A/N: My apologies, folks, for the lateness. Grad school caught up with me. Thanks for all the reviews though! I appreciate them!

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. At all.

Chapter 34: The eve of war

Byakuya had slept in the captain's quarters in the Sixth in only one other time in recent memory, the night before the assault on Hueco Mundo during the Winter War. It had been something of a joke among the other Divisions that the Sixth maintained captain's quarters at all, considering its past five captains had all been members of the Kuchiki Clan, and had all made their residence at the Kuchiki Manor. But the quarters for there, for this exact purpose. They were meant to be a place where the captain of the Division could stay, if there was an emergency and he was needed.

He had been remiss in many of his duties to his squad lately. He would not leave them on the eve of battle. He was determined to do that much at least.

The captain sat at the low writing desk of his quarters, a brush in his hand as he looked down at the sheet of paper spread in front of him. At this time of night, the Division was finally quiet, settling from the frenetic pace of earlier to a sort of quiet watchfulness as its members prepared to assemble at dawn. The only lights that burned were those in the courtyard, and the single lamp in Byakuya's own quarters, next to his desk. The men might have been asleep, but there was still a lot left for him to do.

Supplies needed to be taken care of, duty rosters needed to be written and revised, in case of an extended campaign, the Sixth's shinigami teams would need to be rotated in and out of the frontlines. They needed to ensure clear supply lines between the front and Seireitei, needed to make sure that they were fully equipped to handle injuries in case there was no member of the Fourth nearby, that each member of the Division knew their place, that anything they could assemble that could make communication between the lines easier was done.

It was a lot of work to accomplish when one was given plenty of time. It was a near impossible task under such short notice. But after everything that had happened over the past few days, he found that he could do no less.

As he paused to dip the brush in ink, he rubbed at the bruise on his cheek, remembering the way his brother-in-law had stormed into his quarters earlier. While it was insulting, and certainly a crude way to handle things, he couldn't deny that it had been…somewhat of a wake-up call.

Kurosaki Ichigo did have a talent for using physical violence to deliver wake-up calls, Byakuya mused, remembering their battle on Sokyoku Hill. That had been another, more painful lesson learned.

He set down his brush, glancing at the sheets of paper in front of him. He had gone as far as he could go without the records he'd left in the office. He'd avoided the office, because she was there, but he supposed that he would have to face her sometime. Chiding himself for his foolishness, Byakuya pushed himself to his feet, walking over towards the door.

He opened it to find Yuzu standing in the hallway, her hand upraised as if she had been about to knock. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the two of them simply regarded each other, staring in surprise as though neither of them had expected the other to be there. The spell was broken when Byakuya blinked, and Yuzu took a step back, lowering her eyes to the ground and clearing her throat. An embarrassed flush slowly spread its way over her cheeks.

His throat seized up, and at first, he found that he couldn't speak. Only decades of training allowed him to address her calmly, keeping his voice level and ignoring the fact that she had been in his dreams. "Did you…need me for something, Kurosaki?" he asked.

"No," said Yuzu, shaking her head. "I just wanted to—I mean, I just wanted—I—."

She bit her lip, turning her face away from his. He noticed that she was holding a stack of papers in one hand, as if she had been about to deliver them to him. He took a deep breath, remembering the way he had treated her yesterday. And still, she sought him out. The bruise on the side of his face throbbed, reminding him of painful lessons. The fingers of one hand curled inward, and he inhaled slowly as Yuzu took a breath to regain her composure, hugging the papers close to her.

"I'm sorry, taicho—"

"—Kurosaki, I apologize."

The words came out at once, spoken in the air between the two of them as though neither of them could hold them back any longer. Yuzu's eyes widened, and for a while, Byakuya couldn't speak. It was as though each of them had been transfixed by the other's apology.

"You…are sorry?" he asked her, when he had regained enough wit to speak. "What for?"

"For the way I spoke to you," said Yuzu, clutching the loose fabric of her shihakusho. "You were right—I was being insubordinate. I shouldn't have called you out in front of the whole Division like that. It's embarrassing for you." She shook her head, taking a deep breath and not looking him in the eye. "Taicho…I know that this wedding is difficult for you."

His eyes widened a fraction, his hand tightening around the doorframe almost imperceptibly. He managed to keep his voice calm, by sheer force of will. "…You do?" he asked.

"Yes," said Yuzu. "I know that…this probably wasn't what you wanted. But, taicho, I know that it's difficult for you, but you agreed to do it, so you should follow through and treat Azami-dono well. I'm sure Hisana-san would understand, and would be much happier if you didn't tear yourself up for her sake…"

Ah. I see. "Hi…sana…" Byakuya repeated, his eyes on her. She lowered her eyes further, holding on to the fabric over her chest. He didn't know if he felt disappointed or relieved that she had come to that conclusion. A part of him wanted to agree with her, to cement that idea further in her mind. Another part wanted to break her of it, to do something reckless.

To tell her the truth, if only in that instant. To see if she would have whatever part of him he offered.

But he was too honorable, and she deserved better than that.

"Yes," said Yuzu. "I know that you're still in love with her, taicho, and that this must be hard, but that still doesn't give you the excuse to treat either myself or Azami-dono this way. I should have been more understanding though, and for that I'm sorry."

"Do not presume to make excuses for me, Kurosaki," said Byakuya, causing her to look up at the sudden bite in his tone. His eyes were narrowed, but his irritation wasn't turned towards her this time. "What I did was inexcusable. No one should be allowed to speak to you in that manner. You do not deserve it."

"Taicho…" said Yuzu, her eyes widening. He looked away, stepping out of his room and closing the door behind him. While he would never admit it, the open door between them on the eve of battle was…a temptation he didn't need. He forced himself to turn away from her, to walk down the path towards the office.

"I have many preparations to make before dawn tomorrow," he said. "You should sleep, Kurosaki."

He heard her intake of breath but did not turn around. His mind was going back to Ryushin's conversation, and not for the first time, he wondered whether he had made the right choice. But it was too late for regrets now. There was only moving forward.

"Taicho…" said Yuzu.

He came to a stop, not turning towards her. "What is it, Kurosaki?" he asked.

"Tomorrow," she said. "I'd like…to fight beside you the way we fought together in Inuzuri. As…a team. If you'd allow it."

He exhaled slowly, walking forward again. "Don't concern yourself with such foolish things, Kurosaki," he said. "Within our Division, you always have a place at my side."

He didn't turn around to face her. He had the feeling the look on her face would be his undoing. Instead, he simply continued to walk away.

He stayed at the office for a few moments longer than he needed to, taking the time to collect his thoughts as he sifted through the notebooks on the shelf, looking for the records he needed. In the hour or so since he'd left the captain's quarters, the Division had gone from merely quiet to absolutely still, only the sounds of hushed voices and the occasional footstep reminding him that the place was inhabited. It wasn't a relaxed silence, though, but a tense silence.

The Sixth was waiting.

He took a breath, moving from one end of the shelf to the other, searching the records there. It had been a while since the Gotei 13 had been called out to deal with an emergency like this. The last time had been in his youth, when he had been the vice-captain of the Sixth. He remembered that the tension coiled through the night before finally breaking in the morning, an anticipation that brought them all to the battlefield. He had no reason to expect that things would be different today. He picked up another notebook, tucking it into the crook of his arm.

The sound of a thud made him stop, his eyes narrowing as he turned towards the door. His hand dropped towards Senbonzakura's hilt, and he closed the distance in a single flash step, opening the sliding door a crack. He peered through it, pressing his ear to the side of the thin door as he focused his attention on the hallway outside. There it was, another thud, coming from the officers' wing. He might have passed it off as a pair of his officers fraternizing when they shouldn't have been—soldiers were soldiers, and he had no doubt that a good half of his Division would accidentally find their way into each other's beds before the night was through—had it not been for the wet, gurgling noise that followed it.

To him, it sounded too much like someone choking on their own blood.

He pulled the notebooks close to him, tugging Senbonzakura out of its sheath with his free hand as he stepped from his office into the hallway. The officers' wing was dead silent, all of the Sixth's officer staff either asleep or otherwise occupied, except for that sound again. A pair of thuds, like a struggle. He paused at the corner, peering around the hallway, and saw that someone's door had been left open a crack, light and sound sweeping out through the gap.

There was another crash, and then a body fell to the ground, a zanpakuto clutched in the hand that rolled out into the hallway. There was a knife buried in his chest, pinning him to the ground, an ornate dagger, with a jeweled end crackling with light. Byakuya froze, his eyes narrowed as they fixed on the dagger. The body on the ground was Yamagishi Kazuhiko, his fifth seat, and that dagger was a zanpakuto, one that belonged to his sixth seat.

Okada Megumi.

The woman stepped forward from her quarters, stretching out a hand. The dagger immediately flew back, prying itself out of Yamagishi's flesh as it returned to its owner. His fifth's seat's head lolled back, sightless eyes peering up at him from across the hall. Okada's hands were stained with blood, and the eyes that fixed on him held none of her usual gentle expression.

"Damn," she said. "You weren't supposed to find me yet."

"You will explain yourself," said Byakuya, his voice cold as he pointed Senbonzakura at her. Okada's eyes drifted from the dagger in her hand to the sword in his, before moving to his own eyes. She shook her head, and a gleam of defiance entered her eyes as she reversed the grip on her dagger, light flashing along the edge.

"No," she said. "I don't think I will."

The jewel in the hilt gleamed brightly suddenly, a bolt of lightning focusing itself along the length of the blade before shooting towards him. Byakuya wasted no time in raising his sword, holding it up with the flat of the blade inches from his lips.

"Scatter," he commanded. "Senbonzakura."

Senbonzakura's petals enveloped him, blocking the lightning. He felt a presence at his back and turned, blocking Okada's kick with his forearm. He moved his head back slightly as her dagger hand came through, the blade whistling inches from his face before Senbonzakura's petals moved to attack her. Okada jumped backwards and out of the way, flipping over in the hallway before sending another bolt of lightning in his direction. Senbonzakura's petals moved to intercept it, a bright flash filling the air. When the flash faded, Okada was gone, her footsteps pounding down the hallway. Byakuya moved to pursue her.

"Taicho!" cried a voice, interrupting him. "Taicho!"

He glanced to the side. Shiyougi and Koyanagi were running down the hallway at full speed, swords in hand. Shiyougi drew to a stop when he saw Yamagishi, his face paling as Koyanagi stared after where Okada had run. He saw the questions on their faces and preempted them, not wanting to waste time.

"Okada has betrayed us," he said. "Sound the alarm."

"Okada?" asked Koyanagi. "There's no way—."

He was cut off as the sound of sword against sword rang out from further down the hallway, followed by the sounds of a scuffle. All three of them turned towards the sounds as reiatsu flared up in that direction—Yuzu's reiatsu. Whatever was going on, it was bigger than just Okada.

"Taicho," said Shiyougi. "The vice-captain—."

"Shiyougi, assist Kurosaki-fukutaicho," said Byakuya, turning his attention back to the hallway. "Koyanagi, with me."

"Sir," both of them said, the three of them flash-stepping away.

"Taicho! Taicho!"

Ichigo's eyes snapped open as the sound rang out through the house, followed by frantic footsteps coming from outside his bedroom. He quickly threw the covers off himself and sat up, grabbing hold of Zangetsu's hilt with one hand as he swung his foot over the side of the bed, getting to his feet. Beside him, Rukia was sitting up as well, tugging the covers up over her chest as she held onto Sode no Shirayuki's hilt.

"That's Hamasaki," said Ichigo, standing up. "My fourth seat."

Rukia's hand landed on his arm, her eyes moving towards the window. "Ichigo," she said.

Ichigo was in front of her in an instant, Zangetsu raised as a shinigami crashed through the bedroom window, spraying shards of glass everywhere as he stabbed down towards their bed. The tip of his zanpakuto skittered against Zangetsu's flat, coming to a stop just over his shoulder. Ichigo pushed back against the shinigami, knocking him back, and Rukia used the opportunity to flash-step out of the room, heading into the hallway. He felt her reiatsu flare as she unleashed Sode no Shirayuki and quickly turned his attention to his own opponent.

The shove left him open, and Ichigo cut down with one swipe, Zangetsu's blade cutting a diagonal path across the attacker's shoulder. He whirled, blocking another assailant as one came at him from the right and gripped his sword in both hands, cutting across his middle. The man's sword clattered to the ground. Ichigo's eyes narrowed as he caught a glimpse of his opponent in the darkened room. A shinigami, dark-haired, and dark-eyed, one he recognized. An unranked shinigami in his Division.

He grabbed a hakama from the closet, tying it on quickly and hurrying out into the hallway.

The house's hallway had been frozen completely solid. Rukia stood just outside the door to the bedroom, Sode no Shirayuki's unleased form in one hand. The other was holding a sheet around herself, bunching it up just over her chest. Inside the solid wall of ice that was the remnant of Rukia's Hakuren, Ichigo saw three forms in black and white, frozen in place.

All his shinigami.

"Rukia," he said, glancing back at her.

"Your fourth seat's back there," said Rukia, inclining her head towards the corner of the hallway.

Ichigo nodded, turning towards it. Hamasaki was tucked into one of the last unfrozen corners of the hallway, one hand closed over a wound in his chest. There were similar wounds on his arms and legs, and the hallway in front of him was stained with blood. The eyes that turned towards him were glazed over, barely lucid, and Hamasaki's breath gurgled wetly as he tried to speak.

"Taicho…" he said, as Ichigo dropped to a crouch in front of him. "…tried…to warn…"

"Don't say anything," said Ichigo, grabbing hold of Hamasaki's arm to stop him from speaking. "We'll get the Fourth. You'll be fine."

Hamasaki shook his head. "No—," he said. "The…fukutaicho. Help…the fukutaicho…"

Hinamori.

Alarm bells began to sound, coming from the direction of the Fifth, first one and then another. Ichigo's eyes widened, and he released Hamasaki's arm. He looked back at Rukia, who was still standing in the hallway, watching the scene with some concern.

"Go," said Rukia, her eyes narrowing. "I'll send for the Fourth."

"Thank you, Rukia," he said, flash-stepping away.

"Tobiume!"

Ichigo dodged the fireball that came careening down the hallway, pulling himself into a storage room just in time as the blast ripped through, carrying one of the attackers with it. The Fifth was in complete chaos. He'd flash-stepped over half a dozen battles being fought in the courtyard before coming here, alarm bells ringing from every corner as over four hundred shinigami were dragged out of bed. He flash-stepped again, appearing just behind Hinamori and catching a shinigami's blow with the flat of his own blade. Ichigo pushed back, throwing the shinigami into the wall and turning towards his vice-captain.

"Hinamori!" he said.

"Taicho," said Hinamori, breathing hard. She was dressed in her white sleeping yukata, her normally neat hair in disarray. Her hands were closed around Tobiume's hilt, and she was bleeding from a gash on her shoulders and another on her waist. As Ichigo watched, a flurry of small metal blades punched their way through the wooden walls of the hallway like steel birds, reflecting the light before forming into a river of steel and doubling back into the room they had come from.

Masa.

"Are you alright?" he asked, shifting Zangetsu to one and turning to stand beside her. There was no need. He realized that the hallway and the Division were now quiet, the only sound coming from the alarm bells that rang outside. He looked at the attacker he had pushed over, one of his thirteenth seats, and saw that the man was already dead, his own sword bloodied as he held it to his neck. His eyes narrowed, and he looked away.

"I'll be…fine, taicho," said Hinamori, breathing hard. His eyes widened as she doubled over suddenly, releasing her grip on Tobiume with one hand and wrapping her arm around her waist. Ichigo quickly reached out a hand to steady her before she fell over, grabbing onto her shoulders.

"Oi, Hinamori!" he said.

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm fine—just tired—put up a kido net…around the Division…stopped the attackers from escaping…Horin, Fushibi, Sho, Byakurai…Some got out…sent Hamasaki-san…you and Kuchiki-fukutaicho…"

"We're alright, don't worry," said Ichigo, tightening his grip on her shoulders as he pushed her back gently. "What the hell happened here?"

Hinamori wouldn't look at him. She kept her eyes on the ground, her grip tightening on Tobiume. "Murata, Nakayama, Tokuta, Ishikuno, Hayakawa, Ohira, Mitani," she said. "They were all…shinigami of the Fifth…from Aizen's days. The others too." Her breath caught. Ichigo stared at her, remembering what she had said to him on that first day, the day he'd first accepted captaincy of the Fifth.

"The members we have left are really great, even if they're not that strong! And they're loyal…"

Her shoulders were shaking. Ichigo looked up from her, turning his attention to the window behind them. The alarms were still going at full speed, and he realized suddenly that there were too many of them. Too many for them to just be coming from the Fifth. Hinamori sagged suddenly in his hold, and would have fallen over if his hands on her shoulders weren't keeping her upright.

"…Hinamori?" he asked.

"Aizen…trained a lot of shinigami…" he said. "They became officers…a lot of them."

Ichigo's eyes widened as comprehension dawned on him. Then, they narrowed in rage. He lowered Hinamori slowly to the ground, letting her sit against the wall and catch his breath. He straightened up, taking a moment to look over what was left of his Division.

Fifteen years. Fifteen freaking years spent trying to dig the Fifth out of the dirt. Fifteen years spent rebuilding everything Aizen had destroyed. His free hand clenched into a fist so tight that it started shaking.

Fifteen damn years.

"Ichigo-san," said Masa from his own quarters, looking out into the hallway.

Ichigo turned, hefting Zangetsu in one hand and walking down the hallway. "Lock down the Division," he told Masa. "No one gets in or out except healers from the Fourth. I want everyone who can stand in the courtyard in ten minutes. Go."

Masa stared after Ichigo for one brief moment before nodding and flash-stepping away.

Byakuya tracked Okada through the halls of the Division, weaving her way outward like a spiral. She was trying to make for the exit, he realized, trying to find either escape or safety outside of the walls, but she would find neither. She was not faster than him. When she attacked him—no, when she raised her blade against a shinigami of the Sixth, she had sealed her fate. He picked up speed, leaving Koyanagi behind as he burst out into the courtyard after her. Okada appeared in the air, a stunned expression on her face as she felt him behind her, and she turned towards him, the hilt of her dagger glowing brightly.

He said nothing, simply raised his hand, Senbonzakura's blades fanning out around him in a half-circle before cutting through the air towards her. Her eyes moved towards the blades coming at her from both sides, and he registered the alarm in her expression for a half a moment. He expected her to dodge, to counter-attack, to try one last desperate move to save herself. He expected all of that.

What he didn't expect her to do was simply smile, the panicked expression on her face fading as the blades neared and her hand releasing her zanpakuto.

It clattered to the ground as a thousand blades tore into her, smearing blood across the grass of the courtyard beneath her feet, against the trunk of the plum tree.

It was over just like that.

Byakuya stared at the body of his sixth seat, Senbonzakura's blades slowly returning to him and reforming from the hilt. What had caused her to do that, he wondered. He thought of everything he had ever known about Okada Megumi. She had always been a good and dutiful shinigami, ever since the day she had joined this Division from the Fifth.

Behind him, he felt a presence as Koyanagi finally caught up with him, the large fourth seat appearing just over his shoulder. Byakuya didn't look back, letting Koyanagi take in the sight of the blood-spattered grass and the body slumped against the plum tree.

"It's over, then, taicho?" asked Koyanagi, his voice hushed.

"It is," said Byakuya, giving Okada's body one last look.

"What a waste," he said, closing his eyes briefly as he took in the sound of fighting coming from the officer's wing. That seemed to be dying down as well. He exhaled. "Koyanagi, sound the alarm," he said, opening his eyes. "Send messages to the Fourth requesting medic—."

The wind left him in a rush, cutting his words short as something tore into his back from behind. Koyanagi stood behind him, both hands on the shaft of his zanpakuto's released form, a spear. The tip of the spear had been thrust straight through his back. It now protruded, bloody, from his stomach. Byakuya tensed, his hands clenching into fists as he tried to look behind him.

"Koya…nagi…"

He'd received worse wounds before. Byakuya knew that this wouldn't be enough to kill him. His hand shook as he raised Senbonzakura, ready to release the sword. Too late, he recognized the slow burn of poison, seeping through the wound into his blood. His hand went limp, Senbonzakura clattering to the ground out of slackened fingers.

"You know what your problem is, taicho?" asked Koyanagi as the world started to swim. "…You trusted us too much."

He pulled the spear back out, the movement accompanied by a blinding flash of pain. Byakuya opened his mouth, prepared to call out a kido incantation, something, anything.

He pitched forward, falling into blackness.

TO BE CONTINUED

A/N: It occurred to me as I was writing this that the logistics of the attempted assassination meant that some poor bastard's last sight in life was naked Ichigo.

Omake

Flashback: Cleaning up Inuzuri

"What the hell is this?"

Ichigo stood in the corner of the hut with his arms folded, his eye twitching as he stared down at a set of incomprehensible drawings scribbled onto the dirt floor. From what he could see, it looked like bears fighting the Seaweed Ambassador and some sort of smiling round thing beside it as lines connected them, coming in from all directions. He had no idea what he was looking at, but the Seaweed Ambassador told him one thing.

Byakuya had been here, alright.

"Hmm?" asked Rukia, looking up at him from near the doorway. The two of them were assisting with the investigation in Inuzuri following Kyoka Suigetsu's reappearance, their respective siblings already safe in Seireitei. She set down the pile of blankets she was examining, making her way over to him. Rukia's eyes lit up as they saw the drawing, and she leaned forward, poring over it.

"Oh, what a brilliant strategy!" she said. "As expected of nii-sama!"

"These siblings need help," Ichigo muttered, droplets forming on the back of his head as Rukia 'ooh'ed and 'aah'ed over the scribbles. He stepped to the side, increasing the distance between him and his wife. "…Lots of help."