Summary:

Diplomatical talks, the red soldier and a late realisation.

Notes:

Hello everyone!

I want to start of by an apology. I had written on the second chapter notes that I would try to update this story on the 1st and 15th of evey month, but it was and is not possible for me. From being sick to overwhelmed with work to being sick again and then having even more work added to the pile... It's just not possible for me. I want to write good chapters, that I feel proud of and that push the story forward, so it takes time. I see the comments asking for more, I have people asking for an update, but I choose quality over rushed updates. I hope you will all understand.

This chapter focuses more on the "secondary" characters. Like I tell my friend, don't hesitate to read chapters multiple times, because most of the answers to the questions are hidden ;))

Now on to it!

Chapter 3

Isshin glared at the gates in front of him, making his wrinkles and serious look evident on his face. Urahara still hid his face behind his fan, gazing at the opening gates, who sheltered the isolated village from pretty much anything and anyone.

"My, always the mysterious fellows." He chuckled and Byakuya sighed, visibly annoyed to agree with the other man. Their leader gave a little grunt, not minding their little quarrel as their horses moved forward, under the vigilant eyes of several archers.

The Ishida village was one famous for its archery, but also for their knowledge of the terrains and the past, ancient writings safely guarded in their rock fortress. Each of their homes was made of a white stone neither of the Kenshi tribe men had ever seen, had even heard of. Blue paint was drawn on the outside walls, intricate shapes and lines, perhaps a forgotten language. The people of the tribe all wore white cloaks, some over their backs, others draping over their shoulders. The few children outside, visible to the newcomers, had long dark hair and white traces on their faces, down their noses and lips.

"The children are trained to become adults." Urahara had explained once, hat hiding his features as he rummaged through his mysterious belongings. "Not in the way we or any other tribes do. Here, children experiment life with their parents, or close ones. They learn by watching and feeling. In the Ishida Tribe, they are confined all day in a specific part of the village. They study, learn how to read and how to fight with a bow. Once adults, and only then, they exit the village."

Isshin's eyes drifted away from the shy faces of the small ones to meet the harsh, cold and clearly hostile glare of the head of the clan, Ryuken Ishida.

Ryuken was like his people : straight in his clothes, his impeccable white cloak never letting a glimpse of what was underneath feed the curious eyes of the travelers, his stony face inquisitive. And his hair an ash color.

Isshin dropped off his horse, straightening his back. He needed to talk to the man now, before any more time passed and danger grew. His traveling companions followed behind him, Byakuya silently scanning the village, watching as the warriors were glaring daggers at them, hands on their bows already. Urahara, once again, didn't seem to be worried. The man could be strolling through a market, he wouldn't be more stressed.

"Ryuken. Thank you for allowing us in." Isshin told him in honest thankfulness, to which the white-haired man snorted.

"I know you and your men are stubborn enough to camp outside for moons if we don't open the doors to you now." He answered dryly, but there was no real bite to it. "Now, why would Isshin Kurosaki, the prestigious leader of the Kenshin Tribe come here?"

That was all him : not turning and turning, but going straight to the point. Well, at least, it would be quick to explain.

"The Stone of Shez has been touched, dirtied, by the hands of an unknown enemy." Isshin started, hand raising to rub his neck, sighing. The travel really had been a pain. "We are convinced someone is trying to interject with the Gods' wishes."

The leader of the Ishida Tribe stared at him silently, not appearing shook while all the people in the village had gasped in shock. Someone had dared to touch what was holy, what was forbidden. If the culprit wasn't found and killed soon, the divines and their wrath would be poured over all the tribes. With no exception.

Ryuken turned around, walking back to the white stoned fortress he had come from, a worried look evident on his usually neutral face.

Isshin, Byakuya and Urahara followed him, the Ishida warriors letting them pass as worried murmurs started to run throughout the village.

Renji had looked over the Kenshin camp all day long, and after drying the skin of a freshly hunted deer, decided he had to find Ichigo. His friend had been out for too long, especially if he was supposed to simply head to the Stone of Shez, and with the night slowly eating the sky away, the absence was worrisome. The man could fight, yes, but he wasn't supposed to.

"Ichigo isn't back?" A short-haired woman came to the tattoed man. He didn't have to look down to see Rukia, her dark-as-night hair and deep violet eyes instilling a sense of ease in the young man as he sighed.

"Nah. I was thinking of looking for him." Renji turned from his work, grasping a knife and pulling it up and down the skin.

"It would be foolish of you. Night is coming. It would be far too dangerous for you to go, and you wouldn't see a darn thing."

"So I should just wait for our friend, and future chief, to return while we roll our thumbs?"

Rukia frowned at the angry tone, but understood. Ichigo was an important person, to all of them. If anything were to happen to him, it would greatly jeopardize all of the clan's well-being. She looked to the side, seeing the village minding its business, the warriors in their everlasting training, and the laborers coming back from the fields.

"We won't roll our thumbs. They are still many things to do. I'll go check on the crops. The cold times are coming, and we won't always have meat." With that, and a gentle tap on the shoulder, Rukia left, her tiny frame walking to a nearby group of workers. Their faces shone when the swordswoman came to them, her presence a great reassurance.

Renji stared for a few moments before placing the knife down, a groan in his throat. Rukia was right : he couldn't do much, because going on a search party now would be as stupid as leaving for the day without anything else than an "I'll go check what the scout said". Tsk. What a dumb idea of going alone there, especially to meet a scout.

Wait... A scout?

Renji froze, frown going impossibly deep, the tattoos on his forehead digging like claws.

All the scouts had returned and non had reported a blasphemy on the sacred Stone.

He felt his tongue getting dry, his back shivering and a cold sweat run down his skin. Ichigo had been investigating the Stone based on what a scout had reported, yet, there was nothing to report. It meant... Either the scout reporting had lied, and nothing was wrong. Either... he had disappeared. Vanished in thin air. And nowhere to be found, Renji, or anyone else, could interrogate the silent man.

The tall red-haired man hurried to the barracks, passing by his friends with a scowl, not saluting them back. The warriors let him enter the long hut after a gaze down, and soon, second war chief was in front of him. Kenpachi looked busy as ever, scolding an apprentice for the way he was holding his zanpakutou.

"God damnit, I told you! If you're gonna be a two-handed fighter, faster! Look at your legs, it's like they're diggin' in the damn ground! Can't..."

"Excuse me, Chief Kenpachi." Renji dared to interrupt, lowering his head down, bowing to the man as he turned around, a mad look in his eye.

"Huh? Ya dare say somethin', Abarai? Wanna fight?"

He gulped, obviously not inclined to accept. Not only would it be a free-ass beating ceremony for him, but he wasn't sure he'd get out of it alive. Breathing out, Renji raised his head up and started to explain.

"I'm sorry to interrupt the training, chief, but as you know, our leader, Grand Chief Isshin went away this morning. His son, Ichigo, also left. Both father and son are investigating on the Stone of Shez..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know that. What do you want?"

"The scout who warned us, I cannot find him. I wish to look for him in the barracks. If he's not here, then it would mean he's either dead, either a liar who ran away." Renji breathed out, the harsh denunciation now pushed out of his throat. Kenpachi's eyes widened, the grip on his weapon tightening. Treachery only resulted in dishonor, and could'nt be redeemed. The second war chief wasn't known to be the forgiving type.

"Are you certain of that, Abarai?"

"Sir, I wouldn't be here if I wasn't ready to put my hand in the fire."

The older man looked at him with a grin, the wild look in his eyes revived after the worry.

"Men! You heard the task! Find all the scouts and bring them here! Whether dead or alive, I don't give a fuck! Even if there's nothing but a hand, bring all you know here! Take fire with you, night won't stop us from finding out!"

The grotto had been silent for hours now. No more whispers against the stones, no more playful splatters in the baths, no more sweet kisses hidden from their people and blessed by their Gods. Ichigo had left with a long face, hoping, swearing he would return soon. Nothing was certain, especially with this story of a fool's hand on the Stone. Orihime grunted and placed her hands back on her dress, the tiny red stones of her unique necklace brushing against the bronze of her bracelets. She needed to concentrate, think of her prayers instead of the external threat.

The sound of footsteps made her turn around in a rush, eyes wide to see who had returned, hoping it would be the orange-haired man.

"It seems you are done with your short pilgrimage, Inoue Sama."

The tall figure of a blonde woman with bright blonde hair was standing behind her, stopping the sun from shining in the cavity. Her eyes scanned her up and down, verifying that all the necessary accessories had been put in their proper place, that the clothes were clean and pure.

"Ah, please Harribel, there is no need for the 'Sama'... I'm no High Priestess." Orihime answered with a confused and awkward chuckle.

"Not yet. But you are to be in the next full moon. So if your pilgrimage to the Sacred Stone has not brought you peace and wisdom, then it would be a shame for you to not see daylight." The older woman squinted her eyes before turning around.

In the Holy Tribe of Hira, the High Priestess was the main pillar that held all of their beliefs together. She was the most powerful and controlled woman in all the lands, forced to offer her life in devotion for the Gods, forced to live in a sanctuary and spend her life in prayer, if she wasn't busy studying texts or surviving the attacks of unbelievers. If, she had the choice, Orihime would choose the life of any woman from any village, any tribe. The path she was born to take wasn't the golden and glittery one people expected, believed it was.

If she could, she would trade all the riches and comfort she owned for the mud and the small meals all women seemed to have. So she could be in peace, and learn about life.

So she could love Ichigo without feeling like a traitor to her world.

Orihime stood up, carefully saluting the Stone and other different sacred objects in the grotto, the watchful eyes of her tutor on her back.

Night had fallen, the trees barely rustling with the light wind, everything so dark around him. All seemed so void of life, void of happiness. The man stirred, but immediately winced.

His sides were drowning in blood, the dark liquid coloring the mushrooms around him in the same dirty, sticky substance.

Ichigo could feel the life draining out of him, his wound to the side looking like a perforated lung, that his movement had widened, with an addiction of extra broken ribs, shattered in and outside his body. The young man couldn't raise a finger, nor to press on the wound, nor to call for help, nor to ask who the person in white standing in front of him was.

Notes:

I love reading your thoughts hehe, comment below what you think might happen next!