The Death and Life of Erza Scarlet Chapter 88: The Limits Of Mercy, a Bleach + Fairy Tail Crossover fanfic

Here we are, at long last. The fullbring arc is now coming to a close with this very chapter. Im glad to see that you all enjoyed this arc for what it was. We figured it was time we did something a little different, both in regards to cannon and this story itself. Before I say more, I have some words from Greatkingrat88.

"Man, that's… three chapters in one month. A new personal best, I gotta say. Don't get used to it...

Anyway, this wraps up our arc. I hope you like what we did with the fullbringers, and where they ended up. After this… well, we're not very far from the end of the arc, and then things will get intense. Stick with us, because things are going to really pick up soon!"

Its true. I'd say in about a year's time or less, we should finally be done with the arrancar arc. After that...well, I cant say. XD

I will say however if your expecting a repeat of certain events from cannon...well, like soul society we'll be giving things a unique twist. Many fights, hell almost all of the original cannon ones from the invasion onward will be totally removed and replaced with new battles. That's not to say I didn't enjoy them, Ichigo's fights in Huecco Mundo are amoung my favorites and I really enjoyed Kenpachi's bout with Nnotira. But we want to tell things differently that isn't just doing the same thing over and over again.

Also, we now have reached 1500 reviews. That's amazing. Here's hoping we can get 2000 by the end of the arrancar arc!

But ive rambled on long enough. Its high time we finished this arc! Please let us know what you think of the conclusion as well as the arc as a whole. It would mean the world to us to know if we're going in the right direction and every review counts.

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!

Battle was joined throughout the forest. Although Kisuke stood face-to-face with his longtime friend Yoruichi some distance away from the exchanges of violence coming down this very second, they could be heard and seen with clarity. Even if they had been out of view, both would have sensed them. Yet, despite the symphony of violence playing for them, the two would-be combatants stood calmly opposed to one another. Normally, that might have meant they were sizing each other up, getting a sense of what they were up against, but neither of them had even taken a stance. It was as if two friends were just standing opposite one another for a casual conversation, making for a bizarre exception to the battles nearby.

Kisuke stood there, expressionless, his cane tucked in under his arm. His eyes were obscured by his hat, and he stared her down fearlessly. Only he knew just how deadly his old friend was, and only he had the confidence to stand up to it despite it. Shihoin Yoruichi, he knew, could kill you in a hundred different ways before you even knew she moved. She was the goddess of the flash, an accomplished killer, once the greatest assassin the Gotei had ever seen.

"I never could read you," she said, cocking her head slightly. Her hands were rested against her waist, as casual as his own posture, but Kisuke knew better than to expect that meant she was at ease. She could burst into action at any time, and when she did, he'd have to be ready.

If it came to that.

"My apologies, Miss Yoruichi," he said, nodding sardonically in a mock bow, "but I shall forever remain a mystery."

"That's what made me interested in you in the first place. You were never predictable. I had everyone pegged, except you."

"I try."

"Not as hard as you like to think," she scoffed. "I know you, Urahara Kisuke. Better than anyone. I know what's behind that self-assured smile, behind that confident swagger, behind that mirthful expression. You're very good at seeming like you care, but you do. You care very deeply about a lot of things. About your science, about your mission against Aizen… about me."

"Tell me, Yoruichi," said Kisuke, ignoring her point because it was true, "what do your observational skills tell you about this situation?"

"You're angry," she said, frowning. "I've almost never heard you outright threaten to kill somebody, but you just did that to Shuukurou. As calm as you are, you're furious."

"Excellent. Excellent," Urahara said with a wry smile. "Now, what else can you deduce?"

"You think you're acting in my best interests. You do that a lot with people: do what you think is best for them without asking what they think."

"I'm usually right."

"That's beside the point."

"Come now, you were in charge of intelligence," Kisuke said warmly. "You were not a bad investigator. Why do you think I act as I do?"

"My first thought was that you had gone mad," Yoruichi said, frowning, "but although you're eccentric, strange and with alternative values-"

"A kind way of putting it."

"-although that is the case, you seem collected. Rational. I've seen madness, Kisuke, and this is not it."

"So, if I haven't taken leave of my senses, what is the alternative?"

"Betrayal. But why?"

Slowly, Kisuke reached up with a hand toward his head. Yoruichi tensed; she was as much on edge as he was, but he only removed his bucket hat. He tucked the garment into a pocket, smiled at her, and said, "I act out of the most sincere loyalty you could imagine, Yoruichi."

She gave him a scrutinizing look.

"You've always been an excellent liar, Kisuke. Ever since I first knew you, you've had the ability to make people believe any truth you want. But… I know you well. Somehow, I feel like believing you when you say that. But we consider always the facts, don't we? Be it as investigators, or as scientists. You've turned against Shuukurou and organized an attempt on his life. I don't understand why, but you have. You know that cannot stand."

"Let's consider the facts, shall we," said Kisuke sharply, "like, who is Tsukishima Shuukurou, exactly? As a serious question, who is he to you?"

Yoruichi blinked. "He's my protégé. I taught him over a hundred years ago in the soul society. I re-united with him recently, and…" She frowned.

"But he's not a shinigami," said Kisuke. "Somehow he found a way to stay young for over a hundred years? A human?"

Yoruichi shook her head. "Stop trying to obfuscate the issue-"

"I'm obfuscating nothing!" Kisuke snapped, in a sudden, surprisingly passionate burst of emotion. "Tell me, if he's your protégé, then who is the skinny little assassin who wears the same clothes you used to wear, the same uniform, uses the same fighting style you do, thinks the way you used to think? Who is she?"

"I'm… not sure."

"Your mind feels clouded," said Kisuke, pleadingly. "I know, because it felt the same way for me. It still does. You run into something that makes no sense, and seemingly of its own volition, your mind tells you to think of something else. But let's look at the facts, shall we? This party is full of people all convinced that Tsukishima is their best and oldest friend, yet they believe different things about him. Always, he is conveniently placed as one of their oldest allies, the most valued person imaginable. But, when you really look at it, does any of it hold up? Does Tsukishima move and act like a student of yours? If he does not, who is the one who acts as if she is?"

"This… what are you saying?"

"We're being used," Kisuke said bitterly. "Now, that I find offensive. We've always been free spirits, you and I, always keen to pursue our own ideas and visions. It's why this exile turned out to be more than bearable, is it not? Yet here we are, enthralled to the machinations of an evil man."

"How can you call Shuukurou evil? He's good!"

"Listen to yourself!" Kisuke snapped. "When have you ever spoken of simple binaries like good and evil, Shihoin Yoruichi? You've seen enough as a commander of the stealth force to know 'good' is very, very relative. You've done enough evil as an assassin, as I have in the name of science, to know it's not as simple as just being good. Nobody is a good man. Some people do more good than evil, and that is all you can strive for. You know that as well as I do. This is not you talking, is it?"

"I…"

"Is it?"

Yoruichi shook her head and blinked. "I… can't," she muttered. "You're right, something is wrong, but…"

"He asked you to cut my throat. My throat. Your oldest friend, the one person who has seen who you are and still loves what he sees."

"He was just… angry, that's all."

"I know how you feel," Kisuke said angrily. "I know that deep down, you think poorly of yourself. I have always thought you were wrong to do so. He has dared to take that very personal knowledge, that special bond we have, and insert himself into it. The scum!

"Think about it, Yoruichi," he said pleadingly. "Have you ever seen me this angry? Can't you see something is wrong?"

"Not… since the night we ran," she said quietly, recalling the past, "when Shuukurou helped us-"

"Lies!" Kisuke snarled.

"You're right," Yoruichi muttered. "Something is wrong. But… I'll figure out what that is later."

Kisuke recognized a dullness to her eyes and a monotone to her voice, and realized there was no helping it.

"I had hoped you could be reasoned with," he said with a sigh. "You were always very intelligent, Yoruichi. Maybe he tightened his hold on you all by now. Maybe it's just me. But for now…"

"Brace yourself, Kisuke," Yoruichi said, taking a step forward, "or lie down, and I'll make this quick. I won't let him kill you, but-"

She disappeared mid-sentence. Kisuke was ready, though, and spun around, his cane catching the first blow by instinct more than conscious process. She was fast.

"If there's anyone you can't overwhelm with speed, it's me," he said with a smile. "Come now, Yoruichi. Let us dance."

"You won't win."

"You of all people should know better than to underestimate me," he said confidently. "Besides… I don't need to defeat you to win."

I just need Soifon to do her job.

Kisuke braced himself as Yoruichi disappeared again. He could only hope her affection for him would stop her from pulling out her nastiest tricks.

Erza stared down Ichigo, her pupil, her nephew, and remembered when he'd been small enough to carry on one arm. How far hadn't he come since? How far hadn't he come since only a few months ago, when he had just been a teenager with extraordinary genes?

Now he stood before her in bankai dressing, the black coat fluttering in the gusts of wind stirred up by the excessive force released from not one but two high-level shinigami releasing their very strongest. With a thought, Erza summoned Justice, the shield and longsword.

"Ready, Auntie?" said Ichigo.

"Ready as I ever will be."

The time for talking was past. She had tried and failed to make him stand down, but he had been too proud, too loyal, and it had gladdened her in a manner. Ichigo would not be Ichigo if he let his friends be exposed to harm, even if said friend happened to be a brainwashing snake.

Ichigo took the initiative, dashing around her with ridiculous speed, becoming a black streak. Erza had been sparring with Soifon lately, though, and had learned a thing or two about speed. She didn't need to match it, only follow it. There was the fraction of a second when he broke away from his run, charged, and Erza pivoted around to her left, her blade clattering against his and her shield bashing against his torso. Ichigo, surprised, tumbled to the ground, immediately getting up and beginning to circle her again.

"You're still too impulsive," Erza said loudly. "Your advantage over me is speed. If you had half a brain, you'd use it!"

She was giving him advice on how to beat her, she realized. This wasn't the training ring anymore. But even now, she felt compelled to correct him, to improve his method. She still felt responsible for him.

He clashed against her with speed again, and Erza caught the blade on her shield. She riposted, and he barely moved out of the way.

And if he hadn't, she thought, I'd just have run him through.

The thought was chilling, but somehow did nothing to deter her. Ichigo went into a furious set of blows, raining down on her with tremendous force, forcing Erza to hide behind her shield. Her longsword lacked the reach to retaliate; his blade was longer and stronger. She took one step back, then another, skipping over an attack that went low, aimed at her leg. He was bearing down on her hard, but then again, he had only the one weapon. She had several.

With a thought she summoned the spear, and thrust forward. Ichigo, taken by surprise, let the blade sail right through his guard, and Erza grit her teeth as she felt the point of the spear impact with his chest. Nevertheless she followed through, the impact sending him reeling. She wrenched the weapon free, and saw blood stain the ground. His blood.

"You really cut me!" he said, incredulous.

"What part of not backing down did you miss?" Erza said stubbornly, and dismissed her weapons again, opting to summon the dual blades this time.

"I'm not holding back, then," he said stubbornly.

"Suits me just fine!" lied Erza, and she charged. She couldn't let herself think too much, couldn't think too much on how she had just cut Ichigo of all people. Even knowing the immense tenacity of a shinigami, especially of his calibre, it felt wrong to come at him with such murderous intent.

So, without thinking too hard, focusing only on the swordplay, Erza took the initiative. Neither of her blades had quite the reach Ichigo's had, but she came in quickly and hard, her hands working in deadly tandem. Through sheer speed and force, she managed to drive him back, his arms working double-time just to keep up, to keep his guard intact.

"Shou!" Erza cried, as one of her blades clashed with Ichigo's. The spell, weak and incomplete, nevertheless hit point-blank. It was far from enough to knock Ichigo over, but he staggered back. In the instant he did, Erza cut him once, twice, the edges of her blades raking against his shoulder and midsection. He grunted as she drew blood, lashing out with a foot. She was hit in the midsection and staggered back, letting Ichigo recover. Unperturbed, Erza let out a loud war cry and charged again, determined to not let herself stop and think. She had wounded him. If she could just push her advantage here…

"Heaven's Wheel!" she cried, feeling the light scale mail manifest around her. Twin blades in hand, she felt her speed increase. If he wanted to do fast, she could do fast. She unleashed a barrage of strikes and cuts, her arms moving in a blur, and Ichigo only barely kept up, pushed to the very limits of his capacity. Ruthlessly, Erza pushed him back again and again, keeping him on the defensive. Ichigo slid into a shunpo, but Erza was right behind him, following his every move. He skipped back and forth, taking one step after another, but Erza refused to relent. They moved at ludicrous speed now, and to any casual observer, it would have seemed as if there were not two combatants, but at least a dozen; they both moved more quickly than any human eye could follow, leaving blurred images behind. Erza's arms were working like pistons, rising and falling so quickly that she barely understood it, herself. Ichigo, for his part, matched her speed, pushing the speed of his bankai to its limits.

Despite keeping her pupil on the defensive, Erza found no easy opening, no clear flaw to exploit, not just yet. She grunted with frustration. He was far from the superior swordsman, lacking the experience, and she could not rely on just wearing him out- raw power was the one thing he could almost match her in.

Then, it happened. Suddenly, Erza's left went a little too deep in for a thrust, while her right clattered off against Ichigo's blade. The opening didn't last a second, but it was enough. Ichigo's blade surged forward for a stab and caught her in the shoulder. The scale mail, designed for light protection, was insufficient, and she felt the hot sting of pain as half a foot of steel cut into her flesh. Erza grunted with pain and slashed wide with her uninjured arm, forcing Ichigo back.

"It's not going to be easy, sensei," he said severely.

"My own failure," Erza grunted as she took a step back, feeling blood seep from her shoulder. It was a flesh wound, but it was a better hit than she had managed on him so far. "I should have taken you more seriously. I tried to outdo you on your own terms instead of playing to my strengths."

"Then do it. Take me seriously," Ichigo insisted, "because you won't win like this."

Erza gave him a scrutinizing look, her eyes narrowing. Normally, that would have sounded like a boast, like arrogance, but she knew it was not. So did he. He had gotten the better of her in a contest of speed. He was a force to be reckoned with now. She let her reiatsu surge, and the bright, blazing orange of fire enveloped her. Erza leaped into the air, and cried, "Flame Empress!"

An inferno enveloped Ichigo as she pointed her blade, fire spewing down in a wide area. Ichigo jumped up to follow her, but Erza was ready. She had not expected the fire to do serious damage, only that it would force him to move. She brought Breaker into her hand, the great axe, and surged forward. Without the solid ground to brace himself, Ichigo was unable to evade for just a second; stabilizing oneself mid-air with spiritual energy was much more complicated than just relying on regular physics, and was something Erza knew she was better at. Ichigo brought up his blade, but parrying the axe-blow was a mistake. Channelling the fire of her armour, Erza let the weapon burn, superheating until it was white-hot. Ichigo yelped, surprise by the sudden burst of heat, and Erza pulled back for another swing. Ichigo desperately moved out of the way, as Erza let out a loud cry, the fiery force of her weapon discharging in a massive blast, sending Ichigo tumbling to the ground. Erza wasted no time, surging right after him on wings of fire.

"Getsuga Tenshou!" Ichigo cried, sending off a hastily summoned projectile at her, but Erza met it head on, cutting right through it. It exploded forcefully in a blinding flash, but Erza had closed her eyes and continued forward, bringing down the axe. Ichigo parried, just barely, the axe blade raking his shoulder and forcing his own sword in against his body. Erza immediately switched weapons, bringing out her shield and sword, and slammed the shield into Ichigo's face. Stunned, he stumbled back, and she thrust forward, catching him in the gut. Fire enveloped the blade, and she heard him cry with pain as she drew blood, cauterizing the wound as she cut. Ichigo recovered admirably, catching her next blow.

"Damn it, sensei!" he growled, his blade grinding against hers. Sparks were flying.

"This is what serious looks like," she said through gritted teeth. "If you don't like it, give up."

"Like hell!"

Ichigo shoved her back, charging another Getsuga Tenshou. Erza evaded the attack, and noted what a hellscape their battle had made of the forest around them. Trees were overturned, some burnt to crisps; it was like a localized natural disaster had struck.

This was no time to mind the environment, though. Erza reached into her zanpakutou's mind, and called for another armour.

"Requip: Blackwing!" she cried.

She was clad in black. Where the berserker armour was a dull, worn black, this was a sleek jet black, stainless and polished, the kind that seemed to swallow light itself. Great bat-like wings extended from her shoulders, and in her hand, she held Render, the great sword. She let the wings flap once, sending great gusts of wind forward, before charging in again. Ichigo parried her first strike, but Erza was relentless. Though much slower than her twin blades, each swing was too powerful to ignore, and the great sword had even more reach than Ichigo's had. She brought down her blade, Ichigo caught it, and for a second they pushed against each other, muscle against muscle, force against force. Erza extended her wings again, flapping them slowly, once, twice, summoning great winds pushing against Ichigo, doubling the force bearing down on him.

"After this," she growled, "we'll really have to talk about diversifying your bag of tricks. Look at you now, pushed into a corner!"

"You think I need more skills, Auntie?" Ichigo said stubbornly, and she felt his reiatsu rising once more, pushing against her own. To her surprise, he let go of his blade with one arm, despite him being pushed further back, nearly on his knees now. "Then let me show you what I learned since our last match!"

He brought up his free hand over his face, curled his fingers, and pulled down, and in an instant a hollow's mask appeared over his face. Erza reeled back as she felt an explosive surge of power, the dark force of a hollow's reiatsu blending with Ichigo's own, and suddenly she was the one being pushed back. She grunted, shocked, cursing herself for forgetting about his newfound abilities.

"I told you, Auntie," Ichigo said, a second voice reverberating over his own, "it's not going to be easy. GETSUGA TENSHOU!"

A sudden rush of black energy surged up from his blade, striking Erza point-blank. The impact sent her flying, and for a while, Erza lost consciousness. The world went black, and when it lit again, it took several seconds for her to understand who she was, where she was, and what was going on. Trembling, she propelled herself up onto her feet with her blade, seeing stars. As she came to her senses, she realized the blade she was propping herself up on was cut in half, the mighty Render split in twain. A diagonal cut ran from her left shoulder to her right thigh; the sheer force of Ichigo's attack had cut through her armour like wet tissue. Blood flowed freely from her injuries, and nausea almost overcame her. She clutched her injury with one hand, as if she could stem the blood dyeing her armour red where it had been black.

"Sorry, Auntie…" said Ichigo, taking a few steps toward her. He lifted up the mask, and the disturbing tint over his voice disappeared- but, she noticed, the black and yellow in his eyes did not. "…but I figured if anyone could survive a hit like that, it would be you."

"You little bastard…" Erza grunted, raising a hand, staring at the blood. As the shock subsided, she started to feel angry. She was not going down here, hollow powers or no.

"Give up."

"Would you?" Erza growled.

After a pause, Ichigo sighed. "No, not as long as I could stand."

"Then raise that blade and finish it, if you can!"

Ichigo reluctantly raised his blade. Erza's broken plate slipped away, the armour disappearing altogether, leaving her with the scarce dressings of chest wrappings and red pants, and a single long, curved blade in her hand.

"You've changed, too, haven't you?" Ichigo commented.

"Youtou Benizakura," said Erza. "I should have used it earlier."

She took in a deep breath. Blood flowed freely from her great wound, and even a shinigami's constitution could only take so much before it was over. She had expended a lot of reiatsu, and she needed a plan.

Use it, master, came the voice of her zanpakutou. Use it. You have my permission. I refuse to be bested by an upstart such as he.

Already? thought Erza. It is not mastered. Its power is wild and untamed-

Do you want to win or not? demanded the spirit irritably.

Erza knew the answer, and nodded to herself.

Soon, she thought, but I must weaken him first.

She let out a loud cry and charged, and Ichigo hastily pulled the mask down over his face again, dark force bolstering his already considerable power. Erza powered through the pain, ignoring every screech of protest from her torn muscles, and brought her blade down with fury. Here, with no armour at all, she was as precise and lethal as she ever could be. That was exactly why she had held it back, but right now, she needed the edge. She had underestimated him, and her own foolishness threatened to defeat her.

In a brilliant blur of deadly movements, they exchanged blows. Ichigo matched her speed with ease, but Erza's experience and skill were telling, and not a single movement was wasted. Her arms burned with pain as they rose and fell, but she grit her teeth and ignored it, pushing harder still, her blade becoming an invisible spectre of deathly force. Ichigo parried, dodged, and evaded, but one strike after another found its mark, and his arms, shoulders and sides became bloodied. Stubbornly he ignored it, refusing to yield, and in her fury Erza felt as if she were an unstoppable force colliding with an immovable object.

But, then it happened. As Erza brought her blade down hard, Ichigo parrying for dear life, the mask shattered into a thousand pieces. They clattered off his face, disintegrating before they hit the ground. Ichigo's eyes returned to their normal colour, the hollow's spiritual force about him gone.

"Like I thought," said Erza, grunting, "you can't keep that up, can you?"

"Damn… it…" Ichigo groaned, pushing against her still, but he was out of steam now, his arms trembling ever so slightly.

"I sensed it was unstable. However that visored power of yours works, you don't have full control over it, do you?"

"What's it to you?" Ichigo shot back. "I'll still kick your ass, Auntie!"

"No, you won't," Erza growled. "For the last time, stand down!"

"If you want me down, then you'd better beat me!"

Erza shoved him back, putting some distance between them. She was breathing heavily, but even now, even wounded and weakened, she was sure she had the upper hand. Ichigo was still green, still lacked her expertise with a blade. If she continued as they were, she might just win. But, she was tired and weak, and that meant she might make mistakes. Deadly mistakes. A blade coming in from the wrong angle could end his life, and…

No.

I am ready, she thought, and felt Hagane no Tamashii sing with approval. Her reiatsu began to climb, to the maximum she was capable of. She would have only an instant.

"Come, Ichigo," she said, as her power began to reach its peak. "Let's end this."

"Suit yourself," he said stubbornly, charging power into his blade. Erza twisted her arm back, pointing the blade away, and took a step forward. The step turned into a run, Ichigo matching her charge. As she began to move, her power peaked, and a golden light enveloped her.

"God-emperor Armour: Armadura Fairy!" she cried, and swung her blade forward, upward, bathing the forest in radiant light.

Ichigo wasn't sure what had happened. For an instant, he saw the ethereal image of great golden plate, ornate, beautiful, and intimidating, envelop his aunt. Her off-hand ended in a great, golden, five-fingered claw, whereas her other hand wielded a great, fiery sword, nearly as long as she was tall. She swung the blade, there was the thrum of massive power, and-

The blade didn't even hit. The swing ended more than two feet away from Ichigo's chest. A second later, the golden light had gone, the blade with it, and Ichigo had been thrown back and onto his feet, a gaping wound across his chest. Zangetsu fell from his hand, and he lay still on the ground, twitching.

Erza sunk to her knees. The armour was her zanpakutou's ultimate design, but it drained power like nothing else. Even a second of usage had eaten almost all of her remaining reserves. The power it wielded, though, was completely in proportion. The sheer power it radiated without even hitting had struck him down in a single blow. Her soul in agony from the drain, she sealed her blade, returning the zanpakutou to its base form. She nearly fell over, holding herself up on all fours, just breathing. She was still in that state for at least a minute, the world spinning all around her. Eventually she managed to stand on her knees, and once the world was still enough, she attempted to stand up. On wobbling knees, using the sheath of her blade as a cane, she finally managed to stand, feeling like she might faint any minute.

Slowly, each step feeling like it was weighed down by a slab of concrete, she walked toward Ichigo. She sheathed her blade, dropped it beside him, and kneeled next to him.

"God… damn it…" Ichigo muttered weakly, opening his eyes. "You had that power… all along?"

Erza ignored him, and tore his ripped shihakusho apart, inspecting the injury she had given him. Weakly, as if in some fevered dream, she ran her fingers lightly over the cut, and muttered an incantation. She was no doctor, but basic medical kidou was well within her set of skills. It was draining, and she was already nearly unconscious, but that didn't matter.

"Are… aren't you going after… Shuukurou?" Ichigo muttered weakly.

"Can't leave you like this, stupid," Erza muttered. "What the hell kind of sensei would that make me?"

"You're really something else, Auntie," he said, sounding exasperated. "Hell, we were both full of it, weren't we? I was… holding back right until the very end. Even then, I didn't go all out. Neither did you."

"Of course not," Erza muttered, slowly applying what little kidou she had to stem the blood flow. "I could never do that. Kill you? Come at you like I really wanted you dead? Over my dead body."

"That… sure felt serious, though."

"I trusted you to endure," Erza said. "I taught you well enough."

"You did, huh?"

"I did."

"What… a mess this is," Ichigo muttered. "Let's not do this again soon. Or ever."

"Seconded," Erza muttered. She had won, at last, but she wondered if she could have if they had truly been enemies. Ichigo was growing into something incredible. Where would he be ten years from now? Or twenty?

The wintry chill made Ginjou's teeth clatter and shake. The area around them had become an icy winter land, shattered ice strewn around them. His arms were going numb, by cold and exertion, and he was becoming painfully aware of his human limitations. Every swing was a drain on his reiatsu, every movement, every time he parried. The shinigami showed no sign of stopping, and not for the first time, Ginjou despaired over this state of affairs. It was hopeless. He had barely even hit her, and he was lucky to still be standing.

The soldier-woman dodged under a wide, sweeping cut, clumsily executed by his stiff muscles, and stabbed her blade forward, sliding an inch of steel into Ginjou's shoulder. He cried out with pain, staggering back, barely keeping his blade raised. Desperately he lashed out, trying to keep her at a distance, but she evaded with ease. The cold was her ally, and his enemy, and it showed.

He'd had enough. Breathing heavily, he planted his blade in the ground, bending forward to breathe.

"Stand up," demanded the shinigami. "Stand up and finish the fight you started!"

Why give her the satisfaction? He could feel Tsukishima running for his life. Riruka and Giriko were both down, probably dead. With numb fingers, he took the great blade in one hand, and threw it aside. Slowly, he sank to his knees, and raised his hands.

"Is this some sort of trick, fullbringer?" the shinigami demanded.

"Just do it," Ginjou said weakly. "Just go ahead and take my life already. I know you want to. Let me go to rest alongside my kids, at least."

The shinigami lowered her blade, and gave him a scrutinizing stare.

"You're serious," she said, sounding surprised.

"What the hell are you waiting for, reaper?" shouted Ginjou, exasperated. "Just do it already! I can't- I can't do it anymore! I can't watch them die, god damn it! I can't beat you, I can't save them, and I can't watch them die, so just do it! DO IT!"

She stood there uneasily, looking at him uncertainly.

"I know you can. You're all the same," he said bitterly. "Backstabbing, murdering bastards. Are you going to need me to beg? Is that it?"

To his surprise, she sheathed her blade with elegant ease, and stared him down.

"What drove you to this?" she asked, taking a step closer. "What drives a man to beg for death?"

"I just told you, you evil bitch!"

"I would have expected spite, or defiance, but this… this is not the act of an aggressor," said Rukia, shaking her head. "Was this truly your intention? This… conflict?"

"I never wanted it. I told you, this is all wrong! It… it was Tsukishima who made this happen, not me. I just want us to live, to be safe!"

"Stand," she commanded.

Weakly, Ginjou got to his feet.

"You are a wanted criminal," she said. "Your words alone, I would not have believed. But action… speaks louder, they say. Tell me, you spoke of Captain Ukitake. You said he betrayed you."

"Him, or someone else," Ginjou said weakly. "I… used to work for your lot. I just wanted out, and… everything went to hell when I quit. Been on the run since. Miss, I'm no conspirator. I just wanted to keep them all safe. I just want my old life back."

"I am Kuchiki Rukia, officer of the Gotei's thirteenth squad," said the shinigami. "Tell me, Kuugo Ginjou: If I asked, could you help end this conflict?"

"What?" he said, blinking.

"I do not wish to kill you, or anyone else. Until yesterday, I never even knew your kind existed. You attacked us. But if you want to end the conflict…"

"It's too late," Ginjou said, weakly shaking his head. "Everyone, they're dying…"

"It's not too late yet."

"You'll just betray me like the rest!"

"Kuugo, a second ago you expected to die along with all your comrades. If there is even a chance to make things better than that, will you not take it?"

He stared at her, eyes wide. She had a severe look on her face, haughty and noble, but she spoke earnestly.

"They… might still listen to me," he stammered, "but… could you call off your allies, even? You're not in charge, are you?"

"The commander is a friend of mine," said Rukia, "and I swear to you that if you make the effort to end this senseless violence, I will, too. Surrender to us as our captives, and live."

"What will become of us?"

"I can guarantee you fair treatment," said Rukia. "The Gotei is not as it once was. On my life, I swear the commander will show leniency."

Normally, Ginjou would have thrown the offer aside without a second thought. Normally, he would have taken it for another shinigami lie, another plot to kill them all or worse. Now, wearied, numb, and at the edge of despair, he slowly nodded.

"I'll try," he whispered. "Damn it all, I'll try."

"So, it was war again, then?" said Uryu, fascinated, forgetting to even add the honorific 'sire'.

The king nodded. "By the hand of Reynald de Chatillon, as I said. War was upon us, as dire a war as we had ever faced. I was summoned to Jerusalem alongside my lord to plan for the coming conflict. What I saw… troubled me. Even with the nuances and difficulties that had come with leadership, Gaza was far away from the capital, and I had been far away from the hub of politics that was Jerusalem. I say 'away,' but I mean 'spared,' young Uryu. I was too old to hold the same view new pilgrims had of the city, as a white and shining beacon of piety filled with humble pilgrims of the faith. Jerusalem was as dirty and miserable a city as any medieval town; this I knew well enough. But, I was not prepared for the corruption.

"I knew of politics well enough within my own order, brothers competing for positions of power and manoeuvring against each other. It always irked me, seeming like an unseemly behaviour for brothers in a godly society, but as I saw the court of Jerusalem, where King Balduin held sway, I realized how petty that was by comparison. Some worldly men were men of honour, like Count Raymond de Tripoli, but almost all of them cared only for their own power and position, for advancing their own wealth and status. They paid lip service to God, but the more I interacted with them, I realized that almost all of them, even the bishops and priests, cared little for it. Holiness was a tool to them.

"I will not bore you with the details, and I do not wish to revisit those memories, but what I had expected of Jerusalem was a court where godly men and worldly men came together in noble conjunction, to decide the fate of God's kingdom on Earth and to defeat evil. What I got was petty squabbling by self-centered men, and the indignity of my fellow Templar brothers forced to play the same wretched game. It sullied them, and I thought less of them for it. It sullied me, even though I had no choice in the matter.

"King Balduin was a noble enough man, but his health was failing him. He suffered from leprosy, and he was getting worse with each passing month. We faced Salahadin, the greatest warlord Christian Outremer had ever fought, and the one man capable of uniting us was at death's door. I confess this troubled me deeply, and even my master's assurances and urgings toward faith could not root out these worries."

"I take it the king died?" said Uryu.

"So he did," said King Sigismund, nodding gravely. "His health failed him as war was upon us, and vile men seized power for themselves, putting a child upon the throne while ruling from behind it. We were now directed by uncourteous, ignorant fools who failed to realize the threat we faced. There was… much that happened, but I will keep to what mattered most. War came, and we were not favoured. Christian crusaders promised aid from Europe, but they were far away and kept at bay by internal politics. I was returned to my castle, but the scales had been lifted from my eyes and I saw a future ahead of us, dark and hopeless.

"Death did not bother me. I had expected it to come. It was my salvation. But, to think I would die for a futile cause, for a holy land that would not be there when I was gone… all my life's work made as naught by the hands of foolish, immoral men? That bothered me. I was wracked with these great worries, young Uryu, doubts and fears that tore at my soul like rabid dogs tearing at a scrap of meat. Evil men ruled us, evil, incompetent men. Our greatest enemy, Satan's emissary on Earth, had acted honourably where our leadership had not. Our leaders were hypocrites, impious and vile behind their false faces of honour. Oh, this I struggled with… I was glad to ride out to battle, almost, but even the joy of combat was dulled by defeat."

He sighed, looking weary.

"It all ended by the horns of Hattin. Our new king had foolishly marched his army deep into the desert to face Salahadin, exhausting our men on the way there. The Saracens readied themselves in the night, and surrounded us with superior numbers. The royal army was mighty, tens of thousands of men strong, bolstered further by the majority of the Knights Templar marching by their side. Yet, our mighty host was dwarfed by legions and legions of Saracen horsemen, the mightiest army the land of Outremer had ever seen in one place at that time. I steeled myself, I prayed to God, and we fought. It was a massacre.

"The strength of our knights, the impact of their armoured charge, was denied by the quicker, lighter cavalry of the sultan. We were surrounded, picked apart, and massacred. My blade rose and fell a thousand times, and I slew scores of men, but eventually I, too, fell. I later learned that every single Templar there had been killed in battle, or executed afterward. The Christian army was destroyed, and with that, Salahadin Yusuf ibn Ayyub had won the holy land. But… again, I get ahead of myself. For although the holy land was lost, that is not what mattered. Not to me."

There was a strange expression on Jugram's face, Uryu noticed, distant as if lost in thought. He looked a little pained, and a little wistful.

"I died there," Jugram muttered. "I remember it clear as day. One moment, my blade cut into the throat of an archer, and the next, the lance of a mameluke caught me in the side and threw me off my horse. I lost consciousness, assured that I had found my death. Assured that Heaven came next."

"I suffered a similar fate," Sigismund said, seeming as distant as Jugram. His voice had slowed, and he was staring into space. "My armour saved me from death, just barely, but I was grievously injured. Covered in blood as I was, the Saracens must have thought I was dead. I awoke at night, surrounded by the stench of drying blood and dead bodies, my whole body aching. My first thought was, 'Why?' Why had I survived? Why couldn't I at least have died, spared this hell? For hell, Uryu, it was. I saw it just barely as the clouds parted to reveal the light of the Moon- thousands of dead bodies, as far as I could see, good Christian soldiers felled where they'd stood. Men from my company, whom I had known from when they had first arrived, lying dead and still all around me. Some of them," he said, his voice trembling faintly, "I had trained myself. I had never had children, but they were the closest to it that I had. My brothers. The only family I had ever known, killed in one day. This was the state I was in, Uryu- absolute despair. My brothers, dead. My lords and masters, likewise. My faith, defeated. My country, run into the ground by evil and selfishness. It was horror of a kind I hope you will never experience, young Uryu. I had done everything right, or so I thought. I had dedicated my life to serving God. I had done all of my duties to the fullest, never asking anything for myself. I had done it all for God, for peace, for my order. Yet… yet, I had lived. Lived to see the faith fully defeated as completely as it could be. Lived to see our enemy act with nobility where our own leaders could not. Lived to see the end of everything I held dear. At that point, I reached for my dagger to cut my own throat, even knowing that it would be a mortal sin. I did not care, and only the fact that it was lost stopped me. But then, as I sat up to look for another weapon, I found it."

"Found what? Sire," Uryu said. He was on the edge of his seat now; he could almost see the battlefield, almost smell the sickening stench.

"Hope," Sigismund said simply.

"Hope," Jugram repeated.

"I sat up, and next to me, I saw Jugram. Deathly still and pale. I… thought he was dead too, and I was overcome with sorrow. But within me, my old power stirred, and I sensed he was alive. I put my ear to his mouth, and felt the faintest breath. The lance in his side had stopped him from bleeding out entirely, although he was at death's door. So, here, despairing, I finally cast aside the limitations my faith had put upon me. If I could save just one person, if I could save Jugram from death, then I would have salvaged something. There are all sorts of reasons I could attach after the fact, but there and then, I know I felt a deep need to save him.

"So, I… I let the old power inside me stir. I drew upon the faint memories of the basic training I had been given as a child. Wrenching the lance from his broken body, I closed his wounds and stopped the bleeding. It was mostly by intuition, and more than once I feared I had killed him, but somehow… somehow, my spiritual power bonded with his. Somehow, I was able to feel it, manipulate it. I felt it, I tugged at it, and it came naturally to me. There and then, I saved his life. There and then, I lost my faith, but I regained it elsewhere. I lost my faith in God, but I gained a faith in myself, in people. God had not saved me there. God was nowhere to be seen on that battlefield. But, this power? It was real. It had saved something precious to me. The rest… is history."

Jugram nodded. "It is as he says. We two are the very first and the very oldest of the order. Robbed of our beliefs, we left that land behind and sought out our homeland once more."

"We found the clan I had once belonged to, and completed our training," said Sigismund. "We both excelled, and once we surpassed our master, we developed our own method."

"Blut vene," Uryu murmured. "Blut arterie."

"Indeed," said the king with a nod. "For some time, we were uncertain of our place in the world. We sought out the four great quincy clans to find purpose, but none of them appealed. The Rising Sun was honourable, but not chivalrous enough. The Sekhemrans were wise, but not brave enough. The Patricians were powerful, but too callous. The Swiftstriders were noble in their own way, but too mistrustful. Eventually, we realized that if we wanted a quincy order to belong to… we would have to found it ourselves. So, we returned to my home, and I took up residence in this very castle. My grandfather was long dead, and we came home to see the castle's ruling family was dead. With no other heir in place, I became its master. From there on, we traveled the world to recruit new people who valued the things we valued, people who valued pride, honour, decency, chivalry…"

"And, in time, we raised knights of our own. Brought up to believe not in God, but in themselves, in reason and in nobility," Jugram said with a nod.

"We are moving past centuries, of course," said the king, "but time does not permit more. This, young Uryu, is the short version of our history. That is the tale of how Sigismund Abaddon Ywach became who he is, king and master of the Wandenritter. That is why I am. I keep my people safe, and I raise them in the spirit of reason. I give them purpose, but I urge them to seek it for themselves, as well, for I have seen the ills of people being given models of thought ready-made, unquestionable and absolute. That is the essence of our order- to think for oneself, and to act nobly in accordance with that thought."

"That… was incredible," Uryu said quietly, awed. "Thank you, sire, for sharing that story with me. It seemed so… personal."

"I tell it to all aspirants who would listen," said the king with a smile. "It is my story, but also the story of the order. It belongs to them as much as it does to me."

"You've not yet seen the parts where he boasts his ability with a sword," Jugram said with a smile. "He becomes very keen on emphasizing how he beat the knight-champion of the castle within his first year of training once he has had a few drinks."

"Have you no respect for your liege, Jugram?" said King Sigismund severely, but a moment later, his strict façade cracked into a smile. He laughed, and Jugram alongside him.

"To be fair," said the king, "it is true."

"I am sure it is, sire." Uryu said.

"Would you look at that?" said Jugram, pulling out a pocket watch. "We've been at this for quite some time. It's almost lunch."

"So you say?" said the king, surprised. "My, time does fly, does it not? Young Uryu, I hope we will have time to speak again before you leave tonight- but until then, contemplate all you have seen and heard here."

"I will, sire," Uryu promised. He had a decision to make, after all.

Tsukishima was running. He was dimly aware of the fullbringers nearby, still fighting, but right now he was focused on survival. Twenty minutes ago, he had been confident, assured of their victory. He'd held all the cards, victory within his grasp. He'd been so sure. He had so many puppets all at once, almost too many to effectively control, enough to catch the last few and turn them to his side. That had been twenty minutes ago.

Two minutes ago, he had been cautiously optimistic, on edge but with a plan. He'd set up a formidable combination, and expected it to work. Why wouldn't it? Just one hit, and that bitch of an assassin would be his to command.

That had been two minutes ago. Since then, he had been rudely awakened to the reality of what it meant to face a captain. In the span of two seconds, she had instantly defeated Riruka while holding Giriko in place, sent Yukio and himself flying, and effortlessly defeated Giriko. Their one shot had needed but a moment, but, Tsukishima realized, he might as well have needed a year.

He sensed her behind him, a writhing mass of power now that she no longer tried to conceal herself. She was closing, and quickly.

Ginjou was right. The thought sailed through his desperate mind as he ran, his lungs burning with the exertion. His confidence had been replaced by fear, and he knew he was running for his life now.

Ginjou had been right all along. This was one captain, one of the thirteen greatest elite warriors the Gotei had to command. She had dismantled them like they were nothing. If they had been on alert when he first attacked… how quickly would it have ended then? How much plain luck had been involved in that attack? How much of it had been them not expecting this, not knowing how to counter what was coming? He had thought himself strong, capable, smart, but he had been an ant. An insect, prickling at the feet of a lion. Now the lion had awakened, and…

Suddenly, she stood in front of him. He skid to a halt, nearly falling over. He hadn't even seen her move. One moment he'd been running into the woods, as quickly as his legs could carry him, and the next she had barred his way, staring him down with a scowl on her face. She was not tall in stature, five feet at most, but Tsukishima felt as if he were being looked down on by a giant. A knife glittered in her hand, and it looked sharp.

"Don't come any closer!" He snarled, fumbling with his weapon, bringing the blade of his fullbring out, raising it with the fury of a cornered rat, like a man truly out of options.

Soifon stared at the criminal. She knew she would be lying to herself if she were to claim this wasn't personal, that this wasn't at all about revenge. She knew she would take personal satisfaction in this, but, she reminded herself, it would also be justice. She was acting on the explicit orders of her commander, and Tsukishima Shuukurou had more than earned his sentence. She took a step forward, then another, and lunged at him. The fullbringer swung with his blade in wide arcs as quickly as his human reflexes allowed him. Soifon dodged under a horizontal slash, knowing that parrying would not work. Even with this restriction, it was child's play. She moved like flowing water, and every time he struck, she was somewhere his blade was not.

Stop showing off, her zanpakutou said strictly, and Soifon realized it was true. No need to prolong this. She caught his hand by the wrist with her off-hand, moving with superhuman speed. Before he could react, she slammed the hilt of her knife against his arm, and was rewarded with the crack of breaking bone. When she let go of his arm, it hung limp by his side, his weapon slipping to the ground.

"L-listen," the fullbringer said, fear apparent on his face. "You don't have to-"

Soifon took a step forward. They were just a couple of paces apart, even with the coward staggering back.

"No!" Tsukishima cried. "No! No, stay away! Don't come any closer! Please-"

Soifon surged forward in a quick, smooth motion, and grabbed him by the collar with her off-hand. The first thrust caught him just under the ribcage, the knife sliding into his chest as if it were water, and as she twisted the blade, Soifon knew she had ruptured his aorta. He gurgled, but Soifon wasn't done. She withdrew the knife and stabbed into his gut. Blood trailed down his mouth, and she looked him in the eye. He looked terrified, his one good arm desperately clawing at her arm. He might as well have tried to make a river run uphill. Soifon thrust the knife a third and final time, and she felt his spine crack as she drove it in deep. As she withdrew the blade, her hand dyed red with blood, he collapsed onto his back, his white shirt quickly changing colour. He gurgled, twitching. Soifon stared down at the dying fullbringer. It would have been cleaner and quicker to cut his throat, but… he would bleed out soon anyhow. A few minutes of suffering before his death was no more than he had earned.

She spared him not a word, simply staring down at him. Calmly, she reached into her pocket for a handkerchief, and first wiped her knife clean, then her hand.

Tsukishima Shuukurou was done. She took less pleasure in it than she had expected. She wasn't sure whether that was good or not.

Rangiku spun around for another parry from Isane's Itegumo, only to realize the swing had faltered halfway through. Nemu's monstrous strength coupled with her girlfriend's skills had pressed Rangiku hard, especially since she couldn't fight back at her fullest. She had been bruised more than once, and something ached terribly in her left side; if she was lucky, it was just a broken rib.

But now, Isane lowered her blade, and shook her head in confusion. Nemu was blinking.

"Isane!" Rangiku said, a desperate hope rising in her chest. Please, please, please, oh please, let them have come to their senses after all…

"…Rangiku?" Isane said, looking at her blade, her confusion growing into shock. "Why… why are we fighting?"

"This makes… no sense," Nemu said, stunned. "We are out in the woods, to… to… oh my."

"Oh, god," Isane said, her blade sealing as she clutched a hand over her mouth. "I was trying to kill you!"

"Glad to have you back," Rangiku said, relieved. She lowered her blade, and grimaced.

"Rangiku, I- I'm so sorry!" Isane said, sheathing her blade and hurrying over. "Are you okay?"

"It's not your fault," Rangiku said. "I mean, who hasn't been mind-controlled into fighting their friends, right?"

"I… my memory is fuzzy," Nemu muttered. "It's usually… very precise. These last few days, we've been…"

"We were being used," Isane whispered, horrified. "All this time… Tsukishima…"

"Like I said, not your fault," Rangiku grumbled, "but right now… I could actually use some medical attention."

"Oh- oh, of course!" Isane said, hurriedly obliging to Rangiku's request. As Rangiku sat down, letting the good healer do her work, she felt intense relief. Finally!

Grimmjow stood tall, and shrugged his shoulders. By his feet lay the two punks, broken and unconscious. Some outing this had been! He'd been promised a fight, and he'd wound up with a couple of punks, barely able to scratch him. He'd played with them, mostly, until he'd gotten bored and given them both as heavy a beating as he dared. To not kill them had been far more challenging than actually defeating them. Irritated, he shook his head. It was better than nothing, he supposed, and it sure beat being cooped up down in that shitty basement, but still… eh. He looked around, hoping for another opponent, but to his disappointment, most of the battles seemed to have wrapped up. Damn shame that captain had chickened out- he could have been real interesting to fight.

Damn shame. Well, it was better than nothing. He flexed his muscles, and wondered what Red would have him do next.

He shook his head irritably. Hell, why was his first thought about her? He was an arrancar. He wasn't going to be some shinigami's bitch. He flexed his muscles again, letting his reiatsu flow freely, and briefly the thought of escape crossed his mind. He was strong. He could run. Fuck 'em all, right? Lost in thought, he stared out into the distance.

For a second, it was very tempting. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, strong and free…

But, then reality caught up. Where'd he even go? Running to Hueco Mundo wasn't an option. Hide out in the world of the living, like a dog, slowly starving on weak human souls? They'd find him, and when they did, he'd have lost any goodwill he'd earned. He spat, and realized that, to his irritation, he knew better than to try it.

Fuck it. Back to Red, then.

Kisuke parried an axe kick with both hands, smiling all the while. Yoruichi didn't want to kill him, and he didn't want to kill her, so their fight had become a relatively light spar. He suspected she fought mostly to keep her head occupied. He felt so very proud of her. He could sense in her the resistance to Tsukishima's influence, how she held back her punches, how she neglected to pull the nastier moves he knew she could. He knew very well how fatal Shihoin Yoruichi could be if she tried, how loyal she was to those who mattered, and that she refused to do more than basic martial arts was as good a sign as he could have expected. Even with the mental override the hypnosis had caused, part of her knew better.

He pushed back from the kick, overbalancing her. To his surprise, she lost her balance and fell over.

"Yoruichi?" he said eagerly, immediately feeling hopeful. To lose her balance at all like this was unnatural, completely atypical for her. She had the grace and balance of a cat, and only something very disorienting would cause her to stumble like this.

"Kisuke?" she said, rubbing her head.

Smile widening, he extended a hand. Hesitantly, she took it, and he pulled her to her feet.

"You're back, aren't you?" he said.

"I… I think…"

"Just take your time," he said, nodding eagerly. "I'm sure it will pass. Do you remember who you are?"

"I'm me, Kisuke," she said, a little annoyed. "What do you mean? You're always so- oh. Ohhhh…"

"Welcome back," said Kisuke, his smile for once totally genuine.

"He… who even was he?" Yoruichi muttered.

"No longer a concern," said Kisuke happily. "Although…"

"What?"

"I believe there is someone else who will want to hear from you."

Yoruichi looked nonplussed for a second, but then her eyes widened.

"Soifon," she whispered. She blinked, and her eyes widened. "Oh, shit, Soifon!"

Momo blinked. Her head hurt, and the world was a little fuzzy. The light stung her eyes as she opened them, and so she closed them again. It took a few seconds for her to realize that somebody had been kneeling by her side, somebody who, on second thought, was clutching her hand.

Now curious, Momo opened her eyes again, and slowly propped herself up. She found herself helped up by a strong, eager hand.

"Er… Erza?" she said, staring up into a familiar, beautiful face, tarnished by blood and dirt yet no less lovely for it.

"Momo?" said Erza, her voice tense. "Momo, are- are you with me? Is he still… still in there?"

"Who?" Momo murmured. "My head hurts, and-"

Then it all came back to her. Her memories, which had been blissfully absent, washed back in like a messy tidal wave. Tsukishima. She had followed him. She had been in love with him. She had fought Erza for him. She had turned against Erza.

She clutched a hand over her mouth, horrified. "Oh, my god," she whimpered. "Erza, I'm- I'm so, so sorry! I just-"

She felt tears welling up at the edges of her eyes, but Erza had already beat her to it. Great, big tears welled down her cheeks, but by the look of relief and happiness on her face, these were tears of joy.

"Momo, thank god!" she cried, her breaths fast and loud, unable to keep the emotions inside, welling over like a bursting dam. Still holding Momo's hand, her other arm wrapped around the smaller woman, pulling her into a bear hug. "Thank god, you're back!"

"I betrayed you!" Momo cried out, weeping. "I turned against you! I'm the worst!"

"It's not your fault, do you hear me?" Erza exclaimed, putting a little space between them, staring Momo in the eye. "None of this is your fault! Don't you ever think that way, Momo! It was he who did this, not you. I'm just so, so happy to have you back with me, so don't- don't tear yourself down! Don't you ever do that! Do you hear me?!"

"Erza, I… I just…" Momo said, overwhelmed.

"Everything is going to be okay," Erza reassured her, kissing her forehead. "I swear, everything is going to be okay. Everything is fine now. You're… back. That's all I need!"

Momo leaned into Erza's shoulder and cried, unsure of what else to do. She felt shame and anger, but Erza's tears seemed to wash it away, dull their burn until it faded away entirely.

"So… Soifon."

Soifon turned around to see Yoruichi looking at her, a look of uncertainty and sadness on her face.

"Lady Yoruichi."

Soifon wasn't sure what she thought. Yoruichi, who had only minutes ago treated her like nothing, now stood in front of her looking… apologetic. Ashamed. It was an unseemly look for her.

"Soifon, I…" Yoruichi said, extending a hand. "I… are you okay?"

She sounded a little desperate, vulnerable and weak. Not quite knowing why, Soifon took a step back, away from her lady.

"I have… work to do," she said, keeping her voice stable. "This thing is far from over. I have to secure the location, gather the facts, put together a report…"

"Of- of course."

"This is no time for… personal issues."

"I understand," Yoruichi said, nodding. "I… I won't bother you."

She folded her arms and turned around. Part of Soifon wanted to cry out, wanted her to stay, wanted her to insist that no, now is exactly the time for personal issues, but she didn't. Soifon balled her fists in anger.

Tsukishima… he deserved his fate. No, he had gotten off easily.

Rukia had, at first, felt as if she had accomplished something. She had quite possibly found a truth that was unknown to them all, and perhaps even averted a needless tragedy. This was somewhat undercut by the fact that when she turned away from her battle with the fullbringer, the both of them intent on co-operating, most of the fights were already wrapping up. Chad and Moe were beaten, a disdainful Grimmjow looking down on them. Erza- Commander Scarlet- was cradling Hinamori Momo, with Orihime lying unconscious just nearby. Rukia felt a sense of irritation that she knew was unbecoming- what was the point of finding out the truth and negotiating peace if the battle was already done, and by the looks of it, done on their terms?

She saw it before Ginjou did. Captain Soifon charged Tsukishima Shuukurou, knife in hand, easily evading his clumsy strikes. She broke his arm, and then in three quick strokes she stabbed her knife into his chest. Any sense of a bloodless end to this conflict was now gone. Tsukishima collapsed, and Rukia looked to Ginjou.

The man seemed to have sensed it, and stared, gaping.

"Sh-shuu…" he whispered weakly, before the whisper turned into a cry of agony. "Shuukurou! Shuu!"

He ran, and Rukia didn't even try to stop him. What would be the point? He was already broken in spirit, and he would pose no threat to the likes of a captain.

Ginjou ran, an impossible sense of horror building in his chest. He had tried to prepare himself for the worst, but seeing Shuu there on the ground, bloodied and dying, his preparation had meant nothing. He slid to a halt, falling to his knees. Without paying the assassin any mind, he wrenched his jacket off, and then his shirt, trying to use the latter to put pressure on the bleeding wounds. He fumbled with it, desperate, but managed to fold it into a compress of sorts, and pushed it down as hard as he dared.

"Shuu, you'll be okay," he wheezed, frantically trying to stop Shuu from dying, from being taken away from him.

"Ginjou…" Shuu said weakly, raising an arm to touch with Ginjou's.

"Don't talk!" Ginjou insisted. "Just be still, okay? We'll fix you up!"

With what little strength he had left, Shuu clutched at Ginjou's arm.

"No, you won't," he whispered.

He looked down, and Ginjou saw that the shirt he was using had been dyed completely red, sticky with blood. The ground around them was becoming rich with it, seeping all across the forest floor. He was losing too much of it, too quickly.

"It's- it's okay," Shuu muttered. "Ginjou, listen-"

"It's not too late!" Ginjou snarled. "God damn it, MEDIC! Doesn't anyone here know how to heal?"

"Listen!"

Shuu's voice would have been angry and loud, but he was deathly pale now, weak and all but spent.

"You just listen," Ginjou insisted desperately. "We're going to get you out of here, to a hospital-"

Somewhere deep inside, he knew that wasn't possible. Shuu'd be dead long before conventional medicine could help.

"I'm almost through, so fucking listen!" Shuu exclaimed, coughing weakly. Ginjou breathed erratically, clutching at his hair, unsure what to do.

"I… tried being in charge," Shuu muttered. "Wasn't so easy."

"It's not- you didn't know-" Ginjou stuttered.

"You were right," Shuu said, gently taking hold of Ginjou's arm. "We… had no idea what we were getting into, did we? It's… my fault, at the end of the day. You tried to warn me, but now…"

"N-no," Ginjou whimpered. "No, you can't go, you can't-"

"It's not up to you or to me," Shuu said, weakly shaking his head. "You… wanted me to take over and lead. I guess you'll have to find somebody else."

"No. No!"

"It's… your job still, big guy. Don't you ever forget that. They… still need you. So, just remember…"

He trailed off weakly into nothing, and his arm slumped down onto the ground, quite still. Whatever Ginjou was supposed to remember, he would never know.

"No, no, no!" Ginjou cried, tears streaming freely down his cheeks. He shook Shuu as if to wake him, as if he was just asleep. His shoulders shook and trembled, and he let out a long, loud, primal wail.

"GOD DAMN IT!" he cried, and wailed again, like a wounded animal.

From afar, Erza watched his pain and misery. She held onto Momo still, Momo's tears still wet on her neck. She felt a great sense of sympathy for Kuugo Ginjou, even knowing what he'd been party to. What parent wouldn't? He had lost a son.

She looked over to Orihime. She could still wake her. If she did, Orihime would be able to bring him back. A human soul was frailer than the spiritual matter of a shinigami or hollow, but if she acted within a few minutes, he would be brought back.

Then she remembered Tsukishima's arm around Momo, her Momo. She remembered his callous smirk. She remembered the madness of having all her friends turned against her. She hugged Momo tightly, as if she might turn around again if she didn't.

Yes, she remembered. She remembered losing everything she held dear to an arrogant young man with cruel and evil-minded powers. Some people, Erza thought to herself, do not deserve to be saved.

She forced herself to look at Ginjou, to feel his pain, but even so, the thought persisted.

There was the smooth light of a senkaimon gate opening, and out from two doors sliding aside stepped Captain Ukitake Jushirou, a serious expression on his face. Erza had just barely begun to collect herself; she had ordered Isane to give everyone a medical examination, ordered Soifon to round up the remaining fullbringers… things were far from making sense, but they were getting there.

"Captain Ukitake," said Erza weakly, giving a slight bow. She felt too weak, too drained to even question his presence here.

"I was informed by Captain Soifon that the situation had been… handled, and the gateway network was back online," said Ukitake. "I came as quickly as I heard. This matter is of… personal interest to me."

"Well, feel free to take charge, because I'm barely able to stand here," Erza muttered. They were none of them in good spirits, and aside from Grimmjow, all of them were traumatized to one degree or another. The fullbringers were dejected, the fighting spirit gone from them. Ginjou was still sobbing over Tsukishima's corpse; Erza had torn a piece from her shihakusho to fashion a cloth to cover the dead man's face. He deserved at least that much.

"Let us speak somewhere more… suitable," said Ukitake. "Right now, I imagine restoring security protocols will be your primary priority."

"Oh. Oh, right," said Erza, realizing she had actually forgotten about the impending threat that Aizen posed. "Yes, of course. Naturally."

She turned to Byakuya, and said, "Captain, can I trust you to secure our headquarters and restore patrol patterns?"

"Confirmed," said Byakuya, seeming a little uplifted at the notion of having something concrete to do. "I will execute immediately."

"We will all need to make statements," Erza said, "for reports and such. But for now… yes, let's reconvene at the headquarters."

By some great stroke of luck, everything appeared to be quite normal when they came back. They found a rather confused Nozomi back at the information central, who was pleased to report that there had been no extraordinary activities. Aizen had to have simply missed the opportunity, because Erza was sure he would have been pleased to exploit it. It was incredibly lucky, but somehow, the fortune of it seemed to be… irrelevant. Just looking at the familiar building of Urahara's store, knowing it was secure… knowing it was theirs again, that nobody was turned against each other, it was relief of a kind that Erza hadn't realized how much she needed. It took some time to settle things; Tsukishima's corpse had to be transported, Ichigo, Chad, Tatsuki, and Orihime returned home, medical treatments completed, Grimmjow returned, the fullbringers placed into custody, and so on. But, eventually, Erza sat down in a quiet room with Ukitake, feeling nauseated with stress now that things were finally beginning to calm down.

"Captain Soifon, if you please?" said Ukitake calmly. On cue, Soifon opened the door, bringing a restrained Kuugo Ginjou into the room. She pushed him onto his knees, and he sat down opposite Erza and Ukitake. He wore reiatsu-suppressing cuffs, but Erza doubted he would have been a threat without them.

"That will be all, Captain Soifon," said Ukitake. Soifon gave Ginjou a burning glare before exiting and closing the door behind her, but Ginjou didn't seem to notice. He stared into the floor, his eyes red from crying.

"Ginjou," said Ukitake, his voice soothingly calm, "I am glad to see you again, although I regret the circumstances."

Ginjou coughed, or perhaps it was just a sob from a man biting back more tears.

"The-the others," he said weakly. "Where are the others? Where're my kids?"

"Safe," Erza assured him, "locked up in our basement. Given the care they need medically. They're all alive and well, relatively speaking."

"Not all of them," Ginjou whimpered.

"I offer you my heartfelt condolences," said Ukitake.

"The hell do you care?!" Ginjou burst out. "It was you people who killed him!"

"Whether you believe me or not, I really do feel sorry for you," Ukitake insisted. "This whole affair, from all those years until now, was a tragedy. Not a criminal act; a tragedy. Of that, I am convinced."

Erza gave him a steely look. She did not feel quite as generous right now.

"I know this is a difficult time for you. But, right now," Ukitake continued, "we must discuss you and your… fullbringer group. As of this exact moment, nobody knows the full extent of the situation outside the Karakura group, myself and the captain-commander excluded."

Erza raised an eyebrow. Why had the information been contained?

"Why should I trust a single thing you say?" Ginjou said bitterly. "You set me up. Your people drove us from our homes twice."

Ukitake sighed. "That whole affair has been a stain on my conscience ever since it happened. The truth of the matter-"

"Truth?!" Ginjou said contemptuously.

"The truth," Ukitake continued, seeming unflappable, "as I offer it to you, whether you choose to believe it or not, is that I meant to release you from your service that night. Without my knowledge, operatives of the stealth corps followed me that night to… ensure no confidential information was revealed. I do not believe they were there to kill you. But, when you turned and ran, they appeared before you to bar their exit. You were scared. You struck at them, and they died. That was the tragedy. You were meant to go free, Ginjou, but then you ran and made a killer of yourself. That is why you were targeted; two deaths on your conscience. You were meant to be arrested and face trial for that, and nothing else."

"Then, do it. Put me in jail or kill me, whichever one," Ginjou said bitterly. "Just take me. Not my kids. I'm the one you want, not them."

"Under Gotei law, strictly speaking," Erza said, "they are almost as guilty as Tsukishima in all this. If it were publicly known, there would be no differentiation."

"Just take me, damn it!" Ginjou snarled.

"Please, calm yourself," said Ukitake. "If not for you or for us, then for the future of your… children."

That made Ginjou fall quiet.

"It is true as the commander says," Ukitake said with a nod. "That would be lawful. But, I do not believe it would be just. They were manipulated into doing something they had no understanding of. From what I've been able to gather, none of them seem malicious. I believe there is cause for leniency."

"Leniency?" Ginjou repeated.

"I will make no promises," said Ukitake, "but I believe I can let your group go free, after a review of their powers and strengths. I would recommend they find a home elsewhere, though. I believe also that I could alter the two deaths on your conscience from murder to manslaughter- the statutes of which would have expired by now, I would add. If I have my way- which I cannot guarantee, since ultimately this is in the hands of the captain-commander- then I'd rather send you all on your way. You have paid already."

Ginjou blinked, and Erza realized she was gaping.

"Forgive me, but I must confer with the commander on this in private," said Ukitake gently. "I hope you understand."

"Of- of course," Ginjou muttered.

After calling on Soifon again to escort him out, Ukitake turned to Erza.

"I would never expect you to be cruel enough to give a man false hope," she said sharply, "so I can only assume you were sincere in that."

"I was," Ukitake said simply.

"These were severe crimes," Erza said, "the kind that would, under Gotei law, lead to execution or at least imprisonment for life."

"Is that just?"

"Is it just?" Erza practically spat the words. "Is it just? We just nearly lost control of a whole battle force of unprecedented strength. We left ourselves wide open to Aizen at a critical time, and you ask me if this is just?"

"Forgive me, but you sound more like Captain Soifon than your usual self," said Ukitake mildly. "She already made the same recommendations, I might add. But, is that what you should be saying? Is that who Erza Scarlet is? If it is," he added hastily, "I will not judge you. It's understandable and fair. But, when you joined, not long ago, I seem to recall a rebellious character who was highly critical of the way we do things. The kind that picked mercy over judgment."

"That- that isn't-"

"Isn't it?" said Ukitake innocently, and shrugged. "If you say so. You know yourself better than I do, certainly."

"You listen here-" Erza said indignantly, and a hundred infuriated objections died before she could utter them.

Wasn't he right?

She had promised Rukia she would lie to preserve Byakuya's reputation.

She had ordered Soifon to end a man's life.

She had watched him die, and felt no remorse.

Who was she becoming, exactly? Was that the kind of person she should be?

"If… if we show mercy, is it not foolish?" she said weakly. "If they did it once… couldn't they do it again?"

"A fair argument," said Ukitake. "Imprisonment for life would certainly eliminate that problem."

"Can you stop agreeing with me?" Erza burst out. "That's not how this is supposed to go!"

"This matter is personal to me," Ukitake said, "but it is not just mine. It affected you more than me, I dare say. If anyone has a say in it, it is you."

"I…"

"Tell me, Erza: What do you think?" asked Ukitake sincerely. "What is your measure of this man?"

"Ichigo trusts him," Erza muttered. "I thought Ichigo was being manipulated, but… but now I'm not so sure. He… he's a grieving man. He cared. When he says he didn't want this… I can believe that."

"Do you think he'd come back to haunt us?"

"We killed his adopted son. I would blame us, too."

"And are they strong enough to merit real concern?"

"…No," Erza muttered grudgingly.

"Who do you think he is?"

"I…" Erza said, and hesitated. "I think he's a good man caught up in something he never wanted. I think he just wants his family to get by. That's what I think. But, he's also a risk. I'm in charge of this mission; I can't just…"

"Can't just what?"

"I mean… can I even let them go?"

"That is up to you."

"God damn it!"

"Welcome to captaincy," Ukitake said dryly.

"What's your take, then?" Erza demanded.

"As somebody less personally affected, I think it would be unjust to punish them to the extent the Gotei would. I also think they are, practically speaking, quite inconsequential compared to the threat ahead. We do not have the time for trials right now. I'll be honest with you- the captain-commander made it clear he wants the issue resolved today, whether that means killing them all, putting them in the maggot's nest, or sending them on their way."

Erza sighed. "I… I'm not the right person to make the call."

"So, don't. Let me."

"No, it should be me," she said stubbornly, "personal feelings be damned. I can't shy away from this just because it's hard."

"Well spoken," Ukitake said approvingly. "So, shall we contact the captain-commander? Is your mind made up?"

"Not even remotely," Erza muttered, "but all the same… yes. Get us in contact with the old man. As soon as possible."

It was afternoon, and Uryu, somewhat to his dismay, had not gotten the chance to speak with the king again. The dismay was lessened considerably, though, by good company. Sir Gerhart, merrily boasting about victories that were obviously exaggerated even by the standards of a quincy as powerful as he; Basarde- Bazz- providing cynical, good-natured insights about the order and his grounded outlook on it; Askin de Levarre beating him handily at poker, his charismatic mannerisms somewhat undercut by the fact that he was clearly cheating; Cang Du providing tales of combat from the far Orient that were by far more believable than Sir Gerhart's. Every question Uryu asked was answered, from technical issues of quincy technique to history to thoughts on ethics. It was, all in all, everything Uryu could have asked for, and when Haschwalth came into the hall to remind him that the car that would take him to his flight home would leave soon, Uryu felt disappointed. He had never been the most social of people, but he had begun to feel a sense of kinship here. To be a quincy among quincies, to be among like-minded people who loved honour, pride, and virtue the same way he did- yet fought over it in constant arguments, where nobody seemed to entirely agree- was as much as he could possibly have asked for. To be part of this… oh, how marvelous would it be?

After saying his goodbyes to the paladins, who said their farewells with cheer and drank his toast, Uryu followed the grand master out of the room. There was one thing yet to do before he left; he knew that much.

Haschwalth led him to the throne room, emptied of people now, rows of benches unoccupied and lonely. It looked off somehow; Uryu felt as if the room was not the same without it being filled by row upon row of knights. This was a momentary distraction, though, as he laid eyes on the king, sitting cross-legged upon his throne, the simple crown adorning his head. He wore full regalia now, velvet and silken robes, a massive cloak lined with ermine fur emphasizing his station. Uryu fell to one knee and bowed his head without needing to be prompted by Haschwalth.

"Rise, aspirant," said King Sigismund authoritatively, and Uryu obeyed.

"Tell me, young Uryu," said the king, "your short time here with us has come to an end. What say you to our order?"

"What I have seen of it, sire," said Uryu, choosing his words carefully, "has been marvelous. Everything I had hoped for, and more."

"Then I believe you will know what my next question is, aspirant?"

"Your Majesty wishes to know if I would join your order in time."

"So I do, young Uryu. You possess considerable talent, and you seem an honourable young man. You would find with us a home and grand purpose. You would become the best that you could be, and in time you would be amongst the order's elites. What say you?"

"I cannot, sire, not until my studies are finished." Uryu said evasively. He knew his answer already, and it did not please him. Staring down the severe man in front of him, speaking to him as a king, Uryu felt uncomfortable to contradict him in any way.

"You have said as much, and I consider it fair," said the king, a little impatiently, "but after that? Will you become a knight? Will you become Sir Ishida, a chevalier, in time perhaps even a paladin?"

Uryu took a deep breath, and spoke quickly. "Sire, I cannot."

The king raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You speak with such finality, aspirant. Have you truly made you decision already?"

"Sire, I have done nothing but consider this. I could hardly sleep last night, so excited was I at the prospect of being amongst you. To be among those who value the things I value… to become strong, to do so in the pursuit of purpose… I have never in my life had an offer so tempting."

"Then what is there to talk about?" said Haschwalth mildly. "You sound like you want it. We give it freely. What holds you back?"

"Please, do not mistake this for scorn or ingratitude," said Uryu, a little pained. "I truly appreciate what you have shown me, but-"

"Be at ease, young Uryu," said the king, making a calming gesture with his hand. "I ask nothing except that you explain your motivation."

Uryu sighed. "You have shown me the grandest possible vision. But, all the same… not to be rude, but when something seems too good to be true, it usually is."

The king's eyes narrowed slightly, but he motioned for Uryu to continue.

"You have shown me all I desire, Your Majesty. Yet… still, you keep secrets from me. Still, some information is privileged. I can understand that, but Your Majesty will not even reveal the true purpose of this order. If I were to join, I would do so blindly. I would do so on the condition that the truth be revealed only after I have sworn loyalty to you. This, I cannot do. Do you understand why, sire? Do you understand my hesitance?"

"Young Uryu," the king rumbled, "I believe you value truth. A fine merit in itself, but it is rather a conundrum, because the full truth is by necessity kept clouded. I will swear on my life and on my honour that it is not nefarious- but of course, do you know that I am not lying? You cannot be sure. This I understand. It disappoints me, but your skepticism is, from your perspective… fair."

"I am glad you understand," said Uryu, and sighed. "I expect I will have to find my own way from here on. Know that I am grateful for all you have provided-"

"On the contrary," said the king, shaking his head, "your training was offered freely, and will continue until it is concluded. We are assured of your character, and what was given was not conditional. Paladins Haschwalth, McAllon and Basterbine will return with you tonight, as before."

"I… I am grateful, sire," Uryu stammered. It had taken quite a lot of mental resilience to say no, for the king had a way of filling up a room even as large as this, as if he was larger than his physical frame in more than spirit.

"Even so," said the king, "although I will not divulge the full truth to an outsider, I will invite you to do some reasoning of your own."

"My own, sire?" Uryu said confusedly.

"You asked this order's purpose. Reason, then, as to what you think it is. What have you seen here this weekend, and what conclusions have you made?"

"You… have soldiers," Uryu said slowly, a little taken aback by this development, "skilled ones, by the hundreds. Maybe even thousands. Your elites are, from what I can tell, at least as skilled as the best of the Gotei Thirteen's officers, including their captains. Here in this castle, I have seen a military force, united by creed and philosophy and trained in the art of war on the spiritual plane. An army."

"And what is the purpose of an army, young Uryu?"

"To make war," said Uryu flatly. "Yes… and you have power here, enough to rival…"

He slowed down.

"And so, I believe the scales fall from the lad's eyes," said the king to Haschwalth.

"What… other purpose could there be?" Uryu muttered to himself. "You would not build such a force to conquer the mortal world. Why would you? What interest would you have in that?"

"Indeed," said the king. "No, this force was not built to combat mortal men. It was raised, first of all, to protect our realms from hollows. But, a fraction of what I have could do that…"

"You plan to attack the Gotei Thirteen," Uryu breathed.

"Your words, not ours," said the king. "Now you have arrived at the truth- or what you think is the truth. What will you do with it?"

"That… I must think on it," said Uryu. "I am no ally to the Gotei, but war… war is a dire matter. This… this is why you came to Karakura, isn't it? To keep an eye on the upcoming conflict. You know somehow, and you plan to make your move!"

"The car will leave soon, will it not, Haschwalth?" said the king smoothly. "I suggest you change clothes while you can, grand master, before you drive young Uryu on his way home."

Haschwalth bowed, and nodded.

"This… it all makes sense, then," Uryu murmured. "Was inviting me about that? About gaining information?"

"Young Uryu," said the king with some distaste in his voice, "have we asked you a single question about the shinigami? About the battle force stationed in Karakura? Whatever our long term motives are, our interest in you is and always has been genuine. You are a quincy, young man, and you deserve a chance to your heritage."

"…Forgive me, sire," Uryu murmured. He went down on one knee, bowing deeply. "Your Majesty, I am grateful for my time here. I have much to think on. For now, I swear on my pride as a quincy that I will divulge none of the secrets I learned here at this castle. I do not reject your offer for all time, but I must learn more, both as a quincy and about your purpose, before I can join this order. With that said, sire, I must beg you dismiss me, for the hour grows late."

"I am glad to hear a young man speak with such clarity," said the king warmly. "So be it, then. On your way, young Uryu. Finish you schooling, as a quincy and as a citizen, and revisit us when it is time."

"I shall, sire," Uryu promised, and walked out of the throne room, his heart pounding.

Haschwalth watched him go.

"Your Majesty," he said, brows furrowed, "why not give him some of the truth? No quincy should be unaware of the Gotei's atrocities. His own grandfather was mutilated and killed there. Surely it would have swayed him?"

"On our word alone?" said the king ponderously. "It would have seemed manipulative. The boy is suspicious of us. Tempted, and aware of it. Such a fact would seem quite… convenient."

"It is the truth, sire."

"Its veracity is irrelevant. Only how it would seem to the young man matters. No, we will spare him the knowledge for now. Continue to train him. Guide him. Make a good impression. When the time is right and he trusts you, I will instruct you to reveal the full truth. When he is better trained, more matured, the truth shall be his, and then he may make his choice."

"Sire, that may be after… well, our goal."

"Perhaps. Even so, that is my decision."

"Very well, Your Majesty," Haschwalth said respectfully, nodding. "I had best get going, then."

"Go," said the king.

Left alone at last, the king stared out into space. Ishida Uryu was, without a doubt, the most interesting candidate he had seen in years.

Erza stared down the screen Urahara had set up, large enough to fill up most of the wall. The old man seemed enormous when looking at them through it, implacable and unflappable.

"Report," commanded Yamamoto, both hands clutched over his cane.

"The situation is under full control, captain-commander," Ukitake said calmly. "All that remains now is to decide what to do with these 'fullbringers'."

"Captain Soifon has already sent a preliminary report," grumbled the old man. "It ends with the recommendation that they be executed for crimes against the Gotei. She certainly has the legal standing. What say you, commander?"

Erza breathed in. It was no surprise to her that Soifon had made the suggestion. She probably would have done so even without the personal stake in the issue. Not long ago, Erza would have sympathized with it.

"It is my belief," Erza began, still collecting herself, still not sure what she thought, "that with all the evidence and knowledge available to me at this time, they are not as a group hostile to the Gotei or its interest. I believe that prior to two days ago, their only priority was to remain undetected and in peace. I believe that Tsukishima Shuukurou was the instigator of this attack, and that none of them except Kuugo Ginjou had any idea what they were doing. For the record, Kuugo states that he objected strongly to this attack. I believe this to be true."

"All the same," said Yamamoto gruffly, "the authority of the Gotei Thirteen has been undermined at a crucial time. Aside from the immense security risk this presented, your battle group has been humiliated by a mere human. These are all guilty parties in crimes against the Gotei. Under the law, we could do as Captain Soifon asks, and more."

"Captain-commander-" Ukitake began, but Erza cut him off.

"You could, sir, and I would not care either way," she said, keeping her voice neutral, "but I believe this was a tragedy from start to finish. I believe it should be judged accordingly. I will not decide their fate. That, sir, is your prerogative. I can only state the facts. Facts as follows: A bunch of ignorant kids were grossly misinformed about the Gotei itself, its intentions and its missions, by a paranoid man wanted for murder- a murder committed not out of cruelty, premeditation, or ill intent, but from a mistaken belief that he needed to defend himself. Thus misinformed, the group itself did not attack- only the instigator. The instigator in question has paid for his actions with his life. The rest of the group was defeated without too much effort, without any severe injuries on our count. What sentence does this merit, captain-commander Yamamoto?"

"An operative was killed," said the old man.

"I have reason to believe it was the work of the instigator, Tsukishima," said Ukitake.

Erza gave him a quick look. They didn't know that for sure, at all. Then again, reason to believe was vague enough that it wasn't exactly lying. She thought about it, and decided not to object. What would the point be?

"Assuming that is the case," said the old man, "what would you do with them?"

"Not my call, sir," said Erza.

"Sensei?" said Ukitake.

"Truth be told," said Yamamoto, "the full truth of this has not been spread, because such considerable trouble having been brought upon us would shame you considerably, commander. Worse, it would shame the Gotei. Worse still, Aizen Sousuke might somehow pick up on this. Tactically speaking, the less that is said about this, the better. If the whole group were to disappear, it would serve us all best. Captain Soifon's solution would work. What alternative is there?"

"Exile, sir," said Ukitake quickly. "Send them on their way. Let them go where they wish to go. They will not bother us again."

"We killed one of their number," Yamamoto reminded him.

"Maybe they'll come back one day," said Erza, "but I doubt it. If they do, we'll deal with it. For now… I agree with Ukitake. Let them go, sir. I'll explain the terms of the deal to them."

"See it done," said Yamamoto simply. "This is the last I wish to hear of this, commander. Another such incident, and you will be relieved of command. As far as the Gotei is concerned, this has not happened. Is this understood?"

There it was again, the suppression of truth in the name of convenience. Erza hated it, but all the same, she saluted. This was not the time. Pick your battles, she thought to herself.

"Understood, sir," she said.

The screen went black. The captain-commander obviously considered the conversation done. Erza breathed out, and noticed Ukitake smiling.

"What's with you, then?" she said irritably.

"Nothing," he said. "I'm just glad you're still yourself."

Erza made a face. Somehow, she was not in the mood for praises.

"Come on," she said. "Let's go talk to the prisoners."

It was late, almost sundown, when Ichigo walked up to the run-down building the fullbringers called home. With the tumultuous events he had been through just yesterday, he didn't know how he'd gone through school today. He remembered none of it, as if it had never happened. Most of the weekend was a blur, actually. Most of what he knew about it, he'd heard from word of mouth by Erza. Apparently he had fought her, and lost- no surprise there- after being brainwashed, despite being warned against going after the fullbringers- again, no surprise there. He remembered bits and pieces of it, but it was like… a dream. Like something that hadn't really happened. Apparently, it was the effect that Tsukishima's fullbring had on people.

Tsukishima. He was dead now, gone forever, and Ichigo knew the rest of them would be, too, very soon. He had pressed Erza for details, and had begun searching for them after school. He hadn't been very effective. He had dragged his feet, because part of him was afraid of what he'd find. Would it turn out Ginjou was a manipulator after all? That their time together had just been a ruse?

In the end, he had forced himself to go, because he knew he couldn't let them leave without settling it first. Still, he stood quietly outside, without knocking on the front door, and he might have stood there a good long while if Ginjou hadn't walked outside to greet him.

"Hello," said Ichigo plainly, not sure what to say.

"Hey, champ," Ginjou said, the cheer in his tone as forced as the smile on his face. "Couldn't leave well enough alone, could ya?"

"How are you holding up?" asked Ichigo. "With… you know…"

Ginjou balled a fist, and took a deep breath. "We buried him today. The shinigami… they musta pulled some strings, because they got us a spot in the Karakura graveyard. He'll… he'll even get a headstone when they're done making one. He'll… he at least got a proper resting place."

"I can't pretend I know how that feels," said Ichigo severely, "but you have my condolences."

"Ah, shit, no need to pretend," Ginjou said, and sniffed, biting back what sounded like a sob. "He warped your mind and shit. Made you fight your own kin. You probably hate him, and you got cause to."

"I can't say I approved of it," said Ichigo diplomatically, "but I don't hold grudges. Especially since he already paid for his mistakes. I genuinely feel sorry for you."

"I…" Ginjou said, pausing to wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. "…Thank you, kid."

Ichigo just nodded, unsure of what to say. Consoling the grieving was not his strongest suit.

"So… what else brings you here, huh?" said Ginjou, his voice still trembling.

"I heard you were leaving," said Ichigo. "Couldn't let you do that without at least saying goodbye."

Ginjou nodded. "First thing in the morning. We'll be gone… I dunno, maybe forever. After all our hard work, we're still losing our home, it seems."

"Home is where you make it," Ichigo said uncertainly.

"It's true," said Ginjou weakly, "but… what she said, the commander lady…"

"Erza."

Ginjou nodded. "She said we're free now. As long as we don't run afoul of the Gotei by doing something stupid, they'll stay out of our hair. We… we at least have a future now. Even if it is… even if it's without…"

He groaned, and shook his head.

"Gotta stay strong, you know?" he said weakly. "For them. The ones I still got. They need me."

"Strong is overrated," said Ichigo. "Maybe they need you… but I think you need them just as much."

Ginjou nodded again, seeming overcome with emotion. His shoulders trembled, and his breath ran ragged, and a tear trailed down his cheek. Ichigo patiently waited, passing no judgment nor offering more sympathy.

"S-so…" Ginjou murmured, "goodbye, was it?"

"Yeah," Ichigo said, "for now."

"For now," Ginjou agreed. "Who knows? Maybe we'll come back one day."

"I hope you will."

"If the place is still standing… we'll come back and make a home here. A proper home. Like a proper family. I swear it, Ichigo, I won't let it be in vain! I won't let him dying be for- for-"

He choked on his words, and his body shook. He was in a bad way, pain written plainly on his face. Ichigo felt awkward, and feeling as if he should do something, he took a step forward, and placed a hand on the man's shoulder. It felt strange to offer this affection, strange to be the one to console Ginjou. In the short time they had come to know each other, he had been like an older brother, or a cool uncle, somebody wise to the world who always knew the right answer. To see him weak and broken down was… strange.

Strange, but not repulsive. Just… human.

"You'll do fine," Ichigo said quietly. "I'm sure it doesn't feel like it right now, but you will. You're strong."

Miserably, Ginjou nodded.

"There… is just one thing I had to ask," said Ichigo, wondering if this was the wrong time to ask, if he was being indelicate.

"Ask," said Ginjou, slowly pulling himself together. He had stopped shaking, controlling himself for now.

"All that time you took in Chad, Orihime, me… that was real, wasn't it? It wasn't a ploy to… to get to them, right?"

"Would- would you believe me if I said so?" said Ginjou weakly.

"…Yeah," said Ichigo, nodding. Perhaps it would be naïve, but it was hard not to believe somebody as miserable as the broken man before him.

"I just wanted to help," Ginjou said. "That's always it. I knew… I knew you were connected. I knew it was dangerous, but I saw… hell, I saw a lonely, angry kid who needed someplace to just be himself. Tried- tried to do that for you. I hope it worked."

"It did," Ichigo assured him. "Hell, I'll… miss you, Ginjou. All of you."

"Thank you," Ginjou whispered.

"If we hadn't come into your life-"

"Don't say that," said Ginjou, suddenly fierce. "I wouldn't have done different. Don't blame anyone for this. It's not your fault, not mine. Nobody coulda known. It's just…"

"It's a shit-show," Ichigo said, nodding.

"Fuckin' A," Ginjou muttered, "but I'd never do it different. I always try to help kids like you. The ones that are strong but don't know how to handle it. I… I won't stop doing that in the future, either. Wherever we go next, I'll still help the ones who need it."

"You wouldn't be Ginjou if you didn't," said Ichigo. "Goodbye, and the best of luck in life, man."

"Until we meet again," said Ginjou, offering his hand. Ichigo shook it.

"I'll hold you to that," he said. "You better come back one day. Who knows, maybe down the line I'll have kids of my own. Pain-in-the-ass kids who need a cool uncle."

"I'd like that," said Ginjou. "One day. Yes… one day."

There was little else to say, and after speaking briefly to the other fullbringers and saying his goodbyes, Ichigo headed out into the night, thinking long and hard about his family.

And so, the fullbring arc comes to a close. While the fullbringers did suffer a great loss, atleast their free to live their lives without fear, or alteast nearly as much. I do plan do bring Ginjou back at some point since ive come to really enjoy our interpretation of him, just don't expect him to play any major roles.

Im personally really happy with how all the fights ended, Erza and Ichigo's especially. Ive been meaning to bring in Blackwing armor for a while, and now seemed like the best time. But that's not the one that's really important now is it? No, Armadura fairy is.

Let me be clear on something. Armadura fairy will be Erza's most powerful version of her bankai. Period. Nakgami and the others wont be showing up, and to be honest, none of them had nearly as impressive feats as Erza destroying an entire island with it during her battle with her edolas counterpart. Even if Ichigo had has mask on when she used it, he would have stood no chance. This armor is simply on a completely different level than the others she has. In other words, she's now as powerful as some of the senior captians with it.

But such power comes at a price as ive shown. Think of this armor like Super Sayian 3 from Dragonball. Incredibly powerful but also very draining. Its meant to finish fights quickly. She may be able to increase the length of time she can wear it over the course of the story, but its an absolute last resort. I just figured it would be good to showcase it now rather than later so it wouldn't come across as deus ex machina.\

Now I understand some of you may be a bit concerned with Erza's actions and attitude at the end of all this. I can understand why, since its more cruel than Erza has ever been...But one has to realize that this is an Erza that has been hit by the death of close friends, yet another betrayal in the form of Aizen, Banishment from soul society and now the two people that are the most important to her getting brainwashed. Clearly she has been through quite a bit, and I think it would leave almost anyone with a chip on their shoulders.

I also hope that you all enjoyed our brief stay and view into Quincy Culture. We'll be seeing more in the future, but consider this a preview of sorts.

That's all I have to say this time around. Thank you so much for all the support, it means the world to us. If you want to keep on supporting us or show your appreciation for this story, or have any issues or criticism with how we're doing things, the best way for you to do so is to leave a review and give us feed back.