On the Run

Part two of a fanfiction by Velkyn Karma

Disclaimer: I do not own, or pretend to own, Bleach and any related characters or concepts. That right belongs to Tite Kubo alone. All that belongs to me here is the concept for the story.

"Nothing is more painful to the human mind than, after the feelings have been worked up by a quick succession of events, the dead calmness of inaction and certainty which follows and deprives the soul both of hope and fear."

--Victor, Frankenstein

Kon ran for hours. Time was hard to judge, especially in his panicked state, but he could certainly tell it was getting late when he saw his shadow stretched out far to his left. The sun was going down; he guessed it would be dark in an hour or two.

He wished he could stop, but he knew it wasn't an option. He hadn't been running full-sprint for hours; he didn't think even he as a mod-soul was capable of it. Hell, he doubted even Ichigo could do it as a soul-reaper, and they had a different kind of fatigue altogether. He sprinted for a while, zipping down roads, up alleys, past shops. He shot by stunned people who could tell something had gone past but weren't skilled enough to see anything more than a human-sized blur. He muttered to himself rapidly under his breath, trying to figure out which turns to take and why those people were even after him to begin with. How had they found him? When he could tell he was reaching his limit, he would slow down to a marathon gait, straining endurance but not winding himself completely. And after the last fiasco when he'd stolen Ichigo's body the first time, he was careful to make the switch only in places where people couldn't see him. Kon liked the attention--loved, actually, would be the better word, he admitted to himself--but if he was being pursued by two high-level shinigami, attention was the last thing he needed.

But even though he was far faster than any human, and indeed faster than most shinigami in a full-out sprint, it was impossible to shake his pursuers. The first time he had sprinted merely to the outskirts of Karakura and then circled it, hoping he had ditched his unwanted hunters. But just when he was beginning to think he was in the clear and was congratulating himself loudly on losing 'those pathetic freaks,' he had felt that strange, invasive energy once again, the same one that had clawed at him moments before the arrival of his two pursuers. And sure enough, only moments later the two had reappeared, grinning wickedly as they ran towards him.

Kon yelped loudly, but he hadn't hesitated. He didn't really want to leave Karakura town. The farther he got from it, the less chance Rukia-neesan, or even that stupid Ichigo, would have to find him and help him. But if he stayed here, he was going to die. So when he had seen those two dangerous men jogging towards him once again, he had spun on his heel in mid-step and bolted, forcing himself into a full sprint once again. He heard something crack behind him, saw something smash into the buildings in front of him, and understood then that one of them, at least, had a ranged weapon. He nearly bit Ichigo's tongue, clamping his teeth together in an extreme effort not to start yelling and give away his position even further, though the shot had startled him badly. After that, he had dodged behind buildings, shifted position constantly, and did anything else he could to break up line of sight while running at top speed away from his home.

His home. Funny, that. Just this morning he would have done almost anything to get out of the clinic, and now that he was free of it, he wanted nothing more than to go back. It really was home.

But he didn't know where home was now, many hours later. He didn't even know where he was, much to his dismay. Kon had alternated between endurance running and all-out sprinting, but he had never once stopped moving after that unfortunate meeting. And while he could occasionally feel that invasive power brushing at his heels--it had to be some sort of tracking ability, he realized now--it occurred less and less the longer he went.

And he went through quite a few places, too. Karakura eventually faded to suburbs, which in turn faded to wide country that eventually built back into more suburbs. Kon had cut through the fields, over peoples' lawns, and dodged at a whim down different roads, doing anything he could to shake off his pursuers and make his path less predictable.

Now it was nearly dark, and Kon found himself in another city. It felt a bit similar to Karakura, but much bigger, and a little more crowded. He didn't know the name of it. To be honest, he didn't much care. The mod-soul had other concerns on his mind at the moment.

For starters, his hijacked body was exhausted. Mod-souls could enhance physical human bodies far past their natural limits, but it didn't mean they were utterly invulnerable. Kon's endurance and ability lasted far longer than a normal human's, but he could still tire, even in a strong body such as Ichigo's. After running for several hours straight, often at his top speed, even Kon's enhanced legs were beginning to feel shaky. He needed to rest, and soon, or he wouldn't be able to keep running if he had to. Dammit, but human bodies were such a pain!

The problem was, he didn't know if he had the time to rest. He was sure he had outrun the shinigami, or at any rate he had outdistanced their search spell. And he had taken enough crazy twists and turns to hope he had thrown them off. But Kon wasn't about to be foolishly optimistic. Those soul-reapers had been out for his blood; they wanted him dead, considered him worthless, and had pursued him doggedly for hours. He doubted they would give up so easily, and he had a feeling they would find him, probably sooner than later. He didn't want to give them that opportunity. He didn't want to die, and he knew it was likely he wouldn't get away again. He only had the first time because they had underestimated him, a mistake they were unlikely to make again.

It became a terrifying paradox. He had to rest, so he could run; but he had to run, so he could get far enough from them to rest. It frightened him.

His other problem, he realized soon after entering the city, was food. Food was not something he had a good deal of experience with, as a mod-soul. He himself was consumed more often than he ate; his natural form, the pill, had no use for food, nor did the stuffed lion form. On rare occasions he had been forced to pretend to be Ichigo while the temporary soul-reaper left before dinner, but he could usually take some food up to the room and eat it, or be content to wait until Ichigo came back. The rumbling stomach was, at most, a nuisance, but not a necessity.

Now it was vital. He had expended a lot of Ichigo's physical energy in the run, and though some of it had been supplemented by Kon's own spiritual enhancement strength, the body was still in dire need of nourishment. His stomach rumbled painfully, and his throat was dry and sticky, making it hard to swallow. Kon mumbled tiredly under his breath, complained angrily at Ichigo's stomach, and told it firmly to shut up, but it did not listen and continued to beg for food mercilessly.

But like sleep, he had no way to obtain food, either. Kon had checked, but Ichigo's wallet wasn't in his pants pockets, and the mod-soul seemed to vaguely recall it sitting on the desk back home. No wallet meant no money, and no money meant no food. He supposed he could try to steal it, but his body felt clumsy; there was no way he would be able to pull of a heist without being spotted, and attention was the last thing he needed.

He wandered for an hour, stumbling through the streets against crowds of people, talking to himself to keep himself moving, grimacing at the glares of distaste and annoyance he received from other humans. It was as though they knew what he was, though he logically understood they didn't. To them, he just looked like a normal teenager...well, almost normal, except for Ichigo's bright-orange hair. They couldn't see that he was an artificial soul, and their glares weren't condemning him for being born.

But it felt that way all the same.

In the end, Kon gave up on salvaging dinner. Instead, as darkness fully descended, he ducked into an unlit alley and curled up in the farthest, blackest corner he could find, more collapsing than laying down. Kon was unfamiliar enough with the human world not to realize what a dangerous situation he had placed himself in; he didn't know that alleys were considered dangerous, or that he was incredibly vulnerable here. All he knew was that in his dark little corner, the glares of the night-life outside wouldn't reach him, and they couldn't condemn him for his decision to live.

It was chilly, he realized, when Ichigo's body suddenly began shivering. Temperature really was an obnoxious thing to deal with. Kon enhanced the body, but his very placement within it allowed it to perform its usual automatic functions--including shivering to try and gain warmth, or the almost inaudible whimper that escaped its lips from the discomfort. Funny, how it was so hot earlier, but it was getting so cool now. Grimacing, he curled up tighter, wished desperately that he had one of Ichigo's nice, warm blankets, and tried to sleep.

His last thought was that if Ichigo found him now, the guy would surely kick his ass. Somehow, the thought was comforting, and he drifted off into a dreamless, exhausted doze.

"I did warn you that keeping that mod-soul would only bring you trouble, you know," Kisuke Urahara said sensibly.

Ichigo scowled at the man, but soon returned to analyzing the surroundings curiously. They were standing in a tiny, unremarkable-looking shop, with unremarkable-looking employees surrounding them; one older man with braids, and two kids. Ichigo would have called the place a waste of time, except that every single one of them could see him, still in his soul-reaper state. That meant there was a hell of a lot of powerful spiritual pressures here, which meant maybe Rukia was on to something.

They had arrived here only a few minutes ago, a half hour after their discovery of the missing Kon. They had remained behind in the clinic only long enough for Rukia to straighten the house up as best she could and leave a note for his family 'from Ichigo,' since he himself couldn't really interact with the world. It only stated that he was going to his friend's house, maybe to stay over for a few days, but hopefully it would be enough. After that she had stuffed a few necessary items into a small knapsack and given Ichigo directions, and here they were now.

"I'm aware of that," Rukia snapped back, a little harshly, and Ichigo broke out of his reverie. She was tapping her foot in annoyance, but otherwise seemed to be keeping remarkably calm against the seedy shopkeep. "Though, your initial warning was that the mod-soul itself would be the one to cause trouble. He's being chased here."

"To be honest, you really have no proof of that," Urahara said, almost cheerfully. "Perhaps this other shinigami you spoke of was the catalyst, but your mod-soul is still on the loose in the end. Well, you said yourself when you reclaimed him that I wasn't responsible for the mess, so I don't see how it's any of my business!"

Rukia's eye twitched. "I'm not here to force you to react out of responsibility. I'm here as a paying customer requesting specific goods. I'm sure you have some clever way to find him. You showed up quite conveniently last time to try and reclaim him yourself."

"My, my...what are you suggesting, Miss Kuchiki?"

"You know exactly what I'm suggesting. If you're worried about funds, understand that I will pay as a customer, but I will leave with whatever device or information you used to track him last time."

"You drive a hard bargain, Miss Kuchiki," Urahara said with a chuckle. "Well, I suppose I can attempt to help you out, at least, as a valued customer. I don't claim to be an expert on modification-souls myself, but I suppose I understand a thing or two about them." He smiled pleasantly. "Naturally, such information is not exactly cheap..."

"I understand."

"Well, then!" Waving a hand absently, the shopkeep gestured to the air as he considered where to start. "Mod-souls are an interesting little invention. Even with a low amount of spiritual pressure they are still fully capable of enhancing a human body far beyond its natural limits. All of them were designed with low spirit-pressures in order to keep their danger level to the Society at a minimum--or at least, that was the theory. However, the Society would naturally still need to keep tabs on them, so they designed a different sort of way to track mod-souls on missions."

"And that is?"

"They emit a different form of energy, and only strongly when actively using their abilities. This keeps hollows from being able to sense their presences--especially the ambush-class mod-souls--but still allows the Society to keep track of them, theoretically."

"A different form of energy?" Rukia looked puzzled.

"That's right. It's on a completely different wavelength from the normal spiritual-pressure sensing most shinigami are capable of using. With time one can learn to sense it as well, but it does take a little practice. The idea was that commanding officers with mod-souls under their command could simply use a device keyed to their mod-souls to keep an eye on them, like a highly tuned radar. However, when Spearhead was scrapped, all research and technology in relation to the mod-souls, as well as the souls themselves, were destroyed."

Rukia frowned. "So you don't have a way to track him after all."

"Aaah, Miss Kuchiki, give me a little credit here! As you say, I did show up rather conveniently to recapture your mod-soul. I know how to sense this other energy, you see? It would take far too long to teach you; it's a very complicated process. But I suppose I could alter a soul-pager for you to track your elusive mod-soul instead...provided, naturally, that you follow a few rules and regulations regarding it."

Rukia's face brightened slightly. "I'm willing to listen to your conditions."

"Very good! The first is that you must destroy it as soon as you find your escaped soul. I'm free of responsibility to it, remember. I'd rather not have any technology regarding it pointing back to me, hmm?"

"Understandable."

"The second," the shopkeep continued, "is that you'll have to wait several hours. I can't feel any mod-souls in Karakura Town, which means it's escaped to the outside. You said it was an ambush-underpod class, didn't you? Unsurprising. When you said it was on the run, it probably is literally on the run. It'll be especially difficult to track without any signature to input into the modified soul-pager, but at least it'll light up once it's finished. I doubt it'll stop running for a while. Underpods were always flighty, so I hear."

Ichigo scowled at the store owner. He was getting tired of all this it talk. Kon was alive, wasn't he? And he was definitely male, if his attraction to breasts was any indication. So why did they keep referring to him as a thing? He was about to speak up, but Rukia shot him a warning look and he snapped his mouth shut sullenly.

Rukia was now digging into her knapsack. "About the signature," she said. "Would this help speed up the process?" And she withdrew from the bag the yellow lion plush toy that Kon usually inhabited when he wasn't in Ichigo's own body.

"A toy?"

"It acts as Kon's host when he isn't used for soul-transfer duties," Rukia explained.

Urahara laughed. "Interesting!" he chuckled. "If only the Society could see it now. I don't think they had intended for animated toys when the mod-souls were designed." He looked thoughtful. "Though, I bet they would be a killer on the market..."

"Forget that! Will this cut the process-time down?"

Urahara held out his hand in answer, and Rukia handed over the limp plush lion. The shopkeep examined the toy with obvious interest, turning it first this way, then that. Then, much to their surprise, he pressed the plush to his ear, displacing his hat. He seemed to be listening intently for a very long time, and then he nodded.

"I think it'll do," he finally answered. "It's a weak signature, but this body has been inhabited long enough that I can use it. This will cut process-time down to two hours, I think."

"Good. Please get started, then."

"Now, now," Urahara said, waving his hand once again. "There's no need to rush. Shouldn't we discuss the matter of pricing first?"

Once again, Ichigo audibly groaned.

And there is chapter two.

The 'its' versus 'he's' are actually based on the manga/anime itself. In all versions that I've seen/read, Kisuke always referred to the then-nameless Kon as a 'thing' while Ichigo always uses 'he' or 'him.' Rukia seems to switch back and forth until Kon's actually named.

I notice a number of you are watching this fic without actually leaving reviews. Please, by all means, let me know why you even chose to watch it to begin with! I like to know what I'm doing that attracts readers. This is why I like reviews: not as a popularity count, but as a source of improvement. What did you like about this fic that made you want to keep an eye on it? What is done well? What do you think can be improved? This is VERY good for me to know, you see!

--VelkynKarma