Sorry for the wait everyone, but I'm back with another chapter of The Death and Life of Erza Scarlet. I'm super excited to hear what you all have to say about this chapter in particular. We're nearing the end of the arrancar arc, and we should be done in around 5 or so chapters, at least regarding the Karakura town battle. Please leave me a review with your thoughts on this chapter, it would really mean a lot to me.
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 was total pandemonium. Ryuken had always been good at controlling his emotions, but looking out at his city now stirred things inside him that he found difficult to manage. Central Karakura had been turned into a war zone. Buildings were crumbling, dust was kicked up all around the place, and the cries of the dying filled the air. Worse than that, most of those cries came from living human beings, fleeing in terror from enemies they couldn't even see.
Ryuken was not a hero. He had made a point of not sticking out his neck for others, to only mind his own business and conduct himself professionally as a doctor, to simply live his life as he saw fit. But, everyone had their breaking point, and when he had become aware of the chaos about to ensue- long before anyone else- he had given some sharp orders, opened the doors of his hospital, and prepared emergency space for a flood of wounded refugees. The hospital director had protested; Ryuken had punched him in the face and continued. He would probably get fired, he noted, but that was assuming he would live long enough to see those consequences.
Right now, the hospital was overflowing with frightened people, many of them wounded. There was talk of a terrorist attack, something Ryuken was happy to let them believe- it made more sense than explaining the truth to them. The hospital was pushed past its maximum capacity several times over, and many of the wounded would die within hours without even receiving so much as a painkiller, let alone real medical attention. The real point, Ryuken knew, was keeping safe those not too injured to die yet. With the hospital overcrowded, large numbers of people were huddled outside, barely kept in check by a panicked security force who had signed up for, at most, the odd drug addict or mentally ill patient, not these massive crowds of people scared for their lives. Everything hung by a thread, and Ryuken felt icy cold anger as he stared out at the cityscape from the hospital roof.
The shinigami had done this. They had taken their accursed war here, to his home, destroying everything he had taken care to build. Suddenly, to himself, he forgave his son his impetuousness and virtue. Suddenly, he understood the urge to fight and to kill.
But, as furious as he was, Ryuken was still the master of his own emotions. He would stay here and protect the people in his care. That was his role as a doctor, the Hippocratic Oath that was one of the few things in life he truly believed in. Usually that meant administering medicine or diagnosing illnesses. Today, it meant something else entirely.
Three arrancar appeared, a hundred yards away. Though he could not hear them, he could sense their intent, their malice and glee. They had abandoned combat to go hunting, to prey on the richly spiritual souls of Karakura. It was a hollow's nature to be greedy, gluttonous and self-serving, and it was this predictability that meant not a single one of them had even seen him yet. Ryuken raised his bow, pulled back the string and closed one eye, aiming. He could see them now, approaching the crowd, seconds away from lunging. Many of the people could see them, backing away in a panic.
The first arrow struck the arrancar at the back through the skull. It fell over, limp. Quickly, Ryuken charged another shot, breathing in to steady his aim. He let a second arrow fly, catching the foremost one in the neck. There was a spray of blood and then he too fell, as dead as the first one. The third one looked around, and Ryuken could sense its panic, trying to discern where the attacks had come from. Fearing for its life, it dashed to the left, away from the crowds. Ryuken drew his bow again, carefully tracing the arrancar's movement, and let it fly. The arrow ran right through its skull, and the last arrancar tumbled to the ground, his brains scattered across the pavement. Lowering his bow, Ryuken scanned the immediate vicinity, his long disused senses reaching out. None near, but more were bound to come this way.
Ryuken flexed his hand a little, looking at the bow curiously. Despite all these years of avoiding his powers, of using them only when necessary, he hadn't missed a single shot yet. It came back to him like no time had passed at all. It was like riding a bicycle. He almost felt a little pride at the thought.
The crowds were murmuring, and many were pointing in his direction. The shots would have been clearly visible to anyone with enough spiritual energy, and Karakura had plenty of those. Such a public display of power was anathema to both shinigami and quincy, but Ryuken cared for neither one. They were well past the point of maintaining a façade.
Suddenly, his cell phone vibrated. Still holding up his bow, Ryuken took the call.
"Ryuken?"
"Masaki?" he said sharply. "Where are you? Are you alright?"
"We're fine. Ichigo came by and made us hurry out of here. We're on a train headed south right now."
"Good," said Ryuken, feeling relieved. He knew they could take care of themselves, but the best way to avoid being hurt was to be away from danger. "You're doing the right thing. It's a war zone down here."
"Are you okay? I know you're out of practice. Maybe you should come join us too…"
"Just a second," said Ryuken, spotting an arrancar in the far distance. Aiming with the one hand, his eyes narrowed. The shot was weaker, charged without pulling back the string, but he let it fly. It struck center mass, right in the chest, and the arrancar fell over and twitched. It did not get up again. "Alright, I'm back," he said calmly. "No, I think I'll be fine. Don't worry, I'm somewhere safe right now."
"Well, if you're still in Karakura… I was wondering if you could do me a favor."
"Anything."
"It's Ichigo. He stayed behind. I know he's strong and all, but… I worry. Do you know if he's alive? I'm sorry to ask, I know you hate using your gifts-"
"One second. I'll check," said Ryuken, closing his eyes. Concentrating, he let his senses reach as far as they could. This part was a little more complicated, but his training held true. First he tried homing in on Ichigo's position, but it was chaos, a thousand different sources warring with each other at once. Concentrating further, he homed in on the biggest sources. The most powerful arrancar. The captains. He calmly sensed for each one of them, distinguishing between shinigami and hollow, between those fighting and those at rest. Then, finally he sensed it- fainter than before, and with a worrying overtone of hollow to it, there was Ichigo's signature. Far weaker than usual, but seeming quite stable.
"Ryuken?"
"He's alive," said Ryuken confidently. "He's at the periphery of my sensing abilities, but I can feel him. He's… stable. I think he's just fought a heavy battle. With any luck, he'll be too worn out to go for another."
"Oh, thank goodness," Masaki said, sounding relieved. "I don't want to trouble you anymore, but-"
"I'll keep an eye out," said Ryuken. "If I sense things getting drastically worse, I'll try to intervene."
She was probably the only one who could have made him say that. Nobody else was worth getting further entrenched in this mess for, except maybe his fool of a son- and he had been retrieved by his mysterious new friends already.
"Would you?"
"I promise," said Ryuken. "Unfortunately, I think I have to go now. Please stay safe, and don't come back here until this blows over."
"Of course."
"Goodbye, Masaki," said Ryuken, ending the phone call before she could respond. In the distance, he sensed another half-dozen coming, and quickly. This part might actually be challenging.
Gin was a prodigy of murder, and always had been. In normal circumstances, he would have delighted in facing a foe like Hitsugaya. But, not one but two things weighed on him as he dodged away from another freezing blast of ice, firing out a long strike from Shinsou.
Rangiku was there. Gin was not empathic by any means, but he did know what it looked like to come at somebody with the intent to kill, and she was, by all means, trying her hardest. That was an irritant. He had set his entire life's path on following Aizen because of her. She was the only person besides himself that he had ever cared for. He would kill her if necessary, but he didn't want to. That was an uncomfortable, unusual position for Gin, who was used to fighting without restraint.
Secondly, there was no denying she and her captain made a formidable team. Gin had quickly found himself forced to take them fully seriously, and he saw no obvious path to victory yet. They could, potentially, defeat and kill him here. If they did, Aizen would live. If they did, all of Gin's moves up till now would have been meaningless.
Fighting should be a fun game leading up to a satisfying murder. It was the prelude to watching the lights go out in somebody's eyes, of feeling the absolute power of having taken somebody's life. It wasn't supposed to be… complicated.
Was this how others felt all the time? Intrusive, irrational emotions clouding their judgment and distracting from the real point of it all? Gin had realized early on that he wasn't normal, and now more than ever he felt that it was a blessing, not a curse, to be the way he was. If normal meant being this distracted when it all mattered, then it could never be worth it.
Clad in his dragon armour, wings extended, Hitsugaya made another pass, sword held in both hands. Gin sped through the air, feeling it freeze around him, a tell-tale sign of a coming wave of ice. All around him there was an all-encompassing avalanche of cold, and Gin barely made it away as the air where he had stood turned into a huge block of ice, dropping toward the ground beneath them. Hitsugaya came in with a heavy overhead swing; Gin evaded and followed up with a quick stab forward as his blade extended. A wing of ice caught the blow, having been positioned in anticipation of the counter-attack. The wing twisted aside, and Gin felt his blade jerked to the side. He instantly recalled the blade, bringing it up to a parry just in time.
Hitsugaya locked blades with Gin, giving him an intense glare.
"The boy prodigy," Gin said, having dropped his exaggerated accent. "I always wondered about you. They used to call me a prodigy too. Ever wonder who is better?"
"I don't define myself by other people," said Hitsugaya coldly.
"Good boy, good boy," said Gin, shoving him back and aiming another piercing strike. Hitsugaya parried, but Gin shot again and again, a barrage of stabs coming at the boy captain at impossible speeds. Raising his wings, he took a defensive stance.
"The difference between us, little captain," said Gin, feeling his heart pounding, "is experience. You are good. Just not good enough."
He would have kept going, would have kept taunting him while wearing at his defenses, but he sensed her coming in from behind. There was a gust of wind and the clouding of the air as the ashen form of her zanpakutou came in, and Gin sped out of the way to avoid it. She could do some vicious things with that thing, more so than she probably understood, herself. He shot her a frustrated look, staring them both down from a few yards back.
"How many petals do you have left, Captain Hitsugaya?" hissed Gin. "How long can you keep this up?"
"Long enough," said Hitsugaya determinedly.
"We need to rethink this," said Rangiku. "He hasn't even used bankai yet, and he's still…"
"He's not winning this fight," Hitsugaya said matter-of-factly. "He's on the defensive, and he's not a defensive kind of person. That should tell us something. Shouldn't it, Ichimaru?"
Gin did not give voice to his frustration, but he felt it keenly. Hitsugaya was a prodigy. He had put his finger on the pulse of the fight, analyzing it correctly. If Gin could have killed them, he would have done it already. They were winning right now.
What would he do normally? He would get rid of the irritant secondary concern first, and then focus on wearing down the most dangerous threat with his superior technique. But, that would mean killing Rangiku, and he did not want to do that. Thinking rationally, this meant one of two options: either get over himself and do what he had to do, or decide not to and adapt accordingly. It's not like he couldn't possibly overcome this challenge. He had yet to play his ultimate hand yet, and if he could find one opening to get it done, it would happen.
Gin took a breath, and made a decision.
He fired off his zanpakutou. Hitsugaya deflected the attack. Gin strafed to the left and away, Shinsou shooting out time and time again. The prodigious captain blocked the attacks with his wings before surging forward, blade raised. Gin parried an overhead attack and stepped back so the chain off Hyourinmaru's hilt narrowly missed his arm. Gin's eyes narrowed as he kept moving, constantly trying to put distance between them, constantly trying to find an opening. Hitsugaya never relented, always following. Gin found himself hard pressed, constantly retreating.
Then there came the hint of ash, dust on the wind that could shred his lungs if it got inside him. Instantly, Gin dashed away- not away from the dust, but right through it, away from Hitsugaya. Rangiku, surprised, didn't will her shikai to act in time. She had only an instant to do it, and Gin felt triumphant.
It had worked. The point hadn't been to get to Hitsugaya, but to her.
Get rid of the irritant. Whatever it took, he couldn't be distracted when fighting the likes of Hitsugaya Toushirou.
"Matsumoto!" cried Hitsugaya, rushing right after, but Gin spun his blade around, Shinsou shooting out. The wings absorbed the blow, just as he had expected- and just as he had expected, it stopped the captain's momentum, pushing him back. Rangiku was already trying to will the ash back to her, but he had come at her quickly and her shikai was at the very furthest range it could be. She tried to dash away as he came in, but her movements were like those of a child to him. Never enough practice, never enough dedication. His off-hand closed around her throat, holding her tight.
"Sorry about this one, Rangiku," he said, and lifted her up. With one mighty heave he threw her away, out of the sky. His blade shot out again, breaking Hitsugaya's momentum a second time, and his free hand pointed at Rangiku as she fell.
"Bakudou sixty-one: Rikujokourou!" he hissed, and six pillars of light formed around her midsection, breaking her fall and leaving her hanging stuck in place. Rangiku cursed, batting at the binding spell, but to no avail. Though not a kidou specialist, Gin was gifted in the arts and the spell had been executed perfectly. She might break free eventually, but not in time. Getting rid of the irritant didn't mean having to kill her. Funny how it worked out- he could solve his problems without needing to use murder. It just wasn't nearly as fun.
Gin spun around just in time to parry a furious Hitsugaya, coming in with a massive wave of ice. Gin evaded, catching the captain's blade as he came in for a thrust.
"Careful, now, Mr. Prodigy," Gin said mockingly. "Don't aim that ice where you don't want it. Your vice-captain can't exactly dodge it where she is now."
"You bastard…"
"Ah, and that's what I get for doin' the charitable thing. There any wonder I turned out this way, when doin' good just gets ya nothin' but scorn?"
Shinsou shot out in a flurry of blows, up close. Hitsugaya parried, but Gin could feel a few glancing blows land.
"Careful. Careful," Gin said, pacing around as they broke off. "Getting too close doesn't necessarily work better than from afar."
"I know it's harder to parry," said Hitsugaya, scowling, "but you consistently favor mid- to long-range combat. I'm not about to let you sit back in your comfort zone."
He was clever.
Hitsugaya came in for another set of aggressive attacks. Gin made his blade extend to match Hitsugaya's, and met him head-on. The young captain's form was excellent, the kind of casual skill Gin had only seen in a handful of people- in Aizen, in Urahara Kisuke, and in himself. Hitsugaya moved with the assured certainty of somebody who took to everything he did with ease because he instinctively understood how it worked. A virtuoso, a true prodigy. To fight like this, blow for blow with somebody so close in skill… for all that Gin felt concern for his own goals, he couldn't help but feel excitement.
They traded blows in a lightning-fast exchange, neither one gaining ground over the other. Hitsugaya tried to ensnare Gin with the chain at his hilt several times, but the traitor was always ready, always anticipating it. Gin skipped back, narrowly evading a wall of ice.
"Now ya're just cheatin'" he said, smiling wickedly. "Little ol' me, goin' fer a fair fight man to man, and that's the thanks I get?"
"I'm not playing your games," said Hitsugaya bluntly. "Not now, not ever. Hyourinmaru!"
There was a sudden, icy cold wind, and Gin found himself forced back as a storm of ice shards sailed through the air. He raced away and to the side, sliding to a halt as Hitsugaya came in from above.
"Good distraction, that," Gin said approvingly. "One day, I bet it'll work. If you live."
Hitsugaya refused to respond to his taunt, launching into another set of strikes. Gin went on the defensive, thinking through his next move. The petals over the boy wonder's bankai were fading, but much too slowly for Gin's liking. He was good, and if this kept on going, he could very well get lucky. Gin was a prodigy, but he held no delusions about his limits. Anyone could be killed, and that meant him, too. Inwardly, he made a face. He couldn't afford to drag this out anymore.
He skipped back a few paces, lashing out with his Shinsou to keep the captain at bay. Wings raised to defend, Hitsugaya stubbornly kept coming. Gin aimed his blade under his sleeve- now thoroughly ruined by the cuts he had sent through it throughout this fight- and intoned under his breath,
"Bankai: Kamishini no Yari."
Hitsugaya's stance tensed upon hearing the words. Then, a second later his eyes widened. The length of Gin's blade ran through one of his dragon's wings and through his chest. A look of disbelief written on his face, the young captain stared his enemy down.
"You know," said Gin, dropping the accent, "I really thought I might be able to find a way to deal with you without needing to go all out. Didn't want to waste the energy. It was stupid of me. You are a prodigy."
His blade retracted, and Hitsugaya gasped, staggering where he stood. His free hand clutched the wound on his chest, fresh crimson painting his uniform.
"Thing is, you never knew my bankai," Gin continued. "If you did, you would never have got close. It works the same as it usually does, but a lot faster, and a lot harder. Simple, but effective. It gets the job done."
His bankai deactivated- he didn't need more than the one hit- and Gin surged forward. Hitsugaya weakly raised his blade to parry with just one hand, but Gin batted it aside with ease, and cut the young captain across the chest. Gin felt his heart thumping with excitement as he saw the blood spray across the air. Few things beat fighting a prodigy, and one of them was killing a prodigy. Hitsugaya staggered again, remaining on his feet but in shock, disoriented. It would take him only a second to raise his wings, but it was a second he didn't have. Gin aimed his blade at the captain's throat, smiling genuinely.
Then suddenly there was a sharp pain raking across his back, and now it was Gin's turn to go reeling, trying to keep his balance. Shocked, he turned around to see Rangiku standing there, her blade transforming into ash before his eyes. Adrenaline was rushing through his body, as he tried to cope with the fact that he had just been cut, and badly at that.
"Rangiku," he said, sounding genuinely surprised, "that hurt."
How had he not felt her coming? He had- he had been so absorbed in the act of killing that he had let himself be distracted. He always got that way. Had she known?
"Gin, I swear to god," Rangiku said, her voice trembling, "I will kill you."
"You broke free… faster than I thought," he muttered, reaching around to feel the cut in his back with his off-hand. Blood dyed his fingers red. "You've grown stronger."
Hitsugaya, breathing heavily, seemed to have gotten his bearings. Although in a sorry state, he was not done yet. Carefully, Gin evaluated the situation. Could he take them on? Yes. He had taken worse wounds. Was it worth it? An active bankai, and Rangiku, too, for that matter…
He would have loved to kill the boy captain, but to keep fighting would be to risk an injury too great to manage, and he had more important things to do. Hitsugaya was on his last legs, and he wouldn't be able to give much of a chase…
"See ya 'round, Rangiku," Gin said, taking a deep breath. "You got me good, I'll give you that. I don't hold it against you, don't you worry."
He turned around.
"You're- you're just going to leave?" Rangiku cried, sounding confused and angry.
"You could always chase after me," said Gin, "but then you'd be leaving your captain behind. You're the loyal one. You tell me what you wanna do."
Without waiting for an answer, Gin dashed away, leaving a confused and frightened Rangiku behind.
There they were at last. Kisuke took a deep breath, steeling himself. His ascent had been quick, but he had slowed down quickly when he approached Aizen. Not only because charging the likes of Aizen Sousuke blindly would be suicidal, but it felt… wrong to face down this man without getting a word in first.
Aizen stood with his back to him, putting the finishing touches on a wide circle of magical runes glowing in the air, slowly spinning around. The circle was massive, each letter almost as big as either one of them. Kisuke sensed immense power thrumming inside them, and couldn't help but feel fascinated as he looked upon the circle.
"I thought you might like it," said Aizen, turning around with a satisfied smile on his face.
"Mad as you are, this is… quite masterful," said Kisuke, giving the runes a good look. "Incredible. Nothing I couldn't have constructed myself, of course, but…"
"That's the difference between us. I would, and you wouldn't."
"Yes," said Kisuke with a nod, "on that we agree."
"Because you lack the courage."
"Because I have the courage not to. It's easy for men like us to grab at power. The real challenge is to not do it."
"Like I said, cowardice."
"I'll never convince you otherwise," said Kisuke, shrugging, "but thankfully, it is incomplete."
"For now."
"For all your great plans and machinations, it all came down to just throwing a massive army at us while you set up this ritual. It's a little… simplistic, isn't it?"
"The fundament of any great plan is that it has to work. I'm sure a former officer of the Stealth Corps would know that. The simpler the plan, the fewer variables to worry about. And, look at me now: every single captain and vice-captain, and whatever allies you scrounged up, tied up in the fight of their lives."
"Every captain."
"I'm sure you do not count yourself among their ranks, Urahara Kisuke. The organization that cast you out and sentenced you to prison for life without a trial?"
"That you put me through."
"I suppose you have reason to hold a grudge," Aizen said, his tone the verbal equivalent of a shrug, "but you know as well as I do that if the Gotei had been good and fair, you would never have been convicted. My illusions only go so far. I made it happen, but the Gotei made it so easy I hardly even needed illusions. Corruption runs rampant."
"You lecture the Gotei on corruption while partaking in it for a century?"
"As did you," said Aizen dismissively. "I doubt everyone you hunted down for the Corps was guilty. We're both practical men. Sometimes, one's hands need to be dirtied. It is an inevitable consequence of having an ambition."
Kisuke nodded. "I have dirtied my hands, yes. None of us are clean. But, I did not come here to exchange pleasantries. Your ambition ends here."
Kisuke pointed his blade at Aizen, who calmly pulled his own weapon from its sheath.
"If you must insist. Perhaps I'll spare your life. It would be a shame to see your talent go to waste, even if you lack the character to put it to good use."
Kisuke's eyes narrowed, and he lunged forward. Just as expected, he struck air, and but a moment later, there was a sharp pain as a blade cut down his back. Kisuke staggered, holding on to Benihime.
"Really, I was only humouring you," said Aizen amusedly. "What did you expect would happen?"
"Exactly this," said Urahara, regaining his bearings. "I had to try, just to see."
"See what? I'm curious."
"If you were going to take this seriously, or if you were going to underestimate me like you underestimate everyone else."
"Urahara Kisuke, I am certainly not underestimating you. I am treating you with just as much caution as you warrant."
Kisuke grimaced. "You really do love the sound of your own voice, don't you?"
He reached into a pocket and produced a small pouch. He muttered a few words under his breath, and opened the pouch wide, spreading its content around him in the air. It was a fine white powder, slowly trickling down. He made a sign with his hand, there was a flash of kidou energy, and suddenly the powder came aglow and scattered all around him.
"I know your toys are what you rely on," said Aizen amusedly, "but it won't make much of a difference, I'm afraid. The gap between us will never close."
Kisuke righted himself, held his blade low, and charged. Aizen, of course, was not there. He had been on the opposite side of where his projected image and voice had come from, charging in from behind.
Thus it was a shock to him when Kisuke caught his blade, and with a flick of his wrist sent a burst of crimson energy from the tip of his own zanpakutou, cutting right into Aizen's shoulder. There was a burst of blood, and Aizen staggered back.
"What?!" he said, outraged.
"Toys, like you said," Kisuke said with a smile. "That powder was charged with spiritual energy. Its residue has stuck to you. It's linked to me through my own magic. It can't break your illusions, but it makes you appear inside them like… let's say a glitch. A blurred outline. Enough to make out where you're coming from."
"Impossible," snarled Aizen. "Kyouka Suigetsu is perfect!"
"Nothing is perfect," said Kisuke calmly, walking forward. "There has never been a zanpakutou with no weakness. Yours is powerful, but it has its limits. I can't be sure, but I would wager a guess that the illusions are draining, and that the more you use them, the more draining they are. I would wager that this ritual has consumed quite a bit of your not inconsiderable energy already. I would wager, Aizen Sousuke, that you are not quite as strong as you think you are."
"You insolent-"
Kisuke came in with a quick stab, not allowing Aizen to finish his infuriated sentence. Aizen parried, defending with an expert's skill against the rapid series of thrusts Urahara laid into him. Finding an opening, Aizen evaded one parry and went for a counter-attack, only to find Kisuke already out of the way, his blade flicking up to slap Aizen across the wrist. Aizen pulled back, his face hard with anger. Then he felt a sharp pain, and saw a line of red travel up his arm, splitting into an open wound, the cloth of his sleeve tearing as if he had been cut.
"Benihime is a dangerous lady," said Kisuke darkly, "and I've rarely had reason to unleash her. I can't seem to use her power without killing intent. But, you can handle it, can't you? You can take it all."
"You arrogant bastard," said Aizen, gripping his sword in both hands. "You think illusions are my only strength? You think I need them to defeat the likes of you?"
"Yes," said Kisuke flatly. "You've relied on it your whole life. Pretty much all your schemes have revolved around it. Do you think it's clever to hide behind perfect illusions? You are not some mastermind, Aizen. You were gifted with awesome, nigh-unstoppable power and you exploited it to its fullest. If you were the brilliant strategist you imagine yourself to be, you wouldn't have announced your intent nakedly to the Gotei; you would have murdered them in their sleep. You are a vain, prideful diva, too used to being the smartest person in the room."
Aizen's eyes narrowed, and he charged. He dropped any pretense at illusion. He would combat this arrogant coward head-on, prove who was the strongest.
Their clash would have awed even the most experienced of swordsmen. Kisuke, wielding his blade in one hand with his free arm folded behind his back, wielded Benihime like a fencer's blade, always ready to find an opening, no matter how small. Aizen's strikes were as fast as they were measured, every move executed perfectly. Neither one gained any ground over the other. Neither one could seem to find the right opening.
"What's the matter, Lord Aizen?" said Kisuke, as they broke apart momentarily. "Why am I not dead yet? Why are you the one bloodied, and not me?"
Aizen took a deep breath. "Is this the psychological warfare Second Division taught you? I see right through it, scientist."
"Whether you see it or not isn't what matters. What matters is that for as long as I live, your ritual will not be finished. And, we both know that kidou will expire eventually if not tended to, even an enchantment this potent. This favors me more than you."
Irritably, Aizen lashed out. Kisuke caught the blade, pushing back as their swords ground against each other.
"You are much too used to supremacy, Aizen Sousuke," said Kisuke calmly. "You are a genius, but I doubt if anyone's ever challenged you. You've never struggled. And, when things come too easily, we never reach our full potential."
Aizen raised a hand, muttering an incantation, blade held at the ready. Kisuke swung his blade, sending a crimson burst of volatile energy arcing through the air. It looked like lightning, except lightning would have seemed somehow more stable. The ray of red cut right through Aizen's guard, running up his leg, across his body until it ended at his neck. There was a brief moment as the energy expanded like veins on his skin, then it burst. There was a shower of blood, and Aizen's eyes widened as he staggered back.
"Like I said," Kisuke said, walking forward, "never challenged enough."
Aizen let out a wheezing laugh, clutching his chest. His pristine robes were dyed red, and his calm demeanor was gone, but all the same, he remained standing.
"I will give you this, Urahara Kisuke," he hissed. "You are more dangerous than expected."
He placed a hand over his face, and slowly, elegantly twirled his fingers until they made a fist. There was a sudden shift in his reiatsu, changing into something Kisuke had never felt before. It was like a shinigami's, except fundamentally too negative; like a hollow's, except fundamentally too positive. It was like a perfect blend, like something entirely… new.
Before Kisuke's eyes, Aizen's wounds started to knit together as his skin went pale white. There was no mask, but his features seemed to harden, and bony ridges developed along his forehead. His eyes turned yellow, and his nails sharpened. He seemed taller, leaner, and somehow a little more animal. Soon his wounds had closed, and he stood before Kisuke in his full glory as something more- or less- than human.
"What did you do?" said Kisuke, in between appalled and fascinated.
"This," said Aizen, his voice reverberating slightly, like there was a faint echo to every word he spoke, "is the fruit of my research. Do you think your pathetic half-hollow allies were a failed experiment? I learned from everything. Once the hougyoku was mine, it was child's play to figure out how to perfect the process. To apply it to a shinigami's cell structure was challenging, but far from impossible."
"And so you became a visored. To have this done by choice…"
"Visored?" Aizen chuckled. "I am far beyond those petty experiments. I am a hybrid, the first of my kind. My mind is my own, I retain my powers as a shinigami, while enjoying the vitality and power of a hollow."
"Not the first," said Kisuke, "but close enough, I suppose."
Aizen lunged forward with surprising speed; Kisuke only barely caught the blade in time. The scientist found himself pushed back, predatory yellow eyes staring into his own. Kisuke's blade flickered red, but before his shikai could do its work, Aizen shoved him back and fired a cero from the tip of his finger, almost instantly. Kisuke leaned back, collapsing backward so the beam of red energy narrowly missed. Kisuke spun around, but Aizen was already on the move. As the scientist righted himself, he felt the white-hot pain of a blade raking across his chest. He fired off a wild arc of red, destructive energy to force Aizen back as he staggered, just barely remaining standing.
"You think I never challenged myself?" said Aizen smugly, blade held low. "You think I never made sacrifices? I have gone above and beyond anything you ever dared to do, little man. You can have your clever little toys. It is no substitute for power."
Kisuke skipped back a few paces, eyes narrowed. That had been a good hit, and Aizen finally seemed through talking. There was nothing left to hold back. If only he could delay it a little bit longer…
"Bankai," he muttered, "Kannonbiraki-"
Then there was Aizen, appearing suddenly from his left like a glitched blur. He saw the illusion too late; it had to have been triggered late. Like the best of lies, the illusion was mostly truthful. A clawed hand reached out, grabbing Kisuke's zanpakutou by the hilt. Red energy coursed through the blade, rending the arm that grasped it, but Aizen seemed to pay it no mind as he yanked Kisuke's blade aside and thrust.
The blade slid smoothly through Kisuke's ribcage, running halfway through his chest. The scientist's eyes widened, and he coughed. Droplets of blood sprayed from his mouth.
"For all that arrogance, look at you," said Aizen haughtily. "Still beaten, still fighting a losing war for a lost cause. Did you really think I need my illusions to beat the likes of you?"
"Evidently, you did," Kisuke wheezed. "Who are you trying to convince: me or yourself?"
Sneering, Aizen wrenched the blade free, and Kisuke staggered back. Before he could raise his blade, Aizen cut him from shoulder to hip. Slowly, Kisuke toppled over. Not content to let him fall on his own, Aizen raised a hand, contemptuously aiming it at the scientist.
"Hadou one: Shou," he said, and the shock of the spell sent Kisuke plummeting toward the ground.
Aizen watched him fall. He could have killed him there and then, so easily. Maybe he should have done. But, a mind like that felt like a shame to waste, and…
And, he needed Urahara Kisuke to see he was wrong. Death meant an end to suffering. Urahara Kisuke deserved to live out his days in misery, knowing he was defeated, knowing he was wrong. Smiling to himself, Aizen let the hollow's essence fade, and turned back to his ritual.
Kisuke fell, knowing he had failed, knowing it had been a long shot at best. He had to at least have tried.
But, he was ever the scientist, and no good scientist wasted useful data. He opened his palm, and as he fell a hell butterfly dislodged from his skin, taking flight toward the shinigami headquarters.
Ggio wasn't sure how this had happened. He had one of Findor's arms slung over his shoulders, supporting his comrade. Neither of them was in great shape after their battle with the quincy. Either of them could fight, but not well. They had been lucky to find Edrad, bloodied but victorious, and when they all sensed their master in trouble it had been no surprise to find Loly and Menoly converging on the same position. So it was that all five of them homed in on the same street. It was desolate, devastated by battle but surprisingly quiet.
It wasn't hard to figure out why. Leaned against a lamppost there was Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, giving them a curious look. It was the stare of a tiger who had just eaten, but could perhaps be convinced to go for another snack.
Ggio breathed in. Further down the street, behind Grimmjow, lay their master. He was still on the ground, but his reiatsu was stable. He was weak, but not dying.
"G-get out of our way!" cried Loly, taking a step forward. Grimmjow shot her a glance, and turned his eyes back to Edrad, ignoring her altogether.
"I'll be damned," Findor muttered, easing out of Ggio's supportive grip, standing on his own two feet. "Is this how we're going to die?"
"If we have to," said Ggio, staring down Grimmjow.
He had no doubt about it. Grimmjow was a brutal thug, an old school hollow who loved the monster he had become. There was a pecking order in place, and all five of them combined were still beneath the likes of him. But, all the same, Ggio refused to back down. Here and now, he understood what his master believed in. Some things were more important than living. Lanza- Jellal- at the mercy of this monster was unbearable, and he'd rather be dead than do nothing about it.
"Did- did you do that to him?" Menoly demanded.
"Goddamn right I did," Grimmjow said, his lips curling into a twisted grin. "He was all talk until I gave him the smackdown. All that big talk, and in the end he still failed."
Looking closer, Ggio realized that Grimmjow seemed a little worse for the wear. His energy level was lower, and he had little cuts and scrapes across his skin, still not healed. Their master had not gone down without a fight.
"You bastard," Loly screamed, drawing her blade and rushing forward.
"No, don't!" cried Ggio, knowing it was a death sentence. Grimmjow easily side-stepped her swipe and backhanded her. Loly went flying into a wall. She fell to her knees, brick and mortar running over her where she fell. Grimmjow just calmly put his hands in his pockets, not even bothering to take a defensive stance.
"Relax, dipshits," he said. "He ain't dead. Believe me, if I wanted him dead, he would be."
"That much I do believe," rumbled Edrad, taking a step forward, "but I wouldn't believe it if I couldn't see it myself. You were my master not long ago. And the master I served would have loved nothing more than to rip out the throat of the likes of Jellal Fernandes. You found his idealism not only stupid, but offensive to what we are as hollows. Why?"
"I had my reasons," said Grimmjow evasively.
"What were they?"
"Get fucked."
"You talk like my old master, but you do not act like him at all. The fact that we stand here speaking instead of fighting speaks to that. What happened to you in captivity, Grimmjow? Did they brainwash you?"
"…I guess you could say that," said Grimmjow, shrugging. "They didn't really change my memory or anything, but they got me to see some things I hadn't seen before."
Ggio felt baffled. This was nothing like the bloodthirsty brute he had come to expect.
"What did they make you see?"
"Fuck off, Edrad," Grimmjow snorted. "What is this, a group therapy session where we talk about how that made you feel?"
"Very well," said Edrad, "but perhaps what you learned will allow you to understand why I cannot sit idly by while my new master lies there beaten."
"Now, let me make one thing fuckin' clear," said Grimmjow flatly. "I am not decided on him being alive. I could change my mind any time. I ain't suddenly turned all moral on you, like that high-and-mighty hypocrite fuckhead over there. You make a move on him, and I'll kill all of ya, and him too."
"You know we have to try anyway," said Edrad resolutely.
"Fuck me, I can't tell who's supposed to be the shinigami and the hollow," Grimmjow growled. "That sounds exactly like the kinda dumb, principled shit Erza would say. It's brain rot. Didn't ya hear me? I'll fuckin' kill ya. The only reason I ain't done it already is that I got some shit on my mind I was figuring out."
"Some things are worth dying for," said Ggio firmly.
"No, they ain't," said Grimmjow angrily. "Only your own self matters. Just hearing you say that dumb shit makes me want to rip out your goddamn spine and shove it down your throat."
"So, why haven't you?" said Edrad, taking a step forward.
"Just a whim," said Grimmjow, with a shrug.
"I served you long enough to know when you are full of it, master," said Edrad, raising a fist. Ggio gave Findor a look. It was almost go time. He only wished they had a plan.
"Oi, Edrad," said Grimmjow, his eyes narrowing, "I'm warning ya. If you keep this shit up I'm ripping your throat out."
"I know," said Edrad, slamming down a fist. Grimmjow caught it in the palm of his hand easily, barely flinching as he took the hit. He stared down Edrad. The giant refused to back down, pushing down despite the difference in strength. Ggio, despite himself, remained in place. What was going on? Whatever it was, he had a sense he shouldn't interrupt.
"You grew a spine while I was gone, didn't you?" said Grimmjow, easily holding Edrad off.
"I found a new master, and in him, purpose."
"And, you're happy to die for it."
"Not happy. But, if I have to, I will," said Edrad stubbornly.
Grimmjow looked up, and shrugged, taking a step back. "I actually missed you guys, you know that?"
Edrad's face went from determined to blankly surprised, entirely caught off guard by the admission. "…What?"
"Shawlong, D-Roy, Ylfordt, Nakeem, you. I was lyin' to myself when I said I didn't. That's one thing I did figure out when I was their prisoner. We went through a lot, and them dyin'… that meant something."
"…OK," said Edrad, completely dumbfounded. Who was this man, and what had he done to Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez?
"On that note, last time we met I worked you over. Wish I hadn't. It was weak."
"…"
Edrad was dumbstruck, and so were the rest of his fellow fracciones.
"You asked me what I found with the shinigami. The answer is: the same thing you did. Purpose. Only difference is, I ain't figured out what that purpose is. Killing's fun. Fighting's fun. But, I want more than that, and I don't want anything to do with the fuckin' ladder climb or the espada anymore. And, humans… they got more to offer than I thought. So, for now… I'll be sticking with Red. She's alright, for a limpdick shinigami."
"…Master," said Edrad, "you truly have changed."
"Don't fucking push it," Grimmjow growled. "I ain't gone soft. It's just a change in priorities."
"Of course."
"So…"
"So… on the matter of Master Fernandes…?"
"Oh," said Grimmjow, as if he had completely forgotten. "Yeah, that dipshit. Uh… yeah, I don't actually give a fuck about him. You can all go get him or whatever. I already beat his ass."
Loly and Menoly hurried past them at these words, and Edrad held his breath, just waiting for Grimmjow to lash out. To his surprise, his former master remained still, ignoring them entirely.
"I am glad of this, Grimmjow," said Edrad, "even if we are enemies still."
"Don't make me change my fuckin' mind," Grimmjow muttered. "I only let him live so he could feel how fuckin' bitter it is to lose, so he could live with knowing he was wrong."
"Of course."
"Yeah." Grimmjow shook his head, and flexed his shoulders. "Ah, enough thinkin'. There's a battle on still, and I got a free licence to slaughter. Real shame to let it go to waste. See ya around, Edrad. Good luck babysitting your master."
Before Edrad could reply, Grimmjow was already walking away. Edrad watched him leave, still a little stunned.
"…Do you think he got knocked over the head really hard?" said Findor, seeming no less taken aback.
"Maybe," said Edrad, "but I don't think so. It's a shame he is with the shinigami now. I wouldn't have said this before, but I think Master Fernandes would be proud of this change."
Halibel was as magnificent as ever. It hadn't taken long for the both of them to acknowledge that they both needed to go all out, and so it was that Erza stood in gleaming plate whereas Halibel wielded her greatsword, bankai, and resurrección clashing just like before. Their battle had been waged for some time already. Erza had opted for her sea empress armor. The green plate had served her well, and along with her black greatsword she had so far managed to hold on against the tercera's furious assault.
But, only hold on. Only so much. When Erza had used her armour to manipulate the great tidal waves Halibel threw at her, the espada had simply decided to stop relying on her water powers, only using them occasionally. She went up close instead, hammering Erza with fast, heavy blows. Erza parried and evaded, trying to find a weak spot for her blade, but there was none to be found.
Halibel had learned. She was not repeating her old mistakes, just like Erza had expected. She didn't dare switch armors, knowing Halibel would take advantage of it the moment she did. The sea empress plate was a buffer against one of her major assets, and that's how it had to stay. Bizarrely, her bankai was doing little more than prevent a single skill from being used.
"Is this it?" said Halibel, breaking away briefly. Erza stood upright, breathing heavily. "You had so much more to offer last time. Is it exhaustion from our last battle? You seemed healed well enough."
"You sound disappointed," Erza shot back. "Would you rather I put up a really strong showing and maybe killed you? I thought the great Tier Halibel didn't care about frivolous things like an honourable fight."
Halibel's eyes narrowed. "I do not. But, I am disappointed. I suppose I always was. In the end, that is how I feel about you. Not hate, not anger, not bitterness. I feel disappointed."
"Sure," Erza said dismissively. "Don't lie to yourself. This is deeply personal to you. This was always your problem. You had all these feelings, and you just… bottled them up. I know you didn't have a choice, but it's hurting you."
"How so? Certainly not in this battle. You are losing. You will die soon. You know this as well as I do."
"Even if I die and you get everything you want," said Erza quietly, "I need you to do something for me."
"A last request?"
"Yes," said Erza firmly, "if that's what it takes for you to listen. If I die here, let my life be worth one lesson to you: treasure your own. Keep your friends close, and let them know what they mean to you. Don't hold it all in. Jellal is right about one thing- there is a better way, whether you're a hollow or not."
Halibel looked bewildered for a moment, then raised her blade, gripping it with both hands. This was about to get violent again, any moment now.
"You squander your last words on me? You will not plead for the life of your friends?"
"My friends can look after themselves," said Erza stubbornly. "I believe in them just like they believe in me. It's not they who need help. So, yes. My last words are for you, because you need them."
"Are you patronizing me?"
"Have I ever been anything but honest with you?"
"For the life of me, I will never understand you," said Halibel, taking a step forward. An instant later she had closed the distance, and Erza parried the strike at the last moment. A lightning-fast exchange followed, and Erza shook down to her very bones from the ferocity of the blows they exchanged. She was fighting on pure instinct and muscle memory, their battle much too fast to involve any real thought.
And, Halibel was winning. She was the faster, stronger, and more experienced of them both, and it was true: Erza was still weary from their last fight. She had recovered most, but not all of her powers. She was running out of time, and quickly. Finally her guard slipped, and she felt a jet of pain as Halibel's massive bone blade cut into her shoulder, her plate doing little to stop the blow. Erza reeled back, dropping to one knee. Slowly, she stood up.
"You could have killed me there," she said, staring Halibel down.
"I would rather take your head when you stood up."
"You do believe in honor of a kind," Erza said, clutching her shoulder. "You may not want to admit it, but you do. Any normal arrancar would have taken my head there and then, but you're better than that."
"I am not responsible for your delusions," said Halibel with a shrug. "I simply need to know that this victory was neither cheap nor false."
"Victory is victory, whether honest or not, right? You told me that once."
"Be silent!" Halibel snapped. "Do not dare twist my own words, or I will-"
"Kill me?" Erza said dryly. "You certainly won't torment me. You're not cruel, Halibel. Ruthless, but not petty, and not cruel."
Halibel grit her teeth.
"This absurd exchange is over," she said, holding her blade up. "You are wounded and weak. I will finish this now, and I will give you no mercy except that of a swift death."
"I'm sorry, but there is one thing I have left," said Erza, straightening her back, her reiatsu rising. "I didn't have enough energy left for it back when we fought. I was dumb enough to try and take you head on, instead of using my trump card from the start. But now… I am rested enough."
"What? You claim you held back?"
"I won't have long. Maybe a minute at most. But, believe me, it will do."
Erza held Render up high, her energy peaking.
"God-emperor Armour: Armadura Fairy!"
Halibel had learned from her past mistakes. So had Erza.
Momo stared into the distance, enthralled. The bindings she had place on Halibel's fracciones were solid, and it was a good thing, too, because she might not have noticed if they started to break free. Out there in the distance was Erza, her friend and lover, giving it all she had.
"Worried yet?" spat Apache, straining uselessly against her chains. "Halibel is going to turn her into mincemeat. Just like last time, when she had to be bailed out by you. Nothing's changed."
"You think so?" said Momo, sounding like she was only half listening.
"Goddamn right," Apache snarled. "She's dead meat. No matter how much she improved, she's got nothing on our mistress."
"And, if you think you get any mercy just because you didn't kill us, you're wrong," said Mila Rose gleefully. "Halibel will finish her, and then she'll come for us. You're next."
"Uh huh."
Momo sounded like she wasn't even there. She was totally engrossed in the fight, following every beat as best she could.
"Don't try and act all cool with me, dipshit!" Apache cried angrily. "Didn't you hear me? She's dead, and so are you!"
"I think," said Momo quietly, momentarily turning back to look at the angry fracción, "that you underestimate her. A lot of people have, and none of them are here now."
"Pfah!" Mila Rose snorted. "What, you think a bit of a speech will make any difference? You're her cheerleader. Of course you believe she'll win."
"She does have a point," said Sun-Sun. "It was closer than expected last time, but she is nowhere near Halibel's level. So, what makes you think she'll pull this off?"
"Let's just say I have faith," said Momo cryptically.
"Bah," Apache said angrily. "Blinded, like every shinigami is."
Then it struck them: a massive surge of power, overwhelming even from a distance. There was a radiant golden glow that almost hurt to look at, and a presence so incredible it barely even felt like a shinigami's for a second.
"What…" said Apache, gaping.
"Faith is a funny thing," said Momo, smiling confidently. "It doesn't have to be blind or irrational. I believe in her, not just because she's wonderful and smart and strong, but because she's legitimately powerful. It looks like she finally stopped holding back."
"H-how…" Mila Rose said, just as taken aback as her companions.
"If it's any consolation," said Momo, "she will show your mistress more mercy than your mistress would show her."
Erza was a resplendent sight. Thick, ornate, golden plate mail with an eagle motif over the chest covered her from head to toe. A set of laurels adorned her head, her red hair flowing freely in the breeze. She held a great, burning blade in her right hand, and her left hand had a glove that was a massive claw, five foot-long bladed digits making a cruel-looking hand. A great, red cloak flowed behind her, and her eyes glowed with power.
"You hid… this from me our last fight?" said Halibel, sounding astonished in her own reserved way.
"Like I said, I drained too much power to call on it. It is imperfect, but this is the ultimate manifestation of my zanpakutou, in all its arrogant glory."
She sounded different. There was an undercurrent of authority and confidence in her voice that contrasted the humility Halibel knew characterized her. It was Erza, but at the same time also not Erza. It was… intimidating.
"Given that," continued Erza, "I really don't have the time to stay around and chat. I hope you do not die, Tier Halibel, but I cannot guarantee it."
Erza surged forward, raising her blade. Halibel faced her head on, parrying the strike. It was not particularly elegant, but as it hit home, Halibel realized it didn't need to be. The tercera found herself flying back, sliding to a halt almost a hundred yards away.
The sheer forced had been unbelievable. She hadn't felt raw power like this since… Stark. Not quite like his, but not much unlike it, either. She looked down on her bone blade. There was a crack in it where she had parried.
"Fight like your life depends on it…"
It was Erza, suddenly standing just two yards away. When- when had she moved? Halibel hadn't felt it happen, hadn't seen anything. She was just… there.
"…because it does."
The burning blade came down, and Halibel felt its searing heat as she parried again, just barely reacting in time.
Where had this power come from? It was like Erza's strength had been amplified tenfold, like she was fighting a whole other calibre of warrior. There had been a difference in power between them, but never vast; the real difference had been Halibel's superior skill. Now Erza was simply bulldozing through her defense with overwhelming force, like she wasn't even there.
Forced on the defensive, Halibel took step after step back. Every blow she parried made her arms ache, almost going numb with the sheer power of each strike. She side-stepped a vicious swing and went in for a counterattack, but Erza raised her clawed hand and parried. Erza stabbed her burning blade forward, and Halibel felt the searing heat as the tip narrowly missed. Erza raised the blade high and swung down. Halibel, having taken a step back and put well outside the blade's range, did not parry. Why would she?
Yet even though the blade passed by, missing her by a foot's length, a wide slash manifested across her chest. Shocked, Halibel stumbled back, bleeding.
"I told you, Tier," said Erza, stepping forward relentlessly, "your life depends on this!"
Halibel brought her great blade up just in time to parry a ferocious strike but found herself forced to back away before she could retaliate when Erza's clawed hand raked at her. The two weapons worked in tandem, the strikes slow and heavy but furiously powerful.
Her blade was cracking. The great bone blade, so raw and powerful that nobody she had ever fought had been able to dent it, was being shaken to its core. She felt it starting to break, little by little. This was… unbelievable.
Anger rose in her chest. She would not let herself be beaten. She had a debt to repay, and she would take Erza's head or die trying. Ignoring the fissures in her blade, Halibel threw herself into the fight, her blade rising and falling more quickly than ever. Erza's claws swiped at her sideways, but she evaded by stepping to the side, parrying the sword swing she knew would come next. Redirecting the blow, she found her opening and swung her blade into Erza's side, cutting through her armour. Erza grunted, blood seeping from the wound.
She was not invincible, it seemed.
Halibel pulled back just in time to avoid a fierce stab aimed at her head, feeling her skin blister as the burning blade passed by her cheek.
Just a minute. She could not keep this up forever.
Halibel skipped back, a rapid step of sonido carrying her twenty yards back. A blue orb started to form in her hand, and she poured a copious amount of energy into it.
"Gran Rey Cero!" she snarled, the blue orb growing bigger than her head.
Erza did not run. She did not attempt to avoid it, nor did she try to charge in close, nor did she even brace herself. Instead, she raised her blade, surging with power to match Halibel's, and as the blue light became blinding, she brought her blade down.
"Dragon Strike!"
The cero exploded forward in a blinding beam of raw force, one that could have leveled several cities. Halibel poured as much as she could into it, determined to match this sudden burst of power. The blue light was met by a fiery red, bursting forward like an explosive tide of flame. The two beams collide, and suddenly the world went white. Even closing her eyes, even turning away to keep herself from being blinded, Halibel found herself blinking and trying to make sense of the world around her, seeing stars. When her vision finally cleared up, she saw the ground beneath them rocked by the sheer force of the explosion, two huge buildings halfway ruined just from being in the outer proximity of it. The force of it had rocked her, pushed her back, the explosion growing into something greater than either of them had produced.
And, just as Halibel caught her bearings, she saw Erza marching toward her resolutely, flaming sword in hand. She burned brightly still, radiating an intense power. It was like looking into the face of some elegant, terrifying deity of war.
Halibel steadied herself, holding the cracking bone blade low. She had to be running out of time. And, even if she wasn't…
Even if she wasn't, Halibel was loath to back down and give up. She had a score to settle. This, she realized, somehow mattered more to her than surviving.
"Come on, then," she hissed, walking to meet Erza. "This ends now, one way or the other."
"Do you truly hate me that much?"
They paused, just a few paces apart. The pity in her face made fury well up inside of Halibel, more than ever before. She grit her teeth. Her grip on her sword tightened.
"You have the nerve to ask me that?"
"This will end soon, like you said. I want to know before it does. How you feel, and-"
"You betrayed me!" Halibel snapped, surprised at the naked anger in her voice. "You dared to call yourself my friend, and you turned your back on me, on us!"
"I wish it could have been any other way," said Erza ruefully. "Truly, I do. I missed you and Neliel both."
"Don't tell me you did," spat Halibel. "You threw us aside like we were nothing!"
"I'm sure that's what he told you. In reality, he had me locked up in the Gotei, and I would still be there if not for the help of a friend. I had to run and hide for fear of being found."
"You lie."
"That doesn't sound like your Lord Aizen? Your benevolent master, who would never resort to such methods?" Erza shook her head. "You don't believe that. I will ask you one last time-"
Halibel raised a hand, and summoned by her will a tidal wave slammed into Erza. She was knocked back, and Halibel charged, striking before Erza could regain her bearings. She launched into a series of heavy swings, a hateful focus to her attacks. She would take Erza's head, and she would finally avenge herself. Then she would know peace.
It was a lie, and in her heart she knew it, but she convinced herself it was true nonetheless.
Erza was only momentarily taken aback, and now parried every attack. A backhand from her clawed gauntlet sent Halibel reeling back, and the next swing cut into Halibel's blade almost halfway through.
"Surrender," Erza demanded. "You're not like the others. You're better than them."
"Go to hell!" Halibel snarled. She wrenched her blade free and went in for another swing. Erza simply caught it in her clawed hand, the five edges of her digits cutting into the bone. With one furious swing she cut the bone sword in two, severing it almost at the hilt. Halibel screamed, leaping forward with a cero charging in her off-hand.
Erza kicked her in the chest, deflecting the cero with her clawed hand. She lashed out with her blade, cutting across Halibel's chest. The edge of the blade cut cleanly from one shoulder to the next, and Halibel felt the shock of the impact, felt her strength draining from her. Eyes widening as the blood arced through the air, she stumbled onto one knee, then down to both. Before she could start to plummet toward the ground beneath she was caught in the grip of Erza's clawed hand, almost gently. It closed around her chest, locking her arms. She felt the edges dig into her flesh, almost like her hierro wasn't there. Erza raised her blade, pointing the edge at Halibel's face. The searing heat was only inches away.
Halibel felt tired, weak and angry, but she would not close her eyes. She would look her death in the eye.
"Do it," she said defiantly.
Erza stared her down, their eyes locked onto each other. Then she lowered her blade.
"Don't you dare," Halibel snapped. "I am your enemy. I have come at you with lethal intent. I may not be the kind of base monster a lesser hollow would be, but some things do not change."
"They can if we want them to," said Erza stubbornly.
"I hate you!"
"Tell me one thing, Halibel," said Erza, and the glow around her started to lessen, the armour becoming translucent, seeming more ethereal now. "Do you really believe in Aizen's vision?"
"That has nothing to do with this."
"It has everything to do with this. If I am to kill you, I want to know at least that much."
"He is a warlord like any other. There will be peace. That is all, and that is enough."
"You know, I used to never beat you. You also used to tell me I was a bad liar. Now look at us. The situation's been reversed twice over."
"Just- just kill me!" Halibel snapped. "I've failed, and there is nothing left for me!"
The grip of the claws lightened, and the armor disappeared. Erza stood before her in just her shinigami's uniform, her blade reduced to its sealed state. She grabbed Halibel by the hair, and leaned in close, anger written on her face.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? The easy way out, so you don't have to start asking yourself the hard questions, or god forbid, be honest with yourself!" She shook her head. "Well, you're not getting an easy out. I refuse. You're beaten, and I don't kill the helpless. I didn't kill Zaraki Kenpachi when I had the chance, and he's the worst. I sure as hell won't kill somebody who is actually a good person!"
Halibel's eyes widened. "I'm not-"
"Yes, you are," Erza said stubbornly. "Deep down, hidden under a lot of stupidity and bitterness, but you are. You just need to make the right choice. That's all it takes. That's all it ever takes. It's not about your past, or our past. You just need to stop being stupid!"
"What do you expect me to do? Renounce Aizen and go back to being the best of friends?"
"Yes. It really can be just that easy."
"It- it can't."
"Why not?"
"He's too strong, and… even if he were to lose, they would make me a prisoner. I would be executed."
"You know, if I can reform Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez of all people, then I'm pretty sure I can handle you."
"This… it's impossible."
"Tier," said Erza, her voice thick with emotion, "I never wanted to leave. It doesn't need to be like this. It can be like it used to. It's all up to you, but it can be."
She took a step back, extending a hand.
Halibel looked up at her, in disbelief. Who was she, to offer up her friendship like none of this had ever happened? Like she hadn't just almost killed the woman less than a day ago? What kind of person would do that?
Only Erza Scarlet.
"You… never changed. Did you?"
"I've changed a little. Sometimes for the worse, but I've never lost track of who I am and what I believe in. I am still Erza Scarlet, the friend who learned so much from you. The one who saw what you are behind that mask of yours. Somebody so much better than what the likes of him would have you be."
The sheer earnestness in her voice would have sounded fake to Halibel had it come from anyone else. Without really thinking, she slowly raised a weak, trembling hand. She felt Erza's grip, surprisingly strong, pulling her to her feet.
"It won't be as easy as you say," Halibel said defiantly. "We can't just go back to the way things were."
"That's fine," said Erza, "but if I make an effort, will you?"
"…Yes," said Halibel, not quite believing what she was saying.
"Then that's a start."
"If… I were to… then I want assurances. Will you vouch for me? For my girls?"
"I swear it," said Erza firmly.
"I… need to think about this. But…" She shook her head, in disbelief. "You are unbelievable, Erza."
"I try."
The both of them thoroughly exhausted, they drifted toward the ground. Halibel was in a bad way, and Erza had only the faintest trace of spiritual energy left to her. It was just as well, thought Halibel. At least now she'd have an excuse if things went bad.
And there we have it, the long-awaited rematch between Erza and Harribel has finally been settled. I'm finally glad we've managed to finish it. Erza's quite powerful with the Armadura Fairy Armor as I'm sure you all recall with her earlier use of the armor where she defeated Ichigo in one hit. However, she's not exactly in the best shape right now either. I do hope you all enjoyed the fight.
Aizen vs Kisuke is a fight I think the fanbase has always wanted a proper one on one battle, but we sadly never got. Originally, I was planning on letting Kisuke use his bankai, but then we realized that if we did, the battle would have just dragged on, and on with no real end in sight, and we couldn't have that for what we had planned later on in the arc. Besides, it's better to have the first time Kisuke use his bankai be used for something more impressive than having it get destroyed by Aizen.
Speaking of Aizen, we decided to take his character in a slightly different direction. Instead of using the Hogyoku to become a "transcendent being and fusing with the Hogyoku, we decided it would be a bit more interesting to give him perfected hollowfication. Now this is something we've actually seen in cannon, because it's more or less the same form that Ichigo took in his battle against Yhwach. Hollow powers, but with no time limit or mask to break. It's far superior to the vizard mask or ressurecion.
I do look forward to hearing what you all have to say about this chapter, so please, leave us a review so we can get some good feedback. It would mean a lot to us.