rats would have just started investigating and planning and not even getting within a stone's throw of the Vaizard. That's how shinigami are. But not Ichigo." A rumbling chuckle emerged from his broad chest. "Knowing him, he'll go marching right up to their door and flat-out announce the big news. That dumbass is honest to a fault. And whether they want to or not, once the idea's in their heads, they'll start thinking about it. Seeing how much it makes sense. After that it'll be too late. Cat's out of the bag. No more trust. While they're busy rooting out the truth, we're free to roam where we please."

The Hollow spy nodded in quiet admiration, watching the way his eyes gleamed with a bestial light. "So Grimmjow wins again."

"Fuck yeah."

His hand shot out and grabbed Tezima by the throat to slam her against the ground so hard she could swear her mask cracked. At the same time Chiaroscuro leapt from its scabbard, stopping right against his exposed throat. He glanced down at the short sword drawing a thin line of blood from his thick hierro, never losing that evil grin.

"I don't stop until I get what I want!"

Her face was grim, visible eye narrowed with challenge. The frown she wore held no appeal. All the same, when Grimmjow relaxed his grip on her throat, she slowly drew the sword away.

Bending down, the ghost panther then began to lap the blood clean off her skin. Tezima permitted him to do so, while back at camp, the Aizen faction tore itself to pieces.

---

They know! I could see it in their eyes! They know!

Of course they know, King. They've always known. None of them wanted to admit it, though. But now that it's out in the open, things will eventually come to a head.

That bastard Grimmjow, he did this! He sold me out! And Kurosaki, that useless idiot, went right along with it!

Grimmjow neglected to mention it was you specifically. And Ichigo's Hollow kept its mouth shut as well. Honestly, I'm surprised you were even that fortunate. Count yourself lucky.

How can you be so blasé about this?! We could die!

Because I'll kill them all before that ever happens.

No, you won't! No more! I'm putting an end to this right now! 'Flee'!

Silence.

He drew in a shaky breath.

Oh, King…

NO!

I'm still here. It doesn't work anymore. You've given me too much. From here on out, it's all coming up roses for me. Little by little, I'll get control. Think about that before you go to sleep tonight.

No…

Nighty-night, King. Pleasant dreams!

---

When Kon got back to the Usagi Shoten that night he found Ganju Shiba weeping in the courtyard next to a blackened pile of unrecognizable objects. Apparently after subjecting him to various indecencies under the guise of training, his older sister then made him gather up all the pornographic material in his room she could find and forced him to watch as she made a bonfire out of them. It had been a long day, and while he appreciated the trauma his good friend was going through, there was surprisingly little sympathy to be found anywhere in his heart. So he left the poor slob to his broken toys and went inside to get some rest. However as he drifted off to sleep the experience gave Kon an idea.

Morning dawned bright and clear. Upon waking the memory of his epiphany remained, and so Kon got straight to work. He donned a jogging suit so as not to be in his PJs, then collected a few heavy-duty trash bags and began loading them up. Everything went; videos, reading material, business cards, even the posters on his wall. There proved to be a lot more than he remembered, necessitating more than one trip. Having swept the room clean, he picked up some bags and went downstairs.

Ganju met him in the hall. Rubbing his bruised face, the lumpy spirit stopped upon noticing the mod. "You're up too? You know it's Sunday, right?"

"Yup," Kon dipped a nod in greeting. "Say, did Nee-san come back yesterday?"

"No, I don't think so." Ganju shuddered at the memories evoked by the word 'yesterday'. At that point he noticed the sacks. "What's that you've get there?"

"All my X-rated knick-knacks," Kon proclaimed with a smile.

Shiba's eyes filled with tears. "For me? Oh, Kon, that's so gener–!"

He walked on by, leaving Ganju fumbling over that sentence.

Kon slid open the front door of the shop and went around to the side of the building where their dumpster was located. A moment later he came back in emptyhanded.

"Wait, hold up, what are you doing?" Ganju asked upon his return.

"Throwing it all out." He went into his room and reemerged with another bag.

"What?! All of it? Is this because of my sister? Because Nee-chan said she didn't care if you…!"

"That's not it." His partner in perversion stopped and gave Shiba a friendly pat on the shoulder. "It's been real, Ganju-san. But you helped me realize something. There's no point settling for imitations when we can afford the real thing. And brother, last night I saw everything we've been missing out on with this stuff. So from here on I'm turning over a new leaf. It's only real girls for me, old buddy!"

Ganju's thuggish features twisted as he failed to make hide nor tail of this sentiment. "You're saying we should try nudie bars?"

The pitying look Kon gave back stung almost as bad as the slaps he received from Kukaku. The mod soul trooped on by, leaving that forlorn ghost wondering how the world could turn its back on him in such a cruel fashion.

Kon lobbed the last garbage bag into the dumpster. He dusted his hands off, smiling proudly. That's all of it. The trash won't be picked up until Tuesday. Might find myself regretting it before then. Maybe just a few…?

No. Cold turkey, that's the way to go. No more leaning on a crutch for this guy. High time I started putting in the effort just like every other lovelorn doofus out there. Overhead the sky was dark with clouds. Rain was on the way by the smell of it. Better get inside or I'll get soaked. Taking one last look at his lifetime's worth of personal treasures, he reached up to close the lid.

As he did, something odd caught his eye.

Reaching in, Kon extracted the object in question for further examination. At first he felt certain there must have been some mistake. But as he held the small colorful item in his hand, its provenance became clear.

What was a pregnancy test carton doing in there?

He looked around the deserted lot in confusion. This is the shop's private dumpster. Why would somebody come all the way back here to dump their junk? Not like any of us would need it. The only girls around are little Ururu and…

Kon went still.

The box fell from his hands to lie in the dirt.

No.

No. That's crazy. He told me that… I mean, she wouldn't… they're not even…!

Some kind of madness seized hold of him. A second later Kon had leapt bodily into the dumpster without a second thought. He flung aside mounds of trash, hoping and praying he never found what he sought.

And then there it was. Kon reached out, only to recoil, as though this were a murder weapon, like a gun or a knife.

After a time he finally got the nerve to pick it up. His eyes closed, breath coming in short ragged gasps. Please. Please, not now. Don't do this to me now.

When Kon looked down, the mark on the pregnancy strip read blue.

He dropped it and ran.

---

Karin Kurosaki came stumping down the stairs rubbing an eye tiredly. "Mornin'," she grumbled as she flopped on a chair in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Karin-chan!" her sister Yuzu buzzed about whipping up some breakfast. "Wasn't yesterday fun? I thought I'd be tired, but I had so much energy when I woke up, I just had to get right to work! I'm making French toast."

"Sounds good." The older twin glanced around the strangely deserted dining area. Seems Dad never came home last night after leaving with the Dragon Lady. Ichi-nii brought them back; or rather, the spirit occupying his body did. Nii-san abandoned them at a certain point during the festival to do shinigami duties, or something. This left them with a brother who spouted lines from movies Karin didn't recognize. Hopefully he had come back sometime in the night and retaken control. She'd be glad when that one was out of their brother's system. Who designed those things, anyway?

"Is Ichi-nii up yet?" she asked.

"Yup!" Yuzu cracked some eggs and began to whisk them in a bowl. "We didn't have enough ingredients, so I sent him to get some from the 24-hour convenience store. He'll be back soon."

"Was he still acting crazy?"

"Nope! Back to normal. It must have been something he ate at the festival. Just needed to get it out of his system, I guess." She giggled to herself. "Hasta la vista, baby! What a strange thing to say!"

That's a relief. Karin stood up and went to get some guava juice from the refrigerator. The sound of rain falling came from outside. Hope their brother thought to take an umbrella with him. As she poured herself a glass, there came a sudden frantic pounding at the front door.

She screwed the lid back on and trotted out into the hall to answer it. "Forgot your umbrella, Ichi-nii?"

When she opened the door, it was to find a drenched Kon.

"Is Nee-san here?!"

Karin flinched a bit, unnerved. "Rukia?" The expression on his face made her freeze. She almost didn't recognize him. He might have been crying, but with the rain it was hard to tell. "No."

To her shock Kon dropped down and grabbed her by the arm. "ARE YOU LYING TO ME, KARIN?!"

"NO!"

She pulled away from him to stagger back a bit. Horrified, Karin watched the big youth, heart pounding with fear. What's wrong with him? Is he drunk, or high? Why is his head shaved? He had on an orange tracksuit that smelled like a garbage dump.

At seeing the look she gave him, Kon seemed to realize his mistake. "I'm sorry… please, don't be scared, I'm just… I don't know what I'm…" He reached out a trembling hand for her. When Karin drew further away, Kon's face twisted with grief. "Oh damn, Karin, I'm so sorry, I… !" He then grew calm so fast it scared her anew. "Where's your brother?" he demanded softly.

A chill swept through her at the way he said that. His features had gone slack. When he looked at her there was hardly any recognition to be seen. Like he didn't know who she was. Karin almost wanted to scream.

"Kon?"

Oh, no.

She looked up. There at the gate leading into their yard stood Ichi-nii holding a paper sack with a jacket hiked up around his ears to ward off the rain.

Before she could say or do anything to warn him, Kon came about.

Next thing she knew Ichigo was flying out into the street, groceries tumbling around him.

Behind her Yuzu screamed as she came into the hall and saw what happened. It was like a nightmare. Karin heard the sound of her brother's body striking wet pavement. He splashed round and around before coming to rest. Amazingly Ichigo sprang to his feet faster than she might have thought possible. He thrust a hand into his pocket and came out with what looked like a Pez dispenser.

"NO!"

Then Kon was there, his foot lashing out blazingly fast to connect with the colored tube. It shattered completely, sending pills spilling out to go rolling everywhere. Ichigo staggered back clutching his hand, teeth gritted and eyes wide with pain and fury.

"You think I'll let you cheat here too?" The man he had called his friend stood hunched over without moving. There was hot vengeful hatred in every line of Kon's face. Those bright blue eyes quivered like a madman's. Water poured off him, and his legs seemed to steam. "Think you can just pop a pill and get stronger? I don't THINK SO!"

People in the neighborhood were coming out of their houses to see what the commotion was about. When they saw what looked to be a fight, some ran back inside or shouted to call the cops. None of them moved to try and stop it, though, whether because of the rain or fear of getting involved.

Ichigo didn't know what was going on. Was this really Kon, or something inhabiting his body? The way he looked was so bizarre.

"Kon." He held up his scraped and bleeding hands. "Listen to me…"

"SHUT UP!"

The mod soul flipped into the air higher than a house. One leg whipped out to descend with a roar of rage. Thunder rumbled in counterpoint. Instinctively Ichigo dove to roll beneath the falling attack, coming up in a crouch, while behind him pavement was driven into the ground with enough force to form a sinkhole right there in the street. Almost losing his footing at this localized meteor strike, Ichigo cast a frantic look behind him to check on the girls. Sure enough Karin was running to join them.

"Stay there!" he shouted, thrusting out his arm. She staggered to a halt by the gate, hanging back with fear written all over her. By the house Yuzu was on her knees crying. Neither of them looked hurt. I'd better try to take this fight somewhere else before that can change.

"Don't look away from me, you piece of shit!"

He returned his attention to the matter of impending murder. Kon came stomping out of the depression he had made. Concrete cracked beneath every footfall. His shoes were in ragged tatters, falling off his feet to leave them bare. A quick look around confirmed that none of the gikongan pills were in sight. Too much rain and damage to the street. There would be no question of shinigami powers brought to bear in this confrontation. Come to think of it, trying to get to a safer location wasn't an option either. Kon would catch him in a heartbeat, and he didn't seem inclined to listen to reason. Which left only one course of action.

Breathing out, Ichigo assumed a martial artist's fighting pose. Hands at the ready, he watched his opponent approach, studying him. When Kon looked about to spring forward, he hopped nimbly to one side and delivered a solid punch to the jaw.

Next thing he knew Ichigo Kurosaki was on the ground clutching a shattered kneecap.

"You think your dime-store karate can stop ME?! I WAS MADE TO KILL!"

When her brother fell, Karin turned and dashed back into the house. She noticed Yuzu had passed out to slump senseless in the hallway. Having assured herself of this, the girl then raced up the stairs to her room.

"I fought for you!" Kon rasped, pacing back and forth by the fallen Ichigo. "I put my life on the line to protect you, your sisters, hell, this whole goddamn town, come to think of it! All I asked…" He stopped and stood there swaying from side to side while rain fell all around. "Was it too goddamn much to ask that you give me just a little something to hold onto? Why the hell do you get everything and not me? Seriously, kid, what is so fucking special about ICHIGO FUCKING KUROSAKI?!"

Slowly Ichigo got to his hands and knees in an attempt to stand. With a snarl, Kon kicked him in the stomach, lifting him off the ground to splash down in a graceless heap. Coughing and choking, the battered hero could do no more than curl up into a pain-wracked ball.

"You wanna be some big badass death god, is that it? You wanna be afterlife royalty and lord it over everybody else? You want Rukia?! You want the princess? FINE!"

Kon's leg shot straight up into the air and hung over his head, a guillotine blade waiting to drop.

"Whatever you want, you greedy little bastard! I'LL MAKE YOU KING OF HELL, AND SHE CAN HAVE WHATEVER'S LEFT!"

"KON!"

With his foot still raised for the kill, the furious soul looked over his shoulder.

Karin stood trembling over by the house. In her hands hung a limp sodden toy. It took him a few seconds to realize what it was.

My old body.

Though a murderous frenzy still gripped him, the sight of this artifact from the past got his attention. Kon brought his foot down. At the same time, the little girl came walking haltingly towards them, holding up the cotton-stuffed lion as though it were a shield to grant her courage.

"Karin!" Ichigo gasped from his place on the ground. "Stay back!"

"Don't come any closer, Karin." Kon returned to examining his real target as the downpour soaked them all. "You might get hurt."

"Leave my brother alone, Kon," she said in a frightened whisper. The kid shook from head to toe, and it took every ounce of courage she possessed to continue walking towards this person she didn't even recognize.

"No." He shook his head, voice almost dreamlike in quality. "The hero hasn't gotten his rocks off by defeating me yet. Have you, Ichigo?"

"You coward!" Karin spit, t-shirt plastered to her body and teeth gritted. "He can't even fight back! He's helpless!"

A spasm wracked Kon's whole body as though that word had pained him. Now he too was shaking. "Dammit, Karin!" his voice broke on a sob. "Do you know what he did?!"

"Kon." She held up the doll. "Look at this."

He did. The blank-eyed mod shuffled around to study that equally dead-eyed toy. Seeing it made him cringe. There was nothing alive about that thing. It's just an empty doll, one whose pitiful face held only mockery.

"You bastard," Kon croaked.

I'm not a doll.

And that's why he shouldn't have done it.

The middle-schooler drew up right before him. When she continued to proffer the ragged little animal, rage shot through Kon. Angrily he reached forth to rip that worthless toy to shreds!

As he seized hold of it, Karin ducked down and drove her palm right into his stomach.

On her hand was a red glove emblazoned with a skull logo wreathed in blue flames.

A sigh emerged from Kon's lips along with a small green pill that went clattering over the ground. Instantly the force animating that body vanished, and it crumpled to lie beside the similarly prone Ichigo.

Karin went over to pick up Kon's gikongan. She held it for a moment more before inserting it into the lion plushie's mouth.

Shiny black eyes blinked up at her. Karin and Kon stared at one another, with him unable to harm anybody now. Neither one spoke. Around them people from the neighborhood began edging out into the street once it looked like the danger was over. Some of them demanded to know what had happened, but even for those who had watched the whole event, a suitable answer was not forthcoming. The sound of an approaching siren could be heard in the distance.

Without letting go of Kon, Karin looked between Ichigo and Yuzu. For a while she didn't know which one needed more help. How am I supposed to deal with this?

As she stood there, someone slipped a raincoat around her shoulders. Karin looked back to find the Dragon Lady gazing down at her sadly with droplets on her glasses. Dad was clambering out of a taxi and came rushing over, elbowing his way past their neighbors. The two adults then spoke in low voices made indiscernible by the pouring rain and clamoring crowd. At last Nanao Ise went over to help Ichigo upright and support him hobbling towards the house. In the meantime Isshin Kurosaki knelt and slung Kon's empty body over one shoulder. He placed a hand on Karin's arm with a half-hearted smile, then led them back inside the house.

The skies continued to weep, and the wail of a siren soon eclipsed all.

---

When Rukia approached the Kurosaki home, she was at first surprised to note an ambulance and police car parked outside. Then she recalled its status as a clinic as well. Perhaps there had been an altercation? Her eye took note of what appeared to be a large crater in the street across from the house. That sense of worry increased. Had there been a Hollow attack? Clutching her transparent umbrella decorated with rabbits, she swiftly crossed the yard. Just as she was about to touch the door handle, it opened and two police officers came out.

"Never seen a lightning strike do that," one of them complained. He then took note of Rukia standing there with arm outstretched. "Pardon me, jō-chan." Doffing their hats, the cops stood aside, allowing her to pass before they exited the premises.

She stood in the intersection between kitchen and living room. From there Rukia saw a teary-eyed Yuzu and her sister Karin hugging on a chair, both wrapped in a big towel. Kon lay on the couch across from them. He didn't appear to be harmed, eyes closed as though asleep. However it did not escape her notice that no soul signature came off him. Why would he leave his body? Over in the kitchen, Nanao and Isshin were sitting down talking to one another. They stood upon noticing her.

"What happened?" she asked.

A glance was exchanged between them. "No one's been hurt too badly, Rukia-chan," the Kurosaki patriarch said. "Ichigo and Kon had a fight. Karin put a stop to it. We've healed the damage for both of them. They're upstairs talking right now."

While aware that she was not fully apprised of the whole situation, Rukia felt the reason for her being here could not be delayed any longer. "I must speak with Ichigo."

A pained look passed over Isshin's face. He rubbed his head before finally giving a nod of acceptance. The determined maiden wasted no more time and headed up the stairs. Soon she stood before Ichigo's room, the number '15' hanging off it. Rukia reached up and knocked. Within the faint sounds of a conversation stopped. Then the door opened, and the man she loved stood before her looking beaten and drained.

"Hey," was all he said.

"Ichigo, we have to talk."

Mouth half-open, he hung his head and stepped aside for her to enter. Rukia did so. There she found Kon sitting on Ichigo's bed in his stuffed lion form. He looked at her for a moment, but before she could even ask for privacy the little teddy hopped down and walked past her. This came as a surprise such that Rukia almost asked him to stay and explain what led up to this. Before she could he was out the door, which closed behind him.

"Have a seat," Ichigo indicated towards the bed. She accepted the invitation, and he pulled the chair out from his desk to sit before her, arms draped over the backrest and chin resting upon them. He looked so unbelievably tired. Clearly something important took place while she was gone. The details could come later. There was so much to talk about; the Arashi, the proposal, each other.

Time to get this show on the road.

Agreed.

"Ichigo…"

"I heard. You're pregnant."

Oh, come ON! How does everybody know this?

"You know?!" she gasped in shock. How?! Could Ishida-sensei have told him? For that matter, how did Lord Arashi…

"Kon told me. He found the pregnancy test while taking out the trash. Then he tried to kill me."

Oh no.

Ichigo regarded Rukia, who sat speechless. A grin tried to form on his face only to die a second later. "I'm really…"

She waited for him to finish, hands twisting in her coat.

All he said was, "… really tired."

Rukia had no answer for this. They both just sat there, looking at one another. They did not touch nor speak. The only thing between them was a cold silence pregnant with unspoken questions as the rain continued to fall outside.

---

On the bracken-spotted dunes of Hueco Mundo, the Hollow of Ichigo Kurosaki threw back its head and screamed.

To be continued…