Chapter 9: Shadows of the Winter War

"So how's living in the human world?" The voice on the other end asked with a hint of humor and a light chuckle.

Kenshin stared vacantly at the ceiling while wondering quietly to himself why he considered this man a friend at all. Sometimes Jüshiro's sense of humor just killed Kenshin. Not killed like 'ha-ha, slap your knee' funny, but more like 'I'm going to go see if I can't slip onto my zanpakutö and kill myself' funny. It likely was the fact that there really was nothing you could hate about Jüshiro that made it possible to tolerate him. He was a very friendly man that could never do a thing to piss you off.

"It's…fantastic. It's great having my sensei around." Kenshin stated as dryly as he could.

"That must be wonderful!" Jüshiro replied, seeming to not catch the heavy sarcasm. "You're fortunate to have Yoruichi-san as a mentor."

Did…did he really not understand that Kenshin was being bitterly sarcastic? Sure he would do anything for Yoruichi, even risk his life to protect her. That was evident in the fact he bore the Shihöin crest on his right shoulder blade, but he still found himself banging his head against the wall at times as their personalities were heavily different.

It had been rather…complicated when Yoruichi first took over the Onmitsukidö as it was a sudden change from the command style of the previous commander-in-chief.

For whatever reason, Kenshin had found himself giving sympathy to the woman when she became his new commander-in-chief, maybe because she was around his age. As such he offered his help to her in getting the men straightened out. It didn't take her long to get everything working how she wanted, but she had seemed extremely grateful for his help and from that day forth he found himself cursed in dealing with the joyful woman on a daily basis.

"So, Jüshiro. Any report from the team in Hueco Mundo?"

He could hear some hesitation and the ruffling of papers, likely the captain of thirteenth division was searching through to find a report if one even existed. "Mmm…ah! Here it is. Well so far nothing out of the ordinary. They've been ordered to stay away from the remnants of Las Noches, although they have reported some minor readings coming off of the palace."

Las Noches...

The damage caused to the palace had been rather substantial thanks to the fighting between Ichigo Kurosaki and his friends in a bid to rescue Orihime Inoue, and by the presence of Captains Kuchiki, Kurotsuchi, and Zaraki when they arrived to provide support. Apparently over half the palace was leveled by the release of the last Espada's resurrección, but in truth the overall damage caused was estimated as being somewhere around sixty to sixty-eight percent; or so Captain Kurotsuchi merrily had stated.

Who then could be operating out of the ruins of some palace that was nothing more then a shell of itself?

"I see…thank you Jüshiro."

"Anything on your end, Captain Takeda?"

"No. The attacks have been tame and for the most part I've left it to Kurosaki and Rukia to handle. I'm not going to bother drawing my blade unless it's at least a Gillian-level attack."

"I understand. How is Rukia?"

"She's good. Still as stubborn as ever, but good. Why? Thinking it's time to drag her back to actually work?"

Jüshiro laughed on his end whole heartedly. "Not at all, Captain. I'm happy that she's enjoying herself learning a human education."

Feeling he had nothing else to ask or really talk about with his peer, Kenshin chose to end the call. "Call me if anything else comes up in from the special ops team."

"Will do."

Kenshin flipped the phone shut and slipped it back into the folds of his kosode before letting out a sigh. That battle…

Images flashed before his eyes, images of buildings crumbling. All around the air was thick with the mixtures of fully released spiritual pressures which were causing things to crumble into dust beneath the fury of the dozens of individuals fighting.

Explosions roared off in one far part of the city while another seemed to just rot into oblivion beneath the maniacal cackles of a ghastly cloaked skeleton. The images shifted to the face of a certain woman whose blond hair and deep green eyes held his gaze, as if it was impossible for him to look away.

She was beautiful, despite what she was she was more beautiful then any woman he had encountered. She had a grace about her that was beyond his words to convey and her strength was the thing any warrior would yearn to fight. Crossing blades with her had left him ecstatic. It was that feeling of finally finding someone that could truly push you to your limits and then past them, making you crave the feeling it created within you.

They had met before that fateful battle in faux Karakura Town by pure accident. It was a collision of only the blades and nothing more on the outskirts of Karakura Town when their own patrols ended up running into each other. It was that night that the two took their own interest in the other and chose to meet again to have a real fight.

That chance came when the two forces met for the final battle in the false city. Taking the initial confusion of the battles between captains and vice-captains against Espada and fracciónes, the two moved deep into the streets below to spar once more with their blades to test the limits of the other. That moment in an alley…

He came to understand just what he felt for her when she touched her lips to his own. Even with that mask she was beautiful. To his surprise that mask could part enough to let their lips meet in a silent passion that could never become anything real. They vowed to take the other's life in pronouncement of what they felt for the other. It was a strange promise, but it was all they could do for each other as warriors on two opposing sides…

…as two individuals that existed to sacrifice for others…

Unfortunately…he survived and she did not, but not because of him. It pained him to see that look of shock on her face as she fell to the city below. He had done everything to keep the fight between just them, even turning on his own allies long enough to take them out of the fight; but, he failed. He wasn't able to do what he could for her, to give her a death that she could accept.

What's worse was he wasn't even able to be at her side in her last moments as he had to help press the attack on the key enemy, Aizen. Why did it have to end that way?

Kenshin realized he was breathing heavily. His forehead and neck were drenched in sweat, causing his hair to stick to his face and neck. Staggering to his feet, the captain of Fifth Division stumbled about to regain his balance and his mind. Why did it still pain him to think back on that battle? Shouldn't he be glad his comrades survived, that they won?

Was it really a win for him though?

/\/\/\/\

"He's really going at it…" Kisuke commented while watching from near the ladder that led up and out of his underground training facility.

Yoruichi nodded solemnly while watching her pupil. He had come over already sweating, but it wasn't sweat caused from exercise; no, it was a cold sweat caused by a nightmare that plagued his mind. She knew it had something to do with the Winter War, because that was when she first saw it occur within him.

He had stayed with her for a month after the war to help keep an eye on the efforts by the shinigami in erasing any possible memories of the strange and sudden slumber that had befallen the city just before the city was moved to the Soul Society for protection.

She remembered being startled awake by the sounds of a deep-throated scream and when she would run into the room he was using at the shop, she always found him drenched in a cold sweat while breathing heavily as if he had just ran for miles. His pupils would always be dilated as if he had seen a specter; and in many ways, she had come to suspect that was what it was.

He never wanted to talk about what it was that was causing him these night terrors. He never wanted to talk about what had occurred in the war. By the time she, Kisuke, and Isshin had arrived the Espada were dealt with and almost all the captains, vice-captains, and vizards had been defeated either by the Espada or by Aizen himself.

Thankfully the night terrors had seemed to stop, that or Kenshin had just become aware of them and stopped letting himself wake up in such a panic.

For a man so strong, she could never recall him looking so weak. It broke her heart to see such a good friend of hers that had served under her command and been her pupil look so broken. She wanted to help him, but it was impossible to help someone that refused it entirely.

The way he was swinging his shikai, using that unique technique he had perfected…he was trying to kill the memories that must have caught back up with him. She watched in silence as he shifted about from one blade to the next like a dancer changing who they partnered with.

Where Soifon was a superior melee combatant, Kenshin was a superior swordsman. It was funny how her two pupils were capable masters of the two different primary fighting styles.

Kisuke tapped his fan against his chin, musing loudly. "Should we stop him?"

Yoruichi closed her eyes and just solemnly shook her head. She knew Kisuke was more so referring to the technique Kenshin was using, not to him practicing with his shikai. "He'll be fine…"

"Ya sure?" The blond man glanced to the side at his childhood friend from under the shadows of his hat. "Isn't there a limit to that technique?"

"There is, but he's still got about a minute before he reaches it. Five minutes is his maximum with it under a constant use…but I think letting him go the full five minutes will help him."

Kisuke nodded slowly while letting his eyes lazily drift back to the sight ahead. Kenshin's right arm was aglow with the Kidö compressed around it and the blade in hand. It was so much like the technique he knew Yoruichi for, Shunkö; however, it was a style perfected for the use with a blade thus earning it the name Shunken.

He really didn't know all it could do, and when asked, even Yoruichi couldn't explain what the difference was between her Shunkö and his Shunken; but, he knew it was a technique he did not want to be on the receiving end with.

Not with how soundly those cuts came and how deep those gouges appeared to be…

/\/\/\/\

Tatsuki set her book bag on the floor and stretched her arms up above her, trying to relieve the tightness in her shoulders. Kenshin wasn't here when she got home from school. His haori was still folded up on her bed, and on it she saw a note which she wanted to read but felt hesitant to do so.

Finally feeling like an idiot for being afraid of a simple note, she walked over and picked up the folded piece of paper and opened it up.

Tatsuki,

Sorry for not being here to greet you when you got home. I know how it seems to brighten your mood, but something came up and I needed to go clear my head for a bit. If you need me for something then you can call the number at the bottom. It'll go through to the Urahara Shöten. Just ask whoever answers to speak with Kisuke Urahara, he'll be able to get me to the phone.

Again, I apologize, but it's just something I needed to handle immediately.

-Kenshin

P.S. Your alarm started going off so I sort of, accidentally swatted it into the wall. Umm…I'll replace that. Sorry.

Tatsuki blinked a few times before glancing toward her dresser near her bed and noticed the alarm clock missing. She walked over to the other side and found the alarm clock sitting just behind the trashcan by her desk. Sure enough, it was busted.

She wasn't sure why, but it made her smile as she shook her head slowly. "You idiot…"

Next time! Chapter 10: Sting and Stung