The Death and Life of Erza Scarlet

by Goshinzilla

Death is only the beginning. Erza learns that much at the tower of heaven. But the afterlife, it turns out, isn't much better than life, with all its flaws. As she becomes a shinigami, Erza seeks to make a better world- but Aizen has the same idea... (ErzaXMomo)

116. Mourning

Ladies and Gentlemen, we are back with yet another chapter. We have a lot of fallout to deal with given everything that's happened, so I won't bother with wasting too much of your time.

However, We're nearing 2000 reviews though and I can't thank you all enough for that. It would mean so, so much to me if we could reach that goal before the end of the arc, so let's do our best to get to that number ASAP.

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!

---

"…we're reporting live from downtown Karakura, Tokyo district. The devastation is unbelievable. Large parts of the city central area have been demolished in what appears to be some kind of attack. People are fleeing the city en masse. The death toll is unknown, but it is estimated to be in the thousands."

The news camera swept over the scene of Karakura's inner city, with great buildings in ruin. Masaki sat in the hotel room, clutching the bed covers tightly. They had gotten out just in time, it seemed. It felt bizarre to see a normal human being trying to make sense of the madness when she knew just what had happened, but Masaki didn't care. Ichigo was still out there somewhere, and the battle, as tragic as it was, seemed… unimportant. Where was her son?

"It is as of yet unknown what caused this widespread devastation, but there has been no earthquake recently. There are speculations of a large scale terrorist attack, although no terrorist organization has taken responsibility for this incident yet. There is no indication of it being a foreign power at work either. There seems to be no reason for this… total madness. Police and firefighters have been deployed to help the survivors and evacuate the areas, and the army is being called in to secure the area. Right now, all we can do is pray for the people lost here today."

"Turn that off," Isshin said, walking into the hotel bedroom with a troubled look on her face. "That's not making anything better."

"Maybe if we look- if there's a clue, we could tell what happened to him," Masaki said desperately, knowing how much of a reach it was.

"That's not happening," Isshin said bluntly. "They're clueless. We're not. Right now we need to look out for this family. Ichigo was right to get us out when he did."

Grabbing the remote, he turned off the TV. Masaki stood up, anxiously running her hands through her hair.

"It's just- it's just-" she said, at a loss for words.

"I know," said Isshin, gently placing his arms on her shoulders. "He's my son, too." Masaki leaned into him, burying her face in his shoulder.

"What the hell happened?" she said weakly. "How could they let this happen?"

"I don't know. Don't think there's a good answer," said Isshin, shaking his head and wrapping his arms around her. "Look, we'll wait a little while more, and then I'll go looking. Whatever's gone down there is bound to have settled down."

"But, what if… I couldn't lose you too."

"I can handle myself. And, I'll be careful," Isshin promised.

"Isshin-"

The budding argument was interrupted by a sharp knock to the door. Masaki broke out of Isshin's embrace and rushed there. She opened the door to see him standing there, bruised, battered, and brow-beaten, but very much alive.

"Mom-" Ichigo started, but Masaki cut him off, catching him in a bear hug. She gripped him tightly, as if she was afraid he'd go away if she let go. Ichigo stiffened at first, but leaned into her embrace, slowly wrapping his arms around her. They held each other that way for some time, rocking back and forth in place.

"I was so worried," Masaki whispered.

"I'm okay," Ichigo said quietly. "I'm- I'm not okay, but I'm- I'm good. They patched me up and sent me on my way. I hurt, but the hollow's already taking care of the worst."

"Son," said Isshin, giving him a knowing look. Ichigo nodded, and gently broke off from Masaki.

"The city…" he said, seeming at a loss for words.

Ichigo looked grey in the face. Masaki had not gotten a good look at him until now, and what she saw was miserable. He looked as if all spirit had been taken from him, like he'd taken a punch to the gut he couldn't recover from.

"No, you're definitely not okay," she said, taking him by the arm and leading him to a couch in the main room. Ichigo did not resist, slumping down. He hung his head, burying his face in his hands. Masaki sat down next to him, rubbing his back.

"What'd you see?" asked Isshin. "How bad is it?"

"I… I tried, dad," Ichigo whimpered. "I tried my hardest. I- I fought with Byakuya, and we beat that Ulquiorra guy, but then- then Aizen did this thing and…" Ichigo trailed off, a dry sob cutting his words short.

"Ten thousand," Ichigo whispered, staring into the floor. "He killed ten thousand people to make that fucking key. I ran at him, I tried to fight him, but I was… helpless. Worse than useless. He just laughed and cut me down like I was nothing. All those people. I watched it happen, and I couldn't stop it."

"Ichigo, that's not your fault," Masaki said, her voice intense. "You did your best, and that's all anyone could ask."

"Ten thousand," said Isshin, his voice hollow.

"Not to mention all the shinigami who died fighting. And, whoever got caught in the rubble of those buildings. Or, just caught up in the middle of the fight. Or, cut down by arrancar." Ichigo said, his voice almost unemotional.

"Dear god…" Isshin muttered.

"I… I always thought we'd win. You know? And, um, I guess we did, because Aizen's dead. But I don't feel like it. We failed."

"Listen, son," Isshin said, sighing deeply, "just a couple things. First off… this whole cock-up is the Gotei's mess. It's shitty you had to see it, but it's on them, not on you. Secondly… yeah, this is all kinds of fucked up. It's part of the world you've come into. I've been a captain in my time, and… well, never had anything this bad happen to me, but I've sent men to their deaths. I've watched people die. This world… it's cruel and it's brutal. If you don't want any part of it, nobody would blame you. Right now… just think about what you need to do next. Think about the little things, like what you need to do to help. Any little task you can think about, focus on that. If you stop to think about something this fucked up, you're going to drive yourself mad. Trust me; I've been there."

Ichigo looked up at last, giving Isshin a haunted look.

"Does it get better?" he demanded, a sudden intensity in his voice. "I- I don't know how I'll ever sleep again. This…"

"It does, yeah," said Isshin, nodding slowly. "Sometimes it doesn't feel like it, but it does. It never goes away, but it does get better. Lean on your family and friends. Times like these, you need them more than ever."

Ichigo nodded, seeming stumped.

"Ichigo!"

It was Yuzu, running out of a side room. She hugged Ichigo, who slowly returned the embrace, holding her tightly. Karin came behind, for once not having a single sarcastic word to say. Together they sat down, just being there together.

---

The dust was settling, literally and figuratively. Soifon walked through the ruined cityscape, surveying the troops. The wounded were already being ferried back to the Soul Society from the field hospital, and each division was slowly starting to come together. What was left of them, at least.

Soifon had never been an emotional woman, especially not in the field. Her gruelling, ruthless training had conditioned her to be detached, cold, and collected in even the most grievous of situations, and a lifelong career of honing those skills had made her a worthy commander of the Stealth Corps, where discipline and sacrifice were at the highest levels in the Gotei.

But, even she couldn't help but be affected by the misery. It was everywhere. Groaning, crying wounded. Brow-beaten soldiers, holding up comrades too weak to walk on their own. Their fallen friends, littering the ground. The look of despair in their faces, the horror- these men had been good hollow hunters, but almost none of them had seen war. Soifon had not seen war, either, and although she was more than familiar with the cruelty and brutality that came with being a soldier of the Gotei Thirteen, she had never seen anything on this scale before. At times, it was all she could do not to flinch.

But, of course, she didn't. Morale was low; if the captains started to crack, then their troops would soon follow.

She marched up to where Yamamoto had been laid. An elite guard of First Division soldiers had set up a perimeter around him, refusing to let anyone close. None would be allowed to see the greatest of them all weak, defeated. As Soifon approached she waved them aside, stepping inside. Unohana had gone to work on him, working the best of her magics to restore the old man.

Soifon walked up to the sickbed- more like a piece of clean cloth laid out on the ground- and stood to attention, saluting. Unohana was in the background, which Soifon took to mean the healer had done all she could do. Yamamoto turned his head to look at her, and slowly started to heave himself up into a sitting position.

It was remarkable. On the one hand, she had never before seen the commander so gravely injured, seeming so old, so tired, so bereft of spirit, so weak. On the other hand, his defiance of pain for the sake of duty felt… inspiring.

"Re… port," he wheezed, sounding as if merely speaking took effort. He was breathing heavily, the blood of his wounds mixing with sweat.

"Captain-commander, I can report that Aizen Sousuke has been slain. Karakura Town is half in ruins, but our objective of stopping him has been accomplished."

"Has… it?" said Yamamoto, looking around them. Mournfully, he shook his head. "Who did it?"

"Captain Erza Scarlet, captain-commander. She engaged him in single combat and defeated him. She is injured, but alive and expected to survive."

Yamamoto nodded. "Where I fell short, others did not. That is something. And, what of our casualties?"

Soifon took a deep breath. "The divisions are still being rallied and accounted for, but at least two thousand. That being a conservative estimate, of course. The arrancar wave has been exterminated, but it came at a dire cost. Fifth and Sixth Divisions are at fighting strength, but First, Third, Seventh, and Ninth have been decimated."

"More than half," Yamamoto muttered. "We will barely be able to maintain the balance between worlds. What else?"

"Captain-commander, I… deeply regret to inform you that Ukitake Jushirou has succumbed to his injuries. He has been proclaimed dead."

Yamamoto seemed to deflate, lowering his head.

"Jushiro…" he said weakly. He shook his head again, and for a moment he looked like a feeble old man.

Composing himself, the commander looked up again. "Two captains lost," he muttered. "It feels like a miracle we have any left at all." He paused, then something seemed to come to him. "The aberrant."

"Sir?" said Soifon, confused.

"The two hollow hybrids. Former officers Kuna and Yadomaru. Summon them here, now."

"I'll see to it, commander," Soifon said, bowing curtly.

It took a little effort to find them, but the two visored were in a presentable state. Wounded but patched up, able to stand. They had seemed surprised to hear that the captain-commander wanted to see them- surprised, and tense. Soifon took a step back, letting them approach.

"Kuna Mashiro," Yamamoto said, taking another laboured breath. "Yadomaru Lisa. You approached me… before combat, coming to our aid in our darkest hour."

"…Yeah," said Lisa cautiously, "we did. And, we made a deal. Right?"

Soifon heard it in her voice. She feared the deal would be discarded now that the battle was over, that he would go back on his word.

"I would like to propose… an alteration to this agreement," said Yamamoto, looking them in the eye.

"That being?" said Lisa.

"I am told you both… possess bankai. You are both former officers, and powerful at that. I officially extend to you an invitation to join us as captains of Divisions Seven and Thirteen."

Mashiro blinked. "Uh, what happened to us being, y'know, disgusting hollow people?"

Yamamoto shook his head. "We can no longer afford such caution or prejudice. You risked your… freedom in coming to us, and your lives in fighting… for us. That shows character. Our position is perilously weak, and we are in dire need of good officers to lead."

"And, if we say no?" said Lisa suspiciously.

"Then I will honour our agreement. You are… free to go."

"You really just offer this to us?" said Lisa, in disbelief. "After all that's happened? After what's been done to us? After what I know you think of us?"

"I may not… approve of such power," said Yamamoto, "but I trust you are not slaves to it. We have tolerated… far worse."

"Tolerated," Lisa muttered.

"I dunno…" Mashiro said contemplatively, tapping her chin. "I mean… it'd be kinda neat. Wouldn't it?"

"Are you serious?" said Lisa, giving her a strange look. "Mashiro, we've been on the run from them for over a century."

"Yeah. We have. And, now we don't need to be. We could… you know, go home."

"Our home's with our friends," Lisa protested.

"You were the one who said you were sick of running and hiding. You took a stand. Now you get to do it again. In the way you want to."

"Mashiro… you really mean it? You're going to just…?"

"I kinda want to, yeah," Mashiro said, looking out over the city. "There's a lotta hurt people out there. We have a chance to help. Don't you want to?"

"I mean…." Lisa said, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Don't be stupid. If you're going, I can't just… let you go off on your own. You know that. Where you go, I go." Gently, she took Mashiro's hand.

"I thought you'd say that," Mashiro said brightly.

"Just think it over, okay?" Lisa said pleadingly. "Don't make your mind up on the spot. This isn't like adopting a puppy, or whatever."

"Sure. We'll think," said Mashiro. "And, when we're done thinking, we'll be captains."

"You're impossible," Lisa muttered. She turned to Yamamoto. "No guarantees, old man. We'll take it into consideration. That's it; got that?"

Yamamoto nodded.

"Good… enough," he agreed.

Lisa looked out over the ruined city. A chance to help. A new beginning. Was it that easy?

---

The mood was tense. Elder Kuchiki Ryuji looked nervous, although he did his very best not to show it. Shihoin Yushiro fared much worse, despite his best attempts. Tsunayashiro Tokinada looked down on the both of them, hidden behind a mask of perfect indifference. There was a war on, and as the final battle commenced, so had a summit of every noble family of any serious repute, greater or lesser. The official reason was to discuss how the war effort would impact the Soul Society's economy, but the real reason- the one that they were all aware of but unwilling to admit to- was that each one of them was anxious to see their positions preserved, no matter the outcome.

Aizen Sousuke had been a powerful man. Yamamoto had ruled long and ruled well, maintaining the order of the status quo dutifully, but he had been shown up in a big way. Time passed. Strong men grew old and would be usurped by the young. Even if they were exceptional men, like Yamamoto.

What the assembly was called to discuss, in the most roundabout way possible, was what they were going to do in the event of Aizen standing victorious.

Tokinada already knew. There would be much grandstanding and hullabaloo, and even more talk of honour, duty, and loyalty, but one by one the houses would bend the knee to Aizen Sousuke. Who could stand before a man who could defeat Yamamoto?

The richest, most influential people in the Gotei were gathered here, and if there was one thing the rich and powerful feared, it was losing their wealth and power. So, they would all congratulate Aizen on his victory, work with him, and do their best to maintain their privileges. One or two clans, committed enough to the principle of honour, would rebel and be crushed. Tokinada secretly hoped the Kuchiki would go that far; they had many holdings that he could secure and profit from, ensuring the status of his family as the most prominent.

Aizen Sousuke, if victorious, would need them. No man ruled alone. No man could rule without the consent of his supporters, of the people who paid the taxes and filled their coffers.

"The Shihoin levy is ready," said Yushiro firmly, with the tone of a man eager to impress. "Should the worst happen, the last line of defence will not be found wanting."

"The Kuchiki likewise stand ready," Kuchiki Ryuji agreed. "Although, of course, we fully expect the captain-commander to emerge victorious. Our clan head does battle there as we speak."

Tokinada kept himself from rolling his eyes. The Kuchiki would never let anyone forget that one of theirs was a captain, and indulging the idea of a last line of defense was equally preposterous- even dangerous.

"Although I am sure we all have made the appropriate preparations," Tokinada said smoothly, "this is well established. None here doubt the courage and dedication of our fellow nobles. Plans of battle-readiness are undoubtedly already enacted by our respective commanders. We ought instead to discuss the matter at hand."

"Which is?"

The one who had piped up was Kasumiouji Rurichio, a young upstart from an upstart family. Tokinada did not like her. The young ought to speak with deference, doubly so given the lower status of her irrelevant family.

"The running of the Soul Society, naturally," said Tokinada smoothly. "It is our duty to do our part for administration with the absence of central leadership of the Gotei."

"The Gotei has its own administrators, does it not?" said Rurichio.

Tokinada struggled to hide his irritation. Of course they did. The obvious course was to use this opportunity to gain more influence, leverage over the Gotei. The Gotei were already in their palm through the Central Forty-Six, but the recent slaughter of the organizational body had left a lot of vacancies, which were filled very slowly. Yamamoto, already a powerful leader who brooked no disagreement, had gained far too much power in the meantime. This was a golden opportunity. Was she stupid, or just blinded by virtue?

Irrelevant; there was no difference between the two.

Before Tokinada could come back with a response that would undoubtedly have been less than courteous, a courier barged into the room, kowtowing before the council.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Tokinada furiously. "We are in session!"

"Please, let the man speak," said Ukitake Tenji, the representative of that smaller house. "He was let past the guards. There must be a reason."

"I concur," said Ryuji, nodding. "I urge the messenger to deliver his tidings. Rise."

The messenger stood upright, and nervously licked his lips. "It is my great pleasure to report, o' great and benevolent leaders of the clan-"

"Get on with it!" Tokinada snapped. "Spare us the formalities and speak!"

"Ah. Of- of course, lord. Er. Aizen Sousuke has been slain on the field of battle. Yamamoto was defeated in single combat, but Captain Scarlet avenged his fall. Although a great number of shinigami were slain, the Gotei stand victorious."

There was an uproarious cheer from around the large table where they were seated, and Tokinada slumped back into his chair, half relieved and half disappointed. A change in regimes could have been beneficial. Then again, there would be no threat to their current position, either.

After a while- rather too long for Tokinada's liking- the cheers quieted down. The oppressive mood at the table had lifted, and even Tokinada felt a little elated.

"Scarlet, huh?" said Omaeda Marenshin, scratching his double chin. "Sounds like that's the man of the hour. Or, woman of the hour, I mean. Right? Scarlet's a woman, right?"

Skipping past Omaeda's ignorance, Tokinada smoothly cut in. "This war will have left no shortage of heroes. But it does seem as if some expression of gratitude will be in order. In such trying times, will we not need an example to rally behind?"

"I agree," said Rurichio, and Tokinada instantly questioned his own words. "We should honour her somehow. Her and… the men lost."

"Yes, yes, some sort of monument will do," said Ryuji dismissively. "Commemorating all the fallen; you know the drill."

"Certainly," said Yushiro, nodding enthusiastically. "Ceremonies, awards, that type of thing. Commoners love that."

Tokinada sighed inwardly, half with relief. At least his legacy was not under threat.

---

The retreat was well underway. The wounded had been ferried home, and the less injured were now being marched through the gates. All around them, human responders had started to congregate; although most of these would not be able to see them, they had been forced to seal off a couple of blocks with kidou spells to ensure they were kept separate. It was an unbelievably crude measure, but there was no other option. Erza sat on a piece of rubble, her entire body aching.

"So," said Grimmjow, sitting opposite her, "now what?"

"A good question," said Halibel. "The dust is settling. Where will we factor in now? Your word has kept us safe so far. But…"

The question hung in the air. The ex-espada all had good reason to fear for their lives. The soldiers gave them hateful looks as they passed by, and Erza doubted many of the captains had understanding feelings toward them either.

"Now we go to the Soul Society and negotiate. I've spoken to the captain-commander, and he has granted you amnesty for the duration. At the very least, you'll be allowed to walk free."

"Even me?" said Grimmjow.

"If they're free to go, then so are you," said Erza, shrugging. "You've done more for us than anyone. Your time as a prisoner is over; that, I swear."

"…Huh," said Grimmjow, a little taken aback.

"And, we will not be detained? Executed?" Halibel said.

"The captain-commander just promoted two hollow-shinigami hybrids to captains. Things are changing. This will be an opportunity to build something from the rubble. Something better. I'm sure the commander will be interested-"

Their discussion was interrupted by the opening of a gate further down the street. It was grander than any ordinary senkaimon, lined with gold, and three resplendent figures stepped out of it. The first was a tall, muscular man, broad of shoulder, bald and with a huge, bushy beard. A ring of large beads hung around his neck. Like his compatriots, he radiated power.

Behind him followed a leaner man with an absurd pompadour style of hair and a mean look on his face. His bare chest showed off muscle and scar tissue.

The third was a tall, muscular man with wild hair and a sharkish expression, looking as if he sized them up for a fight.

"Who…?" Erza began, standing up. Soifon had reached for her blade when the gate opened, but relaxed.

"The royal guard," said the assassin, in disbelief. "I've never seen them in the flesh before, but they wear the insignia of the Soul King."

"Now they show up?" said Erza, gritting her teeth.

As the trio walked up, Yamamoto stood up with considerable effort, his remaining captains flocking behind him.

"Ichibe Hyoubusei. Tenjiro Kirinji. Kurayashiki Kenpachi," said Yamamoto, nodding respectfully. "The Gotei recognizes the royal guard. Your presence honours us."

Ichibe, arms crossed, took a step up. He seemed to look at Yamamoto as no more than a peer, perhaps as lesser.

"On behalf of the Soul King, we extend to you our congratulations on your victory," he said in a formal tone. "You have carried out your charge to satisfaction, Yamamoto Shigekuni Genryuusai."

"Well, sort of," said Kirinji, shrugging. "It's a right mess, this."

"Who are you to say this?" Erza bristled, anger welling up in her chest. "When we bled you sat safe in your castle, and you're going to tell us we made a mess?"

"Listen here, punk," said Kirinji, glaring at her. "I'm not taking shit from some junior captain barely out of her diapers, okay? Our job's to protect the Soul King, not save your sorry asses."

"Kirinji, please," said Ichibe firmly, "we are here to acknowledge their valour, not put them down. Sure, they lost many, but that's war. The order is upheld. That is all that matters."

He turned to Erza. "You. The one who slew the upstart. You show promise. Perhaps in time, you may join our ranks."

Erza looked at him, without responding. She was very unsure she would want to even if she had the chance.

"It does look dreadful," said Kurayashiki, looking over the still smouldering battlefield. "It must have been, to make Yamamoto unleash his full might. My condolences to the fallen."

"Hey," said Zaraki, his sword slung over his shoulder, "did he just call you Kenpachi? Because that's my name. I earned it."

"So did I," said Kurayashiki.

"And, there can be only one," Zaraki said, grinning.

"Please," said Kurayashiki. "You're a mess, and I wouldn't fight you even if you weren't. Service to the king puts you above selfish pursuits. I'd be happy to kick your ass, but it's not going to happen."

"Quite," said Yamamoto firmly. "Enough blood has been spilled already. Stand down, Zaraki."

Erza watched with increasing indignation. Something about the guard made her feel ill at ease. They radiated power of a kind rivalling Yamamoto's, but they seemed to lack any real care for the carnage before them. Distant, absent, just… shrugging at the disaster that they could have helped. They could have turned the tide and hadn't. Where was the sense in that?

"You've let yourself go, ain't ya?" said Kirinji. "Like, you won and all; that's great, but now you're making hollows into captains?"

Behind them, Lisa flinched, and Mashiro looked down. But, before either of them could retort, Byakuya spoke up.

"The Kuchiki has always held the royal guard in the highest esteem. For that reason, Captain Kirinji's words puzzle me. The lack of civility is distasteful enough," he said icily, "but these are very strange words to be spoken to those who fought and bled alongside us, by somebody who did not."

Kirinji bristled. "You think I'll take that kind of-" he began, but Kyouraku stepped up.

"I think it's best you leave," he said bluntly. "The Gotei acknowledges the congratulations. Tell the Soul King we are pleased that he acknowledges our efforts, and that we will continue to uphold the Gotei according to his will."

"Tch," Kirinji said, shaking his head. "You know, I thought you'd have better taste-"

"Enough," said Ichibe. "Really, Kirinji, I can't bring you anywhere."

Kirinji shrugged.

"As you please. We will take our leave. Yamamoto, you have done well."

Yamamoto nodded. "It is my pleasure to… serve," he muttered.

As the three opened another gate and stepped out, Erza felt strange. Ambivalent. They should have been honoured, but even without the disrespect, she felt… angry. They could have helped, and they hadn't. Those who could help and refused, in her mind, were bad people. These people represented what stood above them?

Deep in her mind, Aizen's words stirred. You will see, as I did, that the Gotei is beyond saving.

---

The heavens wept on the third day after their return, just in time for the dual funeral of Komamura Sajin and Ukitake Jushiro. The war had left no shortage of martyrs and war heroes, but these two signified a loss greater than any other.

The funeral procession marched throughout all of the Seireitei before heading outside to the funeral grounds. Ukitake would be buried at his family's estate, while Komamura would be laid to rest in Yamamoto's personal lands. It was as public an event as could be, every able-bodied soldier marching in the procession, stone-faced and grim. The mood was dire, even for a funeral.

It was an act of grief greater than just the loss of friends and loved ones, Erza mused as she walked in the procession. The Gotei had been humbled and shamed like it never had been before. They had failed to protect the people they were charged to defend. Their greatest champion had been defeated, and two captains killed. Each captain was a source of limitless inspiration to their soldiers, but the fall of one was equally great in proportion. To the common man, a captain might as well be a god, invincible and powerful both physically and politically. The fall of such a titan would be tremendous; to have it happen twice over in the wake of such a pyrrhic victory, after such a rude awakening from a time of peace, was a trauma to the Gotei in its entirety.

This was a time to process this and grieve, not just for one's personal losses, but for what they had all lost. Their safety. Their comfort and security. The innocence of a peaceful, stable organization carrying out a righteous duty, gone. Even Erza, who had no illusions of the Gotei being heroic, understood this. She had been an outsider for a long time, but everyone else here had spent a lifetime of service- or several- to the Gotei.

So, she marched quietly in the rain, leading the ranks of Fifth Division shinigami behind her.

The procession halted outside the walls; no single space in the Seireitei could accommodate the thousands gathered here. Ordered up in cohorts, the soldiery formed ranks in a half-circle around Yamamoto, for whom a podium to speak from had been raised. The first to speak, though, was Kyouraku Shunsui. After a quick exchange of whispered words with the captain-commander, he stepped up. The rain pattered down in a steady pour, soaking his clothes. He had foregone his pink jacket and hat, a solemn look on his face.

"Friends, soldiers, shinigami," he began, his voice resonating across the field through the strength of a kido spell, "today we grieve for the loss of our fallen. I cannot- I will not speak of the losses you have all taken. I will not tell you that you must take heart and be proud of them. You have all lost too much for me to disrespect you like so. Your grief is your own, and I will have you do with it as you, yourself, see fit.

"I will instead speak of my grief. Three days ago I lost my best and oldest friend. I have known him for centuries. Nothing can describe how that feels. He was my one constant, where others failed me or passed away. It's like losing an arm. Hell, if I- if I could lose an arm and bring him back, I would. I'd lose- I'd lose both."

Seeming overwhelmed by emotion, Kyouraku paused.

"Ukitake Juushiro was a brave man," he continued after a while. "He was the greatest of us all. He refused to yield to his illness, and defended our institution to the last. He was a beloved leader of men, a valorous warrior, a dutiful soldier, and, above all else, a kind-hearted man. I wish… I wish it were me instead. He was a man of true character, the kind we sorely need right now.

"But, I cannot change the past any more than you can. I loved him dearly, and I will honour his memory by trying to be the kind of man he thought I was. He always saw the best in people, and for his sake, I will try to do the same."

Kyouraku trailed off. For a moment it seemed like he had more to say, like he was not quite finished, but finally he stepped back. He rubbed his face, and Erza saw he was red around the eyes.

Yamamoto was the next to step up, leaning on his cane. He had only half recovered from his injuries, but gave no sign of it other than a certain stiffness to his movements.

"I have lost not one, but two beloved subordinates," he said. His voice was stone cold and firm, stoic even now.

"Komamura Sajin, a brave warrior who overcame great difficulty and prejudice to rise to the rank of captain, always my most loyal supporter. He fell in battle, protecting others. I could think of no more fitting summary of he was- strong, brave and dependable till the end. He always sacrificed for those beneath him. So he was in life, and so he was in death. I am profoundly proud of him, and so should each man he commanded be.

"I lost also Ukitake Juushiro, who was all Captain Kyouraku said he was and more. I never had any sons, but I had him, and… I could never have asked for more. As we honour the memories of these heroes, we must not forget who they were, or why they laid down their lives. They did not die for nothing. Their sacrifice was great, and it must remind us all why it mattered."

The words were not flowery or passionate, but they hit home with Erza. Komamura had died protecting her. Again somebody had died for her. Again she had been forced to watch a friend die. She wanted to say never again, but with what she had gone through, she doubted it could be said sincerely. There was always conflict.

She could not be sure, but the rain falling down the commander's wizened, wrinkly face made it look like tears. He would never show such emotion openly, and so it seemed as if the Universe had decided to weep for him.

A long series of eulogies followed. Each captain spoke, Erza included, on the sacrifices of the fallen. Both generally and for each included. Until nightfall, one soldier after another would speak, most of them from Seventh or Thirteenth. It was only as it started to get dark that the emotionally drained, weak, and wounded mass of soldiers started their march home, as the chests of the two fallen were escorted to their final resting place.

---

The reorganization of the divisions was underway. Erza had spent all morning reshaping her division, taking account of the casualties, and remaking every squad under her. Many squads had perished altogether, and others were so under strength that they had to be folded into other squads. Fifth had done better than most, something she felt proud of, but they were still severely short of soldiers. Fifth had consisted of some three hundred before the battle; two hundred and five remained, wounded included, and they were the lucky ones. Seventh was down to just over fifty men.

Even so, the reorganization had been finished, and along with Momo, she had headed to First Division to file the updated roster of soldiers and report their casualties officially.

"How are you doing?" Momo asked.

"Fine, considering," Erza muttered.

"You looked lost in thought."

"This- this place feels wrong now," Erza said, shaking her head. "Large parts of the Seireitei are dead quiet where it shouldn't be. It's like a ghost town. And… then there's the other thing."

"What other thing?"

"The way people look at me," Erza said irritably. "You've seen the way they keep going on."

"Yes," said Momo, nodding. "The chanting is a bit unexpected, I'll admit."

"They cheer my name," Erza said frustratedly. "Scarlet, Scarlet, Scarlet… it's the only time I've seen any of the troops happy since the battle. Like I'm some sort of great hero."

"You are, though," said Momo sincerely.

"I- I don't feel like it," Erza muttered. "It's like… well, I always commanded respect- I wouldn't be much of a captain if I didn't- but my own soldiers look at me with- with reverence, Momo. Like I'm larger than life, like I were a god of some sort."

"Erza," said Momo gently, her hand brushing up against Erza's, "you did just kill the greatest enemy the Gotei has seen for a thousand years. People like a hero. And, well, you're easy to look up to."

"I only killed him because Yamamoto softened him up," Erza muttered. "This victory belongs to him. Aizen was- he could barely stand when I fought him."

"The same goes for you."

"The worst thing," Erza grumbled irritably, "is that when I say that, which is true, they get this look in their eyes. Like they're smiling inside, thinking, Oh, she's not only a hero; she's humble, also. What a paragon."

"You are humble."

"Damn it, Momo, back me up," Erza groaned.

"Sorry. You'll have to live with being a hero. Comes with winning the day, I'm afraid."

Erza grit her teeth. "I don't like being worshipped. People who start putting people on pedestals stare themselves blind at the glow and never see the cracks. I'm- I'm a flawed person like anyone else. I only did what anyone should have done."

"You know, you're sounding awfully humble," said Momo, a small smile on her face.

"You're the worst," Erza muttered, without much conviction.

"She's not wrong."

As they had come closer to First Division, they ran into Kyouraku Shunsui. Pausing at the street corner, Erza nodded at him respectfully.

"Captain Kyouraku. Up on your feet, I see."

"And, you, too," he replied, nodding back. "Have you recovered well?" His tone was severe, and he had none of his usual cheer about him.

"Captain Unohana does great work. I'm not in much fighting shape right now, but I can at least move around," Erza said. She still felt quite sore, and her old injuries still hurt, but she'd be damned if she had to sit still. "And, the captain-commander?"

"He is… indisposed still. Unohana has ordered him bedrest for some time. He has been wounded deeply, both in spirit and in body. Until he is well enough, I have been given authority to act on his behalf."

Erza nodded. "Very well. We've reorganized our division-"

"We can save such trivialities for our administrators," said Kyouraku with a dismissive hand gesture. "I am here to ask you something."

"Yes?" said Erza.

"Your legend has grown. They hail you as the saviour of the Great Arrancar War, as they call it now."

"I've noticed," Erza grumbled. "I can't go anywhere without somebody grovelling or cheering."

"A terrible burden, I'm sure. But, it is precisely because of that I seek you out."

"What do you mean?"

"Morale is low," said Kyouraku severely. "We need to have functional squads on patrol to regulate the flow of souls within two days, or things will spiral out of control. We have just barely enough to manage. We're severely behind as it is, and understaffed. And, what we do have are demoralized, injured soldiers, shell shocked from a war they were never prepared for. Right now, they need something to rally around."

"Speak plainly," Erza demanded.

"Very well. I need you to give a speech, tomorrow at noon. We will gather as many as we can in First Division, where you will address them."

"A… speech?" said Erza, incredulous. "What about?"

"Anything," said Kyouraku, shrugging. "Anything will do, so long as it's inspirational. They will hang on to your every word. They need this right now."

"I'm a warrior, not an orator," Erza protested.

"It's not a request," said Kyouraku mildly. "Don't worry yourself too much. You've addressed your division before. This is the same, except for several."

"Captain-"

"Scarlet," said Kyouraku firmly, "we're this close to collapse. Our organization is battered and beaten, and hangs by a thread. Right now, it needs to hear that everything will be alright. This is part of what leadership means."

Erza sighed. "No choice, huh?"

"None," said Kyouraku firmly.

"I'll think of something," she said, shrugging, "but I cannot promise you greatness."

"I'll have some of our writers stop by," Kyouraku said. "It's less about what you say, and more about how you say it."

---

The crowd had gathered in the main square of First Division. Well over a thousand had gathered; not quite as many as the funeral had drawn, but the courtyard was still packed, and so were the galleries of the surrounding buildings. Several captains were in attendance, too; Erza could see Kyouraku, Soifon, and Yamamoto standing quite near to the podium prepared for her. She swallowed nervously. Momo gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as she approached.

Erza had spent the better part of last evening writing what should amount to a passable speech, in conjunction with a small team of writers. The papers in her hand were full with mentions of valour, bravery, and noble sacrifice. None of it she necessarily disagreed with, but…

She shook her head, let go of Momo's hand, and stepped up to the podium. A spell had been prepared to boost her voice; they would hear her every word. A roaring cheer went up as she stepped forward, the crowd of soldiers chanting her name with deafening fury.

It tugged at her heart strings to see it. Many of them- most of them- still carried the marks of battle. Fourth were working overtime, and though the most critically injured were treated now, many still had broken arms or gashes. Most had an arm in a sling, or a bandage round their head, or some raw, red scabs starting to form scar tissue. Many had torn uniforms. They had endured so much pain, and the cheer in their voice sounded so… real, so raw. There was a desperate joy in their voices, like she was the greatest thing they had ever seen.

It wasn't just that she had killed Aizen, she realized. As momentous a deed as that was, these really were traumatized, wounded people, in body and in spirit. They needed her. They needed somebody to tell them it wasn't all for nothing.

And, well, it wasn't.

Suddenly, Erza knew what to do.

Slowly raising both hands, she let the cheers die down over time. When things had fallen silent, she said, "Soldiers of the Gotei Thirteen, my fellow shinigami, do you hear me?!"

There was a resounding roar from the crowd as they shouted their approval. She let them cry out, then raised her hand again.

"I spent last night writing a speech for you all. Carefully measured words to reassure you."

Demonstratively she grabbed the stack of papers and tore it in two, tossing the speech aside. Scattered, the papers fell to the ground.

"I've never been one for prepared speeches. Can't do it. Instead, I'll speak from the heart."

There had been confusion at first, but upon her words, they cheered for her a third time. As it died down, Erza continued.

"We all lost people. I've been instructed to tell you this was glorious. Right. I'm sure you'd have listened if I said it. But, we all know what we suffered through was terrible. Is there glory to this? Glory in losing so many to the designs of a madman?"

She saw Kyouraku shoot her a worried glance. Soifon looked at her intently, and Erza nodded at her.

Just trust me.

"It's not glorious. But, it was worth it. We took a stand because nobody else could, because we had to. We all fought and bled together, fulfilling our purpose to protect humanity from the terror and murderous design of the hollows. We held the line. We did not break. We killed them all!"

The crowd roared with approval, and feeling confident, Erza raised her hand again. She was starting to get the hang of it now.

"We killed our enemies. Now we look to the future, to make peace, to ensure this does not happen again. Now, we remember the fallen. Because we all lost something. We all lost beloved comrades. I lost a good friend, and a respected colleague. I very nearly lost many more. Some of you may feel like this victory came at a great cost, maybe too great a cost. Did it? Is there any cost too great to stop a murdering madman, the kind who would kill ten thousand souls in a heartbeat, as if they were nothing? I nearly died more times than I can count. More than once, I was ready to give up. But, I kept going, not for myself but for my loved ones, for my family, for my division. I nearly paid the ultimate price, and I feel privileged to stand here when so many do not. But, I would have given my life at a moment's notice if I had to, not because the Gotei demanded it of me, or because it was my duty, but because it was the right thing to do!"

Again, a deafening cheer. It felt strange. The crowd hung on her every word. She had power here. She could say anything and they'd agree in this moment, no matter how harsh, no matter how radical. It was tempting to weave in her gripes with the Gotei. It certainly deserved criticism.

But, this was not about her. It was about them, and about the dead. She would not cheapen this tragedy for personal reasons.

"I did fight Aizen Sousuke, the vile traitor," she continued, her voice growing loud, passionate, fiery. "I fought him in single combat and killed him. Many call me 'hero' now. Some seem to think this was my victory. But, I tell you all this was not my victory. It was not the victory of Captain-commander Yamamoto, or his captains, or the Gotei Thirteen. This was our victory. The one we all shed blood for together, bled for, fought for, killed for!"

The cheers were more than deafening now; Erza almost could not hear herself think. Steeling herself mentally, she let them carry on for a full minute, before raising her hand. Almost instantly, they quieted down.

At her fingertips.

"I know you think I am somehow special. I am not. I simply did what I thought was right. I could not have done it without the valorous and heroic efforts of Captain-commander Yamamoto…"

This earned another quick cheer, and Erza continued.

"…or without my beloved vice-captain Hinamori, or without any of the other captains, or without any of you. Each one of us came together, fought, bled, and sacrificed, and we won. Hueco Mundo was emptied upon us, and we stood firm. We were put through a crucible of fire, and we did not break."

Another deafening cheer. They seemed to be in a frenzy, many people calling out her name. It unsettled her deep inside. Nobody should command such power, such popularity.

"So, I tell you all," she continued, "look not to mere organizations like divisions, or to your leaders. You are heroes just the same as I would be. Did you not sacrifice? Did you not bleed? Look to the man next to you. Look in the mirror, and see there what you see in me! Look to your fellow soldier, take care of what you have left. Take care of each other. Love each other, because your friends and family are all you have. If you take any lesson from this war, let it be that!"

She gave them time to cheer, and finally stepped back, having run out of words. As she stepped down, Yamamoto stepped up, ready with a speech of his own. The noise simply would not quiet down, though. For minute after minute, they continued cheering, an overwhelming cacophony of noise.

"Well, that seemed to do the trick," Erza muttered as she was approached by Kyouraku. She had just stepped inside a barracks, eager to put some space in between her and the fanatical crowd.

"Not exactly what we discussed, but yes," Kyouraku said with a nod. Outside, the crowd finally started to quiet down, and Yamamoto's voice rung out, delivering firm words of his own.

"A more formal speech right there," Erza said, taking a seat. She felt exhausted.

"He could have read them the dictionary, and they'd still have cheered. After that warmup…" Kyouraku shook his head.

"Will I be reprimanded?" Erza muttered.

"I doubt anyone would stand for it," Kyouraku said with a chuckle. "They love you now. A commoner risen to the rank of captain, now the saviour of the Gotei? The one who gave them hope? If the idea was to not make them look up to you, you've done a poor job of it."

Erza sighed. "They needed me. Couldn't say no to that."

He nodded approvingly. "Now you're talking like a captain."

She gave him an ambivalent look.

"Don't look so skeptical," said Kyouraku severely. "It's not all about corruption and oppression. I lost men I've known for decades."

"I'm sorry," said Erza. "It's just-"

"I understand," said Kyouraku, giving her a calming hand gesture. "Think nothing of it."

"I guess I'll have to get used to being a hero," she muttered.

"No choice in that, no. But, you fit the role quite well already."

"The thing about heroes is that they let you down. Aizen was considered as good a man as Ukitake once. I believed in him. People who believe too much in someone are bound for disappointment."

"I don't understand. Should we not look up to our role models?"

"No. No, it's not that. Everyone does need role models. But… the power that comes with it. The power anyone here has. Aizen used this system to his advantage, and he did it easily. It needs to change. Nobody should command this much influence. It can't be allowed to happen again."

"Agreed," said Kyouraku with a nod. "But, how?"

"I… don't know," Erza admitted. "Some sort of limit on power, maybe. On what you can and can't do if you have it."

"Sounds like politics to me."

Erza made a disgusted noise.

"Well, like it or not, that's where you'll have to go if you really look to change things," said Kyouraku.

Politics. She knew nothing about it. But… if she wanted the Gotei to reform, instead of washing it in the blood of its rulers as Aizen had planned to do, that was what she would have to learn.

---

Thirteenth was abuzz with curiosity. Spirits were high; the address at First Division had spread like wildfire to those who could not attend, and the soldiers had found a way to ignore, for the time being, the horror they had all gone through. Some of them shared the first laughs they'd had since that time.

But, now the cheer was somewhat dampened by uncertainty. They had been summoned to the central yard of the division to meet their newly appointed captain. All sorts of rumours were going on about her; some aged veterans swore she had served with them before, others were dead sure she was supposed to be dead, and others still claimed she was some kind of renegade, or some sort of monster created by mad science. Rukia had her hands full organizing the crowds. Sentaro and Kiyone were too grief-struck to do the work of leading the division themselves, so it had fallen to her to make them fall in line, stand up straight, and focus, act like soldiers. Her rank was not high, but people had heard of her exploits in battle, and coupled with her noble name, it seemed like it was enough.

It was strange. Some of Thirteenth seemed to look at her almost with reverence. She had killed a powerful arrancar in single combat and upheld the division's honour. With their captain having fallen… it was like she was all they had. Was this how her brother felt, all the time? Always looked up to by others, always knowing how much hinged on his image of strength?

Eventually she managed to get them sorted, standing up in decent rows facing the main hall of the division. Taking a stance up front, Rukia stood to attention and waited.

On cue, the new captain walked through the door.

She had a strange look about her. She wore the shinigami uniform well, complete with a fresh jacket with the division's symbol on it, but she looked like nothing one would expect a captain to be. She had green hair and a youthful face, and was not much taller than Rukia, herself. She had a serious look about her, but not severe.

There was a lot of uncertainty in the air, much of which Rukia shared. The new captain was an unknown quantity. Would she be kind, like Ukitake? Would she be more serious and stern, like Rukia's brother? Would she land in between?

"Thirteenth Division," started the captain, her voice ringing across the yard, "I am Kuna Mashiro, your newly appointed captain. Glad to meet you all."

There was an uncertain silence, before Rukia called out, "Good to meet you as well, captain!"

As she did it, she gave the crowd a stern look. They had to rally behind their captain, good or bad. Following her cue, the crowd repeated her greeting, not in perfect tandem, but it was a start.

Mashiro nodded. "I know you don't know me, and I know I'm coming after somebody very special who meant a lot to you. I'm not here to replace who he was to you, but I am your new captain. I didn't know Captain Ukitake personally, but I know he was a good man. When I was a little girl, he saved my life. I always looked up to him since. As your captain, I will look out for you, and you will do what I tell you to do. That sound fair?"

Again, the silence. Again, Rukia broke it.

"Yes, captain!"

Again, her reply was repeated.

Mashiro nodded again.

"I'm not really good at big, inspirational speeches, but I do want you all to know the truth from day one. I'm done hiding who I am. It might make you uncomfortable to know it, but I don't want it to be hidden.

"Over a hundred years ago, I was made one of Aizen's victims, just like so many of your friends. Me and seven of my friends were lured out and became part of one of his freakish experiments. I was a vice-captain then. So was Lisa, the other new captain. We were turned into monsters, but thanks to Urahara Kisuke, we were saved. It's hard to explain- I'll just show you."

She tugged a fist down over her face, and an insectoid hollow mask appeared over her face. Shocked whispers and murmurs ran through the crowd, the soldiers looking to each other.

"I am what's called a visored. I am a shinigami with a hollow's powers. I've worked hard to control it. It's not dangerous, not anymore." Her voice reverberated through the mask.

The murmurs were growing stronger. Rukia balled her fists and shouted, loudly, "Be quiet, all of you! Your captain is speaking to you. Do you think you get to talk over your superior officers?!"

The murmurs died down, and Rukia saluted. Mashiro nodded at her, looking grateful.

"Like I said," she continued, taking off the mask, "I have experience. I've been a vice-captain before, and I have a bankai. I have powers that might scare you, but I'm here to help. I know it will take time to get used to each other, but right now, you need me. I'm not Ukitake Juushiro, and I'm not going to try to be, but I'll try to run this place like he did."

It was not exactly an inspirational speech, but it was honest. When it became apparent that nobody else would do it, Rukia clapped her hands, slowly at first. Soon the people next to her followed suit, and there was a loud applause ringing out over the yard.

When it died down, Mashiro nodded at Rukia.

"You," she said. "Name and rank?"

"Kuchiki Rukia, recently promoted to eight seat, captain!" Rukia said firmly, taking a step forward, standing to attention and saluting again.

"Tell me, where's the vice-captain? Where are the leading officers?"

"This division has no vice-captain, Captain Mashiro. After Vice-captain Shiba Kaien was slain in battle, Captain Ukitake did not have the heart to replace him. The role has been largely fulfilled by Third Seats Kotetsu Kiyone and Kotsubaki Sentaro, captain."

"And, where are they?"

"Indisposed, captain. They were particularly close to the captain, acting as his carers during his fits of illness. They are struck with grief, sir."

"It sounds to me like we have no leading officers present, but still one seated officer acting like one," said Mashiro thoughtfully.

"Apologies, captain. I have overstepped my bounds. I simply thought that-"

"Oh, shush," Mashiro said, casually waving Rukia's apology off. "You did the work of an officer because it was necessary. That's what this division needs. Kuchiki Rukia… you fought in Karakura, didn't you?"

"Yes, captain."

"You killed an Espada, didn't you?"

"I was thankfully able to kill the Espada Zancrow, yes," said Rukia.

"So, you can walk the walk and talk the talk," said Mashiro, nodding approvingly.

"…that is one way to put it, yes. Captain," Rukia said stiffly.

"Well, seeing as this division has no vice-captain, and I have a competent officer right in front of me, I think there's a solution to that issue. What division can go without proper leadership, in a time like this?"

"…Captain?" Rukia said, astonished.

"I mean, eighth seat?" said Mashiro incredulously. "When you're a war hero? We need to put you somewhere more useful. Why aren't you a vice-captain already?"

"I… my noble brother preferred for me to not stray so close to the front lines," Rukia admitted.

"Then he can take it up with me. I am officially promoting you. Will you do it?"

"I… yes," Rukia said hesitantly, still in shock. It felt unbelievable. Standing here, where Kaien had once stood…

I'll make you proud.

"It's settled, then," said Mashiro, nodding. "We'll start with a tour of the division. I need to know what goes into running it, and it's been a while."

"Of course," said Rukia. "Right this way, captain."

---

Grimmjow paced. He had been pacing pretty much since they had arrived at the Soul Society, growing ever more restless and foul of spirit with every day they stayed there. They had been escorted to First Division quite covertly on the eve of the battle. As far as Halibel knew, their presence was a secret. It was just as well; she couldn't imagine anyone here taking kindly to their presence.

Still, they had been treated with hospitality. Their wounds had been seen to, they had been given food, and they had been mostly left to their own devices. The officer who liaised with them had been courteous, if not warm.

"Three days," Grimmjow growled. "Three fuckin' days. I'm going mad in here. Fuck this place, fuck the shinigami, and fuck having to stay in this bullshit room!"

It was bizarre, Halibel had to admit. Herself, Grimmjow, Neliel, Jellal, her fracciones and Jellal's, all of them congregating in a spacious room with Gotei décor. Quite a nice room, at that. Very different from the cold, dark aura of Las Noches.

"Calm yourself," she said firmly.

"You calm down," Grimmjow snarled. "I'm supposed to be a free man, me. I paid my dues. I'm not like you dumbfucks who only switched sides at the last moment, when you were already beaten!"

Halibel rolled her eyes. This man had a way of testing her patience.

"Grimmjow-" Neliel started.

"Keeping us cooped up, just waiting for the opportunity," he muttered, ignoring her. "Mark my words, those bastards will kill us or lock us up, and I don't know which one is worse."

"Grimmjow," Halibel said firmly. He had done his fair share of ranting and raving, and most of it was just his way of venting frustration, but the mistrust was a recurring theme. It affected the others. She could see it in their eyes. "We are not prisoners," she said firmly. "No attempt has been made to restrain us. Nothing stops any of us from opening a garganta and going home. We stay here on my say-so, because we need to negotiate."

"Negotiate," Grimmjow spat. "You sound like fucking Aizen."

"First of all," said Halibel irritably, "Aizen never negotiated. He always got his way, and woe unto you if you went against him. Second of all, we've just seen war. I felt the powers there. We would not survive such a conflict again. If there can be something more than just anger between our sides… then we should see it through."

Grimmjow muttered a few profanities, but did not dare challenge her openly. A hollow through and through, he was fully aware of the pecking order.

Before he could continue his rant, the door opened. Everyone tensed, at the stage where they were ready to attack if necessary. They eased up a little when they saw it was Erza, followed by Captain-commander Yamamoto and Captain Soifon.

"About fuckin' time," said Grimmjow, but his tone had eased up, sounding almost pleased.

"You look like you're doing well," said Erza. "Everyone, please remain seated. We're here to discuss what's to be done with you. First of all, let me assure you I've spoken on all of your behalf. I believe we can reach a course we can all agree on."

"Fuck me, Red, not you, too," Grimmjow grumbled. "You're too good to talk all stuck-up like."

"Silence," Yamamoto rumbled, and there was a mild thrum of power. Even Grimmjow shrunk back in the face of this.

"Let the record show that negotiations between the defeated party at the battle of Karakura and the Gotei Thirteen have begun," Soifon said officiously, taking up paper and pen. "I will be taking notes personally. All you say will be taken down for posterity."

Yamamoto nodded. "I am placed in a strange position. Already I have accepted two outcasts as captains, unimaginable as an idea only weeks ago. Weeks ago, execution would have been my only remedy for arrancar prisoners. Both ethically and practically; ethically because your existence is an offense to ours, practically because each of you present a threat. Yet, I have been given cause to reconsider. Tier Halibel, I am told you surrendered personally to Captain Scarlet?"

"So I did," Halibel said stiffly, nodding.

"Why?" demanded the old man.

"I had long started to doubt Aizen Sousuke's grand talks of peace and prosperity. The mindless assault on Karakura finally convinced me he was no better than any other warlord, and after an intense… discussion with Captain Scarlet, coupled with her assurances of fair treatment, I decided to surrender. This deal was extended to Neliel Tu Oderschwank, Jellal Fernandes, and all of our servants."

"Captain Scarlet made assurances, indeed," Yamamoto said, "but she had no official capacity to negotiate. Legally, I could kill you all without having betrayed my words. Yet… I am not as inclined to do so as I once was."

"I would assume so," said Halibel, measuring her words carefully. "You do not strike me as the sort of man who would merely talk about killing people. You are not like Aizen, who liked to watch people squirm, lord."

"This whole war was a great debacle. One of our own turned out a far greater monster than any hollow I have met, whereas enemy hollows like yourselves acted honourably. Up is down, down is up; left is right and right is left, and what was once right is now wrong and vice versa. I have come to a different decision, not because I have changed my mind on what a hollow is, but because… perhaps it is necessary to speak with the other side. For the greater good."

"That is… good," Halibel said, nodding. She shot Erza an uncertain glance. What was the old man getting at? Erza smiled behind his back, and Halibel felt a little less uneasy.

"First things first," continued Yamamoto. "Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."

"Yeah?" said Grimmjow, looking defiant but sounding anything but.

"You are a vicious and vile creature, murderous and proud of it, vulgar and cruel. But you have shown signs of great growth, or so Captain Scarlet tells me. More importantly, you provided important intelligence to our cause, and directly aided us in battle. Effective immediately, you are pardoned of your sins against the Gotei Thirteen, and granted your freedom. Do not raise a hand against our own again, or you shall be considered an enemy."

"Fuck yeah," Grimmjow said, pumping a fist into the air.

"As for the rest of you," said Yamamoto, ignoring Grimmjow's elation, "you were all enemies, and did direct harm to our cause. However, it is recognized that you were under the sway of a cruel and powerful man. You are not pardoned, but… well, I shall speak plainly. With Aizen Sousuke, Coyote Starrk and Barragan Luisenbarn dead, the most powerful force in Hueco Mundo would be you, Tier Halibel. It is the Gotei's desire that you establish yourself as its ruler, and maintain order."

"…That, I could do," said Halibel, "but I cannot control every hollow. Most of them live out in the wastes, and listen to no master. They will still hunt humans for food."

"So they will," said Yamamoto, nodding sagely. "We have no expectation of absolute dominion. What we wish to avoid is another war such as this. It would be disastrous for the both of us. You seem to lack the cruelty and arrogance of your predecessors. Make use of that, and keep that world a stable place."

Slowly, Halibel nodded. "Very well. We will keep to our space, and you will keep to yours. None of us will initiate hostilities unless the other sides does so first. Is that agreeable, captain-commander?"

"It is."

"This will be a first step," said Erza. "It's not going to solve all our problems, but from now on, we'll at least be able to have, um, diplomatic relations. We'll be able to talk to each other. We can work things out without having to make the worst of it. Jellal, this will be your chance. Make your new home a better place. That will be your penance."

Jellal nodded, seeming moved. "I will. I swear it."

"There will be quite a few details to work out in this agreement," said Yamamoto, "but these are the most important aspects of it. We will negotiate terms as equals, however much it may displease me. This is no longer a time for brute force. We must rebuild, both of us."

"That, we must," Halibel agreed. "I accept your terms, captain-commander. I will rule… together with the others. Aizen was a warlord, but I shall try not to be."

Erza smiled at her, and Halibel felt the unease lift away. This was… an opportunity.

---

Byakuya had worked himself to exhaustion, ignoring his wounds long enough that he had collapsed two days in. Following that, Unohana Retsu had instructed him in the strongest possible terms- with a smile and a gentle tone, of course- to remain in his mansion until he had fully recovered, with only light organizational duties, such as could be carried out through dictation to servants.

The request was not one that could be refused. His health Byakuya was less concerned with, but nobody defied the chief medic of the Gotei. As such he had spent the last two days in deep contemplation, giving general orders for his vice-captain to execute regarding the division and attending clan politics.

There would be a feast of celebration in his name this evening, something he could not have very well refused. He had participated in a great war and come out victorious. He had brought honour and glory to his family name, and tradition demanded such a triumph be celebrated.

But, this rest had given him time to contemplate his role in this war, and he had found himself questioning such celebration. He had shamed himself by turning against Rukia. He had tried desperately to redeem his lost honour in active service, only to be rebuked by his commander for it. He had fought the espada Ulquiorra Cifer in single combat twice, and lost both times. He had emerged triumphant only when aided by Kurosaki Ichigo, a half-breed from a disgraced house and a hollow hybrid, to boot.

Things were changing, and changing quickly. All of these things felt deeply disgraceful to him on a very personal level, but it contrasted with the simple facts. They had won. He had fought and emerged victorious. Great though the cost had been, it was victory. Byakuya was far less concerned with the sacrifice, itself; soldiers had a duty to die if it was necessary, and for a man who would lose an arm if necessary, or his life, even the sheer scale of the conflict did not affect him.

But, the discomfort of who had won it and how did. Yamamoto was tacitly approving of abominable creatures by electing them to captaincy, and what was more disturbing to Byakuya was that he did not disapprove of it, either. Kurosaki had proven able to control it, and he was inexperienced. This was victory, but to Byakuya it felt as if they had lost not only men, but principles.

He ought have been more offended. It made him uneasy that he was not. Most of all, he felt like his efforts were insufficient, the glory empty. Deep inside him, the shame of his past actions still burned at him, and the war had not redeemed him. It would have taken an act of exceptional honour and heroism to do so. In the quiet of his personal garden, Byakuya doubted even that would have been enough.

Shame. Why should victory feel so disgraceful?

His musings were interrupted when a servant walked out onto the terrace behind him, bowing such that his forehead touched the ground.

"What brings you here? Speak," Byakuya demanded.

"There is a man at the door, oh master," said the servant, not raising his head. "He claims to be an acquaintance of yours, and says he is here on urgent business. One Kurosaki Ichigo, master. He insisted you would know him by name."

Byakuya paused before answering. Speak of the devil…

"Show him inside," Byakuya said, giving a dismissive nod. The servant hurried away, and not long afterward the familiar figure of Kurosaki Ichigo walked into his garden.

"Hell of a place," Ichigo said, staring out across the garden. It was a thing of beauty. Centered around a koi pond, it had lush grass, carefully tended cherry trees in full bloom, and flowers aplenty, all of it tended to daily by the best gardeners of the clan.

"It is peaceful," Byakuya replied, ignoring the young man's lack of decorum or deference. "I rarely get to spend much time here. Confined to my home for the time being, I take solace here."

"Yeah, I bet." Said Ichigo. He looked… strange. Something about him had changed. His once prideful, confident gait was gone. He looked brow-beaten, tired. There were bags under his eyes.

"Speak," said Byakuya. "As you will not stand on civilities, I shall dispense of them also. You did not come here on a social visit, I assume."

"…It's true," Ichigo admitted, nodding. "I mean, I did want to see how you were doing. You took a beating back there. Like all of us did, you know? I know that whole… thing screwed me up pretty bad. I figured it had to get to you a bit too, even behind all that calm."

"I am perfectly well," said Byakuya coolly. There was all of one person he would show any kind of vulnerability to, and Rukia was not here.

"If you say so. Look… you're right. I did come here for a reason."

Byakuya did not respond, settling for a look. If Kurosaki had business, let him speak it.

"Thing is…" said Ichigo, sounding strangely awkward, "I know you taught me some kidou because Erza ordered you to. You had to. And, you were a good teacher in the end. But… I guess I feel like there is a whole lot left to learn."

"You are correct. You made decent progress, but your grasp of theory and basic execution is still lackluster."

"Right. So, I was hoping… I know you don't owe me anything. I'm just a commoner, and all that. I showed you up when you were trying to die honourably in combat and stuff. Doesn't make sense to me, but I get that's how you see it. But, I hoped that maybe…"

He trailed off.

"Your kidou is subpar," Byakuya said, ignoring the unspoken question. "Additionally, your swordplay leaves much to be desired. You are fast and powerful, but you lack experience and precision. You are not half the man you could be, Kurosaki Ichigo. It's disgraceful mediocrity."

"Sheesh, tell me what you really think, why don't you?" Ichigo muttered. "I get it. I can take a hint-"

"It would dishonour my name if such a mediocre student were to finish his training with such imperfect skills. You were taken under my wing as a student. I will not accept your resignation at such an incomplete stage."

"…Resignation?" said Ichigo, nonplussed. Seeming to catch on, he added, "I mean, right. Got it. 'Cause that's what I came here to do. But, um, I guess you talked me out of it. So…"

"I will expect you here three times each week for two hours of training each session in the evenings. One hour spent on kidou, one spent on refining swordplay. Is that clear?"

"…Crystal," said Ichigo, sounding like his old self for the first time since he had come here.

"You endured much," Byakuya said, looking him in the eye, "and at a very young age. You gave all you had in defense of your own, for something greater than yourself. You conducted yourself with honour, and served with distinction. Remember that the next time you doubt yourself."

"…Yes, sir," said Ichigo, seeming completely taken aback. Kuchiki Byakuya, lavishing him with such praise?

"I will see you next week, seven days from now. I should have recovered well enough by then. Was there anything else?"

"No. Um. Thanks," said Ichigo, a little bit in disbelief by the sounds of it.

"I will see you then."

"Right. Uh. See ya. Captain."

Ichigo managed a sloppy bow, and headed out. To himself, Byakuya was already thinking of a new training regimen. The boy would need good instruction, and Byakuya, himself, would need to brush up on some aspects of kidou theory. He also would need to find adequate space for this training. Perhaps bring in a specialized instructor to critique his sword skills…

There was much to do. Byakuya was not one for smiling, but something about the grimness of the situation seemed to have lifted.

---

The personal office of King Sigismund Ywach was getting hot. Not literally, but the mood was getting quite a bit more heated than was normal. There was a debate ongoing, which had been more or less constant since Haschwalth had come back home to report, personally, that Aizen Sousuke had been defeated at the cost of half of the Gotei's forces.

"It's obvious," Subutai insisted, for the umpteenth time this far. "To attack now would mean victory, certain and sealed. It is unbelievable that I even have to make this argument. I know you may not be a commander of my quality, Jugram, but you have commanded troops. When have you ever seen an opportunity like this and thought, 'You know what, I shouldn't attack and seize victory?'"

"When honour demands that I do not," said Haschwalth coolly. He had quite a lot of patience, Sigismund knew, but Subutai was pushing it to its limit. The reason he had not stopped it yet was because as abrasive as the Mongolian was, he had a very fair point.

"Honour!" snarled Subutai. "Gods spare me from this naïve notion. On the field of battle, anyone- Chinese, Mongol, Russian, knight or commoner- will do what it takes to win. Victory is ours to seize, and you throw away a certainty based on sentiment?!"

"If it is such a certainty, then why should it matter if we delay a few years?" snapped Haschwalth.

"This is an opportunity. To not seize upon it is pure folly," Subutai insisted. "To pounce when the enemy is weak is no different, morally speaking, than to attack him in the open field or in a siege. War is about achieving your objectives, not about your honour."

"If we sacrifice our honour, then our reason for fighting is hollow," Haschwalth insisted.

Sigismund sighed. They had gone back and forth in this manner for hours now, laying out every possible argument back and forth.

"Silence, the both of you," the king said wearily, finally tired of it. His commanders fell quiet.

"If I am to summarize this objectively," Sigismund continued, "you, Subutai, consider it foolish not to seize upon an opportunity and take victory. I sympathize. I have led enough battles to know that while it may be considered dishonourable to attack a weaker foe, it is impractical and foolish not to. Our war is to be fought not just for the sake of honour, but for achieving a greater good."

"Exactly!" snapped Subutai, "which is why-"

He fell silent as Sigismund raised a hand.

"However," the king continued, "I am at heart a knight, also. You were picked as my leading general because you were the most brilliant commander in the most successful army of your era. You are also a ruthless butcher. I knew this when I recruited you. We need men of your calibre to lead, just as we need men like Haschwalth to teach us restraint. If we treated the Gotei like you treated your enemies, we would slaughter every last man, woman, and child, burn the city to the ground and take all of its wealth for our own. Is that not how the Mongolian army treated those who defied them?"

"…Yes," Subutai said, nodding, "and those who heard of it would not defy us later. It was an effective tactic."

"But there is no other city to intimidate, and no secondary campaign to wage. And we will absolutely not treat them like so. We will conquer to change the afterlife for the better, not to raze it. Honour does matter. The only question is, does it matter enough to stay our hand here and now? On this, I am torn. The Gotei are still a fighting force, however traumatized. They would have home field advantage. Many an army have died after fighting too many battles, worn down by attrition. Haschwalth, as much as I sympathize with not fighting the already beaten, that in itself is not a strong argument, although it is not without merit."

"Then-" started Subutai, but the king but him off.

"This campaign will be waged with honour, without looting or excess brutality. Even so, I resent the idea of defeating Yamamoto at half his strength. I came close the last time. I should not wish to defeat him on account of his wounds."

"Is that worth the lives of your brothers and sisters in arms?" Subutai protested.

"It is," Sigismund nodded. "Our values are worth dying for. I understand you see it differently, but they are."

"Your majesty," came a voice from further down the office. It was Liltotto Lamperd, who had been called in to be present at the meeting, but thus far had been too intimidated by the illustrious commanders and their heated debate to speak up.

"Paladin Lamperd," said Sigismund, "speak."

"There is another matter to consider," she said, a little nervously, "of a more practical nature?"

"Such as?" Subutai demanded.

"The Gotei forces regulate the flow of souls from one world to the next. Without a corps of shinigami to facilitate the movement of lost souls to the afterlife, the balance between the physical and spiritual world would be disrupted. This would be… disastrous. I'm not sure how disastrous, but I don't think it would be inaccurate to call it apocalyptic. And at half their strength… well, if we win and the cost is that they can no longer perform that service, we will have won at the cost of dooming the afterlife. Perhaps even killing all ensouled life in the ensuing backlash. I don't think victory would be worth that."

"There is of course that aspect," said Sigismund, nodding sagely as if he hadn't nearly forgotten it amid the intense discussion of morality, "and although we do not know what the minimum required to perform this duty is, we cannot afford to take chances. General Subutai, although I am inclined to agree with your reasoning, we must give them time to recuperate, if for no other reason than to ensure the survival of the very thing we seek to liberate."

Subutai grit his teeth, let out a frustrated grunt, and then nodded. "My king has ruled. There is nothing else to say."

"We will have our justice," Sigismund assured him. "We have waited hundreds of years. We can wait another ten."

"Ten years?" Subutai sputtered.

"A necessary minimum. We will keep close eyes on them as we go, of course."

"Very well," said Subutai, his tone heavily restrained. "If my king requires nothing else?"

"Nothing at the moment, no. You may go."

Subutai gave a quick bow and marched out of the room as if he had a grudge with the stone under his feet.

"He will not take that well," Haschwalth remarked.

"He has waited so long. It's the ultimate prize. He may grumble and gripe about it, but he will be there," said Sigismund dismissively. "Ten years. Ten years of rest and recovery, and then we will issue our demands. And, when they reject them…"

"Then we will take them by force," Haschwalth said.

"And, there will be justice for all."

---

And there we have it, part one of two for the Arrancar arc wrap-up is nearly complete. I'm sure there are plenty of questions you have though, so I'll answer them as best I can.

1. Why did you make Lisa and Mashiro Captains? Why not use the vizards who already were captains? Did you kill off Ukitake and Konamura just for this?

I can safely say that the decision to kill off Ukitake and Konamura was made fairly early on, way, way, before I had even considered the notion of having the two of them become captains. It always bothered us both that the side of the gotie took no real losses in the original canon, and after thinking about it for months on end, these were the two captain's chosen. Konamura because after Tosen's death his arc is pretty much finished anyway, and Ukitake because of how it would affect the Gotie as a whole, but particularly Yamamoto, Shunsui, and Rukia. All of the remaining captains had future plans for them, so in the end, there was really no other choice than those two. Still, I like to think I had them go out in a blaze of glory.

Why these two vizards though? Well, to be honest, it just so happened though that they were the two vizards we focused on before the arc started (Mashiro being my favorite and Lisa being GreatkingRats), and thus, it just kinda made the most sense to use those two since we used them the most. I like Shinji, Love and Kensei just fine, (Rose is just kinda there for me.) but I felt that using these two, in particular, could be more, well, fun and original.

2. Who is Kenpachi Kurayakshi?/Why is he in the zero division?

To make thing's clear, this is not an OC, but rather a character taken from one of the Bleach light novels "Spirits are forever with you." While I have some issues with the story, the concept of Kenpachi Kurayakshi, a captain given the offer of being promoted to squad 0 was really cool to me. In the light novel, he refused the promotion and was killed by the 8th Kenpachi (in a rather cheap fashion I might add) which I felt was a waste. So in this version, he did take the promotion. Furthermore, I always felt like squad 0 never really lived up to the hype, so I figured adding a Kenpachi to their roster would help.

Also yes, Oetsu, Shutara and Hikifune are still members, they simply didn't come down because someone has to stay back to protect the king.

3. How is Tokinada alive? I thought Tousen killed the man who killed his friend.

Tousen did kill the one who murdered his friend, it's just that in this version it wasn't Tokinada. While the Tokinada in CFYOW is certainly an interesting character, I overall find him a bit too "over the top evil" to really make use of him. So simply consider this a "retooling" of the character.

Also yes, that was Rurichio from the Kasomioji filler. I have plans for her down the line.

4. Why the Knights of Vanden aren't attacking.

I had a whole scene to explain this, but just in case you are still confused, here is the TLDR version.

"Kill too many soul reapers, the 3 worlds would cease to properly function and create armageddon. Also Honor."

Well, I think that about covers the broad strokes. The next chapter is the Finale to the arrancar arc, so please read next time to see how it all ends!