Well, here we go again.
Courtesy of Goshin's lacking creativity, this is I, Great King Rat LXXXVIII, supreme overlord of semi-decent crossover fanfiction silliness.
Pomposity aside, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. We're really looking to do things differently from here on out, and as you'll see in this chapter, actions have consequences. Don't like what we're doing? Tell us all about it in the reviews section. We love a bit of criticism, as long as it's fair. Like what we're doing? Tell us about that, too- we thrive on your opinions, approving or disapproving.
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.
Momo's shihakusho was damp with fresh blood, and was growing damper still with Erza's tears soaking into her shoulder. Her captain had been like this for minutes now, inconsolable and broken down.
Something was very wrong. Erza was the strongest person Momo knew, the one she looked up to above all else. She wouldn't be reduced to... this state except for extreme circumstances. More to the point, Momo realized, was the fact that as the teenagers stared on, mouths agape at the carnage, her captain wasn't going to take charge of the situation. But somebody had to.
Momo steeled herself mentally. She was the vice-captain of Fifth Division. When the captain was away- or out of commission- command fell to her.
Gently, she nudged Erza back, her captain seeming unwilling for them to go apart. Momo persisted, though, and put some space between them. She stared into Erza's eyes, ignoring the drying blood streaks on her face.
"I'm going to stand up. Okay?"
Erza gave no response, but Momo stood up all the same, keeping her hands on Erza's shoulders.
"Now, let's get you off of that... thing. Can you stand up for me?" Gently, she nudged her captain. "Erza, please. I need you to stand up."
Slowly, Erza obliged, still sobbing long, ugly sobs. She got up to her knees, wobbled a good bit, but finally stood up. Momo nudged her again, making her step away from the corpse she had been sitting on top of.
"Can you stand on your own?"
Erza slowly nodded. Momo nodded back. Quickly, she took off her jacket, turning it inside out, leaving her in her white under-shirt. She put the garment over the bloodied torso of the arrancar, covering up his mangled, maimed face.
"Erza, I need you to wait there for a second. Can you do that for me?"
Again, her captain nodded. Quickly, Momo hurried over to the horrified teenagers still staring on. This could be bad, Momo realized. None of them were likely to have seen the real brutality of war, and seeing Erza like that...
"Orihime," Momo said sharply, in her most authoritative voice, "I need your help."
"Oh. Um... oh?" said Orihime, seeming distracted, her eyes glued to Erza's swaying, sobbing figure.
"Listen up!" Momo said firmly. "Your mother needs you. She is in a lot of pain right now, of a kind I don't really understand- but very soon she will be in a kind of pain I do understand. She broke both her hands, Orihime. Now, I can take her back to Fourth Division while she's in pain and let her heal over the course of weeks- or you can fix her right here, right now."
"Well... I mean, sure," Orihime mumbled.
"I don't know what just happened," Momo said passionately, "but that is still the woman who took you in as her own when you were small and alone. Now, go in there and fix her!"
"Yes- of course!" Orihime squeaked, sounding a little ashamed. Quickly, she hurried to her mother's side.
"You," said Momo, pointing to Ichigo. "You still have your zanpakutou, right? You're not hurt?"
"Yes, and yes," Ichigo muttered, taken aback. "I mean, Orihime healed me..."
"You and the quincy, patrol the area. I don't want any more nasty surprises. I'll purify the hollow myself."
"Is that even possible?" said Chad.
"If he has a mask fragment, then it's not too late. Much better than having to dispose of it otherwise. You, big guy- stand guard right here. You're our heaviest hitter right now, it looks like." She shot Ichigo and Uryu a look. "What are you two waiting for, an invitation? Go patrol! If not for the Gotei, then for the safety of your town!"
She had spoken in her most authoritative tone, and it seemed to have worked. Neither of them looked too pleased with it, but right now, all that mattered was them being occupied with something, anything.
While Orihime healed Erza, the glow of her aura slowly restoring her mother to physical- if not mental- health, Momo walked over to the corpse and lifted her bloodied shihakusho jacket. It took quite a bit of effort, and her hands were bloodied sorting through the broken mess of meat and blood, but eventually she found a serviceable mask fragment. It took a couple of tries, but finally she managed to pierce if with her zanpakutou. For a moment she wondered if it was too late, but the arrancar's reiatsu was still fresh, and soon he began to dissipate. Momo breathed a sigh of relief.
Her hands soiled with drying blood, she wiped herself on the already bloody shihakusho jacket, and stood up straight.
"Is she all right?" she asked Orihime.
"She's... fine," Orihime said, something odd in her voice. "I fixed her hands and... oh god, there's so much blood."
"It'll vanish soon," said Momo. "It's made out of reishi just like everything else on an arrancar."
"That's... good," Orihime said weakly.
"Go find Ichigo and Uryu," Momo said firmly. "I'll see to Erza."
"Sure," Orihime said, sounding relieved.
As the teen girl hurried off, Momo walked up to Erza. The captain looked a bit more coherent now, but she still had a confused look on her face. The blood lifted from her face, dispersing along with the rest of the arrancar.
"Momo..." she said weakly, "I didn't..."
"Everything is going to be okay," Momo said reassuringly. "We're going to go back home, get you a shower and a good night's sleep. You'll feel better then."
Erza nodded weakly. She looks so... weak, Momo thought, so lost. What happened to her? She had her suspicions, but at this point, speculating wouldn't be helpful. Gently, she took her captain's hand, feeling Erza's strong, warm hand squeeze hers. Despite herself, Momo felt... happy, in the midst of all this horror.
Before long, Orihime came back with Ichigo and Uryu. Momo didn't command, but strongly suggested they all stick together on the way home, and the others obliged- except Uryu, who took off on his own. Momo didn't blame him. Chad was hard to read, but Ichigo and Orihime... Momo knew they had been close to Erza growing up, very close, and seeing her at her worst- worse than anything Momo had ever seen- had understandably affected them.
Chad eventually broke off and went on to his own home, leaving Ichigo and Orihime as they all walked to Erza's old apartment. After fumbling a bit with the keys, Orihime got them inside. After instructing Erza to take a shower, her captain obeying with the promptness and aptitude of a zombie, Momo stared down the two teenagers.
"So..." Ichigo said after an awkward pause, "I guess I have to say it if nobody else will. What the fuck was that?"
"It was just... I mean, what she was doing..." Orihime whimpered.
"Listen very carefully," Momo said sternly. "I know you've known her since you were both this high," she gestured just a few feet above the floor, "and she's still the same person who looked after you, who cares about you, who trained you and made you stronger and better. She loves you both. Don't forget that."
"...Of course," Ichigo muttered awkwardly, "but still..."
"I'm not going to go ahead and say that arrancar deserved it, because Erza would never say that," said Momo, "but you've known her all your life, both of you, and I've known her a lot longer than that, and she would never do anything like that normally. Something... different happened. What you just saw? That isn't who she is."
"Then what is it?" Orihime demanded, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. "When I healed her, she, she didn't even... she didn't even see me, Momo. She was lost!"
"I... she never told you much about her past, did she?" said Momo, biting her lip, wondering just how much Erza had shared and how much she, herself, should share.
"Barely anything," said Ichigo.
Momo sighed. "Something... happened to her way back."
"What?" Orihime demanded.
"It was before my time, and it's not my place to speculate," Momo said hastily, "but there's a well known tragedy. When she'd just graduated, her entire class got butchered by a Huge-class hollow. She and Rodrigo Sentry were the only survivors. She spent weeks in a hospital. I... don't know anything else and I won't speculate, but you have to realize that she's lived a hard life. You also have to realize she'd never, ever hurt you."
"Oh my god..." Orihime said, putting a hand over her mouth, tears welling up.
"...I guess that's why she didn't want to talk," Ichigo murmured, his voice heavy. "I always figured it was the Aizen thing..."
"For sure it was," said Momo, "but I don't want to stand here making assumptions about her- and neither should you. Ichigo, you go home. Come see her in the morning. No excuses. She's the kind of person who needs family to get through things like this. You may think she's strong, and she is, but she's... she's not unbreakable."
Momo said the words, only realizing they were true as she spoke them. Truth be told, her view of Erza had, thus far, been much the same as that of these children.
"Sure," Ichigo said, nodding slowly. "I'll, uh, I'll see you tomorrow, then. Good night, Orihime, Hinamori."
"Good night," Orihime said weakly.
"You go get some sleep," said Momo. "I realize this can't have been easy, but it hasn't been for her, either."
Orihime just nodded and went to her room, leaving Momo alone with her mind aflame.
The palace of eternal night was a grandiose sight for all who laid eyes on it, from within and from without, the result of millennia of building and expanding by hollow kings and warlords, monsters who had risen above monstrosity and celebrated it with the kind of vanity and arrogance that any human king would have displayed. This alone was proof positive that although separated by a wall of hate, violence, and brutality, there was an inescapable humanity to all of hollow-kind, however twisted.
Most of the new arrancar balked at the sight, the palace acting like an extension of the grandeur and awesome might of its new lord, Aizen Sousuke. It was no mistake that even lowly arrancar were given large, lavish rooms; every inch of the palace was to reflect power, grandiosity and excess. Nowhere would any hollow go in this place without being reminded of how small they were in comparison to their lord's power.
Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez did not balk, nor was he impressed. Although he wasn't filled with disgust or loathing, the pomposity of this place felt distasteful. Impure. A hollow did not stop being a hollow because it slept in a soft bed in a marble suite instead of hobbled down in a dirty, sandy den- in fact, the dirty, sandy den fit it like a glove whereas this luxury... this luxury was everything a hollow was not. Violence. Death. Brutality. The everlasting, constant chase for power. That was what being a hollow meant, and Aizen Sousuke was taking it away from them.
But philosophical disagreements aside, he could not deny the usefulness of this new state of being. He and his entourage were given new, powerful bodies, swords, and forms of power to go with it. But it couldn't stop there, because if Grimmjow settled, he would no longer be Grimmjow.
Currently he was splayed out on a divan in a common room claimed by his group, lazily stretched out like the feline creature he had not long ago been. His fracciones were spread around the room, D-Roy and Ylfordt arguing about something on the couch, Shawlong Qufang standing to attention by a column- now, there was a joyless bastard; in fact, that was one of the qualities Grimmjow valued the most about him- and Nakeem arm-wrestling with Edrad over a table, neither one giving the other an inch.
Bored, Grimmjow tossed a ball up into the air over and over, lazily catching it perfectly each time. His reflexes hadn't grown any duller in this new body, unfamiliar though it was. But sitting around, doing nothing... that wasn't his style.
"Boys!" he said loudly, suddenly sitting himself up. Instantly, his fracciones quieted down, all their eyes on him. They hadn't gone soft, that was always something- they knew to respect their king.
"My liege?" said Shawlong, bowing slightly.
"I been thinking," said Grimmjow, standing up, "an' by thinking I mean I got so damn bored I actually started usin' my head, which is usually a sign something's fucked up."
His fracciones all laughed, because even hollows know that laughing at your boss's jokes is good for your health, particularly if your boss can rip your head off. Some things are so inherently human, no amount of carnage can undo it.
"I assume my liege is growing weary of such a quiet existence?" said Shawlong, ever the diplomat. The others leaned on him, because brightness wasn't something one could accuse many of them of. Cunning was their way, not wisdom, and that was how it was supposed to be. Stopping to think got you all weird, like those vasto lordes- powerful, but too careful, their heads too full of ideas.
"Damn straight," said Grimmjow.
"Certainly nobody could accuse my liege of not having deserved a good rest," said Shawlong smoothly. "My liege paid the price of blood on the long road of death, as did we all, to get here. Aizen Sousuke-" he had learned not to call him Lord Aizen while they were all alone- "noticed my liege's natural ability. But of course, our liege did not rise to this status by resting on his laurels."
"Whatever the fuck that means, but yeah," said Grimmjow, "this place is drivin' me up the walls. We supposed to fuckin' sit around here on our asses till 'Lord' Aizen needs us?"
"We could always train, sire," said Edrad, who was not far behind Shawlong in intellect.
"Train!" spat Grimmjow. "Like that dumb bitch Neliel? Wonder boy Ulquiorra? Those dumb fucks forget where they came from. Hollows don't train. We fight till we're dead, or till we survive. The weak die, and the strong eat the weak to grow stronger. That's our way, and lookin' all human don't change what we been for as long as we can remember."
"Sure, sure, boss," said D-Roy, eager to please. "We ain't made to sit back!"
"Shut up," said Grimmjow dismissively. "Now, I ain't sure if you lot caught up, but bein' an espada has some perks. Like getting' those 'briefing' thingies. Word is, a bunch o' gillian losers got sent to the living world a bit ago. Chaff. Weak, but strong enough to put a dent in most shinigami."
"Such weaklings are being given leave to slaughter, while we do not?" scoffed Edrad. "How little does Aizen think of us?"
"Rather, I think," said Shawlong, "Aizen is careful not to reveal his hand too early. 'Strategy,' as it is called. He sends a group of weaklings to test the shinigami, to test the efficacy of his new soldiery without sacrificing anything important."
"They all got killed," Grimmjow said bluntly, "to a man. All ten of 'em. Apparently, the enemy didn't even lose a single one of their own. Arrancar, no matter how weak, could butcher most shinigami easily. So, what's that tell you, Ylfordt?"
Ylfordt, a bit surprised to be put on the spot, said, "Er, they must have been taken by surprise, sire."
"Could well be," said Grimmjow, nodding. "Shawlong, an answer that ain't stupid?"
"Certainly, my liege," said Shawlong. "The simple answer, of course, is that wherever they went had defenses sufficient to overcome ten gillian. Which, of course, implies that this place in particular has to have very powerful defenders, whether shinigami or otherwise."
"Exactly," Grimmjow said, licking his lips. "Karakura, it was called. Karakura Town. That's where we'd find good sport."
"Let's go right away, then!" D-Roy said eagerly. "Let's show them what we got, what real arrancar stand for!"
"No, you stupid fuck," Grimmjow said irritably. "Aizen's a stupid piece of shit, but he's strong. If we go without him approvin' it, he'll punish us. Now, me, I got his ear well enough. I'll talk to him. Shouldn't be too hard."
"Ask him?" said Nakeem. "King, ain't you out to dethrone him-"
"Shut yer fuckin' yap!" Grimmjow snarled. Lowering his voice, he continued, "Of course I'm tryin' to rise up the ladder. Everyone does that. But Aizen? That's a long term goal. We go through the likes of Nnoitra, Ulquiorra... and then when the time is right, and we all grow strong enough... bam!"
His fracciones cheered at the prospect.
"But for now," Grimmjow continued, "we play his game. We're all gonna be good boys. Not too good, but we do what we get told."
"Up the ladder of carnage," said Shawlong, "as it ought to be, sire. The patient hunter will be rewarded in the end. My liege will kill and eat his enemies, rise up and attain absolute power. Whether it be through brutality, through murder, through deceit and trickery, power shall be yours."
"Damn straight," said Grimmjow with a grin. Shawlong was flattering him, he knew that well enough, but he couldn't help but savour the thought- Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, triumphant, first among hollows, greatest, toughest and most vicious of all his kind...
"And we get the scraps, don't we?" said D-Roy excitably.
"Sure ya do," Grimmjow said, with the closest his tone ever got to affection. "Ain't no use in bein' king if you don't got any subjects, is there? And no subject of mine is ever gonna be weak!"
"Hear, hear!" Edrad rumbled.
"It's settled, then," Grimmjow said. "You boys sit tight. I'll petition myself an audience with the great lord Aizen. Karakura... now, there's a place to break these new bodies in."
When Erza woke, she felt sluggish, dull, and promptly went back to sleep. Eventually, though, she had to get up. As she sat up, her addled brain resisting every movement, she realized she wasn't in her division bedroom. She was on a couch, with a simple blanket and pillow. What? Where-
Then it came flooding back to her. Last night. The arrancar. Hanyval. And... it was a bit of a blur after that, but somehow she knew it hadn't gone well. Her head thumped, aching as she sat up straight.
"Good morning," came a quiet, gentle voice. It was Momo, setting down a cup of tea and a sandwich by the table next to the couch, "or I suppose I should say good afternoon."
"M-Momo," Erza stuttered, "what- what is the time?"
"Three in the afternoon."
"The division!" Erza croaked, horrified at the thought of nearly having missed a whole workday, and equally as eager to focus on something that was not the previous night.
"It's all been taken care of," Momo said reassuringly. "After you went to bed last night, I used a bit of kido to put you in a deep, long sleep, because god knows you needed it, and then I reported in to the Gotei about the arrancar invasion. I talked them into letting us stay behind a day to secure the area and investigate, but we're due to report back first thing in the morning."
"But-"
"Eat," Momo insisted, "and drink. You must be getting hungry."
Truth be told, she wasn't wrong, and Erza slowly reached for the sandwich, taking a bite of it and washing it down with a sip of tea.
"Momo... what happened last night?" she muttered. "I mean, I remember things, but... it's kind of... hazy."
Momo looked at her with concern. "What's the last thing you remember?"
"I was... I was fighting Hanyval. The arrancar. I was falling to the ground, and..."
She stopped herself as the memories started to come back.
"I... I beat him down and then I... then I..." she took a deep breath, trying not to lose focus. It felt like she was staring down an abyss, like she was being overtaken by darkness.
"Oh god, Momo... what did I do?"
Momo sat down next to her, and put an arm around Erza's waist. "It's okay," she said reassuringly. "It's not your fault."
Erza breathed heavily and leaned on Momo. She slowly started to calm down, to get a grip on the situation.
"He- he was-" she said awkwardly, choking on her words. "I mean, I wouldn't- I would never-"
"You don't have to explain," Momo said sincerely. "I don't care what you did. I'm still here. I always will be."
Erza swallowed, and nodded. After a little pause, she took another bite of her sandwich.
"...Did you tell them? In your report?" she finally asked.
"I told them you subjugated and thoroughly destroyed the leading arrancar," said Momo. "Those were my exact words."
"...Thanks."
"...You should probably go see Isane when you get back, though."
Erza nodded weakly. "The kids? Orihime?"
"I talked to them. Now, you don't have to, but I think you should talk to them. I don't think they ever expected to see... that."
Erza sighed. "Yes... yes, I guess I will." She turned to look at her vice-captain. "Thank you, Momo. For everything. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Oh, it was nothing," Momo beamed. "I mean... what's a vice-captain for?"
Ryuken, who had never been sick a day of his life, had lied to the hospital, had called in to say he had a bad cold, and had stayed at home the entire day. He had meant to use that time for something- for catching up on paperwork, perhaps, or for a bit of calligraphy, his one hobby, or at least for figuring out what to do next. Instead he had wound up staring out through an open window, slowly smoking one pack of cigarettes after another.
The quincies. He had had an inkling- although he had taken great care to remove himself from all matters spiritual- that there were others left out there, spared from the ravages of war. Hiding on the outskirts, dodging the Gotei's attention as best they could. It stood to reason. The quincies, if his mother were to be believed- and she had hardly been an objective source- had once numbered in the tens of thousands, spread all across the Earth.
Now one of them had shown up on his doorstep, intent on claiming his son. Thoughtfully, he slowly shook the ash off his cigarette into a nearly full ash tray, before taking another puff. He had hoped not to have to go here.
He heard the door close, and realized Uryu had gotten home from school. Was it that time already? He had lost track of time entirely. Lost in thought, he hadn't even remembered to eat lunch.
"Father," said Uryu, an urgency in his tone as he stepped into the living room, "we need to talk."
"Do we?" said Ryuken, taking out another cigarette, after putting the old one out.
"...How many have you had?" Uryu said, his tone unabashedly disapproving. "It smells like a chimney in here."
"None of your business."
Uryu shook his head. "Never mind. Father, last night-"
"Last night one of those despicable quincies saved your life, no doubt making quite an impression on your oh-so-impressionable mind. No doubt it has set your mind on fire with foolish notions of chivalry, honour, and virtue."
"You noticed?"
"Of course I noticed," said Ryuken irritably. "You all made enough noise to wake the dead. I may not practice the craft, but I have not lost my senses. Now, are you going to pull up a chair, or will you stand around there like an idiot?"
Looking a little befuddled, Uryu pulled up a chair, sitting himself opposite of Ryuken, who pulled out a lighter and lit his umpteenth cigarette.
"I hadn't expected you to be so forthcoming," said Uryu.
"Does this look like forthcoming to you?" said Ryuken, under no intention to make the conversation easy. He took a puff, blowing a cloud of smoke.
"You've barely said a word about the quincies for as long as I can remember. In fact, this might be more said even now than you ever have."
"Everything is relative, I suppose," Ryuken grumbled. "Yes, last night you were saved by a quincy. Last night your aunt and I made ready to bail your foolish self out of a situation well above your ability, when a quincy- and a powerful one, at that- barred our way. We were deliberately stopped, so that they could have the advantage of saving your life and using it as a bargaining chip to manipulate you into thinking favourably of them. This is the quincy way, Uryu- lies, deceit, and power plays."
Uryu stubbornly shook his head. "I'm not stupid enough to trust them off the bat, father. But all the same, they offered me only to know things- not to train with them or serve them."
"An easy first step," Ryuken scoffed.
"One you never took."
Ryuken shot his son a scrutinising look. "What did my father tell you about the quincies?"
"Not a lot specifically," Uryu admitted. "He spoke of the 'Great Starhost', the quincy armies of old. He told me, in broad strokes, our history. That our clan migrated here over five hundred years ago. That the quincies originated in what later became Germany, thousands of years ago. He... he told me as much as I could handle at that age, I think."
"I doubt if he would have told you much more even if he was still with us," said Ryuken cynically.
"It is all I know, because nobody else has told me," said Uryu accusingly, "and what I was told seemed... right. Heritage. Honour. Tradition. Grandfather told me of the five quincy virtues of our clan: Pride, Honour, Loyalty, Vigilance, and Purity. Tell me, father, what is so despicable about that?"
Ryuken paused, and blew a cloud of smoke before replying. "Do you think those are the five virtues of the Japanese quincies?"
"So grandfather told me."
"Then let me tell you what they are in full. I remember it well, because it was beaten into me, with a rod, when I was ten years younger than you are now.
"Be proud, for you are a quincy, a caste apart and above those who cannot walk in the light.
"Be honourable, for you must respect your fellow quincies and the timeless wisdom they represent.
"Be loyal, for there is only the clan, and nothing else is of greater import.
"Be vigilant, for you alone may shield your kind from the darkness of this world.
"Be pure, for we quincy alone are superior."
Ryuken paused, lost in unpleasant memory, the smoke slowly trailing up into the air.
"Those... are the quincy beliefs? Of our clan?" said Uryu, with disbelief.
"Be proud," repeated Ryuken, "for you are better than everyone else. Be honourable, but only toward your own kind, and damn everyone else. Be loyal to the clan, no matter what they've done. Be vigilant, because the world is filled with dirty inferiors, and only being paranoid about it stops you from dying out. Be pure, because you are better than the untermensch that is everyone without power."
He looked his son in the eye, with a gaze of steel.
"Those are the beliefs beaten into me, Uryu. My upbringing was one of zealotry, paranoia, hatred, and misery. A bunch of halfway inbred misfits who hated everyone outside their immediate group and thought themselves bound for some manifest destiny where they stand as overlords for all mankind- ignoring, of course, that the shinigami could have butchered them all in an afternoon, that they were a shadow of what they once were."
"But, grandfather-" Uryu objected.
"Tell me, Uryu," Ryuken interrupted him, "how is your world history?"
"I get straight As in almost everything," Uryu said impatiently, "but what does that have to do with-"
"Then you should know what Nationalsozialistiche Deutsche Arbeiterparti means, do you not?"
"National socialists... yes, of course I do."
"They ruled over Germany with an iron fist, oppressing or killing all who dared oppose them. You've heard of the Second World War, I believe?"
"What does that have to do with-"
"During that time," Ryuken continued as if his son hadn't spoken at all, "there was a businessman who, despite having nothing to gain and everything to lose, put himself into financial ruin saving over a thousand Jewish people from the holocaust. In a country succumbed to darkness, there was such a radiant act of selflessness and common decency. That, Uryu, is what your grandfather was like. A single nugget of decency, honour, and humanity in a sewer of toxicity, loathing, and ignorance."
"Was it... that bad?" Uryu said, having difficulty processing the idea.
"If I had taken my place as heir, do you know what would have happened? I would be raising you, with an iron fist, to take my place as heir. I'd have arranged for you a marriage with a cousin of yours, to keep our bloodline 'pure'. I would have been married to your aunt, leading our clan toward a destiny of greatness- well, in reality just scrambling for snippets of power we had no claim to, hoping to god that nobody powerful noticed us. You would have had virtually no freedom. You would have been bound to the wishes and desires of your clan, all notions of independence subordinate to the needs of the clan."
"You... you have to be exaggerating," Uryu objected, anger creeping into his tone. "I don't know what you went through, but-"
"Is that the kind of man you're becoming, Uryu?" said Ryuken sharply. "The kind who rejects any information inconvenient to your world view? Because if so, you would have fit right in. Does it rattle you that much, the idea that your grandfather would have been party to such a vile belief system?"
"He was not vile!" Uryu said heatedly.
"No," Ryuken agreed, "he was not. Do not blame him, and do not blame me. None of us choose our parents or the values they instill on us. If you feel the need to foolishly engage in idolizing the past instead of looking forward, then rejoice in the fact that despite having been raised on the idea of supremacism, he still turned out a good man. A fool and a naïve idealist, but a good man still."
"I..." said Uryu, not sure what to come back with.
"Would you like me to stop, now that your glorious past turns out to not be all that glorious?" said Ryuken sardonically. "The truth, my son, is that you weren't being denied your heritage- you were being spared of it. Be grateful for it."
"I don't want you to stop," said Uryu, his voice low. "Even if.. even if I don't believe everything you say, I want to know."
"As you please," Ryuken said with a shrug. "What else is there you wish to know? I've already said as much as I care to say about our inglorious cult of a clan."
"What happened to them? What happened to you, why did you leave?"
Ryuken sighed. "Two questions at once? Very well, then. You see, your aunt, whom I was slated to marry and produce loads of genetically defective babies with, came from a... different background. Her parents were of a more liberal persuasion. There are a lot of details that I will skip entirely, but as you know, she wound up choosing that fool Isshin. One of our own, a pureblood quincy, literally in bed with a shinigami, our most ancient and hated enemy. He had lost his powers, certainly, but the clan elders were never ones for nuance. Calling it a scandal would be an understatement."
"Then what happened?" Uryu said urgently.
"A breaking point," said Ryuken slowly, taking a deep puff on his cigarette. "It was considered intolerable. It was agreed amongst clan leadership that action had to be taken. Not long after her relationship had been made known, my own mother told me it was my duty to kill her, to maintain our honour."
"Kill... Masaki?" said Uryu in disbelief. His father appeared quite sincere, his eyes narrowed with contained anger.
"Yes. Kill her personally, as heir to the clan. The issue, of course, is that my father hadn't raised a mindless drone with neither conscience nor restraint."
He looked Uryu in the eye.
"As disgusting as it may seem to some people, I would have gladly married her. I sincerely... loved her. She was the one thing in that miserable cult of misfits I found tolerable. With her at my side, I would have accepted my role. But with her on the loose..."
He shook his head, and took a deep breath.
"I made a choice there and then. I told them it was over. I told them I would no longer do their bidding. I told them that if a single hair on her shoulder was ever touched, if I ever had any reason to believe she had been hurt, if she died... then I'd kill each and every single one of them. The looks on their faces...
"I can't believe it," Uryu muttered.
"Of course you can't. At any rate, they didn't take me seriously at first. Then I shot one of their best enforcers, and suddenly they listened. Mother screamed at me. I was an ungrateful, shameful, disgraceful traitor of a son, and how dared I turn my back on our glorious legacy... but I didn't listen. I left. And they took my threats seriously, because not one of them came close to the power I had earned. I could have killed them all, and if they had come close to her, I would have."
He balled his fist, and although his voice was level, neutral, Uryu knew his father was... irked.
"Do you know why I became a doctor, Uryu? It was not out of some notion of atoning for past sins."
"No, that would be sentimental," said Uryu, knowing how his father felt about such ideas.
"That it would. I became a doctor to spite them. Across my career, I have saved thousands of lives, directly or indirectly, lives that my wretched family would have considered inferior and unworthy."
"As good a motivation as any," said Uryu sarcastically.
Ryuken shrugged. "If the end result is good, who cares why we do it?"
"Was that it, then?" Uryu insisted.
"I moved out and never spoke to them. I married the one woman who had the nerve to stand by me in the face of her clan. Aside from my father, I cut all contact with them. Sometime when you were young, they had the bright idea of kidnapping Masaki's children. Masaki and Erza made short work of them. I sensed them all die, the last remnants of a lost clan well past its expiration date, and I felt relief. That left only myself, Masaki, and you. That felt right. The world does not need quincies."
"You're wrong," Uryu said passionately. "Maybe your family was evil and vile, but with that kind of power- with that kind of power you can make a difference, you can save lives, you can-"
"Spoken like a teenager with a saviour complex," Ryuken said, shaking his head. "Uryu, I know I have not been a great father. I was never well suited for the role. But believe me when I tell you that this entire business with spirits, ghosts, hollows, and quincies... it brings nothing but misery, and it won't pay your bills. Whoever these people are, you cannot allow yourself to trust them."
"And if I go to them anyway?"
Ryuken shrugged. "A couple of hundred years ago, you would have been considered a man at your age. If you want to seek them out, I won't stop you. But as your father, as somebody concerned for your future, I warn you- seek out something productive. Become a doctor, or a lawyer, or a businessman. It may sound awfully boring, but it will give you a life far more fulfilling than chasing some abstract ideal, and it won't put you in an early grave."
Uryu leaned back, his mind abuzz. This was exactly what he had wanted from his father all these years. To know what he knew. To know where he had come from, what the quincies really were. Even if his father had exaggerated- and it was clear he was bitter- Uryu didn't believe he had fabricated all this.
The quincies, his family, a mad cult of supremacists. As far removed from the gallant heroism he had imagined as could be. And in the midst of all this, these mysterious knights, the Wandenritter, a name he had only heard of in passing as a legend. What was he to do?
"I'll... I think I'll go," he mumbled awkwardly.
"Go do your homework," said Ryuken. "Study hard. Become someone useful. And never ask me about the quincies again."
Uryu simply nodded, and walked away.
The marble pillars were all around them, a familiar and reassuring sight in such a time of emotional turmoil. Erza did not relish being back here in her zanpakutou's realm, though; in fact, she almost dreaded it. Tetsu no Tama was a prideful being, and she knew he would not approve of her actions.
Still, the one way to make things worse would be to stand still hesitant. It was a sure way to be called a mewling coward, and Erza wouldn't even have disagreed. Failure was part of life, and owning it was the only way to go. Determinedly, she marched toward his throne, facing her zanpakutou. He had a grim, stern expression, sitting rigidly still with his arms rested on the sides of his throne, his gaze peering into her very mind.
The realm, which was normally bright, had grown dark as if obscured by thunderclouds. Tetsu no Tama's expression matched this change of pace, his brows furrowed into a furious scowl. Quietly, Erza stared back, standing right before the short steps leading up to his throne.
"Have you nothing to say for yourself?" he demanded after a short pause.
"I believe you have plenty to say without my adding to the conversation," Erza said, gritting her teeth with the anticipation of an employee not sure if she was about to be fired or not.
"So I have!" burst Tetsu no Tama out angrily. "I relish the destruction of our enemies, I do, and under normal circumstances I would congratulate you on such a visceral show of dominance. Yet last night, fool, last night I called out to you and you did not hear. I spoke to you, and when you did not hear, I raised my voice. I shouted till my throat was sore, and yet you still did not hear!"
"My apologies-"
"Be SILENT!" he snapped. "A core demand of our agreement, Erza Scarlet, was that you know yourself, be honest with yourself, and act accordingly. Yet last night you knew nothing, thought nothing, acted wholly on instinct like an animal while ignoring the call of your blade. With such a master, I might as well be sworn to Zaraki Kenpachi!"
That stung, and Erza winced, but she didn't disagree. Groveling was not the way, though; he thought of that was a sign of weakness.
"I... lost control," Erza said, taking a deep breath. "I was wrong to do so, and I swear it will not happen again."
Suddenly, he stood up, appearing to tower over her. "Won't it? What guarantee do I have from a fool like yourself that it will not happen again? You earned bankai, the long, hard way around. You earned my respect. This should be well beneath you!"
"It is!" Erza protested. "I slipped once. I... I don't know why, but I can control myself!"
"You evidently cannot," he said sharply, staring down at her with cold fury in his eyes, his demeanour, and his tone.
"It has never happened before, and it will never happen again," said Erza adamantly.
"What meaning does your word have to me now, Erza? When you would not hear my voice?"
"It is the word of your master!" Erza snapped. She saw the icy cold look on Tetsu no Tama's face and realized she had gone wrong, but she couldn't stop.
"It's the word of your partner, your shinigami, the one who bled and fought to gain your trust, the one whose life is dependent on your edge. It is the word of the one person who understands you and cares about you. That is the word I ask you to trust, that and that alone!"
Tetsu no Tama stared at her, and Erza breathed heavily, desperate to hear him speak, retort.
"You are no master of mine," he said at last, his voice strangely flat and dispassionate.
He hadn't called her 'master' once, she realised. Not 'fool master', as he did when he was displeased with her- and he usually was- just 'fool'.
"Who else earned your trust?" she demanded.
He shook his head.
"You are no master of mine, Erza Scarlet. Not until you've shown you are worthy."
"I am worthy!"
"You are not!" he burst out furiously. "You are not, and your childish insistence to the contrary only cements that as truth! Henceforth, Erza Scarlet, I will not lend you my power. Make your way in this world without me!"
"N-no!" Erza burst out. "No, Tetsu no Tama, I- I need you-"
"Begone!" he thundered. Around her, the landscape turned into long streaks, and she realised she was being cast out, the palace growing distant in a matter of seconds.
"Tetsu no Tama!" she cried, but the zanpakutou did not appear to hear her.
The shock took some time to adjust to. She had immediately after returning to reality tried to hear her blade's voice, to speak with him, to convince him. He wasn't gone; she could still sense his presence, but he stubbornly refused to answer her calls. With increasing fervency, she called upon him, pleading, demanding, trying anything, but it was for naught.
She had lost touch with him. It was like being shut out by one's best friend- or worse, because the bond between zanpakutou and user was something intimate, a deep connection only those who had could ever understand.
What was almost as bad, she realized as she stared at the edge of her blade, was that she couldn't use her bankai. She couldn't even summon her shikai. For all intents and purposes, her sword was really just a sword. She felt no weaker, her raw strength and skill seeming unchanged, but the powers her blade granted... were gone.
She took a few minutes to breathe, calming her mind. This couldn't be the end of it. He was a proud, unruly spirit, and he would often test her. She would overcome this. She had to.
The world kept spinning. No matter what tragedies anyone suffered, human or shinigami, rich or poor, black or white, this was an immutable fact. The afternoon passed, whether Erza liked it or not. Eventually, she had to deal with the realities of life. She made tea. She meditated. She had supper. Life went on, because it had to, because life didn't care what one's grievances were.
So it was that not long after supper, Orihime came around, Ichigo and Tatsuki in tow. Erza had almost forgotten, occupied as she was, but her daughter was owed an explanation of the previous night- and so, she supposed, were the others. She waited, sitting cross-legged on the couch, as the three of them were led into the living room by Momo. They took a seat opposite of her, chairs pulled up in anticipation.
"Would you like me to leave?" said Momo quietly.
"Stay, please," Erza responded, gesturing to the couch. Momo nodded, and sat down. Awkwardly, Erza stared down the teenagers.
"Um, look," Tatsuki said nervously. "I... I mean, this kinda stuff is family business, right? I don't want to intrude here. I dunno what last night was, but..." She trailed off.
"No," said Orihime firmly, putting a hand on Tatsuki's, "I want you to stay here."
Erza looked at her daughter. There was a determination in her eyes. She looked carefully, and felt relieved to not see any fear; the thought of her daughter afraid of what Erza was would have been unbearable. That didn't mean things were fine and dandy, though.
She looked over to Ichigo, who was staring down into the floor, fists balled. He took long, deep breaths, his shoulders heaving. He hid it well enough, but this meeting made him more uncomfortable than it did Tatsuki.
Erza took a deep breath, put her feet down on the floor, and looked at the three of them.
"I am myself," she started out, forcing her voice to carry steadily. "I... I was not last night, but I am now. I haven't lost my mind."
As far as first sentences came, 'I promise I'm not a mental case' wasn't the best of starts, but it had to be said nonetheless.
"Still, you have to wonder. What compelled me to do something so..."
"Savage. Brutal," Ichigo said.
"...Yes, that," Erza nodded.
"Be quiet and let her speak, Ichigo," said Orihime, politely but firmly. Ichigo grunted and shrugged.
"I never kill if I can avoid it," said Erza, measuring her words carefully, "but sometimes you have to. But I've never done anything like that ever before. This..." She shook her head. "This was like nothing I've ever done."
Orihime nodded encouragingly.
"I... well, the reason it happened..."
She took another deep breath, old memories swelling back into her mind. She felt Momo's hand on hers, and focused.
"I was nineteen years old when I died," she said, focusing on the facts, on telling an impartial summary of history, not on somebody's tragic past. "Although I came from a whole other world, this is the afterlife I wound up in. How, I do not know. Within the year, I had joined the shinigami academy. Five years I spent there, earning good grades, a promising future, and... friends."
She was still holding together, but the memory of those faces, of the graves where they rested, was still sore like a wound not yet healed.
"I was just about twenty-five, I think. We had just finished our schooling. Our entire class went on a real patrol in the world of the living, to ease us into the duties we were going to have as shinigami. It was... a sure thing. The odds of something going wrong? Astronomical." She shook her head.
Orihime was on the edge of her seat, her eyes fixated on Erza. Tatsuki seemed to have forgotten about her nervousness, and even Ichigo had looked up.
"I'm not going to tell you all the details, because they're mine to keep," said Erza slowly, forcing out each word, "but there was a hollow. Huge-class. Well outside the grasp of even our tutors. I was just a young shinigami, new to the craft. So were we all. I... rallied my group to fight it. I gave them hope. We banded together, fought, and then they all died. I saw every good friend I'd made across five years of schooling be butchered before my eyes. Eaten. Torn apart. Ripped to pieces. I can still remember the way their blood stained the ground..."
Momo's hand squeezed hers, and she stole a glance at her vice-captain. There were tears in her eyes.
"It nearly broke me. My doctor later told me I'm the kind of person who needs other people to stay healthy, that I can't handle loneliness... and it's true. I loved them, and I watched them die. I still carry it with me."
"That's why you never talk about your past?" said Ichigo.
"One of the reasons," Erza said with a nod. "I try to look forward. On that day, Rod and I were the only survivors. I spent weeks in a hospital trying to cope. Eventually I got back on my feet, but..."
Her voice broke a little, and she sighed, taking in a deep breath.
"...A lot happened since then. This isn't the only thing I'd rather not talk about. So, I won't. I'll just skip to the main point: the hollow I faced yesterday, the one you saw me... beat to death, it was..."
"The same one that killed your friends," Orihime said quietly.
Erza nodded weakly. "I've never done anything like this before, and I never will. But when I saw him... when I heard his voice, when I remembered all... all those people..."
She choked a little, somehow managing to compose herself enough to keep speaking.
"When I realized who he was, something... went wrong with me. I'm ashamed that it happened, but I... I couldn't help it. I..."
"That's enough," Ichigo said quietly. "I... I get it. I don't... what you did was, I mean... it was..."
"I know," Erza said and nodded.
"But I can't judge, I get that now," Ichigo continued, "because I haven't been there. I know... if I lost everyone I cared about, I'd be crushed. Just thinking about it... shit, Aunt Erza, that's... I mean, I can't even imagine it. So... I get it. Or, I mean, I don't get it. But, um, what I mean to say is..."
"He means it's all okay," said Tatsuki. "I mean, obviously we're not all okay here, but, um..."
"I understand what you mean," Erza said, taking a few deep breaths, feeling relieved. "It isn't something kids your age should have to see, and I'm sorry."
"There's a war coming," Momo chimed in, "and you'll see worse there if you don't get out of its way."
There was an awkward silence.
"So... yeah," Erza muttered after a while. "That was... my past. Part of it, at least. I never talked about it because... well, stuff like this makes you want to focus on the things that make you happy. Like watching you three grow up. Watching over you. Doing my job. Training."
Orihime stood up and resolutely walked over to Erza, sitting herself down next to her mother. She leaned in, locking her arms around Erza, and Erza awkwardly returned the hug with one arm.
"I'm so, so sorry," she whispered. "You carried this all alone by yourself for so long."
"I wasn't all alone. If I had been, I don't think I'd even be here right now. I had Masaki, and Isshin, and I had you guys. I even had Yoruichi and that shady Urahara."
She managed a smile, Momo's hand still in hers, Orihime still holding on to her. This hadn't been a pleasant trip down memory lane, but at the end of it, her most precious people were still there for her.
From a control room covered in screens and panels, Aizen reviewed the data. Szayel Aporro was engaged in fervent activity in the background, a dozen of his assistants aiding him as he categorized the new information, breaking it down into digestible parts. Aizen, himself, stood fascinated as he watched the measured reishi output from Hanyval last night, from when he had arrived in the town until he'd died. He found himself wishing he had the time to head this project himself; he would make a far better director than Szayel. But being a ruler meant one only had so much free time, and the hollows, arrancar or no, needed a firm hand ruling over them, else they might return to their feral ways.
"Lookin' real fascinatin', by the looks of it."
It was Gin, having crept up quietly in the room. Aizen had barely noticed it, but gave no indication of surprise.
"You can read this data, Gin?"
"Me? 'Course not. I ain't no scientist. But yer lordship was starin' at it almost like you was in a trance. Bound t' be real interestin', I reckoned."
"You reckon correctly," Aizen conceded. "Yesterday's field test was a tremendous success. We have obtained a host of data that will prove invaluable for the future."
"Worth throwin' away ten arrancar for?"
"Obviously," said Aizen, knowing full well Gin was testing him; the man would know damned well he would not make such a move by mistake. It would be a blunder completely uncharacteristic of him.
"They were gillian, each one of them. Chaff. Picked from amongst the weakest."
"An' one of 'em jus' so happened t'be the one that murdered Erza's friends all that time ago. Yer a cruel one, Captain Aizen."
He had deduced as much from the reaction Erza'd had, just like Gin, but the truth of it was... "Not at all. Coincidence, as it happens, is a real force in all of the realms. I had no knowledge of this, nor did I expect her to be in Karakura at that time. Not that it would have made a difference. The test was necessary."
"'Course. Not one fer sentiment, you are."
"Was there a point to this, Gin?" said Aizen, his eyes narrowing. He was in no mood to play the psychopath's games.
"Just keepin' myself up to date, is all," said Gin with a shrug. "I was just wonderin' what use we get out o' weaklings like those."
"Quite a lot, in fact. They performed exactly as well as I expected. None of them, I believe, would have been able to defeat their opponents in a hundred years if they had not been transformed. Here, it was only their own arrogance that stopped them from achieving victory."
"And ya ain't gonna test the big guns? Seems a bit odd t'me, captain."
"I have no intention of revealing my hand early. With a mind like Urahara Kisuke's aligned with the Gotei, the less information available to our enemies, the better. If they knew exactly how powerful my five best are..."
He smiled to himself, imagining the looks on their faces. If only they knew just how assured their doom is.
"If they knew, they would tremble. But they might also devise a way to counteract their abilities, capitalize on any weaknesses they have. They will learn the nature of my arrancar; that is inevitable, but I will keep from them the true extent of my strength."
"Make sense," Gin said, "if only ya can keep 'em interested till then."
"You doubt my ability to lead?"
"Oh, no, not at all, Captain Aizen," said Gin, sounding too sincere for it not to be sarcasm, "but ya know how it is. Hollows are hollows. Ya can't just waltz in and tell 'em to not act on their nature. Eventually... somebody will slip up."
"Then that somebody will learn what happens when they defy me," Aizen said simply. "Szayel, how goes the data retrieval?"
"Well, lord," said Szayel excitably, "I will be able to give you a preliminary report within three days at most."
Aizen nodded. "Take the time necessary. I want a full review of their combat capacity. Account for their personal failings as much as possible; I want to reduce unknown variables almost totally."
"Yes, lord."
"And Szayel... do not fail me in this."
The arrancar glanced at him, a malicious grin on his face. "Lord, you have given me the capacity to pursue knowledge in ways I never thought possible. You will have your knowledge, because it is my desire."
"See to it, then."
Szayel bowed and returned to his work. He was certainly motivated, and all without needing to be intimidated. Some, if not all of his arrancar knew their place.
He continued to stare at the data. Such tremendous power... all unlocked by the hougyoku. With personal skill and training added, he would have an unstoppable army. The Gotei would fall, and from its ashes would rise a new order. His order. And the arrancar... well, some of them would be worth keeping.
Well now, I bet you guys didn't see THAT coming now did you? Yes, Erza has indeed lost acess to her shikai and her bankai. Now I want to make it clear that she has NOT gotten any weaker in the amount of reiatsu in her base form. She is still captain tier. She's by no means a weakling but the battles ahead are bound to be more difficult. I hope that this helps mix things up a bit.
I know this chapter was a bit slow, but don't worry, we'll be picking up the pace soon. You'll get some really good action soon I promise.
But in the meantime, please let me know what you thought of this chapter in the reviews. It really does mean a lot to us and lets us know if the changes we are doing are for better or worse.
Thanks for reading.