Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters; those belong to Tite Kubo. I do, however, claim ownership of this particular story's ideas and of my OCs created for this story. Please don't use them without consulting me first, if you would be so kind.
Love Conquers All
Chapter 11: Payback
The short raven-haired girl got to her feet shakily, rubbing her eyes absently with her forearm and cringing as the sting of sweat burned the sensitive organs for a moment before fading. Looking down, she saw a dusty road beneath her.
Odd, she thought, last thing I remember, I was playing soccer on grass…
Suddenly the pain she had felt moments ago shot through her chest again and she clutched at her heart, slowly beginning to realize the terrible truth.
She, Karin Kurosaki, was dead.
Sagging under the mind-boggling weight of her situation, the dark-eyed girl staggered over to the side of a nearby hut and collapsed against its wall, raising her arm lamely to shield her face from the unusually bright moonlight. She had almost passed out from sheer fatigue when a form appeared in front of her and blocked the moon out entirely. Looking up hesitantly, Karin found herself staring at a young boy seemingly about her age with dusty brown hair and lively hazel eyes.
"You new here?" he asked, and Karin nodded lamely. The boy saw how fatigued she was and scolded himself mentally.
"Geez, where are my manners?" he said, gingerly reaching a hand out to Karin. When she didn't move, he sighed and inched his arm a bit closer.
"Come on, rookie," he insisted, "we gotta get you inside, before you pass out and get robbed, or worse."
Karin's eyes widened as she took the boy's hand, letting herself get hauled to her feet.
"What's 'worse'?"
The boy snorted, opening the door and motioning Karin inside before entering himself and closing it behind him.
"In the 78th Rukon district, kid? Trust me when I say you don't want to know. Just thank your lucky stars I found you, and not some sleezeball like Kora. My name's Aiato, by the way," the boy said as he pulled some earthenware dishes from a cupboard, while Karin took a seat and sighed.
"Karin."
"Nice to meet you, Karin. I'm afraid all I got is some noodles and some leftover chicken; that sound all right to you?"
Kurosaki felt her stomach rumble and she groaned.
"I could eat a tire right now," she answered, and Aiato laughed.
"I'll take that as a yes, then. Okay, one order of chicken noodle stew, coming right up!"
Karin let herself relax as the smell of cooking food wafted through the air, but something in the back of her mind told her to stay on guard; there was something about this guy that seemed a little too good to be true, and if there was one thing her annoying dad had ever taught her, it was this: if something was too good to be true, drop it and run like hell in the other direction.
"Do you have a last name, Karin?"
Aiato's question shocked the girl out of her thoughts, and before she could stop her tongue she had replied.
"Yeah, Kurosaki."
She didn't see the shocked look that appeared on Aiato's face as he heard that name, nor the sinister smile that replaced it for a moment before vanishing, but something in the air was nonetheless screaming at Karin to get away from this kid as fast as she possibly could.
"Something wrong, Karin?"
Kurosaki blinked and found herself looking into the far-too-close-for-comfort face of her benefactor, who was currently holding out a bowl of soup to her.
"Soup's ready," he said cheerfully, putting it down in front of her on the table before sitting across from her and digging in. Karin hesitated for a few moments, wanting to do something, anything, but her normally iron will seemed to have evaporated. Finally caving in, she raised the bowl to her lips and took a gulp. It wasn't half bad, and she took another sip before something lurched behind her eyes, causing Karin to drop the bowl onto the table with a clatter.
Aiato's gaze locked with hers for a brief moment, his victorious smirk sending her out of what was left of her mind with rage. Something surged up from within the dark-eyed Kurosaki as she shut her eyes tightly, and when she opened them again they were glowing a pure, dangerous blue. Aiato's smirk was rapidly shrinking, swallowed up by an increasingly terrified stare. Karin's mouth opened and she spoke, her voice bolstered by the raging reiatsu and sounding like a wrathful Hollow.
"What were you trying to do, worm? Do you have ANY idea who you're screwing with?!"
Before the ill-fated youth could make a sound, Karin had raised her hand and shot out a focused blast of the reiatsu that crackled so fiercely around her, vaporizing Aiato's head entirely. The sound of his body hitting the table with a sickening thud jolted Karin out of her berserker rage, and she looked at the destruction she had caused with nausea and fear. She had killed someone.
She had killed someone.
Karin had taken the life of another spirit, and she hadn't been able to stop herself. More than that, she hadn't wanted to stop herself. Looking down at her left hand with trepidation, the dark-haired Kurosaki clenched it into a fist and rested her head on it, tears boiling behind her closed eyelids.
"What's happening to me?"
Karin hadn't been asking the question to anyone, so she was quite surprised when she received a reply.
'You are finally waking up, Karin Kurosaki.'
Her eyes flew open and she sat completely upright, tears forgotten in her shock.
"Who said that? Who's there?" she demanded, her voice rising slightly. The voice that had spoken before laughed scornfully at the girl's ignorance, deciding to take things into its own hands.
'Come, girl,' it answered. 'Allow me to introduce myself to you properly.'
Spots of light flashed before Karin's vision before everything was swallowed up by encroaching blackness, sending her spiraling down to join the mysterious voice and whomever its owner was.
Death considered herself the smartest of the Horsemen, and her intellect combined with a strong sense of pride usually prevented her from admitting to her mistakes. But as the ghost-white warrior kept attacking again and again and again without signs of slowing down in the slightest, even Death had to acknowledge a very apparent fact.
She had made a very, very big mistake killing that little brat.
"Why won't you just fucking die!?" Hollow Ichigo shouted, landing yet another vicious blow to his adversary and grinning madly as he saw the blood arc out of her shoulder. Death laughed despite her pain, stabbing out with her Yari and making a deep gash across her ghostly white enemy.
"That's my line, kid," she said with a smirk. "You honestly think a freak like you has a chance against Death incarnate? Don't bullshit me!"
Normally Ogihci would spit out some retort at that or laugh manically with bloodlust, but right now the yellow-eyed berserker's face was as cold as a tombstone. Concentrating, he focused his immense reiatsu on his chest wound until it had sealed itself up completely, much to the surprise of his opponent.
"But, my Yari…" the pale woman stammered. "You shouldn't be able to heal your wound!"
At this, Ogihci did let a smirk grace his face.
"Did you honestly think a toothpick like that would be able to bring me down? Newsflash, bitch: the day I go down to some demonic harlot like you is the day it snows in Hell. Getsuga Tensho!"
The two enemies were so close to each other that Death had no chance to dodge the attack, and a moment later the only thing that existed for her was pain.
Ogihci saw his opponent's arm fall to the ground with satisfaction, but he wasn't anywhere near done bringing the pain to the one being he hated most in the world at this moment. Tensa Zangetsu carved two deep slashes in an 'x' shape across Death's chest before the warrior leapt backwards, wanting to draw out the pale woman's torment for as long as possible. The wounded Horseman, however, had other ideas.
"Foolish, pathetic Hollow," she hissed, and Ogihci noticed that her voice was getting shriller and shriller by the second, "did you really think this Yari was the only weapon I have? Allow me to show you my true power, a form not witnessed outside of Hell since the day I burned down Sodom and Gomorrah. Ascend, Thanatas!"
Dark reiatsu exploded from around Death's pale form, and somewhere in the distance three children died in their sleep. Her wounds closed up as the energy forcefully pulled them shut, and when she was completely healed the transformation began in earnest. Her eyes became totally pitch black, her teeth turning into a row full of fangs at the same time her hair twisted and grew into a bundle of writhing snakes. Reminded all too clearly of the ancient Furies, Ogihci couldn't repress the first shiver of genuine fear he had felt in his lifetime. Black, leathery wings sprouted from Death's shoulder-blades and her Yari grew and morphed into a double-bladed scythe, with a hooked blade on each end of a black steel shaft.
"Are you afraid, child?"
Her voice was chaos and anguish and heart-rending sorrow, and it took every ounce of both Ichigo's and Ogihci's strength to keep from cracking under the raw power of the Horseman's true form. Smirking, Ogihci readied Tensa Zangetsu once more.
"Nope," he replied, "but I can understand why you haven't used that form in so long; it's heinous! I'll be doing you a favor putting you down, woman."
"Such impudence," the demon hissed, brandishing her scythe and charging. "If you have no respect for your elders, I'll just have to pound some in to you!"
Ogihci deflected the first blade, but the second strike was too fast and would have split him clean in half down the middle if he hadn't pushed off of his heels at the last possible second. Drawing in a shaky, blood-soaked breath, the Hollow was faced with the grim realization that he might very well die. That realization was only made more certain by the pain that surged through him as Death landed a second blow along the diagonal, cruelly mimicking the scars Ogihci had given her a few moments ago. Coughing up blood and collapsing to his knees, the Hollow could only seethe in fury as his enemy's mocking laughter filled his ears. Closing his yellow and black eyes, he entered the Inner World that was his home and faced Ichigo and Zangetsu.
"This is bad," Ichigo said as he looked at Ogihci's battered and eviscerated form, causing the Hollow to roll his eyes in frustration.
"No shit, Sherlock," he shot back.
"This is no time for bickering," Zangetsu growled. "Tell us why you have come here in the middle of the fight, Hollow."
"Isn't it obvious, Old Man? I need more power, but to get it I need that twerp over there to agree to it. I need to evolve."
Ichigo felt a shiver shoot up his spine as he recalled the last and only time his Hollow side had completely manifested, during his fight with the Vizards. It was arguably the peak of his Hollow powers, and his most potent offensive form, but it was also the riskiest. He shook his head.
"No. It's too risky… I might not be able to take back control once you step in."
Ogihci was incredulous.
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" he shouted. "You'd rather die, huh? Is that it? You coward; what about that woman of yours? Don't you want to screw her brains out at least once before you go?"
Ichigo sighed as he imagined Rukia's tear-streaked face looking down at his corpse, but in his vision her arms were now wrapped around the shoulders of a certain red-haired Soul Reaper.
"She has Renji," he said weakly, clearly not believing it himself. Ogihci snarled, realizing he was going to have to cut deep.
"What about Karin!? Damn it, are you honestly telling me that you'd be willing to go to our grave without avenging her, the sister you failed to protect? You sicken me, Ichigo Kurosaki."
Ogihci saw the wounded look cross Ichigo's face and knew he had won, while Zangetsu just glared at him for having resorted to such a low blow. The Hollow just shrugged and jerked his head at Ichigo, as if to say 'It's in his hands now.' After a few agonizing moments as all three beings felt the physical pain of Ogihci's wounds flowing through them, Ichigo sighed and nodded his head.
"Do it."
Despite his stoic outward appearance, Ulquiorra had been one of the most sensitive of the Espada when it came to picking up on even the tiniest fluctuation of reiatsu, an ability he had relied on in combat time and time again. So when a volcanic eruption of spiritual energy exploded off in the distance, it was like a cannon had gone off right next to his ear. Normally his sleep wouldn't have been in the slightest due to the walls of bloodstone that surrounded the Seireitei, but the gate that had been forced down was still being repaired, and a hole that wide was more than enough space for outside reiatsu to rush through. The energy was dark and evil, like the feeling that had surrounded the former Espada the first time he had seen the Gates of Hell.
It was the reiatsu of one of the Four Horsemen fully unleashed, an entity of pure carnage and apocalyptic destruction. As he sat upright in his bed and tried to pinpoint what had caused such a reaction, a much more concentrated and twisted version of Ichigo Kurosaki's reiatsu when he donned his Hollow mask emerged. It would seem that the warrior had let his Hollow assume near-total control of his soul, but there was still a shred of something holding it back from total domination. A few seconds passed and suddenly Ichigo's reiatsu plummeted to almost nonexistent; he was losing, and losing badly. But then, almost as soon as it had taken a dive, Ichigo's reiatsu soared to heights Ulquiorra had never witnessed, not even from Aizen. The Soul Reaper in his reiatsu had shrunken to the faintest of glimmers and the Hollow side of him had risen, like a dark and terrible dragon. Ichigo's Hollow was fully-evolved, and more than ready to slaughter its foolish opponent.
"Kurosaki… what the hell are you?" Schiffer muttered, his normally emotionless face stunned by the raw power emanating from the warrior. His musings were interrupted by a moan from across the room; Nel, who was sleeping on the couch and still in her childish form, was clutching her head and shivering. Clearly, Ulquiorra was not the only one who felt the battle going on some miles away. Coming to terms with the fact that he wasn't going to be getting any more sleep tonight, the former fourth Espada got up and arched his back, letting out an involuntary groan as his joints and muscles shifted before settling back into place. Schiffer began to walk over to the balcony, where the seedlings of the sunrise were becoming visible, but he stopped when he heard Nel shiver again. Giving a small sigh, Ulquiorra walked over to his sheets, using a delicate sliver of cero to cut a section of the fabric free. Walking over to the small form of the former third Espada, he put the makeshift blanket over her and turned back around, resuming his journey towards the balcony. Schiffer heard the quiet sigh of appreciation behind him but did not turn to look, focusing instead on the battle that was raging over the horizon. If Ichigo managed to defeat Death, tomorrow was going to bring a lot more with it than the sunrise.
As confident as she felt about her inevitable victory, Death couldn't keep a small cascade of goose bumps from running down her arm as she saw the animal crouched before her.
No, animal wasn't the right word to use… this thing was a monster, pure and simple.
Ichigo's Hollow had finally come out in full force: the flowing mane of orange hair, white tail crowned by dark burgundy streaks and gaping hole in his chest were all testaments to that fact, topped off by the insane grin currently being sported by the sharpest rows of teeth the Horseman had ever seen, and that included her own. The Hollow's mouth opened to reveal a long, sharp tongue that moved sinuously over its fangs, a purely animalistic expression of bloodlust.
"You shouldn't have killed her, you stupid, stupid woman," the Hollow hissed acidly. "That's all it took for me to convince the whelp to let me loose, and now that I'm out you don't have a prayer."
"Is that so? I don't have a prayer? Maybe that would be true if I snuffed out the other one, too. Yuzu is her name, ri—?"
The Horseman never got a chance to finish her threat, the huge blast of a gran rey cero engulfing her entire form at once.
"You have no place mentioning that name, you whore!" the Hollow shouted, furious that his opponent had even thought about harming another one of his kin. When the smoke cleared from his gargantuan attack, Death was on one knee and one of her wings had been sheared right off of her body. Burn marks, open sores and numerous cauterized gashes covered every inch of her body, but somehow she was still breathing. Barely. The Hollow stalked up to her like a tiger eyeing up a wounded meal, his sharp claws just itching to do some more damage. But the vengeful urge was overpowering the instinctive side of the Hollow for the moment, and so it didn't indulge in its primal need for blood.
Not yet, anyway.
"Finish… this…" Death gasped out raggedly, her voice weak. The Hollow just laughed, a malicious sound that tore the air to shreds.
"Finish?" he echoed mockingly. "Why would I want to do that? Trust me, woman," the Hollow said as it took Death's scythe from her and broke off the blades, jamming them back into the ends of the shaft upright, like a double-pointed spear,
"Our fun is just beginning."
Saika opened his eyes grudgingly, putting a hand to his temple and rubbing it tenderly. The battle between the two fully unsealed powers, as short as it had been, had lasted long enough to give the half-demon prince a raging migraine.
"That kid needs to learn some self control, before he kills an innocent bystander with his reiatsu alone…"
"Tell me about it," Yoruichi groaned, her back to Saika until she turned over and over again to face him, golden eyes practically gleaming with contentedness despite the fact her head felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to it. She beamed a smile and wrapped her arms around Saika's neck, laying her forehead against his own.
"It's good to have you back, Lieutenant," she said softly, and Saika chuckled.
"It's good to be back, Captain," he replied, smiling as well.
"So," Yoruichi said seriously, the smile disappearing from her face, but not her eyes, "are you going to tell me what the happened to you down there?"
Saika wasn't ready to have this conversation yet, afraid of how his former Captain would react to the news that he was half-demon. He prayed silently to whomever would listen for a way out, and his plea was answered when Captain-Commander Yamamoto's voice echoed through his head, something he suspected was happening to every Captain and Lieutenant as well. His suspicion was confirmed when he saw Yoruichi's eyes widen at the unexpected intrusion.
"Every Captain and Lieutenant, report to the main hall immediately for a Council of War. Former Tenth Division Captain Saika Aron and Rukia Kuchiki, your presences are expected as well. That is all."
Yoruichi looked disappointed, while Saika was struggling not to look relieved. Seeing the insistent look in his lover's eyes that said 'Don't think for one minute you're getting off the hook,' the orange-eyed prince moved his head forward and kissed her gently, but with emotion.
"I'll tell you all about it later, I promise. But for now, as much as I hate to say it, we need to get dressed."
Shihoin rolled her eyes and punched Aron on the arm.
"You men are all the same," she said.
"Hopelessly in love?" Saika asked, and Yoruichi chuckled.
"Horndogs."
"Horndogs that are hopelessly in love, you mean," he parried, and the Goddess of Flash sighed.
"You're incorrigible."
The former Captain smirked.
"Wouldn't be me if I wasn't."
Knowing that their verbal duels could go on forever, Yoruichi rolled away from her loved one and got up, ignoring the childish whine Saika gave as he reached out to pull her back. Looking over her shoulder, Yoruichi smirked deviously.
"You want any of this, Lieutenant, you're going to have to come and get it."
Saika groaned, his lethargy playing tug-of-war with his hormones.
"You're evil, Yoru."
The princess smiled at the nickname he'd given her so long ago, putting on the clothes she thought of as so confining with a slight sigh.
"Wouldn't be me if I wasn't," she replied, and Saika grinned as he shoved himself out of bed.
"Fair enough. Now," he said, advancing towards Yoruichi with a grin on his face that made her blood sing with anticipation, "I think it's time I took a bit of what you made me get up for, no?"
"Saika, we have a meeting to get to—mmpfh!" Shihoin's protestations were cut off by a lunging Aron, who gave her a soul-melting kiss that she was soon hungrily returning. When they broke it off after several moments, there was a mischievous gleam in Saika's eyes that Yourichi knew all-too-well.
"Being a few minutes late to something is usually considered fashionable, Sir," he said, before moving his head forward again. Yoruichi was sure that being fashionably late didn't apply to Councils of War, but she wasn't about to argue with the feeling she was experiencing right now.
"I hope you know you're taking full responsibility for what happens when we're late, kid."
"We'll be fine," Saika answered casually. "I'm ready to go now, if you want, and I can tell you right now we'll definitely be there before Captain Kyoraku or Lieutenant Nanao."
Yoruichi arched an eyebrow curiously.
"Why would they…"
When she saw the smirk on Saika's face and the look in his eye, her mouth dropped open.
"No way…"
Aron chuckled at the look on her face, and then spoke.
"Let's just say that Umbriacan Sake is some powerful stuff, and leave it at that. Come on, Captain, we have somewhere to be."
The Goddess of Flash and her former subordinate arrived at the meeting via flash-steps, and Yoruichi noticed with a grin that Shunsui and his Lieutenant were both, in fact, still absent. Aron glanced over and saw Urhara and Byakuya both looking at him, Urahara with open curiosity and his old friend with guarded hope. Saika knew exactly what had gone on between the two of them by their looks, and he just hoped a visit from Senbonsakura Kageyoshi wasn't in his near future. Smirking, he locked eyes with his best friend and spoke.
"Pay the man, Captain Kuchiki."
Byakuya's expression was shocked for a moment and then fell, while Urahara flashed a triumphant smile as the elder Kuchiki reluctantly handed him a pouch.
"Much obliged, Aron-san," Kisuke said with a sly nod of his head, while Yoruichi finally caught on to what was happening and blushed.
"Believe me, Urahara," Saika said with an equally sly smile, "the pleasure was all mine."
Yoruichi's blush deepened and she attempted to smack Saika hard upside his head, causing the orange-eyed prince to dodge the blow reflexively and laugh at his lover's outburst.
"You're sleeping on the couch tonight, you cretin," Shihoin growled, fighting back with her deadliest weapon and cutting deep. Saika's grin changed to a devastated stare, and Byakuya let out a rare chuckle.
Before anyone had the chance to comment on the fact that Byakuya Kuchiki had just chuckled, Captain Kyoraku and Ise Nanao suddenly appeared. Ise's skewed glasses spoke volumes, and no one said anything for a few seconds until Matsumoto broke the silence.
"It's about time!" she said, and Nanao shot her a murderous glare before settling into position near her Captain. Yamamoto banged his staff hard on the floor to signal the start of the meeting, but before he spoke the Soul Reapers thought they saw the smallest trace of a smile disappear from his face. Surprisingly, Yamamoto found himself agreeing with the Tenth Division's Lieutenant. But pride for his adopted son had no place here, and he spoke out in his usual gruff timbre.
"This Council is hereby called to order. Saika Aron, come forward and be recognized."
Saika stepped forward and faced the Captain, bowing, before stepping back into position. Just as he was about to begin speaking, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow appeared behind him with the telltale buzz of sonido heralding their arrival.
"We apologize for our tardiness, Aron-sama," Ulquiorra spoke into the sudden silence, his head bowed. "We received no summons, and so we were forced to track your reiatsu instead. Please feel free to reprimand us in any way you see fit," he finished, raising his head. Saika sighed.
"Do I look like Aizen to you, Ulquiorra? Be at ease, gentlemen."
The two former Espada relaxed at once. It was much harder to tell with Schiffer, though, whose only difference was that his shoulders were slightly less rigid than they had been moments before. Grimmjow, on the other hand, started looking over the Soul Reapers like food choices in a buffet. His eyes lingered longer on Soi Fon then any of the others, for reasons only Jaegerjaques knew. When his survey was finished the blue-haired Espada returned his gaze to the Second Division Captain, his grin widening.
He had seen something in her similar to the emotion that had driven him so hard for so long: the desperate need to prove himself, to grow stronger and stronger at any cost. The will to fight always made for the best opponents, and this Captain had it in spades. It was going to be fun drawing it out of her; that was for sure. Soi Fon snorted in disgust and gave Grimmjow a glare that, far from intimidating him, made his blood quicken with excitement.
'And she's feisty, to boot,' he thought, eyes flashing. 'Nice.'
The tense silence in the room was broken by Yamamoto, who tapped his staff on the ground before speaking, his voice harsh.
"I will not have this meeting witnessed by these abominations," he said, glaring over at the two former Espada with brown eyes open. Ulquiorra stiffened and Grimmjow snarled, reaching for his zanpakuto, but he was stopped by Saika's hand resting firmly on his arm.
"I'll handle this," he said, using the language of the demons to convey his seriousness. Yoruichi shivered at the harsh, yet entrancing sound of the ancient tongue, and the power that rippled within the words. Stepping forward, Saika looked Yamamoto right in the eyes and frowned as every other Soul Reaper in the hall besides the Commander held their breath.
"With all due respect, Commander," Saika said, Oujiscuro seeping into his voice and giving it a decidedly deadly edge, "the former arrancar you referred to just now are my men, and as such I will take full responsibility for their actions. Secondly," he continued, his orange eyes darkening as his demonic side became even more prominent, "if you ever speak of them in such dehumanizing terms again, I will relieve you of your sword-arm."
Aron's words left no doubt as to his seriousness, and for several moments no one in the chamber made a sound as Yamamoto and the former Captain stared each other down. At length the old man sighed, frowning.
"I see your impulsiveness has only grown stronger in your absence, Aron-san," he said, and Saika relaxed his glare, bowing.
"I apologize for my outburst, Captain-Commander," he said, "but I am sure that you of all people will understand that I was forced to defend the honor of my warriors."
"I would expect nothing less from a former Captain," Yamamoto said seriously, before shifting his gaze to the two former Espada and back to Aron again.
"Do you vouch for these two, Aron-san?"
Saika nodded gravely.
"Absolutely. As they have shed their blood for me, so would I gladly shed mine for them."
Yamamoto nodded, satisfied with the response.
"Very well. I will hold you to that, Aron-san. However, do not expect us to trust these soldiers of yours in the slightest; I will have my eyes on both of them personally. Now, would you be so kind as to deliver your report of the current situation?"
Saika nodded and returned once again to his position, where he briefly noticed his comrades' looks of thankfulness and Yoruichi's look of unabashed awe before he turned his attention to the room at large and began.
The Hollow gazed down at his finished product with satisfaction, knowing by her screams just how much Death had suffered before he decided to end it. As far as the ravenous Hollow was concerned, she got off light. But now there was a whole other battle to be fought, inside of Ichigo's Spirit World. Closing its eyes, the Hollow shifted into the Spirit World and barely had enough time to cross its arms in a block before Ichigo was on top of it, Tensa Zangetsu in his hand and fire in his eyes.
"Playtime's over, punk," he hissed. "Give me back control."
The Hollow, who had transformed back into Ogihci, smirked before breaking out into a laugh.
"Make me."
That was the wrong thing to say to a pissed-off, still-grieving and obscenely powerful teenager. Before he could blink Ogihci found himself slammed into the side of a skyscraper, with one of Ichigo's hands around his neck choking the life from him. The Soul Reaper's brown eyes blazed with fury, and his hand tightened its grip enough to make his Inner Hollow choke and struggle to breathe.
"I don't hear you surrendering, punk," the Soul Reaper growled, driving his bankai into Ogihci's chest for emphasis and smirking as black liquid jetted from the Hollow's mouth.
"I really have no problem with eradicating you completely, buddy," Ichigo said with unnerving calm, "so you have a choice to make. Either surrender and give me back control, now and forever, or I will kill you right here and now."
For the first time in his life, Ogihci felt genuine, paralyzing fear. Since when had this brat turned into such a hardcore, cold-hearted bastard?
"Fine," he gasped out. "I concede this round to you, Ichigo. But if you ever slip again…"
Ichigo yanked out his sword roughly and sent it back to its shikai state, re-sheathing it. Turning to Ogihci, he smiled viciously.
"I won't. Trust me, partner."
With that the Soul Reaper vanished, leaving the Hollow alone with a very smug-looking Zangetsu. Furious, Ogihci shot his acquaintance a savage glare.
"What the fuck are you looking at, Old Man?"
Zangetsu just laughed, walking away and leaving the Hollow alone to lick his wounds, and his ego.
Karin Kurosaki's Spirit World
Karin opened her eyes slowly and looked around, shocked to find herself no longer in the shack she had been in a few moments ago, but instead in the middle of a massive canyon that stretched as far as the eyes could see, dominated by dark spires of stone and draped by a dark, roiling sky lit by a black moon.
"Where am I?" she asked aloud, whirling around when a malicious voice laughed and answered her, the same voice that had spoken to her before.
"We're in your Spirit World, kid."
Karin found herself face-to-face with a young woman slightly taller than herself, with the same black hair and dark eyes, although the spirit's eyes were decidedly more seductive, and dangerous.
"Who are you?" Karin asked, more than a little afraid of the being in front of her. "What's your name?"
The spirit laughed, a cackle that sent chills through the young Kurosaki.
"Even if I told you my name, child, you wouldn't be able to hear it. Not yet, anyway. And asking who I am is just stupid; what I am is far, far more important."
"Then… what are you? And why does my Spirit World look so… angry?"
The spirit smiled darkly.
"I'm your zanpakuto, or I will be as soon as you learn how to materialize me. And as for why this place looks so depressing, that's because it's a reflection of your soul. Do you even realize how much bottled up aggression and anger there is in here? All of those tears you refused to cry, all of those emotions you refused to let out because you 'had to be strong', every single ounce of that stagnates here. Hell, you managed to turn the goddamn moon black, and I'd be lying if I didn't say that impressed me just a bit."
Karin was shocked by this explanation and didn't want to believe what she had heard, but she knew deep down that the spirit, which was part of her being, after all, had not lied.
"Damn," she said, the curse escaping her mouth in surprise and twisted admiration for the sheer amount of angst she'd been able to seal away over the years. "Is there any way I can change it back?"
The spirit shrugged.
"I don't really care. Maybe you can sit down with a copy of The Notebook and a pint of Hagen Daas and have a good cry, but that's your call, kid."
Karin shuddered at the thought of doing something so sappy, and sighed.
"I'm sure it'll fix itself sooner or later."
The spirit smirked, her eyes flashing.
"Whatever you say, Kurosaki. Anyway, this is wasting my time. Since I don't feel like sitting around on my ass doing nothing while you try to figure out how to materialize me, I'll give you a bit of a leg up. The rest of it's up to you, though, Karin. See ya," the spirit finished, and the dark-eyed Kurosaki found herself being pulled up and out of her Spirit World, closing her eyes tightly against the rushing wind.
When she opened her eyes again, Karin was back in the cabin, and Aiato's headless corpse was starting to stink.
"Oh, God," the young Kurosaki said, fighting back the urge to vomit and holding her nose closed tightly while she staggered out of the door and into the dim light of the dawn. A wakizashi now hung at her hip in a black sheath, the hilt wrappings a silver color. She drew the weapon out slowly and reverently, feeling the energy pulsing through it and knowing that this was a zanpakuto, the weapon that her brother and the mysterious white-haired boy named Toshiro had both used to fight Hollows.
Before she had taken much time to admire the blade, however, shouts from nearby drew her attention back to the present at once.
"Aiato! What's taking you so long, man? Just grab the bitch and let's… what the hell?!"
The four young thugs who jogged impatiently into view weren't greeted with the sight they had expected: instead of their partner in crime hoisting a drugged body over his shoulder, they saw a young woman, dressed in a Soul Reaper's kimono. She was holding a very sharp, unsheathed zanpakuto, and looked rather displeased that she had just been referred to as a 'bitch'.
Very, very displeased.
"You know, boys," Karin said in a completely calm voice that made the thugs' eyes widen in fear, "that's not a very nice way to refer to a girl. Just out of curiosity, before I beat the crap out of you, just what were you bastards planning to do with me, exactly?"
The cockiest thug in the group stepped forward, brandishing a sharp, if completely normal katana.
"If you mean what are we still gonna do with you, once we capture you, we're gonna sell you on the market!"
Karin allowed her instinctive curiosity to overtake her revulsion, if only for a moment.
"What market?"
The thug looked at Karin like she'd revealed eyes in the back of her head.
"What do you mean, 'what market'? Were you born yesterday or something, chick?"
Karin bit back the urge to say yes, and let the thug finish instead.
"Ever since those demons got here and wrecked a huge chunk of the Rukongai, labor has been in huge demand over in the ruined areas. Problem is, those haughty bastards over in the Seireitei don't give a shit about us rats, so they haven't sent anyone to help us out. But that's fine by us, 'cause the market's opened up for cheap workers."
Karin was getting tired of listening to this punk, so she cut him off and finished the thought.
"So you kidnap people and sell them into slavery? That's disgusting."
The thug scoffed.
"You're pretty uppity for a girl, let alone one from the 78th District. Do you really think you stand a chance against all four of us?"
Knowing that actions spoke much louder than words, Karin held her zanpakuto out so that it was perpendicular to her body and charged, finding to her great satisfaction that she ran much faster here than she had in the Human World. Putting the flat side of her zanpakuto up to the thug's neck, she looked him right in the eye and smirked.
"Yeah," she said, "I think I stand a chance."
What Karin had forgotten about in her confidence was that the thug was holding a sword, the blade of which was now cutting through her unprotected chest. Launching back as fast as she could, the dark-eyed Kurosaki looked down at the gash on her chest in shock, shame and anger; she had been overconfident, and she had suffered for it.
That was one mistake she would never make again. Looking up from her wound with her dark eyes pulsating in rage, Karin flipped her zanpakuto around so that the blade was pointing outwards.
"You're going to pay dearly for that, punk," she snarled, dashing forward with killing intent flashing in her eyes.
Now we're talking, kid, her zanpakuto's voice echoed in her head, but Karin blocked it out so that she could turn her complete attention to her strike.
And what a strike it was.
If the zanpakuto had been katana-length, it would have torn the poor thug clean in half. As it stood, the short sword ripped through his frame and followed through with terrifying grace, snapping sideways to force the blood off of its blade. As the shocked thug staggered backward and spit up some blood before falling to the ground and convulsing violently, the other three criminals scattered like the rats they were to the four winds. Karin walked over to the injured thug's prone form slowly, wincing slightly at the pain coming from her cut but forcing it out of her mind. When she was looming over the boy, he coughed pathetically and spoke.
"Who… w—who the hell are you, bitch?"
"My name is Karin, you piece of trash. Karin Kurosaki."
The boy's eyes became wide as saucers as he heard the name, and suddenly he realized, all too late, that insulting this girl had been a terrible idea.
"Kuros—aki? Heh, I get it now; you must be related to Ichigo Kurosaki. That guy has quite a reputation… I heard they dragged him over here ta—ugh—to fight the demons, but who knows…"
Karin's own eyes widened at the mention of her brother's name and she grabbed the thug by the folds of his blood-soaked kimono, shaking him forcefully.
"Ichigo!? You know my brother? Where is he? Damnit, where is he!?"
For being the daughter of a doctor, it was surprising that Karin didn't realize shaking a guy who was bleeding to death was not the best of ideas. The thug fell silent under the assault and his head lulled to the side under the weight of death's embrace, eyes rolling back in his head.
The understanding that she had just claimed her second life in less than a day hit the young Kurosaki like a ton of bricks, and she collapsed to her knees in anger and sorrow. Before she could openly grieve, however, a sound reached her ears from behind her that was so foreign given the situation that it shocked her tears right back into her eyes. Turning around, she saw a figure in a cloak with the hood up standing behind her…
Clapping?
It seemed perverse to Karin that anyone would actively take delight in such carnage, but then she reflected grimly that there was a part of her that had screamed in happiness when she had slashed up that punk. But that was in the past now, and the present was all about the cloaked man in front of her, who had stopped clapping and now spoke, his voice even and calculated.
"Very nicely done, Miss Kurosaki. Making a mark like that without even calling out your zanpakuto… very impressive indeed. Then again, I wouldn't expect anything less from a sister of the great Ichigo Kurosaki."
"You know my brother, too?" Karin asked, now wondering just how famous her irritating sibling was over here. The cloaked figure laughed, and the sound made Karin's hair stand up on end.
"Do I know him? Yes, I'd say that I do; quite well, actually. He's tried to kill me on a number of occasions."
Karin's mouth dropped open slightly at that.
"He's tried to what-now?"
"Did I stutter, young one? I said that he's tried to kill me on a number of occasions. Fortunately, he's such an idiot that he never hit me in the right place. Or maybe he was being merciful on purpose, but that really don't matter now, does it?"
Karin looked at this strange figure, whose face she couldn't even see, awed by his peculiarity.
"Why are you here?" she asked, and the man sighed.
"I'm not entirely sure myself," he answered. "I was just out walking around, and I felt myself being pulled towards your reiatsu. Seemed like the right place to be, you know?"
Karin didn't know, but she nodded her head anyway.
"So," the cloaked figure continued, "what's the name of that there zanpakuto?"
The dark-eyed Kurosaki shrugged.
"Your guess is as good as mine, mister."
The figure took a step back, surprised.
"You don't know its name? No, no, no, that'll never do; not for someone of your family." The man thought for a moment, then clapped his long, slender hands together once in recognition of a great discovery.
"I'll tell ya what," he said. "Since I owe your pesky brother a debt that I can't repay him right now for a bunch'a reasons, I'll just train you to get to know that wakizashi of yours better and we'll call it even. Whaddaya say?"
Karin was shocked by the forwardness and generosity of this strange figure, but despite the odd sense that something was just… off with the guy, she wasn't exactly in a position to be looking gift horses in the mouth.
"Sure… yeah, that would be great." Karin said, and then she remembered something.
"Before we start, though, could you tell me your name?"
The figure gave Karin a smile she could feel from under the hood and raised his hands, lifting the obstructing garment from his face to reveal high cheekbones and a thin nose framed on either side by piercing, blood-red eyes. The man's head was topped by shockingly silver hair, and his mouth was twisted into a smirk that made Karin's stomach do somersaults.
"My name is Gin Ichimaru," the man said, his smirk disappearing as his face turned deadly serious,
"But you can call me Sensei."
Seireitei—The Council of War
Saika drew in a breath, and began to speak.
"As I'm sure some of your are aware, around 120 years ago, I was critically wounded in a battle with a Hollow and dragged down to Hell."
Byakuya winced with his eyes at the memory of his best friend sacrificing himself for his sake, but the twinge of emotion was repressed as quickly as it had emerged.
"When I arrived there, I was just one out of many souls, but my power quickly separated me from everyone else. I caught the attention of the Baron of the Eighth Circle, Lord Mortos Rovinarus, and was subjected to a series of tests to determine if I was fit to become one of his soldiers."
Both Ulquiorra and Grimmjow noticed the bitterness with which Aron had mentioned his father's name, but they were curious as to why he didn't mention the connection between himself and the Baron. Shrugging mentally, they assumed their leader's reasons were his own and didn't press the matter.
"I passed with flying colors, and became a private in his personal army. I rose through the ranks to General in a short time, and was soon immersed in the territorial wars that dominate the shifting, feudal landscape of Hell. The bloodshed became my life, war became routine, and it stayed that way until recently, when my b—when Prince Callos, Mortos' son, decided that Rukia Kuchiki was to be his next bride."
The near-slip flew over nearly everyone's head, except for the two former Espada, the regal Kuchiki and Yoruichi Shihoin. Resolving to ask him about it later, the golden-eyed princess held her tongue and let Saika continue.
"I was appointed as Rukia's bodyguard, and my position as General was assumed by our near and dear friend, Sosuke Aizen."
The mention of that name drew gasps of surprise and anger out of several of the assembled Soul Reapers, but Saika raised his hands and the swell fell silent.
"As far as I know, Aizen has been permanently de-powered by Mortos for attempted treason, and is now being used for target practice. As usual, his reach seems to have far exceeded his grasp."
That calmed down the group of Soul Reapers considerably, and some of them chuckled. Bringing himself back to his tale, Saika pressed on.
"Soon enough, Ichigo Kurosaki decided it would be a great idea to barge down into Hell without a plan, although he did manage to drag Lieutenant Abarai along with him for backup. To make a long story short, they mucked it up and got the five of us thrown in jail. We busted out, saved Rukia, and hauled ass back here. Unfortunately, our escape and 'abduction' of Rukia finally gave Mortos the reason he had been waiting for to launch his invasion of Soul Society. The one person who might try to sabotage his operation from the inside, that being me, was out of the picture. His son, Prince Callos, was given command of the force, which includes the elite troops known as the Four Horsemen, and passed through the Gates into the Human World. From there they entered Soul Society, which brings us to the here-and-now, having successfully fended off the first attack led by the Greater Demon Tarsin."
"No doubt your expertise in the field of demonic combat will be of much help in the coming battles, Aron-san," Yamamoto rumbled, "but I have a question. Why, if Prince Callos was given command of the army, did he not lead the attack?"
A voice spoke in response, but it was not Saika who answered.
"He did not lead the attack because I was dueling him at the time."
All eyes in the room turned to Captain Toshiro Hitsugaya, who stood proud in the face of the scrutiny.
"And why, pray tell, did you leave your post unannounced during what you knew was soon to become an emergency, to fight a duel against an enemy you had no authorization to engage?"
Toshiro flinched under the gaze of the Captain-Commander, but he did not give any ground.
"Because Hyorinmaru told me to, Sir."
Yamamoto laughed gruffly at that, his voice laced with subtle scorn.
"Your zanpakuto gave you orders, and you heeded them? Captain Hitsugaya, a Soul Reaper's mastery over the will of their zanpakuto in the form of bankai is the most basic test of the Captaincy, and you tell me that your sword has regained dominance? That is almost shameful."
It was understandable that Toshiro would be furious in the face of such thinly-veiled contempt, but what happened next was something no one other than Saika and his two Captains could predict.
Ice consumed every inch of Toshiro's haori, hardening it into a kind of regal suit of armor. Spikes of ice crowned his shoulders, and as the final proof of his transformation his normally green eyes turned a deep, brilliant blue as his reiatsu spiked massively. The increase sent Matsumoto to her knees, along with every other Lieutenant present except for Renji.
"If you have taken issue with something concerning us, child, I suggest you bring it up with me."
Most of the Captains stared in shock, while Saika just smirked.
"I was wondering when you'd show up, Lord Hyorinmaru," he said, although he would dearly regret speaking very shortly. The Heavenly Guardian looked over at him and snorted, speaking in a half-growl.
"Who let demon trash like you in here, Prince Rovinarus?"
Saika's eyes widened in shock and fear for a few seconds before narrowing to dangerously murderous slits, his hand on Oujiscuro's hilt. When he felt Yoruichi back away from him reflexively as she connected the dots, the orange-eyed prince snapped. Activating his shikai without even calling it out, he charged at Hyorinmaru as the dragon mimicked the gesture and the two titans clashed in the middle of the hall, keeping their reiatsu to a minimum for the sake of the surrounding Soul Reapers and instead communicating all of their fury through their crossed zanpakuto. They might have started actively dueling if the door hadn't been unexpectedly and unceremoniously kicked down, revealing a being so powerful and seething with unchecked reiatsu so potent that it physically drove the two opponents apart and to their knees, Hyorinmaru's semi-divine powers notwithstanding.
After all, the person who had just entered the room was practically a God.
Ichigo Kurosaki walked into the room slowly, his eyes looking nowhere in particular; it was as if his mind was somewhere else entirely. Looking around almost lazily, the orange-haired Soul Reaper saw that his reiatsu was causing even Yamamoto some discomfort and drew it in with a heavy sigh, as if even that basic act exhausted him. The top part of his robes no longer existed, and the pants were heavily frayed at the bottom. His body was covered with cuts that his Hollow hadn't had time to fully heal, including the two massive gashes across his chest that made Rukia's heart clench. But despite his battered appearance, he still made everyone else in the room swallow nervously as he stood there, looking for all the world like Ares post-slaughter. Suddenly his head jerked over as if he'd remembered something important, and he spoke to Saika in a voice so flat it seemed devoid of all life.
"Oh, by the way, Saika, you can change the number of Horsemen to three. The pale bitch is outside."
His head shifted and he was looking straight ahead again, until he stopped and turned around with an odd look on his face.
"What day is it?"
Unohana was the first to overcome her awe and she spoke, the answer making Rukia's blood run cold.
"June the 17th, I believe."
She expected Ichigo to sputter, or collapse, or stagger, or frown, or cry, even, but what he did was the last thing she would have guessed.
He started to laugh.
It began as a low chuckle, disbelieving and mirthless, but it quickly escalated to a hysterical, soul-grating sound that had most of the Soul Reapers present thinking he was about to start foaming at the mouth. Rukia wanted more than anything to go to her loved one and comfort him, but Byakuya's hand held her still.
Eventually Ichigo's stricken laughter peaked and faded, just in time for him to reach the door on the other side of the room and lean against it, sliding it open at the same time.
"June 17th… what a day… one just wasn't enough for ya, huh?" he half-shouted as he walked through the door, leaving a room full of stunned Soul Reapers in his wake. None of them knew what was racing through Ichigo's mind at the moment except for Rukia, and even she only knew half of it. This day had now taken not one, but two family members from Ichigo Kurosaki, and he felt responsible for both of them. Rukia flash-stepped after Ichigo as soon as Byakuya relaxed his hold on her, determined to figure out what was plaguing him. She'd never seen him this undone before, and she's seen many June 17ths since she had begun living with the Kurosaki clan.
Saika was the first to break the silence, flash-stepping outside to see what Ichigo had been talking about. When he saw the grisly sight that awaited him, he barely held back retching and returned to the hall.
"Someone needs to go get that corpse off of our front lawn," he said, closing his eyes and trying to force the image of Death impaled on her own scythe from his mind.
He was never, ever going to piss of Ichigo Kurosaki. Opening his eyes again, they took on a sad look as he spoke again.
"I was going to tell everyone about my origins at a later time, after I had fully come to grips with them myself. I've only known about who, or what, I really am for a short time, and I still don't know what to think about it. However," he said, looking directly at Yoruichi as he continued, "I can understand if my being half-demon strikes any of you as repugnant, and anyone who does not approve of my being here has only to say so, and I'll walk right out this door without looking back."
Yoruichi looked conflicted for a few moments and Saika's heart skipped a few beats, but then she came to some kind of internal decision and calmed down, giving him a look that said a bunch of things, but most prominent among them was 'If you leave, you're a dead man.'
Aron gulped at that, but diverted his focus from his lover to the impassive visage of his best friend. Byakuya's face was unreadable as usual, and Saika was in no mood for suspense.
"Well? Don't you have anything to say, Byakuya?"
Aron expected any of a number of responses, from 'Don't call me that, scum,' to 'Get out of my sight, you filth,' but as today was apparently Unexpected Day in Soul Society, Byakuya gave his friend the smallest of smiles, one only he could see.
"I always knew there was something odd about you," he said evenly, as if that answered everything. For Saika, it answered enough, and he smiled. Toshiro, having returned to as normal as he was going to be, turned to the demon prince and spoke.
"For what it's worth," he said humbly, "I apologize for my actions a moment ago. They were inexcusable, and I am sorry."
Aron just shrugged.
"You were not yourself," he replied. "It is forgiven. Besides, it wouldn't be right if two Captains of the same Division were at each other's throats all the time, right?"
Hitsugaya gave a weak smile at that, still drained from the power burst Hyorinmaru had used. Gathering what was left of his wits about him, Saika looked over at the remarkably calm Yamamoto and spoke.
"Despite the ludicrously awkward turn this morning's meeting has taken, Sir, I am sure that I do not need to remind you that we still have an enemy at our gates. And despite the fact that Ichigo Kurosaki, through some miracle, has managed to defeat one of the Four Horsemen in battle, I have no doubt that my brother will soon send the remaining three down upon us without mercy. Might I suggest that we take whatever few precious hours we have remaining to us before the onslaught to ready our defenses, so that we aren't caught completely unprepared?"
Yamamoto's expression was as indecipherable as ever, but Saika thought he could see the traces of a smile on his face if he squinted.
"Your counsel is indeed prudent, Aron-sama," the Captain-Commander said, no doubt changing the honorific to reflect the fact that Saika was royalty, and quite possibly the heir to one of the strongest positions in Hell. The orange-eyed prince grimaced at the title, though, and closed his eyes halfway.
"Please don't use that title around me," he said. "I want nothing to do with that throne, or those who would lay claim to it."
Yamamoto's smile widened, his eyes opening in a rare display of satisfaction.
"Very well, Aron-san," he said, and while Saika was a bit upset that the honorific had been a test of sorts, he was still glad that he had passed. The Soul Reapers took the exchange between the orange-eyed prince and Yamamoto to mean that the Council was adjourned, and they broke off to muster their Divisions for the coming battle. Only Yoruichi stayed where she was, silently asking her former Lieutenant to join her. Saika obeyed the request at once, and broke the silence with the question he'd wanted to ask for the last few minutes.
"Why didn't you just tell me to leave?"
His voice was soft and disbelieving, and Yoruichi answered it with the comforting, slightly maternal tone that had always been able to draw Saika out of even the deepest funk.
"That's a stupid question, kid," she said, putting one of her hands delicately on his chest like she had so many years ago when she'd first met him, and just like then Aron had a hard time suppressing a shiver.
"Just because you're a half-demon, that doesn't mean your heart is any different because of that, unless you want it to change. Hell, I'm not exactly normal myself; how many other shape-shifters do you know?"
This brought out the smile she had been looking for, and Saika gave her a quick kiss in gratitude before retuning to Captain mode.
"We should get going; they're probably almost done by now."
Yoruichi stepped back and nodded, and the two of them vanished in unison. The great hall was now empty except for Yamamoto, who shifted his gaze to the horizon and tightened his grip on Ryujinn Jakka.
"I have an ill feeling about today, old friend," he said. "You may yet drink blood before the sun sets."
Rukia entered the room that functioned as Ichigo's whenever he visited Soul Society for any considerable length of time and closed the door softly behind her, not wanting to be disturbed. Looking across the room, she saw Ichigo sitting on the bed with his head facing the wall and walked lightly over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist supportively once she'd sat down next to him. After a moment he turned and looked at her, the bottomless pits that were his eyes almost making her cry just by seeing them. When Ichigo spoke, however, any tears Rukia might have been holding in were frozen by the shiver that coursed through her body.
"Karin is dead."
"What?" Rukia asked, her voice light and incredulous.
Ichigo did not nod, or give any sign that he had heard her speak; Rukia might just as well have not even been there.
"My little sister is dead, and I saw her die. I watched her die and I did nothing. I couldn't do anything, Rukia. I couldn't do anything!"
He punctuated his last word with an anguished, animalistic growl that was accompanied by a much more fearsome spike in his reiatsu. When he had calmed back down, Rukia saw with dread that his eyes were now black and yellow, hidden behind his red-streaked mask.
"I'm going to make them pay, Rukia," he said in a chilling voice that left no room for doubt. "I'm going to hunt them down, to the man, and make them beg for mercy."
The young Kuchiki looked into Ichigo's eyes and saw the pain there, the rage that was the only thing holding him up at the moment. Determined to let him know that he wasn't alone, Rukia grabbed a handful of his hair and leaned forward, pressing her lips against his mask. Ichigo broke down the part covering his mouth and reciprocated with a hunger and desperation she had never felt from him before. When she broke away from him, all of Ichigo's mask had faded away and he looked at her with those brown eyes she knew so well, a mixture of awe and love shining in them.
"I'm here for you, Ichigo," she said seriously, "always. And don't ever forget that, or I'll smack the crap out of you until you remember."
A smile that Rukia had been waiting to see for what felt like years crept across the orange-haired Soul Reaper's face, a true, genuine smile. He moved forward and gave Rukia a bone-crushing embrace, whispering in her ear as he did so.
"I love you, Rukia Kuchiki."
The violet-eyed Soul Reaper didn't bother wiping away the small tears that appeared in her eyes and began to roll down her cheeks, instead returning the embrace with all of her might.
"I love you, too, Ichigo Kurosaki."
Ichigo broke apart the embrace reluctantly, pulling on his mask once more. This time, however, his eyes weren't nearly as full of rage. Instead, a warrior's calm permeated every pore of his being, and he spoke in a tone that told Rukia he was smirking under his mask.
"Let's go," he said. "We wouldn't want Byakuya to get the wrong idea and dice me to bits, now would we?"
Rukia laughed and the two friends melted into the air, ready to face whatever came their way.
They were together, after all.
A/N: Damn, that turned out much longer than I thought it was going to. I hope it didn't drag, or if it did, it wasn't unbearable. Next chapter's going to be more action-oriented, with the arrival of some new enemies to challenge Ulquiorra and Grimmjow, specifically.
And speaking of Grimmjow, the whole Grim/Soi Fon thing is just something I thought up over the weekend, when I was thinking about which one of the (female) Soul Reapers was most like him. I mean, Soi Fon has the emotional restraint that Jaegerjaques lacks, but I think that in terms of goals and ambitions, they're pretty alike. It'll be fun seeing their rivalry develop, to say the least.
Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and as always, Please Review, because that's really what keeps me writing this behemoth when I could be doing other things, like schoolwork.
Thanks for sticking with this story so far, and hopefully I'll see you next time!