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WARNING MASSIVE SPOILERS

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The Consequence Of War

Sado 'Chad' Yasutora was a big man. Standing nearly 6 foot 6 inches tall, he had the imposing stature of a professional wrestler. His eyes were hidden under shadows of his wavy brown hair. Large muscles rippled under his dark brown skin, an inheritance from his half Mexican origins. He perspired under the hot July sun as he carried the limp form of a battered woman out of the wreckage.

He had arrived a little bit late, but he saw the familiar sight of Rukia and Renji fighting. Aware of his comrades' abilities, he set to work helping the injured and carrying the unconscious to a safe location. Ambulance sirens could be heard in the distance. The sudden destruction of a small shopping village was sure to bring news crews to the scene. He acted as quickly as he could, not one for the spotlight. The injured were numerous and the body count would be just as high.

Nakamura Tetsuya was having a lucky day, in the eyes of a photojournalist. He happened to be near the small shopping centre when the explosions started. Racing to the scene, he was greeted by an apocalyptic landscape. Buildings lay in ruin. Bodies were everywhere. He fought his urge to retch and began snapping picture after picture. Small explosions were still heard in the background. Blasts from ruptured aerosol cans and soft drink bottles detonating completed the battleground. He stayed away at a safe distance, utilizing his telescopic lens to its fullest.

He noticed a tall man running around and captured him with his camera. His eyes were hidden but his composure reminded him of someone. He didn't seem to baulk at the bloodshed or the bodies. Methodically, as if done hundreds of times before he carried the injured, the unconscious, the frightened, out of the warzone. His demeanor was that of a soldier. He paid little attention to the myriad of noises or dangers that would have frightened a civilian into paralysis. But he was plainly dressed.

"Maybe…" he mused. Ever since he had met Tatsuki his paranoia radar was on a hair trigger. "He could be an off duty medic," he reasoned brushing his thoughts aside.

"That's the last one." Renji stated blandly as he sealed his Zanpaktou, Zabimaru.

"Bastards! I prefer them when they just came and tried to eat a soul or two " Rukia cursed. "But this… this random wholesale destruction is so… un-Hollow-like."

"What do you think?"

"Something's wrong. That last group was lead by a Gillian. What are they planning?"

"Maybe Urahara might know."

"Renji, I'll see to the wounded. You see to the soul burials," Rukia commanded.

"Hey!" Renji complained. "I'm the superior officer so I should be the one giving the orders!"

Rukia turned her phony smile at Renji. "Yes, Captain Eyebrows. What is your command Captain Eyebrows?"

At the mention of his facial features, they twitched. Renji gritted his teeth. "You, Kuchiki Rukia, go and see to the wounded. I'll go and… perform the soul burials."

Tetsuya was watching carefully as he took more and more photographs. Then all of a sudden, his camera burst into a thousand pieces. His precious negatives seem to stream out into the sun. His camera strap left red welts when it had burst and whipped itself off his neck. He knelt there, shell shocked.

Renji stood beside the man deciding what to do next. He recognized the device as a camera. His years as Soul Societies liaison officer to the real world had paid off. Although he wouldn't normally directly intervene like this, he knew Chad would not like the attention of the press. He doubted the man could see anything and anything captured on film would be nonsensical. He watched as the man turned his head this way, looking for the cause of the property destruction.

Renji thought about using a Memory Modifier but decided not to. What little the man may have seen, or photographed, wasn't worth covering up with a random piece of history. Really, they were more trouble than they're worth sometimes. On occasion they drove the victim to insanity when they couldn't make sense of, or doubted their memories. In a few incidences, the victims' family had taken them for psychological help and deep hypnosis. Soul Society had reacted by modifying everyone's memories. It was definitely not one of Renji's favourite tools. He had gotten close to the human world, even if he wouldn't admit it to himself, and sympathy to the living was shunned in Soul Society. He left to complete his task.

Tetsuya was dumbstruck. He examined his surroundings, looking for a clue as to whom or what had done this to him. He felt a mixture of fear and elation. The mystery seemed to deepen and his instincts told him he was onto a big story. One name kept coming back to him with a feeling of sadness and certainty, Tatsuki. He was sure she would know something.

"Nothing." He groaned.

No evidence, no leads and now no shots He remembered his camera imploding and the film seemed to defy the laws of physics, going against gravity and, for a split second, becoming taut as if being pulled. He puzzled over the strangeness of it all as he walked off, carrying the remains of his camera and the film. Hopefully his friends at the press could help him out.

"Uryuu, Uryuu!"

Ishida recognized the warmth of the voice. Slowly the black clouds evaporated and his vision cleared. He found himself lying on the grass beside a small stream.

"Sensei."

The sight of his master and grandfather before him, sitting peacefully on a rock made his spirit soar. He wondered where he was and how he had come to this place. "Am I dead?" he asked.

His grandfather smiled affectionately and shook his head. They sat there, staring at the flowing water and listening to its song as it played across the surface of rocks and reeds.

"Have you found what you wanted to protect?" his grandfather's voice was gentle.

Ishida felt the heat rush to his face. "Yes, Sensei."

"How do you feel about being a Quincy now?"

"I need to get stronger. Not just for me. I need to protect everyone," Ishida said with determination. "I have something I want to protect."

The old man sat there nodding sagely, drinking the words of his pupil and grandson. "Your father had something else to protect, his sense of justice was different. Do you understand now?"

"I have forgiven him, Sensei."

They sat on that bank for what seemed like an eternity, in the quiet but comforting presence of each other. "You have to go now." His grandfather broke in.

The world turned dark once more. Ishida's vision vortexed to one point. "Wait Sensei, Sensei! Sensei! Grandfather!"

"Ishida-kun! It's okay, I'm here, I'm here," Orihime's voice greeted him.

He looked around the room. Everything was blurry, but he could make out his bed, and a bedside drawer. Seats were scattered around him as if many people had come to sit in this small private room. The smell of disinfectant stung his nostrils and he started retching.

Orihime sat at the edge of Ishida's bed rubbing his back as he emptied his stomach into the bucket she held out for him. He hovered in and out of consciousness for hours after he was brought back to the hospital. She personally tended to his wounds. Few had the ability to do what she was capable of, even amongst the medically based 4th Division. His arm had been reattached perfectly but his leg had to be recreated. She had spent many hours rejecting that it had ever been disintegrated before slumping exhausted in her chair. She woke up to the faint cries of Ishida, calling for his long dead grandfather. He must've been dreaming, she decided.

"Thank you, Inoue-san," Ishida mumbled as he lay back on his bed.

"It's okay. I'm glad your fine," Orihime wiped bits of vomit from the corners of his pale lips.

"I'm fine now. I can do it myself."

"No," She commanded, putting a hand on his chest stopping him from moving. "Don't move, you're not fully healed yet."

The pain that coursed through his veins felt like lightning, taking out any protests he had. "How long have I been out?" Ishida's croaked weakly..

"Nearly 12 hours."

"Yoruichi-san…?"

"They've left this morning. You're to stay here for a week to recover. Yoruichi-san's orders," Orihime said seriously. "You'll be fine. It's mainly to be sure."

"A week!" he complained. "That's too long. I need to get back."

"No. You stay put," her tone offered no room for argument. "No one will open a gate for you anyway."

Reluctantly, he offered no more resistance. Instead he turned his gaze to her. She reached over and gently placed his glasses back on his nose, clearing his vision. He examined her intensely and wondered out loud. "Grimmjow was the one who helped you in Hueco Mundo."

She trembled slightly and averted her eyes. "Yes"

"Sorry, I overheard.." seeing her pained expression, Ishida decided not to pursue any further.

"It's okay. It's not your fault."

They sat in silence for what seemed like hours, but merely minutes later loud, footsteps interrupted their gloom. A familiar shock of orange hair burst through the door. The scowl of his face pretended to be angry but could not hide its concern. The brash voice greeted his ears.

"Yo! Ishida, finally awake!" Ichigo marched into the room. " Glad to see you didn't die."

Yoruichi circled the saucer once before finally lapping away the milk. Urahara Kisuke waited patiently while the cat finished her drink, stretched the kinks out of its back, and sat down on its hind legs beside him. In the real world Yoruichi always preferred to take on her cat form. Sitting cross legged beside the cat in the dimly lit shop Kisuke called home, the pair made a bizarre sight. They had been discussing matters like this for two days now, ever since she returned from Soul Society.

"So Captain Yamamoto offered to tell you?" he asked.

It was a topic they'd covered numerous times, but as Urahara was wont to do, they often talk about the same topic over again. In the hopes that something missed earlier on or an errant memory may provide a clue to what transpired between the two worlds.

"He offered to tell me Ichigo's secret if I agreed to return to Soul Society and reclaim my former position. He would even reinstate my house," she literally purred.

"And you told Ichigo."

"I asked him, privately of course, whether or not his secret was worth my freedom."

"And he said no," Urahara mulled over the events. "Did he say when he would tell you?"

"He only said now was not the time," Yoruichi was getting annoyed talking about this, yet again. She was tired and desperately in need of sleep. "He'll tell us. For now, we just have to trust him. You do, don't you?"

"Of course." He opened his fan across his face as he continued to piece together all the information. "That Isshin won't tell me a thing either. Although I have my theories."

"Theories?"

"Yes. But now it's too early to discuss. It's most likely wrong anyway."

Taking that as closure, Yoruichi gently lay her head down, resting on her front paws. "What do you really think of the recent attacks."

Urahara fanned himself in the deathly stillness that ensued. "The Hollows are attacking in well organized units. Led by the Gillian class or higher. There's someone behind all this."

"And?" Yoruichi knew he could deduce more than that.

"They attack only during the day. They are not for souls, but for pure destruction. News crews are all over Karakura. Someone knows about us and human sociology. They're working to limit our activity by preventing us from acting freely. We don't have the element of surprise against this foe."

"There's more," it was more a question than anything else.

"Yes. From what you told me. If Soul Society has also spotted new Arrancar and we have spotted one then the numbers are too high for natural Arrancar development. Someone is helping them create more. If they're opening gates to Soul Society, then that's a Captain class Shinigami technique."

"Traitors among the Gotei?"

"Maybe. That would explain information leaks. But there's also the possibility of someone hiding, someone strong that we don't know, within Soul Society. There's also the matter of the disappearing team that went into Hueco Mundo with Kurotsuchi Nemu."

"Yes," Yoruichi sighed. "But there's no bodies confirmed yet so they're simply missing. Although death is highly probable."

"Yes… Even our Vizard friends haven't been able to offer us any new insight into the recent events."

"They've been awfully helpful to us. Especially considering it was only by request from Ichigo. Why do you think they're on such good terms with him? It can't be simply because they're fellow Vizards," Yoruichi ruminated her thought out loud.

"One can only guess."

"Another theory?"

Urahara closed his fan revealing a large knowing smile. He began scratching Yoruichi's ear as he spoke. "Another time maybe."

They sat like this for a while longer comfortable in each others presence. Like long time friends, each to their own thoughts, yet understanding of the others silence.

Tetsuya sat on the edge of the table waiting for his colleague to return. The office of the Tokyo Times was as busy as always. People came in and out, talking to one another and discussing things in quite serious tones. Papers and photographs lie strewn everywhere, near computer screens and coffee mugs. Finally a short, professional looking woman approached Tetsuya. Her dark hair was tied neatly in a bun, her sharp, mouse-like features gave her a rather timid look.

"Kishimoto-san" Tetsuya greeted the woman.

Despite what her looks may say, Kishimoto Reika was not timid. You didn't get anywhere in the press world by being timid. "Tetsuya. Here's your coffee."

Tetsuya gratefully accepted his drink and stirred absent mindedly. "So, did the lab boys find anything from the camera I gave you?"

"It's only been two days," she smiled.

Tetsuya recognized that look. "You found something."

"Me? Find something? I don't recall saying that?"

"Come on. We're friends. You can tell me?" Tetsuya begged.

"Uh uh, You're supposed to be a sports photojournalist." she wagged her finger. "You're intruding on my space. Why should I help you."

"It's no big deal. Just curiosity. I just wanted to know that's all," Tetsuya lied.

She leaned over, eyes narrowing, gleaming with hidden intelligence. "You're onto something big aren't you, Tetsuya?"

"Me? Onto something? I don't recall saying that?"

"Fine then," she sat back on her chair, chewing on a pen. "Nope the lab boys didn't find a thing."

Tetsuya leaned in, keeping his voice low and even, "Reika, what do you want?"

"452 deaths so far, over 6000 injured, 2518 of which are incurable, all within the space of 3 months. No witnesses, no leads and all in the same town. This is big news Tetsuya," she closed the gap between them, glaring at him from just inches away. "I want in."

"What makes you think I know anything?"

"You're a smart guy. Always have been. I know that, so when you start calling in favours all round, like Mikoto from photo labs…"

"You… you got my negatives, don't you?" Tetsuya almost burned at his ears.

"So what do you say, Tetsuya?" she asked slyly.

He surrendered with a slump of his shoulders. He rarely ever won any arguments with her. "What's the deal, Reika?"

"50/50. You get credits for the shots, I get credits for the scoop. We'll release it as a joint expose."

"We share all information, " he added.

"Done. " The deal was sealed with a tentative hand shake

"What have you got?"

She spun around to her computer. He posture becoming rigid and all business again. Clicking with her mouse, she brought up a series of enlarged grainy images. "These shots were salvaged. They're super enhanced and touched up but we can still make out bits and pieces. Not much to go by really," she flicked through a couple of photos and bits of picture before resting on one. "Who's the giant?"

"Don't know. He was helping the injured when I got there. Can you make out his face?"

"No this is as good as it gets. Had the photolab work overtime for this. Is he important?"

"I don't know, "he thought for a bit before divulging more details. "Looked half caste. Giant six and half to seven foot. Pink floral shirt. Maybe medical, more likely ex-military. Blood didn't phase him one bit, nor gore."

"Giant, gay, halfy in Karakura. Shouldn't be too hard to track down," she smirked. "This is the interesting bit."

She tapped her keyboard again and a giant fingerprint came up on screen.

"A perfect thumbprint," Tetsuya was impressed. "Whose is it?"

"I ran this through police and military records. No match. He either doesn't exist or has never been in trouble with police before and definitely not military, but it gets even better."

"It does?" Tetsuya was astounded by what he'd stumbled upon.

Clicking again with the mouse, another image of a thumb came up. It was enlarged and seemed to be a piece from the top of his camera. "Notice the similarity in the thumb shape." She waited for Tetsuya to agree before continuing. "There're no swirls in such a defined outline on the camera piece. As you know you need oils to produce finger prints and your skin naturally produces them. The camera surfaces were perfect for prints but this guy here who attacked you doesn't secrete any. He's only left an impression of his thumb on your camera and the inside of his fingers on the bottom, but no prints. He shouldn't be too hard to find once we can access medical records for this condition."

"Is there such a condition?" Tetsuya asked.

"I don't know but we'll find out soon enough. Anyway if the film didn't have that oily surface we would never have gotten a print," she was enjoying every second of her presentation. "Furthermore, who ever did this, crushed your camera single handed, so I'd say he's very strong, probably large too. I'm waiting for a couple of forensics contacts of mine to get back to me with the data. Finally, the most scary thing is, your strap wasn't ripped or torn off you, it was cut. Clean cut by something very sharp. One sided entry, so I'd say a knife was very near your throat that day, not scissors."

Tetsuya gulped at the thought of a knife so close to his jugular. "Anything else?"

"No. That's all I could get for now. So tell me, what happened there exactly?"

"I don't know. One moment I'm taking shots, next my camera imploded. Then my film started streaming out by itself to the last frame. If what you say is true, I was attacked. But I looked around and there's no one there. Never was."

She looked surprised and stared at him suspiciously. "You're not hiding anything are you?"

"No. It's the truth."

"So you were attacked by someone invisible." She started to regret telling him so much.

"Seems like it. But it fits my other photos I have at home and what I've seen."

"Other photos? More evidence?" her enthusiasm returned. "When can I see them? What else did you see?"

"Tomorrow night you can come to my apartment. I'll tell you the rest then or else it won't make sense."

Satisfied she took a sip of her lukewarm coffee. "Why not tonight?" she asked.

"I can't. Going over to Tatsuki's place. She just got back not long ago." He replied.

"How is your little girlfriend?" She teased.

He grimaced guiltily. She noticed but decided against asking. "She's fine."

Ulquiorra sat blankly at the small table. His piping hot tea snaking tendrils of steam into the air before him. Grimmjow sat at an adjacent table. His feet on the table top as he rocked back and forth on his chair. Ulquiorra sipped his tea patiently biding his time. His deep green eyes set in his pale skin avoided contact with Grimmjow. His perfectly human features marred only by the hole in his throat and large horned helmet-like skull over one side of his head. He was a Vasto Lorde Arrancar, perfectly created by the hands of Aizen Sosuke, the most powerful of his kind. He was in command now, of the myriad of new Arrancars now being created.

"What!" Grimmjow's patience waned. "I know ya got something to say!"

Ulquiorra put his teacup down. His face, an unreadable mask. The tear like markings on his face gave him the macabre sexiness of the undead. He sat emotionless waiting for something unknown.

"Look ya shit! I haven't got all fucking day! Spill it!" Grimmjow cursed.

Ulquiorra sipped his tea again. Riled and cantankerous Grimmjow pushed his chair away, ready to leave.

"You met a Quincy."

"Yeah! So?" Grimmjow turned back.

"You failed to kill him."

His pride hurt. Grimmjow retorted violently. "I didn't fail. I just didn't want to kill him."

"You showed him mercy?" Ulquiorra's lips barely moved. "Inoue Orihime was there."

"I didn't show mercy. She got in the way."

"She has become powerful enough to stop you?"

Grimmjow grounded his teeth, seething at his implication. Ulquiorra knew better than anyone else what the battle strengths of the enemy were. His Pesquisa (1) was the best among the Arrancar.

"I can have her removed from the battle."

"Touch her and I'll rip yer head off!" threatened Grimmjow.

"You misunderstand. I do not mean by harming her."

"Look, we have a deal. I help you, ya help yer crappy lord and I get the girl."

"What do you want with the girl?"

"None of ya damned business," Grimmjow finally stood up, his patience depleted. "If there's nuthin' else I'm leavin'."

Ulquiorra examined his comrade for a while, curious as to his unusual behaviour. He betrayed them once and had become a fugitive, hunted by both sides. But now he needed his strength. With Aizen's death, he had put all that aside to once again call this man an ally. He reached into his eye socket, pulling out one of his eyes and crushed it. The eyeball became fine sand and slowly images started forming within its misty swirls. A grey desert became visible. Vast undulating dunes filled the land, dotted by an occasional ruin. Then the image focused on a small group, their black uniforms clearly visible.

"They're nearing us and may soon discover our headquarters. My lord has ordered you to intercept them at once. You will be assigned three Arrancar of your choosing."

Grimmjow smiled. At least this was a task he understood, and relished.

End Chapter 11

(1) Pesquisa – Arrancar technique for sensing reiatsu.

A/N: Thank you again to my editor Shanon. Great job. And thank you for all my readers who have been persevering with this story! I love you all! Thanks again to all those who wrote reviews! I read them all and they inspire me to write more! I've been getting busy lately with work guys but please bear with me on this and my other fic 'Bleaching Hogwarts' I'll be updating them soon.