On the Run

Part seven of a fanfiction by Velkyn Karma

Note: My deepest apologies for the wait. I'm pretty much the most terrible writer ever. I got slammed by a One Piece kick and had to get over it before I could continue on this one. As it is I feel I've lost the spark for this fic, but since I still have all my notes I'll at least attempt to finish it up for you guys, cause you deserve it.

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.

"Justice will only be achieved when those who are not injured by crime feel as indignant as those who are."

~King Solomon

It was silent for almost a full minute. Nobody moved; they barely dared to breathe. Ichigo kept his feet planted firmly, kept his massive zanpaku-to held up in front of him almost like a shield. And though he was tempted to look back over his shoulder or down at the body he stood over to survey the damage, he willed himself not to. He couldn't let himself be distracted, not even for a second, in this very dangerous and unstable situation.

He could still listen, though, even if he couldn't look away, and he didn't like what he was hearing. Kon was panting loudly in Ichigo's own body, a sound that frequently turned to dry coughing. Moans of whimpering agony occasionally filtered through the air in between the pants as well, and there was an occasional scuffle of dirt as the body twitched. But Kon didn't try to pull himself up and run, not even now, when Ichigo was close enough to defend. That alone made the temporary shinigami understand just how bad off the mod soul was.

It made Ichigo furious, to think anybody under his protection had come to something like this; to think that such a strong—and rightly acquired—desperation for life had been so easily smothered. He wanted to take his zanpaku-to from its defensive stance, slash out wildly at the two stunned Acting Shinigami for their unforgivable cruelty and ignorance. He restrained himself, but only barely, and that only once he forced himself to remember that it would only delay Kon's execution sentence, not stop it.

So instead he held his stance, and waited.

The other two broke the standoff first. Shichi recoiled away from him, staring at his hand where the shattered remains of the image-katana held together just barely. Juusan leveled his own ranged weapon, which Ichigo could see now was an imitation of a crossbow, but carefully didn't fire. Instead, he asked slowly, "What're you doin', sir? That's our mod-soul target."

"What am I doing?" Ichigo growled back, in his best imitation of authority, which he personally felt was half-assed. The other two seemed to buy it, though, when their narrowed, suspicious eyes widened slightly in guilt. Well, the anger in his voice probably helped, and that was definitely genuine. "What about you? What about the order I gave you—specifically to come find me when the mod soul was incapacitated? I told you I wanted to deal with the thief myself!"

"There were complications, sir—" Juusan began, but Ichigo didn't let him finish. He raised his zanpaku-to warningly and glared at the man's image-crossbow. The Acting Shinigami, suddenly realizing his weapon was raised in a clear act of aggression against a supposed agent of the Soul Society, lowered it hastily and looked more than a little terrified.

Only when both enemy weapons were lowered did Ichigo bring his own sword down, holding it loosely in one hand, though he was careful not to sheathe it yet. It acted as a reminder to them to not get uppity, and besides, he wanted it as a last-ditch defense if he had to fight and guard Kon at the same time.

"We understand yer feelin', sir," Juusan tried instead. "We woulda returned the gigai to ya afterwards, but—"

"But this little bastard of a machine soul tried ta kill us," Shichi snarled angrily, taking an aggressive step forward. Ichigo had trouble believing that, what with Kon's stance on life, and disregarded it immediately. Instead he shifted his own dangerous gaze to the man warningly, his grip tightening on his sword hilt. Shichi halted, but his eyes narrowed again.

"That thing needs ta die," the man said instead, glaring down at the body Ichigo was still standing over. "We damaged its soul to near-death, an' the gigai is damaged enough that it won't escape anymore. That kill is ours by right. Ya ain't got no reason to get between us, respectfully speakin', sir. If you even got a reason..." He trailed off, clearly suspicious.

"A reason?" Ichigo snarled, still trying to maintain some semblance of authority. Of course I've got a reason, you damned bastard, he raged in his head. Kon's a living being and you're trying to slaughter him like an animal! But that wouldn't do as an excuse, not against a pair employed by the Soul Society itself, so he fell back on his original excuse instead. "I already told you a few times, you idiots. That gigai is mine. I'm already going to be in a lot of trouble for letting it get loose so it could wreak havoc. I'm going to be the one to deal with it back in the Society for causing me so much trouble. Not you. That's my right." He narrowed his eyes. The just try to argue with me was unspoken, but understood all the same.

Shichi looked positively livid, and took a step forward, raising his fists aggressively. The way he was moving, it looked like his chest or stomach was paining him enough for him to favor it. Ichigo barely kept a smirk of satisfaction from playing over his face. At least Kon had gotten a lucky shot in before they'd reduced him to...this.

Ichigo responded defensively, raising his zanpaku-to a few inches and tightening his grip still further. Shichi looked like he was seriously considering attacking anyway, but his partner was thankfully still in his right mind. Juusan put a hand on the other's shoulder, and with a furious glare Shichi came to a halt.

"It is his right," Juusan said, still looking extremely nervous. He glanced repeatedly at Ichigo with an expression of worry on his face. "An' he's an Academy graduate, Shichi. He's a squad-member. He outranks any right ter a kill we got."

Shichi bristled, but did not argue further.

Ichigo kept a wary eye fastened on them for a few moments, but neither looked ready to press an attack or jump him suddenly. He lowered his sword once again, used the chance to feel at Kon's presence with his limited spiritual-pressure sensing skills. He was getting better at it, although it was still difficult to focus so intently on spiritual pressures when it was such a subtle skill.

Still, it didn't take subtlety to sense this, not with Kon prone just nearby, and definitely not after everything that had happened to him. Even Ichigo's still-limited ability allowed him to sense that the damages were extreme. He had thought Kon looked bad enough, in his body, but the physical hardships hardly reflected Kon's spiritual ones; his soul was like broken glass, like shredded ribbon, holding together by bare strands. It shivered badly, and Ichigo actually found himself afraid that Kon's pained, exhausted mental tremoring would shatter the mod-soul apart.

How could a soul possibly come to this? Artificial or real, it didn't matter; this was disgusting treatment, should not ever have been allowed to happen. Ichigo mentally cursed himself for taking so long to find their wayward mod soul.

He must not have been able to entirely contain his anger, because both Juusan and Shichi backed away a step, and even Shichi looked concerned now. Ichigo ignored them. As long as they didn't attack, he didn't care about them. Instead he rammed his enormous katana into the dirt carefully, for safekeeping. He wanted it on-hand, just in case, and was unwilling to sheathe it, but he needed both his hands free for what he was about to do.

Ichigo fished inside his robes quickly. For a moment he thought he'd lost the item Rukia had handed him, but found it after a few more seconds in one billowing sleeve, and drew her Soul Society issue glove free. The flame and skull on its back seemed to dance morbidly, almost alive, even though he knew it was just stitching and his own angry imagination at work. He slipped the glove on his hand as best as he could—it was meant for Rukia's hands, much smaller than his own, and he could only fit two fingers through fully. But it would be enough to do the job, of that much he was sure.

He bent over his own body, still encasing Kon's breaking, exhausted soul. His back was turned to the acting Shinigami, and his shoulder blocked Kon's face from their views, allowing for a few precious seconds of observation as long as he continued to act like a real Shinigami would in every other sense of the word. He lifted his—no, for now, Kon's—head, as gently as he could, afraid that too sudden a movement really would cause the mod-soul's weakened soul-fabric to simply shred apart. And the worst part was, he wasn't sure if it really was an irrational fear or not.

The movement seemed to startle Kon, and his eyes shifted blearily, tiredly, to meet Ichigo's. The body was trembling badly as well now, triggered by that touch, and practically resonated with that weakened soul. Ichigo could tell it was from fear, not cold. He grimaced, but couldn't really blame the mod-soul, not after what he'd been through. And Kon's eyes...he didn't know how to explain it. They were his eyes, he knew, but he'd never seen such a pathetic, pleading, exhausted expression on that face before, regardless of who was wearing it at the time. He looked like he was silently begging. Ichigo almost didn't want to know what the enhanced soul was begging for. The way Kon was right now, he wasn't entirely sure what it would be.

Ichigo wanted to send him some sort of message, reassure him in some way that Kon was safe again, but there was no way to manage it. Not with Shichi and Juusan so close, and watching him so intently—he could feel their eyes burning on his back even now. There were two parts to protecting Kon, and himself and Rukia, too, and the second part was not letting those two become suspicious enough to re-investigate and bring the Soul Society down on them.

So instead he held Kon's head firmly and slapped his forehead with Rukia's soul glove. He felt the glove's power activate instantly: Kon's shattering soul seemed to shiver, his host body's eyes rolled, and then the pill popped from the back of his head. It clattered quietly to the path, and Ichigo snatched it up quickly, just in case the acting shinigami behind him got any ideas.

He was startled at the texture of the little pill. It had always been as smooth as marble before, perfectly unblemished. Unlike hard candies or actual medical pills, Ichigo had always found Kon's pill to be oddly resilient; he doubted it ever could have been broken or shattered simply by being dropped or stepped on, and it never suffered any wear or tear from being swallowed all the time. But now he could feel hairline cracks in its surface, and it grated alarmingly at his touch between his fingers, almost as though it could crumble apart at any moment.

Ichigo did not like that one bit.

"Bein' awful nice to it, ain't yer," came Shichi's voice from behind him, still tinged with suspicion. Ichigo stood and turned, facing the acting shinigami once more. Shichi's eyes were narrowed, and while Juusan looked less confrontational he still bore a confused expression on his face.

Ichigo reached out to grab hold of his zanpaku-to again, which made the two take another step back, although he didn't intend to attack them with it. Not that he didn't want to—he'd like nothing better than to beat the two black and blue right about now—but he still had to keep up the charade. If he didn't, this would all happen again, only next time they wouldn't be so lucky. Of that he was sure.

"Nice?" he asked, and didn't bother to disguise the anger in his voice. That still fit well, for his actual anger and his current role. "There's a difference between nice and smart," he hissed. "You've already nearly destroyed it as it is, you idiots. If I'm not careful with it, it'll be broken before I ever get it back to the Soul Society, and that wouldn't do me any good." He held Kon's pill up in front of their eyes, displaying the cracks with genuine displeasure.

Juusan bit his lip, clearly buying the act. Shichi seemed to buy it too, but reached out abruptly to try and snatch the pill from Ichigo's hand. The teen moved quickly, snatching his hand back and folding his fist around that little orb protectively, deflecting the reaching hand with ease. The pill grated alarmingly in his tightened palm once again, but Ichigo strengthened his grip even further. He would hold the fractured mod soul together through strength and steely will alone if he had to. He would not let these pathetic excuses for people tear apart that right to live.

"You're crossing a line," Ichigo growled warningly. "Don't make me tell you again, Acting Shinigami," he emphasized, and hoped that alone would deflect the fact that he'd forgotten which name belonged to which person. "This is my problem to deal with, and I won't allow you to interfere."

Shichi's eyes blazed with anger. That was a problem. Ichigo didn't want him coming back, or searching for revenge, or trying to instigate an investigation. He had to be dealt with. On impulse, the substitute Shinigami added, "You're already in enough trouble as it is, so don't tempt me."

"Trouble, sir?" Juusan asked, looking startled, and not terribly happy. Even Shichi paused, looking a little surprised.

"Yeah. Trouble." Narrowing his eyes at them and really, really hoping his bluff would work, Ichigo continued, "Did you think I'd just stay quiet about two acting shinigami expressly disobeying orders from a squad member? I told you not to attack my gigai and to report to me first when you found the mod soul. And just look at it now!" He pointed angrily at his own body—again, none of that fury was feigned, his body was a mess. "This'll take forever to clean up. And I'm sure my superiors won't be happy to hear that you nearly attacked a squad member as well, just to disobey my orders more."

Both of them paled considerably. Shichi took a step back, and his hand flew to the buglike skull badge at his waist, gripping it almost protectively. Ah, so his bluff had worked; they looked afraid. Maybe they'd lose their licenses or something if they were found out. Maybe worse. It didn't really matter, since it was an empty threat, but still...

"Our apologies, sir," Juusan stammered, bowing low. "We really didn't wanna intrude, sir...we were just, er, caught up in th'hunt, y'see. It won't happen again, we swear it."

"Yeah," Shichi added with a vigorous nod. There wasn't a hint of anger in his expression now; he just looked scared. "Sorry, sir. M-my fault. T-the gigai shouldn't be too injured, but...sorry, s-sir..."

"Enough," Ichigo snapped. "Get out of my sight. I have a lot to do now before I can go back to the Society, no thanks to either of you." Well, that was mostly true too, except for the Society part. And he sure as hell wanted to see them gone.

"Sir!" both snapped to attention, offered deeply respectful, low bows, and then promptly turned on their heels and ran. It took them some time to disappear completely from Ichigo's vision, and he watched them run with narrowed eyes the entire time, determined to make sure they really had left.

But at last they disappeared, and Ichigo relaxed his posture slightly, sheathing his zanpaku-to once again across his back. Only his fist, closed protectively around that cracked pill, remained tight as steel. In that he remained resolute; until Rukia could tell him how to fix Kon, he refused to lessen up on the pressure, would hold Kon together himself since the mod-soul was incapable of doing so on his own.

He did, however, raise his fist to his face, and said loudly and clearly, "They're gone. I got ya."

He did not continue. There was nothing else to be said.

It took some time for Rukia to actually catch up. Ichigo hadn't realized how far he'd outdistanced her by, and although the confrontation with the two modsoul hunters had felt like it had taken ages, it probably hadn't been more than a few minutes. For the entire wait, Ichigo kept his hand fisted firmly around Kon's beaten pill, keeping that reassuring pressure in place.

When Rukia finally arrived, clambering over the rocky hills nearby with a look of exasperation on her face, a good twenty minutes had already passed. Ichigo waited for her to get closer, standing over his currently pilot-less body and feeling more than a little useless.

"Where are they?" Rukia asked with a frown as soon as she was close enough, looking around for the acting shinigami that had caused them so much trouble.

"Gone," Ichigo said curtly. And at Rukia's shrewd, warning look, he added, "I didn't attack them or anything, don't worry. I used the same bluff as before. They're afraid I'll report them to the Soul Society for misconduct or whatever."

"Good," she said with a nod, and seemed to relax slightly. Glancing down at Ichigo's prone body next, she asked slowly, "Kon?"

"Here," Ichigo answered, and gestured with his still clenched fist. She gave him a puzzled look, and he said more slowly, "He's...not in great shape. His pill is all cracked. I dunno if any of that kido stuff of yours could help him..."

"Let me see him," Rukia answered, frowning. Ichigo could tell she'd just sensed for Kon's condition as well, and though it was fainter in his pill state, it still did not look good. She clearly wasn't happy with her discovery. "I will do what I can."

Very slowly, very carefully, Ichigo unfolded his fingers from around the pill and held it out for her to inspect in his palm. Again, the little orb shivered and grated alarmingly when the pressure was removed, and Ichigo wondered what would happen if it actually broke into pieces.

He decided he really didn't want to discover the answer to that.

Rukia's frown deepened as she saw the extent of the damage, and she carefully held out one finger to touch the pill, withdrawing it quickly when it seemed to shift a little. "This will be difficult," she said slowly. "My gigai is still not capable of a high degree of kido. Most of what ability I have will have to go to this. I won't be able to spare much for your body."

Ichigo glanced down at his own prone form on the ground. It really was a mess. His leg and shoulder were both bloodied from the strange weapon attacks of those acting reapers, his skin was bruised and scratched all over, he looked thinner, and there were deep bags under his eyes. Based on the strategies the hunters had described, it was no wonder his body looked like a train wreck. Kon had probably left behind massive collections of exhaustion and hunger, too, which would be painful and irritating to deal with.

But for all that, the body would live. The damage to it was widespread, but while it would take a little time to recover from the wounds and the overexertion and the malnutrition, it would be fine. He'd had worse. Kon, on the other hand...Kon didn't have that reassurance.

"Go ahead and do it," Ichigo said. "I'll be fine." He very, very carefully tipped the cracked pill into her open palm, then bent to re-enter his body while she set to work trying to repair the damage to their mod-soul.

Getting back in actually took more time than usual, which was a little surprising. Then again, Ichigo realized, he'd been out of his body for several days now, the longest he'd ever been a soul reaper for a single stretch of time. And the whole time he'd been gone his body had been under severe stress. He guessed it shouldn't be that surprising after all.

He guessed he should have expected the truckload of physical senses that assailed his mind as soon as he had returned, too. They hammered into him all at once: sharp pain from the wounds in his leg and arm, dull pain from the bruises and the scratches and the soreness everywhere else, a ravening hunger that clawed at the pit that was his stomach like a wild animal, the exhaustion so heavy it felt like a vice pressing him into the ground. It all came to him at once, so fast he was sure he blacked out for a moment before he could start regaining some measure of control.

Damn, but his body was a wreck. And Kon had been dealing with this for days. With this on top of his spiritual wounds, it was no wonder the acting reapers had worn him down.

He wrestled control of those senses one by one, overpowered them enough to gain control of his own body once more. Pain he could force to the back of his mind; not ignore it completely, but enough that he could function. Hunger was next, though he swore to himself he was using the rest of the money in his wallet to buy the biggest meal he could at the closest fast-food joint. That seemed to quiet his stomach a little. Exhaustion was the most difficult to ignore, the way it pressed at him, but he managed to force it back as well. It didn't have to be for long; he could sleep on the train on the way home.

When he finally mastered his body and wearily sat up, it was to find that a lot more time than he thought had passed. Rukia was crouching nearby with the little pill cupped in her palms, muttering intently. She, too, looked exhausted from the healing-kido process, but Ichigo noted that at least she had been a little successful. Kon's pill still possessed hairline cracks, but they didn't look as deep or dangerous, and there weren't nearly as many of them as before. Whatever damage those acting shinigami had been able to do to Kon's soul, apparently Rukia's kido was capable of smoothing it over.

At last she folded her hands and drooped tiredly. "That's as much as I can do in this body," she said slowly. "I'll need to do more after I've rested, but he is no longer in immediate danger." She glanced over at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got run over by a truck," Ichigo answered truthfully. "But I can walk to the station, at least. Those guys were right...their weapons really didn't damage my leg or shoulder too much. It looks worse than it is."

"That is fortunate." Rukia looked tired, and gave him a grim look. "I don't think I could have healed you much. Those weapons might not harm flesh, but the damage they cause to souls is violent beyond measure." Both their eyes dropped to the pill in her hands, almost simultaneously.

"Should we put him in the plush?" Ichigo asked after a moment, gesturing with a wince to the bag still on her back.

But she shook her head. "Possessing a body, even that small one, is still an energy-draining process," she said. "Under normal circumstances the strain is minimal enough not to inconvenience the soul...the Society wanted them to be practical soldiers, after all. But after all the recent occurrences it is probably better that he rests in his natural state without further strain."

Ichigo frowned at that, but Rukia did seem to know what she was talking about, so after a moment he nodded. "Okay. Fine. It's just temporary anyway." There hadn't really been a need to say that last part, but...after all this, after everything Kon had been through—some of which Ichigo himself could still feel—the teen wanted to make sure Kon knew he wasn't being locked away again. That it was just temporary, just for his own safety, his own life.

"That is correct. Only temporary," Rukia agreed, and it seemed she had the exact same idea in mind. Both of them stood tiredly, and she handed the pill to Ichigo, who put it very carefully in one of his pockets. Then, stumbling, exhausted, and thoroughly fed up with this little adventure, the two of them began walking up the path and back towards the city, where a train station could deliver them home to some much-needed food and rest.

Last chapter is mostly written up and should be updated...uh..relatively soon. No promises on when though. But soon.

~VelkynKarma