On the Run

Part six 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.

"Don't run, you'll only die tired."

~Army snipers

Half a day later, only a little while after the sun had completely set, Kon was ready to curse himself with his own stupidity.

He still didn't know where he was, in the grand scheme of things. All he knew was that three and a half days ago he'd left Karakura, and now he was somewhere else entirely. It was another city, or at any rate a huge town, that reminded him of the one he called home.

But he'd been foolish in getting there. Unlike his first day of running, in which he zigzagged, doubled back, took random turns, and did anything he could to throw his trail off, he'd simply run straight along the road from one town to the city, not even bothering to hide his trail. And when he'd arrived, he'd unhesitatingly gone for the food district, scrounging for scraps that he desperately needed.

What had he said about avoiding ambush? He'd run into it like a damn fool. Of course it was predictable; he went in a straight line, and the shinigami knew he needed to eat. He was loosing focus, becoming far too easy to figure out, and it was going to kill him.

Possibly entirely literally. He hadn't even noticed them until it was too late, because they didn't use their seeker kido. Perhaps they had finally figured out this was what tipped him off to their presence, but this time they had simply lain in wait at the food district and watched him stumble drunkenly to the nearest food-dumpster he could find. It was easy to cut off his escape. The dumpsters were in the alleyway, after all.

Kon wasn't even sure how he survived the initial attack. Perhaps some shred of instinct was left in his mind, or Ichigo's body, that hadn't been swallowed by the desperate, mechanical need to run, sleep, and eat. He dodged Shichi's image-sword swing, barely, and stumbled backwards. His legs, once so powerful and deadly, collapsed underneath him, unable to hold even his own weight.

Shichi leapt forward in triumph, raised the strange red energy-katana high as though to stab down at him viciously, leaning over him. Kon saw the sword raising high, like a guillotine, saw his own death reflected in Shichi's. The shoulder-wound burned, screaming, eating away at his spiritual insides, tearing him to pieces as it resonated with the weapon so close, so very close, too close.

And then Kon's very last shred of will rose to the surface. He had one more chance; one chance filled with panic, terror, desperation, and above all desire, but a chance nonetheless. As Shichi raised the blade high, Kon screamed-loudly, wildly through Ichigo's parched, cracked throat, a mixed sound of anger, fear, and will-and kicked, with all the strength he could muster, straight up into the man's body.

Compared to some of Kon's other kicks in previous months, against varying hollows, this one was nearly powerless. But that was not to say it was completely ineffective, for it was also fueled with pure desperation, the desire to live above all else, and Kon found unexpected strength where he hadn't in days. Ichigo's foot, enhanced with his own spirit, found the man's chest and kept going. There was a horrific crack, and Shichi fell back with a shriek, collapsing to the ground. He didn't move again.

Terror welled up inside Kon's mind. Even now, even with them trying to steal his life away, his mind desperately repeated please don't let him be dead, please, please, over and over. The body had other ideas. Fueled by desire and piloted by instinct, Ichigo's body picked itself up, scrabbling weakly to its feet, and darted for the exit to the alley, still running off the unexpected energy surge he had gained from who only knew where. Juusan let him pass, throwing aside his weapon as he darted forward to tend to his wounded companion.

Please don't let him be dead.

He was running, and he didn't even know where anymore. All he knew was that he was moving, and he just had to keep moving. If he stopped, he would think about what he might have just done. If he stopped, he knew he wouldn't get this exhausted, nearly broken body moving again. If he stopped, he would succumb to his pain, his hunger, his fear, and his exhaustion.

If he stopped, he would die.

Hours later they were still tracking Kon, but Ichigo felt much more subdued now. Before, it had felt a little too much like Kon's previous jaunt out in his body; annoying, but not life threatening.

But now, after their encounter with the two hunters, and Rukia's explanations, the whole situation felt that much worse. This wasn't a stupid prank or annoying game on Kon's part. This was really, truly dangerous, and Kon's very existence-not to mention the health of his own physical body-was at risk.

Ichigo still wanted to pound Shichi and Juusan's faces in, just to make himself feel better, but understood the necessity of not taking that course of action...much as it pained him to do so. Rukia had explained the need for diplomacy to the best of her ability (thankfully without her imagery to accompany it).

"They're employed by the Soul Society," she had explained a few hours ago, as they began to track Kon once more. To save on funds, once they knew which direction to take they had picked a train and ridden on it's surface instead of inside, but neither had minded. "The badges that they showed you are called 'Seals of Approval for Acting Shinigami.' They're not official shinigami in the sense that they haven't passed through the Academy, and they don't use quite the same abilities that we do. But the Society recognizes them as capable of completing shinigami tasks, and offers them the badges as a license."

"So they're not real shinigami?" Ichigo had asked, confused.

"Not exactly. That's why they were deferring to you so much. Acting Shinigami almost always have a rank lower than even the lowest of the Academy-trained reapers."

"So, what the hell? If they're not even soul-reapers, why can't I just trash'em and be done with it?"

"It's not that easy," Rukia had explained in frustration. "They're not official, but they still report to the Soul Society. Imagine if you beat them and we recovered Kon that way. They would still go back to the Society and report it. The Society would inevitably investigate, and then not only would Kon be found and destroyed anyway, but you would be in trouble for impersonating a shinigami, and I could get in trouble too."

"So...messing with them at all could cause us all to get in trouble in the long run."

"That's what I'm saying. That's why we need to find a way out of this without dragging the Society into it."

That conversation had happened a while ago, but it still grated on Ichigo's nerves. So far he'd been able to solve most of their shinigami-related problems through combat. If he couldn't fight them to save Kon and protect his own body, then what the hell was he supposed to do?

Rukia jumped up abruptly, pointing at the modified soul-pager and shouting over the roar of the train they rode atop. "He's shifting again!" She yelled. "He stopped in that city for barely five minutes. He's heading west now."

"So what now?" Ichigo shouted back, eyes narrowed.

"We're getting off here! He looks like he's heading in a straight line. If we jump now and head north-west, we should be able to cut him off in a little bit. He's moving a lot slower now, not at all his usual speed."

Ichigo barely hesitated. Rukia clung to his shoulders in a rough piggy-back and he leapt from the train, landing in the barren, open land they had been moving past for some time now. He kept running with her still on his back while she fiddled with the device in his ear, much to his annoyance.

"You think we can catch him?" He asked abruptly. "Even with his speed?"

"Like I said...he's not moving as fast as he had been. And based on the strategy those two said they were using, I'm not surprised. Sleep-deprivation, starvation, and they've injured him at least once...even with a mod-soul, and even in your body, nobody could last under those conditions forever. He's been more predictable of late, and he's been moving slower and for less time too...everything is taking its toll now." She frowned, and looked a little disgusted and a little worried at the same time.

Ichigo said nothing, but notably pushed himself for extra speed. No one could last forever; but they had to hope he lasted long enough for them to get there.

Kon hadn't stopped, not for nearly half an hour since that encounter. He was afraid of what would happen if he did.

He was at the outskirts of the city now, a roughly suburban area that would soon turn into a long country lane, if the way the buildings were spread out was any indication. He'd told himself that if he could reach that lane, he was set. On a straight road like that, he'd always been able to all-out sprint, eating up the miles and rapidly putting distance between himself and his pursuers. If he could get just a little distance, he could sleep for a while.

Sleep. He wanted it bad, so, so bad. He wanted to just drop where he was now, and just let himself fall into oblivion. If he did, though, he knew he would never get up again, and he couldn't afford that, not yet, not yet...

He was bearing right, towards the country lane, when he felt the first fringes of the locating spell once again. It, too, was on his right, in the direction he was heading. Panicky, he immediately turned off course, heading for a second road in a different direction. But here, too, the seeker kido made itself present, fingers reaching out for him like claws, searching, grasping. He veered away form this too, and half-stumbled, half-ran between them in a desperate effort to remain out of both search-spells' sights.

A very, very tiny part of his mind, the part that he had drawn so much of his will from before, told him he was being herded. He understood this, vaguely, and yet there was nothing else he could do. Couldn't stand and fight. Couldn't turn around. Couldn't lay down and die. All he could do was run, and run as far from the searching spells as he could.

And then, unexpectedly, he was there. The open ground was before him; no longer were there buildings, hills, or cars in his way, just an open stretch where he could unleash his full speed unhindered. Part of his mind screamed at him, Why would they want to herd you there? But he was too far gone to care anymore, and with the last of his strength he launched himself forward into as fast a sprint as he was capable of.

He understood the trap with unexpected despair when a lance of fiery, burning, life-shattering pain ripped through his leg. He looked down, hazy, bewildered, to discover one of the strange image-quarrels had punctured his leg. Only then did he really understand. Not only was open space good for him and his speed, but for a ranged shooter and their weapon.

A second bolt slammed into his wounded shoulder, causing him to shriek loudly, wildly, despairingly. Within moments he had slammed into the ground, jarring Ichigo's body painfully, and suddenly he knew he was at his limit. He had no more will, no more strength. The body had nothing left to give. His pursuers had finally outsmarted him, caught him. He could see them both approaching him now, both alive, out of the corner of one hazy-visioned eye.

He was going to die.

The thought felt like an admission of defeat, but he had nothing left to give. He'd lost. That was all there was to it. The shinigami were shrieking at him now; he thought Shichi might be kicking him, but he couldn't be sure. Well, at least he hadn't killed the man...

His last clear thought was that if his family-and he supposed they really were a family-could see him now, they'd be furious at seeing him give up so quickly. "Well, I tried," he muttered tiredly, and waited patiently for the darkness to come.

They hadn't been running for long when Rukia suddenly gasped. He had set her down some ten minutes ago, once she had re-confirmed their course with the modified soul-pager, and now she was running alongside him. Now she abruptly froze.

"What?" he said in surprise, doubling back. "What is it?"

"Those other two!" Rukia said sharply. "They're close I can feel them converging as well. There." She pointed. The terrain they were in was a bit hilly and rocky, and she was gesturing over one of the hills to some location he couldn't see.

"Kon's there too?"

"I'm pretty sure," Rukia confirmed, after glancing at the device's screen again. "Still moving too slow for Kon. And the others are gaining."

"Damn." Ichigo turned in the new direction and made to run, but Rukia grabbed his sleeve quickly and stopped him.

"Wait!" She said sharply, holding out the strange glove she still sometimes used to knock him out of his body when Kon's pill wasn't readily available. "Take this, just in case. You might need it."

"Right." He snatched it quickly, stuffed it inside his robes, and then took off at full speed, quickly outdistancing Rukia behind himself.

A rather large hill was in his way, and it took a few minutes to climb it, even going at the speed he was. When he finally crested it, he sighed in relief, glanced around quickly...and stared.

It was funny, really. After tracking Kon for three days, knowing the mod-soul was in his body, it was still an otherworldly experience to see himself pelting full-speed down the lone road stretched out over the countryside. He was still a good distance away, but Ichigo could already tell it was him from his own orange hair.

Strange, though; Kon was only running at the average speed for a human, and he seemed to be stumbling with alarming regularity. If nothing else, Ichigo had to admit that when it came to speed, jumping, and balance, Kon could be oddly skilled and surprisingly graceful, but he wasn't exhibiting any of that now.

Ichigo began picking his way down the hill, much rockier on this side, glancing up every once and a while to keep an eye on Kon's progress. Kon moved like a possessed thing (which Ichigo supposed he was, in a way), but was at least doggedly moving forward, even if he looked ready to collapse at any moment.

And then Ichigo saw the two hunters appear far back along the road, and he realized things had gotten much more dangerous, fast.

It was too far away for him to see their faces, but the larger of the pair-crap, what had his name been? Seven?-gesturing wildly, and figured the man was angry. Angry enough to disobey what he was assumed was a direct order from the Soul Society, apparently, because he gestured to the smaller one, who leveled something like a gun or a bow at Kon and fired.

Ichigo saw a flash of yellow, and a spurt of blood seemed to erupt from his-Kon's-their leg. A second strange flash of yellow caused another burst of blood from their shoulder not two seconds later. Kon stumbled, emitted an almighty, spine-chilling shriek, and hit the ground with a thud. His uninjured arm scrabbled weakly, tiredly, but Kon himself did not try to push the body to its feet to continue.

He'd given up, Ichigo realized with a bewildered sort of horror. Whatever had happened to him in the past few days, it had been enough to make him finally give up on his overwhelming desire to live.

The thought spurred him on all the faster, but he knew he wouldn't make it to Kon first. Shichi and Juusan were already there, crouching over the body, and Shichi's sword was out. He wouldn't make it, and it sent a surge of angry frustration through him.

But luck was, stunningly, on his side. The approved-reaper didn't move immediately for the kill. Instead, he was kicking Ichigo's body, and its current pilot, lividly. Ichigo was close enough to see the man's angry expression, hear his angry ranting, though neither of them had noticed him yet.

"You stupid soul! You stupid fake soul! How dare you attack a superior being like that! You should've just rolled over and died days ago, what the hell were you doing, attacking to kill, I'll kill you!"

"Shichi!" The other one yelped, startled. "We're not supposed to damage the shinigami's gigai!"

"As if I care! He can get another. This thing has to know pain, has to die!" Now he was raising the sword, angrily, as though to kill, holding the red image-blade above Kon's neck like a condemned man at the chopping block. Kon didn't so much as twitch.

But Ichigo was close enough now, and he refused to let that sword-blade fall. With a roar he swept his own giant zanpaku-to free, sent it flashing up, cutting through and shattering the red image-katana with a sudden cracking noise. And then he was standing over his own body, and Kon's weakened soul, sword still drawn and crouched defensively.

Updates will be slow from now on. For one thing, I'm on vacation. For another, I've run out of buffer. And for a third, it's a low priority, as I can't seem to tell if people are still interested. I haven't received any feedback in a while.

~VelkynKarma