Of all the chapters so far that took this long...I feel like this one really shouldn't have.
It's been a weird couple months. A busy three weeks at work certainly took up a good portion of my usual writing time, and even then I was almost a bit daunted by where the story left off last chapter; there were so many options to choose from, I had a hard time really narrowing down how I wanted things to go. You know, because I really didn't plan ahead nearly as much as I should have. Like an idiot.
Anyways, here we are. Bit of a slower chapter here, nothing terribly groundbreaking, just setup for future events. Like the next chapter, which I am incredibly excited to start writing for multiple reasons.
Speaking of, many things both in the next chapter and later on, and in fact most of the tuning up of my chapters will now be officially credited to my friend/editor/QC/lead brainstorming associate: Trolzylulzy. He and I have been working out a lot of the specifics and details on everything from the Adjucha form for Shin in the beginning to future character and plot developments, and is pretty much my muse at this point.
And with that, I hope you all enjoy, and hopefully the next chapter will be out much sooner than the recent trend would indicate.
See you next time.
Chapter 14:
The cheery sound of idle conversation swept through the room; casual remarks, sarcastic replies, the occasional chuckle or hearty laugh ringing out. Despite the happy atmosphere, Nel felt her eyebrow twitch from some unfathomable emotion at each outburst.
"Ichigo."
The orange-haired Arrancar in question didn't notice her quiet call, instead adopting a pained look in response to a particularly bad joke from Pesche, not bothering to look up from the book he was skimming through surprisingly attentively.
"Ichigo."
Dondochakka, stomping in from the other side of the room, shook his masked head at yet another cringe-worthy attempt at humor from his pale friend.
"…Ichigo."
This time a particularly loud burst of laughter drowned her out, and she felt the other eyebrow begin to twitch as well.
The three men started in surprise as the air cooled drastically, turning to see Nel radiating a poisonous green aura, tendrils of her hair writhing like some sort of hellish gorgon. The effect vanished as she visibly exhaled, narrowing her eyes at each in turn. "Are you done?"
They nodded in unison.
"Good. As happy as I am to see you so relaxed for once," she said, pointedly looking at Ichigo again, "why, exactly, are you always here?"
"Where else would I be?"
"Oh, I don't know…maybe in the enormous tower that belongs to you now? You know, as an Espada."
He grimaced at her words, scratching the back of his head. "It's so empty in there, I can hear my own footsteps echoing for miles."
"Then recruit some fracción or something! I personally saw several dozen line up at the entrance to your quarters just last week."
"Eh, they were mostly just curious to see me up close or wanted to suck up." He grimaced at the thought. "Not sure why they came to me for that last one, I don't care about the whole ranking thing."
Nel massaged her forehead with one hand. "I get that, just…you're always here."
"Well, we've got no orders yet, and you're all here too," Ichigo said simply, glancing around at the other two in the room as well. "I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be right now."
Pesche tilted his head. "As flattered as I'm sure we all are by that, what about Harribel and that other lady…Sung-Sun?"
Ichigo rolled the idea around in his head for a moment, finally shaking his head. "Harribel is kinda blank, I still feel like I barely know her. And Sung-Sun…"
All three looked at him expectantly as he trailed off. He shrugged after a long moment, returning to his book. "She's different."
Nel and Pesche traded a look and a raised brow before smiling to themselves, the Espada taking a seat of her own with a small sigh.
In the time since the restructuring of the leadership, many in Las Noches had expected the war to truly begin; strikes against the Soul Society and the leadership were expected, perhaps ambushes could be planned against roaming patrols of Shinigami. Instead, the only orders they received were to hold and prepare. Within a week of this, the atmosphere within the palace had taken on a rather pensive air.
"It's very strange to see you like that," Pesche remarked in the quiet, causing the younger Arrancar to look at him oddly. "With a book. Reading."
Ichigo frowned.
"Why?"
"I dunno…it doesn't really fit this image I had of you."
"I was always at the top of my grade in school."
"And here I assumed you were some sort of delinquent."
"You little…"
Dondochakka chortled merrily. "Dat nothin', you shoulda seen Pesche when he was young."
The sound of the Arrancar's indignant protests and laughter from the other two rang out, soothing Nel's busy mind like a balm. Little exchanges like this had become fairly commonplace in their idleness, along with other welcome changes. Dondochakka was no longer terrified of Ichigo on sight, for one.
Throughout Las Noches the return of many Hollow's full sanity – or lack thereof – had made for an interesting situation. The scuffles and occasional 'disappearances' had stopped entirely, leaving a rather melancholy sensation that Las Noches had rarely seen; with no real orders, most of the Espada also chose to remain in their private quarters, resulting in a strange sort of calm in the halls.
"Oh yeah, Dondochakka, why didn't you get a uh…upgrade yet?"
The tiki-masked Hollow tilted his head in question.
"Er…you know, why don't you have Aizen do his thing and make you an Arrancar?"
"I already is."
Several seconds passed before Ichigo seemed to realize what the other man said, but the obvious question still appeared on his face as clear as day. Pesche noted his confusion, interrupting smoothly.
"Dondochakka has always been like this, even as an Adjucha. He was never as hungry as the rest of us either," Pesche remarked casually, picking at the hilt of his zanpakuto with one fingernail. "Especially not as much as our dear lady here."
"Oh, yeah?"
Nel felt her cheeks warm slightly in embarrassment, purposefully avoiding the grins she knew were pointed her direction.Shaking away the sensation she sighed lightly, eyes alighting on Pesche again, who was now attempting to buff the side of his weapon's sheath with one sleeve.
Hmm.
"I think I've had enough of sitting around," she announced, snatching up her own zanpakuto from a table nearby. "Let's go, all of you."
All three looked up at her in surprise.
"Arrancar or not, letting ourselves become lax is unacceptable. It's time for training. That's an order."
Her two followers shrugged and stood easily, Ichigo stubbornly squaring his shoulders in his seat. "If I remember right, I do outrank you…" he muttered under his breath.
O--O--O
Tier Harribel was never one to show much emotion, both literally and figuratively; her mask in previous forms and the remnants of that still hid the majority of her features to this day.
Regardless of that fact, clear surprise was very evident on what was currently visible.
"Training…?"
The previous Third Espada, Nelliel tu Odelschwanck, stood at the entrance to Harribel's tower, her two fracción and Ichigo lingering close behind.
For some reason, there was a large swollen lump protruding through his orange hair.
Tier blinked at it curiously, finally deciding to simply continue; she may have been imagining the satisfied expression on Nelliel's face when she turned back, but chose not to comment on either.
Nelliel responded to her previous question, nodding determinedly. "Sitting around too long dulls the body. A demotion does not mean I intend to let my own skills, or the skills of my fracción, degrade as well."
Harribel could appreciate the sentiment wholeheartedly. Otherwise, she would not have agreed to spar with Shin – Ichigo – in the first place.
Speaking of…
"And you, Ichigo?" she asked calmly, turning her aqua-blue gaze his way. "As before, I would welcome the chance to improve."
The young man glanced at Nel furtively before nodding. "Sounds good."
"Doesn't it?" Nelliel mused, ostensibly to herself.
Ichigo winced, one hand straying towards the lump on his cranium before he caught the motion, folding his arms together rather grumpily.
Harribel smiled slightly behind her mask at the exchange, turning to face her quarters and calling out softly. Within moments, her own followers appeared in the distance.
She swiveled back to see Nelliel turn thoughtful. "Where should we go? I suppose the same place you two used before would be fine…"
"Yeah, should be," Ichigo grunted out. "I don't see why no-"
"Pfffthahahaha! What the hell happened to your head, carrot-top?!"
O--O--O
The thin figure of Ulquiorra stood as a barrier between them and the sunlit interior of Las Noches. Without a sound he raised one pale hand, pointing back the way they had come, punctuating two syllables with deadly calm:
"Out. Side."
O--O--O
"He didn't have to be such an ass about it."
"To be fair, the last time you had any sort of fight within the walls, you vaporized nearly an entire wing of the palace."
"Hey, I was fighting for my life. And yours."
Ichigo grinned at the resignation in Nel's posture, the three Espada standing on a raised dune of sand a ways out from the outer walls of Las Noches, overlooking the fracción from both groups below; Sung-Sun and the tall, almost Amazonian woman named Mila Rose seemed to be holding a curious conversation with Dondochakka, while the remaining two were sparring a little further on.
Ichigo took particular pleasure in seeing the slim figure of one black-haired Arrancar woman, the sleeves of her otherwise typical uniform cut short at her upper arms, being run in circles by an agile – and heartily laughing – Pesche. He caught a glimpse of her face screwed up in annoyance as she whirled in an attempt to catch her opponent with a spinning kick, audibly cursing as he avoided it. The single frontal horn on her mask fragment, otherwise curving back over her short-cut hair, glinted dully in the moonlight as she lunged at the other Arrancar over and over.
Nel caught him watching her and raised one critical eyebrow.
"Don't give me that look, she's getting what she deserves."
"For laughing at your 'bump'?"
"Yes," Ichigo said, with as much dignity as he could muster.
They watched for another minute as Pesche drew his weapon with a elegant flourish. Ichigo squinted at it.
"Is…is the blade made of reiatsu?"
"Yep."
"Then why does he keep it in a sheath?"
"Mostly to mess with people."
With a cry of 'behold, my Ultima!' the wiry man sprung forwards at Apacci, who had revealed the bone bracelets she wore to be her own zanpakuto, flicking them into spinning discs as he approached.
"Now then," Harribel spoke calmly, "shall we start as well?"
Nel blinked at her, as if she had forgotten their purpose in being here, before showing an unusually excited expression.
Without another word, the two women strode across the desert, putting a fair distance between the ongoing fight of their underlings and Ichigo himself.
He was never one for drama, but the prospect of the previous and current holders of the third seat made his stomach twist in expectation. After a moment of this he frowned.
Am I a battle junky?
The thought vanished as the two drew their blades. He watched Harribel in particular; he had been curious about the oddly proportioned scabbard that was affixed to her back for some time now. The woman in question reached back, hooking one finger through the ornamental holes in the guard, flicking the weapon out and catching the hilt with one hand as it spun in a showy display. Oddly enough, it almost looked like a paper cut-out of a sword; the entire middle section was empty, the outside edges being essentially the width and depth of a normal katana tracing out into the shape of an even larger blade.
Even from where he had sat down on the sand, he could see Nel staring curiously at it before Harribel assumed a ready pose, sliding her own more normally-proportioned Gamuza into a defensive stance.
Without a sound the dark-skinned Espada sped forwards, clashing against the other in a shower of sparks. For a moment she locked blades with her elder, steadily pressing harder. It was clear to even Ichigo that Nel was being pushed back, the strain on her face visible.
With the scraping sound of steel on steel, she deflected Harribel's blade to the side, stabbing ahead with blinding speed in the same motion. Harribel recoiled in surprise, barely managing to avoid the hit as she skidded backwards, eyes wide.
"I may be weakened," Nel said calmly, regaining her stance with enviable ease, "but I don't believe I've misplaced my skill."
The words hung in the air dangerously; for all her composure, she had been an Espada for longer than most in Las Noches could remember. Sheer power was no guarantee of safety in this world, it took much more than that to survive for long.
Harribel tilted her head in acknowledgement, taking a more cautious stance herself, and they began again.
Among the rapid clanging of their blades, Ichigo was soon distracted by footsteps in the sand from behind. He turned partially to see Pesche and Dondochakka arrive on his right side, Sung-Sun and the rest on his left, also watching their masters battle.
Apacci snorted softly, looking impressed despite herself. "Well, looks like the old lady still has some tricks."
Ichigo grunted at that, trying to watch the two Espada's movements closely, only passively paying attention to the rest.
"Who won over there?" he asked after a minute, watching as Harribel's strange zanpakuto began to glow mid-strike, the open center filling suddenly with radiant yellow energy. The technique trailed behind like a glowing ribbon as Nel blocked the next strike from the empowered weapon, the force sending her flying back several dozen feet.
Mila Rose, the three extensions of bone covering her wild brown hair glinting in the moonlight, smirked down at her shorter companion. "Apacci lost, of course."
That provoked a growl from the other. "The hell do you mean, 'of course'?!"
"Oh please. He's a natural Arrancar, he was toying with you the whole time."
Apacci scowled at that, finally drawing herself up, looking smug. "At least I didn't have a hard time against the big one! He's not even an Arrancar!"
Ichigo glanced over in amusement, and could easily imagine sparks flying in between them. "Actually," he interjected, "Dondochakka is. That's why he has a zanpakuto.
The two swiveled to look at the man in question, who had his weapon planted in the sand beside where he sat; earlier the tribal Hollow had opened his jaws, reached into his own throat, and with disturbing ease pulled out the massive studded club and declared it his 'sword'. Ichigo was just assuming it was a zanpakuto; partially due to his own discovery about the strange Arrancar earlier that day, and partially to mess with the other two. He was delighted to find he was correct as Dondochakka nodded ponderously in agreement.
Mila Rose and Apacci's mouths fell open at that, Sung-Sun merely hiding a small smile from them behind her sleeve. "Really, you two. How could you not notice that?"
"SHUT IT, SUNG-SUN!" They chorused in accidental unison, turning once again to glare at each other, teeth audibly grinding.
Ichigo felt a smile threatening to raise the corners of his mouth, catching a sly wink from the snake Arrancar as the two grappled with each other furiously. Looking over towards the two Espada still sparring, she daintily lowered herself on to the sand next to him. Ichigo raised a brow at her for a moment before shrugging. "What about you?"
"Hm?"
"What, did you not get a chance to train?"
Sung-Sun regarded him oddly. "Ichigo, it may surprise you to know, but Hollows do not typically practice like this."
"Er…why?"
The slender woman sighed gently, as if reminding herself of his circumstances. "Most simply know how to fight on instinct. Have you ever seen a wild animal practicing how to hunt? It's the same principle; we know how to fight, we know our abilities. If every Hollow had to consciously learn this, our life expectancy would be even shorter than it already is."
The explanation made sense, in a way. From what he could tell from the other Hollow memories he had absorbed, all had known what their strengths were, it was inherent. One missing detail made itself known, and he frowned.
"Okay, I get all that, but what about now? As an Arrancar?"
She tilted her head at him. "What do you mean?"
"Do you all know your zanpakuto's names and everything?"
Sung-Sun's lavender gaze bordered on incredulous for a long moment, possibly the most surprised he'd ever seen the woman visibly show.
"Ichigo," she began, sounding deceptively calm for how suspiciously she was staring him down, "What is the name of your sword?"
The two squabbling behind her caught the tail end of the question, looking rather confused; on his other side Pesche was unashamedly listening in, while Dondochakka was still watching the ongoing battle with an unusual air of serene peace.
Ichigo blinked at all the attention, meeting her eyes awkwardly. "I, uh…I don't know."
O--O--O
Once the spar between Nel and Harribel had finally come to a close, the news to them had resulted in a rather…unusual response from the Seventh Espada.
In the form of her grabbing Ichigo's shoulders and shaking him like a ragdoll, each protest he tried to voice cut off from the whiplash.
"Nel-"
"Why!"
"Hey-"
"Can't!"
"Gah-"
"You!"
"Hrk-"
"Be!"
"Fuck-"
"Normal?!"
"OFF!" With a roar, Ichigo shook his way out of her grip, arms whirling about furiously until he settled in a mock-karate stance.
To one side the Tres Bestias were laughing to themselves, and even Harribel was watching with an amused cast to her aqua-blue eyes.
Nel let out a long breath, composing himself. "Okay, okay. Sorry."
"You should be!"
Some of the fervor from before flashed back into her eyes, and she crossed her arms moodily. "Is that right. I disagree, because any time you cause trouble for whatever reason, I have to worry."
"What are you, my mom?"
The dark laughter she responded with should have warned Ichigo what was coming – but he didn't realize until she was on him
As the two faced off, grappling back and forth and arguing, Pesche snuck up from behind, reaching out one long finger to tap at the enormous sheath on Ichigo's back.
"What are y – hey, heyheyheyOW!" the orange-haired Arrancar had glanced back for a split second, only to have Nel take advantage of the distraction to wrestle him into a headlock, grinding a knuckle into the top of his head. With an impressive show of strength and an annoyed grunt he managed to bodily throw her off, Nel flying away with a surprised yelp.
"I was just wondering," Pesche mused, not seeming to notice the ongoing scuffle, "whether you have a Resurección or a Shikai."
All present paused at the thought, Harribel and her group slightly more confused, while Nel drew herself back up from the aggressive crouch she had been in, looking thoughtful. "You do have both traits, I almost forgot…"
Ichigo watched her suspiciously for another moment, eventually lowering his guard, brow furrowing as he considered that.
He'd never had this so-called 'instinctive knowledge' the rest of the Arrancar seemed to possess. Sure, maybe he had adapted well with what he did know, but what did that say about the upcoming conflict?
Harribel stepped closer, examining the large weapon on his back. "If you do have Shinigami blood, it may simply take time to discover your own abilities as they do. As for otherwise…" her cool gaze drifted up to the mask fragment at his right temple. "Your Hollow abilities may respond in the same way."
"What do you mean, 'take time'?"
Tier folded her arms under her bust – which he very pointedly did not watch – explaining in a patient tone.
"Shinigami, as you may be aware, do not simply start with their zanpakuto. They receive what is known as an asauchi, a blank sword. Through the course of their training and use of that sword, their reiatsu and spiritual essence is instilled into the weapon over time, eventually causing the zanpakuto to form into the most suitable match for that Shinigami. The zanpakuto that they end up with are reflections of their souls, both in form and function. Through meditation, most are able to communicate with the spirit of their zanpakuto, and thereby increase their own affinity with it as well."
Ichigo nodded, listening carefully. What she said matched up with the faint memories from other Hollows he could think of, with one notable difference: none of them had been Arrancar.
He voiced as much as Nel joined them, seeming satisfied with letting Harribel continue.
"We Arrancar all know the names of our zanpakuto from the moment we ascend," the Third Espada mused, still examining him passively. Ichigo glanced around at the newer Arrancar to check; Sung-Sun inclined her head in confirmation, Apacci muttering 'well duh', in response.
He let out a long sigh, flopping back onto the sand. "Well that's great. And here I thought I wouldn't have anything to do for a while, lucky me."
Nel shrugged. "There is at least some good news to this."
"Yeah?"
Her expression turned uncomfortably toothy. "This way, I can kick you around for a good reason. For training purposes."
Ichigo leapt back to his feet with an agile twist, feeling a surge of adrenaline sear its way through his blood. He smiled at the sensation; with the return of his self, he had been almost afraid those Hollow instincts had faded. He was much the same as in life, but now combat was…exciting.
No reason to not enjoy what I can, not in this place.
The rest moved a short distance away as he drew his zanpakuto with a smooth motion, huge blade pointed up and forwards as he settled into a stance with it for the first time.
Breathe.
His loosened his grip, rolling his neck to several satisfying pops. Images and sensations not his own flitted through his head, and he shifted the tip of his sword lower to the ground.
Hmm…
Unfamiliar knowledge had him adjusting his grip slightly; his right hand slid up, hugging the guard closely, while his left wen the opposite way, circling near the tip of the long handle.
He may never have held a real sword before, let alone something of this size, but his body reacted accordingly to the weight of it, and he immediately felt more comfortable.
He noticed Nel watching him warily, knowing she had seen the small adjustments to his stance well enough to know something had changed. Her eyes met his for an instant – just before she vanished from his sight.
TURN.
Ichigo whirled, hands guiding his weapon closely around his torso as he spun, intercepting Nel's blade with a loud clang. He saw brief surprise in her expression before she wiped the emotion away, falling into a familiar pattern he had seen before in their spars.
He moved to match it; her zanpakuto darted in at his flank, and he immediately rolled his blade over to deflect it. She two-stepped to his opposite side, hilt shooting towards his exposed left side; one hand left the grip of his own sword, catching the blow with unerring accuracy, putting a quick shove into it to offset her posture, other arm sweeping his blade around to catch her in the same motion.
He had the brief satisfaction at again seeing her typical battle-calm break for a moment as she dove under the strike, rolling in the sand and using the momentum to hop back to her feet further away.
"I may have mentioned this before," Nel murmured, clearly regarding him with more caution, "but you adapt far too quickly."
He grinned, both at how he had caught her off guard and how quickly he had adjusted to the huge weapon. "What can I say? I'm a fast learner."
The next few minutes went by like a blur, the ringing of steel and their exhalations the only sounds they made. He fell into a comfortable mix of wide sweeps with both hands, and the sensation of taking one off the hilt to cover any holes in his defense or strike with his fist quickly became second nature. His hierro was turning out to be useful in that regard; he never had to worry about hurting himself, even if he had to deflect a blade to the side with his bare hands. Still, Ichigo could tell that Nel wasn't going all out. She was measuring her blows too much compared to what he had seen before.
She's probably trying to give me time to adjust…I was only fighting by hand before.
Part of his mind balked at the notion, and the savage expression that appeared on his face had his opponent visibly recoiling, emerald eyes widening.
Not fast enough.
At that thought, he shoved her next swing far to the side, using sonido to flash to her back, tendons in his arms jutting out as he swung down with all of his strength – even then, the Arrancar pivoted in a blur, sword hissing through the air to intercept his.
The instant it did, the larger weapon shattered with a violent sound.
Cursing in surprise, Ichigo staggered back, feeling tiny splinters of metal bounce off his skin, the top half of the blade sticking itself into the sand nearby, and he stared at the jagged stump he still held in dismay.
Nel frowned as she approached, blade sheathed, and crouched down to the severed piece. She sighed and gave him a weary look. "I would say I'm surprised, but that feels like an exercise in futility at this point."
He wasn't sure how to respond to that.
The rest of the two groups joined them as Nel ran a hand gingerly down one side of the broken section, frowning. "I've never heard of an Arrancar's zanpakuto breaking like this before, especially not as easily as that."
The Third Espada nodded in silent agreement as she strode up, her own fracción and Nel's glancing in between each other before giving their own nods.
Figures.
Nel picked up the piece, handing it to him gingerly. "As much as I may not like it, I suppose there's only one thing to do now."
O--O--O
"Keep staring like that, and I might start to get the wrong idea. Unless that's what you're going for."
Ichigo started uncomfortably at the casual statement, forcing himself to look around the odd building he had followed the recently demoted Szayelaporro to.
He had rather hesitantly approached the strange individual's domain in the hopes of finding out how to fix his zanpakuto, only to be greeted by an incredibly impatient scowl and an outstretched hand from the pink-haired scientist.
After handing over the fragments he had managed to gather, Szayelaporro had promptly tossed the tinier pieces out a nearby window, inspected the larger broken half of the blade with a critical eye, and strode away without a word. Now, in some tiny room deep in the Espada's quarters, the two remaining halves sat inside some sort of machine, beeps occasionally emanating from its interface.
"So, uh…" Ichigo began after realizing there wasn't really anything else to look at in the barren room, "How did you know I was coming?"
Szayelaporro finally deigned to turn away from the console, raising one thin brow. "How would I not? My surveillance outside of Las Noches has been complete for some time now. As you would know, had you returned soon after your ascension as I requested."
"You did?" He asked warily, deciding not to ask too many questions about this 'surveillance'.
"Yes!" The other man snapped, light glinting off of his spectacles dangerously. "I sent a message to Nelliel the day you returned!"
"Yeah, and I'm saying I never got it!" Ichigo snapped right back.
The Eighth Espada paused.
"Hmph. Regardless, you are here now."
"Right. So, what do you think?"
Szayelaporro turned back to the console, previous ire completely forgotten, tapping away for several moments before speaking slowly. "It seems that Tier Harribel was correct, your zanpakuto is very similar to a Shinigami's asauchi at the moment."
Holy shit.
Hiding his surprise at both that information and the fact that Szayelaporro apparently heard the entire conversation so far out, Ichigo folded his arms and stared at his weapon. "So what do we do to fix it?"
"I, personally, will do nothing."
The man stood, removing both pieces of the sword and – again – looked impatiently at the sheath on his back. Ichigo shrugged the strap off and watched as the Espada fit both halves in, the guard clicking softly as it slid home.
"Like a Soul Reaper's zanpakuto, it will heal on its own with time and exposure to your spiritual pressure," he said matter-of-factly, once again taking a seat. "Though of course that would happen with any zanpakuto, regardless of species."
Ichigo frowned, fitting the belt back across his torso. "Then why don't I know it's name like every other Arrancar?"
"Come now, I had thought you were more intelligent than that."
He growled, annoyed. "Something about the fact that I'm not just a Hollow, right?"
"Of course," the Arrancar replied thinly. "I have just confirmed that your zanpakuto has its own spirit within, unlike most Arrancar where it is simply another part of their being. You will need to discover the name on your own, I expect. As for your Hollow self…"
Szayelaporro narrowed his eyes at this. "I suspect there is another reason that part of you is absent. Tell me, Ichigo Kurosaki," the man sneered, and with a start Ichigo wondered how much of his typically pleasant demeanor was a façade.
"Who are you really?"
O--O--O
Nel screwed up her face in concentration as she gripped both hands together, arms straining towards the sky above as she stretched. Letting out a breath she released the grip, rolling her shoulders.
Everyone except Ichigo was still out in the desert surrounding Las Noches; she and Harribel had a rather interesting time organizing different training methods for their fracción to spar against each other, to pleasantly rewarding results. She smiled, thinking of how easily Pesche and Dondochakka had defeated Harribel's three followers only minutes before.
She glanced over to see the one called Apacci still scowling as all five milled together in a close group, apparently examining each other's zanpakuto – Dondochakka's own gigantic club was still by far the most unusual, though the needle-like sai that Sung-Sun had pulled out of one of her voluminous sleeves was certainly interesting.
She was distracted from her thoughts as she sensed a large spike of energy from the direction of Las Noches. After a moment the source shot out from Las Noches at an unbelievable pace, rocketing out into the wastes where it vanished soon after.
She noticed her own fracción glancing in that direction, as well as Harribel and Sung-Sun, all with an unspoken question.
They had all recognized that signature.
O--O--O
--Soul Society, the Seireitei--
With the miraculous return of Lieutenant Kuchiki, the Thirteen Court Guard squads had received the information it had been sorely lacking previously; the all-too imminent threat of war, and with powers previously unknown, no less.
Since the day after becoming aware of these mask-less Hollows, rarely known in rumor before now as 'Arrancar', the Captain Commander had issued immediate and unquestionable orders to every squad to escalate the training curve for every member available. Captain, Lieutenant, seated member, none were allowed to sit idle, and it was even rumored that Kenpachi was training under Yamamoto himself.
Most rank-and-file Soul Reapers were undergoing large scale fighting maneuvers, group tactics. Many of the higher-ups and seated members were instead either performing jinzen – sword meditation – to increase their affinity with their zanpakuto, or were practicing most hours of the day with their Shikai constantly released.
With the urgency of the orders, those close to achieving Bankai were told to train especially hard, and it was recommended for those individuals to seek advice from the Captains who were available – quite an unusual philosophy for Shinigami, as achieving that final release was no small matter, almost sacred. It had apparently taken the Captain Commander overruling Central 46's doctrines on the matter to allow such a thing in the first place; unfortunately, even with that convenience, progress was anything but reliable.
A heavy sigh and a muttered curse broke the tranquil quiet, and several others in the area glanced at the source.
Renji Abarai of the Sixth Division, legs folded together on the ground, leaned back onto his hands wearily. The elaborate array of tattoos on his forehead and torso were visible for once, the top of his Shihakusho uniform hanging around his waist. It was a rather warm day, but even then steam could clearly be seen rising off his form as he panted.
"No luck, Renji?"
The crimson-haired man started slightly, turning his head to look over at Ikkaku Madarame, seated in the same way under the shade of the surrounding forest's canopy. The bald – shaved, as the Eleventh Division's third seat always insisted – Soul Reaper also had the top half of his uniform shrugged of, his Hozukimaru in its released spear-like state resting across his knees. He had opened one red-tipped eye to look over, skimming over Renji's own zanpakuto as the shape shimmered, returning to it's standard form. "Guess not."
Renji grimaced, rising and sheathing the blade as he stretched, shoulders popping. "Zabimaru keeps saying I'm not strong enough for Bankai yet, and refuses to explain any more than that."
Ikkaku smirked. "That's simple enough, at least it should be. I've heard some zanpakuto can be real stubborn about letting their secrets out."
"Yeah…was – er, is yours the same, Ikkaku?"
The other man ignored the temporary slip, shrugging his muscular shoulders. "Nah, the only problem was that my body originally couldn't handle the power; I nearly passed out the first time Hozukimaru fully woke up. He never held back anything, for better or worse."
Renji had only seen Ikkaku's Bankai once over a decade earlier, and the memory of how it slowly grew in power over time hadn't escaped him. Once the weapon had reached its peak, the sheer weight of the reiatsu it radiated had been enough to bring him to his knees.
He dismissed the memory, knowing it wouldn't help him now. He glanced around at the quiet copse of trees they were sitting in curiously; Yumichika sat in the same meditative stance some distance away, the odd shape of the three identical shotel blades composing his zanpakuto's Shikai balanced carefully on his knees. Further away, he glimpsed who he thought was Kira of Squad Three sparring against Hinamori of Squad Five through the foliage. Another familiar form rose a short distance away and Renji waved to catch his attention. "Hey, Hisagi!"
The lieutenant of Squad Nine turned at the call as he rose with his Shikai in hand, the twin pinwheel-like weapons in his hands linked together by a long black chain affixed to the bottoms of the poles. As they watched, Hisagi reverted it back to a katana and strode over, the stylized '69' on his left cheek becoming visible through the shade as he approached. "Renji, Ikkaku. Any progress?"
Ikkaku made a noncommittal noise at that, while Renji grimaced. "Not really, my zanpakuto doesn't want to cooperate much. Apparently, I'm not strong enough."
Hisagi smiled at the annoyed tone in the last half of the statement. "Well, that's something at least."
"Hmph. What about you?"
The dark-haired Shinigami's expression darkened slightly, and he looked down at the blade he held with something approaching distaste. "It's…going, I guess."
Ikkaku opened his eyes again. "Don't tell me you're still holding back from using your Shikai?" he barked out, and Renji had to resist from making a remark about Ikkaku's own reluctance to show his true ability.
Hisagi, however, just shook his head. "Not with how things are looking. I know the upcoming battles will need me to use it, I've made peace with that."
Ikakku, slightly mollified, simply raised one angular brow in question.
"I think I'm getting close to discovering my Bankai," Hisagi admitted. "My zanpakuto doesn't seem to be hiding anything important about it."
Lucky you, Renji thought dryly.
At this point the man's expression turned distinctly uncomfortable. "Since mine is so directly focused towards killing, I can't in good conscience use it on any allies, so it's been hard to train. But even without that, Kazeshini himself seems to be looking forwards to the war."
Ikkaku laughed. "I can get behind that." The man energetically hopped to his feet, snatching up his weapon "C'mon, let's find a better spot; you don't have to worry about holding back with me, and I've been looking for a good challenge!"
Hisagi looked as if he wanted to decline, but his expression finally settled on resigned.
"You coming, Renji?"
He chuckled, gripping the sheath of Zabimaru tightly. "Count me in."
O--O--O
--Hueco Mundo--
Ichigo sped through the endless night, only barely paying attention to where he was headed. He hadn't particularly chosen a destination when he had left Las Noches far behind, and since then he hadn't even bothered to look back. All he had known was an uncontrollable urge to get away, to have time to clear his head.
And he hated it.
The uncomfortable feeling that had been hiding deep inside had finally reared it's head at the revelation that he was still missing some large part of his self. And it wasn't simply that he didn't know how to release his power; it was the implication that it was locked behind some sort of barrier that he couldn't even identify, much less overcome.
And with that, he wouldn't even be able to fight properly.
Ichigo growled, touching down at the height of a massive rise in the sand, impatient eyes sweeping around – with a jolt, he spotted something familiar.
A minute later he stood at the base of a massive stone column rising out of the sand, jutting several hundred feet into the air. After examining the area to be sure, he leapt up, alighting on the smooth flat top of the pillar.
In amazement, Ichigo stepped forwards almost reverently, staring at a group of deep scores into the rock that he instinctively knew – his own claw marks from the time of his evolution. Somehow, he had found his way back by sheer chance.
There's no sense of direction in this place, how…?
Ichigo let out a weary laugh, the lack of actual humor in it odd even to himself. Glancing around one last time, he fell back painfully onto the stone, staring up at the thin crescent of the moon hanging in the sky above.
"What the hell am I doing out here?" he asked, words ringing hollow in the deafening silence. Ichigo closed his eyes soon after.
I think…I just need…some rest…