Disclaimer: Nothing herein is mine, though I am pretty revisionist about it.
The Uncertainty Principle
A Bleach Fanfic
Chapter Two: Famine
Karin alighted on the ground, her feet sinking half an inch into… sand? It felt like sand, but it was the wrong color—too grey.
The entire landscape was grey, actually. It looked like a barren desert, except that some distance ahead, she could see what looked like pillars or columns emerging from the ground. The sky overhead was black, providing no light, but she somehow had no trouble seeing at all.
"Ugh, the air." Renji grimaced from beside her.
She nodded. It felt oppressive—kind of like being under a really strong reiatsu force, but worse in some way. It was that combined with the feeling that it was somehow dirty or sick—those were the best words she had. It had a taste like rot on her tongue.
On her other side, Uryū was looking at Urahara. The shopkeeper's eyes scanned the horizon; he wore one of those blank expressions that made it really hard to tell what a person was thinking. Probably he did it on purpose—the hat shading his eyes helped.
"So… what now?" Karin broached the topic when no one else did.
Urahara's eyes remained fixed ahead. "We find the lowest level. I can sense them, but it's faint." He jerked his chin at the pillars. "We'll start there."
He took a step forward and vanished from sight, kicking up a small cloud of the sand. Uryū went immediately after. Frowning, Karin slipped into shunpō as well, side-by-side with Rukia. Renji took the rear guard position.
The landscape flew past them at what had once been a dizzying speed. Aware of her position in the formation, Karin kept her eyes slightly to her unprotected side, wary. So far, she hadn't really been able to sense anything here, but Hell was such a huge blank in their information that even that was no sign that they were safe. The sand yielded under her feet, making every step feel a little gummy and slow, despite the speed at which they ran.
Still, they ran for half an hour without reaching the pillars. "What gives?" Karin asked.
"Some kind of spatial distortion?" Rukia added, pursing her lips.
"No." Urahara replied. "Give it a while. Your sense of scale will adjust."
He was right—but Karin didn't quite believe it until the ground changed underneath them. Then it was as if, all at once, she understood—the structure they approached was just so huge it looked close even when it was far away.
By the time they actually reached the place, even the shortest column was so big she couldn't see the top. The spaces between were strange—some of them were at ground-level; others regressed deeper, cutting into the stone and creating huge underground clefts. Karin caught movement from the corner of her eye.
"Guys." Approaching the nearest edge, she looked down, trying to ignore the sense of vertigo she got. The depth was just as staggering as the height of the pillars. Every so often, there was an opening, like the entrance to a cave, but no ledges or anything to land on. Standing in one such entrance looked to be a person.
"What's—" Renji started.
Urahara spoke, staring intently down at the cave entrances. "Togabito. The damned."
"Well… at least we know there's something in that one. Any idea which of these will take us deeper?" Uryū pushed his glasses up his nose, shifting his weight to center.
"Probably none of them." Urahara folded his arms into his sleeves.
Karin frowned. "Then what do we do?"
The shopkeeper cocked his head to the side. "This is the only the first level. The Togabito here are those whose crime in life was some unforgivable indecision or cowardice. What would none of them ever be able to do?"
"You can't be serious." Apparently, Uryū knew the answer.
Karin supposed she might, as well. "Jump," she replied.
"We can't even see the bottom," Rukia protested, making a gesture at the chasm.
"I know. Thrilling, isn't it?" Urahara grinned.
Karin rolled her eyes. His mental stability was really up for debate. "Well, let's quit wasting time then. We've got those kids to save." She gulped down her apprehension and pushed off the edge in a decisive motion.
It wasn't that big a deal anyway—there were hohō techniques for this kind of thing.
"Karin!" Uryū sighed and jumped off after her.
Soon they were all freefalling, more or less. It was actually a pretty strange sensation, to be falling long enough to have time to really think about it. Air whistled past her ears, tearing at the fabric of her shihakushō. But the uniform was made to be durable, and protected most of her from the little tiny pieces of debris that occasionally struck her on the way down.
"What the Hell is up with these people?" Karin had to shout to be heard over the rush. She almost winced when she realized the mistake in her phrasing.
But the question was legitimate—as they approached the level of the first cave opening, she got a better look at the Togabito. The ones she could see wore listless faces, expressions uncomprehending and vacant. It was almost like they were all walking around halfway comatose or something. Had they suffered brain damage?
"Maybe it's part of their punishment?" Rukia called back. She had her arms tucked in close to her sides, one of them resting on the hilt of her zanpakutō.
"Right in one, Rukia-san," Urahara said. "If you can't make up your mind… why have one at all?"
"That's barbaric!" Uryū said—Karin could see his scowl even from where she was.
"It is Hell," Renji reminded him.
"Look out!" Rukia's warning was sudden, but just in time.
Karin threw herself to the side with a burst of reiatsu to her feet, narrowly missing the massive limb that had been thrown into her path. Somehow, she hadn't even noticed it.
"What the—"
"Down there!" Renji pointed.
She followed his arm with her eyes, and spotted what he was talking about. From the darkness emerged what looked to be a pale human hand, only it was the same grey color as everything else, and gigantic. Karin's eyes went wide as another shot up from below—quickly, she got out of the way and drew her zanpakutō.
"Sobiero, Hisaku!"
The blade released; a gout of scarlet flames slammed into the palm of the grasping hand with a sizzle. The hand flinched for only a moment before it recovered; the scorch-marks disappeared like they'd never been there.
"Incoming!"
More of the hands rose up from the abyss below—dozens of them, at least. Karin ducked out of the way of one coming in from the left, only to feel something close around her midsection like a vise, trapping Hisaku down near her leg.
"Dammit!" The fingers around her tightened—Karin felt her breath leave her in an involuntary rush and struggled to pull in air to replace it. She could swear she heard her ribs creaking under the pressure.
"Shirafune!"
A rush of cold air hit Karin's face. Glancing down, she saw the wrist of the hand holding her start to freeze. Ice crawled along the surface, creeping up towards the fingers. A familiar segmented blade slammed into it afterwards, cracking through the ice and the flesh beneath, breaking the hand at the wrist. With a sideways lurch, it snapped off entirely, its grip on her not relenting.
Karin spun through the air, end over end, struggling to free herself from the rigid prison. But her lack of air was making her feel dazed and weak—black spots fogged the edge of her vision. Sounds faded in and out of her ears at what seemed to be random intervals, adding to her disorientation.
When something tore her free of the grasp, she didn't question it. Karin pulled in a deep breath; pain snapped through her body like a bolt of electricity. Her senses faded to black, and she lost consciousness.
Renji registered the new presence as nothing more than a flash of black fabric before it was ripping fingers from the massive fist still gripping Karin. The figure—tall, he thought, but nearly indistinguishable otherwise—threw his eighth seat over its shoulder, an arm around her waist to keep her there.
"This way, all of you!" The voice it spoke with was feminine.
In a move a lot like a hohō maneuver, it kicked off the empty air with a blast of reiatsu, aiming itself at one of the cave entrances. Renji slashed with Zabimaru, fending off another of the grasping hands.
"I don't think we have much choice, you guys!"
He alighted first at the cave entrance, Zabimaru still drawn. Ishida landed right beside him, with Urahara and Rukia after. All brandished their blades in one form or another.
"There's no need for that. Kisuke Urahara and companions." The voice came from just in front of them—Renji strained his eyes to peer into the darkness.
The figure saved him the trouble by stepping back out of it, Karin still in a rescue carry. The only difference was that Hisaku had been sheathed safely back in her sash.
"How do you know who we are?" Renji demanded, unwilling to trust anyone in this place without a very good reason.
Up close, he could see far more of the figure's features. It did indeed appear to be a woman. She wore a black cloak with a hood; the ragged ends of it trailed to the floor below them. Her face was covered, too, wrapped in what looked like a black zukin. Only one of her eyes—bright blue—and a few pieces of pale hair were visible.
Next to him, Renji felt Ishida stiffen.
Underneath the cloth over her face, she smiled, distorting the shape of the fabric. "By this point, those rebels have made sure everyone here with a mind knows who you are. I'm told there's a rather hefty reward for your capture."
Renji's grip tightened on Zabimaru—something which only seemed to amuse the woman.
From behind him, Urahara spoke. "And here I thought I was supposed to come voluntarily."
"And give you time to concoct some method of outmaneuvering them? Even they're not that stupid, I think."
"And you?" Renji demanded. "You sound like you don't like them much."
She tipped her head to the side. "Not especially, no."
"Will you give us back our friend?" Rukia took half a step forward, still wielding her shikai.
The woman nodded. "Of course. She should wake soon—it seems that she went a bit too long without air, is all."
With care, the woman slid Karin down her shoulder and into the crook of her arm, crouching to lay her on the ground. She stepped back, and Ishida immediately made up the difference by moving forward, rearranging Karin until she was safely positioned on his back, loose arms draped over his shoulders.
The woman studied him with her single visible eye for a long moment, then returned her attention to the others. "You're here for those children, aren't you?"
"And if we are?" Renji asked back.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, though, urging him to the side, and he stepped away to let Urahara through.
"We are," the former shinigami said. "I don't think there's much point in denying that."
That looked like the answer the woman had expected. "They have them captive on the deepest level. You'll need help navigating—dangers greater than those lurk ahead." She crossed her arms over her chest.
"And you're volunteering?" Urahara inquired slyly. "What're your terms?"
Her eye narrowed—interest, Renji thought, rather than anger—and she tipped her head from side to side several times like she was considering it. "The leader of this group that has taken your little ones. His name is Shuren. I would like you to help me bind him at the lowest level. I cannot abide threats to His Majesty, you see. I'm sure you understand."
"We help you deal with your rebels, and you help us get the kids back, is it? Sounds good to me." Urahara sheathed his zanpakutō at his waist—he didn't bother disguising it as a cane anymore.
"Hey," Renji protested, "you can't just decide that. How do you know she'll keep her word—we're in Hell, here."
Urahara shrugged. "Don't suppose anyone else knows how to navigate to the lowest level?" He let the silence sink in for a moment. "Well then." Returning his attention to the woman, he folded his hands into his sleeves. "What do we call you?"
She paused. "Amari will do."
The ever-present half smile on Urahara's face inched up at the corner. "Interesting choice." He glanced at the others, then back again. "We should get going."
Amari inclined her head. "You weren't wrong when you decided to jump. But the guardians there are… difficult to bypass. Our best bet is to take the longer way. We can descend through the levels individually. Follow me." She turned, putting her back to them, and started forward.
The darkness swallowed her. Urahara followed immediately after, and Renji quickened his pace to keep up.
He still didn't like this, but… hopefully it wouldn't come back to bite them in the ass.
"Can you explain a little more about this rebellion?" Rukia figured that if no one else was going to ask the obvious question, she might as well.
Renji was busy keeping an eye on their surroundings, still obviously not trusting Amari to guide them. Ishida was occupied carrying Karin, who hadn't woken yet. Urahara… seemed to just be staring off into space. That left her.
Amari glanced at her from the corner of a kingfisher-blue eye. "What do you wish to know about it?"
"There's really a King of Hell?"
Beneath the mask, the other woman smiled. "This surprises you?"
Rukia considered it. "I don't know if it surprises me. I mean… we shinigami don't really know a lot about Hell at all, so maybe it's just… anything would have been equally surprising." Her hand still rested on Sode no Shirayuki's tsuka, but for the moment, she'd sheathed the blade.
Amari appeared to be unarmed, but that was hardly a reason to drop her guard.
"There is such a person," the woman replied. "The King has ruled Hell for as long as anyone can remember, keeping order. Those of us strong enough to keep our minds down here—or new enough that we haven't lost them yet—serve. It spares us our other punishments, but does have its own… disadvantages."
"But there's a rebellion?" Rukia prompted carefully.
The cave floor, which had been on a steady downward incline, began to level out.
"Yes. Shuren and his ilk resist the rule of law. They believe that the king is hiding some method of cutting their bonds from them. If they can sever their Hell Chains, they believe they will be free to leave."
"Hell Chains?"
Amari's cloak shifted, then parted. She withdrew one of her hands, gloved in the same black fabric as the rest of her. Held in it was a silvery chain, about two feet long. "All of the Togabito have them," she explained. "They keep us bound to this plane of existence."
"Bound?" Rukia frowned. "Do you mean…?"
"We are not permitted to leave. Hell is ours for eternity."
Suddenly, the mindless Togabito on the first level seemed luckier. At least they weren't aware of that fact. Rukia couldn't even imagine what it would be like, to be stuck here for so long. Was any crime really so heinous as to warrant that kind of punishment?
And if such transgressions did exist, which of them had Amari committed?
The tunnel opened up, spitting them out into what must have been the next level. Rukia's eyes widened; she heard Renji suck in a surprised breath behind her.
"The second level," Amari said dispassionately. "For crimes of intemperate desire."
It took the form of a massive canyon, the stone walls in sunset hues. The group stood on one edge of it, close enough to see that the walls on the other side were covered in Togabito, emaciated bodies strung up by the chains in their chests. Their bodies were locked in place by what looked like thick iron bands, their eyes covered by strips of fabric.
Urahara studied the macabre display with a tilted head. "Complete sensory deprivation?" he asked.
"Perceptive," Amari replied. "Yes. They cannot sense anything—not even spiritual energy. They are left with their desires intact but impossible to fulfill. Even the desire for light."
"Don't they die?" Renji asked, looking vaguely ill.
"Of course they do," Amari said. "But they are bound here, and so they simply reappear, bound and deprived anew."
Rukia's stomach turned. She was prevented from saying anything else, however, by a sudden noise from behind. Turning, she saw Ishida stop walking; he held himself steady. It would seem Karin was waking up. Her hand bunched in the front of his shihakushō for a second; she lifted her head from his shoulder, looking confused for all of a moment before her face assumed its usual scowl.
"What happened?"
Ishida lowered her carefully to the ground. "We're on the second level now. Can you walk?"
Karin cracked her neck to either side, rolling her shoulders around and checking that Hisaku was in the right place. "If you can explain while I do, sure."
The journey down the canyon was hardly pleasant. Uryū found it easier not to seethe or try to cut down the suffering Togabito if he focused only on the reason they were here in the first place. As far as he knew, every second could make the difference in what happened to Jinta and Ururu. He owed it to them to make haste.
The way down was a narrow path carved into the side, the only part of the canyon wall without spirit-bodies hanging from it. Still, they were close enough to smell—and it was overwhelming. The stench of unwashed bodies, decay, and wet heat. Karin was openly covering her nose; he was tempted to follow her example.
The floor of the canyon wasn't really much better—but if the breeze that gently stirred his hair was anything to go by, there was fresher air coming from somewhere. Though fresh might have been a stretch. This whole place reeked of stagnancy at best. Their mysterious guide's zukin made a lot more sense when he considered that it probably helped mask the smell.
Keeping his eyes fixed on the trail ahead, he walked in Urahara's footsteps over the canyon floor. Something about Amari—he thought it was the eye. It seemed too familiar to him. The color especially. He wanted to get a better look and see if it might not jog his memory—something like that was bound to be important.
"Heads-up, guys," Renji said. "We've got company."
Uryū lifted his eyes. Further down in the direction they were moving, he could make out half a dozen cloaked silhouettes. The largest had to be about eight feet tall, but most of them were about the size of a human.
"Tch," Amari scoffed. "Rebels."
"Tough luck, shinigami," said one of them, near the center. "Running into us." He paused just long enough to lock eyes with Uryū.
"Get them."
They scattered, and Uryū's group did the same, spreading out over the canyon for room to maneuver. The one who'd spoken followed him, drawing what looked to be a claymore from the large sheath on his back and swinging down.
Uryū flashed to the right with shunpō, drawing Yorugen in time to block the next blow. It came in from the side; he angled his block to jar his opponent's arms. The Togabito grinned at him with a mouth full of jagged teeth, lips cracking and beading with blood.
"Yasushi Ando, at your service," he hissed, swinging again. "Who might you be?"
Uryū ducked under the swing, darting away from the next one with a flash step. "I hardly thing my name should matter," he replied flatly.
"Maybe not," Yasushi conceded. "But it's just good manners, isn't it?"
The temptation to roll his eyes was high, but to do so would be to take them off his foe, and he was smarter than that. "Fine then," he said. "Uryū Ishida. Tenth seat of the Eighth Division." Did they even know what Soul Society was like down here? Didn't the dead lose their memories when they died? Even if not…
"Tenth seat? That sounds pretty low," the Togabito said. The chain dangling from his chest—iron-colored and flecked with something red—jangled harshly as he swung again.
Uryū didn't bother dignifying such a comment with a response. "Tachikomero, Yorugen."
The sword split in his hands, reforming into his twin shikai. He crossed them in front of him to block the next downward stroke of Yasushi's claymore.
The Togabito was strong, and his sword was heavy, meaning that it had a great deal of extra momentum behind it. But Uryū preferred that in an opponent. His mouth curled upwards just a fraction; he intentionally let his left arm slacken. Yasushi, bearing down with his weight, was thrown to that side.
He recovered quickly, slashing for Uryū's exposed midsection, but the blade passed right through, harmless as a breeze.
"What the—"
His confusion left him wide open; Uryū took advantage, striking with both swords. He hooked one each into the flesh of Yasushi's shoulders and pulled, placing his foot strategically and throwing the Togabito over his hip. Yasushi landed heavily on his back—Uryū withdrew Yorugen with a sharp motion that left twin bloody furrows on either side of his neck.
Before he could so much as contemplate the deathblow, however, Yasushi was back on his feat.
"Impressive," the Togabito said, rolling his shoulders. "But not impressive enough."
"You like to talk, don't you?" Uryū asked.
"Don't you?" Yasushi asked, giving the blade another swing; he was much faster this time. "You look like the kind of guy that likes to show off how smart he is."
Uryū's eye twitched. That one hit a little close to home. He bent backwards, hearing a low whistle as the heavy blade passed by.
He'd once paused to explain something to Kyōraku-taicho in the middle of a practice match.
He would never do so again.
Striking quickly, he reeled backward when his blow clanged off the claymore. Something was off about that—it shouldn't shake his arms so much, given the force he'd struck it with…
"You like it?" Yasushi asked, grinning again. "Hellforged steel. In conjunction with my reiatsu, it produces extra feedback when struck. Hit it too hard, and it'll shake you down to your bones and you'll fall apart at the seams."
"Kage-e," Uryū murmured.
"What's that? I didn't catch—" Yasushi leaned to the side, cutting himself off.
Yorugen's left-hand blade missed him by six inches, easily.
"Did I shake you so bad you can't even aim, shinigami?" he mocked, raising his blade again to swing.
A thin red line appeared right where his right arm met his body, bursting apart a second later with a spray of blood. The limb came off entirely, falling uselessly to the ground with a soft thud. For a moment, their battle was swallowed in silence, the sounds of the others fighting filtering in to take its place. Uryū picked out the popping snap of Karin's flames—but he did not divert his attention.
"What the fuck did you do?" Yasushi demanded, hefting the Hellforged blade in his remaining arm.
Uryū swung again, this time missing over his head. The shadow of the hook-sword passed right over Yasushi's throat; he choked as his windpipe opened to the air. Uryū, with no desire to leave him like that, stabbed the hook of his second blade into the space over his shoulder, angling it upwards.
A puncture opened up in Yasushi's neck; the exit wound bursting open from the middle of his skull. Uryū had no idea how long it would take him to revive, but hopefully it would be long enough for them to make it out of here. Glancing around, he saw a jet of crimson light decapitate one of the other Togabito. Karin's opponent was already a smoking mass on the ground. Ice closed over Rukia's foe's face, cutting off her shrieking. Renji took down the giant, slicing into his achilles tendon with Zabimaru.
Amari took the head of her opponent between her hands and wrenched, ending his life with a wet cracking sound.
"Everyone okay?" Renji asked.
The others nodded or made sounds of affirmation.
"These ones were small fry," Amari told them. "When we run into Shuren's more direct subordinates, it will not be so easy. Prepare yourselves."
Uryū pursed his lips, sighing through his nose. It was hardly surprising, but still…
"How many levels are there?"
Amari crossed her arms. "It depends on how you divide them. But the landscape will change four times. We should keep moving."
"So, Amari." Kisuke said the words lightly, leaning back against the stone behind him.
This third level was mostly a large island supported on the bent forms of uncountable Togabito. The punishment suited for those who'd taken advantage of others in their lifetimes, it seemed. They'd stopped to rest a while, and plan their entrance into the lowest two levels. Hell was having unpleasant effects on some of the others—while he might have kept going by himself, he understood their need for a breather.
"You seem awfully helpful for a damned soul. No desire to break your own chains?"
Underneath her mask, she smiled at him. "Do I puzzle you, Kisuke Urahara? I'm ever so flattered." He recognized the light tone very well; he let own smile turn wolfish in response.
"Seems to me like I'm the one who should be flattered. Did those rebels of yours really spread word of me so far?"
She cocked her head to the side. "Yes, but that's not the reason I know of you. The King spends much time observing the outer world, from the throne room. Some events—some people—are more interesting than others. I have seen a great deal of it, myself." Her eye was sharp.
"I admit, even I wanted to meet you."
He blinked. "Is that so? Really, it's too much. I'm just a man with a candy store, you know."
The eye narrowed to a sliver of iris. Mirth, he believed.
"And I am just a Togabito. Like any other, I have sinned gravely, and so I am damned. Perhaps, if it were you, you could break this chain, but that does not mean you should. I understand that well enough."
"You're just… fine with how things are?" Karin broke into the conversation.
Urahara turned his eyes to her, then flicked them to where Uryū and Rukia were speaking quietly—Renji had volunteered to watch while the remainder of them rested.
"I have… what is the idiom? Made my own bed. Now I must lie in it," Amari replied.
"What'd you do that was so bad, anyway?"
"That's a heavy question to ask someone, don't you think?"
Karin looked only slightly repentant. Crossing her legs underneath her, she shrugged. "It's not like I'm making you answer."
Kisuke turned his eyes up to the yellowed sky. They'd fallen through it once they reached the end of the canyon—he could still see the spot. Going back up was likely to be harder than going down, but at least they'd know how.
"I tried to kill my brother," Amari said simply, lifting her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug.
Karin frowned. "Tried? They put you down here for attempted murder?"
Amari shook her head slowly. "You misunderstand. My sin was not the attempt—it was the failure."
"Wait. You're down here because you didn't kill someone? That's fucked up." Karin crossed her arms. Her left knee bounced up and down—she certainly didn't bother concealing what she was feeling.
Kisuke almost envied her that.
"Come on," he said, gesturing the other two over. "We need a plan for these last levels."
Hold on Ururu, Jinta. I'm almost there.
Term Dictionary:
Sode No Shirayuki – 袖白雪 – "Sleeved White Snow." Rukia's zanpakutō. It's techniques are all mae (舞), dances, and its release command is the imperative of 'to dance.' The technique she uses in this chapter, Shirafune (白刀) "white sword," gathers moisture into the tip of the blade and freezes it, extending the blade. It also begins to freeze whatever it comes into contact with.
Zukin –頭巾 – "Hood/kerchief." A general term, but when used specifically, can refer to a special type of headwrap associated in popular culture with ninja. Amari wears one that also covers her left eye.
Amari – 余り – "Remnant, residue." As with many Japanese words, 'amari' could be any of a large number of combinations of characters, but this is the one she means. It's obviously not usually a given name. Because it's a rather common phrase to find (in constructions meaning "not very" or "not much" of whatever), it's something of a dry joke that the others could be expected to understand.
Kage-e – 影絵 – "Shadowplay." One of Yorugen's special techniques. It allows Uryū to temporarily and instantaneously switch places with his own shadow, meaning that any attacks "he" takes don't do anything, but attacks his shadow takes damage him as normal. Likewise, the attacks he delivers don't do any harm, but his shadow gains the ability to cut and damage as normal. His appearance doesn't change, but he becomes incorporeal and his shadow solid.