Summary: Nemu's captors try to heal her, but not everything goes well. Ishida joins his nakama once again to fight.

Twelve Days Ago.

The man's face was painted with a broad red stripe down the center with two yellow dots on either side. He knelt over Nemu's prone, unconscious form holding a green stone over her head which glowed and shone on her cleaned and bandaged wound. He concentrated intensely, focusing all his energy into the healing light. It was his duty, both to his emperor and his calling, for the woman before him to be healed as completely and thoroughly as possible. He would not rush. He would take no shortcuts. He would like to take a break though. His thoughts began to turn to the half full cup beside him. It wouldn't do to practice healing with a wandering mind. He put down the green stone and picked up the cup. Yep, healing was sure thirsty work! Before he could do more than bring the cup to his lips, a faint thumping sound reached his ears. It was the sound of a wooden foot moving down the hall. High Priest Tezcatlipoca was approaching! He would be there any second! He frantically looked around the room for a place to hide the cup. Thinking quickly, he decided to hide it behind an earthenware jug. Realizing the jug was just as damning as the cup, he picked both up and was still busy searching for a hiding place as Tezcatlipoca entered the room.

His superior looked at him with an expression of long suffering exasperation. If Patecatl wasn't his best healer…

"Don't bother." He said, "I can smell that stuff all the way down the hall."

Patecatl spread out his hands as he protested. "Have pity your holiness. Head trauma is slow, tricky work. I need something to keep me from tensing up."

"We don't need you passed out either." The High Priest said. "Why did you even think to bring that in here?"

Patecatl did his best to look offended. "I am expected to heal a badly injured foreigner slated to be the emperor's next concubine, and not leave a scratch mind you, as well as make up a batch of pulque for the ceremony. Wouldn't it be more efficient to combine the two?"

Tezcatlipoca let the obvious lie pass. Pulque had to be made fresh, and with no date set for the ceremony there was no way what he was drinking was in preparation for it. Patecatl was known for his ability to drink. That could be his first cup or his fifth. There was really no way to tell. He was allowed to get away with it only because he was very good at healing and never failed yet. He sighed.

"Just tell me how she's doing. Has there been any progress? Has she said anything yet?"

Now that he was out of trouble, Patecatl's manner became more brisk and serious. He looked down at his sleeping patient.

"The healing goes slow. Head wounds are like that. When she is awake, she is like a child. She remembers nothing and finds everything strange. I have a long way to go before I'd call her healthy."

"But is she stable?" Tezcatlipoca asked. "Is she strong enough to work on?"

Patecatl thought for a moment. "Physically, yes, she is strong enough for the surgery we have planned. It's her wound that bothers me. With her head damaged, it will be hard to find a potion to keep her from pain that will not put her in danger. Are you sure you want to start now?"

"The sooner the better." the High Priest replied. "I'm anxious to know what those strange substances in her body are. Are they poisons? Medicines? I have a half dozen acolytes ready to study and experiment on everything we extract. It will also take some time to leach out the stuff in her blood. We should get started today if we can."

"I would have to postpone any more work on her wound. She is in no danger if I stop and will heal on her own, but it will be much slower without my help." Patecatl said. "I think I can even make up something to keep her from feeling any pain safely."

"Very good." Tezcatlipoca said. "Can you have her ready by this afternoon?"

"I think so." Patecatl replied. "If you want me there, I'll need to take a break now."

"I understand." Tezcatlipoca said.

While he was a pretty good healer himself and would have lots of help, it made him feel safer knowing Patecatl was handy.

"I will get my instruments ready and prepare my assistants." He turned to leave the room.

Patecatl held up his hand. "Before you go your holiness."

He poured from the jug into another cup. "Won't you at least try a taste of my latest batch?"

His white teeth stood out in strong contrast to his face paint as he grinned.

Tezcatlipoca turned back and looked at the cup being offered to him. Honestly, the man had no shame! He reached out and took the cup.

"Long Life!" Patecatl said as he poured the drink down his throat.

"Good Health." the High Priest replied as he drank from his own cup.

However much he hated to admit it, Patecatl made damn good pulque.

Two Days Ago.

Ichigo had to comment as soon as Ishida stepped off the ladder into the training area.

"You made ANOTHER costume?" he asked.

The uniform he was wearing was different from what he wore to Hueco Mundo. It still had the essential characteristics of a Quincy uniform in color and design, but the cape was much smaller and draped over the left arm held in place with gold braid. He avoided going for a full length cassock, sticking to the military style tunic with a more conventional collar design. His trousers were tucked into the top of his boots that came to mid-calf.

Ishida adjusted his glasses and sneered.

"This is not a 'costume' Kurosaki. It is an authentic Quincy battle uniform. Forgive me if I refuse to wear the same bland thing every mission."

The implied insult went right over Ichigo's head.

"How can it be a uniform it it's always different? Oww!"

He looked over in surprise as Rukia had kicked him in the shin.

"Don't listen to him Ishida-san. I think you look very dashing." Rukia said.

"What'd you do that for?" Ichigo groused. Rukia ignored him.

Ishida gave a slight bow of gratitude. "Thank you Rukia-san. I'm glad to see there's someone here with good taste."

"I still don't think I deserved that." Ichigo grumbled.

Looking around the huge chamber, he was happy to see familiar faces. Chad was standing patiently, looming over everyone as always. For this trip, he had a maroon long sleeve shirt with a black panel on the back and shoulders embroidered with skulls and flowers. He walked up to him and shook his hand.

"It's good to see you again Sado-san."

The young giant gave a low grunt and a smile.

Renji called out from the rock he was sitting on.

"Yo!" he said with a wave.

Ishida waved back. "Abarai-san, I wasn't expecting to see you here."

He was cheering up despite himself. For someone who had been alone most of his life, being surrounded by friends was still a new and welcome feeling. He kept looking around for one last person. The one who would make their circle complete. He didn't see her. After thinking for a second, understanding came.

"So, Inoue-san hasn't arrived yet? I thought I would be the one showing up late putting the last minute touches on my cape."

The smiles vanished off of faces. Everyone looked at each other. They avoided looking at him. "What's the matter?" Ishida asked.

Glancing around at the others, Rukia decided to answer. "Ishida-san, we didn't ask her to come."

"Didn't ask her…?" He didn't understand. She was one of them, one of the nakama. Why didn't they ask her?

Ichigo could see the confusion on his face. "Where we are going is dangerous. We didn't think we should expose Inoue to any of that."

"What are you talking about?" Ishida said. "She can be useful in combat. She can heal practically anything."

"We're going in with full Soul Society support." Renji said. "The fourth division is handling all healing duties."

"She can do more than that." Ishida protested. "She has shields and some offensive capability."

Rukia saw she needed to spell things out.

"Ishida-san, all that is true. We didn't ask her to come along because combat is not in her nature. Do you really want to expose her to the trauma she will see? Do you want to put her in a position where she will have to inflict harm? We didn't have the heart to ask that of her."

Even Chad had something to say.

"It wouldn't be fair to ask her to go." He rumbled.

Ishida blinked as he thought about their words. It was true. Inoue was a kind, loving person who cared about everyone. Asking her to purposely harm someone would be damaging to her. The death of anyone affected her. He could still see her tear streaked face as she watched Ulquiorra, the arrancar that had abducted and imprisoned her, dissolve into a pile of ash.

"You're right." He admitted. "She shouldn't come."

It was the truth. That didn't make admitting it any easier.

"Ahh, Ishida-san. I'm glad to see you could make it."

The owner and proprietor of the Urahara shop came striding around a rock formation followed by his number one employee, Tessai, who carried a large package wrapped in brown paper.

"The gate is almost ready. Before you can go, I was asked to design something especially for you Kurosaki-san."

Tessai handed the package to Ichigo.

"For me?" Ichigo's confusion was all over his face. "What is it?"

Uruahara went into lecture mode. "For this mission, stealth will be key. All shinigami going need to have the ability to suppress their reiatsu so as not to give the enemy any indication of their approach. For that purpose, I made you this."

Ichigo was just as much in the dark as before. "This being?"

"It's an update to a suppression cloak I made a long time ago." Urahara explained. "Instead of a cloak, it is a suit much like those worn in modern laboratory clean rooms. What they call a 'Bunny Suit'."

"Bunny Suit?" Rukia perked up immediately. "Really? Try it on Ichigo. I want to see!"

"Yes, Kurosaki." Ishida said, grinning evilly while adjusting his glasses. "Do put it on. I'm sure we all want to see that."

Chad turned his head to hide his smile, while Renji openly laughed.

Ichigo scowled. "I'm not wearing no damn bunny suit!"

"Aww!" Rukia said, disappointment all over her face. "I want to see it."

Urahara looked at Ichigo as if he had brain damage.

"It is not a literal bunny suit Kurosaki-san. It is simply a cover-all that will hide your reiatsu during this mission. There's really nothing bunnyish about it. If you refuse to wear it, you will have to remain here."

Ichigo still looked upset. "Do I have to put it on now?"

"No, not until the mission starts." Urahara said. Rukia looked even more disappointed. "If you are all ready, please follow me to the gate."

He turned around to lead them to the gate's location. Ishida walked quickly to get close enough to ask questions.

"Urahara-san, what happened exactly? What is the status of the captured team? What happened to Nemu-san?"

Urahara opened his fan, waving it casually back and forth in front of his face as he walked.

"You will receive a detailed briefing while in Soul Society Ishida-san. While I do know some things, I must confess, I don't have all the details."

"Can't you tell me anything?" Ishida asked. "The redheaded philistine back there only told me they'd been captured."

"I can only tell you the last time they were seen, everyone was still alive, including Lieutenant Kurotsuchi." Urahara replied. "And here we are."

Using his fan, he gestured to a large senkaimon braced into the corner of the vast training room. It looked nothing like the ugly square gate they used to break into Soul Society. It looked like the usual senkaimon shinigami used except for the scale. Seeing it reminded Ishida of the last time he had seen Nemu. She had been running into a senkaimon gate, wearing the first dress she had ever chosen for herself. Going back to Soul Society. Going back to her father. He touched his lips as he remembered how she had surprised him with a kiss. It made him feel confused and ashamed. Knowing her origins, he had been so proud of himself that he had treated her with dignity and respect, just like would for anyone else. Or so he thought. Looking back, he realized that he had treated her like a small child, still learning about the world with no real will of her own. He never noticed until Nemu forced him to that she was not a child or a puppet, she was a woman with feelings. In a way, didn't that mean he had looked down on her? That he thought of himself as better than her. He wanted to talk to her about it, work out just what had happened between them. He couldn't work up the nerve. He could have asked Urahara to send her a message. Rukia, or even that lunkhead Ichigo could have helped him get word to her. With her gone back to Soul Society, it had been easier to just let it go. He cursed himself for his cowardice. He resolved when this rescue was complete, he would follow through with his intentions and talk to Nemu. She deserved that much at least.

The gate opened up and escorting butterflies fluttered out.

"The Reishihenkanki converter is built right into this gate." Urahara said. "With the butterflies escorting, your journey should be pleasant and short."

"That's good for you Ichigo." Renji said. "I'd hate to see you drop your bunny suit!"

Everybody laughed, including Chad.

"Oh shut your trap." Ichigo replied as he stepped into the gate. He may not have liked the suit, but he held it tightly nonetheless.

One by one, they entered the brightly lit opening. Urahara waved his fan at them in farewell.

"Goodbye." He said. "Best of luck! Safe Journey."

Finally, Ishida was the only one left. He hesitated.

"Urahara-san. Can I ask you a favor?"

"What is it you need Ishida-san? The shopkeeper asked from behind his fan.

Ishida had trouble finding the words.

"If you see may father, can you tell him….tell him that…"

He really couldn't think of what he wanted to say.

Urahara put his hand on Ishida's shoulder and looked him in the eye.

"If I see him, I'll think of something to tell him."

Ishida was grateful. "Thank you Urahara-san." He said with a bow.

He took one last look at the real world, then turned to follow his nakama into the light.

Twelve Days Ago.

She felt better, which was still a long way from good. Her head hurt and her vision was blurry. The light in the room seemed to stab painfully in to her eyes. At least she didn't feel the waves of nausea anymore. If you took away the pain, inside her head felt stuffed with cotton wool. Thoughts came slowly and made little sense. She remembered men with painted faces and seeing a green light. She couldn't remember anything else. Her name, who she was, where she was, it was like they were in her mind, but locked up where she couldn't get to them. She decided she had to get up. Struggling, she managed to sit up propping herself with her elbow. The pain exploded in her head and the room began to spin.

"Hey, hey, don't try to get up!" She heard somebody say.

A man with a red stripe painted in the center of his face swam into view. He took her by the shoulders and gently lowered her back down.

"So, you're awake. That's good. You're getting better. How do you feel?"

She tried to talk normally, but her voice came out in a whisper.

"My head hurts."

"In a few more days, that'll go away." The man said. "Do you remember anything yet? Your name? Where you're from?"

She wished he hadn't asked her anything. Thinking was hard, even for things she desperately wanted to know herself.

"No," she whispered, "I don't"

"There were others with you. Do you remember any of them?" he asked.

Others? The last thing she remembered was waking up in the room with strange people all around.

"I don't remember." She said. It was beginning to scare her. She felt lost.

"I'm Patecatl." The man said. "I'd offer you a drink, but you're in no shape for it at the moment."

He drank something out of an earthenware cup. "The others who came with you are very stubborn. They refuse to talk. Nothing beyond their names. They won't give us your name at all. All they'll say is 'Is the lieutenant alright?'. What's a lieutenant? Is that like a noble's rank? Are you nobility?"

These words felt familiar to her. It was like she should know them. She began to think if she concentrated, they would have meaning that applied to her. She tried. For a split second, it almost felt as if recognition were possible. It didn't last.

"I can't remember. I want to, but I can't." It was all so frightening.

Patecatl saw the woman was getting upset. "Don't worry about it. I will call you Lieutenant for now. Is that alright?"

She nodded. It didn't feel right exactly. At least it was something.

"Here." The man held out a cup. "Drink some water. You've been out for a long time."

It felt good to drink. She hadn't realized how thirsty she was. Patecatl was careful to make sure she drank slowly. She drank two and half cups before trying to gesture enough.

"Very good." Patecatl said. "I'm sure you're hungry too. I'm sorry, I can't let you eat just yet."

He held up a bowl with a greenish looking broth in it. He looked at it and grinned.

"Looks bad doesn't it? You think you don't want to drink this now, but wait until you taste it!"

He watched her face for a few seconds. She didn't catch the joke. Oh well.

"You're in bad shape Lieutenant. To patch you up, we're going to have to work on you."

Not exactly true, but she didn't need to know that.

"If you are awake, it's probably going to hurt. If I give you something to knock you out, it may be bad for your head. This," he lifted the bowl, "will leave you awake, and it will block out the pain. This potion gives people dreams. You will dream so strongly, you not only won't feel pain, you won't see or hear anything around you. In a couple of hours, we'll be all done and this will wear off. Do you understand?"

She didn't like the sound of people working on her doing painful things. On the other hand, she was too weak to move and already in a lot of pain. It's not like she had a choice. This man, Patecatl, seemed to have her best interests in mind. She decided to trust him. She nodded.

"It smells pretty bad, so I'm going to pinch your nose. That'll help with the taste too. When you drink this, try to get it all down at once, like this."

Demonstrating, he poured a milky liquid that smelled like slightly rotten pears into his cup up to the rim. With this head back, he drank the cup seemingly in one gulp.

"Ahh, that hit the spot. Can you do that? I want you to try. Are you ready?"

Leaning over, he pinched her nose shut and put the bowl to her lips. It was absolutely foul! Trying not to gag, she drank as quickly as she could, doing her best to get rid of the bitter, greasy tasting sludge. When it was gone, she coughed and some dribbled out of the corners of her mouth.

"Well done, Lieutenant, well done." Patecatl said as he wiped her face. "Just relax now. It'll take a little time to work. Remember what I said about dreams? I want you to think of the happiest thing you can remember. It's very important to enter the dream world in the right state of mind. Keep thinking about all the good things you can."

He held up a flute. "I am going to play this to help you. There's no need to be afraid, I'm going to be here the whole time."

He went over to a corner of the room and sat down. The music he played was a lively jaunty tune. It was clearly meant to inspire similar thoughts. Try as she might, she couldn't think of anything to be happy about. She couldn't remember anything. Was this her home? Were the men with the painted faces her people? Who was she? She felt very lost and afraid. She began to notice a darkness creeping up from the corner of her eye. It spread and grew, filling up her vision as if she was sinking into a pool of ink. She had trouble hearing the music. It seemed to come from miles away. The room began to look small, like looking out of the wrong end of a telescope. It got farther and farther until it winked out likes a snuffed candle. She was surrounded by darkness.

She didn't remember if she was asleep or awake. The blackness surrounded her on all sides. There was no pain or any other sensation. She was walking. She could not have told you where she was walking. She could not see the floor, but she heard her shoes hitting a hard flat surface. There were no walls, but her steps echoed back to her. She was lost and had no idea where to go. She walked, hoping she was going somewhere, looking for a clue to tell her where to go. What was that up ahead? Was it a light? Yes, it was. She wanted to run. She could only walk. It would have to do. Walking towards the light, she began to see it was in the form of a circle. A single bright overhead light coming from some indistinct source illuminated something like an operating table. A man stood with his back turned to her. He was wearing a long white coat and a strange hat.

"Excuse me." She said. "Can you help me? I don't know where I am. I think I'm lost."

The man turned around showing a face painted in a strange black and white pattern. His eyes were an odd shade of yellow.

"Well it's about time you showed up N***." He said.

She felt hope rise up inside. "My name? You said my name? You know what it is? I didn't understand. Please say it again."

The man didn't give any sign that he had heard her. Seizing her by the arm, he roughly twisted it and dragged her over to the table.

"Get over here. Look at that will you! Just look at that. It's dead! The specimen is ruined! All thanks to your dawdling. What pathetic excuse do you have for your failure you stupid bitch."

She looked down on the table and saw a creature of some kind. It was hard to say what as it was cut open with clamps and wires holding various parts aside or even outside the body entirely. Was it a person?

"I don't understand." She said. "What's going on here?"

Again, the man seemed to not hear. He roughly forced her to face him.

"When I tell you to get me an instrument, I mean NOW!"

He punctuated the last word with a stinging backhand across her cheek. She put her hand over the stinging flesh.

"Why did you do that?" she cried "What have I done?"

He punched her in the face causing her to stagger back.

"Wasting my time, wasting our resources, why do I keep putting my trust in such a lazy, stupid girl!"

The blows rained down on her face and arms as he lashed out at her over and turned to flee. She didn't get far before she ran into something. Putting out her hand, she found she could not return to the shadows. The darkness had turned solid. She was trapped in the circle of light. She pounded her fists against the hard glassy substance the darkness had become, running her hands over its surface looking for a way out. She couldn't find any. The man reached out a pale hand, seized her shoulder and spun her around. The other hand wrapped around her throat. The long nails on his fingers cut painfully into her skin. He slowly lifted her up until her toes could no longer touch the floor. She couldn't breathe! He stared at her with his strange yellow eyes filled disgust and rage.

"All this time, you've been nothing but a waste. If you can't be useful, then be gone!"

He threw her to the floor. Only it wasn't a floor anymore. She kept falling without stopping. The man, the table, the circle of light faded away in the distance as she plummeted downward. It grew smaller and smaller until the darkness swallowed it up. She never stopped falling.

Tezcatlipoca waved his hand in front of the foreigner's widely staring glassy eyes.

"Are you sure she's completely out?" he said.

"Trust me." Patecatl said. "It's my special blend. I've tried it out several times myself. She won't feel a thing, she won't even know we're here. If she's having dreams like I had, she's probably having a deep conversation with the color purple right now. We've got hours."

Tezcatlipoca had no problem visualizing his chief healer "trying out" his own medicines. He gestured to his assistants.

"Disrobe her and prepare the upper right quadrant first. Remember, she is the property of the emperor. We have to get this right the first time."

As they hurried to carry out his orders, he laid out freshly made obsidian blades on a mat. They were going to do a lot of cutting. He sure hoped Patecatl was right.