See first chapter for warnings. This chapter appearing here some days after AO3, because of my endless grudge match with the posting interface.
Unohana Retsu
Unohana had spent most of the last four days scanning through recordings, trying to work out the status of, well, everyone in Fourth Division and all the senior officers of the Gotei. She was having better luck with Fourth Division, both in terms of finding out how they were and in terms of how they actually were. There was some bullying and harassment from both arrancar and sworn shinigami, but overall it looked like Tōsen had given the message that Fourth Division was to be allowed to do its duty unmolested. The senior officers… thanks to the damn castle, she couldn't even account for all the vice-captains, and a lot of the ones she could account for were in very sorry shape.
Yoruichi had been doing much the same, but with a somewhat broader focus — checking out clans and Onmitsukidō and other odds and ends. Most of results there were even grimmer. Most of the adult nobles who hadn't been slaughtered outright were imprisoned in the top levels of Muken. Their retainers who hadn't died defending them or gone over to Aizen were living precariously, at the mercy of any passing arrancar's whims.
She pointedly did not linger over the Shihōin, even to laugh at the arrancar tangled up in their trap-field of an estate.
"Your brother is alive, isn't he?" Unohana asked eventually, after Yoruichi discarded another video of a kinsman.
"Hmm?" Yoruichi said, as if she had no idea what Unohana was talking about. "Oh, you mean the new clan head? Yes, it looks like they decided he counted as a kid. Seems fair." She shrugged casually. "He did a decent job telling people to scatter. I'm glad the clan's not in completely incompetent hands."
Unohana considered pushing further, but guessed Yoruichi had her reasons for not admitting any fondness for her clan or her brother. "Still no sign of Urahara-san?"
"Nothing after they went through that portal." Yoruichi bared her teeth at her monitor. "Fucking castle."
Kuchiki Byakuya
Rukia was back in Seireitei and back on duty. That was — that had to be — the most important thing.
That was also the only thing Inoue-san had told him, but while Byakuya made a point of not speaking in the proving ground, he did listen, and most of the would-be sworn shinigami didn't bother trying to hide things. So he knew Shirogane Ginjirō had been pulled out of retirement to run Sixth, and that was… acceptable. He'd do right by the division.
What was not acceptable was how many officers of Sixth had apparently been harboring festering resentment of him and his origins, Renji and his origins, or occasionally both. There had actually been a brief fistfight in the hall between an officer looking forward to taking his frustrations out on Byakuya but who respected Renji and an officer looking forward to taking his frustrations out on Renji but who respected Byakuya. Byakuya had wished he could kill both of them, but especially the one who claimed to respect him. (Because even before he'd truly come to respect Renji himself, he would never have permitted disrespect of the vice-captain of Sixth. They should know that.)
No one had told him anything about the Kuchiki clan, but he'd heard enough bits and pieces to work out they'd been targeted and casualties were very high. He hoped some of them had escaped. And that the obvious candidates for clan leadership in his absence had not, because in honesty any of them would be a disaster, especially in exile.
He considered what a mess several of his relatives would make of leading an exile rather than considering what was happening in the proving ground.
Byakuya was, sadly, now used to hearing the bell signifying the proving ground was closing for the day. The Exequias herded any remaining candidates out.
But instead of immediately dragging the prisoners back to the sekkiseki cells, the Exequias forced them all to kneel on the tables, facing the hall. It was not a comfortable position, especially as one of Byakuya's… assailants had chosen to spend a few minutes beating his buttocks and thighs with a knotted rope. At the time it had seemed like a good break, but now the bruises were making everything worse.
Aizen's reiatsu flared just enough to be uncomfortable, not enough to make anyone collapse off the table, and then Aizen himself appeared in the hall. He paced slowly between the cells, smiling mildly at his prisoners.
"Good afternoon."
No one replied.
"I must thank you for your diligent help in testing my sworn shinigami."
The silence this time was somehow more incredulous.
"It has been so helpful I have considered creating a new, higher level of demonstrated loyalty, for those who have… visited… with each of you."
That wouldn't have much of an effect on Byakuya — if instituted, it would be aimed at Komamura, Hitsugaya, maybe Ukitake. And Madarame, after he'd actually managed to kill someone in his cell, possibly with his teeth.
Byakuya wasn't quite sure what Aizen was hoping to accomplish, with Madarame.
"But that is for the future. For now, it occurred to me that I still haven't explained to you what I meant when I said I needed you all broken to the yoke. I thought you might appreciate a demonstration."
Balancing 'getting the information' against 'listening to Aizen', Byakuya would rather pass. Clearly that wasn't an option.
Aizen held up a sphere of shaped reishi and walked back and forth to let everyone see it. "This is the compressed form of the kidō construct called a yoke. I wanted to bring someone already yoked to demonstrate, but I fear my Espada can get very possessive of their pets' time, and the most readily available option is… not the best for demonstration purposes."
"No shit, Aizen-sama, I spend most of the time ordering him to eat," a vaguely familiar voice said. "Hey, go wave hi to all the prisoners."
A minute later there was a burst of profanity from Renji, which cut off with a choking noise. He was probably actually being choked.
A minute after that, Kurosaki Ichigo stood in front of Byakuya's cell, waving stiffly. His eyes were so dull Byakuya wasn't sure he was actually seeing anything around him. His gray prisoner robe was pulled down far enough to expose his shoulders, showing off the… thing.
It looked like it was embedded in his flesh — the skin around it was irritated enough — and it almost seemed to be moving. The neck of the robe was bloodstained. He moved on a minute later, before Byakuya could come up with anything to say.
"As Grimmjow said, most of this isn't the yoke," Aizen said. "It doesn't generally make the subject so… unaware."
"I can fuck him through the floor and he barely fights," Grimmjow grumbled.
Byakuya didn't allow himself to flinch. There was another quickly-choked-off burst of profanity from Renji.
"Thank you, Grimmjow, that will be all."
"Hai, Aizen-sama. Come on, we're leaving."
After a moment, Aizen said, "Such a shame. He used to be so entertaining."
No one said anything. What could they say?
"Of course, Ichigo-kun lost his powers trying to fight your war, so his situation is not exactly comparable." He paused, and there were some noises eventually revealed to be caused by the Exequias dragging out Sasakibe — and Renji.
Renji looked bad, bruised and bleeding and exhausted and unable to walk. His hair was loose, which contributed to the impression of being at the end of his rope — and, Byakuya noted, there were some hanks that were noticeably shorter than others. Apparently Renji had also been visited by hair-cutting souvenir seekers. But he could still glare at the Exequias and at Aizen, or at least at Aizen's feet. Sasakibe, the brief time he was in Byakuya's range of view, just looked dead-eyed.
Aizen handed off a glowing… potential yoke to an arrancar — Ulquiorra, Byakuya thought. Ulquiorra took it with a slight bow and approached Renji. Renji tried to struggle, but Ulquiorra still slammed the kidō ball against his neck.
There was a bang and a flash of light, and Renji yelled, but when the Espada stepped back, there was nothing on Renji's neck but the bruises that had been there before, and maybe some sunburn. Renji sagged in the Exequias's hold, gasping.
"Subjects with bankai will instinctively fight off a yoke," Aizen said. "Even with depleted reiatsu, they have to consciously allow it or it won't take properly." He produced another glowing sphere to Ulquiorra, who moved out of Byakuya's sight. "Unless, of course…" There was a short scream. "He is quite thoroughly broken already." Aizen followed Ulquiorra. "Go… wave to all the prisoners."
Sasakibe looked even worse with the yoke burned into his neck and shoulders. The blood oozing from it was almost unnoticeable with all the other injuries, but the pain lines were carved more deeply into his face. He staggered from cell to cell, waving even more stiffly than Ichigo had. His eyes were less vacant, but more — broken.
Aizen tsked. "Bleeding even on a captain-class. I see I am going to need to push for the redesign. Well, take it off him for now, Ulquiorra — you don't need to be spending your time ordering him to eat."
And he chuckled.
Kurosaki Ichigo
Nothing mattered.
"I'm done with him now, Grimmjow. Get whatever use you like out of him — short of killing him, there may be call for him in the future."
Nothing mattered.
"Wait here. I'll be back for you after I set something up. Not going to ask what? Well, I guess you'll have to find out."
Nothing mattered.
"Oh, fuck this."
Ichigo was forced out of his fugue when Grimmjow threw him in a koi pond. The need to breathe summoned awareness, and then he was face-to-face with a startled fish, and then he was sitting up and flailing and gasping and spluttering and Grimmjow was dragging him out of the water.
"That's better," Grimmjow said. "You weren't listening to me."
Ichigo coughed and spat out water, and looked around — this was… somewhere in Seireitei. It was night, but he could still see Sōkyoku Hill, with — Aizen's castle…
"No sulking!" Grimmjow snapped. He grabbed Ichigo and sonido'd to… some street in the Seireitei, somewhere. Ichigo had never really worked out the layout. Right in front of a house. "Now, you have been putting up the shittiest fights imaginable. I could probably get more of a fight out of the healing woman."
Inoue. He'd seen Inoue, sometime — she'd been crying… "You didn't…"
Grimmjow laughed. "I'd rather not get my dick torn off by Ulquiorra, thanks, shinigami."
"I'm not a shinigami," Ichigo said dully.
"That's what I'm talking about!" Grimmjow shoved him. "You're pathetic. But I figure I can get more of a fight out of you, and then you can get your powers back and give me a good fight, if I get you properly motivated."
There was a crash from the house, and an indistinct shout.
Grimmjow laughed. "Think that's our cue, shinigami." He grabbed Ichigo's arm and bounded into the house, without taking his shoes off. "You give me a real fight, and I put a stop to this!"
It took a moment for Ichigo to register what was going on, besides the room being trashed and several arrancar wrestling on the floor. No, wrestling something — someone — one of them had Rukia's hands pinned above her head, another was holding her ankles, a third was ripping her clothes open and bending to bite her breast—
"Get away from her!" Ichigo roared, and tore free of Grimmjow to hurl himself at the second arrancar. If Rukia's feet were free she could at least kick—
Grimmjow was suddenly in front of him, smirking. "No, you fight me, and I stop them. That's how it works."
Ichigo went for his throat.
As it turned out, Ichigo could indeed put up more of a fight when 'properly motivated', and he kept fighting for longer. But he was still without powers, and it still ended the same as the other times.
"That'll do for now, shinigami," Grimmjow said, getting off him. Then, to someone else, "Put him in with the girl."
Ichigo tried to walk, but couldn't. The fraccion dragged him somewhere — he wasn't sure where, his head was spinning — and then dropped him, and then Rukia was bending over him.
"Ichigo!"
"M'fine," he slurred. "M'fine. Rukia… you…?" She was wearing a yukata (dark blue, not a prisoner robe), so he couldn't see any marks on her body besides the yoke.
"Baka!" she said, and tried to smile. "They left me alone after you — started fighting."
But how long had she been here alone before that? "Rukia—"
"Be quiet and let me heal you, baka," she said. "I'm fine. I'm an active shinigami, so they have to leave me intact enough to go to work. And Grimmjow-sama took me out of a — situation with a lower-ranked Espada which could have become unpleasant. And put me here to motivate you, which is what I should be doing anyway. So I have no complaints!"
He sort of wanted to ask what she considered unpleasant compared to Grimmjow's fraccion, but guessed she wouldn't answer, at least not right now. "I don't need healing, I'm — it doesn't matter—"
Rukia grabbed his face and looked him in the eye, her voice more serious than he'd ever heard it. "Ichigo. Your sisters are alive."
Alive?
Yuzu and Karin were alive?
How was that possible?
Rukia continued, in a more normal voice, "A few people from Karakura Town made it out into the Rukongai before the key was created, with help from Matsumoto and, um, Kuramadani-san. Matsumoto and Ise-fukutaichō sent them back to the Living World before… before Seireitei fell."
Some people had made it out?
His sisters had made it out.
He sat bolt upright, and then immediately doubled over bleeding and coughing and couldn't ask the questions he desperately wanted to. Rukia clouted him on the back of the head. Gently.
"I talked to Kuramadani about it. They had a car, and drove around a bit looking for people. Don Kanonji — it was his car I think — Tatsuki, Keigo, Mizuiro, Chizuru, um, it sounded like Ogawa and Kunieda from school, I think Tatsuki's mother, and maybe Keigo's sister — and at least one more kid Matsumoto detoured for, I'm not sure who that is — I can show you what I wrote down."
That was… good. That was good. "And they…?"
"Ise-fukutaichō had Jidanbō carry the car to the senkaimon, and had a reishi converter set up, and sent them back to the world of the living close but not too close to Karakura. And I saw them on TV when I was in the living world for about a day and a half — they made it fine."
"Tatsuki was there," he murmured, half to himself. "And Mizuiro." Between them they should be able to deal with almost anything. "And Don Kanonji's an idiot, but…" But he meant well and he had resources. He wouldn't let anyone go hungry.
They'd be okay.
They'd be okay.
Ichigo didn't realize he'd started shaking until Rukia pulled him into a hug. Then he just clung to her robe and tried not to cry, until the shaking stopped.
Karin and Yuzu were alive, and somewhere far away from here.
"We should—" he started, and broke off when his voice cracked. "We should probably… not advertise too much, that Yuzu and Karin are alive, just in case—" Ichigo broke off again. "My father. I don't know the whole story — or really any of the story — but my father's a shinigami, and — he knows, that my father's a shinigami, so he knows Yuzu and Karin — may not be quite normal, and if he knows they're alive—"
"Your father's a— No, never mind, point taken," Rukia said. "Um. I haven't been keeping it secret, I'm sorry. Besides Ise-fukutaichō and Kuramadani, Hanatarō knows, and he told Sado and Ishida—"
"We can just be careful from now on — wait, Chad and Ishida are okay?"
"Sado and Ishida are in Twelfth, but Szayelaporro is in Hueco Mundo trying to wet-dry vacuum up Kurotsuchi-taichō, so they're okay for now."
Ichigo tried to remember who Szayelaporro was, then decided someone would tell him later if it was important. He knew Twelfth Division wasn't a good place to be stuck, anyway. "At least they're alive. Do you know…" He trailed off, not sure what he wanted to ask.
"Lisa, Hiyori, and Mashiro are in Seireitei — they've been yoked by the Tercera, but seem to be doing all right. Hanatarō is fine. Fifth Seat Ayasegawa is… is alive and sarcastic. Everyone with bankai is still being held in the castle, so I haven't seen Renji or nii-sama or any of the other captains."
Ichigo frowned. "I… feel kinda like I saw them. While I was up there." Shame he hadn't been paying attention to anything at the time. He sort of remembered the red of Renji's hair, with bars in the way? "Sorry. It's gone. I was… out of it."
"I noticed," Rukia said, but she thumped him gently on the head, which took the sting out of it. "Um, let's see… Third Seat Madarame has bankai, apparently, so he's in the castle. No one knows where Yachiru is. And they took Matsumoto to the castle even though she doesn't have bankai. And the Shibas are still out in the Rukongai somewhere — they're probably the safest nobles there are, right now."
Karin and Yuzu were alive, and Orihime was alive, and Sado was alive, and Ishida was alive, and Tatsuki and Keigo and Mizuiro were alive, and Rukia was alive, and he had to believe the prisoners at the castle were alive.
So things could be made right, somehow. He'd make things right, somehow. He leaned against Rukia's shoulder and just — breathed.
"All right," Rukia said eventually. "You need a bath and a change of clothes. You smell."
"I had a bath in a koi pond an hour ago," Ichigo grumbled. He reluctantly accepted Rukia's help getting up, but the healing had been enough that he could walk on his own. It would have been easier in a less traditional building with more solid walls to lean on. "Where are we?"
"A house that belonged to a minor offshoot of the Kyōraku clan," Rukia said. "Distant cousins of Kyōraku-taichō. They fled to the main clan estate when the castle appeared."
Ichigo warily eyed a couple of fraccion, but they seemed more interested in the jug they were passing back and forth than him. "Are they likely to want the place back?"
"They're likely to be dead," Rukia said briskly. "Tōsen-sama targeted the clans in particular."
"Oh." Did that mean the Kuchiki—? Well, he'd ask her later.
"Here we are." Rukia slid open the door to a well-appointed traditional bathing room. "Be sure not to reopen any of your wounds!"
He didn't take time to soak, but he did scrub off as well as he could (starting several injuries bleeding again, to Rukia's vocal displeasure). Then he toweled off (re-reopening the injuries), submitted to Rukia's overenthusiastic bandaging, and shrugged into a too-large robe that looked like it had belonged to somebody's grandmother.
They returned slowly to the room where they'd been before. Again, Ichigo kept an eye on the fraccion.
"Nakeem and Di Roy," Rukia said in an undertone. "They won't start anything if the others aren't around. Nakeem follows Shawlong's lead, and Di Roy knows Nakeem might not back him up. Yylfordt and Di Roy or Edrad and Di Roy would be more likely to be a problem."
Ichigo blinked at her. "None of those names mean a thing to me."
"You may want to learn them. Oh, good, they brought another futon. Hopefully they'll get you some better clothes. And food, I'll get some food…"
His head barely hit the futon before he fell asleep.
Ichigo woke up when Rukia let go of his hand.
He didn't remember her taking his hand, but when he opened bleary eyes he discovered that she'd laid out the second futon to within arm's length of his, and his arm was still hanging out into the gap. He could hear Rukia moving quietly around the room. Getting ready to go to work, he guessed? The room door slid open and shut.
He could also hear birds, out the window. And some truly thunderous snoring from elsewhere in the house. Probably one of the fraccion — he really should try to learn their names at least.
His sisters were alive. His friends were alive.
The door slid open and shut again. "Ichigo, wake up."
"I'm awake." He opened his eyes and sat up. Rukia was wearing a weird, half-white shihakushō. "You have to go to work, right?"
"Yes — and Thirteenth is going out today, so I may be back late — but first I need to check in at Fourth — everyone with a yoke checks in every day, because they injure people even though they supposedly aren't meant to." She gave him a critical look. "Without your powers you don't have much of a defense against it, either…"
Oh, right. The yoke. The skin around the raised pattern hurt at the least touch, and it bled freely whenever the yoke activated, but at this point Ichigo was so used to it he barely noticed unless Grimmjow was giving orders. "Yeah, I guess… Should I go with you?"
"That was what I was thinking. We can eat there, too. Nakeem is going to come along to walk you back."
"…Which one is Nakeem again?"
Nakeem turned out to be the big one with the mask fragment covering half his face, vertically. The other awake fraccion was a skinny blond one called Ill-something. Ichigo noted that Rukia carefully stayed out of Ill-something's reach, but wasn't quite as wary of Nakeem. Both fraccion denied knowing of any better clothes for Ichigo to wear than the too-large robe he had on, but did find him some sandals.
"Yylfordt," Rukia said just as they were putting their shoes on, "do you happen to know whether your brother is still in Hueco Mundo?"
"Ha! Yes, and good riddance." Ill-something spat on the floor. "I hope he's gone another year."
"Don't we all." Once outside, Rukia clarified, "Yylfordt's brother is the Octava. Szayelaporro."
He remembered that long, stupid name. "That's the one you said had Chad and Ishida, or sort of had them, right?"
"Yes. He has Twelfth, and Twelfth has them, and according to Hanatarō he's seemed really interested in experimenting on Ishida whenever he's come to Seireitei. But he's still mostly stuck in Hueco Mundo trying to catch Kurotsuchi-taichō with a wet-dry vacuum cleaner."
Fucking mad scientists.
The walk to Fourth Division dragged, and Ichigo really wished for shunpo, especially when he realized they were — he was, mostly — being stared at. He tried harder not to limp, but he really was beat to hell.
He wondered if Grimmjow had a plan to make him get his powers back beyond fighting him a lot (and raping him when he lost).
He wondered who the hell had come up with the street layout in Seireitei, it didn't make any fucking sense.
He wondered if the staring people knew what Grimmjow was doing to him.
"Who are we likely to run into there?" he asked suddenly. "You said the captains were all still gone…"
"Everyone with bankai is still gone, yes. The three Visored will probably be there. Ayasegawa-san, Kira-fukutaichō, Ōmaeda-fukutaichō… I don't think you'd know the others."
Ichigo wasn't sure he knew the two vice-captains listed. He hadn't spent all that long in Seireitei, before… "Was Kira the one with sixty-nine drawn on his face?"
"No, that's Hisagi-fukutaichō. Kira-fukutaichō is blond, and usually has hair over one eye?"
"Oh, right, the emo vice-captain." He ignored Rukia's facepalm. "And Ōmaeda was… wait, he was Suì-Fēng's, right? The really big arrogant guy?"
"Not quite so arrogant, now," Rukia said with a grimace. "Most of his family was killed. Those three usually look pretty bad, don't comment on it."
"I'm not exactly in a position to throw stones right now." Rukia's healing kidō had helped a lot, but she'd focused on serious injuries rather than, well, visible evidence of being beat to hell.
"I suppose not. Oh, that reminds me — Hinamori-fukutaichō asked to remind Ōmaeda-fukutaichō to visit his sister…"
"Didn't you say his family was killed?"
"All but his youngest sister. Noble children are supposed to be being re-educated, rather than… all the things they're doing to noble adults. So it's just him and Mareyo-chan left, and apparently he hasn't been to see Mareyo-chan."
Ichigo considered that. The rest of the family dead, the city conquered, enslaved to an arrancar and 'looking bad'? He wouldn't be very eager to see anyone, either. But it wasn't about him. "Well, I don't blame him, but he needs to get over himself."
Rukia smirked at him. "Maybe you should talk to him, older brother to older brother."
"…Maybe I should."
Ayasegawa Yumichika
In the end, the Sexta's fraccion refused to allow Ichigo to accompany Ōmaeda to make sure he did his duty as elder brother. Instead, he insisted Ichigo had to return to the house to get started with "things", whatever that meant. Best case scenario was probably repairs on the house. According to Findorr and Ggio, Grimmjow, his fraccion, and his pet — now pets — were constantly fighting inside the house and destroying things, but Tōsen had prohibited him from just moving to another house and wrecking that one, too. The other arrancar seemed to find this hilarious. Worst-case scenario… Well, it had been pretty clear Grimmjow had let his fraccion have Rukia, but considering his obsession with Ichigo he might not want to share. Either way Ichigo was young an inexperienced enough Yumichika felt a little sorry for him, not that Ichigo would like hearing that, and so he offered to escort Ōmaeda to see his sister himself, so Ichigo could be satisfied when he was hustled off by what's-his-name.
Then Kotetsu Isane got into it, offering help to make sure Ōmaeda didn't show any sign of what Baraggan and the fraccion had been putting him through. (Which was, Yumichika would like to note, not as bad as what they were putting Yumichika or Kira through, but Ōmaeda was taking it worse.) Furthermore, she said she should come check on the children. Ōmaeda couldn't very well back out after that.
They stopped at Second first, to make sure there weren't any overnight fires (real or figurative) and for Isane to check on a few Second Division shinigami who'd skipped their follow-up appointments. It was midmorning before Ōmaeda, Isane, and Yumichika arrived at Eleventh.
Yumichika hadn't gone by Eleventh since he went to collect his things. He prided himself on not being sentimental, but seeing the division barracks empty and knowing the people who should be there were mostly dead or traitors had… stung. In a strictly non-sentimental way. Maki-Maki's account of the fall of Eleventh Division — or at least what he'd seen of it before being dragged off to identify nobles — had been… disturbing.
He was slightly curious what Hinamori Momo and a bunch of children had done with it.
"Have you visited before?" he asked Isane.
"A few times. We have an unseated officer there all the time, since we are dealing with a number of people attempting physical training for the first time and they aren't supposed to leave the compound. But there are a few recovering injuries there we like to check on — the yoke victims, mostly. And making sure no one else is trying a hunger strike."
"A hunger strike?" Ōmaeda said. "Whose idea was that? They didn't bring Mareyo-chan into it, did they?"
"I think it was a strictly Kuchiki thing. Hinamori-san had to bring Rukia-san in to get them to stop."
Yumichika could only imagine Rukia's reaction to that.
They got to Eleventh (should they still be calling it that?) just as Hinamori was leaving, frantically slicking back hair which had escaped her braid. (She seemed to have abandoned the buns entirely. Yumichika wondered why.) "Ōmaeda-san, I'm so glad you're here! Ask Hosokawa-san or Yūshirō-kun if you can't find Mareyo-chan. And Isane-san, if you could check on Atsuko-san and Yorimi-san — I'm so sorry, I've just been summoned up the Hill—" And she shunpo'd away.
Isane shook her head. "She is running herself ragged."
Hosokawa-san, Yumichika realized shortly after she met them, was the non-Kuchiki one of the girls Nnoitra had briefly yoked. She had a scarf covering her neck, but he recognized the hair, and she looked older than most of the others present. Also Ōmaeda couldn't seem to meet her eyes.
"Ōmaeda-fukutaichō — I hope you're here to see Mareyo-chan?"
"I — yes, I — is she all right?"
"…Distraught. Grieving. We told her that you've been very busy defending Seireitei from more attacks, but if she's listened to Ise Katae she might have some awkward questions…"
Yumichika drifted away, trusting that Hosokawa-san was prepared to shepherd Ōmaeda through potential "awkward questions". He could feel a familiar reiatsu amidst all the untrained, uncontrolled presences bouncing around the division compound. Not in the practice hall… not in the courtyard…
He located Maki-Maki in the mess kitchen, making stew with the assistance of three girls and a boy. "Aramaki-san! I wondered where you'd gone!"
"Sssshhhh!" Maki-Maki said frantically. "If Kasumiōji-chan finds out I'm here she'll try to stab me again."
"Some of the nobles you led arrancar to are holding grudges? Imagine that."
Maki-Maki nodded glumly. "I told Hinamori-fukutaichō I'd help train the noble, uh, kids if she let me stay here, and I was thinking of physical training, but a third of them hate me so I keep doing chores instead."
"Most of us couldn't keep up with an Eleventh Division teacher," said one of the girls. "And the ones who could are all Fēngs, and Shihōin, and you couldn't keep up with them."
"…Thanks, Noriyo-chan."
Baby Fēngs. Terrifying. "I don't know, Noriyo-chan," Yumichika drawled, "Maki-Maki is used to being beaten up by small children."
(Noriyo gave him a very unimpressed look. He bet she was one of Nanao's cousins. He really did need to find out if Kira had any living relatives…)
Maki-Maki scowled at him for a moment, then his expression shifted to something more anxious. "Do you know… what happened to the vice-captain?"
"…No. Or the captain, for that matter, although supposedly all the captains are prisoners."
"Oh."
It was hard to picture Kenpachi being captured, even for Yumichika, and he'd always been… not a skeptic about their captain, but a cynic. No one was really undefeatable.
(He hadn't had any assurance of Ikkaku even being alive. He thought he was, because most people seemed to be, but he wasn't sure.)
There was a moment of silence, even the kids stopping talking to watch them.
"So I heard your sword—" Maki-Maki started.
Yumichika shoved his head into the stewpot. The children shrieked in protest — probably more for the stew's sake than Maki-Maki's — and Noriyo-chan chased him out of the kitchen with a ladle. Yumichika was evidently also way too accustomed to being beat up by small children; he let her.
Hinamori Momo
There'd been a girl a year behind Hinamori in the Academy who'd been quite good at juggling, leading to a very brief juggling craze before some upperclassmen set a ceiling on fire trying to juggle flaming brands and got the whole thing banned. Renji had broken a window somehow. Kira got up to four balls before they had to stop. Hinamori had managed three, for short periods of time.
Now she was juggling regular vice-captain's duties at Fifth, regular captain's duties at Fifth, supervision, training, and caregiving of the formerly-noble children, additional "trusted lieutenant" duties as Tōsen assigned them, redesigning the yoke, and fighting Hollows in the Rukongai as one of relatively few non-disarmed vice-captain-class officers, and she was dropping balls everywhere. Her Third Seat had practically taken over at Fifth. She hadn't noticed the Kuchiki hunger strike until Hosokawa told her about it, Yūshirō had designed most of the training curriculum, and Aramaki-san was making sure the compound didn't fall apart logistically. She was sure Hisagi was covering for her with Tōsen. She'd almost gotten seriously hurt or killed four times, and while using your backup was good constantly having to be rescued by your backup was not. And it had been a week before she'd more than glanced at the yoke design theory.
(All of those glances had involved opening the notes, trying to read the notes, cringing, and closing the notes, like they would magically become easier to understand if she waited.)
She couldn't ask Nanao or Isane. She could ask Kira, but Kira's time wasn't his own. She managed to catch him in his office in Third a few times. Kuchiki Rukia was more available, and could work with her at the former Eleventh, but she knew less about kidō design even than Hinamori did.
She'd made basically no progress a week after that when Aizen summoned her to discuss it.
"That's all right, Hinamori-kun," he said kindly. "I didn't really give you all the tools you would need, did I?"
For a moment Hinamori imagined him handing off this task to someone actually qualified to do it, but it didn't last.
"How could I expect you to modify something you've never even had a chance to try to execute?"
She stomped down on the reflexive horror enough to think about that. Would that help? It might very well help. Would it help enough? She doubted it. "That would be helpful, Aizen-sama, but my lack of experience in kidō design—"
"Perhaps a yoke on Ise-fukutaichō?" Aizen suggested mildly.
"I — no, please, Aizen-sama, she's very busy already — I — I'll manage." Somehow.
He smiled benevolently. "A little practical experience should help. Loly, Menoly, if you would retrieve the prepared subject…"
Oh, no. She'd been hoping to get permission to practice on — she didn't even know, but someone would volunteer, Isane would help her find someone — but a subject picked by Aizen? Very unlikely to be a volunteer. She'd be lucky if they weren't fighting. She'd be lucky if it was someone the yoke wouldn't injure.
What if it was Yūshirō? What if it was one of the children even less able to tolerate a yoke? She'd feel a lot better if she were sure Aizen actually wanted her to succeed…
Aizen was talking again. "I don't mind if you call me Aizen-taichō, Hinamori-kun."
"I don't want to be disrespectful, Aizen-sama."
"Please do call me Aizen-taichō, Hinamori-kun. Doesn't it remind you of simpler days?"
That was the problem. Mostly all she felt around Aizen anymore was a sort of sick terror. He was just so alien and awful and perilous it was easy to see him as something entirely unrelated to the captain she had idolized. But sometimes he'd hide the physical signs of the hōgyoku, and he'd smile at her, and her heart would flip-flop, and she felt all the old admiration flooding back, along with fury because — because—
She just really didn't like it when he pretended not to be… what he was. But defying him wasn't an option. "If that's what you prefer, Aizen-t-taichō."
"That wasn't so hard, was it? Loly, do you have the subject?"
Let it not be one of the children. Please let it not be one of the children.
"Yes, Aizen-sama!" Chains clanked, so at least it probably wasn't—
Oh.
No.
Hitsugaya was chained hand and foot, and his hair was dripping wet, though his plain gray robe was mostly dry. He looked exhausted and sullenly angry. Hinamori couldn't see any change in his expression when he looked at her. He didn't say anything.
"Hitsugaya-kun," Aizen said pleasantly. "I've called you here to help Hinamori-kun with a project I've assigned her."
Hitsugaya just glared.
"Be respectful to Aizen-sama!" Loly shouted, shaking him by the collar.
"Don't bruise the neck, Loly," Aizen admonished mildly. Then, over Loly's apologies, "Hitsugaya-kun, I hope you aren't going to sabotage Hinamori-kun's practice. It's a very difficult assignment and it's meant to help people."
Hitsugaya's jaw tightened, but then he glanced at Hinamori, and closed his eyes for a moment. "What — do you want me to do."
"Just kneel down, and do what Hinamori-kun tells you to," Aizen said.
Hitsugaya got that teeth-grinding 'why do I have to put up with this' look on his face, but he went to his knees, and didn't make any protest when Loly pulled his robe down off his shoulders. It bunched around his cuffed hands and pinioned his arms to his sides.
"Is that a workable canvas, Hinamori-kun?"
"H-hai, Aizen-t-taichō." Hitsugaya flinched. At least this explained Aizen's sudden nostalgia for simpler days. "H-hitsugaya-kun, this m-may be painful, b-but please try not t-to move." He didn't say anything, just stared at the floor, and she looked at — to, at least — Aizen. "I'll — try to apply the non-compressed yoke, keyed to — to me."
He made a 'go ahead' gesture.
The bakudō incantations, the fortified ink pattern, the reiatsu weaving — she proceeded slowly and carefully, pausing to consult the notes whenever she could. Everything seemed to go just as it was supposed to, until it came time for the final seal. She was about to place it when Hitsugaya's reiatsu — as low as it was! — suddenly flared, and broke the whole thing to bits. Hinamori staggered back, afterimages burning in her eyes and her hand stinging with frostburn.
Hitsugaya slumped all the way forward, until his forehead was resting on the floor, and panted.
"Hitsugaya-kun," Aizen said, so very mildly. "I did say that individuals with bankai had to consciously submit to the yoke. If you aren't going to cooperate with Hinamori-kun's practice, why should I keep her around for it?"
That… didn't make any sense at all, considering Hinamori was the whole reason any of this was going on. She could just try on someone not a captain—
"No!" Hitsugaya blurted. Like he thought — like he thought Aizen was threatening to do something to her if she couldn't. "I just — wasn't expecting that. I didn't understand what — I didn't know what to do. I can do better." He shot a frantic look at Hinamori. She had no idea what her expression must look like.
"You want me to give you another chance?" Aizen asked silkily. "What do you say?"
Hitsugaya swallowed hard. "Please. Aizen-sama."
"Very good. Hinamori-kun, please try again."
Tears stinging in her eyes, Hinamori obeyed. This time it went on and stayed on.
She already knew what to expect in terms of physical damage, but it was still worse to see the reddening, sunburnt-looking skin when she had done it. And there was blood, too.
(Shirō-chan was Not Crying. He was really good at it, but she could still tell when he was doing it.)
…Blood even without any orders being given, which was rare in vice-captains and the Visored didn't seem to get it at all — shouldn't the effects be less severe yet on a captain? And it was still constricting — and that wasn't anger turning Hitsugaya's face red—
"I think you overpowered the bakudō," Aizen said kindly. "You'd better take it off before it strangles him."
She hoped it would hurt less coming off, but if so, it didn't look like it. The weave seemed to tear out of skin, and Hitsugaya failed to totally stifle a cry. His neck and shoulders were left marked with a labyrinth of tiny cuts and sunburn everywhere, with deep pressure marks around the front of the throat where the yoke wasn't supposed to go.
"That was an easy mistake to make," Aizen said. "You need to hold back more with the bakudō, and confine it to the framework set up with the ink. Why don't you try again?"
"I…" That wasn't optional, nothing was ever optional anymore. "Hai, Aizen-t-taichō, b-but, um…" She looked down, and tried to see only cuts and burns and ligature marks, not thin shoulders trembling with exhaustion and probably pain. "Um, for me to, to apply it…"
"Oh, that's not a very good canvas, is it," Aizen said. "I apologize. Just a moment."
Reality rippled, and the cuts and burns disappeared. At the same time, Hitsugaya screamed and collapsed — Hinamori barely prevented him from cracking his head on the floor.
Aizen chuckled warmly. "I do need to practice my healing, don't I, Hinamori-kun. Wait until he wakes up to begin, his reiatsu will fight it off if he's unconscious."
It didn't take too long for Tōshirō to come to, and he silently positioned himself as Hinamori directed, staring resolutely at the floor. He wouldn't meet her eyes.
The second time was better than the first time, because she didn't overload the bakudō and almost strangle Tōshirō, and also worse, because Tōshirō seemed to have burned through his stoicism and his breathing was obviously ragged and pained. But at least the yoke went on correctly, and came off with no more trouble than the first time.
"Very good, Hinamori-kun," Aizen said. "I'm sure that's given you a good foundation to work on modifications." And he patted her head. (She hadn't even seen him leave the throne.) Hand still poised above her, he asked, "And what do you say, Hitsugaya-kun?"
What? Tōshirō hadn't even been a participant, more a prop, why would he say anything—?
"Please," Tōshirō rasped, eyes fixed on Aizen's hand. "Aizen-sama."
Aizen laughed and patted Hinamori's head again. "Back to work, Hitsugaya-kun. Loly will take you there." And then, right in her ear, too quietly for anyone but Hinamori to hear, "He breaks for you so beautifully."
Hinamori flinched violently away, but when she blinked, Aizen was back in his throne.
"Do return for more practice whenever you need it," he said pleasantly. "Or for a demonstration of your proposed modifications when you get that far."
She backed out of the room, and ran.
Ichimaru Gin
His viewing windows changed on their own a lot — well, probably more changed according to Aizen's whims. He didn't usually have one into Aizen's throne room, so he knew Aizen would be expecting to discuss whatever was happening there when he showed up that night. Gin was tempted to refuse to pay attention out of spite, but the little drama with Hinamori and Hitsugaya really was quite good. And so efficient! You could practically see both of them crumbling. Hinamori disappeared from the available windows, but when she showed up again in Tōsen's office hours later, she was not only still pale but red-eyed. Hitsugaya was taken back to the proving ground and stared blankly into space until one of the sworn-shinigami-to-be — apparently trying to collect the whole set — got annoyed and decided to make him pay attention.
Of course, not long after Hitsugaya got back from mind games with Aizen, Komamura was dragged off for tea time with Tōsen. Komamura seemed really disproportionately upset about it. Gin wouldn't have wanted to listen to Tōsen try to convert him to his point of view, either, but it had to be better than listening to the proving ground. Even Gin wasn't very keen on listening to the proving ground, and he only cared about one person in it.
(Aizen never brought up Rangiku's predicament — he was waiting for Gin to crack and do it, Gin guessed. He'd certainly been watching particularly closely the day after Gin got the window showing Luppi mauling Rangiku — much less funny than when it was happening to Hitsugaya. The trouble was Gin wasn't sure whether bringing it up would make things better or worse for Rangiku.)
The only other interesting event of the day was Kurosaki Ichigo wandering around Seireitei a bit. He looked much better than he had even twenty-four hours earlier. Grimmjow might or might not be able to get Ichigo's powers back, but his re-moralizing scheme was clearly a dazzling success — more than Gin would have expected from just 'fight or the fraccion molest Kuchiki'. That could have gotten him moving, sure, but now he looked alive. Gin reluctantly decided not to ask about it, just in case Aizen hadn't noticed.
…He was getting a cramp. He wished he could shift position, but being melded to a stone chair was rather unforgiving.
Aizen arrived to chat after dark, when the captains were tucked back into their sekkiseki cells and the day's Rukongai patrols were dragging back to their barracks.
Gin smiled at him. Really it would have been harder not to smile. "Aizen-taichō."
"Gin," Aizen said. "Tell me, whose idea was it to have a captain who could liquify?"
Pesche Guatiche
Pesche had been with Nelliel-sama in Las Noches. He'd had run-ins with all sorts of other arrancar, encountered Espada, seen Aizen-sama. So when he said Kusajishi Yachiru was rapidly climbing the ranks of the most terrifying people he had ever encountered, that meant something.
It wasn't all bad. It had taken all of two days for the denizens of the Menos Forest to learn to avoid the tiny pink-haired shinigami, given any choice in the matter. So if they stayed in their base of operations, they were safe? From everything outside, anyway.
A few hours into their flight, Yachiru had leaned down — not very far down — to look Nel-chan in the eye, and asked, "Do you want to cry, or do you want to fight?"
Nel-chan had glared back defiantly. "Nel can do both!"
After a beat, Yachiru had smiled brightly. "I can work with that!"
Dondochakka had tried to explain about how Nel-chan couldn't just go back to being Nelliel-sama whenever she wanted to, that she had to be small. Yachiru had looked at him quizzically and said, "And? So?"
In hindsight "small" hadn't been a good approach to take. That Nel-chan couldn't access her sword had just merited a thoughtful nod.
So now Yachiru was teaching Nel-chan how to fight — with sharp crystal shards split off from the trees, and with her hands and feet. Nel-chan burst into tears frequently, but she stuck to the training with grim determination. (She already had lots of experience climbing people.) Just yesterday she'd done a backflip and stabbed the "training dummy" in the face. Pesche and Dondochakka were expected to train to get stronger, too, or else face the smiling wrath of Yachiru-shishō.
And then there was the pile of sand — wet sand — Yachiru had insisted they had to bring with them. Then she'd insisted on dumping it in a hole next to, but not in, their hideout, and went and poked it with her sword a few times a day. Pesche had even caught her talking to it!
"Ooze-taichō," she'd caroled. "Clown-taichō. I know you're in there." Poke, poke. "I bet you can hear me." Poke. "I bet if Urahara-san was turned into ooze and spread all over Hueco Mundo he'd still be able to talk and stuff and maybe fix Nel's mask."
The pile of wet sand made a noise. It wasn't a happy noise.
"I thought you could hear me," Yachiru said gleefully. "Why don't you see if you can figure out how to talk?"