Well everyone, here we are once again with another chapter. Im very interested to see what you all think of the events that will transpire this time around. Not much else to say at the moment, so lets get things started!
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 yawned, and tiredly began to wolf down a piece of toast, pausing only to sip her honeyed tea. Erza had done much the same already, and was working on a second slice of toast. Her basic needs satisfied, and certainly fully awake at this point, Erza turned to look at Orihime, cheerfully working her way through her cinnamon-and-salmon porridge.
"Enjoying that?" she muttered with a smile.
"It's great!" Orihime said cheerfully.
"And school?"
"I'm doing just fine," said Orihime, "the usual. Boys staring, girls gossiping, classes all day, lunch, listening to your teacher, taking notes… it's not really that unusual. Not compared to… well, y'know." She shrugged, and Erza knew what she meant. School had to seem quite trivial compared to preparing for an upcoming war. But all in all, it was just small talk. Erza had, vainly, hoped to somehow segue into what she really wanted to talk about, but as usual she lacked the social skills to do so.
"Look," said Erza, "about… yesterday."
"Mathematics, English, Japanese, and then… biology, I think," said Orihime, "or was it quantum physics? I can't seem to remember."
"Not school," said Erza, mildly annoyed. "Yesterday, you met with Grimmjow, didn't you?"
"Oh. Oh! Yes, yes I did," Orihime said, nodding energetically.
"Well?" said Erza. She had hoped the issue would be obvious, but of course, this being Orihime, it was not. That, or the girl was playing coy.
"Well?"
"Look," Erza said with a sigh, "you restored his arm."
"Oh. Yes, I did do that."
"Orihime," Erza said firmly, "do you see the issue here?"
"No?"
"Captain Soifon was livid," Momo chimed in. "She was fuming, in that quiet, controlled way she fumes, you know? Where she's really calm-looking, but has the meanest look on her and you feel like she'll throw you in jail any moment. She said-"
"Suffice it to say that Captain Soifon was quite concerned," Erza cut in before Momo could describe it in full detail. Soifon had been livid. She had called it a severe breach of security, which, technically speaking, wasn't wrong. Erza considered it lucky that she was in the stealth corps commander's good graces, or she would have had to explain herself to Yamamoto the very same night.
"Why?" said Orihime.
"Orihime, we had to spend an hour renewing the spell keeping him in check, because the sudden surge of power broke the seal," Erza said gently. "Thus far, you've been allowed to see him because you're my daughter. As a privilege of sorts, because it did no harm and because you're trusted. But this… this was a good bit more than that."
And, to be fair, because she'd had a benevolent effect on his mood, making him easier to work with.
"I'm sorry if it caused you any trouble."
"Orihime," Erza said patiently, "I get that you're nice and I get that you care about people. I bet you thought it was the… right thing to do-"
"Wasn't it?"
"You gave a murderous, homicidal monster back powers to rival my own," Erza said severely. "I'm sorry, but under 'right things to do', that doesn't quite fall in the same column as that."
"You're wrong," said Orihime firmly, and Erza recognized the stubborn conviction of her voice. It was something much too similar to Erza, herself.
"I'm… wrong?" said Erza. "Orihime, normally you could have been charged with a crime. You're only lucky I managed to talk Soifon out of it."
"Yes, you are wrong," Orihime said, putting her spoon down and looking up from her bizarre porridge. "He's not a monster. He thinks he is, and he's had to be one for a very long time, but it's not who he has to be. He was very, very sad, Erza- so beaten and broken that he couldn't even find it in him to sneer at me. It was the saddest sight I've ever seen. He's lost everything he wanted. What did you feel like when all your friends died?"
"Orihime!" Erza said sharply, anger flaring at the mention. It was not something to evoke lightly, just for the sake of an argument. She stared into Orihime's eyes with the kind of furious, steely gaze that made Ichigo go weak in the knees.
"I said what did you feel like?" Orihime insisted, staring right back at her. "It was the worst thing you ever felt, wasn't it? I'm sorry to bring it up, I really am, but he's gone through the exact same thing. And he's feeling just like you did. Only he didn't understand it, and still doesn't, really. He needed something."
Erza paused, and bit back a harsh response. She briefly looked to Momo, hoping she might interject with some conciliatory remark, but her girlfriend very suddenly seemed absolutely fascinated by her toast.
"Look," she said at last, "I know you see the best in people. That's one of the things I love about you. But we're talking about a murderer, someone really dangerous."
"Is he out of control?"
"No," Erza admitted. "The spell holds, and he's not going to go back to Aizen even if it didn't. But, still. Orihime, you can't be this trusting," Erza said, shaking her head.
"Doesn't everyone deserve a second chance?"
"Maybe some do."
"Erza," Orihime said gravely, "tell me that you believe he's just a monster, and nothing else. Tell me there's nothing worth trying to save."
"Well…" Erza said evasively. She had seen the former espada's grief, herself, and she knew he was more than a monster. "Look, you have to ask me first about things like these, okay?"
"That's what I thought," said Orihime proudly, "and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause you any trouble. It was just what seemed right at the time."
"Don't meddle like this again," Erza warned her. "Please, Orihime. I can't stand the thought of the Gotei doing anything to you, and I'd rather not be the kind of person who uses her power to bail out her family."
"I promise," Orihime said solemnly, placing her hand over heart, "no more doing things rashly without asking for permission first. Just like you never would, Erza."
"Don't get smart with me, young lady," Erza said sharply, but the edge had gone from her voice, and she broke into a smile. "…Do you really think he's worth the chance?"
"You'll never know until you give it," said Orihime, returning to her porridge.
Erza sat back, thoughtfully chewing back the last of her stale toast. Redemption? For the likes of Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez?
Uryu wiped the sweat from his brow, and took a seat on a fallen log near the overgrown glade where Haschwalth had asked to meet. His clothes had gotten dirty from sweat, dust, and dirt, and the log was uncomfortable and uneven, but none of it seemed to matter. He felt good.
Today, Haschwalth had requested to attend their training session, to observe it from afar. Uryu supposed the grand master was curious about his progress, and had said yes without hesitation. Bambietta had tagged along, naturally complaining about it every step of the way. Meninas had worked him hard, harder than usual, but Uryu had handled himself every step of the way. In a few weeks of training, he had reached levels of precision he had previously only dreamed of. It wasn't that he was getting stronger, per se- he was getting better. The bow was sealed to the cross around his wrist, and he breathed heavily as Meninas, smiling brightly, sat down next to him. He took a minute just to breathe in and out, wiping his brow several times again. He was red in the face, sweat trailing down his forehead freely.
"Well?" said Meninas expectantly, sounding quite pleased with herself.
"It wasn't dogshit," said Bambi with a shrug, "I guess. For a rookie like him."
"What Paladin Basterbine means to say," Haschwalth said smoothly, "is that we are fairly impressed. You have exceeded expectation, young Ishida."
"Fairly impressed?" Meninas said.
"He has done quite well under your tutelage," Haschwalth replied.
"He's done more than well," Meninas said insistently. "You've performed excellently, Uryu."
"Geez, get a room," Bambi snorted.
"You listen here-" Meninas started, but Haschwalth cut her off.
"It is not customary to overpraise a quincy in training, lest their ego swell to unhealthy levels," said Haschwalth, "but yes, I suppose it would be fair to admit you have done more than well."
"Prodigiously," Meninas said.
"Sensei, you're embarrassing me," Uryu said, glad to already be quite red in the face.
"She is not wrong," Haschwalth said with a shrug. "You are on a path of considerable excellence. But, do not forget that if you stray from it-"
"Then my pride will swallow me whole, and acting ignobly and with selfish cause, I shall become my own worst enemy," Uryu said.
Haschwalth paused, and nodded slowly. "You have learned from the catechisms of knightly virtues."
"I have asked my sensei about your order from time to time," Uryu said with a nod. "She spoke, and I listened."
Haschwalth raised an eyebrow, and Meninas spoke, flustered.
"The wisdom of our king is not wasted on him, grand master. I would never share it with the unworthy-"
With a gesture of the hand, Haschwalth silenced her. "On the contrary to your concerns, Meninas, I quite agree. It surprised me, briefly, but it is a proper extension of your tutelage. As we progress our strength of arm, our strength of mind must match the pace of our limbs."
"I recognize that, too," said Uryu with a nod. "Sensei told me it was from… the second book, third chapter."
"Quite accurate," said Haschwalth.
"I've been thinking," said Uryu. "I've learned about your virtues. Mercy. Justice. Fidelity. Kindness. Strength, to do harm and to know when not to. Restraint. They are… everything I once believed the quincies to be. The memory of my grandfather's family was sullied by the truth of his actions, but learning the virtues of the order he once pledged allegiance to has washed the stain from my memory. Learning it… somehow, it makes me feel whole. Glad to be as I am."
"Geez," Bambi snorted. "You'd think-"
His hand moving as swiftly as a striking snake and as softly as a falling lead, Haschwalth placed a hand over her mouth.
"It lightens my heart to hear you say that, young Uryu. But, I can't help but feel as if you have more to say still. Am I correct?"
"I… do," Uryu said, hesitation in his voice. "Grand master, I am ready to learn more. I will not pledge myself to your organization, not yet, but I wish to learn more. I wish to learn what it truly entails to be of the Wandenritter. I am grateful for your training, and I hope I do not ask for too much. If it is too much to ask, I will understand."
"Young Uryu," Haschwalth said with a smile, "we always wished for you to learn your true heritage. I would not deny you this."
Uryu felt his heart soar. "So…"
"Grand master," Meninas said hesitantly, "I'm not sure it's time yet. He is still young; he still has a life…"
"Your concern is noted," Haschwalth said gently, "but we're far from that juncture yet, paladin. I have a simple suggestion. For this Friday, I could book us all a flight to Germany. A weekend spent at the castle is hardly very committal, is it?"
"Christ, that place…" Bambi muttered, prying Haschwalth's hand from her face. "He'd probably like it, too, he's that much of a stiff. I don't wanna go back, damn it! This place has shopping malls and cute dolls and all the manga you could want-"
"You mean porn," Meninas cut in.
"That, too!"
"So, stay behind," Haschwalth said. "We'll need somebody to keep an eye out, anyway." He turned to Uryu. "What say you, aspirant?"
Uryu nodded fiercely. "And I'll be back in time for school?"
"By Sunday night. You may have to deal with some jet-lag, but that's it."
"Then, let's do it," Uryu said excitedly. "Show me castle Vanden. Show me your order."
"It is settled," Haschwalth said approvingly.
"Oh, this will be such fun," Meninas said cheerily. "There are so many people I have to introduce you to!"
"Oh," Haschwalth added, "yes, young Uryu, do expect that she will parade you around and tell everyone who will listen about you. She's very proud of everyone she teaches."
"I think… I can live with that," Uryu said with a smile. "Right. This weekend. I'm good with that."
He felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Deep inside him, his father's warnings still gnawed at him, but at the same time… he had never felt so right in his life. It couldn't possibly hurt to learn a little more, could it?
The thrust came in quickly, hard and fast. The tip of Lanza's blade cut through Neliel's guard by the slimmest margin, the blade sliding in toward her skull. She edged her head to the side in the nick of time, and the strength of her hierro saved her from anything harsher than a scratch on the cheek. She batted his blade aside, and Lanza readied for another attack, but Neliel held her hand up.
"Break!" she demanded. Obediently, Lanza stopped his strike and lowered his blade, taking a step back.
"I apologize, quinta," he said politely. "I should have measured my strike better."
The truth of the matter was that the both of them sparred with sharp blades for a reason, trusting their steel skin to absorb any serious hits. Tier Halibel was lounging in a couch further back in the room, stoically observing them both, and out of the three present, Lanza was the one whose swordsmanship needed the most work. Neliel had kindly offered her services, and he had gladly accepted. It had become a habit as of late, and it had made the quinta more familiar to him, more approachable. But, it wasn't usually… like this.
"I'm fine," Neliel insisted. "It's but a scratch."
"Not the first one you've taken today, either," Halibel noted dryly.
"It's true, Neliel," Lanza said, having to remind himself to use her first name, as he knew she preferred. "I've wounded you more than once so far."
One, two, three, four cuts; two to her face and neck, and one on each side. None more than a scratch, but it was more than he had ever scored.
"Don't worry about me," Neliel insisted. "You're getting better."
She shot him a smile, and he felt guilty when he realized he thought it seemed forced. False.
"Not that much better," he said. "I usually can do little more than hit you. Today, I've drawn blood four times. That is exceptional, if you don't mind my saying so, and I do not believe I can attribute it to my own skills. Is… something wrong, quinta?"
"Everything's fine," Neliel insisted. "Really, I'm… fine. I'm just distracted."
"As you say, Neliel," Lanza said politely, "but… I hope I am not too forward in saying this, but I'm not entirely convinced this is the case. Something has to be bothering you if you are this distracted. Your swordsmanship is usually quite superior to mine."
"It's... nothing," Neliel said, trailing off.
"As you say," Jellal said, deciding to let it go. She was a likeable person, a rare trait amongst his fellow arrancar, and he'd very much prefer to remain in her good graces. Being nosy was a sure way to counteract that. However, he didn't have to worry, as Neliel spoke up again.
"It's just… I was thinking about my battle in Karakura. I was sent in to retrieve that traitor, and I was beaten."
"What of it?" said Halibel firmly. "You are strong, but the worlds are filled with strong people. It should not surprise you to be outmanoeuvred in hostile territory, especially by such a devious character. I know failing Lord Aizen is bound to disappoint you, but-"
"It's not that," Neliel said, shaking her head. "Disappointing our lord weighed on me, but I can live with it. But… the things I heard were a little upsetting. More upsetting after the fact than in the moment, actually. I have this… stupid line of thought that won't leave my head, even if I know it's ridiculous."
"Please, feel free to share," said Lanza warmly. "Such thoughts are more easily discarded when they've been vented, in my experience. You can rely on us, Neliel."
She sighed. "The traitor said his usual things, of course," she began, "that we were being used by Aizen and so forth, that he was no different than any other warlord, that we'd have to wake up one day."
"Typical of him," Lanza said, shaking his head. "He never had the vision to see past his mould of brutality."
"Of course," Neliel said eagerly, as if to reassure herself. "Yes, of course. But that shopkeeper… he had me at his mercy, blade on my neck, and looking up at him…"
"What troubles you, Neliel?" said Halibel. "Did he treat you indecently? Did he try to molest you?"
"Nothing like that," Neliel said quickly. "No, no, it's just… the man has nothing. Just a basement and some shinigami sorcery, and whatever trinkets he's been able to scavenge. Yet he looked… totally confident when he spoke of Lord Aizen. Like he was the one with an army and all the knowledge in the world."
"He's a weasel," Halibel said with distaste, "delusional. It's no wonder he had to ambush you."
"He spoke like he knew Lord Aizen directly. Like he was… predictable."
"Surely that cannot be all," said Lanza. "I know your confidence is not so easily shaken, Neliel."
"You're right," said Neliel, nodding. "It was Lord Aizen's reaction when I spoke to him. 'Impetuousness is the vice of the juvenile': that was the message I was given. Lord Aizen hid it well, but I smelled a change on him. It affected him in some way, like he was… angry. Or frightened. I couldn't tell which."
"Ridiculous," said Halibel dismissively.
"Yes, it is. I keep telling myself that," Neliel said, her tone conciliatory. "But… when I think about it, Lord Aizen can be quite harsh, can't he? And now, when that 'weasel,' as you called him, seems to have gotten a rise out of him… there's this ridiculous thought in my head, which just won't go away."
"What is it, then?" said Lanza.
"Part of me wonders…" Neliel said, swallowing, her tone nervous, "what if he is just the same? This… stupid doubt, wondering if maybe Lord Aizen isn't all he claims to be. I… thought of him as…"
"Neliel," said Halibel, standing up suddenly, "do you remember when we both lived in the wastes, hollow in shape, enduring the brutality of the ladder?"
"Of course," Neliel said, shuddering.
"We met once there, out in the perpetual night. The first time our paths crossed, I believe. Once we both realized neither of us wanted a fight, we entered into… uneasy conversation. Neither of us willing to drop our guard. We spoke, and as we did, I realized I had found a kindred soul. Somebody who, like me, desired more. You told me, 'There must be more to life than this. There must be more to life than killing.' I saw in you a hollow who wanted more. Strength, but for the sake of peace, not for her own vain pursuit."
"I remember that," Neliel said, smiling lightly. "It was… so long ago, but I remember."
"I could not trust you then, but I can trust in you now. Do you trust in me?" said Halibel.
"Of course," said Neliel, nodding. "We're friends. I treasure your company."
"Then I would remind you of this," said Halibel firmly. "Remember what we had then. Remember the rule of King Luis Barragan, which was truly the kind of kingdom Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was born of and aspired toward. Remember the constant struggle, the constant mistrust and betrayal, the constant murder and death and carnivorous indulgence. Remember the constant fear and anxiety, always sleeping with one eye open. You remember it as well as I do, I am sure."
"I do," Neliel said with a shiver.
"Weigh that against what we have now. See this human form," said Halibel, raising her arm, fingers spread wide. She flexed the digits, and made a fist.
"This human form, the one we once came from, returned to us with the perfection his science brought. We are ourselves, the kind of people we should be. Remember the chaos and terror we used to have, and weigh that against what we have now. Peace. The ability to sleep soundly when we feel like it. Most importantly of all, purpose. A vision greater than constant struggle. You see all these things, Neliel, and remember what we used to have. It's like night and day, like Heaven and Hell."
"Of course!" Neliel said hastily. "I agree. It's just a… silly doubt. A stupid weakness. I don't know what I'm even talking about…"
"Neliel," Lanza said reassuringly, "you saw Lord Aizen as perfect before, didn't you?"
"What do you mean?" said Neliel.
"He's an incredible person," explained Lanza, "intelligent, intensely skilled, brilliant, and equally charismatic to boot. But he's not perfect. Nobody is. He bears a great responsibility on his shoulders. You saw a crack in that image of perfection, the one he carefully crafts, and it made you doubt. It's only natural. But, the moment you stop and think about it, it's of course obvious that he might feel something when faced with a devious character like Urahara Kisuke. It's obvious that he's a benevolent lord with a great vision. He's harsh, but only because this world demands it of him. In time, he'll make a gentler world that doesn't require such harshness."
"You're right," Neliel said embarrassedly. "I'm just being silly, aren't I…?"
"I'm glad you brought it up," said Lanza eagerly. "Better that you talk about it than let it gnaw at you unreasonably. We're all friends, aren't we?"
"Yes," Neliel said with a smile. "Thank you, Lanza."
"We can be assured of this: our lord Aizen is no Luis Barragan," said Halibel. "Put those foolish doubts aside and focus your mind on the battles to come. You'll need to be at your best if you wish to live to see this better world."
"You're right," Neliel said, nodding eagerly. "Lanza, again?"
"My pleasure," said Lanza, assuming a stance.
As they began to practice anew, Halibel sunk back down into her couch, clasping her hands together, staring at the two of them thoughtfully as they did battle.
He is no Luis Barragan, she thought to herself, but then again, that's not high praise.
"Jackie, out! Riruka, tag in!"
Jackie Tristan, at Ginjou's call, took a step back, and Riruka stepped into the ring in her place. It wasn't much of a ring, per se; it was just the backyard of their ruined building, mud and dirt encircled by ruined, rusty piping, worn-out machines and concrete, the garbage cleared out enough to form a vague ring-shaped space large enough to train in.
Jackie sat down on a piece of metal piping, wiping a bead of sweat from her face. She'd stripped down to a sleeveless shirt for the training exercises, knowing they could be draining. Her black hair framed her face as she stared at the young woman facing down Riruka, fascinated.
"She's not bad," said Jackie, unable to contain her approval, "not bad at all."
"You ain't seen nothing yet, I'm sure of it," said Ginjou, smiling confidently. They had been training Orihime for two hours now, taking turns to test her strengths and abilities. Currently, they were testing the limits of the shimmering, orange shield she used defensively. The girl had come to their hide-out three days in a row, utterly determined to train herself to be better than she was, to be something more.
Ginjou watched intently as the spar continued. Riruka's abilities were not powerfully offensive, but the girl was light on her feet, and her fullbring accentuated that. She could shrink herself, or potentially others, for a second or two, during which time she could move quite rapidly. The effect was similar to short-range teleportation, and it was perfect for testing Orihime's ability to react. Ginjou watched carefully as Riruka landed a few impotent kicks and punches to the shield, barely making it rattle, but she was suddenly gone, appearing behind Orihime a second later.
"Santen kesshu-' tried the girl, but Riruka was too close, too fast, and she lashed out with a kick, catching Orihime in the midsection. She coughed and staggered back, grimacing with pain.
"Geez, take it easy," Jackie called. "She's just a kid, Riruka. Know your strength."
"I'm- I'm sorry," said Riruka, and Ginjou noted her oddly conciliatory tone; she was acerbic to most people, but she had taken to Orihime, who was simply too likeable to pretend to hate. "I didn't mean to…"
"You okay there, Orihime?" Ginjou called. The session would not be called off so easily. It was easy to think of somebody as feminine and sweet as Orihime was as weak, but Ginjou had seen enoughhings and trained enough people to know that appearances meant little and that coddling was a terrible way to gain strength.
"I'm fine," Orihime said, wheezing a little as she struggled to stand up. "I just… got caught off guard. That's all."
"We don't have to continue," said Riruka. "If I hurt you…"
"I'm fine," Orihime insisted. "I can't give up just after a few knocks here and there. Try it again. I'll be ready this time."
"Separate," Ginjou called.
"Ginjou," Riruka said, "maybe we should call it off?"
"She said she can keep going. If she says she can, she can. She's the one who says when she's had enough," he said simply. "If you want to tag out, tag out, but this ain't over."
"Don't leave," Orihime said firmly. "I think I'll get the hang of it."
"Okay… if you're sure," said Riruka, taking a few steps back. "Again, then?"
"Again!" said Orihime fiercely, summoning the orange, triangular shield again.
"Okay," Riruka said with a nod.
"She's kicking her ass," Jackie muttered as the process repeated. Riruka pseudo-teleported, and although Orihime managed to block the strike this time, it was still a hit that sent the red-haired girl reeling.
"Nah," Ginjou said, "for somebody with so much less experience, she's doing just fine."
"Come on," Jackie said, smiling and shaking her head, "she's getting thumped. No shame in it. When you're green, that's what happens."
"Just watch," Ginjou said. "Riruka's too aggressive. She's letting Orihime know what to expect. Just wait and see."
"Alright…" Jackie said, sounding intrigued, and shrugged. Ginjou had always had an eye for this sort of thing, but watching them, Jackie wasn't sure how Orihime would turn it around. She was constantly on the defensive, her shield almost useless.
Riruka shrunk and moved again, circumventing the shield with ease, and moved behind Orihime for a fierce kick. But, Orihime evaded it, dodging under it, and as Riruka regained her bearings, Orihime jabbed her in the chest, sending her off balance. Quickly, Orihime grabbed Riruka by the arm, and before the fullbringer could retaliate, she was sent tumbling into the dirt, flipped over. It had happened quickly, and suddenly it was a triumphant Orihime putting her foot on Riruka's chest, staring her down.
"Did I mention my best friend Tatsuki is a karate champion, and she also taught me how to fight?" Orihime said with a smile that, had it come from anyone else, would have seemed quite smug.
"Son of a bitch…" Riruka muttered, accepting Orihime's hand, letting herself get pulled to her feet.
"You weren't wrong," Jackie said, raising an eyebrow. "How could you tell?"
"She's moving her body well," Ginjou said, "no wasted movements. She's green, but she knows her basics. Riruka didn't notice. I did."
"You don't say," Jackie said thoughtfully. "Although, I doubt a bit of karate will help against a hollow."
"She's probably the weakest, least accomplished of her friends," said Ginjou, his eyes narrowing, "right now. But those powers? They are by far greater in their scope than anything I've seen so far. She could go real far, mark my words."
He shrugged.
"Okay, guys, break," he called. "That's enough for today. Orihime, Riruka, let's discuss."
The girls walked over to Ginjou and Jackie. Ginjou stood up, smiling widely at the both of them.
"How was that?" Orihime said. She sounded bright and cheery, but Ginjou recognized the hint of anxiety underneath. She wanted to be told she had done well. She wanted to be strong.
"First of all," he started, "great job, Orihime. You're a lot tougher than you look. I'm sure Riruka realized that by now."
"Go screw yourself…" Riruka muttered under her breath.
Ginjou chuckled. "When we figure out how your powers work, we'll be able to help you develop them properly. Right now we're just testing the waters, seeing what you can do, but I've no doubt you can do incredible things. Give it a couple weeks, and we'll see."
"That's great!" Orihime said happily. "Thank you, Mr. Ginjou!"
"Now, since I'm here to teach, I'm going to have to tell you what I think you're doing wrong," he said gently.
"Please do," Orihime said eagerly.
"I believe you will gain great strength if you put in the effort, if you work hard and make the time to train often," he started, "but before you can get there, you have to rethink your mindset."
"My mindset?" Orihime said quizzically.
"Here we go…" Riruka muttered.
"What?" said Jackie. "He told me the same thing, and he wasn't wrong."
"What I mean," Ginjou said firmly, his tone silencing them both, "is that you are a kind person, Orihime. I can tell by the way you fight that you don't want to see anyone hurt, that it hurts you to do something too violent toward another person, even if they are an enemy. Am I correct?"
"It's… true," Orihime admitted reluctantly. "I don't like fighting, and I don't want to see people hurt. I… try my best, because it's necessary, but I don't like it."
Ginjou nodded. "Just like I thought." He reached into his shirt, and pulled out the pendant around his neck. His European-style greatsword appeared in his hands, and he planted it in the ground tip first.
"What is this, Orihime?" he asked.
"It's a sword," she replied.
"Yes," he said, nodding approvingly, "but most importantly, it's a weapon. What is the function of a weapon, Orihime?"
She blinked. "Um… to fight?"
"The purpose of a weapon is to do harm. Whether it's to attack or to defend, that is what weapons do. You have a weapon, too, one that can split people in two. Like it or not, weapons exist for this reason. To deny this is to hold yourself back. To deny this is to live in delusion."
"I'm not sure I understand."
"I was once a bit like you," said Ginjou. "Well, in a sense. I was just a regular guy back in the day. I wasn't violent or anything, and I'd never had to really fight. When I first got a weapon like this, I didn't realize its significance. That nearly cost me my life in the beginning, and it's the most important lesson anyone has to learn."
"So… what is the significance?"
"The significance," Ginjou said severely, raising his blade up in one hand, admiring its smooth edge closely, "is that when you take a weapon into your hands, you have to be ready to use it. This isn't a club or a truncheon, or pepper spray. It isn't designed to disable people. It's made to kill. I try not to, but if I have to use it to defend the people I care about, I will use it with the intent to kill. Not for my own sake, but for others. You lack that readiness."
"I don't want to kill anyone," Orihime said, shaking her head.
"Neither do I," Ginjou replied, "but I'm still ready to do it if I must. You need to be able to do the same."
"I… I can't," Orihime said, now also staring at the blade, her eyes fixed to its steely length.
"Then get out of this whole world," said Ginjou with a shrug. "This isn't a game. You can't say, 'I want to get stronger,' but not be ready to ever kill under any circumstance. Spirits, demons, shinigami… the world you've gone into demands you're strong enough to live in it."
"It's a terrible thing to say," Orihime said quietly.
"It is. But it's still true," Ginjou said. "You chase strength, why?"
"I… because I want to be useful to my friends," said Orihime tentatively, and Ginjou realized it was what he had expected. The girl hadn't thought about this much at all. "I want to keep up with them. I want to help them, protect them. I… want not to be a burden to them."
He nodded. "As good a reason as any. But, that means embracing a fundamental truth. Are you willing to do that? To train, knowing that you may one day have to take a life?"
"I…" said Orihime hesitantly.
"This is not my decision to make, and I won't pressure you," said Ginjou gently, and sealed his blade back to its inconspicuous form, "but I'd ask you, would your friends do the same thing as you? Or, would they kill their enemies if they had to?"
"I… I know they've killed hollows before," said Orihime, "but that's not the same thing. They're just… purged. But…"
She stopped to think. Erza had killed before, hadn't she? She remembered being told of it once. With great regret and with no other options, her mother had taken the life of a ruffian to protect Momo's. Sometimes… sometimes you had to, didn't you?
"Well?" Ginjou said.
"Sometimes," she said, "maybe sometimes… you have no choice."
He nodded.
"But only if I have to defend myself," said Orihime, "or somebody I love. I don't ever want to go into a fight thinking I want to kill you."
"Only as a last resort," Ginjou said with a nod. "That's good enough."
"Sheesh, give her a break," Jackie said with a grin, "she got the message already."
"Thank you, Jackie," said Orihime, "but… I think he's right."
"It's all about mental fortitude," said Ginjou. "You have to strengthen your will as you strengthen your body, or you won't be strong enough to protect anyone."
"I understand," said Orihime, nodding. "Yes… I can't do it halfway. I… I came here to get stronger, and I can't do that without committing."
Ginjou nodded approvingly, and smiled. He turned to Jackie. "Now, tell me, did I sound cool there, or what?"
Jackie made a face. "You were kinda cool until just now," she said, rolling her eyes, "but anyone who has to ask if they're cool, isn't."
"Ah, come on," Ginjou said. "I was all serious and stuff!"
Orihime laughed.
"See, this is what a leader gets," Ginjou said dramatically, "all the hard work and none of the recognition."
Riruka rolled her eyes even harder, and sighed. "You're lame," she said. "Orihime, let's go inside and get a drink."
"Non-alcoholic," Ginjou reminded them.
"Yes, dad," Riruka said sarcastically, taking Orihime by the arm. "Actually, Orihime, wanna tell me about your friend who does karate? Is she strong like us?"
"Oh, totally," said Orihime as they headed back into the fullbringers' hideout, "but she's got her own thing going with a really good teacher, so she's fine…"
Ginjou smiled as he watched them leave.
"Promising, isn't she?" said Jackie.
"Like you have no idea," said Ginjou, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Like you have no idea…
Aizen rapped the tips of his fingers against his desk, staring at the screen before him. In the privacy of his office, he had set his mind to analyzing whatever data Szayel had extracted from their last, admittedly disappointing engagement. There was nothing else to do, and Aizen detested idleness. His mind needed a task to approach, a challenge to complete, a riddle to solve. His arrancar were all compliant and calm for the time being, and no threat to his power reared its head at the moment. So, scientific study it was, another task he excelled at. Of course, Aizen had yet to encounter a task he didn't excel at.
He stared at the computer screen with the focused mind of a prodigy, going through line after line of data. The tedium of extracting the exact sets of data of relevance, he had left to Szayel and his adepts, but what was left was still expansive and interesting.
Currently, his eyes were fixed on the data set extracted from Yami Rialgo's untimely death. That the brutish churl had perished did not bother Aizen in the least; he had made it to the rank of espada through sheer force alone, and had possessed a stunning lack of cunning. The only thing truly extraordinary about him had been that somebody so stupid had made it so far, and Aizen already had several replacements lined up.
But, that he had been slain with such ease was a cause for concern. Knowing it had been the work of a quincy, Aizen had taken a closer look. In the days following the admittedly unsuccessful operation, Aizen had, very quietly, sent out probes to Karakura to scan for traces of reiatsu, for anomalies. A captain-level shinigami would have struggled to beat the likes of Yami, and one that could do so easily? That was a cause for concern, but more importantly, it would leave a trail.
The trail that Szayel's drones had followed had eventually gone cold, but they had set them on the right track. By focusing on a general area, scanning it carefully, Aizen had found enough faint traces to begin to paint a picture. They were faint indeed, and there was no wonder the Gotei's clumsy intelligence agency had missed it. One would have to know what one was looking for, and where, to find it.
What Aizen had found had, for the first time in ages, stunned him very slightly. He had recognized, among two other powerful signatures, the signature of Jugram Haschwalth.
Aizen had not personally participated in the first quincy war; it was older than him by far. The second he remembered as a mostly one-sided affair, with the quincies putting up a proud, valiant, but ultimately futile struggle. They had been exterminated almost to a man, leaving only a few survivors scattered to the winds. The great quincy clans had all been destroyed.
Barring one.
Aizen had familiarized himself with the full history, and although the books had been read long ago and were now safely locked up in the Gotei's libraries, Aizen's memory was almost eidetic. He remembered what he had read with great clarity.
The five great quincy star hosts. One for each of the five-pointed star the quincies held with such significance. The East-Asian coalition of the Rising Sun, operating out of China, Japan, and Korea. The Sekhemran brotherhood, descendants of the ancient Egyptians, operating from Northern Africa. The Patrician legion, operating out of Southern Europe, supposed heirs of Rome's legacy. The Swiftstriders of Persia, hailing from the long dead Khwarezm. And youngest of them all, the knightly Wandenritter, out of Western Europe. Together, they had formed a coalition strong enough to challenge the Gotei. Aizen had noticed clearly the historical bias on either side regarding who started the conflict, and it didn't matter, either. The truth was that there had been cause for war, and a war had been waged. One that had shaken the Gotei to its core, one that it had actually had a chance of losing. One that had given the Gotei actual defeats, more than once. One that had been uncertain at points, until Yamamoto had taken the head of the enemy general in the most pivotal battle of the war.
The Wandenritter had been young then, newly formed, but their leader had fought with distinction, and they had carved themselves a spot in the Gotei's history books. The champion, Sigismund Yhwach, had slain the Kenpachi of the time before facing defeat at Yamamoto's hands. They had faced defeat among the other hosts, and when the second war had come…
When the second war came, they had been nowhere to be found. They had quietly faded into the mists of history, and nothing had ever been heard of them since. The Gotei had, with time, come to assume they too were a lost clan, but now Aizen was not so sure.
Was Haschwalth the last of a dying breed, leading a small group of survivors, wandering the Earth? Or, was he representing a delegation of powerful quincies, hidden away for centuries, waiting? Waiting for their time to come?
Or, was it anything in-between?
Too little was known, and Aizen knew better than to let his mind race and make one assumption after another. What he knew so far was: Jugram Haschwalth, grand master of the Wandenritter and high marshal of their armies, such as they were, was alive and present in Karakura, along with at least two quincies of comparable strength. But, what did he and his kin want? Were they potential allies or enemies?
They were an unknown factor in all of this. Until more was known, they were potential enemies, a potential threat to the fulfillment of his plans. It was one thing to let the Gotei run free, with their clumsy, predictable nature. He had a million and one contingencies in place, and once Yamamoto was dealt with, he was confident victory would be his. But, the quincies… they were different. They were meticulous, precise, and calculating, unburdened by the stagnation that had made the Gotei so complacent.
More had to be known. He would have to send somebody to investigate. Somebody… subtle, quiet. Personable. Expendable. Aizen smiled to himself. He knew just the man for the job.
A gently smiling face stared down on her, familiar and kind. Brown locks framed a handsome face, adorned with stylish glasses. A hand extended in kindness.
Momo reached out to take the hand, knowing the instant she did it that something was wrong. The face smiled at her still, but it had become twisted into a malignant, superior grin, the being in front of her growing to monstrous proportions, his ham-sized fist closing around her. He was a giant, staring down at her, laughing. The sky was blood red, black streaks of lightning the only interruption.
"No!" she cried, struggling in vain against the hand holding her stuck. "No, no! NO!"
The face said nothing, but she could feel the malice he radiated. He raised her up, squeezing her so hard that she couldn't breathe, and she felt panic rising. Yet at the same time she saw with perfect clarity what he showed her, his other hand gesturing at a dreadful cityscape.
The Gotei was reduced to ruins, raving monsters striding across once-proud buildings, razing them with a casual flick of their gargantuan limbs. The home she had known for so long was being reduced to ash before her very eyes. All that remained was a blackened, sooty throne for the monster who held her to sit on. In the distance she saw bodies lying still, and even though they were too far to see, she knew with absolute certainty that they were her friends. There was no blood, but they were still, pale, lifeless.
Shuhei. Renji. Izuru. Rukia. Erza.
She tried to scream, but she couldn't, the air choked out of her. She wiggled and squirmed, panic overtaking her, but she couldn't get away, she couldn't get away-
Then she sat bolt upright, breathing frantically, letting out panting, moaned breaths. She blinked. She was in her bed, the covers thrown aside. She felt hot, sweat trailing down her forehead. Frantically, she raised both her hands up, as if to reassure herself that she could, that nobody was holding her down.
"Are you okay?" came Erza's voice, groggy, not quite awake yet.
"I'm- I'm fine," Momo lied, sitting up, curling her legs up against her chest, leaning her face forward as she hugged her arms around her knees.
"You screamed," Erza said, slowly coming awake, "and then you kicked the covers off. Did… you have a nightmare or something?"
"I…" Momo panted, then shook her head, leaning hard into the fold of her knees. She felt shaken to her core, horrified. Tears streaked down her face.
"Hey…" said Erza, and Momo felt a strong arm wrap around her shoulder. "Hey, listen. Whatever you saw isn't real, okay? I'm right here. Look at me. Please?"
Her voice was like a balsam to Momo, soothing and sweet, reassuring and safe, and slowly she looked up, wiping her tears aside.
"It was Aizen," she said weakly, her voice barely audible. "I saw him, I saw- I saw-"
"Take it easy," said Erza. "Just relax."
Momo sniffed, and nodded.
"Let's go downstairs," said Erza, "get a cup of tea. Sound good?"
Momo would have agreed to just about anything at that point, and nodded meekly.
A few minutes later, she was sipping a warm brew that Erza had, with the effort of a morning zombie, prepared for her. With a cup of her own, her girlfriend sat down across from her by the kitchen table, offering a hand. Momo took it gratefully, sipping her tea.
"Now," said Erza, after the first sip seemed to have given her the jolt she needed, "are you okay?"
"I'll be fine," said Momo. She was slowly regaining her bearings. Reality was real. Dreams were not. The things she had seen… it was just fear. It lingered, the terror, the panic, but she was beginning to shake it.
"You don't have to tell me anything," said Erza, "but… what's wrong? You said you saw… Aizen?"
Momo nodded. "Just… a nightmare," she said. "I'm sorry to wake you like this. I'm… I'm an adult. I shouldn't make a fuss like this. Everyone has nightmares, right? I'm sorry I bothered you."
"Momo," said Erza emphatically, "if there is anyone in this world you can bother, it's me."
Momo's eyes welled up, but she didn't cry this time. Something about Erza's sincerity and support was a little overwhelming to her, there and then.
"Thanks," she managed, nodding slowly. She hid her face behind her mug for a couple seconds, taking a deep drink.
"It's fine if you don't want to say anything," said Erza, gently squeezing Momo's hand, her thumb rubbing lightly over it, "but you said you saw… him?"
"Aizen," Momo said after a pause. "Aizen. I don't want to call that man 'him'. I'm already afraid of him as it is, so I shouldn't be afraid just to use his name."
"That's fair," said Erza, nodding understandingly. Momo wanted Erza to keep talking, wanted to be reassured a little more, but when she didn't, Momo at last continued. She took a deep breath.
"I saw… him. Aizen. He was towering over me like a giant, and he had me in his hand. He showed me… the end of the Gotei. Everyone was dead…"
She trailed off, taking one long, deep breath after another, trying to still the emotions welling up inside her. Pain, buried underneath, was surfacing again.
"Momo, that won't happen," Erza said firmly. "What you saw isn't real. It was just a dream. When Aizen comes, we'll beat him back, him and every last one of his army. He won't kill us. The Gotei won't burn."
Momo nodded weakly, holding herself together just barely. "It's so stupid," she said weakly, her voice trembling. "I know it was just a dream. It shouldn't bother me like this. I'm- I'm not a child. But… look at me, acting like one…"
"No," said Erza, shaking her head, "you're not being fair to yourself at all. You almost died. Somebody you loved and trusted almost murdered you. That will leave scars. You're not being childish at all."
"I feel like… like I shouldn't… I mean, there are so many people with so many problems…" Momo whimpered.
"You are so very strong, Momo," Erza said gently. "When he betrayed me, it destroyed me emotionally. It wasn't long ago he did that to you, but you've held yourself together wonderfully. Don't be ashamed to bleed just because somebody cut you."
"I don't feel very strong," Momo said meekly. Erza's words soothed her, calmed her terrors a fair bit, and she looked her captain in the eye. "I feel… weak. Miserable."
"Everyone feels weak sometimes. It's part of living. I fear for my friends, for you, for what's to come… and when I do, I feel weak. The important thing isn't not to be weak, it's to be strong when you have to."
"I can't imagine you feeling weak."
"That's because I know how to hide it. But, I wonder if I should. Right now… the way you feel, I've been there, too. I made it, and so can you. So can anyone."
"You really think so?"
"I know so," said Erza firmly.
Momo felt her spirits lift, and they sat quiet for a couple of minutes.
"I used to love him, you know," Momo whispered, "in a way. He was just… so…"
"Admirable. Gentle. Kind. Inspiring."
Momo nodded.
"He knows how to put on a show, the bastard," said Erza, shaking her head, "and he fooled us both, for a time. But, we'll mend. We'll lean on each other. You and I, we… we understand each other here, don't we? We both know what it's like to be fooled by a monster and have your heart ripped out."
Momo nodded again. "Thank you," she whispered.
"It's what I'm here for," said Erza, and she smiled. "Feeling better?"
"A bit, yeah," said Momo, "but I don't think I want to go back to sleep."
"Then I won't either. Come on, let's sit by the couch. We'll watch some TV together until it's time to get up."
You don't have to, Momo almost said, but she knew Erza would insist. Instead, she smiled. In the end, she did fall asleep again, an hour later, leaned on Erza's shoulder, an arm draped around her shoulders. It wasn't the best of rests, but it was a damn sight better than the night terrors that had woken her.
Meanwhile, Soifon burned the midnight oil, as she was wont to do. She was no stranger to late nights, and as a commander, her workload was a Sisyphean labour, unending. That was, at the end of the day (and after it), the way she liked it. She thrived on hard work, and if that meant an erratic sleep schedule, then it was all the same to her.
She sat by the computer terminal she had set up in Urahara's shop, carefully secured by her personal team of operatives. The city's security was her responsibility, and that meant constant, frequent updates. She could leave menial tasks like probing the data and reports to her underlings, but although she had chosen her most senior, dependable officers, Soifon thoroughly believed that the best way to get something done the way one wanted it was to do it oneself. So it was that she stared at the screen, transfixed, going through one sheet of data after another with an efficiency and speed only a machine could outpace.
Thankfully, all surveillance data of spiritual activities following the last invasion had so far yielded nothing. What few irregular spikes of reiatsu output there were fell well under the mark that merited concern of any type. It was a bit more difficult here, given that Karakura seemed so particularly rich with spiritual energy, but her equipment and her team were up to the task.
Some things grated at her. There was the irregularity of the big, burly espada's death, for one. By the time it had been slain by Captain Kuchiki, it was already near death, and no officer present reported engaging with it, nor any of the auxiliaries. She had questioned everyone involved, and the more she looked, the more she became convinced there had been a third party at work. The site had been scanned thoroughly, but aside from a brief flare of energy, too long dissipated to be identifiable, there had been nothing their equipment could catch. It was a mystery, at a time when mysteries were less than welcome.
She shook these concerns aside, determined to finish the task at hand before losing herself to the hypotheticals of detective work. As stimulating and valuable an exercise as it was, she should tackle things one at a time whenever she could. She went back to scanning the data sets, noting with satisfaction that she was nearly done.
She almost missed it, which was how she realized she was getting tired. By the time the notion that something was off had registered, she had already cleared three pages' worth of data, and had to scroll back up. She finally found what she had been looking for.
The reiatsu sources were familiar, authorized even. The signatures of Kurosaki Ichigo, Yasutora Sado and Inoue Orihime, three of the auxiliary forces left to their own devices. Although she had paid some attention to their movements, she had so far found nothing too suspicious- they went their own way, as young people did, mostly doing the same things every day. Often they would come here, she knew, to train.
But, as of late, they had stopped.
It was not their presence in and of itself that had made her notice anything. It was the pattern. Yasutora and Kurosaki both had stopped coming here some time ago, and coinciding with this, they had converged, along with Inoue, in a run-down part of the city marked for demolition.
Soifon's knowledge of human culture was shallow, but she was dimly aware that teenagers, in their spare time, tended to loiter. It was common enough, she had learned, that they would find some spot to converge and do a whole lot of nothing at all.
To Soifon, whose upbringing had been characterized by discipline and punctuated by beatings, this was a concept as alien as it was obnoxious. Imagine what they could accomplish if they really applied themselves. Young Arisawa, who would often spar with Lady Yoruichi and sometimes with Soifon herself, showed a smidgen of that discipline…
No. She really was getting tired. No side-tracks, no mental diatribes, no personal admonishments. This was about the facts.
The fact was that it was probably nothing at all. Three teenagers under considerable pressure, finding someplace to loiter. It was not admirable, but was probably harmless.
But, there was the faintest irregularity around that area. The general reiatsu output was 5.45% higher than average. This could not be accounted for by the occasional presence of three young people who were, admittedly, quite strong for their age. On its own, that above average value was not a merit for concern, but what if…
There had been a third party at that battle. It was probably nothing; she doubted any of the three had the mental acumen to actively conspire against them, but Soifon was an investigator and part of that was checking any and all potential leads. Most potential leads were, in fact, nothing, but only a fool would consider that a waste of time. Confirming that something was nothing at all meant ruling it out of potential answers to a question.
She looked at the digital clock beside her. The bright red of it read 4:45 in the morning, the wee hours. Not long from now, the dark of night would be replaced by the greying light of the coming dawn. She yawned, realizing that one could burn the midnight oil only for so long.
She had to go to sleep. A few more minutes of this data set, and she'd be all done.
But, before that…
She reached for a scrap of paper from her notepad. It was old-fashioned to write like so, in an age of computers, but it was dependable. She procured a pen, and scribbled down a set of co-ordinates, marking the general area where the three had converged.
She then added, to make sure she didn't forget through the haze of weariness, K. Ichigo, Y. Sado, I. Orihime. Send operative, investigate site. Confirm lack of hostile presence.
She yawned again, and focused on the data report again. She was almost done. By the time she had finished, and headed off to slide into bed, she had forgotten all about the three delinquents. Thankfully, the note had been stuck to her computer screen.
One always checked. One always made sure. Nobody was above suspicion, especially these days, especially auxiliaries whose allegiance was questionable. It was probably nothing, but… probably wasn't close enough.
Well, there we have it everyone. Aizen has started to make plans for dealing with the Knights of Vanden, Uryu has been invited to their headquarters, Orihime's training has begun and Soifon seems to have found something of interest? What will come from all of this? You'll have read more to find out!
Im super excited to hear what you all have to say about this chapter, please leave your thoughts in a review. Thank you all every much and have a nice day.