BUCKLE YOUR SEAT BELTS AND HAAAAANG ON BECAUSE THIS CHAPTER IS
THE GREAT
THE LEGENDARY
GIN VS IKKAKU!
Also, for trivia, I'm pretty sure it's a new length record at just over 5000 words..
X-X-X
The Striking Snake
Ch14
Over the Wall
X-X-X
The sun was barely over the horizon; Gin looked as cheerful and reptilian as ever, while his companions were rubbing the sleep from their eyes.
"Now, I imagine you're all wondering why I dragged you all put here by this massive pillar at dawn."
Chizuru rolled her eyes. "Well, we definitely are now," she muttered. "Just tell us already."
"Mm. Well, the reason it's dawn is because the divisions whose grounds are our target area tend to change watch around dawn." Kukaku smirked again. "The reason we're by this pillar is because it's not a pillar - it's our way in."
"Huh?" Chizuru blinked. Gin bit back a snicker - he always found tired people entertaining. And vulnerable, which was often a plus.
"That bubble shield I made you all practice yesterday is gonna be the mother of all cannonballs." Kukaku turned to tweedledum and tweedledee. "Alright, boys, put her into position. You should know the inclinations to hit the Seireitei from here."
"Hai, Kukaku-sama!" The pair set to work on a huge rotary crank.
Apart from Gin, the group's eyes widened - and even the fox himself had to admit he was impressed at the sight.
Inch by inch, the colossal artillery piece angled down until it was close to 45 degrees. It looked powerful enough to destroy half a city with a single shell.
"You can't be serious," said Tatsuki. "You're going to shoot us into the Seireitei?"
"Oh, I am." Kukaku hoisted open a human-sized hatch on side of the barrel. "Get in and get the bubble set up. Once I close this door behind you, you have exactly a hundred and twenty seconds before I set off the firing charge. Understand?"
Yoruichi cut across the various protests. "We understand. Thanks for everything, Kukaku."
"Heh. Thanks to you, too." The explosives expert brushed her hair back. "Now get going."
X-X-X
The boom of the cannon firing had been a shock. Gin was relieved he'd managed to keep concentration on holding up the shield.
The sudden sledgehammer of acceleration had been even more shocking. Gin was pretty sure some kind of Bakudõ was holding them in place, because according to newtonian physics, they should all be red paste on the back of the bubble. Nevertheless, between the Quincy and the two Shinigami, the shield held.
Despite these hazards, they had managed to get airborne. For a precious few seconds, there was peace - and other than the faint whistle of the wind, there was silence.
The terrain of the immense Rukongai city stretched out beneath them. It was colossal - the Seireitei citadel alone might have been the size of Tokyo, and it was probably no more than a hundredth of the whole.
Rukongai might hold close to a billion souls. It was a humbling thought.
And then there was the lurching of a change in acceleration, and the faintest feeling of having lost weight.
Everyone's eyes began darting back and forth. They all knew they had begun their descent.
A second later, and they hit the barrier.
X-X-X
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion.
The bubble shield slowed considerably as a shimmering gold energy field appeared before them, suddenly offering immense resistance. Gin could feel the bubble collapsing, the damage feeding back through the catalyst.
His eyes narrowed even further. They had not come so far to fail here, and he would not allow it. His hand tightened around the catalyst sphere.
His reiatsu surged as his determination burned with a cold, lethal intent. The spike did not last long, but it did not need to.
Reinvigorated, the vestiges of momentum were enough to carry the spherical shield through the barrier. They were officially in the court of pure souls.
Then, with a loud cracking noise, the catalyst shattered.
Gin didn't have time to wonder if it was his vice-like grip on the thing, or if the energy stresses had broken it. His hand shot out, grabbing the first handhold he could find - Ganju's shirt, as luck would have it.
His other hand stretched out to Orihime. She, out of all of them, was almost certainly the least capable of surviving alone; certainly she possessed the least offensive power. He didn't want to leave her alone -
But his hand fell short, grasping nothing but air. The breaking of the shield had pushed them apart, and the distance was widening quickly as they fell.
His slitted crimson eyes scanned the falling, separating groups. Chad had grabbed Uryuu and thrown him at Orihime, but the reverse momentum had thrown him away from the pair - Orihime would be safe with Uryuu, and Chad was plenty strong alone. At least Gin wouldn't have to endure a constant tirade on how much better Quincies were.
Tatsuki had her hand around Chizuru's collar. She'd probably just pulled her away from Orihime; it would have been better if they were both with her and Chad, but Tatsuki was strong and Chizuru wasn't too shabby herself. They'd be fine.
One by one, the groups dwindled into the distance as they fell towards the walled city far below. Regrouping was going to be difficult.
This was definitely not part of the plan. Well, might as well make the most of it...
Beside Gin, Ganju twisted himself around, stretching his hand out towards the ground and moving it in a circle. A red glow formed over his palm.
"Turn to dust! Stone Wave!"
A large circle of cobblestones in the street directly below them abruptly shifted as it turned to sand.
Then, with an undignified thump, the two invaders landed.
X-X-X
The Senzaikyû was cold.
In fact, physically, this was not true. Rukongai had quite a balmy climate as Soul Cities went, and the Senzaikyû was in fact no colder than any other building at midday.
The chill arose from the fact that the stone of the white-painted tower was deathstone. The entire tower was made of it. In such close, inescapable proximity, the deathstone leeched the reiatsu from a soul, rendering them powerless. It was a horrible feeling, but few cared for the comfort of maximum-security prisons.
Rukia's cell was an entire floor of the barren construction. It had two tall, thin windows, neither of which were barred - no soul could stay long in the Senzaikyû and have any reiatsu left about them, and consequently, a jump from the windows would mean death far below.
One window looked out at the Sokyõku hill, where Rukia was destined to be executed. The other looked out of the Seireitei towards the White Road gate. It was the latter which was most often the object of Rukia's window-gazing.
For the thousandth time, she wondered fruitlessly as to why she had been sentenced to such an extreme punishment. As before, no answer sprung to mind.
Clearly, there were some members of central 46 who had a serious grudge against her. But why? Why would they -
Rukia's musings were cut short by a faint, deep booming noise. It was so low it was almost subsonic - she did not so much hear it as feel it rattle her bones.
As she watched, a bright gold comet rose in the western sky, glowing brighter and brighter as it climbed.
With a start, she realized it was following an arc towards the Seireitei.
Then the missile struck the invisible barrier, and the second boom was much, much louder. It was laced with cracking overtones as the shield momentarily slipped, allowing the comet to pierce through.
Any weak thing would have been atomized by the barrier. To cut through it, the projectile must have had an incredibly strong spiritual presence embedded in it.
Though she couldn't see them, she knew that every Shinigami on duty at that moment had widened their eyes in fear. The deathstone walls of the Seireitei - the very symbol of the Gotei's invincibility - had failed. Only for a second, but it had been enough. They symbol was broken.
The luminescent missile abruptly shattered, splitting into several smaller pieces and scattering. As the thing broke, Rukia caught the slightest brush of reiatsu. It was unbearably faint, barely discernible over the background noise of thousands of weak Shinigami, and further weakened by the deathstone around her. By the time it reached her, it barely existed at all.
Nevertheless, the tiniest zephyr of spiritual energy brushed her senses.
Cold. Freezing cold, and dry, like the paper of an ancient book, or the scales of a lizard. Dusty. Elusive, deceptive - almost playful...
Rukia's eyes widened. "No..."
There was no mistaking the reiatsu signature of Gin Ichimaru.
X-X-X
Once more, the twenty-six most powerful beings in the three worlds stood convened - although the captains were the only ones speaking; the lieutenants were effectively only present as a formality.
"The point still stands that the invaders are at large in Rukongai, and may still attempt to enter the Seireitei - and for this, the blame can be placed solely on Kurosaki-taicho." Captain Soifon glared at the accused. "Jidanbõ has reported that he was defeated by a single member of their group, and that there were seven in all. If we assume they are all of comparable power, then as a guerrilla force they have the potential to cause serious damage."
"Noted, captain," said the captain-commander. "How do you recommend the ryoka be dealt with?"
"Send at least a hundred Onmitsukidõ agents into Rukongai," she said immediately. "Have them track down suspicious characters. Once they finish tagging targets, send out forces from other divisions to eliminate them."
"Eliminate?" Captain Unohana's soft voice spoke up. "Not apprehend and bring in for questioning?"
"I see no reason to," replied Soifon shortly. "They have clearly stated themselves enemies of the Seireitei. Do we have reason to believe they represent a larger force?"
"No." Byakuya spoke up. "Kurosaki-taicho's report described an individual who matches the description of the deputy Shinigami I apprehended when arresting Kuchiki Rukia. The group are likely no more than his friends."
"Then there is no reason to leave them alive - far more efficient to kill on sight," Soifon finished. "If Kurosaki-taicho had remembered this, we wouldn't even need to discuss this right now."
"Ah, jeez," huffed Ichigo. "Are we still on that? What do you want, a bunch of flowers as an apology?"
"Captain Soifon raises a valid point, Kurosaki-taicho," said Yamamoto. "Your actions were sloppy at best, and suspect at worst. This needs to be settled."
"Hey, I said I was sorry, Yama-jii. What more do you want?"
"Your lack of respect for the Sõtaicho does you no favors, Ichigo," said captain Aizen. "Were it my choice, I would have a formal inquiry take place."
There was a moment of silence.
Momo Hinamori, the lieutenant of the fifth division under captain Aizen, suppressed the urge to frown. This kind of interaction between the two captains was exceedingly uncommon.
Although Momo (along with several other lieutenants) feared and despised the... eccentric third captain, It was no secret that Aizen and Ichigo were close friends. Ichigo had joined the 5th right out of the academy and had been Aizen's direct subordinate for most of his Shinigami career, only leaving the position of fifth lieutenant when offered the position of third captain. The two had often been inseparable in the past; Aizen was notably the only person who Ichigo ever used a respectful tone around.
The sudden hostility between the two men was remarkably unusual.
Ichigo met Aizen's eyes, his lazy, amiable expression never changing. Aizen's own calm hazel eyes stared back. The air was so thick it would be a struggle to cut it with a zanpakutõ.
Then, abruptly, the tension was shattered by the loud banging of an alarm - followed by the boom of a heavy strike on the Seireitei's anathema shield.
The alarm was different this time. More urgent, louder, and slightly higher pitched. Red Alert.
"This meeting is adjourned!" Bellowed the annoyed captain-commander. "Kurosaki, we shall decide your fate another time! To your posts!"
Captains Soifon, Hitsugaya and Kuchiki flash-stepped away. The older and less high-strung captains proceeded towards the door.
"Oddly convenient timing, wouldn't you say, Ichigo?" Murmured Aizen as he passed his fellow captain.
Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying I set this up so the ryoka would hit us before anyone could lay the blame on me?"
"You said it," replied the older captain. "Not me. Come on, Momo."
Glancing nervously back at the third captain, Momo followed her captain out of the first division building.
X-X-X
Gin placed his hands on the edge of the new sandpit, his skinny frame practically gliding out of the sand. Ganju, being shorter and heavier built, was slightly less dignified.
"Hey, look at that!"
The two invaders turned at the brash, loud voice.
"How lucky can you get? Here I was slacking off instead of walking to my patrol post, and a pair of ryoka fall right into my lap!"
Two Shinigami jumped off the nearest rooftop and onto the street. Gin could practically taste the power they radiated.
The closest one was bald (or was his hair shaven?) and had curious red paint lining his eyes. He was thin and his shihakusõ was loose and ill-fitting, but the way he held himself was enough to suggest muscles like steel elevator cables in that skinny frame. His overpowering reiatsu was a boiling hot metallic feel, like a seething, caged animal; he felt strong enough to crush the average hollow with his bare hands.
The man beside him was almost a perfect opposite. His shihakusõ might have been fitted by a tailor, and his long violet hair was neater and better groomed than Gin would have thought possible for a soldier. He even wore two strange feathers in his eyelashes; one tinted orange and extending to the side, the other tinted magenta and extending upwards. His entire look radiated aesthetic extravagance.
However, on closer inspection, he was certainly no less deadly. While he did not have quite the same raw, indiscriminate power as his bald companion, he was undeniably mighty and dangerous. His reiatsu was purple - cool, focused, and hard as steel. Instead of animalistic fury, he bore a lethal grace.
The combined spirit pressure of the two men was thick enough to make both Ganju and Gin sweat.
"Lucky, lucky, lucky!" The bald man did a little dance. "Here I was sure someone else would get to fight you, but here you are anyway!"
He lowered his sheathed katana, pointing it at Gin. "You. You're a Shinigami. I can feel it, even if you don't seem to have a zanpakutõ. So I'm guessing you're probably the stronger. Fight me."
Gin did his best to look crestfallen without opening his eyes. "Aww, do I have to?"
"It does seem impolite to set on our foes before they're ready," said the better groomed of the two. "After all, they did just fall from the sky."
"Che!" The bald one huffed. "Alright, you heard him. Get the sand outta your asses and draw your swords already."
Ganju leaned over and whispered in Gin's ear. "Ichimaru-san, we should run," he said urgently. "These guys can't be any ordinary Shinigami. They're strong. They gotta be top-level officers; no way we can take them."
"Eh? What're you two arguing about?" Shouted the boisterous Shinigami. "I said, draw 'em! What fun's a battle if your enemy won't even draw their weapon?"
"Whatever, Ichimaru-san," said Ganju, "but I'm running."
Quick as a flash, Ganju turned and sprinted away from the Shinigami.
The three death gods watched him go. Gin sighed vaguely.
The bald man rolled his eyes. "Shoulda guessed at least one was a coward," he huffed. "I still wanna fight this guy. Yumichika?"
"Mm. I'm on it." The extravagant Shinigami took off after Ganju, moving with frightening speed.
The two remaining men watched him go.
"Anyway," said the bald Shinigami, his attention returning to Gin. "Been forever since I had a good fight that wasn't against my own captain. Let's fight."
"Are you sure?" Gin tried again. "I mean, couldn't we not and say we did - "
The other Shinigami's eyes narrowed, and he drew his sword with a metallic sound. "Fine, ryoka," he said, irritation layering his voice. "If you're that determined to not fight, I suppose I can kill you where you stand, even if killing an unarmed man leaves a bad taste in my mouth."
The hairless man swung the sword with lethal force. There was a clash of metal.
With almost inhuman speed, Gin had whipped Shinsõ out of her sheath in his sleeve and into a back-handed block. "Well, if yer really that desperate for a battle, I guess I can oblige," he said, his frown shifting back into a plastic grin. "After all, we're not in that much of a hurry. Got a few days yet before time's a problem."
The bald man smirked, reversing his sword and swinging it around again. He was also fast, lethally so; all that saved Gin from being eviscerated was the fact that Shinsõ's small size made her extremely maneuverable.
"Hey, ryoka boy," said the bald man. "Why didn't you run away too?"
"Huh?" Gin put on his nonplussed face.
"I'm guessing the guy you were with ran because he saw how much stronger we were," replied the Shinigami. "Not that it would make me happy, but if you wanted to live, why didn't you run too? I mean, you handle yourself well, but I'm clearly stronger."
Gin's smirk returned with full force. "Well, if you're stronger'n me, ya'd be sure to run faster too," he replied. "So you're bound to be fighting me one way or another. Better to fight now then let ya run me to exhaustion first, right?"
"Huh. You ain't as dumb as you look, ryoka," the Shinigami replied.
He lashed out, swinging for Gin's neck. Gin ducked and stabbed sideways, driving the point of Shinsõ towards his opponent's ribs.
Gin's eyes flashed open for a second as his opponent's scabbard knocked his blade away. He immediately dropped further and rolled, evading a lethal downwards slash which struck sparks off the cobblestones.
He leaped back to his feet before his opponent could recover, swinging a vertical slash towards the bald man's face. The Shinigami, however, twisted his hilt with the same inhuman speed and parried Gin's strike again.
Gin pushed off from the hilt blow and jumped, smoothly back-flipping to land on the roof of one of the adjacent buildings. As his opponent turned to face him, he threw his zanpakutõ, as hard as he could.
The bald man's eyes widened, and he blocked the thrown weapon with a slash - only to find Gin had vanished. There was a faint hissing of flash-step -
The Shinigami swung his scabbard as he spun, but the block was a second off; there was a sharp spike of pain as a blade slid through the skin above his right eye. Instead of trying to defend further, he stabbed forward with his own sword.
Gin jumped back to avoid a follow-up. His opponent did the same, separating them for a moment.
Gin shifted Shinsõ into his left hand and wiped the blood from his right eye, although the wound was still bleeding quickly. "All right, I guess the score's even," he said. "Scratch for scratch."
"You're pretty good, ryoka," said the bald man. "What's your name?"
Gin paused for breath, his smile growing even more menacing.
"Heh. Name's Gin," he replied.
Then he opened his right eye, the blood from the wound making a delightful backdrop for his own crimson iris. "Ichimaru Gin."
The other Shinigami raised an eyebrow. "Silver?" He said. "Hah, should have known. But still, it's a good name, Gin."
Gin narrowed his eye again, though his smile didn't waver. "Really? First time anyone's ever complimented my name before," he mused. "How d'ya figure that?"
"They say men with 'ichi' in their names are always strong, good-looking and bursting with talent," he smirked. "And your name has an 'ichi' in it. Just like mine."
"Oh?"
"Yep. I'm Madarame Ikkaku*, third seat officer of the eleventh division!" He stated proudly. "As fellow 'ichi' men, let's be friends!"
Gin put on his confused look. "But aren't we trying to kill each other here?" He wiped his eye again.
Ikkaku's eyes focused on Gin's hand. The was a pause.
"I don't get it," said Ikkaku, ignoring Gin's query. "I'm clearly as fast as you, and probably stronger. But look at you there. You never use more than one hand."
"Huh?" Said Gin. "I suppose I don't, at that. What of it?" He wiped his eye again, trying to stem the bleeding.
"And there. Hard to tell with you, but I'm pretty sure you just took your eyes off me."
"Well, yeah," replied Gin. "I was wiping the blood out of my eye. I didn't really peg you as the type to kill a man while he's tending his wounds."
"But what good is that gonna do?" Countered Ikkaku. "Forehead wounds bleed like hoses. If you aren't gonna stop the bleeding, why bother wiping?"
As he spoke, Ikkaku removed the cap on his sword's hilt to reveal a reserve of styptic oil. He then applied it to the gash on his own eye, slowing the bleeding immediately.
"Huh," said Gin. "S'pose I should have thought of that, really."
"I can't figure you out, Gin," Ikkaku continued. "You fight sloppy. You hold your sword loose; hell, you even threw it away there. You don't think ahead. Clearly you don't have a shred of experience with real battles... and yet... you're fast as a hawk, your blows have iron behind them, and your sword dances like you're a kendo master. You can't be just an amateur with good instincts. You were trained. Hard and fast, if I'm any judge."
"Well, my instincts are good, but you're right," said Gin, almost bashfully.
"I thought as much. Who's your teacher?"
"I only trained with him for a few days, but he did teach me most of how to fight," said Gin. "Man by the name of Urahara Kisuke."
Ikkaku's eyes widened. There was a moment of silence.
"Urahara Kisuke, eh?" Ikkaku said at last. "Well... in that case, I must apologize."
"For what?" Said Gin, raising Shinsõ into a guard position. "How do you know Urahara?"
"For holding back." Ikkaku straightened. "If Urahara was your master, it'd be seriously rude for me to kill you with less than my full strength."
He slammed his sword and sheath together, the katana's hilt touching the mouth of the scabbard.
"Grow, Hõzukimaru!"
There was a flash of red reiatsu, and what appeared to be a vortex of wind formed around the conjunction of the sword and sheath. Gin suffered a brief, sharp headache as the fighter's spirit pressure spiked.
The halo of wind and dust dissipated. In place of his sword and scabbard, Ikkaku now held a Kikuchi Yari spear, a crimson horsehair tassel on one end and a vicious naginata blade on the other.
"Neat," said Gin, spinning Shinsõ idly in his right hand. "Must be a nice advantage - I doubt many people are used to fighting against a spear. Can't say I am, either, but I'll do my best."
Ikkaku grinned crazily, twirling Hõzukimaru in his right hand.
"Here I come!"
The spear shot forward.
Gin flicked Shinsõ up into another backhanded parry, holding her close to himself. The spear slid off the wakizashi with its course almost unaltered, and Gin stepped forward into the opening.
As he brought Shinsõ around to slash downwards, he saw Ikkaku smirk, and his own smile vanished in an instant.
"Split, Hõzukimaru!"
The shaft of the spear abruptly separated into three sections, attached by thin but durable-looking chains. The weapon's momentum caused the leading sections to turn, wrapping around Gin's shoulders.
Gin twisted his hand, just barely managing to turn the forward slash into a cross parry as the nagi blade swung towards him from the other side. His block was off-kilter, however, and the spearhead slashed across his forearm, leaving a deep gash.
Gin quickly spun out of the lock and switched Shinsõ back into his uninjured right hand. "Well now that's a dirty trick," he said, his smile slowly returning. "Though, far be it from me to bad-mouth trickery."
"It is," agreed Ikkaku, spinning the center section of the bõ-nagi hybrid. "Most that are below my level fall as soon as I use that. It helps to catch 'em off guard, of course. Still, you survived that split, so you must be even better than I first took you for... well done, ryoka. There's hardly anyone who doesn't wear a haori that can fight on my level."
"Ah? I thought you said you were a third officer," said Gin. "Ain't the lieutenants supposed to be stronger?"
"Third officer of the eleventh division," said Ikkaku proudly. "The eleventh are the shock troops of the Seireitei! We love to fight! We live to fight! Whatever our other failings, we're the roughest, toughest gang of warriors in the whole Gotei Juusan-Tai!"
Gin gave a shaky laugh. "I'll be sure to keep out of your way in the future," he said.
"Many do. It's a wise choice," Ikkaku asserted. "I dunno how I match against every lieutenant - my own lieutenant always beats me, but other than that, all I can say is that I'm in their league. But still. I'm lieutenant-level as a third seat."
"Wow," said Gin, his voice still nervous and impressed. "Ya must really be something..."
"Hah! You could say that," Ikkaku replied. "Why, I've even - "
"Shoot to kill, Shinsõ..."
Gin's stance did not change at all. The only warning had been his crimson eyes snapping open before the half a second it took to almost inaudibly whisper her shikai command. Ikkaku tried to block, but neither his position nor his current weapon type were set up to do so.
The spear of God ripped through Ikkaku's torso, nailing him to the wall by his right lung. His attempt at parrying had probably saved his life; an inch or two to the left and the blade would have pierced his heart.
"D... damn," he coughed. "I had a feeling you were... hiding something, but... damn."
"Good, isn't she? In this form, she has the blade length of a hundred swords." Gin straightened, letting his left hand fall from where it had been obscuring his right, and retracting the blade. "I was wondering how long I'd have to wait to get ya both close enough and distracted. You're fast enough that if ya'd been a little more alert, or a little farther away, ya would've been able to dodge."
Ikkaku's laugh turned into a cough, and he fell to his knees.
"Now I know you're pretty tough, but I don't feel in the mood to finish ya off," Gin said. "After all, as fellow 'ichi' men, we're friends, right? And it'd be impolite ta kill a helpless friend. Ja ne, Ikkaku."
Gin turned, surveying the empty street ahead.
"Helpless? Against a silver pipsqueak with the reiatsu of a fourth division kid?" Said Ikkaku. "I'll show you helpless!"
Ignoring the wound in his chest, he swung Hõzukimaru and extended the chain. The nagi blade shot towards Gin's retreating back like an arrow.
Gin rolled his eyes. Gotei Shinigami put way too much stock in reiatsu power. Not that it isn't useful, but it's not the be-all and end-all of a fight...
Gin moved like a ripple on a river. Hõzukimaru brushed the cloth on his shoulder in a clean miss, and in the same second, the white lance of Shinsõ shot back from just under his arm.
The lethal blade struck Ikkaku again, impaling his left shoulder this time. The blood around Ikkaku's kneeling form began to form a frighteningly large pool.
Gin looked back over his shoulder, his slitted eye as terrifying as any demonic visage. "Don't mistake etiquette for mercy," he purred. "I kinda like ya, but if ya attack me again, I'll kill ya without hesitation."
Ikkaku coughed again, then passed out.
Gin regarded his unconscious form for a minute. "A third seat, was he?" He pursed his lips, pulling a strip of cloth from his shihakusõ. "Damn. I sure hope I don't meet any lieutenants."
Gin sat down and began to bandage his slashed arm.
X-X-X
*footnote: Ikkaku's name does in fact start with the kanji "one". Oh and yeah, just so y'all know, I'm aware that "Ichimaru" does not actually have the character "ichi" in it... but the Japanese language being what it is (and by that I mean full of homophones), Ikkaku probably can't actually know this from pronunciation alone, so he'd still say his thing about 'ichi' men.
Bye-bye!