Thanks as always to everyone who's left a thoughtful review, or just read and enjoyed the fic so far :D I also appreciate my helpful betas, B and Q, who always have awesome suggestions!


Ichigo was alone when he woke up, thankfully. It was humiliating, being treated like a pitiful stray dog, huddling against Grimmjow for warmth. It didn't matter that he'd been freezing his ass off. He stretched, and felt a dull ache in his shoulder from fighting the day before, and from sleeping in such an awkward position. Ichigo didn't mind the scratch wound—it was nothing—but Grimmjow's possessive attention to it made his skin crawl.

The wind had died down during the night, though not before it'd blown enough sand into their sheltered crevice to coat Ichigo in a fine, itching dust. Every pore felt clogged and grainy, and his eyes stung from the sand that'd become caught in his eyelashes. He crawled out of their hiding place, and the entire desert looked rearranged and foreign; Ichigo knew he'd be lost in this place without Grimmjow as a guide, and it sickened him.

He'd hoped on some level that getting away from Las Noches would give him an opportunity to escape, but after playing along with Grimmjow's mission, he'd come to grudgingly realize that striking off on his own would be foolish. He hadn't even noticed the shift in the wind the day before that led to the blistering sandstorm, and would've been caught out in the open had he been on his own.

"Finally up, you lazy-ass," Grimmjow's voice made him jump; the arrancar was perched on top of their rocky cover, grinning in irritating smugness. Clearly, though he'd put up enough of a stink about it the night before, the man had gotten plenty of sleep. He looked ready for another day of walking aimlessly, his clothes stained rusty brown from the previous day's fight. Ichigo realized he must've looked just as awful, and wondered why the hell he'd gone along with this idiotic scheme in the first place.

"Piss off," Ichigo yawned. He scratched his itchy scalp; it was going to take an hour-long soak in the tub to get rid of all the sand and blood crusted onto him. "Where're we going, Grimmjow?"

"What, bored already? And we were just starting to have fun yesterday." The smug leer didn't leave Grimmjow's face, as though he couldn't wait for another repeat of their earlier fight. Ichigo wasn't surprised, but the arrancar's attitude was beginning to wear against his last nerve. "Lucky for you, we're getting close. I can feel it now, not too far off."

"And what're you feeling?" Ichigo snorted. He couldn't tell a damn difference, and though he knew he was terrible at sensing reiatsu, he hated that Grimmjow was better at it than he was. It was petty, but he didn't care.

"Something big. What we came out here for, right? The strongest fucking hollow we can find." Grimmjow leapt down beside him and punched Ichigo's arm, making him stumble. "You're still up for it, ain't ya?"

"I can take anything you can, asshole!"

"Che, we'll see about that, won't we."

And Grimmjow started off, his shoulders thrown back confidently. Ichigo half wanted to rush him right then, for treating him as such a minor threat. Every small indignity seemed magnified, and his patience was nearing the snapping point.

Ichigo estimated they were at least two days into the desert, though he doubted he'd be able to find his way back to Las Noches on his own—as if he wanted to return to that place. But getting away from it, even if it was temporary, was welcome; he was surprised to find himself enjoying the fights he shared with Grimmjow, if simply because they were on more equal terms. Not completely fair, still, but more than Ichigo was afforded under Aizen's watchful gaze. It bothered him, the way the shinigami captain had tempted him with defeating Grimmjow and taking over his position. Ichigo imagined it would be impossible back at the palace, and he truly had no interest in Grimmjow's rank, but Aizen's poisoned suggestion lingered in his mind.

Ichigo caught up to the other man, walking at his side. "So how powerful is this thing, anyway?"

"What, you can't even tell that? You're hopeless."

"Shut up," Ichigo snapped. It was annoying precisely because it was true.

Grimmjow shrugged. "Seems big, even from here. A lot better than Nel's little bitch."

Ichigo waited for a moment and Grimmjow continued, "Anything less than adjucas, and it's a wasted effort to turn something into an arrancar. Aizen only wants the best, and that's why it took us so long to get out here—they've already collected whatever's worthwhile closer to Las Noches, but this thing I feel, it's more than anything Aizen's seen in weeks."

Ichigo said nothing in return; he knew only the basics of what Soul Society had told him of the change in hollow evolution. It made him wonder what Grimmjow had been like before he'd become an arrancar. Most likely as insufferable then as he was now—or worse, were that even possible. Ichigo had gotten a few clues to the arrancar's true nature when Grimmjow had released his resurrection-form, and was almost afraid to ask if that was a true reflection of his old self—hair down to his ass like an idiot, and twice the obnoxious show-off that he normally was.

Ichigo had been glaring at the arrancar from the corner of his eye, and Grimmjow'd taken notice, turning and leering with a mouth full of teeth. "Like what you see, huh? You looking to start a fight, prick?"

"Hardly," Ichigo snapped, and crossed his arms over his chest. He turned his gaze to the space before them; more rocks were poking out of the sand as Grimmjow led them towards fuck-knew-what.

Grimmjow made a huffing sound, "Finally learning your place, then. That's something, at least."

"You're delusional."

Grimmjow stopped abruptly, and Ichigo tensed, expecting the fight he'd been passively provoking. Instead, the arrancar was staring at the distance, his eyes eager and transfixed. "Tell me you can't feel that, eh?" Grimmjow murmured. "I can tell he's there, all the way from here. We're close."

Ichigo shut his eyes, concentrating. He couldn't tell anything on the outset, but clenched his eyes hard, and in the distance, he felt something—like a white spark that turned into an ember, burning still even when he rose his head. "I can feel him."

"Hah," Grimmjow smiled. "Can you see how strong he is then, yeah? I can't wait to meet him." He turned towards Ichigo with a wide-grinning face. "You ready, shinigami?"

"For anything you can dish out, bastard," Ichigo snarled, and Grimmjow laughed.

"Then let's go!" He sprang into a run, as if racing. Ichigo had to press himself to catch up, and then the two of them were equal; Grimmjow using sonido to leap over miles and miles while Ichigo followed him using his own speed.

It took only moments, and without even trying, Ichigo could feel something before them, strong and oppressive. He hated to imagine what it might be, and didn't share in Grimmjow's unrestrained excitement.

"Fuck, I can't wait for this," Grimmjow said, as if all he longed for was a fight. Before them were cobbled, broken boulders like the rocks they'd huddled under the night before.

"What's the plan?"

Grimmjow shrugged dismissively, "Find him. Fight him, whatever it takes. He's coming with us, but probably won't want to."

"How are you planning on taking him back?"

Grimmjow seemed too preoccupied with the present to be concerned with what happened after. "Che, that's easy; worry about beating him, huh?" Grimmjow said, and shoved Ichigo, making him stumble. "You start here, yeah? I'll catch you on the other side, shinigami."

And then he disappeared in a burst of static. Ichigo bristled, annoyed. On the other side of what?

Just like Grimmjow to drag him along and then make him do all the work. Ichigo didn't even know what he was looking for. The area was unlike the uniform dunes they'd passed through earlier; rocks worn down by the weather like a crushed ant's nest. He wandered, sensing with his meager abilities—Grimmjow was beyond him at a great distance, working his way from the opposite end of the rubbled area.

Distracted as he was following Grimmjow's reiatsu, Ichigo failed to notice the presence before him until it spoke. "I was thinking I'd have to chase after such a treat like yourself, but here you came right to me."

He halted, feeling as though his stomach was falling straight out of him—the thing in front of him was enormous. A hollow to be sure, but nothing like Ichigo had seen yet in their travels; it was huge and its reiatsu was repulsive and consuming. Ichigo's hand went immediately to Zangetsu at his side—if it truly was his sword, which he still doubted, but he wasn't exactly afforded the luxury of doubt at a time like this. "Holy shit," Ichigo hissed, and the hollow chuckled

"Strange to have such a little thing giving off so much power," it said. It towered above him: a giant snake, Ichigo thought at once, with a hollow-bone mask covering its snouted face. Its tongue flicked out, and it was black and forked. "But your scent is different—here I thought I'd finally enjoy a shinigami for the first time in ages, but you stink of hollow, boy."

"I am a shinigami," Ichigo said, glaring up at its face, atop its monstrous body. "Not like it's any business of yours."

"Are you one of those things they've been making, eh? Disgusting." The hollow sniffed in disgust, cocking its head to the side as it considered Ichigo. He realized it was probably talking about the arrancar—it most likely could sense enough to realize the foreign reiatsu emanating from Las Noches, as far away from it as they were.

"Why don't you come with me and find out?"

The thing smiled, if one could call it a smile; there were rows of sharp teeth filling its face. Lanky black hair like Spanish moss bled down from the crown of its head, which was shaped narrowly like a lizard's, and it was regarding Ichigo as though he were a snack, "You ought to learn some manners to match your size. Little things ought to learn their place, or have it taught to them."

Ichigo didn't like being lectured by anyone—or anything, this thing in particular. "I'm actually being generous, giving you an offer to come willingly. I guess I'll just have to carve you up and bring you back in chunks."

"Is that right?" The hollow laughed, and Ichigo could see inside its gaping jaws, a second set of teeth set deep in its throat. "You are making this more enjoyable than I could've ever imagined, you little smartass. I haven't tasted shinigami in what seems like ages; I'd forgotten how arrogant your kind are. Which will only make this sweeter, I'm sure."

Ichigo caught movement in the corner of his eye a moment before the hollow struck—its long, snaking tail shot towards him, and Ichigo only barely countered with his zanpakutou. The hollow's strength was enough to make him stumble, but he threw the creature's tail away from himself and jumped back, putting distance between himself and the hollow's long teeth.

"You really didn't want to do that." Ichigo could feel excitement leap in his stomach. "Just remember, you're the one who started this, bastard."

"On the contrary, you are the one who came looking for me. Now why is that?"

"If you know enough about the shinigami, you'll know why they're here, eh? Don't you want to become more powerful? They can make it happen."

"I prefer to feast on your kind than serve them," the hollow replied. "And it has been too long since I enjoyed the taste of shinigami—though your reiatsu is impure, it will have to do."

The thing's words made Ichigo remember what Rukia had told him, ages ago it seemed—how hollows craved the spiritual nourishment of shinigami over all other souls. Ichigo himself had been hunted for his soul's taste, even before he'd gotten Rukia's powers.

"Why do you want my soul that badly?" Ichigo asked, impulsively. It was something he'd wondered for a long time, and the way the creature was regarding him and the way Grimmjow did was disturbingly familiar: as though Ichigo was nothing more than a treat to be devoured and savored.

Ichigo hadn't truly expected an answer, but the hollow seemed content to toy with him a while longer. "Because you are our opposite. Exactly the other—the difference, when compared to us." Ichigo could see its waving tail in the periphery of his vision, winding up for another strike, and braced himself. "Nothing satisfies the hunger inside me like your kind. Too long have I gone without it."

And then its tail whipped out; Ichigo saw it coming in the corner of his eye and tried to block, but instead of a direct strike, the winding length snared around him quicker than Ichigo could react. It crushed the wind from his lungs in an instant, lifting him into the air until Ichigo was equal to the creature's face.

It grinned, and Ichigo writhed in its tail's grasp. "You were saying you would bring me back in pieces? That'll be difficult from inside my belly." Ichigo spat a curse, but the thing only held him tighter, squeezing his ribs until Ichigo couldn't breathe.

Its mouth opened up, rows upon rows of teeth in the mouth of a serpent; Ichigo's heart leapt and stuttered against the restraining bone-covered tail clutching him. He braced Zangetsu against his forearm—the hollow had him around his waist and chest but Ichigo's arms were still free. With the last breath in his lungs, Ichigo bellowed, "Bankai!"

He was expecting a surge of reiatsu—what normally came, when he released himself completely, and Ichigo cursed himself for not going on the offensive earlier. But as he shouted his release…nothing happened. Nothing.

Ichigo felt his heart stop, from the constricting weight against his chest, and the instantaneous despair—Aizen hadn't simply sealed his sword so he couldn't use it against Grimmjow; he'd sealed it completely. Ichigo couldn't release his power, and he felt as insignificant as an insect compared to the hollow holding him.

He knew he could still do some damage to the thing as soon as it tried to swallow him, he only needed to get closer to its vulnerable mouth. The hollow's tongue lolled out, wet and putrid, and Ichigo swiped at it but missed. The hollow laughed, "Hah, I always did enjoy a good fight! But this is pitiful, boy—I'm supposed to believe you'll give me greater power, when you can't even damage me?"

"Just try swallowing me, bastard. I'll tear through your throat!" Ichigo kicked his legs, thrashing and trying to unbalance the creature, but it only gripped him tighter until Ichigo's head spun dizzily. He could feel his ribs crack sickly; Ichigo hadn't felt true fear since he'd come to this place, and this was how it was all going to end—not at Grimmjow's hands or Aizen's, but on a stupid errand and to some nameless hollow.

He tried to cut through the tail holding him, but his angle was awkward and Ichigo could feel the strength leaving his limbs by the second. The hollow was like a constrictor, crushing him until he suffocated before choosing to eat him. Ichigo's eyes clenched, furious at himself for allowing this thing to lure him into its clutches, and seething at Aizen for limiting his power—but above all, he was furious at Grimmjow, for bringing him along on this wild scheme only to disappear when Ichigo actually need the fucker.


DUN DUN DUN DUN!