Story Title: A Soldier's Honor
Pairing: Grimmjow/Orihime (GrimmHime)
Summary (extended):The war is over. Aizen has won. Lives have been lost, but the fight is not over. Inoue is back in Hueco Mundo, being used for her healing abilities. Grimmjow has a secret that she should know. When things are this miserable, it can bring people together. But will she remember him when she wakes up?
Disclaimer:I don't own Bleach or any of its characters, or plot. I just own my devious imagination!
Individual chapter rating: PG-13 for slight intense situations
A/N: Oh dear… And so begins the new chapter of this story (no pun intended). I'm actually quite excited about this now. I don't know if anyone has ever done a story like this… At least, I've never seen it done in a GrimmHime story – not on Fanfiction. I'll admit, this chapter does speed along a bit, and skip a few months, but I didn't want to waste time with Soul Society stuff. At the end of this, I came across a situation that is never really explained in Bleach. I searched all over for it, and couldn't find anything about it specifically… So I got creative and made up my own take of how it would happen! I hope you guys like it. Okay, I'll get out of your hair now and let you get reading. Reviews pwease =)
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A Soldier's Honor
Written by Illuminate the Shadows
Beta'd by Innocent Sinner in Hell
Chapter Five
Word Count: 2,587
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I awoke in a strange place. Searching my memory to try to remember how I'd gotten here, or where 'here' was, I could find nothing. All I remembered was my name, and that I had died in my previous life. 'A previous life? So there is something after you die?' Opening my eyes slowly, I stared at the ceiling. 'Where am I?'
Raising my hands, I examined them. Soft, with white-tipped nails. Looking down at my body, I found I was clothed in a simple white robe, seemingly made of cotton. My ginger hair reminded me of flame in contrast with the fabric. I was lying on a thick blanket that was placed on the ground. Another blanket lay over me, covering my body from the waist down. It was quite cozy, though my body still felt cold. 'Is it because I'm dead? Am I in heaven?' Desperate to figure out what was going on, I peeked over the blanket.
Looking around, I concluded that I was in a building of some sort. The walls were wooden, and there were plants placed around the room, but besides them, there wasn't much to decorate the atmosphere. It all seemed to emanate a sense of serenity, and tranquility. I sat up carefully, unsure if I would feel pain or not. There was none.
"Orihime! You're finally awake."
Turning my head, I noticed another person in the room for the first time. She was short, and dressed in all black, save for the white obi around her waist and her white socks. She wore some sort of giant sword on her back, and it made me wonder if she was a murderer. Her hair was somewhat short and jet black. Her eyes were a shade of dark sapphire. She seemed… 'Familiar.'
"Have we met?"
Her slight smile, which also seemed to trigger some sort of memory in my head, fell. Shifting to sit on her feet in front of me, she appeared downcast.
"You don't remember, do you?"
Clueless as to what she meant, I shook my head. "How do you know my name?"
There was disappointment in her azure eyes. "There's so much to explain. I hope you can remember some of it in time. But for now, let's just say I knew you in your previous life." Nodding curiously, I listened intently. "My name is Rukia Kuchiki."
"Rukia," I echoed, desperate to regenerate the memories I knew were there. But they wouldn't come. All I found was a blank white space, void of any information. My shoulder slumping, I gazed at her.
The girl nodded. "You are in Soul Society. This is where all good souls come to rest once they've passed on, if they're guided here. Normally, this would be your first visit but… You've been here before. Many times." Blinking, I shook my head.
"I don't remember…"
"You will. It may take time." Rukia shifted once again to sit criss-cross. "Now, you've been here before, like I said. When we learned that you had died in Hueco Mundo, and your soul was guided here, a few of us went to evaluate your spirit energy." 'Hueco Mundo? Spirit energy? What is she talking about…?' Bewildered, I tried to pay attention. "There are certain individuals, like me, that perform soul burials on the deceased, like you. We also fight for the protection of Seireitei."
"Shinigami," I whispered. Confused as to where the word came from, I looked at Rukia. Her smile gave everything away.
"There goes that memory. Yes, Shinigami. Depending on your reiatsu, you may join the academy where Shinigami train. Orihime, you have always had a strong spiritual presence. That was why you could see hollows, and the deceased, in your previous lifetime. Our captains have met, and the decision is final. You will be going to the academy."
Slightly dumbstruck, I shook my head. "Everything's… Going too fast. My head hurts." Wincing, I held my head in my hands.
Rukia's voice had the tone of a frown. "Of course, nothing will be done today, or in the next few days. In the meantime, I've personally assigned myself to jog your memory." Taking my hand, she helped me stand. "Let's get you some proper clothes, and then you can meet everyone all over again."
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"Renji."
The redhead smirked, his tattoos on his eyebrows rising. "Ya got me!"
"Interesting how she remembered your name but not anyone else's," Rukia murmured, standing beside me. Beaming, I looked from her to the others.
"Let's go grab some lunch," the blonde – Kira – offered.
The mess hall was crowded. Once we'd chosen our food, I followed Rukia, winding in and out of people walking by. When we finally reached our destination, I found myself a bit apprehensive.
The table was large, and round, with at least ten people already sitting at it. Renji and Shuuhei sat next to a bald man, joking with him. Assuming these were all Rukia's friends as well, I sat next to her, a bit embarrassed.
"Aren't you Kurosaki's friend?"
Looking up, I found the man across from me was, indeed, speaking to me. He had short black hair, and light purple eyes. Altogether, he was quite feminine.
"Yes, she was." Rukia came to my rescue, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You remember Orihime?"
"The girl we rescued from Hueco Mundo awhile back?" the bald man joined in. The other conversations quieted down at the table, also listening.
"Yeah. She was stolen back, remember?" A few of them nodded.
"She died there," Kira said softly, glancing at me sympathetically. I smiled a bit to acknowledge him; he was nice. 'I like him already. He's even kind of cute…'
"Aww, so she doesn't remember any of us, does she?" an orange-haired woman perked up. She had abnormally large breasts and light silver eyes.
"Naturally," Renji murmured. "Her memory's comin' back, slowly. She just got here yesterday. It'll probably take awhile."
Lowering my head, I felt my cheeks heat up. 'I hate being the center of attention. Everyone please stop staring at me…' The womanly man in front of me cleared his throat, and I raised my eyes to find his hand extended to me.
"I'm Yumichika. Nice to meet you, again." I shook his hand with a soft giggle. "At least I think we've met. Not properly, of course, but–"
"Yumi, let the poor girl eat," Renji smirked, throwing some kind of fruit at the frilly man. He squealed and ducked, dodging it. I glanced at Rukia, and she shook her head.
"They're insane, Orihime. Welcome to Seireitei."
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Time passed. Everything seemed so new, like a whole new start, yet so familiar, like I'd gotten a concussion and didn't remember much. But as days, weeks, months passed, I began to remember. I remembered Sora's death, and how I had been able to see spirits in my former life. I remembered something painful; Ichigo. When I'd asked Rukia where he was, she frowned and held me for a moment. It was then I knew he was dead. Dead for a second time; for good. Strangely enough, I remembered him, but not his death. My memory seemed to come back from the very beginning of my life, slowly creeping it's way up to the present. It was like a type of short-term memory loss.
The academy was tough. The training was difficult; I had a naturally passive personality, so getting into a fighting mentality proved to be tricky. Then there were the actual classes, like a university in the human world.
Every once in a while, I would ask Rukia how I measured up to my old self. It was almost always the same answer; I was very similar to the old Orihime, but with subtle variations. She told me not to worry and that everyone was like that.
Because of my high spirit energy, I was only required to attend the academy for two years; a third of what Rukia had put in. She was jealous, and wasn't afraid to let it show. But it was good-natured, and I laughed along with her. She helped me with my studies and training; she even let me use her sword for sparring with Renji. I felt pride when fellow students walked by and saw me training with a lieutenant of the Divisions. But Rukia's sword was different. It was hers. When I asked her when I would receive my own, she only smiled and said, "When you are ready."
After five months at the academy, I was ready. The ceremony was glorious. It was exciting. And it was all for me.
Because of all the different levels and different people, hardly anyone had their Zanpakuto Ceremony on the same day as someone else. When we were ready, it was scheduled quickly.
Approaching the hour, I stood in my quarters, watching Rukia brush my long ginger hair in the mirror in front of me. I was clothed in the traditional all-white clothing, save for the golden obi, which represented which military arm I was training to become a part of – the Gotei 13.
"Excited?"
Turning to face Rukia, I took in her beaming expression. Nodding, I brought a hand to my abdomen.
"Nervous…"
"Don't worry," she murmured, straightening the wrinkles from my obi. "I was nervous to meet Sode no Shirayuki too. The butterflies will go away. It's almost like getting married. Or," she wrinkled her nose, "that's what I've heard, anyway."
In the academy, we focused mostly on Kido, Hakuda and Hoho practices for the first part of our training. Once we received our sword, I learned that we would be spending nearly all our time learning how to communicate with our Zanpakuto and learning the art of Zanjutsu. The thought of having my own Zanpakuto was almost too thrilling for my mind to comprehend.
"Orihime? Are you ready?"
Blinking my way out of my reminiscences, I met her dark blue eyes. 'Here I come.'
"Yes."
Taking her arm, I let her lead me out into the sunlight.
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"Orihime Inoue. Your fellow classmates, instructors, and friends have gathered today to witness a very special event." Yamamoto paused, and the crowd was deathly silent. Although I didn't quite enjoy being the center of attention – and oh, I was; there were at least fifty souls watching – my entire body quivered with excitement.
"The receiving of a Zanpakuto is something that happens once in a lifetime, for each Shinigami. Once you are united, your Zanpakuto will remain with you forever, until the day you die, and will assist you and be your greatest ally in combat. Mastering the skill of Zanjutsu will take time, but in time, you will learn to control its power."
'It's almost like getting married,' I mused, clasping my hands behind my back. "Before we reveal Orihime's Zanpakuto, we will, traditionally, recite the Commandment."
Dozens of voices, old and young, high and low, male and female, spoke as one. "Do not seek beauty in battle. Do not seek virtue in death. Do not make the mistake of considering only your own life. If you wish to protect that which you must protect…" My eyes wandered to light blue ones in the crowd. Kira's lips curved into a soft smile as we recited the last sentence; perhaps the most powerful. "… Slice the enemy you must defeat from behind."
Yamamoto turned to pick up a long sword, sheathed in sacred white cloth. Holding it out to me with two hands, he smiled encouragingly. "Now, young Orihime, I present to you your Zanpakuto." Reaching out with trembling hands, I took it. "Reveal her." Obeying him anxiously, I pulled the white cloth from the sword, careful of the sharp blade that I knew lay underneath. My eyes eagerly took it in.
The blade was long and thin; perhaps an inch or two longer than the usual Zanpakuto. Silver was encrypted with winding vines, from the tip to the beginning of the hilt. The handle and hilt was a golden-orange colour, with what looked like leaves surrounding the top. A place for my small hand lay right underneath the golden umbrella-like hilt, and I gripped it. The moment I did, everything around me began to dull. Almost in a day-dream like state, I barely heard Yamamoto's voice.
"That's it. Reveal her identity…"
I was in a meadow, yet still aware that I was standing on a platform back in Soul Society. Long grass tickled my bare legs up to my knees. The air was cool. Trees circled me in the distance, all with leaves the colour of autumn.
"Inoue."
Spinning around, I saw her. Tall – nearly as tall as Renji – and graceful, she approached me. Her long hair was a silvery-white. She was covered by only light green cloth, exposing her long legs, pale abdomen and slim shoulders. She possessed an aura of authority.
She stood before me now, eyes a brilliant colour of sunsets and fallen leaves; golden-orange, just like the hilt of my Zanpakuto. She reached out to touch my temple. Her hand was icy.
"Do you know who I am?"
Gazing at her, I felt her presence fill my body as I breathed her in. The air was thick with her soul, and goosebumps broke out on my skin. The meadow was gone. The trees were gone. The soft grass was gone. But she was not.
"Rakuyo," I whispered. "She is Rakuyo."
"Excellent!" Yamamoto turned to the crowd. "Fellow people of Seireitei, Orihime joins you as a trainee of Zanjutsu, with her Fallen Leaves."
Still cool and invigorated from her presence within me, I was lifted from the stage by Renji, and put on his shoulders. A grin forming on my face, I held the blade high in the air. Cheers rang from the crowd, until it was nearly deafening. 'I am alive.'
'We are alive.'
Smiling, I acknowledged her. 'We are.'
Friends surrounded Renji and me. Rukia, Matsumoto, Ikkaku, Yumichika, Shuuhei, and – to my delight – Kira. When Renji finally let me down, he tossed me. With a squeal, I experienced a moment of panic, dropping Rakuyo, until I landed in steady arms. Looking up at Kira, I felt my cheeks grow hot. He set me down, and I turned to see Ikkaku examining my blade.
"Can't wait to see what this baby's got," he smirked.
The congratulations began. I was entirely thrilled to be praised by Hitsugaya-taichou and Kenpachi-taichou. Basking in a feeling of accomplishment, I was caught up in the crowd of people around me.
Someone was yelling. Breaking off from my conversation with Rangiku, we turned to see what was going on. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as a man ran toward us. Yamamoto was standing a few feet away, and he seemed to be the man's goal. But he didn't make it. He fell, seemingly out of exhaustion. Two Shinigami rushed to catch him, holding him up. I found my eyes widening when I realized he was bloody.
"What is going on here?" Yamamoto demanded, stepping closer to the man.
The Shinigami panted, blood trickling down from his head to blind him in one eye. "They're here! They're back! They killed… Hinamori-fukutaichou!"
Before the elderly captain could respond, a terrible ripping sound filled the air. Whipping around, gasps filled the air, followed by screams. I stared in horror at the large black opening in the sky above us.