The future is but a question mark
Hangs above my head, there in the dark

Sting: 'Bring on the Night'

A black sky wheeled above his head, silver stars swinging into a dizzying jumble of pallid streaks as the range of his vision shifted. In and out, focus came and went. Like the throbbing pain that left his chest trembling, and the dead sobs that lay buried there, everything seemed both still and struck with motion. Had he the stomach to wretch with, he surely would have. But there was nothing, just as much as there was everything. The pain was numb, the dizziness was calming, and the slow breath of the white desert rested around him like a dead weight.

He still hated Hueco Mundo, with every fiber of his questionable being. He'd had too many memories buried there, too many promises brought to death on those white dunes. Too much blood stained on that ever undulating mass of white sand to ever forgive its belying calmness.

He let out a slow breath, watching the silver clouds crush out the light of the moon as a rippling wind began to pick up. He closed his eyes, wishing that his dream would finally come to an end. He'd been lying there atop the crest of a white-tipped ridge for what felt like hours. He couldn't will himself to move; there was no incentive. He had no reason to go traipsing around the damnable desert, and no reason to think that he needed to. So he'd sat there, letting the white grains blow around him into drifts, slowly forming an encroaching tomb of pale little death.

God how he hated Hueco Mundo.

For a long time the only sound that greeted his ears was the slow hiss of moving sand around his head. The wind was even silent; only the movement it caused seemed to make noise. Probably because there was little in Hueco Mundo to disturb, save for the sand. Yes, in places there were cliffs and crags, dead forests and glens as bare as the bones they mimicked, but not here. Not in the deep deep desert where even the eye of Aizen had to strain to see. Out in the no-man's land, he waited.

Only when a faint howl of agony greeted his thirsty ears was he startled. He'd been so focused on listening, watching, trying to find something to explain why he was there. And when it came to him, it seemed almost like too much of a convenient answer to be real. But he sat up regardless, his ears tuned away from the sand as it fell from his body like droplets of silver water. For as long a time he sat unanswered, and only when he had just begun to resign hope, a slightly louder howl greeted his waiting ears.

It was a horrible noise. A wet, rippling gurgle of primal agony that sounded over the dunes like a horn over a deep. But this noise only elicited one emotion from those whose ears lay listening, and it was a chilling twist of pity and remorse for whatever poor soul had made it.

After it sounded yet again, louder only vaguely as the source drew closer did he actually stand to his unsteady feet. He waited with aching senses, feeling the instincts rooted deep in the narrow places of his bones set into motion his unwitting feet. He was scrambling down the monstrous dunes, half buried and struggling as he tried to root himself out of the avalanche he'd caused. He needed to help, whatever it was that was in such great pain. That noise sang to the tune that every life he'd ever valued did; know me, love me, protect me. The sound bridged the three simple steps that led to his heart's very strings, and plucked at them with a strange harshness.

Before he knew it his once sluggishly plodding form had polished itself into a streaking run. His legs pumped hard over the churning sand as the wind kicked up, bringing whirlwinds of sand to bite against his face. He relinquished his care, realizing that for whatever reason, the horrible howl that echoed over the dunes reminded him of his previous dream. And though it heralded no relation to the other horrid noise he'd heard bellowed out over the dreamscape of Toshiro's inner world, it did carry with it that same importance of recognition. Of merely knowing what was there and what he needed to see was all purpose intended, and that was more than enough for him.

As he slowly churned his way towards the crest of the highest dune in his sight, he paused. He had heard not the loud bellow in quite some time, and had merely been following after where he had thought had been the direction from which it had been coming. He looked around, craning to find some sort of marker amongst the identical waves of white to tell him where he needed to go. And only when he saw some of the sand move over the crest of a dune not far away did he again begin to trek. It wasn't even true movement; just sand kicked up into the air by what he assumed to be movement. But the gust of sand seemed so great that it was almost impossible for it not to have been caused by some manner of movement.

All but clawing at the pale grains of the ridge he was trying to crest, when at last he reached the top, he couldn't help but look down in confusion. He had been correct in his observation, that the amount of sand displaced had been caused by some moving force. And the impressions left in the sand of the opposite side of the dune certainly portrayed that. But for all that seemed to have been there, there was little more than a small white and red and black mass lying at the bottom of the depression.

And, had it not been for the repeated bellow of agony, now ringing painfully loud in his ears, he would have been sure that he had been mistaken. But so loud was the outcry that he had to cover his ears, feeling that he was standing next to the very mouth of whatever had made that noise. Through squinted eyes that struggled to focus over the noise, he looked back down at the small mass, recognizing with a start the shady symbol on what he realized to be the back of a very bloodied haori.

The vague 10 symbol glared back at him through his blurred vision, and he stumbled forward in an attempt to get closer, realizing that, somehow, he'd found Toshiro. But as the deafening sound died away, and he drew slowly nearer, he realized that, though it may have been Toshiro, it was not all of Toshiro. If anything, as his vision cleared he realized that, though the now obvious image of the small captain was complete, it seemed to be anything but solid. Rather the small captain seemed to be made of a wavering haze, edges blurring in and out of focus regardless of Ichigo's ability to see.

He knelt down next to the small captain, making to reach out to him even as the poor suffering soul made to try and push himself up off the sands, which were slowly being dyed red beneath him. But his hands touched nothing, and he realized with a bite to his own tongue that this was but a dream. He watched in painful objectiveness as the young man struggled to even push his own shaking shoulders off the ground, his entire body marred with gaping wounds. His mouth opened in outcry, and Ichigo watches as his lips, split by some previous blow, formed into the silent words, "Help me." But the only sound that met his ears was that same, deafening, agonized roar.

He covered his ears again, doubling over as the sheer volume overwhelmed him. But as he stared down at the reddening sand, the familiar rippling in his vision began to claw at what he could see. His head whipped up, realizing that this dream too was quickly falling out of his grasp. Again he cursed himself, for wanting the dream to end and then just as suddenly wishing it wouldn't. He reached out again to the shady visage of the small captain, crying out the panicked phrase, "No!" again and again to whatever audience controlled his sleeping mind. But they gave him no favor, and tore the dream from him even as he continued to cry out in frustration and in fear, the foggy countenance of the captain still numb to his touch.

When he finally awoke, it was to a pair of strong hands shaking his shoulders. He flinched away, panicking momentarily as the loud denial "No!" escaped his lips one last pleading time. His auburn eyes looked around, realizing that he was exactly where he'd left himself; sleeping against the wall in what was now Toshiro's… or rather, Hyorinmaru's private room deep in the 4th Division Hospital.

Looking back to see who had woken him, he was unsurprised to find Captain Kyoraku crouched before him, the other man's large hands still planted firmly, reassuringly on his shoulders. He settled himself, but his breath remained short in his chest as his heart continued to thunder and clench. Once the drunkard captain seemed assured that Ichigo wasn't going to draw his sword to anyone's throat anytime soon, he removed his hands, standing slowly so as not to startle him.

Ichigo's eyes strayed to where Toshiro's body lay as he also stood. But he stood more slowly, a hand against the wall to steady himself. These nightmares were taking a toll on him, both mentally and physically. And the last thing he wanted was for Captain Unohana to deem him unfit for battle. Heaven knew he was the one who was going to go out there and find Toshiro, now that he'd been the one subjected to the tormenting dreams. And even if he wasn't functioning normally, that still wasn't going to stop him from trying to save his companion. Not even if Captain Unohana's wrath stood in his way, and that was truly a frightening concept indeed.

"You going to be alright there, son?" he heard the 8th Division Captain ask, but chose not to respond right away. He wanted to get his voice back first, for he realized that it was somewhere down in his feet, mingling with his cold toes in its hesitance to function.

"I really need to go find Toshiro," he said. "And I can't wait any longer for someone to figure this out." He looked at the other captain, knowing that his serious look would dispel any concerns regarding his sanity. "Or else there won't be anything left to salvage when we do find him."

Despite sensing the teen's seriousness, the older man merely shook his head. "I agree with you on that, but you have to realize Ichigo that plundering around blindly in the dark sooner will do little more for you had you waited. Besides, Soul Society is just starting to wake up. Before you know it the best and brightest minds will be right by your side, helping you reach your goal." The man tipped his straw hat to him as he made to leave with a dramatic whirl of his pink cloak. "You just have to be patient with them."

Ichigo sighed, knowing that even though the captain had a point, that the time bomb that was Toshiro's situation didn't have even milliseconds to waste on being patient. But as he thought, a vague question came to mind, and just before the Squad 8 Captain had the chance to fully escape, the substitute voiced his concerns.

"Speaking of best and brightest, why were you the one that came last night, Captain Kyoraku? Why not Ukitake? From what I've heard he seems to be the one with the biggest soft spot for Toshiro," he said, noting how the older man slowed in his retreat towards the door. Apparently, he had been expecting some question of the like to be brought up at some point. He was not to be disappointed.

"Believe it or not, the majority of us have a soft spot for our little captain," the flowery man responded quietly. He sounded as if he were spilling one of the Soul Society's darkest secrets… and perhaps he was. "But you're right." Two sets of brown eyes locked. "Juushiro does have the biggest soft spot for him. But he also has the greatest respect for him, in spite of what Captain Hitsugaya may feel at times. That's why Juushiro is taking care of Squad 10 right now, and taking the time to console his Lieutenant."

That at least seemed to make sense, even in Ichigo's mind. He knew that Ukitake, in spite of his normally grandfatherly behavior, held deep emotions for the people he cared for. And if he respected Toshiro as much as Kyoraku said he did, then Ukitake would have gladly stepped up to keep the small captain's division afloat while their captain lay incapacitated.

"That still doesn't explain why you came." Ichigo wasn't going to let the older man get off that easily. Anything and everything relating to Toshiro's well being mattered at this point, and in spite of trusting the man's intentions, he had to make sure that they were what he thought they were. "You said that the majority of "us" have a soft spot for Toshiro. Does that "us" include you?"

The older man's smile was almost sad. "Indeed it does." The answer did not come as a surprise. "Even though I may not have the affection for him that Ukitake has, he and I do certainly share in our respect for him." The older man's typically playful eyes turned hard. "Captain Hitsugaya portrays all the traits that a good captain should have. Patience, ethics, diligence, and above all, he's willing to accept when he's made mistakes, and is willing to suffer the consequences of them graciously, and with humility. He's more of an adult than some of the other captains ever will be, especially that bastard Kurotsuchi."

Ichigo blinked in surprise at the strength of the man's words. He'd never thought that the carefree captain could feel such apparent abhorrence towards another captain. Not that Ichigo could blame him, really. Kurotsuchi was twelve different flavors of bastard, with bastard filling in a bastard cone with bastard sprinkles on top. But the last person he expected to hear that from was from Captain Kyoraku, who was often too lazy to say anything bad about anyone.

"That's why I'm here," the 8th Squad Captain continued, drawing Ichigo out of his thoughts. "Because I am wholeheartedly for preserving one of the few young men out there that's decent enough to be worth fighting for. And you'll find, Ichigo, that even those of us you least expect it from will say the same."

With that, the older captain did depart, taking the time to close the door gently behind him. Ichigo supposed that he was probably out to rally the rest of the necessary troops, as he probably should have been. But he was drawn like magnet back to Toshiro's bedside, where he sat down, a shaky hand fisting the white sheets beneath his fingers.

"I wish you could have heard that, Toshiro." He spoke down to the sleeping body like he expected it to answer. Even though, by the looks of it, neither Hyorinmaru nor Toshiro were going to answer anytime soon.

Sometime during the night Captain Unohana must have come in to check on Toshiro's body's status and found it worsened, for there were wires and tubes poking in and out of places that Ichigo could have sworn were unhindered the day before. Even the young captain's fevered face was half covered by an oxygen mask of some sort, and he watched in a half trance as the condensation of the boy's fevered breath washed on and off the plastic.

But probably most disconcerting of all was the fact that, for some reason, Captain Unohana had opted to cover over the young man's eyes. It was probably nothing more than a wet washcloth at first, meant to comfort an ailing fever. But it unnerved Ichigo, probably more than it should have. It felt as if that by covering up those eyes, which had changed shades so drastically of late, they were all of them accepting whatever Toshiro's misguided fate was. And that was one pill the substitute refused to swallow.

Reaching up with careful fingers, he pried the now dry cloth off, setting it down on the small table next to the bed. Toshiro's pale eyebrows were tense, even in sleep, but even his struggling expression was far better than no expression at all. Ichigo would gladly suffer through the sight of him fighting than try to deal with the idea of him having given up.

Which, he realized with a pained smile, he knew Toshiro would never do.

When Captain Unohana relayed the message to him that he was to attend the Captains' and Lieutenants' meeting later that morning, he wasn't entirely sure how to feel. Sure, physically he felt awful because every bone in his body was nigh close to breaking under the pressure he was putting on them NOT to go out look for the snowy captain. Oh, and sleep had been lax too, but that was less important. Mentally he was probably at the point of willingly making mountains out of molehills, or at least punching someone in the face for a bad vibe. His hands were getting jittery just thinking about it. Emotionally, he was distraught at the idea of there not being someone of at least a Captain's level within spit's throw distance of Toshiro, so that was moot. So, in grand summary, he was ten levels beyond "no" by the time she even finished asking.

But one glance and a comment from the 4th Squad Captain later, he was trailing after her heels like a kicked puppy.

He followed her without a word for the rest of the way, not caring to look up from the floor as he buried himself in the grave of his thoughts. He knew that a lot of people had probably tried to acknowledge him, and that he'd probably confused or hurt more than one by ignoring them completely. But there was too much going on, too much to think about and to act on for him to worry about it all too much.

Hell, if he thought about it, a captain lay dying in the 4th, and he had the choice to be worried about that, or waving hello to a soul reaper he didn't know. The choice's best option was almost so obvious that he was tempted to hit himself.

Fortunately he didn't have time to, as they had arrived at the Captain Commander's grandeur meeting hall in less time than he'd expected or realized. The closer they got to the doors, the more soul reapers seemed to be gathered, he noted. And not just the captains and lieutenants; seated and unseated officers alike were gathered outside the hall, all looking confused, expectant, and strangely apprehensive. Ichigo didn't know hardly any of their faces, nor could he place any of their names save for those he had encountered frequently and exclusively.

But he realized with a start that, because they were particularly clustered around the recognizable forms of Matsumoto Rangiku and Juushiro Ukitake, they were more than likely the poor misguided souls of Toshiro's abandoned division. Instantly, his expression softened and his heart sank. He couldn't imagine what they must have been going through… they left for home at the end of the day yesterday with their captain seeming to be as he always had been. All had been right with the world as far as they were aware. But when they came back in the morning, they were met with only an empty desk and vague, if present at all, explanations as to why their captain lay incapacitated and unavailable by any means in the depths of the 4th Division.

Taking time to avoid eye contact with most everyone, he made his way into the hall on the coat tails of Captain Unohana, trying to hide himself from the questioning looks cast at him by the division members. He couldn't bear having to tell them the truth of what he'd seen. He could deal with two or three people he knew could be trusted, knew would be able to handle it. But he didn't know any of the members of Toshiro's division other than Rangiku, and highly doubted that they would take well the news that their beloved captain was dying. And especially not the idea that none of them were strong or powerful enough to do anything about it, considering how much loyalty ran in the squads in relation to their captains.

And, to be quite honest with himself, he was still an outsider. He may have won their trust through many trials, but he knew that many of the Soul Reapers still viewed him with mixed opinions. And even though he wanted to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, he couldn't predict where the feather would fall under such strained circumstances. So as he watched the men and women slowly filter in from outside and into the inner chamber, he tried to keep his calm façade strong. The fact that he was there may have mattered and it may not have; he couldn't be sure just yet, not knowing what news had been spread and what hadn't. And for once in a very long time, the Ichigo Kurosaki chose to keep his loud mouth shut until he knew it was safe.

When Yamamoto's bellowing voice echoed through the large chamber, all of the idle chatter died away into attentive silence. The two lines of men and women stood waiting in front of all the rest. The captains all wore expressionless faces before the underlings of the 10th Squad, and Ichigo wondered if there was any reason as to why. But as all eyes locked on the Captain Commander, he decided to wait and see. In spite of the man's rank, however, Ichigo had never liked him. He may have been a strong warrior, and a good leader at times, but the man jumped to far too many conclusions for his particular liking. And a deep dread was pitted in his stomach at the thought of him jumping to conclusions yet again, just as he had done during the incident with Kusaka.

The memory of hearing Toshiro's execution order still sent shivers down his spine.

"It has come to our attention that Squad 10 Captain Hitsugaya has fallen ill," the elderly man started, his booming voice loud enough to make Ichigo flinch. Really, did the man need to talk that loud? It wasn't like they weren't going to hear him. But what made Ichigo's brows knit together was the seemingly… calm, visage that the Head Captain seemed to be harboring. It made Ichigo wonder just what had been going on in the wee hours of the night, and what misconceptions had been birthed in the wake of his arrival. "During the time he is under the care of 4th Division Captain Unohana, it has been determined that he is to be quarantined for the safety of the rest of the Soul Society. Until his condition has been contained and stabilized, Squad 10 will be lead by Lieutenant Rangiku, with assistance and supervision from Squad 13 Captain Ukitake."

A hushed uproar spread across the room. No one was particularly perturbed by the idea of being lead by their Lieutenant or Captain Ukitake, but it seemed that everyone, including a few of the captains based on the stories in their eyes, was dissatisfied with the explanation the Head Captain had provided. Ichigo didn't blame them; if he was in their position he'd be bitching up a storm right about now. But as he stood from his knowledgeable standpoint, he understood where the Head Captain was going with his charade. If everyone and their dog knew about Toshiro's condition, it would cause immediate mass hysteria throughout the entire Soul Society. And after such damaging blows from Aizen, and another one potentially at hand, they couldn't afford to have everyone losing their heads.

So as much as he hated the fact that the Head Captain saw it fit to flat-faced lie to everyone, he did, albeit grudgingly, understand why. And, if it meant being able to protect Toshiro just that little bit more, he supposed he could deal with it.

When he heard the old man's cane snap hard against the floor, he returned his attention. As did everyone else, he noted, the sudden silence draping itself over the room once more. He could see out of the corners of his eyes the displeased frowns of the lower ranking division members, present in spite of their silence. He supposed then that the age-old idiom was wrong, that silence was equivalent to consent. If anything, it was strongly disproven by the rippling tension in the air, and it had nothing to do with mal-controlled spiritual pressure.

"Until such a time you are to return to your squads and carry on with all duties as indicated. All of you will be kept informed on important changes in Captain Hitsugaya's condition, and I can assure you that he will be returned to his post as soon as his condition has been remedied. All of you are thus dismissed. It is asked, however, that the Captains and Lieutenants remain behind." With that the vast majority of the assembled crowd began to trickle out of the large room. And from what Ichigo could tell, some of them had been comforted by what the old man had promised. They were all of them under the assumption that the "important changes" in Toshiro's condition would be real, just like the "illness" that he was suffering under. Ichigo's jaw clenched. The old buzzard might as well have been lying to lost children, and promising more lies as a vague attempt at comfort.

When all the lower ranking officers had left, save for Ichigo, because he assumed that it was kind of pertinent for him to be there, the grandiose doors closed once more. The resounding thud echoed loudly through the silenced room.

For a long time no one spoke, and Ichigo noticed vaguely that instead of the assumed number of four missing captains, that there were only three empty spaces in the lineup, not including the twelve lieutenants who stood behind their captains, or the spaces where their captains should have been. There was one space that was filled only by one person, and Ichigo realized that the man standing where a captain should have been wore no haori. Thus, he was not a captain, and could be assumed a lieutenant. But he stood naturally, his shoulders set and his head held high, obviously indicating the fact that he was where he was supposed to be.

Apparently having sensed his confusion, Lieutenant Isane, who had taken up stance beside him when they'd come in to stand behind her captain, leaned down and whispered in his ear. "The man over there is Hisagi Shuuhei, Acting Captain of Squad 9. He's the only one out of the three abandoned lieutenants that's been able to keep it together well enough to assume his captain's place. Most of his squad members agree that he's a better captain than Tousen was anyway." With that she straightened back up, glancing apologetically at her captain as the older woman glanced over her shoulder at the two of them. Unohana wasn't angry, just curious from what Ichigo could tell. But, then again, it was often hard to tell with that captain in particular, so he decided to not elaborate on his cause.

But the fact remained that, even though he knew Shuuhei only vaguely through help of Renji, he couldn't help but automatically agree.

"Now," the Head Captain began again, finally drawing everyone out of their pregnant silences, "as some of you may not be aware of the current situation, let me elaborate a bit more clearly on this matter. It is true that Captain Hitsugaya is incapacitated at the moment, and for causes that for now remain unknown."

'Aizen would be one,' Ichigo thought to himself with a scowl.

"His condition was discovered late last night when the Substitute Soul Reaper, Ichigo Kurosaki, made an unannounced visit to Captain Hitsugaya's office. It has been explained that his entire reason for coming so early in the morning was because of a vision he had regarding Captain Hitsugaya's health. It appears that his assumption was proven correct, as it was shortly after determined by Captain Unohana that Captain Hitsugaya's condition was far beyond normal."

'That's because his soul has been ripped out of his body.'

"With that having been established, Captain Unohana has begun to investigate exactly why Captain Hitsugaya's condition is what it is, and how to remedy it. Captain Kyoraku, along with the help of Captain Ukitake, has been gathering information to try and determine when exactly Captain Hitsugaya's condition changed so that we may properly gauge his condition's development."

'Degradation would be a better word. Have you seen him lately?'

"Until such a time that the rest of your services are needed, you are all thus dismissed. Please take into consideration that any and all information that may be related to this subject may be of grave importance. If you know of anything, and instance or an observation, that may relate to this, please inform myself or Captain Unohana of it immediately. Now, return to your squads."

"Well at least… wait, what?' Ichigo's jaw just about hit the floor. The old man was just going to leave it like that? He was going to let Toshiro rot away on his deathbed while they went rooting around for "evidence"? This had to be some kind of horrible, horrible joke!

"What the hell do you mean?" he blurted out, just as the Captains and Lieutenants were about to disperse. They all stopped, most of them mid-stride to stare at him. The Captains were less surprised, but most of the Lieutenants seemed flabbergasted. He didn't care. This mattered. "You can't tell me that you're just going to piss around dusting doorways until you find something! If you want to know what the hell happened to Toshiro, we had damn well better go out and find the part of his soul that's missing like I told you!"

Where he had expected awed silence, there was suddenly a hushed commotion. The Captains were all looking at each other, confused and on the verge of irritation. The Lieutenants looked blown away, looking to each other for help to explain what the berry had just said.

"Head Captain," the chilling slimy voice of the Captain of Squad 12 slithered out amongst the commotion, "what does this little heathen mean?"

Ichigo whirled on the man, his face taut with rage. "Fuck you, Mayuri, you're evil anyway. And this "little heathen" means that he woke up at ungodly hours in the morning because he saw one of your colleague's inner worlds burning. And surprise, surprise, guess what I find when I get here? That said captain's body is being inhabited by Hyorinmaru, and that his soul is somehow magically gone, and that something else is ravaging his inner world while Hyorinmaru isn't there." Wrenching his gaze from the deformed captain to the Head Captain himself, Ichigo continued, his scowl deepening. "So don't you dare tell me that three Captains snooping around his office for the next few weeks is going to save the part of him that's dying in Hueco Mundo as we speak."

It was then that the hushed silence fell over the room.

"Head Captain, is this true?" Ichigo turned to face the speaker, finding that the Captain of the 7th Division had been the one that had spoken. Ichigo didn't see the bestial captain very much, but had been told by many that his fearsome appearance belied his good-natured heart. More than anything, every time he caught sight of the tell-tale captain, he really just wanted to conjure up a milk bone and humor himself. But he didn't, mostly because he didn't want to carry around milk bones with him every time he went to the Soul Society, and he didn't want to insult the captain. But he was apprehensive, regardless of the rumors. He had heard just as frequently that Captain Komamura was devoutly devoted to Yamamoto, and that sometimes it almost came to a fault. If that held true, Ichigo could be stuck in deep mud.

"It has not yet been determined whether or not the Substitute Soul Reaper's report is factual," the old man answered after a drawn out moment of silence. Ichigo's scowl twisted with indignation, that quiet dread in his heart thundering through it now. After all he'd done for them, this was what he got? This doubt, this childish regard for his warnings, it was going to lead to a dead Captain before any of them could do anything about it. But when the older Soul Reaper continued, Ichigo's rage paused. "But it does appear that someone has purposefully tampered with the balance of Captain Hitsugaya's soul, and that he is very much in danger of being destroyed by the process."

Ichigo felt his face pale at the older man's choice of words. Destroyed? That was a new revelation, even to him. He knew that Toshiro was on the verge of dying, but being destroyed was something altogether different. It was then that he remembered what Captain Kyoraku had said the previous night; "-whoever did this is trying to find a way to permanently remove souls from the cycle of rebirth." Was that what Toshiro's fate added up to? Complete and utter annihilation? For some reason when the drunkard Captain had said it the night before, it hadn't seemed nearly so…

Final.

Still choking on the embodiment of his own fears, he barely noticed how the rest of the meeting hall had burst into raucous yelling. It may as well have been silent to his ears, save for that one word. Destroyed. He'd being trying so hard not to admit that that was what all of his night terrors added up to. He'd been trying so hard to keep hope, and keep his emotions from taking a hold of his heart… But he'd failed, and just as he was on the verge of crying out in anguish, he stopped.

The silence of the room around him had settled in, and he looked back up to the Captain Commander. All eyes in the room were locked on the bearded man, who, by Ichigo's guess, had silenced the hall with some manner of proclamation. He'd didn't particularly care what had been said, because every sign pointed to it being irrelevant to his causes at that point in time.

"I understand that all of you wish to assist in the rescue of Captain Hitsugaya," he began, his booming voice still grating hard against the Substitute's frayed nerves. "However, we cannot have any more Captains abandoning their posts recklessly. We need to approach this so that we are not left open for attack should a search party be formed."

Well, all doubts be damned. Apparently the old man did have something relevant to say towards Ichigo's current interests. But, just as he'd predicted, they did little to actually assist in the coming to fruition of said interests. Quite seriously, Ichigo was on the verge of hitting the man.

"Head Captain Yamamoto, may I make a recommendation?"

Ichigo's brightly adorned head snapped to look in surprise at the new speaker. Byakuya had been the one to speak, against all possible odds. Ichigo couldn't imagine what on earth the Head of the Kuchiki family would want to do regarding the rescue of a fellow Captain, but he then supposed that he might have an idea. "Because I am wholeheartedly for preserving one of the few young men out there that's decent enough to be worth fighting for. And you'll find, Ichigo, that even those of us you least expect it from will say the same." He couldn't help the barely-present smile that tugged at his lips then. If he wasn't entirely sure that the other man would have killed him, he would have lunged forward and hugged the icy Captain. But he did succeed in restraining himself, and merely waited to hear what the stoic Kuchiki had to say.

"Proceed, Captain Kuchiki."

Even with all eyes locked on him, Byakuya still managed to maintain his characteristically nihilistic façade. Ichigo would never know how he did it, staying so god damned blue all the time. But as the older Soul Reaper spoke, he paid rapt attention.

"Because we are already at a shortage for Captains, I believe that it is imperative that Captain Hitsugaya be restored to his post as quickly as possible. That being said, I propose that, upon the Substitute Soul Reaper's indication, that we send a reconnaissance team to Hueco Mundo in search of whatever it is Captain Hitsugaya's soul appears to be missing." The berry didn't miss the grateful look that Renji was casting at the back of the head of his Captain, and couldn't help but share in the sentiment. "However, I would recommend that only Lieutenant ranked officers proceed, so that some level of power assurance may be provided without robbing the already taxed squads of any more Captains."

A mental murmur of agreement seemed to settle over the room, and Ichigo watched as many of the remaining Captains and almost all of the Lieutenants nodded in agreement. For the first time in what felt to be years, his heart felt light. Finally, they were making progress. But with a bite to his own tongue and a slight bowing of his head, he couldn't help but hope that they wouldn't be too late.

Every grain of sand in the hourglass was equivalent to a drop of blood, and the more time they wasted, the more of Toshiro's blood would be spilled.

"Agreed," the bearded Captain bellowed out. "It has been decided. Ichigo Kurosaki, you will lead the reconnaissance team to Hueco Mundo. How you get there will be left to your own devices, but it is urged that you proceed swiftly. You may take two Lieutenants with you. Choose wisely. Until such a time that the team returns, with or without Captain Hitsugaya, all other Captains are to be stationed at battle-ready positions at all times. You are all dismissed."

With one glance at Renji, Ichigo already knew what half of his away-team would be. He waited as Renji asked permission from his Captain first, his grin widening a bit when Byakuya openly consented. When the other red head stood with him, he was startled when someone tapped him on the shoulder from behind.

He glanced over his shoulders, his line of sight immediately met with the generous helping of cleavage that was Lieutenant Matsumoto's chest. After digging his face out of her mammaries, he actually managed to look up at her. She was looking down at him with a strange expression of stern softness. Her eyes shook with emotion, and she had a hand on his shoulder that shook even as her grip remained firm. "Nothing you say will convince me that I can't come," she said, glancing back over her shoulder at Captain Ukitake, who stood but a short distance away.

His snowy head nodded in approval, indicating that he was more than willing to cover for her until she returned. Captain Kyoraku stood by his snowy haired companion, serving as support to cover their point. Ichigo didn't really object at all; he couldn't be sure who else to trust in a situation like theirs, and to be quite honest, Toshiro's own Lieutenant at that point put him more at peace than the thought of anybody else. But he knew that it would be hard on her Division, technically being leaderless until both their Captain and Lieutenant returned.

But, he figured that the sooner they got down to business, the sooner that would cease to be an issue.

"I don't think I could tell you no if I tried, Matsumoto," he said quietly, and her expression softened. Apparently the sentiments expressed in his own voice were enough to have her relate to his pain.

"How the hell are we going to get to Hueco Mundo, anyway?" Renji asked quietly, his voice still managing to be petulant as always. Ichigo glanced back at him, and for a moment the other Lieutenant looked nervous, as if afraid he'd said something wrong. But when Ichigo slowly began to smile, the unease seemed to die away.

"The same way I get anywhere. C'mon, guys, we're going to pay Urahara a little visit.

Okay, that seriously took longer than expected. And yet… it didn't. I wrote this in the span of about a week, which is impressive considering it's almost 7k words. That's a decently long chapter for me! And you know what's sad? I probably could have made it longer. But, I really don't think it would have done much for the plot movement in this chapter. I got all that I wanted to say said, so I think I'll just set this down and move onto the next chapter. But, as you might have guessed, the plot has actually arrived in this little story! I know, it certainly took its time rearing its ugly head, but you don't even know the half of it yet. Muahaha. Just you wait, my pretties, just you wait. Nyaha. Ahem. In any case, the poll for Fic2 in this series is still up, so please let me know in a review, and I'm also going to put a poll up on my profile as well. Feel free to vote there as well. At the end of this fic both review votes and profile-poll votes will be tallied and added together. Whichever pairing gets the most votes wins, and will thus be made into the primary plot of the next fic. So, needless to say, please give me feedback. Also, I am looking for someone to write me a set o 100 prompts, because I REALLY want to do a set of IchiHitsu drabbles, but am too lazy to think up my own prompts. If you want to give me some, I'd love you forever. 0w0

Shuuhei-Byakuya: I

Shuuhei-Renji: I

Shuuhei-Kensei: I

8-90's love,

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