Here we are everyone, I got yet another chapter for you all to read and enjoy. Maybe not the most action intense chapter, but don't you worry, you'll have your fill soon enough. It still has some important scenes and interactions we thought were a worthwhile addition to the story. I think you'll all agree. I eagerly await to see what you all think in the reviews.

Thanks once again to Greatkingrat88 (for writing) and jcampbellohten (for being our Beta)

Bleach is owned by Tite Kubo and Shounen jump. Fairy tail is owned by Hiro Mashima and weekly shounen magazine. I own NOTHING. This is all just for fun

The doors to the private counsel chambers of First Division opened abruptly, their hinges groaning under the pressure put on them. They were massive oaken things, sturdy, heavy, built more for the grandeur and the sense of majesty they inspired than for practicality, yet under the force exerted against them they banged open, nearly breaking as they opened, slamming into the wall. Yamamoto, who had been bent over his desk in quiet discussion with his two favoured pupils, Ukitake and Kyouraku, looked up.

Kurotsuchi Mayuri, fuming, practically frothing at the mouth, marched into the room with wide, urgent strides. He lacked his characteristic hat, leaving a tuft of hair exposed, and his clothes were in disorder. One arm hung limp by his side, and the other was pointed furiously at Yamamoto.

"I demand justice!" he snarled angrily. "I demand retribution! Satisfaction! I want to see that bitch burn, captain-commander!"

Yamamoto did not answer immediately, simply staring down the infuriated captain. Just before Kurotsuchi was about to open his mouth again, he spoke.

"You barge into a private strategic meeting unannounced, Captain Kurotsuchi?"

"This matters, damn it!" Kurotsuchi cried. "That lunatic at fifth just-"

"Destroyed half the science facility?" Kyouraku said, cutting him off with a sigh. "And to think I just told her to play nice only yesterday..."

"We have been made aware," said Yamamoto, interlocking his fingers behind his desk.

"She broke into my division, into my facilities, broke my arm, chained me down and sabotaged, crippled or outright destroyed dozens of vital science projects!"

Kurotsuchi's voice was at its fullest height, nearly losing its pitch for how loudly he was shouting. This was anger of a kind rarely seen, to a point well beyond reason.

"She stole- I say stole dozens of specimens! Decades' worth of scientific data has been undone! This is a crime against science, against the Gotei, against all knowledge, and I demand she be executed!"

"You 'demand'?" said Yamamoto, and a man not beside himself with rage might have noticed the shift in his tone.

"We're aware of the 'specimens' you lost, too," said Ukitake, his tone more overtly hostile. "The ones who didn't die within hours of being removed are being treated at Fourth."

"Of course they'd die, you imbecile!" Kurotsuchi snarled. "The drugs I administered to keep them in check were highly addictive. Without them, their systems collapsed. This is what happens when brutes are allowed to do as they please!"

"I would suggest you have a word with Captain Unohana, then," said Ukitake coolly. "In fact, she mentioned wanting to have a word with you about these people."

"The specimens served a purpose, better than any of their worthless lives otherwise ever could!" Kurotsuchi snapped. "Bah, enough of your sentiments! Captain-commander, Erza Scarlet must be punished for this!"

"Will your facility be able to function in accordance with the needs of the Gotei Thirteen?" said Yamamoto.

"Function?" Kurotsuchi snarled. "If you call this functioning-"

"Answer," Yamamoto demanded.

Irritably, Kurotsuchi spat, "Well, yes, if you refer to the technology we provide-"

"Very well, then," said Yamamoto dismissively.

"What do you mean, 'very well'?" Kurotsuchi shrieked. "How do you think the Gotei will function with plebeian fools like her subverting science? Just how much do you think the Gotei relies on us? Just how well do you think you would do without us? Without senkaimon, without hell butterflies, without literally everything related to technology? I am half-tempted to let you find out!"

As Kurotsuchi pontificated, Yamamoto rose to his feet and stepped out from behind his desk, his cane in hand. When the commander took a step forward, Kurotsuchi seemed to shrink down, his rage replaced by caution. Too late, he began to realize just whom he was speaking to.

"You dare," said Yamamoto, anger building in his voice, "to barge in unannounced, to make demands of me, even to threaten the Gotei and subvert my rule? Three traitors are out on the loose, and I pardoned many more. Know that my patience has run very thin, Kurotsuchi Mayuri!"

There was a surge of energy emanating from the captain-commander, and Kurotsuchi took a step back, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

"In case you misunderstood," Ukitake said icily, "our sensei will not be disrespected. Not by you, not by anybody else. According to the reports, Erza Scarlet torched roughly a third of your facilities. He would not be nearly as forgiving."

A look of horror passed Kurotsuchi's face.

"If I were you, old chap," said Kyouraku, "I'd make myself scarce. You're still our head of science, but you can be replaced."

"But-" Kurotsuchi said desperately, unwilling to let go.

"LEAVE!" Yamamoto thundered. "Be gone, before I shear your head from your shoulders, you insolent cur!"

Recognizing defeat at last, the scientist turned around and practically ran out. As he exited, Kyouraku slowly walked up to the doors, which he closed.

"Well," he said as he walked back to his commander, "I hope you realize that won't be the last of this, old man."

"I agree," said Ukitake, sounding concerned. "Still..."

"His anger served us well," said Yamamoto, and made his way back to his desk. "Had he filed a formal complaint, I would have had to process it duly. Overstepping himself as he did, I had good cause to dismiss him out of hand."

"Sly, old man," Kyouraku said with a grin.

"This is no cause for mirth," said Yamamoto. He sighed as he sat down. "Kurotsuchi Mayuri has been a cancer on us all. A dossier of photos taken last night at Twelfth was sent to me from Fifth. Its contents were every bit as revolting as I had come to expect. Would that he had never left the Maggots' Nest..."

"It's not your fault, sensei," Ukitake said firmly. "The Central Forty-Six approved his experiments, and you protested."

Yamamoto shook his head. "In this matter alone, I am willing to agree with most of anything Captain Scarlet will put forth. See to it that what happened there will not happen again. Whatever law needs to be drafted and approved, I will acknowledge as head of the Gotei Thirteen."

Kyouraku nodded. "I'll ask my vice-captain. She's good at this sort of thing. We'll write a bill, sign it into law... well, some oversight will be necessary, I suppose."

Yamamoto nodded. "True, indeed. Enough has been said, at any rate. Let us refocus our attention to the coming conflict."

His students nodded their agreement, and the three resumed their talks of strategy.

It had happened again. The dream had come back, as vivid and real as ever, and he had sat bolt upright, slick with sweat, nauseated and unable to go back to sleep. Ichigo felt like he was going mad. He couldn't tell his parents. What the hell would he say to them? He could barely face them. It had gotten to a point where he barely even spoke to them, preferring to rush off to school by himself and head right back to his room after he got home. He couldn't face them.

Normally he'd have turned to Erza, but she wasn't there. There was Orihime, but... somehow, it wasn't the same. His sensei he trusted to share that burden, but somehow it felt all but impossible to tell anyone else.

Something was wrong with him. People had bad dreams sometimes, and sometimes they could feel really real, but the same exact one? Taking the form of a hollow, when he'd nearly been overtaken by it in the Soul Society? No, this was no dream. Something was happening to him, and he had to find out what.

So it was that at six in the morning he urgently marched out from his home, heading for a certain candy store. Hopefully, his parents would think he'd gone to school early.

Right now, there was no other option. Urahara Kisuke was shifty, was shady, and had done nothing to really earn their trust. He had helped them, but had done so out of his own self-interest, and he had kept things from them. Sure, he had apologized to them when they came back, but he was no less shifty for it. But, Ichigo had no other options. Between putting his trust in Urahara Kisuke and letting this go on, the choice was clear. The idea of this going on any further was unbearable.

The burly man known as Tessai, when seeing his haunted expression, slid open the door for him immediately. Ichigo was shown inside and led to a dark, gloomy room filled with various computer screens and a large couple of tables covered with papers, scientific implements, and unwashed dishes. In a chair, Urahara sat hunched over a screen, his eyes fixed on a set of numbers running back and forth; some kind of code, Ichigo assumed.

"Mister Kurosaki," Urahara said cheerily, turning his chair around as Ichigo entered, "what brings you here at this early hour? Shouldn't young people be sleeping at this time?"

"I need your help," Ichigo said urgently. "It's, uh... look, I..."

Urahara cocked his head. "Help? I'm not sure what use I'd be-"

"Please!" Ichigo said, something desperate in his tone.

It had to have gotten through, because Urahara stood up, grabbing his cane, fixing his eyes on Ichigo.

"What ails you, Mister Kurosaki?"

"I... It's..." Ichigo murmured, trying to force the words out. "It's this... thing, okay?"

"You know, I'm not the person to ask about the birds and the bees, or any of those teenage issues," Urahara said dryly.

"It's not that!"

"Then, what is it? Something is clearly wrong, but I can't help if you won't tell me what it is."

"Well..."

"Have you been placed under some spell? Hindered from speaking? This is not sarcasm, by the way; such spells really do exist. I am sure we could fix that-"

"It's not that!"

"Then, what?"

"Well..." Ichigo groaned, and buried his face in one hand. He took a deep breath, and slowly began to tell his story, pushing out each word with great effort. He told Urahara of the hallway he'd stumble through in his dream. He told him of what he saw once he got to his parents' bedroom. He related in as much detail as he could manage what happened, each time.

"...and in the end," Ichigo managed, his voice trembling, "it's me. It always turns into me. At the end it's me sitting over... over Mom's body..." He paused, wincing at the thought of it, and his voice became a whimper as he continued, "...eating. Eating her. And in the dream I want to eat my sisters, too."

Urahara looked at him with keen interest now, his voice fully serious as he said, "This dream, you've had it four times now?"

Ichigo nodded. "Yes. It started a few days after we got back. Only, it's not a dream. I can't... I can't explain it, really, but it's more like a... like a vision. Like it's all really real."

Urahara nodded. "You're in rough shape. Unfortunately, I can't give you a pat on the back and tell you everything's going to be okay. However, I believe I can give you some answers."

"That'll do," Ichigo said weakly, nodding.

"Come with me," said Urahara, and abruptly walked toward the door. Ichigo followed behind him, and after a bit of a walk- the store seemed surprisingly large on the inside- Urahara opened a door, leading him into a strange laboratory of sorts. There were machines there, bulky, large, and with a purpose strange and unknown to Ichigo. In the middle of the room there was a padded chair, clearly designed for function rather than comfort. It had no legs, looking like it had been carved out of a block of plastic, and wires ran from its centre out to the various machines surrounding it.

"This," Urahara said with a hint of pride in his voice, "is where I measure spiritual pressure. I do not have the funds the Gotei does, but I've done all right. In fact, I am able to measure any specific type of reiatsu with an accuracy ranging within a ninety-four to ninety-eight percentile-"

"What do you need me to do?" said Ichigo bluntly.

"Oh. Right. Yes, I suppose you'd wonder," Urahara murmured, as if that had only just occurred to him. "Sit down in the chair. Let loose a bit of energy, that'll speed up the process. In a minute or two, that'll give me a wealth of data. Not that I don't already have data on you, but by the sound of things, there have been some... changes since you left for the Soul Society."

"Ain't that the truth," Ichigo muttered irritably. Something about subjecting himself to Urahara's scrutiny made him uneasy, but the thought of enduring another night and another nightmare made him more uneasy still. Carefully, he walked down to the chair and had a seat. Noticing it had arm and leg straps, as if to restrain whoever sat there, he said, "So, um-"

"Oh, no reason to fret," Urahara said cheerily, as he started flicking buttons and turning gears, the machines humming to life as he did so. "Those things are only necessary if the subject is less than willing."

"...Right," Ichigo muttered, feeling even less at ease.

"Now, Mister Kurosaki," said Urahara, as the last machine- Ichigo counted five- came to life, glowing from various places, "kindly emit a fair amount of energy, if you please."

Ichigo obliged, spiking his reiatsu. He wondered if he should have left his body and turned into a shinigami, but he supposed Urahara would have asked for it if he needed it.

"A little more," said Urahara, curiously eyeing a small computer screen. Ichigo obliged, raising his reiatsu.

"Excellent, excellent..." Urahara said absent-mindedly as he went from one machine to another, fidgeting with buttons, levers and wheels, popping a loose piece back into place here and there, pausing only to hover by a screen or two.

"Keep it steady," he said, continuing his work. Just what the man was doing Ichigo had no idea, so he simply maintained his reiatsu output. It wasn't hard at first, but as one, then two minutes passed, it became somewhat straining. His human body wasn't meant to release this much all at once, not for an extended period of time.

"Very well," Urahara said at last, "you can relax, Mister Kurosaki."

Letting out a relieved breath, Ichigo let his energies return to normal.

"Step out of the chair, please, and wait outside for a few minutes," Urahara grinned, looking genuinely happy. "You just provided me with a wealth of data, I am happy to say. I'll have to look over it quickly."

'Quickly' and 'a few minutes' turned out to mean nearly an hour of Ichigo waiting impatiently out in the hallway. Part of him wanted very much to march in and demand answers, to tell that infuriating, shifty little man to stop messing around, but he forced himself to remain patient. Right now, his mental well-being was at stake, and if that meant indulging Urahara Kisuke, then so be it.

Finally and without warning, Urahara popped his head out of the lab, carrying a messy stack of papers- no, one very long string of papers, clumsily wrapped together and barely held in by the man's arms- and promptly walked past Ichigo in long, wide strides.

"Hey!" Ichigo cried, and hurried after him.

Urahara took no heed, and Ichigo practically had to run to keep up. The exiled scientist went back to the room Ichigo had first found him in, flicked on the lights- with some effort, as his hands were quite full- and dumped the papers unceremoniously on a table, sweeping everything else on it onto the floor; leftovers, scribbled notes, instruments, old paper files, all swept aside like they meant nothing. Carefully, he began putting the long line of paper in order.

"Hey!" Ichigo demanded again.

"Oh," Urahara said, his eyes still fixed on the paper. "Oh, right, it's you. Good to see you keeping up, Mister Kurosaki."

The papers, Ichigo could see, were filled with various black lines, going up and down. He could not make heads or tails of them, but obviously Urahara could, because he was looking at them with unbridled fascination.

"You said you had answers, damn it!" Ichigo burst out, losing his patience.

"Answers?" Urahara said, finally looking up from his papers. "Well, of course I do. Can't you see?"

"...No. Would I be saying that if I could?"

"I suppose that's true," Urahara said. "Answers, you said. Oh yes, I think I've got plenty."

"So?"

"Well, I've only been able to skim this data," Urahara explained enthusiastically, "and in fact, without any assistants to aid me, I could probably study this for years without being finished. This is a fascinating, fascinating reading, more complete and complex than any I had before-"

"YEARS?" Ichigo exploded, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Well... yes, if I were to be proper. But if I were to venture a reasonable hypothesis, an educated guess based on past data compared to these recent findings-"

"Then venture, damn it!"

Urahara paused, and Ichigo felt like punching the grin off his face.

"Very well."

He sat down in his chair, his back to the computer screens, and crossed his fingers.

"It may shock you to learn, Mister Kurosaki, that I have kept a close eye on you and your family."

"I'd be more shocked if you hadn't," Ichigo said flatly, "so spit it out already."

"Patience, Mister Kurosaki. You will have an answer, but it requires a bit of... context."

"Context?" Ichigo spat impatiently.

Urahara nodded. "Context going far, far back."

"Tell me what's wrong with me!" Ichigo shouted, frustration finally boiling over.

"You have a hollow inside you," said Urahara levelly, "but you knew that already, didn't you?"

"Yes! Yes, I knew that, thank you very much! It nearly took over after Kenpachi halfway killed me, and it's been in there ever since!" Ichigo was shouting every word now, anger and fear boiling over completely. "So if you can help, HELP! Don't sit there looking like a smug asshole wanting to hear how cool he is for knowing something I don't!"

"Firstly, that is very interesting information," said Urahara, as he quickly scribbled something down on a piece of paper, "and secondly, I can explain to you why it's there. But you have to bear with me- or do you not want to know how it came to be there?"

"I..." Ichigo said, taking a couple deep breaths, forcing himself to calm a little. "No... No, you're right. Fine. Tell me."

Urahara nodded. "Excellent answer, young man. As you said, there is a hollow inside you. You said it first surfaced in your fight with Kenpachi?"

Ichigo nodded. "Yes. But... I don't think that was where it started. Something... something in the back of my head has been around there ever since... ever since I regained my shinigami powers."

Urahara nodded and rubbed his chin. "Perceptive, Mister Kurosaki, and it's a good sign you were aware of something being wrong that far back. The truth, however, goes much further back than that.

"When first you regained your powers, we could clearly see the influence of a hollow on you, a presence struggling to gain dominance. Your psyche proved to be stronger, and you gained control- which is good, because otherwise you would have died."

Ichigo shuddered at the casual mention of his own end. Urahara's approach was casual, indifferent, a scientist's detached view of the facts.

Urahara continued. "I fed the others a story about this being a common feature in these situations- a lie, of course, but how are they to know? Forcefully gaining shinigami powers is an exceptionally rare circumstance. The truth is that the hollow was already there. That it always has been."

"What do you mean, it's always been there?"

"At this point, I believe you are well familiar with your heritage?"

"My dad was a captain and my mother is a quincy, sure," Ichigo said and nodded, "but I don't see what that has to do with it."

"Two exceptionally powerful individuals, one shinigami and one quincy. It would certainly make for powerful spiritual genetics, but it doesn't explain the hollow. No, that thing isn't part of your DNA, Ichigo, but it might as well be."

"What do you mean?"

"Are you familiar with the exact circumstances of your father's exile?"

"No," Ichigo said, shaking his head. "Dad told me he lost his powers and stuck around here, with mom, and that's it."

"Of course he would. That is the truth, I'll admit, albeit modified. You see, what happened to your father was no ordinary accident. To outright lose your powers, as he did, is very rare, and astronomically rare as a natural incident. Your father was affected by a special ability of a hollow, maliciously designed specifically to drain reiatsu."

"But how..."

"Who in the world might modify hollows," said Kisuke with a smirk, "for an upcoming war?"

"I wouldn't put that past you," Ichigo muttered, "but you mean... Aizen."

"I am all but certain of it," Urahara said, and nodded. "Yes, your father fought one of Aizen's creations some twenty years ago. He lost, but your mother came to his rescue. The hollow died, but transferred its essence into your father's dying, draining body. Had events run their course, who knows what might have happened? It might have sapped your father's energy to regenerate. It might just have been a last-ditch effort to survive, or more likely, it was its intended purpose. Exactly what Aizen wanted, I am not sure, but when your mother brought him to me he was all but dead. I managed to reverse the effects, but his powers were lost. I gave him a gigai to use, and he became, for all intents and purposes, human. With an artificial casing, but human still."

"Wait," Ichigo said confusedly. "If he's in a gigai, then how..."

"There are a lot of questions that could lead to," Urahara said with a chuckle, "and I think most of them can be answered as such: I am a very, very good builder. Genetic material to build something completely like a human- well, I won't get sidetracked."

"Right, the hollow," Ichigo muttered.

"I cannot be sure as of yet," Urahara said, throwing a glance at the new data, "but I would hypothesize that early during your mother's first pregnancy, perhaps as early as the moment of conception, the small fragment of the hollow's spirit surviving as a parasite transferred itself from your father onto you. It bonded with you on a spiritual level, and became one with that which makes up your soul. Because of it, your power grew exponentially, far beyond what you'd expect from even a quincy-shinigami crossbreed.

"My suspicions were first aroused after you first met Miss Kuchiki. I had kept an eye on your family as you grew up, of course, but nothing had seemed exceptional considering the circumstances. But the way you grew, so quickly... your aunt didn't spot it, but I suspected something was off from the beginning. Your reiatsu patterns are different- more powerful, and at a molecular level, more like a hollow's than a shinigami's."

"What are you saying?" Ichigo said nervously, dread lumping up in his stomach.

"You are a hybrid," Urahara said, fascination in his voice. "As far as I know, the first of its kind."

"S-so, what, then?" Ichigo stuttered out, his mind all but exploded at the revelation. "I'm just some... some sick science experiment for that sick fuck Aizen?!"

"No," Urahara said, and shook his head. "No, I very much doubt that he planned this. His idea was to test an experimental hollow on a powerful shinigami. He could not have foreseen that said shinigami would live, fall in love with a powerful quincy, and later breed with it. You can rest assured that you were an accident."

"...Gee, thanks," Ichigo muttered. "So... how does that lead to these dreams, these visions? I didn't use to have them."

"Therein lies the more uncertain territory," Urahara said brightly, as if the mystery of it only encouraged him further. "My belief is that although it may have deliberately transferred itself onto you during the foetal stage, it was unable to assert control over you. In all likeliness, your spiritual energy was too powerful, leading to it going into a dormant stage. This led to a symbiosis of sorts, a parasite making its host grow stronger while it was unable to act on it."

"What changed, then?"

"Miss Kuchiki," Urahara said simply. "Your power would likely have been better suited for the quincy arts, which are all about control and precision. When you gained the raw, full power of a shinigami, the creature was awakened, and began to try to take control. Fortunately you had good tutelage, but you were still susceptible to... extreme situations."

"Like almost dying," Ichigo said glumly.

"Like that," Urahara said affirmatively. "Yes, most likely it was the weakness, and the lack of control over your own power that followed, that allowed it to prosper."

"So, what's happening?"

"I'll be honest," said Urahara, and looked him in the eye. "Judging by the data, it's taking over your energy core. Its goal is to transform your power into that mostly of a hollow, to take charge over your body, and it's winning. When that happens- if that happens- you will die. Your mind will cease to exist, and all that will be left is a malicious, much too powerful lump of reiatsu with an intention to kill all you held dear."

Ichigo, remembering the nightmares clear as day, felt nauseated as despair crept across his mind.

"So, is that it, then? I'm... I'm just fucked? I'm gonna turn into-"

"Be quiet and focus!" Urahara said sharply. "Consider this, young man. The hollow only exerted control over you when..."

"When I was weak, but... I knew that already!" Ichigo burst out frustratedly.

"And if it only threatens to control you when you're weak, that means..."

"That... that... it only controls me when I'm weak," Ichigo said weakly.

"Work with me here, Mister Kurosaki," Urahara said impatiently. "It only affecting you when you are in that state would imply..."

"...That it can't get me if I'm strong," Ichigo mumbled.

"Exactly," said Urahara with a nod. "It means that it isn't close to taking you over. Not yet. Not for a good while yet. The fact that it needs you to be weakened to exert any kind of real control over your mind shows you which one of you is stronger. So far you've had no idea what to do, how to handle this, but that's about to change."

"But the dreams..."

"I'd bet you my last dime- well, half of it, at least- that it's a deliberate tactic to weaken you. To sap your willpower."

"Well, it's working," Ichigo said glumly.

"Mister Kurosaki," Urahara said thoughtfully, "how well do you know the physics of spiritual matter?"

"About as well as I know particle physics."

"I thought so. This is going somewhere, so bear with me. You know that spiritual matter- reishi- mimics real life matter to a point where, if you didn't know better, it would seem the same, yes?"

"Sure."

"But of course, they're radically different. Atoms, molecules, they follow patterns well documented by the scientific community here on Earth. Spiritual particles are different. Spiritual particles are not guided by the random hand of cause and effect. They reflect emotion, they reflect spirit, and they reflect will. Because of this, the afterlife looks much the same as life here, because it's what we're used to. Suffice to say that the Soul Society looks the way it does because it's what early man expected it to look like."

"What's your point?" Ichigo said impatiently.

"Didn't I just ask you to bear with me? The point, young Mister Kurosaki, is that in matters spiritual, willpower is essential. Your shinigami form may look human, it may bleed and sweat and digest food like a human body, but at the end of the day it's a lump of spiritual particles in the shape of a man."

"Just like we're a lump of atoms in the shape of a man when we're alive?"

"Don't get cheeky," Urahara said dismissively. "No, what I am saying is that while you can will yourself to physically change your body- you can will yourself to work out more, eat less food, eat more food, change your appearance- you cannot physically control its machinations. You cannot control your digestive system, or the neurons in your brain, or the flow of your blood. The most any human can do is to influence it indirectly. Reishi, on the other hand... in theory, it's possible to rewrite it completely. If you knew every particle of your soul, you could, in theory, rewrite and change your body at will. That is the idea that first drove me to create... my greatest failure."

"I still don't get it," Ichigo muttered.

"The point, you see, is that in matters such as these, your willpower and strength of mind is far more important than your physical well-being, because in spiritual terms, your mind is your matter. If your mind is well focused, you can reach peak physical performance. You can wrestle a zanpakutou into obedience. Or, you could even forcibly control a hostile spiritual presence in your mind."

"So..." Ichigo said, finally understanding, "you're saying that if I focus..."

"Yes," Urahara nodded, "if your will was iron, and you were in control of it at all times, the hollow would be chanceless. It's no mistake that it attacks your mind- when your mind grows weak, the beast grows stronger."

"So, how do I get a will of iron?" Ichigo said urgently.

"Typically after fifty years of intense self-discipline according to a philosophical principle," Urahara said dryly, "which is a bit of a conundrum, I'm afraid."

"Then why even bring it up?!" Ichigo burst out.

"I'm telling you, in a perhaps roundabout way-"

"Perhaps?!"

"I'm telling you," Urahara said smoothly, "that firstly, we have time. That secondly, you aren't helpless. That thirdly, this is a problem that can be fixed. Does that make you feel better?"

"Well, save the science mumbo-jumbo and just say that, then!"

"Understanding is key, young man," Urahara tut-tutted. "I'll get to work on this data. Give it a few days, and I should be able to think of something."

"But..." Ichigo stuttered.

"Oh, and," said Urahara as he opened a desk drawer, rummaging around, "take these."

He pulled out a pill bottle and tossed it to Ichigo, who fumbled but managed to catch it.

"What are these?"

"A cure for your nightmares."

"...No, really, what are they?" Ichigo said suspiciously.

"Reiatsu suppressants. They'll weaken your overall energy- but it should mean the hollow would be forced into dormancy for as long as you take them. One, each night, and you should be dandy."

Growing weaker? Not a pleasant idea. Facing another night with those visions? ...There was no choice.

"Mind you," Urahara added, "this is not a long-term solution. We'll have to find a proper one, and soon, or..."

"Or, I'm dead," Ichigo said flatly.

"Kind of you to say the words for me, Mister Kurosaki," Urahara said affably. "If it's any consolation, I'll make sure you're killed before you can hurt any of your family."

To Urahara's surprise, Ichigo looked him in the eyes and said, "...Thank you, Mister Urahara."

"...You're welcome."

"Well, um..."

"See yourself out, then. I've got work to do."

"Right," Ichigo said, and walked out. His mind was a little overwhelmed, but despite it all he felt better. He knew what was going on, at least, even if he didn't fully understand it.

As he watched Ichigo leave, Kisuke sat still, his mind racing. This was in no way unsurprising. The existence of an internal hollow was more or less what he had expected, but one so far advanced? He had to act quickly. Part of him was very much curious to just stand back and watch it happen, see what the result would be- nobody had ever seen a hybrid like this before; it'd be flat out unique- but then again... Yoruichi would never forgive him. That red-haired terror would break every bone in his body, too.

Well, no matter. Regardless of the outcome, he would have a wealth of data to study.

"Tessai," he called out after a while.

"Yes, manager?" said Tessai, having quickly walked into the room after hearing Urahara's voice.

"Get in touch with Shinji. I've got something important to talk to him about."

"So soon, manager? Only a few days ago you told me your relationship with him was tenuous, and that we ought to proceed with care."

"This is too important," said Urahara, his eyes fixed on the data he had extracted. "It can't wait. Young Kurosaki's life is at stake here- and perhaps the war itself."

With a bit of trepidation, Erza stepped inside Yamamoto's office. The summons had come later than expected; she had taken it as obvious that she would be called in to report before she had even finished her work at Twelfth, and that was if she wasn't arrested and brought there in chains.

Instead she had been summoned the afternoon of the day after, by a very ordinary messenger delivering a very ordinary summons. What this meant, she couldn't be sure, except that Yamamoto was probably not that infuriated; if he were he would not have taken his time. By no means did that let her off the hook, though...

Stepping inside his office, she stood in front of his desk, and in an odd way she felt like a schoolgirl who had misbehaved and been duly sent to the principal's office. Deciding to look her best, she stood to attention, both arms folded behind her back.

"You met with Captain Kyouraku recently, I believe?" said Yamamoto promptly, staring at her. His gaze was piercing, and Erza didn't meet it, focusing her eyes on his desk.

"Yes, captain-commander."

"He instructed you to proceed carefully as a new captain, did he not?"

"He did, sir."

"And he made it clear that he spoke for himself, for the Gotei, and for me."

"It was implicit, but clear, sir."

"Yet the very same day, you raid the research facility and burn half of it down, assaulting and chaining Captain Kurotsuchi."

"Yes, sir." After a pause, Erza added, "More like a third of it, sir. I believe we destroyed something like ninety-three rooms. The rest was left untouched. Following that, we liberated something in the vicinity of one hundred and fourteen captives-"

"I've read the reports," said Yamamoto brusquely. "Honestly, Captain Scarlet, I cannot begin to wrap my head around your actions. You have no sense of tact or caution."

"As you say, sir."

"Will you not even pretend to be apologetic?"

"I'm not, sir," Erza said, a spark of heat rising in her voice. "My only regret would be not doing more. Had I been more impulsive, I would have torn Kurotsuchi's head from his shoulders and burned him along with everyone who had worked on those vile projects. I am ready to face the consequences, sir, but I will not pretend regret. This was a long time coming. I righted a wrong that should have been righted ages ago. That should not have been in the first place."

Yamamoto shook his head. "Good grief..." he muttered. "The worst part of this is that I do not care for Kurotsuchi and his methods at all."

"Sir?"

"I knew well who he was from the start," Yamamoto said, and stood up, leaning on his cane. "Did you know that he was once a prisoner in the Maggots' Nest, kept in the deepest, most secure cell we had?"

"...Sir?" Erza said. It wasn't that she found it hard to believe, but that she was surprised the old man would admit it.

"He was," Yamamoto continued, and walked around his desk, "until Urahara Kisuke set him free."

"That man..."

"He was the original head of the facility, as you may well have heard. For what it's worth, he kept Kurotsuchi under control. Following his exile, however, a replacement was needed. Kurotsuchi had the competence, but not the ethics. The Central Forty-Six were impressed by the technology the facility had yielded, and eager to keep it going. I protested. I knew as well as you that he was a monster, and ought to be kept away from power. I was overruled."

"You don't say," Erza said, steel in her voice. She felt... angry. It was a direct confession of the flaws of the Gotei's system. But, it also conveniently freed Yamamoto from moral responsibility- to a degree, at least- and there were no surviving members to argue against him.

"When the quincy war came, he took subjects. I never asked, because I never wanted to know. What he did since then..."

"You saw the photos we sent."

Yamamoto nodded solemnly. "So I did. We are well past apologetics, Captain Scarlet. Know that in this matter alone, we are fully in agreement: Kurotsuchi Mayuri will not be allowed to repeat such horrors."

Erza blinked. The old man sounded serious.

"Then put in a committee," she said eagerly, "a gathering of people knowledgeable in science and well versed in ethics. See to it that all research has to be approved by them before it starts."

"That I will consider," Yamamoto said sagely. "However, the matter still remains that you used violence against a fellow captain- in a time of crisis, no less, and very much so against the law. What say you to that?"

"That I'd rather be a righteous criminal than a law-abiding monster," Erza said firmly.

Yamamoto sighed. "There was a time when I would have punished you severely for it. It is hard to admit, but sometimes... sometimes the answers are not so clear-cut as I like to think they are."

"Wise words, sir," Erza said diplomatically.

"Know that you will not be given this level of tolerance in the future. You righted a wrong, and for that reason you will not be officially reprimanded, but I expect full obedience in the future."

"Aye, sir," said Erza, knowing full well that she would turn on them the moment they sunk beneath her standards. Her allegiance to the Gotei was tenuous, and she was still unsure if it was worth holding onto. "What of the victims," she added quickly, "the people we freed?"

"They will be healed, rehabilitated, and released."

Deciding to press her luck, Erza said, "Do they not deserve an apology? Do they not deserve to be compensated? Should you not take responsibility-?"

"Responsibility is being taken!" Yamamoto snapped, his voice suddenly turning firm, angry. "We will give them what they need, after all. But the Gotei will not issue a public statement. We will not shame ourselves publicly with this knowledge."

"You think you can hide the truth?" Erza said incredulously.

"Hide it?" Yamamoto snapped. "Pshaw! The word is all over the Gotei by now. The conservative voices call you a disloyal thug, and the progressive voices call you a hero. No, there is no hiding the truth- you saw to that. But we will not stain our name. Not at a time like this. Do you realize how strained our relationship with the nobility is at this time? How many of them see nothing wrong with what was done?"

"Sir-"

"You may well try to change things, Captain Scarlet, and I've acknowledged it can be for the better, such as in this case," Yamamoto said firmly, "but learn to compromise, or you will never succeed. The Gotei will not address this. The freed prisoners will be given what they need, and quietly released. That is the only deal offered. You will accept it, or by all I stand for, I will see you burn as well."

"...Yes, sir," Erza said.

Looking tired, he walked back to his desk once again, slowly sitting down.

"You are dismissed," he said, "so be gone. We will speak no more of this."

"Yes, sir," said Erza, and gave him a curt bow. Uncertain of her feelings, uncertain of her place in the Gotei, she walked out.

Learn to compromise. She might. Or, it might be the death of her. Damn it all...

Erza was up late, sitting cross-legged on a comfortable pillow in her own personal room, door open to the night, polishing the chest plate of her armor. It was already spotless, and had nearly been that way when she took it off to be cleaned, but something about the familiarity of it helped ease her mind, helped her focus. It brought back memories from a long time ago, sweet and familiar. As she ran the oiled rag across the plate in slow, well-practiced motions, she almost heard the sound of the rowdy troublemakers of the guild hall, almost smelled the wood and beer, almost felt the soft breeze of her first home...

She didn't realize, sometimes, how much she missed it. It had been over a hundred years, and likely all her old friends were... gone by now. Their grandchildren would be adults. She tried not to think of her friends' graves; she had had enough grief of that kind. Instead she imagined what Fairy Tail might look like at present. One thing she was sure of, though: it would have endured. It would still be full of kind-hearted, rowdy, good-natured mages. She wondered if her legend- if it could be called that- still was told among them...

Suddenly she was snapped out of her reveries when she saw somebody walk past her door. A cursory sensing told her it was Momo. She looked up from her plate and called out to her.

"Momo, is that you?"

"Oh!" Momo said, giving a startled jerk. Nervously, she peeked inside Erza's room. "I, uh, I didn't mean to disturb you, captain..."

"Not at all," Erza said dismissively. "Do I look like I was sleeping?" She demonstratively held up a piece of arm plate.

"Oh. Um..."

"More importantly, what are you doing out of bed? It's..." Erza cast a glance at the clock in her room, "goodness me, almost three in the morning."

"I... I just couldn't sleep," Momo said tamely. "It's not your problem, captain."

"Firstly," said Erza firmly, and started polishing the arm plate, "it's Erza. At least when we're in private, you call me Erza always. Understood?"

"Yes, sir- Erza," Momo murmured.

"Secondly, come on in."

Momo hesitated, but stepped inside. As she got a closer look, Erza realized something was a little off. Momo's eyes were red, like she had been crying, and she looked disturbed.

"Take a seat," Erza said, gesturing toward a pillow opposite of her own. She took care to make her voice gentler, hoping Momo would understand. "So, tell me, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Nonsense," said Erza bluntly. "You're out of your bed at this hour, and I know for a fact you've got no reason to be burning the candle at both ends. And if you were, you'd be in your office. So, tell me."

"I just... I can't sleep, that's all."

Erza nodded, not wanting to pry further.

"I understand."

"It's just..." Momo murmured, hesitating a bit, "it's just that I... I tried sleeping, but... those things we saw down in the science facility..."

Erza nodded again.

"I just... I can't sleep. I see them when I close my eyes. It's..." she shook her head, and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be pushing this onto you, I-"

"Momo," said Erza, and paused her polishing, putting a greasy hand on Momo's, "why do you think I am up this late?"

Momo blinked.

"I saw it, too," Erza continued, "not that day, but before it. It was... one of the things he showed me, back then."

"Aizen," Momo whispered.

"The very same. I knew, all this time, what went on. That's why I went there. That's why I know why you can't sleep. That's why I understand." Erza smiled. "There's nothing wrong with being weak sometimes, Momo. Nobody is strong all of the time, no matter how much they pretend they are."

Momo smiled.

"Thank you, cap- Erza."

Erza squeezed her hand a little, then went back to polishing her armor.

"I couldn't sleep too well when I first knew it, either. It'll get better- but if you're going to be sleepy for the next week or so, I'll know why."

"It's just... it's so horrible, and it was... the Gotei's work. It's part of what we stand for, isn't it?" Her voice trembled, and Erza knew she had to tread carefully. As an officer of the Gotei- hell, as it was for any soldier- the governing body she served was part of her identity. Knowing that something one thought of as a part of oneself stood for something evil was sure to hurt. Erza wanted to lash out at the Gotei for its unjust actions... but that wasn't what Momo needed.

"It's not your fault," she said carefully, "and not mine, and not even the head captain's. It was decided by the Central Forty-Six. But, yes... this is part of what the Gotei has been. It will not be part of its future. That's what matters."

Momo nodded slowly. "When... when you said 'Aizen was right,' I didn't question it. I wasn't like the others. I knew there had to be a way that made sense to you. But... I didn't understand. I think I do now. He's an evil man, but... he wasn't wrong about this."

Erza nodded. "That's about it. I... I don't want to talk about it more, really. He made me do things I am ashamed of- not because he forced me, but because he made me think it was right. He's right to want change, but he's wrong about everything else."

"What will you do, then?"

"I'll take one step at a time, I guess," Erza said. She sighed. "I want to change this world, but... doing it this way, instead of his way, it's... difficult. It's such a tempting idea, just tearing everything down and starting over..."

"...But it would hurt people."

Erza nodded. "It would. No idea, no matter how well intentioned, can be justified if it means trampling people underfoot. He believes in a greater good, that his ends justify the means. I believe that when you believe that, there is nothing you won't do, and that's truly dangerous."

Momo nodded. "You're wise, Erza."

Erza shook her head. "Sometimes, I just feel like a big fool. I just try my best, that's all."

"That's all anyone can ask," Momo said firmly.

"Thank you," Erza said sincerely. "I... appreciate that. I can always count on you, can't I?"

"Till the day I die," Momo said firmly.

They sat together, speaking of nothings and somethings until dawn broke. They were tired the next day, but it was worth it.

"Third Division, pick up the slack! We're preparing for war, and you're not going to make it with form like that! Suzuki, straighten up! Tamaki, you're overextending!"

It was dawn, and Renji was up early, barking orders at his officers. One of his first orders had been to put all officers not on mission on hard training, leaving all administrative duties to lower ranked members with appropriate experience. The captain's haori still felt odd on his shoulders. It had been form-fitted for his measurements by one of the Gotei's best tailors, but still it always felt wrong- too large, awkward and wrong. He had put up a tough front, though, refusing to let his insecurities show. He had donned a black bandana, running around his head in a neat line, which he hoped made his appearance more distinct. It hadn't occurred to him that his plentiful tribal tattoos already did that.

"You're working them hard, I see."

The voice was amused, and Renji turned to face Lisanna Strauss, she too wearing a brand new haori.

"Captain Strauss," he said stiffly, "what brings you here so early?"

She laughed. "How official! There's no need to stop being you, Renji."

"I..."

"To answer your question," she said quickly, before any awkwardness could ensue, "I'm only here to fix a few logistic issues between our divisions."

"Check with Vice-captain Kira, then," Renji said coolly. "I'm sure he'll be able to help."

"All right, that was mostly an excuse," Lisanna said, and shrugged. "I just wanted to see how you were getting on."

"It... works," Renji muttered awkwardly, struggling to imitate the cool air of professionalism his captain- his former captain produced so effortlessly, "I'm, er, getting them in shape. For the war, that is."

"I can see that," Lisanna said with a cheeky grin.

"...Can I be honest?" Renji said, lowering his voice almost to a whisper.

"Please be."

"We need to get up to the best possible shape, that's true, but... right now, Kira has been handling most of the practical stuff. I'm trying, but... I'm not like you or sis. Wearin' the coat, that seems to come natural to you both."

Lisanna shook her head. "It's not easy for any of us, Renji. At least you're lucky enough not to have to deal with having had a traitor for a captain."

"Kira seems to hold up well," Renji said with a shrug. "I just... I don't feel like I belong here."

"You were a vice-captain, Renji. You didn't come here out of nowhere," Lisanna pointed out.

"I know I was, but... look, Hisagi's a better officer than either of us. Kira knows this division inside and out. What makes me stand out, eh?"

"You earned the bankai."

"Barely," Renji muttered. "Look at me, moaning like an old woman..."

"You could always not moan."

Renji grumbled something inaudible.

"Tell me this," said Lisanna levelly. "What's the response in the event of a full-scale invasion?"

"Defensive protocols in accordance with the manual of war, until further orders are relayed from the captain-commander."

"And what's the rotation for terminator squads under regular circumstances?"

"Regular patrols off-base for no more than two weeks at a time, six squads maximum."

"How many squads are out on patrol at the moment?"

"Five, for a total of twenty-five officers. Standard team sizes, organized according to rank and strength."

"And how's the paperwork? Drowning in it yet?"

"We manage, even if we're a bit behind."

"So," said Lisanna thoughtfully, rubbing her chin, "it almost sounds like things are under control at Third."

"Well, when you put it that way..."

"Renji, this will sound clichéd, but you need to believe in yourself. Everything else seems to be working out. Right now, none of us can afford to be weak. You think I don't feel the same? The difference between captain and vice-captain is huge. Few people can handle it easily."

"I know that, I guess."

Lisanna nodded. "'Attaboy. It's okay to not be sure of yourself. Nobody's never doubted themselves. But all the same, people like us need to at least act like we know what we're doing."

"And if we don't?"

"We act like it all the same," Lisanna said cheerily.

"Now, that's what I'd call counter-intuitive," Renji scoffed. "Hell, it ain't no small burden. Keep thing going smoothly, be what everyone looks up to, do the paperwork, be diplomatic, and somehow find the time to train your bankai."

"You're right. It's not small."

"...You know what?" Renji said, and shrugged. "I'm gonna go see if Kira needs a hand. I bet the third seat can keep an eye on this."

"There you go," Lisanna said with a nod, and smiled at him.

She avoided the thrust by the barest of margins, having moved her head aside at the last second, and kicked upward, knocking his blade aside. With one of her twin blades she cut forward, forcing her opponent to dodge back. Capitalizing on the opportunity, she kicked him in the chest, unbalancing him. He fell to the ground, and Erza's blade was at his throat not a moment later.

"Yield," she demanded.

Ikkaku stared at her with defiant eyes, his blood pumping. She had long since surpassed him both in terms of skill and power, yet Ikkaku was still just a cut below the average captain. Possessed of skill and loads of hard-earned experience, every victory over him was one she had to work to earn. Ikkaku, despite winning perhaps one out of ten spars, did not seem bothered in the least. He relished each fight. A perfectionist would perhaps have seen such disadvantage as an opportunity to learn; Erza certainly would have. Ikkaku, every bit Eleventh Division, simply loved to fight.

"Fuck you and your yielding," he said with a grin. Erza blinked, and that was enough. He lashed out with one foot, and Erza let out a cry of pain, sinking to one knee. That was enough, and Ikkaku rolled away, quickly getting to his feet. Erza spat, and stood up, her knee hurting something fierce. Ikkaku didn't mess around- they were both using their shikai, after all; no practice blades here- and he was not above playing dirty.

"You really try my patience, Ikkaku," she warned.

"Want me to give? Then make me give," he said. He surged forward, thrusting his spear lightning-fast. Erza parried without much trouble, but was nonetheless on the defensive. Predictably, his spear split in three, its tip spinning in a deadly whirlwind, and Erza was grateful she had decided to keep her armour on after all. Even so she evaded, dodged, and waited for an opening.

There it was. Locking his spear-tip with one blade, she made a wide horizontal cut. Ikkaku pulled back, but Erza hadn't meant to cut him. Crying out spiritedly, she charged him like a bull, the force of her attack throwing him back. Quickly she pinned down the sections of his spear with her blades, and slammed a high kick into the side of his face. He reeled again, and she slammed the hilt of her left blade into his nose for good measure. He fell over, and within the second he found himself with her blades crossed over his neck, one of her feet planted on his sword arm, the other on his chest.

Leaning in, a grin just as wide as his on her face, she demanded, "Yield."

"Right, right, I give," Ikkaku said, sounding satisfied. She stepped off him, and he got to his feet. "One more?"

"Can't," Erza said, shaking her head. "I can barely make the time for an afternoon spar with all the work I've got at the division."

"You'll grow soft," Ikkaku scoffed.

"Tell that to your nose," Erza snorted. "Actually... oh dear, I didn't break it, did I?"

"I'll stop by Fourth," he said with a shrug, ignoring his now crooked nose.

"Not so soft, was it?"

"I came closer 'n I had any right to, after all this time," he said dismissively. "With how even we was back in the day, and with you having grown that monstrously strong, like I knew ya would, you shoulda trounced me."

"I doubt I'll ever do that," Erza said cheerily. These fights somehow left her in a good mood, despite the dangers associated with them. Part of her still remembered what it was like in Eleventh, and the appeal of such a boisterous, violent crowd. "After all, you've had bankai much longer than I."

"Yeah, well," Ikkaku muttered sullenly, "maybe I don't train with it as much as I should."

"It's going to come out eventually, you know," she chided him gently. "You're a fighter, not a master of stealth. Somebody is bound to notice, if they haven't already."

"You think they'd have put that pup Abarai in charge if they knew where I was?" Ikkaku snorted.

"Maybe they think he's better leadership material than you."

"That he is," Ikkaku conceded. "Still... well, if it comes out, it comes out. Till then, I keeps it to myself."

He was stubborn, she knew, but she decided to push it nonetheless.

"I can't think of anyone I'd rather train my own bankai with. A big, powerful thing like yours, against a defensive type like my own... we'd both benefit."

"There're places out 'n the Rukon if you can sneak off properly."

"You know I can't. Not with..."

"The war, Aizen, blah blah blah. Them's the terms. If they work for you, they work for you. If they don't, they don't."

"You're dead set on it, huh?"

"Would you change yer mind on my captain?" Ikkaku said sharply. "I know you got an axe t' grind with him. You damn near killed him, and hell if that wasn't impressive."

"Do you... think I shouldn't-?"

"Oh, shut yer yap," Ikkaku said dismissively, and not unkindly. "If he'd gone out, he'd have died doin' what he loved most. What, ya reckon the great Zaraki Kenpachi'll die in his bed, an old man too weak to stand? When you're Eleventh, you expect t' die fightin'. Ain't right if you don't." He snorted. "Hell, I ain't never seen him in such a good mood as he was after he woke up. Second best beatin' he ever took, he said, and that don't say a little."

"I guess," Erza said, not sure how to feel.

Ikkaku nodded. "So..."

"Actually," said Erza, "after all we went through..."

"We?"

"Well, me, everyone else, but I meant... your captain."

"What, can love bloom now? Do pigs fly?"

"After everything that happened," Erza said firmly, refusing to rise to the bait despite an urge to do so, "I'm not sure... I hate him the way I used to. When push came to shove, he stood by my side. It wasn't for heroic reasons, but he still did. Where I come from, that matters."

"Well, let's hold our hands and sing, 'Kumbaya,'" Ikkaku chuckled.

"Don't get me wrong," she said sharply, "he is still a murderer."

"Aye."

"And a psychopath."

"Aye. And batshit insane, too."

"...Yes. I haven't forgotten the past. But let's just say my mind has... changed a little."

Ikkaku whistled. "Well, bugger me backwards, ya went back on a firmly held opinion in light of new events."

"That I did."

"So then there's no reason I shouldn't be able to do the same, right?"

"Well..."

He laughed out loud. "Good try. Ain't budgin', though."

Erza sighed, and shrugged. "I'm not going to make you. Still... do you really think you'll be able to go through this war without using it?"

"We'll see when we see, won't we?"

"You're impossible."

"Why, thank ya kindly, miss captain." He grinned again.

She shook her head, and chuckled. "I'll see you later, Ikkaku. Next week, same as before?"

"Next week, same as before."

Smiling to herself, Erza walked away. Many things had changed. Some things had not.

Twilight was nearing, and in half an hour at most, the sun would set. Komamura Sajin had one knee on the ground, kneeling before one headstone amongst countless others in the Gotei's military graveyard, a field whose white stones stretched for miles. He stared off into the distance, wishing that he had something to pray to, something to lean on in this time of hardship. Venerable Yamamoto had given him no reason to doubt, no reason to falter, but all the same he was struck by grief of a kind he was ill equipped to handle. He turned his eyes to the headstone, stood up, and sighed. Slowly, he became aware of a presence further down the aisle he stood by, standing still at a respectful distance. She was clad in armour, with bright red hair.

"What brings you to this place, Captain Scarlet?" he demanded, his voice raucous, not quite the authoritative rumble he usually spoke with.

"Forgive me, Captain Komamura," Erza said civilly, and walked closer. "I did not mean to intrude."

"Then, why do you stand there, as if to spy on me?"

"You are not the only one who has lost people in their time, captain," Erza said solemnly. "For over twenty years, four friends of mine had nobody to place flowers on their graves, nobody to pay their respects. It was about time."

Sajin took in a breath, and suddenly remembered. Of course- how could he have forgotten?

"Then, I must beg your forgiveness, captain," he said emotionally. "I am selfish to assume you had no legitimate cause to be here."

Erza shook her head. "Let us not apologize to each other needlessly. Here, if anywhere, a body ought to be able to let oneself feel without hesitation."

Sajin, with little to add, simply nodded.

"Tell me, if it's not too intrusive, who was she?"

"I never knew her," Sajin said slowly, shaking his head. "In fact, I never even met her."

Erza looked puzzled.

"She was the woman Kaname loved," he explained, "his role model. The officer that inspired him to join the Gotei in the first place. She was... murdered, he told me. But these times, who can really tell what is the truth anymore?"

"Komamura," Erza said firmly, and stood beside him, "I knew Tousen through Aizen only, but I believe he is an honest soul. Misguided and wrong, but honest in his intentions. Like I was, he has been manipulated and deceived. If he told you she was murdered, then I see no reason to disbelieve it."

Sajin paused, and when he spoke, his voice was slow and deliberate, firmly controlled. "It brings me... relief to hear you say it. It is disgraceful to be given such knowledge through treason, yet I feel relieved. He and I, we were... when nobody else would approach me or even speak to me, that blind boy alone was a friend to me."

"He is not dead yet."

"He might as well be!" Sajin said fiercely. "He has risen up against all that we hold dear, intent on our destruction. Tell me, Erza Scarlet, did he ever in all the time he conspired against us seem regretful or hesitant?"

Erza fell silent. The truth was that he had not. The truth was that Tousen Kaname had been zealously convinced of Aizen's righteousness, sure of his convictions, firm in his support to the point of devotion.

"Your silence speaks volumes," Sajin said, and shook his head again. "No, he must die, and therefore he is as good as dead already. That is why I go here. One day, I hope, I can at least give him a decent burial. My oldest friend..."

"I think I understand."

"Do you?" said Sajin sharply.

"You grieve already," she said solemnly, "but you hurt in another way entirely. The hurt of betrayal, I know that well. You trusted him, but all this time he went behind your back, planning your downfall- yours and everyone else's. Somebody you trusted completely, and loved like a brother, was nothing but a snake. That is the hurt you feel.

"But that is not the end of it. You feel a sense of guilt. You feel as if it's your fault for not doing more. As if somehow, if only you had paid more attention, spoken to him more candidly, if only you had been a better friend... that somehow, this is your fault."

"How could you possibly know?" Sajin demanded, his voice a growl.

"When I was young- very young- I had a friend like yours. Somebody I depended on and believed in. His mind was stolen from him, twisted into something dark. I left him and everyone else behind to save myself, and that guilt, that shame never left me."

He looked her in the eye, and she stared him down.

"When he came back, many years later, I felt he was my responsibility. I believed it was my fault. I believed I had to set it right and nobody else." She paused.
"But if there's one thing time taught me, it is that this is a lie. We are each of us responsible for our own actions, Komamura. Tousen chose his path. So did my... friend."

"What happened to your friend?"

"He died. So did I."

Ruefully, Sajin stared out into the distance.

"What do you do with such pain, Erza Scarlet? I've long worn the weight of responsibility. I've felt the pain of subordinates lost to hollows. Yet, nothing... nothing ever compares."

"It never goes away," said Erza, putting a hand on his massive shoulder, "not if it meant something. But with time, it goes better. Grief takes you dark places. It can break a body. You cannot do it alone. I know I couldn't. You must lean on others. It is a weakness, one that we all feel as people."

"Who am I to lean on? Kaname, he was- he was my best friend."

"Are you alone right now, Sajin?"

"I... am not," Sajin mumbled. "No, I suppose I am not."

"When your duties allow it, and mine, I'll be there," said Erza, a little moved, herself, "and that... well, that's the best I can offer."

"It will suffice," Sajin said, with a slow nod.

Yes. It would suffice.

In silence, the two captains watched the sun set.

First and foremost, I have some words from Greatkingrat88.

"Well, I hope you don't mind Urahara's huge exposition dump- I'm passionate about elaborating on the in-universe mechanics and the internal logic of bleach. Suffice it to say I put a lot of thought into it, and I'll be looking to do more of the same in the future."

Well said Greatking. Well said.

As for me, its good to see that Erza has found a new friend in Konamura. She really is the best person to help him out of his recent depression, she knows the pain of betrayal quite well. Ichigo seems to have found a solution to his problem, but the question is, will it be a permeant one, or a temporary fix? Hard to say, since we are going in a different direction with out story than the original cannon narrative. Don't worry though, the action with the arrancar is coming soon, really soon. Trust me when I say it will be worth the wait.