Summary: Mayuri lays the groundwork for his next attack while Uryuu and Nemu face an unexpected difficulty.

"Fascinating." Mayuri murmured. "Computer. Run simulation 14,573 again."

He watched in rapt amazement as the computer ran a possible end result suggested by the data he had collected.

"The child actually has this much potential. Amazing!"

Typing in commands, he pulled up the results from days of running simulations. There was a wide range of possibilities depending on how the combination of the quincy's DNA and Nemu's unique DNA analogue chose to express itself. Based on his tests, there was roughly a 50% chance that the result would be a normal human with a high spiritual potential. With his parents to instruct him, he would doubtlessly develop those powers and gain mastery of them at an early age. 24% of the simulations ended with him as being ill suited to the environment in the real world, possibly even crippled. 6% were a variety of strange outcomes with the child being either completely useless or growing into some kind of monster. Mayuri dismissed these as outliers. It was that last category that drew his attention. 25% of the simulations had the child maturing into something incredibly powerful, godlike even, with many of the qualities of transcendence Aizen Souske had sought, but different somehow. It was the way in which it was different that was difficult to define.

"Data." Mayuri muttered. "I need more data!"

Once again, he cursed the inadequate measurements and observations he was forced to use. If only he had Nemu here in his lab. If only they were under his direct observation! He had to get her back again. He had to have her and the child somewhere he could apply all of the techniques he desperately wanted to use to get more and better measurements.

"Need. More. DATA!"

"I'm home." Uryuu announced and he dragged his feet over the threshold. He was exhausted. Force of habit more than conscious decision made him take off his shoes. He then took of the stupid paper hat he had to wear at the convenience store. It had been a long shift after school and he still had homework to do. He didn't know where he was going to find the time. Or the strength.

"Welcome home." Nemu said giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I kept dinner hot for you."

Gratefully, he leaned against her as she led him to their table.

"I made your favorite." She told him. "Mackerel miso stew."

Uryuu winced as he sat down. "Isn't that too expensive?"

"We're not that bad off yet." Nemu chided. "Besides you need to keep your strength up." Taking a pot off of the stove where it had been simmering over a low flame, she placed it on a ceramic plate in the center of the table and labeled out a large bowl of stew. The smell made Uryuu's mouth water and helped push away his fatigue.

"This looks delicious." He said. "What about you. Aren't you going to eat?"

"I had dinner earlier." She replied. "But I am a little hungry now." She took another bowl and ladled out a small portion for herself. "Your son is very demanding, you know."

He wearily smiled and reached out to place his hand on Nemu's swollen belly. "Causing trouble already is he?"

"It's not his fault." She said. "He has a lot of growing to do. He's asleep now."

Reaching out with his senses, Uryuu could feel his son's energy. Sure enough, he gave off the slow, steady ebbing of power that sleep patterns produced. He seemed content enough, completely unaware of the trouble they were in. He sighed and turned to his dinner. The stew was delicious, rich and satisfying after being on his feet all night selling snacks and grocery items after class. Nemu's stew tasted a little different from his, which was strange because they followed the same recipe. He had to force himself to stop at one bowl. Any more and he would risk getting sleepy. Sleepier anyway.

"Did you find out anything at the bank today?" He asked.

Nemu sadly shook her head. "No one knows what happened. They can find all of the papers we signed to set up the account, but electronically, everything is still a blank. They're trying to figure it out, but they can't give us any funds until they recover the data."

Uryuu looked down at the table and sighed. His tuition was paid up for the semester, and their bills wouldn't come due for another month. But they would come due. He was doing his best to make up for the shortage with a part time job at the convenience store, but how far could he make that meager pay stretch if their money wasn't recovered? How long until the lights went out? How long until they were living on ramen noodles and canned sardines?

Nemu put her hand on his arm. "Uryuu, I took a look around town today. They are hiring sales girls at the department store."

He frowned. "I thought Dr. Kurosaki said you were to stay off of your feet?"

"It's only for a little while." She explained. "I'm sure the bank will figure out what happened to our account soon. Then I'll stop."

"I'm making enough to get by for now." He said shaking his head. "Besides, I don't think they'll hire you in your condition."

"I can try something else." She countered. "I can sweep floors or fold clothes. Or if you want me to stay off my feet, I can try for an office job. I am skilled with most office software suites now, I'm sure I can find temporary work."

"What's gotten into you?" He asked. "Things are a little tight right now, but we'll make it though. The important thing now is your health and the baby."

Nemu cast her eyes to the floor. "It's just that…you're working so hard. You're suffering and it's all because of me. I want to help you, and I feel…I…feel…"

Uryuu could hear the catch in her voice, see her chest rise and fall as her breathing grew ragged. Nemu was a calm and rational person in most circumstances, but the pressure they were under and the stress of her pregnancy would be enough to make anyone upset. And she was still so new to letting her feelings out instead of locking them away behind an emotionless mask. He reached out and gently squeezed her hand.

"I understand." He assured her. "I feel worried too. But it's not going to be forever. I'm sure they'll get our account straightened out sooner or later. Let's not think about this for now."

Getting up, he went over to the battered, second hand stereo, selected a CD and put on some music. A slow latin rhythm came from the speakers, a light piano score playing over insistent percussion with man singing in spanish.

"Dance with me." He urged, holding out his hands.

Nemu was surprised. "Uryuu. We haven't danced in months."

He took her hands and gently pulled her to her feet. "I've missed dancing with you. I think it's just what we need to forget our troubles for a while."

She giggled a little as he took her in his arms. 'I can't dance now. I'm too big and clumsy."

"I don't think we could manage a tango." He admitted. "Still, I think we can try a slow salsa."

Nemu shook her head, but played along with his suggestion. They carefully worked their way through the steps, Nemu delicately pirouetting around Uryuu's lead through the passes and turn, keeping up with the music as best they could in the confines of their tiny apartment. Surprisingly enough, they did forget their worries taking delight in their old pastime. The music ended while Uryuu completed the set, seizing Nemu from behind to hold her tightly. She was winded from their exertion and panted heavily, leaning against him and running her hands along his arms. They were going to get through this, he resolved as he breathed in her scent. Somehow.

The 79th district of Rukongai, Kusajishi, was the last place with even the semblance of order and civilization before one stepped off into the savagery and lawlessness of district 80. Here, the shinigami rarely came to check up on things. Here, the powerless, the nihilistic and the criminal gathered. Here, those that no longer had a need to eat could satisfy other appetites. Even death was not enough to cure some people of their vices. Though their bellies did not rumble, they still craved the thrill of dice or cards, the taste of strong drink and tobacco, the feel of warm flesh, willing or otherwise. Anything to remind them that they once lived and to distract them from a long, pallid existence as powerless shades. Approaching a ramshackle dive, a slim, blue haired man muttered to himself as he strode down the moonlit street, careless of the hungry eyes that followed him from every door and alleyway.

"Hasn't changed a bit." He whispered absentmindedly. "Still little better than a garbage heap."

Reaching his destination, he stepped up onto the low front porch. With noticeable distaste, he pushed the beaded curtain in the doorway aside, wiping his hand against his robe as soon as he was inside. The noise and hubbub of the sordid little bar died down to nothing as everyone turned to look at the stranger in their midst. Scarred faces with hard, piercing eyes took him in, trying to get his measure, tried to decide if he were predator or prey. He ignored them as well. He knew who he was looking for. No one else was of any matter. As he expected, he saw his quarry sitting in the back corner. Even with his face shrouded with shadows, he also had not changed much over the years. He sat tall and straight on the traditional style floor cushion, two glassy-eyed whores leaning against him, one clumsily sloshing saké into a cup for him. His pipe glowed as he drew in a deep lungful, illuminating his face. He knew he had a visitor. He wanted to be seen. The stranger walked across the room towards him only to be stopped by a rough customer who badly needed a shave.

"Where do you think you're going, man?" He roughly demanded. "This side of the bar is off limits."

"I have business with your master." He replied. "Stand aside."

"I don't think so." The man said. "I'm thinking you better leave."

Seizing the stranger roughly by the shoulder, he began to push him backwards towards the door. The odd little man looked at him with pity and contempt.

"You poor fool. I doubt you ever thought a day in your miserable existence."

Reaching up, he lightly scratched the back of the thugs hand with a weirdly elongated nail on his middle finger. The man snatched his had back as if it were on fire.

"You bastard!" He roared. "What did you…"

He soon found himself incapable of speech as his windpipe closed off. With his face turning blue, he clutched as his throat as he desperately tried to breathe. Falling to the floor, he went into convulsions, foam spewing from his mouth, his feet and hands drumming against the floor, at first strongly then weaker, then hardly at all until they stopped. Sneering, the blue haired man stepped over the newly made corpse. A half dozen burly men rushed towards him.

"Stop! Let him pass." With an amused chuckle, their boss waved for the stranger to approach him. The man ignored the goons glaring at him with murder in their eyes and knelt down on the cushion before the boss's table.

"So it really is you." The bossman said. "It's been a long time. You never did tell me your name."

"And you will never have need to know it, Matsushita Kai." He said. "I have a job for you. It would be best to discuss it alone."

Matsushita glanced at the women seated next to him. "Leave us." He ordered.

He waited until they had stumbled away before speaking again.

"Straight to business, eh? No waiting for drinks, no asking how I've been after all these years, just cut right to the chase. You're a very rude fellow, you know that?"

"Good evening Matsushita-san. How have you been? Happy now?" The uninvited guest sneered. "Don't forget, it's through me that you enjoy this position. Without my help, you'd be nothing."

"And without me, there's a lot of stuff you'd never get done." Matsushita pointed out. "Not legally anyway. I'm guessing that's why you're here now."

The interloper scowled. "You have guessed correctly. I need something done and I need it kept secret from the Gotei 13."

"What kind of job are we talking about?" Matsushita asked.

"It's nothing too unusual." The man said pulling out a snapshot. He pushed it across the table to Matsushida, who picked it up and held it in front of his face. "I want this man killed. I want it done quietly, efficiently and most of all, secretly."

"He looks harmless enough." Mastushita allowed taking in the slim, dark haired man in the picture. "What district is he in?"

"He's not in any district." The man explained. "He's a human living in the real world."

Matushita' jaw dropped. The picture fell from his hand to flutter down to the table. "What? The real world?"

"And his is powerful. You will need someone at least captain level to assure success."

"Are you insane?" Matsushita growled. "None of us have spiritual powers. That's why we're here, jackass! And how in the thrice-damned HELL do you expect us to strike at someone in the real world?"

"Let me worry about getting to the real world. And as for the power issue, let's just say I've already thought of that."

Matsushita watched the stranger pull a slim glass vial out of his sleeve. He held it out in offering. Matsushita took it, weighed it in his hand, gave it a shake. It contained a dark, oily liquid that swirled sluggishly behind the glass.

"What is this?"

"It's energy in a bottle. With this, you can add artificial reiatsu to anyone up to any level. Given enough of this formula, even such as you can temporarily be as powerful as any captain in seireitai."

Mutsashida's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "What's the catch?"

"No catch. The effects wear off quickly, so the user must accomplish their mission before their power drains away. What you now hold is a trial version, just to give you an idea. Try it."

Mutsashida frowned. Opening the bottle, he gave it a sniff. He opened his mouth as if he were about to drink it, then stopped.

"Hayashida," He called out. "Get over here."

A huge man with a scraggly beard and mustache and long hair pulled into a topknot sprang to his feet and hurried over.

"Yes, aniki?"

"Drink this."

Without even a second of hesitation, the big man slugged the dark fluid down. A few moments passed.

"Well." Mutsashida asked "How do you feel?"

"Uh, nothing yet, aniki." Hayashida replied. "Oh wait. I'm feeling something. Yeah! I am feeling something!"

As they watched, Hayashida's body began to glow, faintly as first, then brighter.

"This is amazing! Incredible!" He whooped. Holding his hand together, he formed a ball of energy. Holding it over his head, he hurled it towards the wall. It exploded on contact, throwing slivers of bamboo and thatch outward in a smoldering rain.

"I have power!" He crowed. Almost as soon as he said it, the glow guttered, faded and died.

"Thank you Hayashida." Mutsashida calmly said. "That will be all."

Hayashida was too stunned to understand. He turned his hands over and over, confused. "Aniki, what…why…?"

"I said that will be all Hayashida!" He barked.

The roughneck finally took the hint, picking up the threat in his bosses tone. "Of course, aniki. I'll, um…I'll get someone to fix the wall."

"You do that." Mutsashida replied with a nod. He waited until his henchman was out of hearing range before talking with the stranger again. "All right. So at least part of what you claim is true. I'm going to assume you can actually get one of my men to the real world. What I need to know it, what's in it for me?"

"After all I've done for you, raising you up from the gutter scum you were, giving you power and priviledge, you dare to ask me for payment?"

Mutsashida nodded. "Damn right I do."

His guest gave a sardonic grin. "I thought you would. That's why I'm prepared to give you this."

Reaching into his sleeve, he pulled out another glass vial. Again, he held I out to the crime boss.

"I wouldn't try sampling that one if I were you." He warned.

"Why?" Matsushida asked. "What's in it?"

"It's an intoxicating substance specifically calibrated for the powerless." The odd man explained. "It's cheap, can be cut many times with water without losing its potency and is highly addictive. With a supply of this handy, you should gain enough power and money to take over the whole district, even beyond."

"And you're going to what? Sell it to me cheap?"

The stranger shook his head. "Not at all, Matsushida. I'm going to give it to you. As much as you want for the next six months. A good bargain for one man's life, wouldn't you say?" He leaned forward, the lights in the room casting sinister shadows across his long craggy face. "Do we have a deal?"

Something square was placed on the counter before him.

"Thank you for your purchase, sir." Uryuu droned. "Would you like me to place your bento in the microwave?"

"Ishida, wake up!" Ichigo barked. "That's not a bento, that's a casserole dish."

Uryuu shook his head trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. He's been asleep on his feet, working on autopilot.

"Kurosaki?"

"Yes, Kurosaki and why didn't you tell me you were having money trouble?"

Uryuu tried to pull himself together. "Who told you that?'

"My Dad." Ichigo replied. "He thought your wife was looking pretty stressed when she came in for her latest check up. He made her tell him the whole story, then he sent me over here with this."

Uryuu looked down on the covered dish, his face heating up with shame. "I don't need your charity, Kurosaki." He hissed.

"It's not charity, it's Yuzu's." Ichigo explained. "You better take it too, or she'll never let me hear the end of it."

Uryuu shamefacedly adjusted his glasses. "Well, if it will make her happy." He mumbled. He put the dish behind the counter to take it home later. "OK, Kurosaki, you've done your good deed for the day. You can go home now."

"Uh-uh."Ichigo grunted. "It's not that simple, Ishida. If you were having problems, why didn't you call me?"

"Why should I? There's nothing you can do about it."

"You don't know that." Ichigo pointed out. "And even if that's true, it's not fair to keep stuff like this from your friends."

"Excuse me." A short balding man in a business suit said. "I'd like to pay for my stuff."

"Do you mind?!" Ichigo yelled. "We're having a very important conversation here! Go read a magazine or something!"

"Don't listen to him, sir! I'll ring it up for you!" Uryuu shouted. He quickly scanned the businessman's order and got him out the door, ignoring his dirty looks the whole time.

"Dammit Kurosaki, are you trying to get me fired?" Ishida demanded.

"So what if you do?" Ichigo asked. "If you get fired, I'll help you find another job. Heck, the old man could probably use your help in the clinic. Just let us help you dammit!"

Uryuu scowled and folded his arms. "I don't like asking for help. I have my pride."

"Yeah, that little hat you're wearing just screams "pride"." Ichigo scoffed. "What the hell good is "pride" going to do you anyway? You got a wife and a kid on the way. You weren't exactly rich before and who knows when your problem at the bank is going to get fixed. What's wrong with swallowing your pride and asking your friends for help? If you don't want me to help you, fine. What about Chad? What about Urahara? Hell, I could probably introduce you to Ol' Unagiya if you want. At least her hours are more flexible than this place."

"You don't understand." Uryuu insisted. "When I left my father's house, I decided I was going to stand on my own two feet like an adult. I'm the only one responsible for my situation and I will be the one to get us out. Asking for help is like…like crawling back to Ryuuken. Like admitting I failed."

Ichigo scowled. "With all due respect Ishida, that's total bullshit. There is nobody in the world that can get by without help every once in a while. Being an adult has nothing to do with it. Everybody slips and falls and everybody needs a hand up every once in a while. That includes everybody. Even me. Especially me. I remember someone pounding that into my head once. You need me to return the favor?"

"Look, I appreciate this, but I'm getting by OK."

"Are you?" Ichigo challenged. "You look dead on your feet to me. How are your grades doing? Can you keep this up? And for how long. Dammit Ishida set your stupid pride aside for now and let me help."

Uryuu sighed. Wearily, he adjusted his glasses."You just never give up, do you Kurosaki. So now what?"

"Beats me." Ichigo said while scratching his head. "I don't have any ideas right now. Tell you what. I'll come by tomorrow for dinner as we can talk about it. I'm sure Yuzu will have something for me to bring."

Uryuu didn't like it. It went against his grain, both as a man and as a Quincy to have to ask for help. But Kurosaki was right. He had other people depending on him now. If swallowing his pride would keep Nemu and Souken safe and cared for, then that's what he would have to do.

"All right Kurosaki. We'll be expecting you tomorrow."

"Great!" Ichigo said as he headed towards the door. "I'll see you then. And make sure that casserole dish is ready to take back. Yuzu will have my hide if I lose it!"

Mayuri was deep into reviewing his daily reports when the alert popped up on his computer screen.

"What's this?" He murmured as he turned to the machine. "Ah, they're at it again."

The program he had designed to disable and monitor the Ishida bank account was working flawlessly. Of course. It had been denying any attempts at restoration on the account all day. Now it had run into something it couldn't handle.

"Oh, my. They seem to have brought in some talented programmers indeed. They really seem to know what they are doing. I wonder how much farther they'll get if the mainframe goes down?"

Pulling up the appropriate command, he cackled with glee as he mashed down the enter key. If only he had thought to put some cameras in the bank. The chaos and confusion as their operations came to a screeching halt would be hilarious!

"You wanted to live in the real world daughter? Then welcome to real world suffering. Perhaps a little hunger will teach you the folly of your ways."

Of course, this mischievous prank had nothing to do with his overall plan. This was simply for his own amusement. The actual plan would be executed soon. There were still a lot of ways for things to go wrong, Mayuri thought. The quincy had proven himself very resourceful in the past. But where guile had failed before, maybe brute strength would succeed. Best of all, if things did go wrong, there was no way for the Gotei 13 to trace it back to him. And if things didn't go wrong? He got up from his chair and strode out the door. He went to his lab where all was in readiness. The second Nemu was back in his clutches, he would finally be able to observe her and that brat properly. He caressed the side of a specially made plexiglass tank, just waiting to be filled with nutrient fluid. And the subject.

"Soon, my daughter," He crooned. "Soon you will return to me. Soon you'll be right back where you belong…"