Torn
Chapter 29: Shattered
Gin Ichimaru considered himself an expert at breaking people down with little more than words. His mastery of psychological warfare was unrivaled, and he assumed that over the many years he'd been a Shinigami, his own mental defenses had been instinctively honed by his own tolerance for watching people crumble into whimpering wrecks in front of him.
But every time he stepped into the large chamber that used to house the Central 46, chills would lance down his spine without fail. Looking down upon the glazed, content and creepily-dreamlike expressions of the captive Captains set Gin's teeth on edge, his normally-unshakable smile faltering slightly at the eerie spectacle.
"What's wrong, Gin?" Aizen's smooth voice asked from behind him. "Don't you enjoy the show?"
Ichimaru turned fully to address the illusion standing behind him, the method his Captain used to communicate with him across the space that separated Las Noches from Soul Society.
"I gotta say, Captain Aizen," the wily Shinigami replied, "at this point, it's a bit much, even fer me. Why not just kill 'em already, an' put 'em out of their misery?"
"Ah, but Gin," Sosuke parried casually, his own smile widening, "therein lies the point. They're not miserable at all. In fact," he continued, his cold brown eyes gliding over the row of enraptured Shinigami,
"I dare say they are all, at this moment, happier than they have ever been in their lives."
In spite of his commander's confident words, Ichimaru still felt ill at ease. The plan Aizen had concocted to keep the Captains restrained was as brilliant as it was perverse: each of them had been placed under the power of Kyoka Suigetsu's Complete Hypnosis, and granted the vision of what they desired most in their hearts. Given no reason to even want to try and break free from the illusory zanpakuto's hold, the powerful Shinigami simply sat there, rotting slowly but surely as their most cherished dreams played out before their eyes. Only Toshiro had been given a reprieve from his imprisonment, and even then he had been murdered shortly afterwards in a final test of Momo's loyalty to the lord of Las Noches.
Urahara, Shihoin, Kuchiki, Komamura, Kyoraku, Ukitake and Kaien Shiba were all imprisoned, with the only empty cells being the one that had belonged to Hitsugaya and two others that had never been occupied. They had been constructed to house the most volatile Captains of them all, but after the so-called 'Immortal Man' had utterly refused to submit, Ajax, the Quinta Espada, had lopped Kenpachi Zaraki's head clean off of his shoulders. Meanwhile, Aizen himself had personally ended the life of the second would-be prisoner, Captain-Commander Yamamoto.
"So, Captain," Ichimaru spoke at length, gratefully averting his eyes from the disturbing gallery of sublimely content faces, "what news?"
"It appears as though Ichigo has finally finished his training with the Royal Guard," Aizen continued casually, not worried in the slightest by the potential threat the young Kurosaki could now pose to his plans. "The time for the upper echelon of Espada to move once more will come soon enough, but until then I need you to ensure that the Espada under your supervision will be ready to mobilize whenever I give the order."
"Of course, Captain," Gin replied smoothly, before raising one eyebrow questioningly. "But what of Ichigo-kun?" he asked. "Couldn't he just wipe out the lower five Espada with nothin' more'n a flick of his wrist?"
"Ichigo will come to me soon enough, Gin," Sosuke parried, "and is none of your concern. Simply make sure your warriors are ready to hunt when I command them to do so. That is all."
Ichimaru nodded wordlessly, giving the captive Shinigami one last glace before turning around with a small sigh and issuing the call for a meeting. Momo arrived first, as usual, followed closely by Sun-Sun, Halibel's only surviving Fraccion. Szayel Aporro was next, then came a stoic Wonderweiss. Yammy's grumbling and obnoxiously loud, stomping footfalls announced his presence long before he trudged into the room, the 'one' of his tattoo covered up by his shirt sleeve to leave the true number of the Cero Espada's rank visible.
"I was in the middle of a nap, Ichimaru," Rialgo huffed out, cracking his neck to the side. "This had better be good."
"Try to show some respect for once, Yammy," Hinamori half-hissed, and the brutish Arrancar looked over at her with a gleam in his eyes.
"You sure you wanna be having this conversation, shrimp?" he rumbled threateningly as his hand moved to the hilt of his zanpakuto, but Momo didn't back down.
"Now, now, Yammy," Szayel broke in smoothly, "there's no need for violence here. Save it for the Shinigami rats scurrying about; I assume that is why you called us here, is it not, Commander Ichimaru?"
Gin's smile widened almost imperceptibly before he replied, breaking the tense silence that had befallen the room.
"Exactly, Szayel-kun. It looks like Ichigo-kun's finally back, an' Captain Aizen's about to give the order fer the final assault. But until the top five are called down here, he's gonna want you to be ready to move on command."
"Shit, like bringing those jokers down here'll change anything," Rialgo spat. "Aizen couldn't even make his own fucking Vasto Lorde; those force-fed slimeballs're all Adjuchas! I could take out all of these Shinigami scraps easy myself, Ichimaru!"
"Then I must be going blind," Momo spoke smugly, "because I don't think you've collected a single head yet, Yammy. Remind me why you're ranked as high as you are, again?"
"You little bitch—" the Cero Espada began, his fists clenching, only for the quarreling pair to be hit by an overwhelming wave of reiatsu sent out by Gin.
"Enough'a yer bickerin'," he said evenly, making sure his message was understood before releasing his crushing hold on the pair of Espada. "I have some people t'go see, things t'do. Szayel-kun, you're in charge 'till I come back. If you don't hear from me by sunrise, go ahead and start huntin'."
"With pleasure, commander," Grantz answered with a bow, and Gin nodded once before walking from the room. Once outside of the building that had once housed the Central 46, Ichimaru flashed away in a burst of shunpo, hoping that his first mark would still be awake.
Shiro left Ichigo once the pair had made it to the house that the Hollow said Rukia was staying in, along with some of the other refugees; those same refugees were out scouting for any stray Arrancar or Hollow, and Shiro had flashed away to go assist them. And yet, even if some of the survivors were out on patrol, Ichigo could tell by the reiatsu emanating from inside the house that Rukia wasn't alone. Still, Kurosaki told himself firmly as he squared his shoulders, walked up to the door and pushed it open, he owed that midget an apology for running out on her; he needed to tell her how he felt—
Of course, that wasn't going to be the easiest thing in the world with Renji in the room. The red-haired Shinigami was currently sitting across from Rukia at a table, and both their pairs of eyes snapped over to look at Ichigo as he entered. No one said a word for several moments, but when it was clear beyond a shadow of a doubt that the man standing before them was Ichigo Kurosaki, Renji's expression changed from shocked to something in between scornful and murderous.
"You—!" Abarai began, rising sharply from his chair as his clenched fists rested hard on the wood of the table, before another voice, much softer, yet much more resonant, cut him off.
"Renji, give us the room."
His brown eyes were confused as the Shinigami stared at Kuchiki, not knowing where she was going with this.
"Rukia…"
"Trust me, Renji," she continued, her voice becoming much harder and gaining an edge sharper than Zangetsu's.
"You're not going to want to be here for this."
Misgiving warred with a clear desire to have faith in Rukia across Renji's expression, but in the end he sighed, nodded, and walked out of the room without looking back. When they were alone at last, Rukia motioned wordlessly to the now-vacant seat across from her. Ichigo took it with equal silence, not quite sure what to say now despite his previous resolve to patch things up. For better or worse, however, it was Rukia who broke the silence.
"What are you doing here, Kurosaki?"
The flat, cold tone of her voice cut Ichigo deeply, the use of his last name burning like salt jammed into that freshly-opened wound.
"I wanted to apologize to you, Rukia," he spoke around the sudden dryness in his mouth. "What I did—"
"Was a complete and total betrayal of my trust," Kuchiki answered levelly, her piercing violet eyes fixing Ichigo with a look that made him feel three inches tall. "But since I doubt you came here to tear open those old scars, Kurosaki, I will ask you again: what are you doing here?"
"I already told you, damn it!" Ichigo snapped, his brown eyes flaring with frustration. "I wanted to apologize for running off and dying like a total moron, you stupid midget!"
"And you think that's going to fix things?" Rukia parried again, the hollow, hateful tone of her voice stifling Kurosaki's anger instantly. "You think you can just walk in here, say a few words and everything will okay again? Do you have any idea what I went through when you left? When I woke up and you weren't there, when the days ticked by and you never came back? You promised me, Ichigo!" she continued harshly, her voice rising in strength but not in volume. "You promised me that you would never leave me and run off to get yourself killed! You said that what we were sharing meant more to you than that, and I believed you!"
"Rukia—"
"Say my name again, and I don't care how strong you are; I swear to God that I will rip out your tongue."
Ichigo was speechless at the sharp, relentless and bitter tirade, and could only sit there, mute, while Rukia drew in a breath.
"You broke my heart, Ichigo; it's that simple. It took me years and years to claw my way back to some semblance of normalcy, and if you think I'm going to just turn around and trust you again because you managed to weasel your way back from the dead, I really don't know what to tell you. Just go, before I do something I might actually regret."
"Ru—"
"Get out."
Realizing that there was no point in staying to fight what was clearly a losing battle, Ichigo got up, gave the woman he'd fought so hard for one last apologetic look and walked out the door. Once she was sure she was completely alone, Rukia let her head drop down and she wept, her tears splashing pathetically onto the wood as the adrenaline and fury cut out from under her, leaving Kuchiki with nothing more than a hollow feeling in her chest, rather than any kind of vindication. She had thought closure would finally ease her pain, but Rukia knew that Ichigo's last look, and all of the promise it had held, would never leave her in peace.
Renji walked softly back into the room a few minutes later, his brow furrowing in worry as he saw Rukia slumped over the table. Her red, swollen eyes banished any shred of hope that the sleep she was experiencing was a peaceful one, and Abarai felt his chest clench at the sight of the woman he loved in such pain. Lifting her gently from the chair, Renji carried his best friend and closest companion in his arms out of the room, laying her down to rest on their bed and lying down beside her. As Rukia settled back against him and murmured contentedly, Abarai allowed himself a small, relieved smile.
Héctor was used to bouts of insomnia, but that didn't mean they weren't still annoying as hell. Fortunately a full moon was shining tonight, which provided more than enough light for some outdoor kendo practice with his zanpakuto.
Unfortunately, zanpakuto training was never done alone.
"Don't you ever get tired of this, kid?"
The pause before the sword's next rise and fall was minimal, but absolutely nothing escaped the keen eyes of the harsh voice's owner, and it pressed its advantage ruthlessly.
"I mean, what's the fucking point of training so hard, if you never use it for anything?"
Héctor ignored the barbs and resumed his exercises without missing another beat, but his sword strokes were decidedly harsher than they had been just moments before. The blue-eyed warrior's inner demon stayed silent for several moments, allowing Héctor to simmer; the angrier he was, after all, the more fun this would be.
As he took a break from his routine to wipe the sweat from his brow, Héctor found his eyes drawn to the hills in the distance, on the very edge of the vast tract of land that made up the Rukongai. He'd always wanted to climb up to the top of one of them, just to see what it felt like to be somewhere open, and clean. He hated being caged in like this, and as much as he knew it was for his own good, Héctor had too much of his mother in him to enjoy being confined, and too much of his father to take it well when people told him what he could and couldn't do.
"Then don't fucking listen to them, you pansy," the Hollow broke in again, violently pulling the blue-eyed youth from his thoughts. "Do what feels right. Go crack some goddamn skulls!"
Héctor continued to block the voice out of his thoughts as best he could, but it was getting harder to ignore something that was so integrally a part of him. As the young warrior thought about his parents, and the sacrifices they had made to raise him how they had, his confidence was boosted and he swore he would make them proud of him by not running out and getting his head chopped off in a duel. Sweat was beginning to slick his grip on his sword, however, and his vision was beginning to tunnel as his anger finally trumped his self-control with a vengeance.
"Do you have any idea who the hell your parents even are, kid!?" The Hollow belted back, the force of his voice dropping Héctor to his knees. "Your father's a fucking former Espada, and your mother's job is to slit people's throats open! You going out and earning your stripes is exactly what would make them happy, you idiot! And besides," it finished, the voice dropping lower into a sly tone, "D'you think they aren't ashamed that you were born? Your parents might be a few screws loose in the head, but they aren't stupid. You think they would've willingly brought a bastard child kicking and screaming into a war-torn world? Face it, kid: you're a mistake, and that's that. Nothing you ever do is gonna make them proud, no matter how much they lie and say they are."
"Shut the fuck up!" Héctor snarled, infuriated that he felt even a small part of his mind become paranoid that his Hollow might be right. If he could be swayed so easily by mere insinuation, it was only a matter of time before his inner demon subverted his will entirely and took over. And he couldn't let that happen, no matter what.
"All the resolve in the world won't stop the inevitable, boy," the Hollow retorted, his voice finally fading away. "Fight it all you want, though; in the end, that just makes me stronger."
As the back-and-forth between Héctor and his Hollow came to an end at last, the young warrior froze as he felt the unmistakable sensation that he was being watched.
"Can't sleep?" a light, almost airily mocking voice floated over to him from the shadows. "Neither can I."
Héctor snapped around, his sword held ready to strike while his eyes swept over the shadows, looking for the slightest hint of movement.
"Easy, kid, easy," the voice spoke out as its owner stepped out into the moonlight. It was a man with silver hair, eyes that were little more than slits and a mouth that was twisted into a grin Héctor found incredibly disconcerting.
"I ain't armed," he continued. "'Sides, I don't kill kids like you, don't worry. That'd make your parents real sad, I imagine, and I hate sad stories."
"Who are you?" the blue-eyed youth asked sharply. "Tell me now, before I cut up your vocal chords and you can't say anything, period."
"I'm Gin Ichimaru," the man said easily, and Héctor's eyes widened in surprise. "Yer Grimmjow-kun's kid, ain'tcha? Nice to meet ya, finally."
Héctor had heard of Gin Ichimaru, in the same way that children living in the Human World had heard of the Boogeyman. Stories of the shifty, fox-faced man's capacity for violence and capricious cruelty had etched themselves into the young warrior's mind, and now, confronted with the very image of that man, Héctor was caught off-guard despite his earlier bravado.
"Relax, will ya?" Gin said with a hint of exasperation in his tone. "I already told'ya, I'm not here to kill. Believe it or not, kid, I'm actually here'ta help you."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Héctor pressed, and Gin's smile curved at its edges.
"I know what you are, kid," he said slyly. "I can tell by your twisted reiatsu that you ain't no normal Shinigami; not by a long shot. You got a monster in ya, am I right?"
The mention of his condition put Héctor even further on edge, and Ichimaru continued quickly before the teenager could get a word in edgewise.
"There are others like you, kid. Did'ya know that?"
"What?" the young warrior breathed out in reply, still reeling slightly from the argument earlier with his inner monster, and now thrown even further off-balance by a wild surge of hope. "What do you mean, there are others like me?"
"What's it sound like I mean, kid?" Ichimaru shot back. "There're other people out there who've got your same problem. Go to the Human World, and you won't even have to worry about seeking 'em out—I'm sure they'll find you. I bet they might even teach ya how to control yerself, if you ask 'em real nicely."
Héctor felt his surge of hope grow, and was almost taken in completely by Ichimaru's words when he caught himself.
"How do I know I can trust you, Ichimaru?" he asked, and Gin shrugged.
"Ya don't," he replied easily, "but isn't it at least worth a shot, when the alternative is wakin' up one morning and finding your momma's blood all over your hands?"
Héctor was given pause once again by the insinuation that his worst nightmare could possibly come to pass if his Hollow was left unchecked; when he came back to himself, the warrior's sharp blue eyes burned with renewed purpose.
"Are you sure I'll be able to find these people?" he pressed. "If you're screwing with me, I'm going to make you regret it." Gin's smile didn't waver at all as he replied, despite the clear threat.
"Like I said, they'll probably find you," he former Captain spoke easily, ignoring Héctor's challenge as if it had never even been spoken. "Just hang around in Karakura Town long enough, and you'll meet 'em. But I'd get going now, if I were you; time's a-wastin'."
Héctor nodded tersely once, his eyes still sharp and wary for a few moments before he seemed to make up his mind. He then turned and used his zanpakuto to open a small gate to the Human World. Stepping resolutely through it, the young warrior moved through the space in between the dimensions and soon passed into the Human World, closing the rift behind him.
Gin chuckled as he felt another presence appear behind him just as Héctor's senkaimon had closed, turning around slowly to face the new arrival.
"Did I wake you up, Rangiku?"
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A/N: Whew, sorry for the loooong delay on this one-- Greek classes continue to grind on, and my Harddrive died not too long ago, so my laptop was in the shop for a bit. Big ups as usual to the one and only JasoTheArtisan for beta-ing this chapter like a true professional, and once again helping me beef up a few sections that might have been sub-par otherwise. Speaking of Jaso, you should all go read and review his story "So" if you haven't already; it's awesome. Once you've done so, read the sequel "Anonymous" and review that, too. It, too, is quality stuff.
And to pre-empt some of the shocked/angry messages I might be getting, let me just say that I'm trying to write these characters as real people, and there's no way Rukia would have been weak enough, considering her character, to just let Ichigo back into her life like nothing had happened. To me, this was the only way their reunion was going to play out.