Ok, so we have another chapter for you guys this month. It's a bit on the shorter side of things, but I think you'll still enjoy all of this. No more delays, lets get onto the review.

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!

It should be illegal, thought Ichigo, to make anyone get up this early.

The prospect of Kuchiki Byakuya- the sister-killing bastard with a stick up his ass the size of Mount Fuji- having any authority over him was a bitter enough pill to swallow, but being made to get up at four in the morning to get his lessons done before school somehow felt even worse. It was adding insult to injury.

Even so, Ichigo stood ready in the spacious basement Urahara had created under his inconspicuous store, in a corner well away from anyone else. Ichigo got a sense that the captain wanted this whole affair kept to himself, and Ichigo felt the same. He had no interest in letting anyone know he was being strong-armed into learning a skill he didn't think much of, let alone from somebody as obnoxiously prideful as Kuchiki Byakuya. For whatever reason, Erza seemed to get along with him better, but Ichigo had no idea why. He had last interacted with the captain when the man had made egotistical demands to battle Ulquiorra by himself, an opponent clearly beyond him. Ichigo knew he had a bit of ego, himself, that he took too heavy a burden on himself, but next to the nobleman, he was downright humble.

"Substitute."

There it was. That tone, that authoritative, calmly superior tone that told him and everyone around that I'm better than you; I know better, I'm smarter, richer, and more skilled, and you are basically the dirt under my sandals.

Ichigo bit back a sarcastic reply, and said, "Yeah?"

"Let me assure you that whatever our differences, we are in complete agreement about this arrangement. I find it a frustrating waste of my time, and I have a very low opinion of you."

"Yup, definitely on the same page there," said Ichigo, shrugging.

"Nevertheless, neither of us has a choice. Do you recognize this, too?"

"…Yeah," Ichigo muttered, awkwardly scratching his head. "You got that honour shit or whatever, and I got my mom breathing down my neck about this whole shinigami business. And we both got my aunt on our asses, and she's even more stubborn than you or me."

"Quite," said Byakuya neutrally. "With that in mind, to make this bearable, I propose the following: I will make an effort to treat you politely, as if you were a peer, and I expect the same from you."

"Yeah, whatever," Ichigo muttered.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"Yes, I guess," Ichigo muttered. As if you were a peer. The bastard sure didn't get off to a great start.

"It is important we set these ground rules down, else this arrangement won't function. My assigned role is as instructor, teacher. You will respect my authority on the subject matter, and pay close attention. You will apply yourself, and focus. Is this clear?"

"You know," said Ichigo irritably, "if I got it right, you got more to lose than me. I ditch on this, I get my mom on me, and my aunt, and that'd be a pain in the ass. But you would be sent back home, and you wouldn't like that, would you?"

Byakuya stiffened.

"If I were you," said Ichigo, his eyes narrowing, "I'd adjust my damn attitude. I know you're used to talking down to people, but I'm not one of those people. You're a nobleman, but that means jack down here. Your social status? Nothing. You're strong, but not so strong I can't kick your ass. You wanna talk about respect? How about you show it before you demand it?"

"You ill-mannered little-" said Byakuya, heat briefly flaring through in his voice before he stopped himself. "…What I mean to say," he continued, and Ichigo could practically feel the effort he put into controlling himself, "is that I am used to a certain amount of civility. We are… obviously very different. But, this must work. This is a duty I am charged to carry out. You could certainly sabotage me. But, ask yourself, are you the kind of man who would? Are you petty and cruel, on top of your other character flaws?"

Ichigo crossed his arms, staring Byakuya in the eye. "You know, this whole… thing is a huge pain in the ass. But, no, I ain't. Hell, I can see Erza's reasoning behind it. I'm strong, but I got a lot to learn. But, man… why the hell couldn't she have got me her girlfriend to do it? She actually seems nice. Instead, I'm stuck with you, and it sucks."

"Life rarely gives us what we want," said Byakuya reservedly, "but every so often, it gives us what we need."

"Yeah, yeah," Ichigo said dismissively. "Save the fortune cookie crap for later. Let's just get on with this."

Byakuya nodded, seeming relieved. "Very well. Let us establish the basics, then. What do you actually know about the noble art of kido?"

"…Jack," Ichigo said, shrugging. "It was always about hitting things with a stick with me."

Byakuya sighed. "Very well, then. We shall start from the beginning. Kido, the demon arts, is not truly magic any more than a computer or electricity. It is the harnessing of reiryoku, manipulated into the framework of what we call kido, released as something we call a spell."

"So, how's it start?"

"With yourself. How acute is your sensory ability?"

"Not very," said Ichigo with a shrug.

"I forget your considerable inexperience," said Byakuya disapprovingly. "Normally, a shinigami of your power would have decades of experience mastering the basics. You have more power than most could dream of, yet your mastery of the most essential skills would be dwarfed by a first-year student at the academy."

"Rub it in, why don't you?"

"It is a fact," said Byakuya reservedly. "Do you at least know what reiryoku is?"

"I know that much," Ichigo said, annoyed. "Reishi is spiritual particles, reiatsu is energy output, and reiryoku is power aligned with the willpower of the user."

"Yes, exerting spiritual pressure is one way we channel our reiryoku according to our will. Another such example is kido. However, unlike the simple brute force of reiatsu, kido requires fine manipulation of one's reiryoku."

"Ichigo grumbled but let it slide. "Fine. How do I do that?"

"Focus. The first step is to learn how to grasp your own reiryoku and channel it, force it to work according to your will. Almost all spiritual goings-on happen subconsciously, without your knowledge or understanding. The first step is learning to make it happen when you will it to, not on its own."

"Makes sense," said Ichigo. "Sort of like how our organs work by themselves without us thinking about it, like how I can breathe without thinking about it?"

Byakuya nodded. "The most important step is to begin to master yourself. Once you have taken the first step, once you have bent even a part of your energy to your will, it is akin to a gate unlocked. If you accomplish this, you will be able to, theoretically, perform any spell so long as you are willing to learn it."

"Geez, kid, at this rate you'll bore him to death before he'll get the basics."

Ichigo turned around to see Yoruichi, a confident smirk on her face, seated on a rock. She waved at him. He turned back to see a strange expression on Byakuya's face, a brief visage of horror before enforced calm settled on his face again.

"Shihoin Yoruichi," he said, sounding like he had just eaten a whole lemon.

"You know, I'd normally be asleep now," she said, grinning, "but I wouldn't miss this for the world."

"If you criticize my method, then perhaps you would consider attempting to teach him yourself," said Byakuya, his voice strained.

"Oh, I'd never try and take your job from you. You're doing great. Never mind me. I'll be as quiet as a mouse."

Seeing Byakuya's discomfort and Yoruichi's glee, Ichigo felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for the man.

"Lay off him, yeah?" he said. "We're only just starting out."

"Look at you two getting along," Yoruichi said cheerily. "You'll be best friends before you know it!"

"Quiet as a mouse, remember?" said Ichigo, turning back to Byakuya.

"Okay!" said Yoruichi.

"Where were we?" said Ichigo, ignoring the cat-woman. "Manifesting your power, right?"

"…Yes," said Byakuya, his voice sounding a little odd. "Yes, exactly. You are something of a… special case, in that your intuitive skills and your power are considerable, yet your ability to control either one is lacking. You will find that the more control you exert over yourself, the better you will perform in all areas of life…"

As he spoke, his usual confidence began to return to his voice, and Ichigo nodded along, listening intently. He was far from the best teacher Ichigo had ever had- in fact, he was barely passable as one; his was a voice used to speaking without being interrupted or needing clarification- but all the same he was as skilled as he was knowledgeable.

This would suck, but Ichigo decided he'd just have to suck it up and get through it. Getting better at this, at kido… if it could keep him alive, he'd give it a shot.

"And then they just… let you go?"

Aizen sounded quizzical, almost incredulous behind his carefully maintained calm. Lanza stood to attention in front of his lord's desk, having just recounted every relevant fact of his mission. It had taken him some time to get back; stealthily exiting Karakura had meant walking all the way back to where he had first entered, and opening a garganta had taken a considerable amount of strength with the energy-suppressing enchantment Lord Aizen had cast on him.

"So they did, lord."

"I would not accuse you of lying, Lanza," said Aizen, leaning back in his chair, "but that is a very… strange method of dealing with an enemy spy."

Lanza kept himself from flinching. The implied accusation of deceit was one thing, but there was also the potential of being accused of something worse, of conspiring with a hostile. Choosing his words carefully, Lanza said, "As you say, lord, I would never lie to you. I believe these strange quincies have… different values than you."

"Different, how?"

"They called themselves knights, as I said earlier. Although one of them seemed eager to kill me, Sir Jugram Haschwalth refused repeatedly. Out of honour, I believe. Lord, you are as ruthless as this hollow society demands you to be. I do not believe they are. They seemed to value honour. Courtesy. Respect. Dignity. They seemed very… human in this regard."

"They sit on power rivalling that of a captain," Aizen murmured, "and yet they have ideas as antiquated as the Gotei's driving them?"

"So it would seem, lord."

"And, you think there are more of them?"

"That is my sense, lord, although I cannot be sure. They may represent a small organization, or a very large one. I believe they are, at least, representative of their order's elites."

"Good, good…" Aizen muttered, tapping a finger on his desk quickly, seeming to almost be lost in thought.

"They did not seem hostile, lord," Lanza added, "and as we might expect, they have no reason to side with the Gotei. But…"

"But we cannot rule them out as enemy combatants," Aizen muttered.

"I am sorry, lord," said Lanza, ashamedly. "I got myself captured, and with what I've learned, it's like we are no better or worse off than before."

"No, no," Aizen said dismissively, "on the contrary, we have learned plenty. We have confirmed the presence of multiple captain-level quincies, with all likeliness we've confirmed the existence of a still standing, long-lost order of quincies, and we've confirmed they have an agenda related to ongoing events. That is valuable intelligence on its own."

"They said they were there to help one of their own, lord."

"An obvious lie," Aizen said dismissively. "A secret order of deeply powerful quincies just happen to send their very best warriors to Karakura just as the Gotei deploys as mighty a force as they ever have to the same city? Even if it's true, they obviously have ulterior motives."

"What would you assume that motive is, lord?"

"I can't be sure…" Aizen said ponderously, cupping his chin with a couple of fingers. "If it were me, I would be waiting from the side-lines, ready to strike once my enemies had exhausted themselves fighting. But, as you say… they seem to have different values. If they truly do believe in honourable conduct, then they would do as the Gotei and announce themselves openly before committing themselves to war."

"But, of this we can't be sure."

"Exactly," Aizen said with a nod. "You said they would speak with us again?"

"They did not exactly leave their address, lord. It may just have been bluster, but they did say something to that effect."

"Then that is what we must do. I cannot afford to have an X factor complicating my plans at this late a stage."

"Surely you could adjust, sir?" said Lanza optimistically.

"Of course I could," said Aizen, waving his concerns away, "but this is a battle plan that rests on a knife's edge. I have accounted for the Gotei, for mighty Yamamoto, for every captain under his command, for their weakling auxiliaries and the exiled visored, but an unknown quantity of quincies? In a worst-case scenario, I might be forced to retreat and my plans put on hold."

Lanza nodded, uncertain. The fact that his lord took it this seriously meant the quincies had to represent considerable danger. Perhaps only potential danger, but danger all the same.

"Could you find them again?"

"They changed locations as I left, lord," said Lanza. "If your devices can locate their reiatsu, then yes, I am sure I could. But, if they've decided to suppress it… then I believe it will be a matter of whether they want to be found or not."

"It would seem that way, yes…" Aizen said thoughtfully. "But, then again, they saw you coming. If they wanted to remain hidden, they could have vanished there and then, or just killed you. They let themselves be found by you. It seems on some level, they wanted to speak their peace."

"Yes, lord."

"I'll see what Szayel can work up," said Aizen. "Be ready to perform the same kind of mission if I need you to. Should it come to that, I'll need you to approach them openly this time. If we wish to engage in diplomacy, we had best do it without seeming deceitful."

"Yes, lord," said Lanza, enthusiastically, "whenever you need me."

"And, Lanza?"

"Yes, lord?"

"How powerful, specifically, did they seem?"

Lanza shuddered. "The three women felt as if they contained the same force as a captain, but their leader… I hope I will never meet him on the battlefield. I would die before I had the chance to draw my blade, I believe."

"Quincies…" Aizen muttered. "Just what the devil is their game here?" He shook his head. "Dismissed. I will see you later, Lanza. Your service is appreciated."

"Yes, lord. Thank you, lord!" said Lanza, walking out in high spirits.

Aizen watched him go. This was an issue that would have to be resolved, and soon. The quincies might have no interest except to watch the Gotei burn, but he could not take that chance.

It took more than a few attempts for Soifon to do it. After a particularly intensive work session, she had realized she still had time for personal training. After another few hours by herself, down in the basement, it had at last been lunch. She had eaten it by herself, in silence, dreading what she knew she had been putting off. She'd have to face Yoruichi.

She could have done it already. The training was good, but she knew it was ultimately just an excuse. Procrastination. Putting off what she knew she had to do. The moment she finished her humble lunch, she had the strongest urge to march right back to her desk to continue working. There was always more work piling up. There were security reports to review, and they were of the utmost importance. She would be fully justified in continuing. It was not as if she had a team of highly qualified operatives reviewing all the incoming data. It was not as if everything had been quiet for weeks now.

There was always more work to be done. But, there always would be. Captaincy, command, it was an unending chore. But, unlike personal interaction, it was something she actually knew her way around. She wasn't like Erza Scarlet.

How did the woman do it? How did she just… get along with everyone? How could she just talk to people, smoothly, convince them her way was right just through what seemed like a mixture of audacity, charisma, and grit?

Soifon had extensive training. Her martial arts skills were, she knew, second only to one person. She was the best assassin in the Gotei, and she had handled its intelligence flow for decades. From a young age, she had trained not just to fight, but to pry the truth from the unwilling, to manipulate, to lead and make the right decisions in life-or-death situations. It had been her life, her everything.

None of that training had covered how to handle personal insecurity, or abandonment, or hate, or the complicated feeling of loving somebody she'd spent most of her life hating. For all her decades of experience, for being over a hundred years old and as exalted as a military commander could be without being captain-commander, she felt as helpless as a child right now. Murder was easy. A quick set of movements, perfectly timed, a knife sliding into a throat… that was a problem that could be assessed, tackled, and dealt with. Even if the result was failure, she would know how to assess that failure, analyze it, and prevent it from happening again.

How could she handle something like this?

By dealing with it.

The thought was obvious, painfully so. One didn't run from one's problems. That was cowardice of a kind her father would have beaten her senseless for. You face it.

But, as reasonable as that was, it took several attempts. It took for Soifon to decide, definitively, that I am doing this, right now, multiple times before she actually mustered the courage. Chastising herself for her indecision, her cowardice, she stood up at last. She had work to do, she reminded herself, and the sooner she put this behind her, the sooner she could get back to it.

She found Yoruichi in her room, lying stretched out on a bed, wearing nothing but an oversized, worn-out t-shirt. Soifon paused, just standing in the doorway, staring at the peaceful way her lady rested. Lady Yoruichi…

"Are you going to come in or not?" said Yoruichi.

Hurriedly, a little embarrassed, Soifon stepped inside, shutting the door behind her.

"I- I didn't wake you, did I?"

"I was just napping," Yoruichi said dismissively, sitting up. "I sensed you coming. I'm a light sleeper."

Soifon nodded. Sleep with one eye open: that was one of the first and most practical lessons a spy learned. Slowly, she approached the futon Yoruichi had been sleeping on, sitting down cross-legged next to it.

"So, um," said Yoruichi, as some time passed, "was there something you wanted?"

"…Yes," Soifon said hesitantly, falling silent. It would be easy to say. I was stupid. I'm sorry.

"So?" said Yoruichi.

"It's, um…" Soifon said. "I mean…"

She fell silent again, and an awkward silence descended over the room, like an unpleasant smog.

"Look," said Yoruichi, sitting up, "I get it. It's not easy for you. After what I did, I'm surprised you came to me-"

"You didn't do anything!" Soifon said fiercely, surprised at her own anger.

Yoruichi, looking likewise surprised, blinked. "I saw the way you looked at me. I can't even imagine how it must have been for you. I turned against you again-"

"No, you didn't!" Soifon said heatedly. "A cruel, manipulative bastard made you think something that wasn't true. That's not your fault, and it never was!"

"…I could have resisted," said Yoruichi. "Kisuke was able to. I should know better, but I didn't."

"Oh, please," Soifon said dismissively. "All of one person was able to see through it, and he's brilliant, for all that I can't stand him. Everyone fell victim. That's not their fault, and it sure as hell isn't yours!"

"Soifon…"

"I've been stupid and unfair," Soifon said, realizing she was, more than anything, angry with herself. "I've blamed you. At least in the moment, I did. That was stupid, and I should know better."

"Soifon, with what I did to you before…" Yoruichi said, quietly. "I don't blame you at all. I abandoned you once."

"I blame me," Soifon shot back. "I should be able to look past it. He- he managed to hit me someplace very, very sensitive, but it's not fair for me to take it out on you! So… I'm sorry."

"Little bee…" Yoruichi said, shaking her head. "I think I deserved it. It's nothing compared to what you had to go through."

"An eye for an eye isn't how this sort of thing works," Soifon said, shaking her head. "Not… being together."

"Soifon…"

"I wanted to talk to you, there and then," said Soifon, "but I didn't have the nerve. Instead I ran away from it, like a coward, and I let it fester until our commander set me straight. So… here I am. Sorry. For being stupid."

Yoruichi nodded slowly. "Alright."

"It's not alright," Soifon insisted. "Why are you okay with this? Why would you be okay with me being this unfair?"

"Look, I told you-"

"No, really," said Soifon, "why? Because that's no way to act. It makes me ashamed of myself."

Yoruichi paused. "It's because I feel like I don't deserve you."

Soifon shook her head. "That again?"

"The way I hurt you-"

"The past is the past, and it can't be undone," said Soifon bluntly. "Focus on now. What makes the both of us happier? Being apart, or being together?"

"…Together," said Yoruichi slowly.

Soifon nodded. "So, don't let me be this stupid. It's my responsibility not to, but if I'm this unfair, don't hold back. Call me out. You deserve better than that, so stand up for yourself."

Yoruichi extended a hand, and Soifon took it. She gently squeezed it.

"You've really grown, little bee," said Yoruichi.

"I don't feel like it," Soifon muttered. "I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing. For all I know, I could have walked in here and ruined everything."

"That's how it works for most people with these sorts of things," said Yoruichi with a smile. "Relationships aren't easy. Especially for… people like us."

Soifon nodded. "That's as true a statement as I've ever heard," she muttered irritably. "I wish…"

"What?"

"It's ridiculous, and pointless."

"Doesn't matter to me."

Soifon sighed. "Sometimes I wish I were… more normal. I like where I am. I like what I do. But, when I see other people… let's just say that lately, I've started to see the value in being around other people."

"Aww, you really have grown," said Yoruichi, a little teasingly. "Maybe one of these days I'll take you shopping. We'll make a girl out of you yet."

"I hope I'll die before I'm that far gone," Soifon said, making a face.

Her heart was beating. The swirl of emotions inside: anger, frustration, insecurity, fear, they were slowly starting to die down. It had been… so, so much easier, after all, than she had imagined. All it had taken was that first step.

"You know," said Yoruichi, "if… if you'd like it, we could maybe go out, though. When all this is over, and you're not so busy with work."

"…Maybe. Yes. I'd be willing to at least try it," said Soifon, finally smiling back.

"For now…"

"For now I actually have to get to work," said Soifon, "but… I'll want somebody to keep me warm at night."

Yoruichi chuckled. "I'll be right here, little bee."

Soifon nodded, and stood up. "Thank you," she said.

"What for?"

"Nothing," said Soifon, "or maybe everything. I'm not sure. Um… see you around."

"See you around," said Yoruichi, lying back as Soifon walked out, her heart thumping.

Momo sat back, letting out an irritated grunt. She had been distracted all day, tending to her duties in a half-hearted daze.

What had Tobiume meant? Momo had done everything she had been asked to do. She had been diligent. She had gotten to know the spirit closer than ever before; she had pierced through the veneer of her cryptic nature and gotten a sense for who the blade was. She was approaching unity, full understanding, the key to bankai… and now she had been thrown this?

Be Hinamori Momo. Tobiume had thrown cryptic statements and riddles at her for as long as Momo had known her, but somehow, this most direct and forthright statement was the most puzzling of all.

Wasn't she already herself?

It couldn't be literal. That would be a childish interpretation. Be yourself didn't mean just to exist as a mass of spiritual particles with a name and a mind. Be who you are…

Be who you truly are, maybe? Did Tobiume mean Momo was not living up to her fullest potential? But, wasn't that what bankai training was all about- accomplishing one's truest potential through hard work, both physical and mental?

Be Hinamori Momo. Be the person she should be?

Or, maybe she meant something else. Maybe… she had a different idea. Something sparked in Momo's head. Be yourself. Be your own? But, Momo was her own. She was indebted to no one, under nobody's thrall. She was not Aizen's puppet anymore. She was freer than she ever had been. She had friends, a girlfriend even, but… most people had those things. That wasn't tying herself down; that was life. All the captains she knew of had family and friends of a sort, and they all had bankai. Erza, in particular, craved it.

Momo balled a fist, frustratedly, and felt like throwing a kido spell at the papers in front of her, incinerating them. The last obstacle to her progress, to becoming useful to Erza, to be the best she could be… and it was a stupid, nonsense riddle like this?

Erza had just finished a patrol route by herself, having insisted to get out of the office and do something, besides pushing a pencil, even if it was as mundane as trailing across the cityscape watching nothing at all happen. It felt good to be out in the open air, sword by her side and a breeze in her face. Her route finished, she had decided to take lunch out in town. Stopping by to retrieve her gigai, she had headed out, looking for someplace to eat. She was just eyeing up a cheap wok restaurant when suddenly she recognized a face. It was a girl, a foreigner with black hair and a white cap, standing out like a sore thumb against the Japanese crowd around her.

"Hello!" she cried out, waving and grinning, walking toward Erza.

"…Hello," said Erza, nodding at the girl as she approached. "You're… Bambi, right?"

"You remember me, huh?" said Bambi cheerfully.

"You make quite an impression," said Erza. She was a colourful sort, Erza recalled; she had only seen the woman once before, when Bambi had unwittingly crashed Erza and Momo's first proper date. Erza had bailed her out at a bookstore, short of money and making a scene.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," said Bambi casually. "I've got whatchacallit, charisma. By the bucketload."

"Not to mention humility," said Erza, smiling cheekily.

"Oh, nobody's as humble as me. It's my one flaw."

Erza laughed. Bambi's mannerisms were crude to the point of bluntness, but at the same time they were oddly disarming. It almost reminded Erza of her old guild, a long time ago, that kind of boisterous confidence…

"Well," said Erza, "nice seeing you again, but I'm here to grab lunch…"

"Please, let me handle it," said Bambi, "as a thanks for last time 'round, you know?"

"…Sure," said Erza. She had some time, after all, and her duties for the day were mostly taken care of. If there was an emergency, she'd know.

"Right this way," said Bambi, leading Erza inside the restaurant. Five minutes later, they were both sitting down with a steaming hot pile of spicy wok. Bambi had paid, leaving a handsome tip on top of it all.

"I guess you didn't forget your wallet this time, huh?" said Erza, digging into her food.

"My dad's pretty loaded," said Bambi, her chopsticks laying into the food in a manner that could best be described as assault. Restraint did not seem to be her strong suit.

Erza nodded. She wasn't sure what to make of this woman. She seemed nice enough in her own way, but Erza sensed her way of being didn't make her too many friends.

"Anyway," said Bambi, "I just wanted to, uh, say thanks for last time. And sorry for, um, intruding."

"It's alright."

Bambi shook her head, and smiled awkwardly.

"Shit, I'm bad at this," she said apologetically. "This whole… y'know, talking to people and not fucking it up. I only got my family for this, and they're stuck with me."

"I get that," said Erza. "I'm… pretty similar, actually."

"You?" Bambi snorted. "Look at you; you seem like you got it all together. A cute girlfriend, probably a nice job…"

"It takes practice. A lot of it," said Erza, "but being around people isn't always easy. When I was younger, I'd usually just beat people into submission if they weren't doing things the way I wanted. I'm good at yelling, but the rest? That takes practice."

"A woman after my own heart," said Bambi, nodding appreciatively. "I'm good with my hands, too. A good beating: nothing like it, whether you're giving it or taking it."

Erza raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like you know a lot about that sort of thing."

"I'm in the military," said Bambi hastily, "in, uh, my homeland. Most of my family is, too."

"Following dad's footsteps?"

"Something like that," said Bambi, "but he doesn't much like the way I act. Too rowdy."

"Sounds like the military's not the best place for you, then."

"I get by," said Bambi, "but yeah, that's me. I'm kind of a fuckup, except the part where I get to lay a beating on some bastard."

"You're probably too hard on yourself."

"Nah," said Bambi, "I know my limits. I'm just lucky they put up with me."

Erza gave her a look. Some people, she knew, never thought too highly of themselves no matter how well they fared. She could sympathize. Nothing ever seemed like enough, sometimes.

"So…" Erza said, after taking another bite, "you… didn't seem too fazed about the fact that I was actually dating a woman back then."

Bambi shrugged. "Be weird if I was. There are some backwards dipshits anywhere you go in this world, but they're wrong and I'm right, so who cares?"

Erza nodded.

"Besides," continued Bambi, "I like girls, too. And guys. Anyone hot enough, really."

Erza raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Well… that's good. Actually… I was wondering something, then."

"Better not be about girls." Bambi snorted. "I'm not great with 'em."

Erza sighed. "It seems we're more similar than I had hoped," she said, shaking her head.

"Sorry," Bambi said with a shrug. "Fuckin' women. Who knows how they think, right?"

Erza laughed. "You're pretty strange, you know that?"

"It's that raw charisma. Or just autism, I dunno," said Bambi with a shrug, grinning. "I know I ain't normal. But, then again, I don't wanna be."

"…Neither do I," said Erza. "I think we're a different sort, you and I. Exceptional people are rarely conventional."

"I'd think you were hitting on me if you didn't already have someone," said Bambi cheekily.

"Don't mistake my words-"

"Relax, I'm just screwing with ya," said Bambi with a laugh. "It's nice of you to say, but me? I'm just kind of a nerd who spends too much time on the Internet, when I'm not doing… army stuff."

"Then we are different at least in some ways. I can barely seem to take an afternoon off from work."

"Workaholic, huh? What do you do?"

"…I'm, uh, in charge of this special operation. For, um, a private security firm," said Erza, hoping her horrible track record with lying wouldn't come back to bite her. If Bambi noticed the falsehood, though, she gave no sign of it.

"That's cool. So, um…"

"Yes?"

"You gonna be in town for a while?"

"For the time being," said Erza.

"Then, maybe we could do this again some time," said Bambi. "It'd be nice to have someone to talk to. When you're not too busy, that is."

Erza nodded. "Sure. If you find me when I have time, I'm game."

Bambi nodded back. "Cool, cool. You seem, y'know, pretty cool."

"Thanks," said Erza, feeling oddly touched. The idea of having friends outside her extended family hadn't occurred to her, but… why not? It would mean lying, concealing the truth of her real life… but then again, who knew; maybe she'd end up trustworthy enough to know?

"Well, I guess I'd better get going before I start stuttering and this whole thing becomes a shitshow of awkward silences 'cause we're both too socially inept, right?"

"It'll be fine," said Erza with a smile, "but actually, now that you mention it…"

"Lunchtime's up?"

"Yeah," said Erza with a nod. "Duty calls, you know?"

"Don't I ever," said Bambi. "Always some superior officer breathing down your neck, right?"

"In this case, I'm the one doing the breathing," said Erza, standing up. She grabbed a napkin, and scribbled down a number on it. "Send me a text at this number some time. I'll let you know if I'm free."

Bambi took the napkin. "See ya 'round, Erza," she said.

"Bye, Bambi," said Erza.

As she walked out, Erza wondered about this whole thing. Would it even be responsible to be around a normal human, with all the danger around her? Was this a mistake?

Well, probably not. Hopefully not.

The room was dark and gloomy, as most rooms in Hueco Mundo were. Aizen had considered brightening it with artificial light, as he had done for his throne room, his office, and most spaces where his arrancar tended to crowd, but something about the gloom was… a little charming. Brightness would ruin the atmosphere. It was a silly little indulgence, but the dark seemed appropriate as a place to discuss these matters.

He sat in a well-made chair at the far end of the room, at the head of a long, large table whose bright white material contrasted with the overall darkness of the room. By his side sat Ulquiorra, as dispassionate as ever, and Kaname, nearly as stoic as the espada sitting opposite him. Last to saunter in- of course- was Gin, no doubt deliberately late. By over half an hour, no less. His habit of testing Aizen's patience had not waned, nor had Aizen's determination to never appear irked or frustrated with these childish games. He would not be provoked.

"Sorry, y'all," Gin said, with his lazy drawl. "Lost track of time. This whole meetin' was sprung on me real sudden, ya know?"

As sudden as four hours ago, thought Aizen. Outwardly, though, he did nothing but gesture to a chair. "Please, be seated."

Gin, of course, sat down opposite of the chair that had been gestured to. Aizen resisted the urge to smirk. So predictable.

"I've got business we need to discuss," said Aizen. His tone was neutral and matter-of-fact, direct. It entirely lacked the flattering warmth he employed with the Consejo de la Sombra; these three were the true inner circle, the only ones privy to the most important parts of the plan, Kaname and Ulquiorra for their undying loyalty, and Gin for his predictability. The Consejo was not worthless, but ultimately its purpose was simply to keep close some of his strongest, most independent espada, to be assured of their loyalty. Where fear or indebtedness would not make a great motivator, faith would serve as an adequate replacement. Here, though, in this room, there was no room left to pretend. There was no need for it. Here, in the dark, he spoke as he needed to. It always felt liberating.

"The time is near," said Aizen quietly, leaning back in his chair. "Soon, very soon, the invasion will commence. We are almost finished wrapping up the last necessary preparations for war. After that… it will be time for my plans to reach fruition."

"Really, now?" said Gin, looking up with faux excitement. "Any specifics, cap'n? We been 'almost there' for over a month now, ain't we?"

"Show some respect!" demanded Kaname, making a fist.

"At ease," commanded Aizen, raising a hand. Kaname's posture became a little less stiff, but he still glared at Gin- quite well for a blind man, Aizen noted.

"You may well ask," said Aizen with a shrug. "I expect it will be within no more than two weeks. I have a… loose end or two to tie up, and Szayel has projects left to finish."

"Like them papers that traitor Grimmjow ran off with?" said Gin, and Aizen felt sure he sounded a little more smug than usual.

"Exactly like those," said Aizen, "along with another surprise or two. Ulquiorra," he said, turning to the white-skinned espada, "how is morale among my warriors?"

"Restless, sir," said Ulquiorra, sounding as apathetic as ever. "The lower ranks wish for nothing but direct violence. Higher up… I believe the rest of the Consejo is quite dedicated to your cause, but even they seem to grow impatient. Even so, your will is fully respected."

"That bein' 'cause you snap the necks of the ones that ain't patriotic enough, eh?" said Gin.

"Yes," said Ulquiorra, staring the traitor shinigami in the eye, "exactly."

Aizen took some satisfaction in this. Ichimaru Gin had been used to intimidating everyone around him, psychopath that he was, but here in Hueco Mundo, he was surrounded by people who had seen his ilk and worse, and were less than impressed with him.

"Then I can expect them not to fight amongst each other when the battle comes?" said Aizen.

"Some old grudges persist, but your choice to recruit from hollows with no major history with each other seems to have paid off, lord," said Ulquiorra.

"Good," said Aizen. "Then, we'll strike as soon as preparations are finished. So long as my espada and their assorted servants are spread out, I can expect them to kill a few captains. If a handful of the enemy dies, I will consider it sufficient."

"Gee, that's cold," said Gin. "They hear that, they might think you ain't so concerned about their well-bein'."

Aizen narrowed his eyes.

"Not that I'd gossip," Gin added quickly. "I got a sealed gob, me. Ain't nothin' gettin' out from me."

"Cease these childish games, Ichimaru," said Kaname.

"He's right," said Aizen with a shrug. "They're expendable. All of you are. For the prize I aim to take, there is no cost that is too great. So long as I can kill enough captains, I will have what I desire. Once the Gotei is mine…"

"That'd mean dealin' with the old man," said Gin, "and that one, I recall, you was pretty wary of."

"I've made arrangements," said Aizen cryptically, determined not to share them with Gin. "It will all be taken care of, old fools included."

"As expected," said Kaname. "You are our lord, after all, second to none."

Sometimes, Kaname's flattery, genuine though it was, rubbed Aizen the wrong way. Such closemindedness represented the opposite of the enlightenment he sought. Aizen made no show of it, though. "Of course, Kaname. But, we must be wary, and everyone must play their part."

"What'll we do about the Gotei knowin' your real plan?" said Gin.

"It changes nothing," said Aizen. "I expect they will attempt to seal off the city while we battle them. It makes no difference- they will not have the time to do anything permanent to the city."

"Unless they slaughter a few thousand," said Gin.

This time, Aizen smirked. "None of them have the strength of conviction to do this. Not even the old man."

"Hell of a lot to stake your faith on," said Gin.

"I know my enemy, inside and out," said Aizen, "as intimately as any attacker could ask for. Truth be told, most of these delays have been about getting to know my own forces more than anything else. These inconsequential little incursions, they provided a host of battle data, and have allowed me to adjust my expectations appropriately. I know my enemy as well as could be expected, and I know my allies as well as I'll ever be able to."

Ulquiorra nodded. "I stand ready, sir. Command me."

"I know you do," said Aizen, assured that at least one person in this room was indisputably loyal. Ulquiorra was attached to him like a dog to his master, bereft of purpose and meaning without him. What more could he want from a servant?

"There is one last feint I would set up before we engage battle," said Aizen, turning to the espada, "one that would suit you, I believe."

Ulquiorra nodded, and Aizen produced a remote. The press of a button started a projector, generating an image on one of the dark walls. It was a picture of summery brightness, taken in Karakura. A human girl was in the centre of it.

"She looks… familiar," said Ulquiorra.

"Inoue Orihime," said Aizen, "possessed of some… interesting abilities. But, more importantly, she is the adopted daughter of Commander Erza Scarlet, not to mention close with the anomalous subject, Kurosaki Ichigo."

"You wish for me to kill her, to disrupt enemy morale," said Ulquiorra flatly.

Aizen shook his head. "Not quite. Certainly, it would disrupt our foes, but… I have a better idea."

"I am listening, lord."

"At my command, go into the world of the living under concealment. Intimidate and kidnap her. Threaten the lives of her loved ones if she does not come along. Bring that fear to the very core of her mind. Take her here, where she will become our hostage."

"Plannin' some fun times, eh?" said Gin.

"She will be inconsequential," said Aizen dismissively, refusing to rise to the bait, "except as bait. With her taken, and with access to the appropriate technology through Urahara Kisuke, I hope to lure several combatants into Hueco Mundo prematurely. If we can eliminate them before the battle commences…"

"Then half the battle is won already," said Kaname, nodding approvingly. "A crafty strategy, lord. A few captain-tier fighters short, and our own forces will be all the more effective. But, say… what of the girl, when she has fulfilled her purpose?"

"I care not," said Aizen with a shrug. "Return her home if you feel like it. Like I said, she will be of no consequence once her role is fulfilled."

Kaname nodded, seeming satisfied, and Aizen noted that the man's sense of justice had not gone away. An advantage and a disadvantage at the same time, that.

"I shall do as you ask, sir," said Ulquiorra, with as close to emotion as Aizen had ever heard the espada speak. "I shall bring her before you after carrying out your orders to the letter."

Aizen nodded. "As I know you will," he said reassuringly.

"When, lord?" said the espada.

"Soon," Aizen said cryptically. "Very soon indeed…"

Gin snorted. "Ain't I heard that before somewhere?"

Semi-canon omake time!

(Note, just to avoid an issue that was encounter from the last one. We are NOT making fun of berserk. The joke is simpy grimmjow reacting to the series in a hilarious way because I think its something he would enjoy. Ok? Ok good.)

Momo ducked just in time to avoid the paper projectile flying over her head. It slammed into a rock with a faint 'thud', and Momo, turning around, could swear she saw pieces of rock dropping to the ground with it. The one who had thrown it had thrown it like he meant business. She approached the fallen volume, and dusty and torn though it looked, she could still read the title. Berserk, Volume 12. As she looked, she saw another book angrily hurled through the air. Refusing to let any type of writing be further abused, even if it was a horrid, gory comic book, Momo leapt into the air, catching it before it hit the ground. She landed nimbly on her feet, and looked at the book in her hands. Berserk, Volume 13. Retrieving the other book, she walked toward Grimmjow's regular hangout space. She had really just come to check in on him, in part because she was curious about how he'd taken to this new intake of human culture. By the looks of it, it could have gone better.

"I, er, I found your books," said Momo meekly as she approached Grimmjow. The former espada sat cross-legged, a sullen look on his face, the manga volumes spread around him.

"Don't want 'em," he said bluntly, his tone stubborn and a little angry.

"You seemed very excited about them before, though, right?" said Momo, deciding to pry a little. It would be a shame to have spent a small fortune on these books only for them to be thrown out.

"Now I ain't."

"Well, why?"

"Mind yer business, will ya?" Grimmjow snarled.

"…You know," said Momo, "I know you liked these just yesterday. Is something… wrong?"

Grimmjow just stared at her. "This was some kinda sadistic trick, wasn't it? Get me hooked on this shit, and then…"

"Then what?" said Momo, surprised. "I swear, I've never read them myself."

"Yeah? Well, you know what? You're right. I did like 'em. Until I read those stupid fuckin' books I chucked away."

"Oh, dear," said Momo. "Did something bad happen?"

"Something bad?" spat Grimmjow. "I mean, you follow this Guts guy, right? From when he's a little dipshit until he gets to be a huge killing machine, and he has a shitty fuckin' life. Born from a corpse, beaten by his dad, raped as a kid, fighting since he was old enough to walk… and then he slowly gets his life sorted out, gets to climb to the top, get a girlfriend and some stupid title, and then… his best friend just up and betrays him and shits on everything he did, and now he's worse off than ever! That's the trick, you dumb bitch! It suckers you in with this incredible art, this intense life story laced with violence and blood and then boom, all that shit is gone and it's worse than ever. Whoever wrote this is an asshole!"

His voice had grown louder and louder as he spoke, until he was almost screaming. Seeming to catch himself, he said, "I mean, not that I give a shit. It's just some dumb human story. I don't care."

"Clearly," said Momo.

"Was that sarcasm?" Grimmjow said, glaring at her.

"I would never."

"Why the fuck do people even do this?" Grimmjow said irritably. "Write shitty stories where shit goes bad? It makes me- I mean, it'd make them feel like shit, too!"

"…That's kind of the point," Momo explained. "All art is supposed to make you feel something, even sadness. A lot of humans appreciate tragedy."

Grimmjow blinked.

"Humans are insane," he said, shaking his head. "Why the fuck would they want to feel bad?"

"It's not that simple," said Momo. "Besides, there are quite a few volumes left, and I bet this Guts person is still around berserking his way through life, right?"

"If you call that life."

"Look," said Momo, "it's all about… setting the stage. It's bad now, but that means it can only go up from there, right?"

"Fuckin' optimists…" Grimmjow growled.

"I've heard the rest of the series involves a lot more violence," Momo said.

"Fuck that."

"And character development."

"What, into being even more of an asshole?"

"There's this part where the skull knight fights Griffith."

"Really? When in the fuck- I mean, who cares?"

"Alright." Momo sighed. "I guess I'll just take these back, then…"

"Fuck no," Grimmjow snapped. "You think you can just take my shit?"

"So, you do want them?"

"No!"

"Alright, then-"

"These are stupid fuckin' books, and I hate 'em," said Grimmjow, "but I gotta know how much I need to hate 'em, okay?"

"…That makes sense," Momo lied.

"Gimme those fuckin' books," Grimmjow grunted. He paused, and said, "You said there's more of that fuckin' skull knight?"

"That's what I hear," said Momo.

"…Yeah, okay," Grimmjow muttered. "Since you fuckin' insist, I'll read till the end. For the skull knight, 'cause he's a badass."

"I didn't insist-"

"Yes you did," said Grimmjow sharply. "Now, gimme Volume 14, woman!"

"…Roger that," Momo said, handing him the next volume. This experiment in human culture seemed, in its own way, to be quite a success.

Well, that's it for chapter 91. It looks like Aizen is beginning to move things along for the next phase of his big plan. Will things go like they did in cannon, or will things be dramatically different? There's only one way to find out.

Not much I have to say this time around. I eagerly look forward to your thoughts on this chapter.