Date written: 03/01/10 – 26/01/10
Posted on FanFiction: 31/01/10
A/N: Life gives me the blues sometimes. No reason for it, too. I'm a mood-swinging male, and if you add coffee and a box of chocolates . . . prepare for insanity and a chocolate addict on a sugar-high rampage. Well, during the three weeks I wrote this chapter, I lot of things did happen in my life. My 19th birthday, for one. A barrage of plot bunnies putting my muse's organizing nature into a state of near-death, for another. Having my Internet connection severed due to incompatibility with my Wi-Fi receiver and Windows 7, for another other. Anyway, the ideas and writing-motivation for this story don't come reeling in as swiftly as before, either by my decaying interest in this story or the Naruto and Clannad plot bunnies tempting me to write them down instead.
As much as I like to continue on with what occurs between Ishida and Ichigo during this particular event, I can't think of anything other than what has happened in the series. And I find that revisiting a scene that you've already seen before (as I'm sure you readers have all did) makes the 'putting the episode into words' a little redundant. So as much as I don't like skipping, I'm going to have to remove the scene where Ichigo and Ishida face off the Hollows in the park. I've read enough Bleach fanfics having this scene written with the actions happen like in the anime word for word to cost me a lifetime . . . and my patience . . . and don't forget my sanity. This is why I had a lot of trouble deciding what to do on Chapter 1 since it parallels so much with what has occurred in the anime. And I'm sure that because of that little blunder, I must have turned some readers' attention away due to boring them to death. But at least the ones who have stuck to this story until now see the gem hidden within the dirt. And I thank you all for that.
I'm still alive and kicking, and it would take more than just real life to keep me from finishing this very long project.
--- CHAPTER 21 ---
Archer & Swordsman: Act III
"What did you say?" Ichigo yelled, pulling Urahara by his collar until they were nose-to-nose. "What do you mean we were too late? Where's Inoue?"
"This place"—Urahara gestured to the courtyard—"was like this when I got here. That girl gave me these hairpins, murmuring Inoue-san's name before passing out."
Ichigo grabbed the man's wrist and examined the hairpins, and he cursed mentally, scowling all the way. "Then where is she now?" he asked.
Urahara shook his head. "I do not know."
Ichigo let him go, and then ran towards the school gates.
"You won't find her in time," Urahara shouted. "It is better that you concentrate on the Hollows invading Karakura than finding Inoue-san."
"I can't do that!"
"Why not?" he asked with a cocked eyebrow.
"Because—"
Urahara held up a hand, silently telling Ichigo to say nothing. He walked towards the substitute shinigami, his cane and clogs tapping rhythmically against the ground. "You need to save the people of Karakura," he said.
"But . . . Inoue—"
"Which will you put priority: a single life or a hundred innocents?"
That made Ichigo bite his tongue. He couldn't think of anything to rebuke that.
Urahara looked around, sparing a more-than-momentary glance at Tatsuki's unconscious body, and sighed through his nose. "I know this is a hard decision for you to make, but you must consider some things before charging in like a brainless berserker."
Ichigo's eye twitched. It almost sounded like the sandal-hat guy insulted him.
"If you decide to search for Inoue-san, where would you look? What place will you go first? Will you leave the unknowing civilians to the mercy of the hungry Hollows just because you've taken priority to one single person's life to theirs?"
"It's nothing like that. It's just that I need to be sure Inoue is safe."
"And you're compromising the safety of others for this."
"I'm not the one who released the goddamned Hollow bait! If there's anyone to blame, then blame that arrogant Quincy bastard."
"I'm not pinning any blame," Urahara said, adjusting his hat as a mild wind picked up and came westward, "just observing the consequences of your actions."
"Then what in the hell do you expect me to do?" He crossed his arms.
"I expect you to trust me," the blond said simply, but his eyes showed a more serious side.
"With what?" Ichigo asked cautiously.
"With Inoue-san's safety. Simply put, I will look for her, while you save the city."
Ichigo studied the truthfulness of the man's statement. He wasn't a person who could easily detect a lie, but what he lacked from studying people's words, he made up with intuition and the conviction he could see from anyone's eyes. And right now, Urahara's conviction spoke volumes. He really did desire to go and look for her, but there was some kind of ulterior motive he picked up on. He wasn't exactly sure what, but then again, what choice did he have?
"I . . ." Ichigo licked his lips, realizing just then that they had gone dry and sweat was streaming down his clothes. He couldn't be sure whether this was from his earlier excursions or the heavy atmosphere he was in at the moment. "I'll trust you for now."
He saw Urahara made subtle changes in his posture, as if he had relaxed when he made that statement. Was he expecting a negative response?
"But," Ichigo added, not willing to give the man too much leeway; trust is earned, not given, "if you hurt Inoue in any way, I will personally rain down Hell upon you that you'll beg the Devil himself to take you away from me."
Urahara chuckled, not perturbed by the threat. Not at the slightest. "You have my word on that, Kurosaki-san." He held his right hand out, the cane standing up to attention, pointing at the sky like a tiny flagpole, while his left hand went to his right chest. "I promise not to bring harm onto Orihime Inoue in any way or form."
Ichigo wanted to ask him if that was really necessary, but he didn't.
"You should go to the park," Urahara said. "That's where the crack is probably hovering over. The swarm may be concentrated there."
He looked at Tatsuki and the surrounding students, all looking worse for wear when it came to physical stability. "And what about everyone here?"
"My old friend will be back from an errand soon. He's exceptional in healing wounds like how Kuchiki-san heals yours."
At the time, Ichigo didn't know that was an understatement, but he still entrusted the guy to not only find Orihime for him but also the health of the beaten students inside the courtyard. As much as his instincts seemed to tell him that trusting the sandal-and-hat guy was a very bad move on his part, he couldn't turn his help down. Ichigo was only one man, and in the middle of a crisis that required more—much, much more—than just his two hands, refusing help would sound foolish.
But it took a lot of effort to say this leaving remark: "I'll take your word for it."
With his back now turned from the courtyard, Ichigo set out towards the park, intending to kill as many Hollows as he could. All for the safety of strangers, his darker thoughts uttered, but he shook it off. He made his decision a month ago. No use regretting it now.
Kisuke Urahara did what he could to the raven-haired girl—Tatsuki was her name, he had heard—but the best would have to be lessening the discomfort brought on by a swift blow to her lower abdomen. The bruise forming there was not necessarily alarming, but it intrigued him that the blow looked to be strong enough to knock a normal girl unconscious. And he also admired her well toned midriff, as perverted as that sounded, but how was he supposed to heal something he couldn't see. At least he didn't need to do a thorough examining to learn that Tatsuki does martial arts: her karategi (tr. Karate Uniform) was a dead giveaway.
He also noted that the bruise on her abdomen seemed to be the only injury visible. Kisuke doubted that the girl had been relatively lucky to not sustain any more than this, but the lack of physical evidence (excluding exhaustion) tried to placate those doubts. It was like a jigsaw puzzle missing a vital piece, and Kisuke didn't like to keep things unsolved for long. But as much as the curious scientist in him wanted—demanded, more like—to learn more of the anomaly, he didn't have time for that right now.
There was a sudden gust of wind, and the familiar reiatsu of his Jamaican-looking friend eased the fingers crushing his cane. Kisuke didn't realize that he had been tense ever since Kurosaki left.
"Manager," Tessai called, as he adjusted the body he was carrying on one shoulder, "is everything all right?"
"I wished it was so, my friend," he replied, then shook his head. "It is now worse than I feared."
Tessai took a long time to say something back. It was as if he did have something to say, but couldn't form the words out of his mouth. "Surely you cannot do what you must. It is his child, after all."
"I have no choice."
"There's always a choice, Kisuke."
Kisuke looked down, avoiding Tessai's gaze. He really didn't want to do this, he really did, but knowing the dangers Orihime could cause if left in that state for too long was enough to set his mind straight . . . or the majority of it, anyway. Tessai's statement put him in second thoughts when hesitation should not be permitted. There were the dangers . . . but there was also Spaceman's legacy.
He shook these thoughts out. "I'll think about it once I find her," he said. "Patch everyone here up and also wipe out their memories." He looked at Tatsuki and then to the hairpins still in his palm. "Except for the girl in the center. Take her and the one you're carrying to the shop. We'll explain everything to them there."
Tessai nodded. "What will you be doing?"
"Searching for Orihime."
Emi just finished a very interesting conversation with one of the most level-headed individuals she had met all her life. The topic was appealing and the wonders of his claims were nothing short of wonderful, but she felt somehow unsatisfied by the whole thing. Sure, it was nice to talk to someone with the same kind of knowledge she instinctually had, for some unfathomable reason even to her, but that didn't left out the fact that she was still not fully in control of the body. Even as she and Helmil spoke inside the woods of Karakura Park, the princess would inevitably try and regain control of the body. Emi didn't have to worry right now since Orihime was still sleeping, but it still annoyed her that she'd be easily repelled after some mental mumbo-jumbo the Rukia-bitch taught the princess. Meditation and deep concentration are required skills when using Kidou, and even though Emi saw great potential in learning these demonic arts (how she loved the sound of that!), the price she had to unwillingly pay for it was too high to her liking. The choice was not hers to make, too, which annoyed her even more. Damn that bitch!
She saw a Hollow buzz through the canopy, and she noted its appearance looking to be a cross between a mosquito and a bee. It didn't look their direction.
"And that's all there is to it?" Emi asked Helmil, who was leaning against a birch tree with his arms crossed behind him. It pictured him as more at ease than the tension one would show off by crossing their arms in front. But honestly that position makes him look gay. "I go with you, we meet this 'Master' of yours, and he'll tell the rest to me, including this grand master plan he envisions?"
"Yes." His answer was straightforward and clearly spoke a lot about having no nonsense in his tone. All of that jam-packed into one single word.
"Anything else I should be aware of?"
"That this is an opportunity you cannot decline; doing so would make the deal permanently void and declare you immediately an enemy to the eyes of my Master."
"Kinda paranoid, isn't he?"
"It's not my place to criticize my Master."
"Then he's more screwed up than I thought, what with being able to submit someone like you into a non-questioning slave. Sorry, but if this how things should go, then I'd rather have Ishida take my virginity."
"You can't honestly be declining this offer."
"I am declining. I am a free-willed individual, and I'd be damned before I let your Master force me into submission."
Helmil sighed, not wanting to argue with her. That was another thing she noticed since the start of their interesting conversation. Helmil's body language suggested that he was a really laid-back type, more out of laziness than cocky confidence. He was also not one to negotiate since he seemed to take 'No' as an answer fairly quick. Then a thought came to Emi.
"Your Master was not the one who proposed this, was he?" she asked. One thing she was sure about Helmil was the devotion he had for his so-called 'Master.' A Hollow Yes-man. Neat. And if this Master's gender is really male, then I'm more than certain that Helmil is gay. If this were true (the devotion part, not the gay part), then Helmil would not have taken 'No' for an answer. He would've droned on and on until he had Emi convinced and agreed to the deal.
Helmil slowly shook his head. A simple left and then right gesture, nothing more. "He is still unaware of you, the alter-ego of Orihime Inoue. I'm only offering you this because I know that you would be beneficial to my Master's vision. Our group is always open for recruitments, after all."
"I'm still refusing, though."
He sighed once more. "Fine. Do what you want."
"Not gonna argue?" She raised a brow, a little disappointed at how easy he succumbed to her rejection. A Yes-man even to strangers, huh.
"Your conviction is dead-set. It's not like any more of my words can break that."
"You'd be surprised."
"Then I guess I'll offer you this final deal before taking my leave." Helmil pushed himself off the tree trunk and neared Emi. "I might not have convinced you to join our side today, but truly there's something in my words that have swayed you."
"Truthfully, your offer is very tempting. Just not tempting enough to risk becoming a slave like you, Mister Kiss-ass."
He laughed out of humor rather than annoyance, and it irked Emi that she couldn't get under his skin. No matter how much sarcasm she spilled in her words, no matter how disrespect in her speech she was to him, Helmil took it all in stride as if he heard this on a day-to-day basis.
"That's where my next offer lies," Helmil continued. "Today you disagree, but in the future you might just change your mind."
"Don't bother coz I won't."
"Are you sure about that? It doesn't really matter. Whether you come to us or not, Master's plan will come to fruition regardless."
"Then why ask me to be a part of it?"
"Because I want to. Something about you intrigues me so much that I can't help but let you join our little group."
"You flatter me, Kiss-ass." Again, she saw nothing in his expression to indicate annoyance.
"I guess I do, huh. My next offer would be the indefinite expiration of my deal."
"How generous." Her tone was full of sarcasm. "You might as well wait for a thousand before hearing a reply from me."
"Just think about it. I assure you, you will soon see things our way."
"Do you always do this when it comes to recruiting members, giving them time to think about the offer?"
He shook his head. "You're the first to be given this deal. Like I said, people who refuse the offer to join die. Currently, your answer is undetermined."
"Should I be grateful you're doing this for me?" She scoffed.
"I don't expect a thanks but an affirmative from you soon."
A loud roar echoed. When Emi looked up, she saw the crack in the sky widening like it was being ripped.
"Damn. Looks like time really passed by," Helmil said, looking at the dichromatic sky as orange began to tinge into the light blue.
Glancing at Orihime's watch, Emi saw that it was less than a half-hour away from sunset.
"I'm sorry to leave so abruptly but I'm late for a debriefing."
"Wait a moment," Emi said, putting one hand on her hip. "I just need one more thing from you."
"My services don't come cheap, my lady." He smirked.
"Be sure to put it on my tab, then. This body"—she gestured at herself with her free hand—"is incapable of sustaining anymore lethal damage. As much as I would want to fight those bugs while inside this fragile shell, I don't want to be put at a disadvantage."
"So you're asking for me to forcefully eject your soul out of your body, right?"
"Yes."
"And if I do this, will you think about that offer in the future?"
Emi rolled her eyes. Leave it to creature like him to add conditions in favors. "Yes, yes," she said.
Something pushed her chest inward, and the resulting force acting on her body yanked her back a few feet, but her dexterity prevented her from falling over. Emi touched the spot where she was pushed, then back at the retreating form of Helmil, his back turned to her.
She didn't even bother saying 'Thank you' to the guy. "Pervert," she muttered instead before nearing her lifeless physical shell. She carried it bridal-style and dashed towards the graveled path of the park. Once there, she looked for an empty bench and laid her physical body there. It was reckless to place it in the open while hundreds of Hollows were rampaging through the streets and skies, but most wouldn't understand the way she saw these Hollows.
She smelled the Hollow bait when Helmil took her into the clearing inside the tree-infested section of Karakura Park, and realized that not only did it act on attracting Hollows but also put them into a hungered frenzy. She wouldn't be surprised if some stronger Hollow began to eat the weaker ones because it didn't deem human souls to be sufficient for its deepening hunger. Which was why she wasn't very worried about placing her body there since the Hollows around her would be too busy looking for souls to take notice of a soulless body or, to them, a corpse.
Adjusting the front hem of her robes to reveal more of her voluptuous cleavage—there was no strategic point for it, but she just wanted a little change in wardrobe—she turned to the gathering Hollows that were encircling her like a pack of wolves. One hand went to the hilt of her nodachi, and she smiled in anticipation.
The rest of what happened began with a blur, a flash of light, and then a road filled with decimated bodies of Hollows, both mutilated and dismembered beyond all recognition.
Emi was surely living up to her name, because she was showing off the most sadistic grin she had ever shown.
She sighed contentedly while sheathing her blade. "Omoshirosou."
Kisuke Urahara had some trouble locating Orihime. The Hollows that attacked him were taken care of without wasted effort, so there was no need to release his zanpakuto . . . yet, anyway. It was better to do that once he found her.
Along his search through the empty streets around the central districts of Karakura, he was reunited with Rukia, Ururu, and Jinta. Their search for the shinigami substitute was a failure, they told him.
"Change of plans," he replied hurriedly. Some Hollows came to disrupt their conversation, but they were quickly eradicated by Ururu's rocket launcher. The loud explosions were sure to attract more of the Hollows to their vicinity, but Kisuke thought it was better that way. The less likely those Hollows would target humans after all.
"You guys go on ahead to Karakura Park," he continued. Rukia looked ready to state her opinion, but he flattened it with what he said next. "Kurosaki-san is there, fighting the Hollow horde alongside the Quincy."
"Uryuu Ishida . . ." Rukia murmured. "If we're going there, then where are you going?"
"I promised Kurosaki-san that I'll find Inoue-san for him."
"Why?"
Kisuke waved his fan around. "Kurosaki-san seems to be quite serious about her safety. Since he's busy taking care of the Hollows, he entrusted this job to me."
"He trusted you?" she questioned, one eyebrow arching.
"Yes, believe it or not. Didn't have much of a choice on who to pick, either."
"Urahara—"
"You three should go help Kurosaki-san right this instant. I don't think even he can hold off that amount of Hollows in little time." He looked up at the clouds, where they were creating a wide berth for the luminous crack in the sky. "It's growing bigger and bigger."
"We're not done yet here, Urahara."
"Yes, we're not. So much to do; so little time." He turned around to walk away—
"Wait!" Rukia yelled.
Kisuke looked back, his eyes shadowed over his hat.
"When this is over, you and I will be having a little chat."
"All right." Kisuke somehow knew that their 'little chat' would not come, but he had to say something to end the conversation. Rukia was a curious soul, as much as she'd try to deny it, and it was in that curiosity that pulled her into books and the education presented to her back in the shinigami academy. Kisuke was no fool; he did his homework on his frequent customers. And because of this light on her back story did he come to the conclusion that Soul Society would not delay her capture any longer after this fiasco was over.
With steeled emotions, Kisuke flash-stepped away from the street and decided to scout the area on the highest rooftop nearby. You'd find surprise etched onto his face when he reached one particular rooftop and found Emi giggling while skinning something alive. That something looked like a bear-type Hollow, around the same height as a teen-aged male. It screamed bloody murder as Emi dug her elongated blade into its flesh, making her look like a Biology student having fun dissecting a frog. Whenever the Hollow bear howled, she would deepen the sword's piercing entrance, stunning the beast for a while, before making a one-eighty degree turn on the sword like trying to open a lock with a key. She repeated this process two more times, and it disgusted Kisuke after each time.
He didn't move, lest he made Emi aware of his presence. He needed to tread carefully. Catching the prey by surprise was much better than facing it head-on. Shinigami had done this to Hollows for as long as he remembered, and there was no dishonor in using a presented advantage over your enemy. Then again, Kisuke was not much of a man of honor, anyway.
"Nice to meet you again, Urahara-kun," she said, not turning her eyes away from the disintegrating mask of her victim. The Hollow gave one final death rattle before the purification process was completed.
"Emi," he replied, not wanting to go with niceties. Normally he would've at least been a little happy-go-lucky, but the gravity of what he should do proved too much for him to hide his emotions behind a fictional mask.
"I know all about you, you know. Father's zanpakuto's spirit proved quite a resourceful person for information."
"What have you done?" His stomach churned. Kisuke knew what Orihime's father had done while sacrificing himself to save the girl, but how did that connect to Emi extracting what she wanted from Tsukiyomi?
"Father caught on quick on what I've done to princess when we were still infants."
Kisuke had a feeling that Emi was smirking while her back was to him. They were both facing down at the army of Hollows crowding on a particular spot in Karakura Park, which the rooftop they were on overlooked. Things were deteriorating rapidly into a state of utter chaos that it unnerved Kisuke somewhat. Even though he had faith in Ichigo Kurosaki to beat against the odds and defy fate in the most flashy attempt the boy could manage, the slim chance of him failing was still a worrisome aspect inside Kisuke's mentality. Not only for the life of Isshin's son, but also the fate of the city.
"Do you know where I'm going with this, Urahara-kun?"
"Not exactly," he answered. Truthfully, he was very interested, but the potent presence of several Hollows near their vicinity was a little distracting, like an annoying fly buzzing and swirling in front of your face.
"Simply put, Father had realized something was wrong the moment Mother gave out her last breath. He must've known then of my existence inside his daughter, and there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. I am a part of Orihime as much as his own alter-ego was a part of him."
"You refer to yourselves as 'alter-egos' but I know you are just parasites living inside innocent beings."
"Do you really think Father is all that innocent?" She faced him, her trademark smile flashing in full bloom. Her tone gave the impression of her enjoying their talk, and this revelation struck something undeniable in Kisuke: she didn't deny his accusation.
Instead of answering, he gave a question of his own, one that would hopefully propel him closer to the completion of the 'Evil persona' jigsaw puzzle. "Why are you even telling me this when you already know my intentions towards you?"
"Why?" She shrugged. "I don't even know myself. And how I knew about your planning to kill me is simple: Tsukiyomi had all the answers I needed to judge your character, how you react to different situations . . . and what you would do to fulfill the promise you made to Father."
Kisuke breathed deeply, but did not utter a word.
"It was fun devouring her, you know," Emi said. "Before Father foiled my first attempt in becoming the queen of this body, I had already finished making one part of princess's soul as my own. Do you know what it is?"
He did know, and the way Emi boasted on about what happened in the past solidified his theory. It also made more sense as to how she was able to take control of Orihime's shinigami body when Orihime least expected it. "You devoured Orihime's zanpakuto spirit after you were born."
"One hundred points to you, Urahara-kun." She rewarded him with three slow, unenthusiastic claps. No, not enthusiastic—it was more sarcastic, really. "So I'm sure you also know how that increased my powers, right? And I had fifteen years of mental training to get used to it. It's not enough to impress a veteran such as yourself, but I know it's enough to engulf you inside my playground.
"Princess is right about one thing. She is borrowing strength rather than using her own. She can't use her own because I have it; the spirit she had been talking to is nothing more than a replacement of the zanpakuto she lost. And with princess's original blade in my power, do you still think you have what it takes to kill me?"
"I won't know until I try." He readied Benihime, the incantations for the shikai release already at the tip of his tongue. He wasn't about to engage immediately or make the first strike, though. Like how he was not a man of honor, Emi was surely not a woman of fairness. Underhanded tricks were things he had to watch out for.
"Tsukiyomi also had information about your battle stats and techniques," Emi said, almost playfully. "Even your faults and fighting habits."
"Those were old stuff. A person can change a lot after a decade."
"Yes, yes." She nodded twice, still smiling, and rotated her wrists. Joints in her wrists audibly cracked and strained as they warmed up for an intense battle. "I suppose they do. Then again, the more things change, the more they stay the same."
The two warriors were about to start an epic duel when they were both forced to turn their attentions back to the park where the luminous presence of the crack widened into the shape of an eye. Two giant white claws clung onto the arcs of the eye, like pulling the doors of a malfunctioned elevator. And that was when its face exited the shroud of the Hollow World.
It was as Kisuke predicted: a Gillian-class Hollow had been baited.
Images of the past were swept by the wind. Images of her childhood, of her times with Sora, of her times with all her friends. They varied in topic and event, but all had one thing in common: they were dear memories to her. But there were also memories that weren't hers. Images of a man with short brown hair, horn-rimmed glasses, and an eerie but confident smile; of two hands covered in red blood slowly coagulating into black-like soot as smoke rose from them; of a white mask dipped into some black substance—oil, paint, tar, she wasn't sure—turning into a malevolent black, with dark brown eyes peering through the eyeholes; and of the blond shopkeeper she had met once, donning shinigami robes with a white haori and holding in his hand a small glass-like orb that seemed to radiate immense power.
Orihime had tried to escape Emi's imprisonment but the task was easier said than done. She didn't even know where to start looking for an exit. The meditation Rukia had taught her helped in navigating through her mind, but it didn't seem to work effectively against Emi's mind defenses.
The once gray mist of which she had awoken to gave way to the field of fallen swords. It wasn't immediate, though. The mist thinned out as if fading from existence, but the temperature was as cold as when she woke up. Orihime did not dare touch any of the swords impaling the dry ground.
There was no point in staying here; the sight of this place didn't bode well for her stomach, as she felt it flip like a fish out of water. She tried meditation again to help her get out of here—what worked once should work a second time, she believed—but her efforts ended up with nothing. Her eyes, closed from meditation, opened to the same scene after her first attempt of escape. The graveyard of swords looked as depressing as when she first came here, and it seemed to intensify for every minute the longer she stayed in this place. Orihime didn't want to stay here anymore than she had to, so she set out on looking for a way out, all while giving each sword she passed a bit of space, lest she accidentally touched one of them.
The sky overhead was like a fire close to being burned out. Night was closing upon this mind-world, and Orihime didn't want to travel inside this lonely world in the dark.
"Get yourself together, girl," she whispered to herself. "This is a test of your will, a test of your resolve. No one is here to help you now. Not even the kimono woman." No more borrowed strength. Whether you fail or succeed, it is all because of you and you alone.
Orihime balled her hands into fists, preparing herself for whatever lay beyond the graveyard of swords. She would get out of here no matter what.
After Emi relayed to princess about the happenings in the outside world, she turned back to Urahara. At the center of the park, the giant Hollow was halfway out of the crack.
"What excitement out here," she said, her tone displaying an obvious part of her personality, if her sadistic smile wasn't enough evidence. "What do you make of it, Urahara-kun?"
He said nothing.
Emi raised her sword, pointing the tip at the former shinigami captain. "Shall we start?"
Urahara was halfway through summoning his zanpakuto's shikai ("Awaken, Beni—") when she rushed at him, and elbowed him in the gut. The momentary stunned expression on the shopkeeper's face was almost priceless, so before it changed into a more serious face, Emi directed her blade at his neck.
He dodged in time—a phenomenal feat, considering he had to bend his whole upper body backwards reminiscent of Neo—but the gust accompanying the slash blew away his hat before he had time to keep it in place. His torso met the ground, and he would've been severed vertically in half if he had not rolled backwards before Emi redirected her sword and cut it down on him like a man slamming a sledgehammer one-handed. Sword met the paved rooftop in an almost quiet union; she stopped it just in time for the tip of her sword to touch the ground as light as a fly.
Emi did not stop attacking as she dashed forward, catching Urahara in a kneeling position as he swung his cane in the opposite direction of her own swing. She felt a moment of slow-motion entering her senses and observed how Urahara's lips moved slowly as their two swords were close to reaching their flashy embrace.
She saw red. But it was a different red than what she first thought.
It was not Urahara's blood nor was it hers, but a barrier created a split second before the two swords collided. Its crimson shade gave the impression of hardened blood, and Emi had a feeling that it was composed of the red liquid. The barrier was obviously a skill of Urahara's shikai, seeing that he had successfully released his zanpakuto. Though it had caused a delay in the shopkeeper's inevitable demise, she couldn't help but feel entranced at the color and shape of the barrier. It was beautiful in a morbid sort of way . . . her personal preference for art.
Their eyes were narrowed at each other, though Emi's was more playful than serious, as if she were in a state of euphoria. Emi was pushing her sword downwards while Urahara was pushing his upwards. They were in a battle of strength, waiting for one to outlast the other. Their muscles strained to keep up to the demands of applying vast amounts of force into their lock. Emi was grinning at this all the way. She had regenerative abilities, so the strain on her arm's muscles were minimal as they kept healing back up; Urahara didn't. It was a win situation for her.
But it was in that moment where Urahara had three seconds away from giving in that they both felt it. Energy insurmountable, pulsing, that it left them both gasping in surprise. They looked back towards the Gillian getting slashed around the shoulder, but that was not what surprised them enough to put their battle-to-the-death on hold.
Ichigo's reiatsu had risen fivefold, gradually increasing. And it was radiating erratically like a severed but active livewire.
Without an exchange of words, the two jumped off the rooftop, running in top speed towards the park.