A/N: Dum-da-da-daaaaahhh! Chapter 11! I don't know why, but nearing the end of this is making me both excited and a bit depressed.

Just to let everyone know, when this story is all wrapped up, I will be publishing a Ggio/Soi fic on request, with side pairings of Ulquihime, Grimnel, Ichiruki, Kisuke/Yorichi to name a few, in case anyone is interested.

I won't bother you anymore, here is your Wednesday update! Cheers!

Burning Devils

"But why did you do that?" Tatsuki shouted at Ichigo, now in the safety of the home, and with a pack of snow pressed to his swollen eye.

Ichigo shrugged noncommittally, and catching Tatsuki's eye, knew it would be an insufficient answer. He sighed quietly, wanting to avoid frustrating the raging brunette further.

"I was trying to convince him that no matter what he did, he's not good for Orihime," the hot headed boy mumbled, "but fighting's all I know how to do…"

"How do you figure he's no good for her?" Tatsuki asked. She thought she knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it from the horse's mouth. The thought had crossed her own mind many times, if he was thinking what she knew he was.

"I don't know… he's just so much stronger than we are… if he slipped in his self control for even a second he might kill her…" Ichigo looked miserable, and Tatsuki sympathized with him.

"This is something Orihime needs to do on her own, Ichigo," she answered with a soft exhalation of mingled annoyance and understanding, "and…"

Orihime chose that moment to reenter the room, another pack of snow in her hands; it was somewhat larger than the one held to Ichigo's face. She slid her feet forward carefully until she felt the heat radiating from his body, kneeling there by his knees.

"This is for your ribs," she said, holding out the damp cloth that was wrapped around the pack of ice. Her fingertips were beginning to turn a bit blue; she had spent quite a while scrapping the snow off the ground for Ichigo. That alone proved how much she valued him, even if her feelings were no longer to the affect of love.

"How did you know that I…." The red haired young man started in surprise, and Orihime shook her head sadly, cloudy eyes passing over his face without recognition.

"Ulquiorra said he felt your ribs crack when he kicked you; he tried to be gentle with you, but he was so angry…" Ichigo flashed a look at Tatsuki, as if to say 'I told you so.'

"How could you tell he was mad?" Tatsuki wondered after catching Ichigo's glare, "Even when Ichigo sucker punched him his face didn't change at all, and nor did his voice."

"You might not be able to tell," Orihime sighed, "but he does get upset. It's not in his voice or face, but the way he moves, talks, feels… I don't know, it's hard to explain, but I know. I just know… listen, I think one of you should come with me to see him sometime soon… perhaps two days from now, to give him time to calm down a bit."

"What?" Ichigo cried sharply, causing Orihime to wince. She knew he would be upset by the proposition… and it was obvious that Ulquiorra was less than fond of Ichigo, but all the same…

"So not Ichigo," Tatsuki said coolly, giving a quick look to the red headed boy, "I guess I'll go with you. But why?"

The blind girl shrugged as she turned her empty gaze in Tatsuki's direction.

"To get him used to others, I suppose," she said in reply. It would be good, she thought, to let him at least adapt to being around humans without being incredibly high strung. Knowing him, his interactions with anyone would be brief, involving very few words, but it was better than nothing.

"A demon, getting used to people…" Ichigo snorted under his breath; it could only ever end badly, but Tatsuki would not allow him to make a move. If she didn't allow it, she was Orihime's main caretaker, and he could do nothing against her.

And so he would watch, and wait. It was all he could do.

…

"The demon?" Yorichi Shihoin leaned forward, her short kimono pulling tight across her breasts, and revealing her bandage bound calves and bare feet, "You mean the one who lives in the woods on the north end of the village?"

"Yes, the one known as the Morobito," Chizuru replied, kneeling respectfully before the panel of the four great houses. The panel consisted of the Shihoin, the Kuchiki, the Feng, and the Kasumioji heads; on the far right was Yorichi, the one who had spoken first. She was a wild one, reproached by her family for refusing noble marriage, insisting on marrying the itinerate merchant known as Kisuke Urahara. Beside her was Byakuya Kuchiki, a tall, proud man who kept to the rules at all times; he seemed to hate the Shihoin head, a feeling which the strangely exotic woman ignored stubbornly. To the left of the Kuchiki representative was the leader of the Feng household, Sui Feng. She was a distinctly masculine woman, short and lithe, with her hair in twin braids. She kept charge of the ninja clan that inhabited the village. Lastly, on the left was the head of the Kasumioji, a very young girl with blonde hair, in the company of her two attendants.

It was the morning after Chizuru's spying escapade into the woods, and beside Chizuru knelt Kobayashi, the scroll maker, to bring testimony against Ulquiorra. Truly all decisions in the village were made by the village head, Genryusai Yamamoto, but to get to him, one had to take civil matters through the four noble houses first.

"The Morobito has never cause any trouble," Byakuya said in his deep, measured voice, "I don't see why he should be expelled from his home. It is unnecessary."

"T-that thing is unnatural!" Kobayashi blurted out suddenly. Realizing his mistake he quickly shut up and dipped his gaze to the floor boards between his hands, bowing low. Chizuru watched as Yorichi cocked her head curiously, Byakuya watched indifferently, Sui Feng narrowed her silver eyes in distaste, and the young Kasumoiji, Rurichiyo, grew distracted with a fray in her kimono.

"Explain," Sui Feng commanded flatly, her iron stare unsettling.

"Have you ever seen it?" Chizuru asked with a shudder, "As pale as a dead man with black nails and lips, and snakes eyes the color of green moss, with black markings on his face. It's hideous,"

"I could say the same of Shihoin," Byakuya said blankly, "But here, looks account for nothing."

"You-!" Sui Feng started in angrily, but she was cut off by Yorichi's uproarious laughter.

"Well played, Bya-kun!" She laughed so hard tears started from her eyes, "Well played!"

While this was happening, Rurichiyo began whispering to one of her attendants discontentedly.

Chizuru watched, nonplussed. She was serious here! What was wrong with them! Couldn't they see that this was important?

"It's going after a village girl!" the young woman shouted. There was a sudden hush in the room as seven pairs of eyes turned on her. She swallowed drily as she continued, "The thing is going after Orihime Inoue."

"The blind girl?" Yorichi's face was clear of all traces of laughter now. She looked dead serious.

"Yes,"

"What do you mean, 'going after'?" Sui Feng asked irritably.

"He feigns love to grow close to her; her eyes are sightless, so she cannot see what a monster he is, but he is known to have lived by the sword before fleeing here," Chizuru said.

"We know of his background," Sui Feng snapped.

"He wants to devour her, body and soul, by drawing close to her," the pink haired woman finished, her voice shaking.

This, she truly believed. There was no way that a thing like him could truly love a woman of the same species that he had formerly detested so. One only had to look at his face to see how much he hated humans. That stare he had sent her when he caught her spying had sent a lance of pure terror through her heart… even now she could feel where the gaze had burned her, and she looked quickly over her shoulder; what if he came after her? He hated humans! So why Orihime? There was no proper reason.

"Is this true?" Byakuya asked, looking at Kobayashi. Chizuru silently prayed that the man would answer correctly.

"Y-yes," he said nervously, flicking black hair out of his eyes, "The demon has terrorized my shop enough for me to know that he would never love a human woman."

He was smarter than she had originally thought, that Kobayashi. He had taken the words directly from her mouth before she had a chance to speak them. She thanked the gods. If she could get rid of the demon… if she could save her princess, she would do anything. Even if it meant not telling the council the whole truth.

The four noble houses deliberated for a moment before Byakuya turned to them as said: "We shall take your matter to Yamamoto-sama. You may go."

Chizuru stood unhappily; it wasn't fast enough. Often times it took weeks for the old man and the council to deliberate over an issue. But to take things into her own hands….

She left the room with Kobayashi; as soon as they were outside, she turned to him.

"Thank you for your help… but…"

"But?"

"I need one more favor," Chizuru told him directly.

"Oh?" he looked a bit surprised.

"I need you to 'accidently' tell people about what the demon is doing. Many people here like Orihime; if they think she's in danger, then…"

"Then they will take care of things on their own," Kobayashi finished for her, "Consider it done. The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

With that he walked away, not another word spoken between them.

By nightfall, a crowd had gathered at the edge of the forest.

….

"Come, it lies this way…"

"The thing must be killed."

"Eat or be eaten,"

"But perhaps it is too strong?"

"We have many people with us, and the element of surprise."

"It must be destroyed.

"Destroy the demon."

"Destroy the demon."

"Destroy the demon."

The mob seethed around her like a tide, and Chizuru felt a distinct thrill of pride to see the work of her hands moving around her with such bloodlust. This would save her princess for sure. Orihime would be saved from the demon by Chizuru's doing and forethought.

Among the mob was Kobayashi the scroll maker, Ishida the scribe, Ren the sawyer's son, and many others from the village, almost all of them male, but not so that the group was entirely masculine. A few of Sui Feng's female ninja had decided by their own will to attend the battle, should it come to a full fight.

All carried some manner of weapon in their hand, whether it be a sword, a kitchen cleaver, a scythe, a weaving needle, or a torch. If it came to a fight, the people were prepared. They did not go into the forest intending to die.

Intentions pave the devil's road, as the saying goes.

…..

Ulquiorra plucked disconsolately at his shamisen strings from the confines of his home, the scent of peach blossoms flooding the room; it was early spring, and the buds that had slept dormant in their coats of ice had barely begun to split open and had begun draw drowsy bees from their chilled hive. All of this splendor was wasted on him in the cool night as he played his instrument with an almost reluctant feel. He had little else to do, however, so he began to play the tune of Rokudan No Shirabe, in a trance-like state somewhere between sleeping and consciousness. He never really slept, but he rested like this every once and a while. He never really was comfortable with letting his guard down… like a stray cat that sleeps with one eye open.

To his ears the notes suddenly sounded broken and discordant, and so he stopped playing. As he did so there was a crash somewhere above his head, and then a roar that he recognized well: fire. The sounds that had previously escaped his notice now pervaded his senses almost violently. Shouting people, burning pitch, heat against his skin from his blazing straw roof as the fire caught on the bamboo mats of the floor and blocked the exit, the smoke that blinded him and suffocated him all at once…

The villagers outside his home were roaring approval as his home burned to the ground.

He felt fury welling up in him and he decided it was time that the filth of the village knew fear. How was it that the woman belonged to the same breed as they? It was like comparing a starved city mongrel to the proud mountain she-wolf. It was time that those mongrels realized and accepted their filthy human role as trash.

…..

Chizuru watched the blaze with undisguised relish, enjoying every spark that flew into the air, blinking like a star against the night before winking out. As of yet nothing had happened, and she wondered whether the demon was even in the house, for it could not possibly be that easy to destroy something like him… a monster like that would surely put up at least a little bit of a fight, right?

There was a sudden loud crash, and at first Chizuru thought that the roof had caved in. But rather than collapsing downward, the burning thatch exploded outward, and something flew out into the sky.

Her heart stopped as she saw what it was that fell.

A dark heart pulsed in a whirlwind of sparks, a piece of the night itself, the object landed and revealed itself to a tightly wrapped bundle of leathery wings, the black fur that covered them like velvet smoldering brightly against the deep-shadow black. The acrid smell of burning hair reached her nose before the object unfolded itself. The wings appeared to be those of a bat, and yet… and yet… Her mind struggled to accept what she saw.

The wings shot open with blinding speed and revealed the naked torso of the demon, his skin blindingly white against the darkness; his eyes had turned golden and piercing like those of an osprey, gleaming hungrily above wide swaths of black that painted his cheeks. Twin white horns spiraled up from his head, and it was easy to see from the way he crouched with one clawed hand against the earth that his lower half was covered in black fur from the waist down, his feet having turned into four toed, wicked talons, like those of a bird of prey. A thin tail with a tuft of fur at the end cracked the air like a whip as the demon stood, gaining his full height and extending his wings to their span of a grand nearly twenty feet.

Chizuru nearly choked on her terror.

It was not that easy to destroy something like him, she thought again, perhaps impossible.

He is a monster.

A devil.