One Moment
Chapter 13: Her Dirty Paws, Part 1
Characters/Pairings: The Eleventh Division, Grimmjow, Starrk, Muramasa, Rukia, Renji, Lilynette, and Yoruichi. Developing Grimmjow/Zaraki/Neliel and Lilynette/Rukia. Yes, you read both right.
Rating: PG-13. This chapter is partly from the POVs of people who shame sailors with their swearing.
Words: 8400
Chapter Summary: Zaraki receives a proposition. Rukia starts figuring out something. Starrk makes an unwise offer that he's going to stick to anyway.
Warning: See the pairing list. Then trust me. I will make you ship them. Also, this chapter is again over 10k words, so I split it into two. The second part will come next week because work has been murdering me.
Claws sliced through the flesh of a shoulder, scraping over the collarbone, nearly deep enough to cut the bone into two.
Kenpachi grinned as he jumped backwards, cracking his neck slightly. The wound tore even more, blood welling up to the surface and staining his haori red, filling the reishi-heavy air with the heavy scent of iron. But Kenpachi revelled in it: there was nothing that sent his blood pumping more than the scent of blood, the surefire sign of a damned good fight.
He pulled off his eyepatch, tossing it at Yachiru without looking. His grin turned even sharper and more bloodthirsty, and he raised his gaze to meet his opponent's.
Grimmjow stood there, slowly licking blood off of his claws. The length of his cat-like tongue lapped over the black tips, spreading red all over the edges of his mouth, staining the skin red. Kenpachi watched the display with narrowed eyes, noticing – not for the first time – how Grimmjow's woman seemed fixated on the sight.
"You don't taste too bad, Shinigami," the Hollow drawled.
Kenpachi scowled. "Stop doing that disgusting shit," he snapped. "Are you going to fight me or fuck your woman over there?"
There was a moment where Grimmjow exchanged a glance with his woman – Neliel, Kenpachi suddenly remembered her name – before Grimmjow's loud cackle echoed in the empty air of the sands around him.
"Fuck," he said, shaking his head. "You fucking Shinigami don't even know what you're missing out on."
Before Kenpachi could even ask him what he was talking about, or to tell him to shut up and carry on with the fighting already, Grimmjow leapt at him, claws extended, grin wide, fangs bloodstained. Kenpachi returned the bloodthirst with his own, raising his sword to block the blow, but Grimmjow's hand was glowing, and Kenpachi barely had the time to dodge the blue blades that were suddenly extending from his opponent's claws.
Avoidance had never really been his style; Kenpachi far preferred to confront everything head-on. So when Grimmjow slashed those elongated claws towards him, he blocked them with his sword, slipping it into the spaces between. He twisted the blade, his yellow reiatsu clashing with Grimmjow's blue. There was just a moment of sharp triumph when the claws broke, but it was short-lived: Kenpachi had to duck as Grimmjow's other hand came for his head.
The top-most bell was cut off. It rolled on the sand, but the soft tinkling sound it made was entirely drowned out by Kenpachi's yell as he attacked, aiming straight for Grimmjow's neck, for the tiny slice of darkness in between the bone plates he could see. Grimmjow laughed, somersaulting backwards. He raised his elbow at Kenpachi, and the Shinigami wondered if he was going to try braining him with the limb for a second before crystals suddenly appeared in front of him.
They exploded right in his face, the heat scorching. But Kenpachi only laughed, his own madness and excitement ringing together with Grimmjow's in the air as desert-dust surrounded him. He swiped his sword impatiently, dissipating the smoke with a burst of reiatsu that smelled like sulphur, before he dove in for the kill again.
"You were holding out on me, Grimmjow!" he yelled as Grimmjow parried the strike with his claws. "You didn't have those tricks last time!"
Grimmjow grinned at him before he snapped his fangs. He would have taken Kenpachi's nose off if he hadn't thrown himself back instinctively, but the skin still split and he felt blood start to course down his face.
"I'm not a one-trick pony like you, Zaraki," the Arrancar taunted, licking blood off his fang. "I have other things up my sleeves than just slashing and cutting."
Kenpachi snorted, rolling his eyes slightly as he blocked another blow from those sharp claws. It wasn't anything he hadn't heard before.
"I've beaten plenty of bastards who had more tricks than you do, and they're dead," he snarled. "I pounded you into the damned ground the last time. What makes you think those things can make any difference, eh?"
Distantly, he heard the sound of female laughter. Just what the fuck had he said that was so damned funny? Kenpachi knew he wasn't stupid, no matter what the other holier-than-thou Captains liked to say, but he honestly was confused this time.
But he didn't have time to think about it, because Grimmjow was grabbing his wrist with his free hand, sinking claws into his flesh. Kenpachi grinned wider at the pain, stabbing his sword forward, overbalancing the Arrancar. His sword finally found its mark on the side of Grimmjow's neck, glancing off the bone armour before it sank into the flesh beneath the plates.
A single flash, and Grimmjow wasn't tangled with him anymore. Instead, he was a distance away, red gathering in the palm of his hand. Kenpachi didn't even bother rolling his eyes, cutting straight through the Cero heading towards him with one slash of his sword as he threw himself forward.
"That Fifth guy gave me more of a fight than you ever had," he commented. His tone would be mild if not for the taunt he didn't bother to hide. "He didn't jump around like some coward; he stood there and fought like a man."
Grimmjow snarled at him. This time, Kenpachi was ready for the barrage of blue crystals that came towards him. He dodged one with a tilt of his head, cutting through the others with one swipe of his sword. The crystals exploded when they touched metal, but the explosions really were too weak to harm him much. Sure, his skin was burnt, but it was only on the surface and so was negligible.
Using the smoke as a sort of disguise, Kenpachi leapt forward. He slammed his hand into Grimmjow's neck, pushing him down onto the sand before he tightened his hold on his sword and sent the chipped blade down as well.
"You're a piss poor fighter when you're in some snit," he said, rolling his eyes. He figured that out the very first time he fought Grimmjow: riling up the other man always ensured some kind of victory.
"What crawls up your ass whenever I mention that Nnoitra guy, eh?"
"Why the hell do you care?" Grimmjow narrowed his eyes.
"Honestly, I don't give a fuck," Kenpachi growled, shoving the Arrancar even deeper into the sand for his damned idiocy. "But I spent half of a fucking day looking for you in the depths of this stupid desert, and I want a better fight than one that I can win if I just mention Nnoitra's name."
Predictably, Grimmjow bared his fangs at him, blood-spotted spittle nearly splattering Kenpachi's face. Returning snarl for snarl, Kenpachi shifted his position, straddling Grimmjow's waist, pinning him down with his entire weight.
"Like now, for instance."
That weird something flashed across Grimmjow's eyes again, but it was gone in seconds and so was irrelevant. The Arrancar arched upwards, trying to throw him off with the strength of his waist and hips, but Kenpachi dug his knees deep into the sand. When the claws came for his face, he grabbed the wildly-swinging wrists, pinning them right above Grimmjow's head.
"I ain't trying to help you," he continued, narrowing his eyes. "I just want a better fight."
"You ain't fooling me, Zaraki," Grimmjow narrowed his eyes. "There must be plenty of people worth fighting back in Soul Society."
Kenpachi rolled his eyes. He moved backwards, grabbing his sword and using its edge to cut a piece of cloth off of his hakama so he could bandage his shoulder. It wouldn't do for sand to get into the wound. "I ain't lying to you," he drawled.
Yachiru hopped over, dropping onto his shoulder. "There aren't many people who want to fight Ken-chan," she chirped, because of course the girl had heard the entire conversation. "And it gets boring to fight Pachinko-ball or Eyebrows all the time."
"Yeah," Kenpachi nodded. "You fight someone long enough, you know all their damned tricks. And Ikkaku and Yumichika aren't the type to hide shit from me; every time I fight 'em, I know what they're capable of, and it ain't much."
In the middle of helping him tie the knot over his shoulder, Yachiru giggled loudly. Was she laughing because she knew something he didn't? … Eh, that wasn't possible. Whatever Yachiru knew, he knew.
"You ain't a part of my Division," he continued. "And you like to fight. You're just boring right now because of some issue you have with this Nnoitra guy, and I don't like boring fights."
Grimmjow stared at him for a moment before he burst out laughing. "Fuck," he said, practically writhing beneath Kenpachi from his chuckles. "Are all Shinigami as fucking nice as you and Kurosaki?"
"Nice?" Kenpachi knew he sounded incredulous, but Grimmjow completely deserved it. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Dragging a hand through his knee-length blue hair, Grimmjow licked one fang before he grinned sharply. "You're going on and on 'bout wanting me get stronger so you can fight me, but you just really want to fight me, don't you?"
He shook his head. "You're all fucked in the head."
Kenpachi paused, considering those words. No matter how much it seemed that he dismissed other people's words offhand without considering them, he only did that to people he didn't respect, and he wasn't shy about admitting that he respected Grimmjow. In terms of raw power, Grimmjow wasn't his match, but he never once hesitated to fight back whenever Kenpachi attacked him.
His blade showed no fear, and for a man who was used to people around him fearing him – Ikkaku and Yumichika did, though their respect and loyalty outweighed the fear, and hell, even Ichigo was afraid of him – that was worth a great deal.
He cocked his head to the side after a moment before he shrugged. "Sure, I want to help you," he shrugged. "Why not?"
Grimmjow stared at him. After a moment, he was laughing again. "Fuck, I can't believe this," he muttered to himself.
But when the Arrancar met his gaze, something like calm settled over the blue. He looked at his claws for a moment before smoke curled out from between the bone plates, and he returned back to his sealed form, his sword stuck to the ground next to his head.
"Neliel," he called, turning to look at his woman. "You want to tell him about those two bastards?"
She had walked over quietly during their conversation, and now she sat down next to them, smiling. "Why not?"
They looked at each other for long moments, having an entire conversation in silence. Kenpachi was just reaching the limit of his patience, tempted to shove his sword into either or both of their heads, when they turned to him as one.
"We'll tell you," Neliel said.
And so they told him. Alright, he might not have understood some of the parts – especially the bits about the courting ritual and a mating bond – but he got the gist: the bastard Nnoitra cheated against an opponent who was stronger than he was, and he got the help of some mad scientist bastard named Szayel who was even worse than that bastard Mayuri.
He was surrounded by fucking bastards, he thought. It was probably fitting: he was one himself, after all.
"Fuck," he said finally, shaking his head. The few remaining bells in his hair tinkled, and he pulled them off irritably, handing them off to Yachiru. He met her eyes then, and found that she was frowning hard.
"When Ken-chan was fighting him," she said slowly. "He tried to attack me. That wasn't nice."
"Eh, most people try to do that," Kenpachi waved a hand. "But cheating… that's some shitty behaviour."
The two Arrancar blinked at them before Neliel shook her head. "Why don't you think that attacking a child isn't a bad thing?"
Kenpachi shrugged, swinging his sword up to his shoulder. "It's not that uncommon in Rukongai, especially in the parts we come from," he said. "People try to kill kids all the time." Whether it was because the kids were eating precious food, or if they just ended up unlucky enough to try to take shelter in a place that belonged to someone else, or which someone else wanted. Kenpachi himself had killed kids, especially for those who obviously didn't have any power. It was honestly kinder to send them off to be reborn into a less shitty life in the Living World than to leave them to struggle in the hells of Zaraki and Kusajishi.
"I know how to fight!" Yachiru waved her small arm, smiling widely. "It's not really that hard to learn!
He grinned slightly; yeah, he could admit to himself that he was damned proud that she could. The very first moment she could walk on her own, he had taught her how to use a stick until he filched another asauchi off a dead Shinigami.
"You know," Grimmjow started, a sly and calculating look in his eyes that had Kenpachi's heckles up immediately. "We would kill and eat our own cubs if we're being attacked by someone who is too strong for us to defeat."
Blinking, Kenpachi cocked his head. "Yeah, that makes sense," he said.
And it really did: if things came down to losing the things he was supposed to be protecting and killing them himself, he would choose the latter at any time. It was a good impetus to get stronger, to survive and to make sure that it never happened again, without letting the chains of grief to weigh him down.
He had felt grief once, long ago, when he was just a kid. Fuck if he was ever going to let himself feel it again.
"Ken-chan once told me that he'd kill me first before he lets anyone else kill me," Yachiru volunteered cheerfully.
Grimmjow barked a laugh, sounding surprised. "You're more like a Hollow than a damned Shinigami, Zaraki," he said, and the respect in his eyes was clearer than ever.
"I don't get the hang-ups 'bout the differences between Hollow and Shinigami," he shrugged. "If you're alive, you're a piece of shit, one way or another. The only difference is whether you can strong enough to fight back when someone tries to kill you for being a piece of shit."
Neliel was looking at him through shadowed eyes.
"Just look at that Nnoitra guy," he said, feeling uncomfortable enough under her gaze to elaborate. "He resorted to cheating just to get rid of someone he has a problem with, and that makes him nothing more than a piece of shit." Though he did give Kenpachi a good fight, the thought that the man he once respected that did something that low made his mouth taste sour.
"I like you," Neliel said abruptly. "You're a really interesting man, Zaraki Kenpachi."
Grimmjow gave her a startled look before he slowly grinned.. "Is it because he reminds you of me?" he cocked an eyebrow.
"Only partly," Neliel said. There was a particular edge to the curve of her smile. "I remember that Zaraki-taichou tried to spare Nnoitra's life after he defeated him, and… you're right, Grimmjow, he is like a Hollow."
Kenpachi blinked. "I have no fucking idea what the hell you two are talking about," he stated flatly.
"You like to fight," Neliel said contemplatively. "You seek fight as mindlessly as any Hollow. And yet, at the same time, you have your own philosophy as to how to live your life, a code of honour of sorts. I find that immensely interesting."
"Hah," Grimmjow said while Kenpachi tried to process what she just said. The Arrancar shrugged. "If it's him, I don't really mind."
"… I still don't know what the hell you're talking about," Kenpachi said, his voice verging on a growl.
Grimmjow smirked at him. "You never had a Beta come on to you before?"
"What's a Beta?"
The two Arrancar exchanged another look again. Kenpachi was getting really tired of them doing that; holding entire conversations in silence that he wasn't privy to, especially when it so obviously was about him.
"I'll correct myself then," Grimmjow said, leaning forward. His smirk was now nearly wide enough to eat his face. "You've never had a woman come on to you before?"
… Oh.
"Yachiru," he said, abruptly turning to the girl who was watching the proceedings with a wide-eyed gaze that showed way too much interest. "Go away."
"But Ken-chan!" she whined immediately. "I know about sex already!"
"I said go away," he growled at her. When she tried to pout, he narrowed his eyes. She knew he meant business when he did that, and she huffed before plucking all the bells from his hair before flouncing a good distance away. The sounds of the bells jingling as she juggled them was annoying, but was much less than the endless interruptions and questions he would have to endure if she stayed.
She was going to be pissed at him for a while about this, but whatever; she would forgive him once he bought her some candy or something.
"You two are sick fucks," he grumbled. "Talking about this in front of a kid."
"It's just mating," Neliel blinked, looking genuinely confused. "You were comfortable enough with letting her watch you kill Nnoitra. How is this worse?"
"It's…" Kenpachi hesitated. She was right, actually: Yachiru had always watched him fight, had watched him kill plenty of times. More than that, she had even had watched plenty of people having sex enough times during in Rukongai to know what it was. Part of the reason why he taught her how to fight was because there were plenty of rapists in Zaraki and Kusajishi, and they usually weren't very discriminatory.
Whatever, it wasn't important. He shrugged. "She'll just be nosy. But anyway, I have something to ask."
He jabbed a finger at the two of them. "Aren't the two of you together? Why don't you have a problem with her wanting to have sex with me?"
Grimmjow burst out laughing. Kenpachi scowled at him, but before he could say something scathing, Neliel reached out and touched his shoulder. "What makes you think that I will be the only one having you if you agree?" she murmured, and that edge in her smile was back. Now he knew what was going on, he knew it was an attempt at seduction.
And damn, it was working pretty well. He looked at Grimmjow for a moment, contemplatively.
Kenpachi liked a fight, but he thought that a good fuck would be like a fight if he was fucking someone who could take him at his worst. He never had anyone like that, of course – not to say he was a virgin, because that was fucking ridiculous when you lived in the worst regions of Rukongai – but he thought that just might be the best thing. Sometimes he would fantasise about that woman Yachiru was named after, and thought that he would want her in every way possible. Sometimes he'd imagine that she would pin him down and carve her name into his skin while he fucked her, and that turned him on more than anything.
He looked at the two Arrancar in front of him. They were just sitting there, waiting for him to make his decision patiently. His reiatsu was still flaring, still as wild as ever, but they didn't seem to have noticed it. And he knew what Grimmjow was capable of; knew that the man could give him a hell of a fight, that he would give him a hell of a fight before the fucking part.
The only thing he was uncertain about was the woman.
Slowly, he smiled, all teeth. "Sure, on one condition."
Neliel cocked her head. "What is it?" she said, still in that deceptively gentle voice.
"I want to fight you first," he said, looking straight into the woman's eyes. "I want to know if you'd be a good fuck, or just a waste of my time."
"Grimmjow is right," Neliel murmured. She stood up, walking a little distance from him. "You really are more like a Hollow than a Shinigami."
She crooked her fingers. "C'mon, then."
Kenpachi looked at Grimmjow. "Don't interfere," he warned.
Grimmjow barked a laugh. "Wouldn't think of it," he said, and there was something hidden in the crooked edges of his smirk. "And let me tell you something, Zaraki."
He leaned forward, his breath brushing over Kenpachi's ear. "She can beat my ass into the ground."
Now Kenpachi knew that his smile was manic, the same smile that had people running for cover immediately. He stood up slowly, brushing sand off of his clothes. Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched Grimmjow head to the rocky outcrops at the sides, and Yachiru join him. But that wasn't important anymore, before Neliel was looking at him, the tips of her fangs peeking over the corner of her mouth.
Oh, he was going to enjoy this. And if that smile, that dangerous and sharp smile, was speaking the truth, he was going to enjoy what came after that too.
Their swords and reiatsu clashed. And Kenpachi laughed.
He knew coming to Hueco Mundo had been a damned good idea. Yachiru would get as much candy as she liked once they went back: she was the one who convinced Starrk and Lilynette to open a Garganta for them to come here, after all.
Starrk leaned against the wall, eyes half-lidding as he panted. His hands twitched at his sides, covered with the blood of the wolves he had just killed.
These were some of the last ones. His sword felt heavy by his side, impregnated by the power, and he knew that Lilynette's had to feel the same. Out of the hundreds of wolves that had been roaming Seireitei, there had to be only ten left, or even lesser.
It wouldn't be very long until everything was over; until parts of himself were no longer running amok and trying to harm everyone around them. The very thought itself made him shiver from the cold despite his hierro and the fur covering his skin, and Starrk sighed, leaning against a wall and dropping down to sit on the ground.
He wanted, more than anything, to go back to the Eighth Division; to return to Shunsui's arms where he knew he could find some kind of warmth. Maybe he could sleep there… he hadn't slept ever since this whole mess begun. Starrk couldn't even remember when he had gone so long without sleep. If he just closed his eyes, he could imagine that he was lying on Shunsui's broad chest instead of the wall, and that the Captain's arms were around him, and everything was warm…
But he knew he couldn't do that. For one, he was sure that Shunsui wasn't at the Eighth Division anymore. For another… before he could even imagine Shunsui, he would see one of the wolves tearing out a defenceless Shinigami's throat the very moment, the sight seared to the back of his eyelids. That really wasn't very conducive to sleeping.
It might be nearly over, but it wasn't over yet.
Sighing, he made to stand when he felt it: an instinct deep within his chest, digging straight in. The air shivered, and Starrk narrowed his eyes, claws curling instinctively when he saw the wall in front of him rip itself apart, exposing an oval of pure darkness. That wasn't a Garganta made by an Arrancar, or even an Adjuchas for the matter. No, this had to be something made by a Menos Grande, or something else entirely.
When the stranger with the long nails and the pale clothes stumbled out of the darkness, Starrk found himself entirely unsurprised. He took a deep breath, catching the unmistakeable stench of Hueco Mundo's sands on the man's skin.
No, it wasn't just Hueco Mundo. It was the smell of Hollows: sickly sweet like rotting fruit, blending with the stinging sharpness of hot sand. The stench lingered on the man's clothes like some kind of bad perfume, mixing badly with the scent of hot steel that all of the zanpaktou carried. That, coupled with the badly-made Garganta… there was only one possible conclusion, but it only created even more questions within Starrk's mind.
The man was on his knees, panting hard. His reiatsu was flickering and wavering, and he didn't even seem to have realised that he wasn't alone. Starrk looked at him for a moment, trying to retrieve the hateful thoughts he once had about him, but it was impossible when Muramasa looked so terribly pathetic.
So he sighed heavily instead, letting the sound herald his approach even as he gripped onto an arm. It felt solid and cold beneath his claws, and he ignored Muramasa's startled gaze before he pulled the man to his feet.
"I'd ask why a zanpaktou is eating Hollows to survive," he said softly. "But I don't think you'll give me an answer."
Muramasa wrenched his arm out of Starrk's grip, stumbling backwards. He bent over, starting to cough immediately. This time, Starrk grabbed his shoulder, pushing him against a nearby tree so he had something to lean on until the fit passed.
This close, the stench of Muramasa's body was even stronger. Starrk breathed through his teeth.
Slowly, he used his other hand to wipe away the tears of blood that was making its way down Muramasa's face. The shoulder he was still holding onto was starting to lose its solidity. Though Starrk didn't know what it meant exactly – he had never heard of a zanpaktou consuming Hollows in any of the stories he had read and listened to – he knew it couldn't be good.
"You're not meant to do something like this," he said, though he was sure Muramasa already knew that. "Will you let me help you?"
Muramasa took a shuddering inhale, mouth falling open as he gaped at Starrk.
"Why…" the sword finally managed to find his voice. "Why would you wish to help me?"
The question was entirely predictable. Starrk shrugged. "I don't like seeing someone hurt, especially when they're right in front of me," he said wryly.
"I'm your enemy," Muramasa snarled, baring his teeth. The Hollow stench grew even stronger. In that moment, Starrk decided that he would try something that was more Shunsui's way than his own: do something first, and ask for forgiveness later.
Gathering power on the tip of his fingers, he used his other hand to grip Muramasa's jaw, forcing his mouth open. He shoved the man even harder against the tree trunk, refusing to let go despite Muramasa's instinctive struggles, and forcefed him the little balls of reiatsu.
Honestly, he didn't know if this would work, if this could stave off the disaster that he could practically feel approaching this man. Maybe the strength he was giving so freely couldn't do much, but he knew he was still an Arrancar, still a Hollow no matter how little he fitted amongst them. If nothing else, his power could help ease the disunity between Muramasa and the Hollows he had devoured.
He watched as Muramasa returned back to solidity beneath his grasp; watched as his power became part of the other man's. Muramasa's reiatsu was steadying, and the Hollow-stench was being overwhelmed by that of heated metal. When he stopped struggling, Starrk let go, stepping back to give him some space to breathe.
"I guess that helped, if only a little," he said carefully. "But I'm not sure how long it will sustain you."
Muramasa was still gaping at him, his hand placed over his chest, right over where a Hollow would have lost his heart.
"If you start feeling unsteady again, if you need more, you can come to me," Starrk offered. "I'll help you."
"You…" Muramasa started. He straightened, swallowing hard. "You actually meant that, Arrancar."
"Of course I do." Starrk cocked his head to the side, blinking. "Why would I say something I don't mean?"
The sword opened his mouth. Closed it. "What are you?" he asked finally.
"Didn't you just say it?" Starrk pointed out, trying to not laugh. "I'm an Arrancar."
"I can't believe that," Muramasa said, barking a bitter laugh. "No Hollow would help someone who is a threat to them, much less offer future help."
Ah, so that was it then. Starrk shook his head, walking over to the wall beside Muramasa before he leaned against it. He would feel insulted about the claims Muramasa was making about Hollows, but they were true. He was an aberration even amongst aberrations.
"You are no threat to me," he said softly. His lips quirked up into a wry smile at the immediate rejection in Muramasa's eyes, and he held up a hand to stop the protests he knew was coming.
"I know what you're going to say. You would insist that you are a threat, because you let loose the wolves from my and Lilynette's swords, and they have caused so much damage, both to us and everyone around us. You would insist that you are a threat, because you have the ability to manifest the zanpaktou spirits and turn them against their masters."
He had been thinking about this for awhile – he needed something to occupy his mind so he wouldn't dwell on the stickiness of blood on his claws, or even the fact that he had claws in the first place. (Claws and fur and fangs, and wasn't he just being thankful that he didn't have any of those.)
Turning his head, he caught Muramasa's gaze in his own as he shook his head. "But a person's abilities didn't make them a threat. Just because you're a weapon didn't mean that you had to be, or that you're nothing else." He had learned that that in the few months in Shunsui's company. "What makes a person dangerous are their actions, and… I don't think yours are."
Muramasa's eyes were narrowing, but he didn't interrupt. So Starrk continued, licking his lips. His mouth was dry; he had been speaking so much lately, and after decades of near-silence, he wasn't used to it.
"You said that you're freeing the zanpaktou from their masters, but if that's the case, then you should've released every zanpaktou; not just the Captains' and the Vice-Captains'." He wasn't particularly sure about that part – he might just not have met the other freed zanpaktou – so he was taking a gamble here. "And if you're really starting a rebellion, then you should be helping the zanpaktou with their battles, but you only arrived at Kuchiki Rukia's battle with her zanpaktou after it was almost over."
Shunsui had told him about what happened with Lilynette and Kuchiki Rukia, and that was the final piece of the puzzle that allowed everything to start clicking together. Muramasa's words at the Hill didn't match up with his actions afterwards.
"All of this is just a smokescreen for what you're truly planning," he concluded, shrugging. "And until I know what that is, you're not a threat to me.
Muramasa blinked very slowly. "You figured all that you even though you should have been busy fighting," he said dryly. "Why haven't the Shinigami killed you for that mind of yours, Arrancar?"
Starrk gave him a wry smirk, "Just because I could be a threat to them didn't mean that I am." There was the fact that he rarely told people that he could peel them apart too, but he severely doubted that Muramasa would reassured by that.
Cocking his head slightly to the side, Muramasa's lips curled into an oily smile. "If they know that you are offering to help me, then you are a threat to them," he said, triumph lacing his tone. He unfurled his fingers until the long nails were barely brushing Starrk's skin. "I doubt that there will be many who have come to the same conclusion as you have."
"There is at least one who will listen if I tell them my reasons for helping you," Starrk said, smiling gently at the thought of Shunsui: the warmth of his skin, the weight of his trust. "And I know that he will do his best to persuade the others as well."
Before Muramasa could think of any other counterarguments, Starrk pushed himself away from the wall. He reached out and wiped away the tears of blood that were leaking from the sword's eyes again, taking note of Muramasa's veiled flinch at the touch.
The empty space where his heart should be ached at the sight. There was such a familiar aching void in Muramasa's eyes, something that had nothing to do with the nature of Hollows and everything with the desperate loneliness that Starrk could sometimes still taste on the tip of his tongue.
"What are you trying to protect?"
Muramasa took a deep breath, his entire body shaking with it. Suddenly, he looked tired and extremely vulnerable before he wiped off the expression with visible effort.
"It will take much more than some power and a few pretty words to make me give away my secrets, Arrancar," he smirked half-heartedly. "But for all that you have said and done, I will tell you one thing."
The sword lifted his head, and his eyes were narrowed as he met Starrk's gaze. "There is a duty that I must fulfil, and I will stop at nothing to do so."
His long nails scraped over Starrk's hierro, crawling from his face down to his neck before stopping right before his Hollow hole, exposed by the open v of his kosode. The weight of his reiatsu was far too weak to make Starrk feel, especially now that his restraints were still lying somewhere on the Sokyouku Hill, but the knowledge of those nails against such a vulnerable spot was nearly enough to make Starrk shiver.
"Even if I must kill you to achieve it."
Now that was familiar. Starrk looked into those dark-ringed eyes, thinking wryly of Aizen and Ichimaru and even Shunsui, of all those men with strongly-held goals that they would do anything to achieve. They were all similar in how they hid their true motivations and selves behind masks and actions, too.
He wondered if there was something wrong about him that he seemed to be drawn to this particular type of people in particular. Was it his lack of purpose that drew him towards men who were so driven? Was it his sharp eyes and bald face that pulled him, like metal towards lodestone, towards those who wore masks that he could see through?
Starrk held onto the wrist, feeling the fragile bones underneath the fur of his claws. He gave Muramasa a crooked smile.
"I expect no less," he said softly.
Muramasa looked startled again. His hand jerked in Starrk's grip, and he let go of him, taking another step back.
"Starrk," he said. "My name isn't 'Arrancar'; it's Coyote Starrk."
"You…" the sword started. He shook his head, giving Starrk one last glance before he turned away. "You might be the best gamble I have ever made, Coyote Starrk."
And with that, he was gone in a flash of shunpo. Starrk could still feel his reiatsu and knew that he could give chase, but he decided to leave things alone for now. Whatever Muramasa had set into motion could not be undone, and he had made it clear enough that he would tolerate no attempts to stop him.
So Starrk would take care of the rest of the wolves, but after that… he would see if Muramasa would take up his offer of aid.
He recognised that aching void in Muramasa's eyes. And perhaps Starrk was a fool, but he had known desperate loneliness for so long that he would do anything he could to stop anyone else from feeling the same way again.
The very first time this had happened, Rukia hadn't been there as a witness. So this… this was definitely worse.
Not only had she to witness with her own eyes as her brother – her trusted, beloved brother – beat Renji to the ground, not only had she to hold onto the pieces of her once-beautiful sword in her hands, she had to do all that knowing perfectly well that Byakuya had broken yet another promise. Even though none of them had ever spoken it out loud, it had been a promise: that Byakuya would never keep any secrets from them, that he would tell them what was happening so they would not be inadvertently hurt by the actions he took without their knowledge or consent.
Now she was helpless again, sitting there, unable to move anymore. Her body was still weak from her fight with Sode no Shirayuki, and all she could do was watch as the various zanpaktou fought against the many Captains and Vice-Captains that had appeared.
Rukia was very sick of only sitting and watching, but there seemed little else that she could do.
She looked around herself, taking deep breaths through gritted teeth to stabilise her vision. Over there, Third Seat Madarame was down, having taken his zanpaktou with him. Just a distance ahead, Captain Soi Fon was taking on two zanpaktou, one of which belonged to Captain Komamura, while the other she didn't recognise. Further away, Vice-Captain Kira was trying to defeat Kazeshini, Vice-Captain Hisagi's zanpaktou. On the other end, Fifth Seat Ayasegawa's reiatsu was flunctuating… or his zanpaktou's was, she really couldn't tell because they felt exactly the same.
Turning to that side, she squinted slightly, trying to look at the battle. But something else distracted her: was that…? No, it couldn't be… it had to be. There was nothing else reported that had that grey fur with streaks of blue lightning coursing through their bodies.
Before she could open her mouth to yell out a warning, they were leaping off of the roof, coming towards her.
SO MANY WEAK ONES HERE!
A FEAST, A FEAST!
MINE! ALL OF THEM ARE MINE!
"Seriously, what the hell are these?" Renji muttered next to her, staring at the wolves. Rukia narrowed her eyes, trying to focus, but her vision was swimming too much and all of them seemed to meld into one another, making it impossible for her to count.
She swallowed. "They're Lilynette's zanpaktou, I think," she said softly. "And Starrk's."
"Isn't Lilynette supposed to be Starrk's zanpaktou, or something like that?" Renji still had the energy to sound incredulous. Rukia hated him a little just for that.
"Clearly not."
"Man, the soutaichou is going to be pissed," Renji said, and Rukia was about to tell him that if he had the energy to think about the future, he had to worry about the present when one of the wolves leapt towards them.
Instinctively, she flinched, raising her broken sword in some attempt to protect herself. Her eyes darted around, looking for green hair and eyepatch-like mask fragment, but Lilynette wasn't here. But… it seemed that Lilynette didn't need to be, because one of the other wolves was attacking that one. Rukia gaped as they tussled with each other on the ground.
MINE. I SAID THEY'RE MINE!
NO, THEY'RE MINE!
They growled at each other, fangs snapping, and Rukia's eyes widened as she spotted one of the wolves getting far too close to Third Seat Madarame.
"Oy!" Was that really her voice? "Oy, someone else's getting your food! Over there!"
She hoped that Madarame was too out of it to take offence at being called food. The two wolves stared at her for a moment before following her pointing finger. They growled in tandem – sounding far more than two – before they ran towards the third, knocking it down just as it was diving for the kill.
Rukia had never heard of the multiple manifestations of a single zanpaktou fighting amongst themselves, but she was too thankful for how easily they could be distracted to even bother with explanations.
Sagging slightly, she leaned against Renji's weight as she let out a sigh. "They're not going to be distracted for long," she murmured. "Either one of them will win, or they'll work together."
Renji snorted, drawing his arm around her a little. "Eh, we're not going to die because of these bastards," he said, sounding way too confident through the exhaustion. "If they come for us, I'll fight them off."
"Isn't Zabimaru already tired?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Even if I don't have Zabimaru, I still have a sword," he shook his head. "And hey, I know how to fight with kido!"
"You know how to fight with kido?" alright, so she still had the energy to sound incredulous. "When did that miracle happen?"
Renji opened his mouth to answer her, but his eyes suddenly widened, and he grabbed her, shoving her behind him. Rukia yelled something incoherent as she went sprawling to the ground, and she stared as Renji held onto his unreleased blade over the open maw of one wolf… another one, because those three were still fighting over Madarame.
She could see that he was already tired, that he couldn't hold on like this for long, so she prepared her own blade, starting to stand shakily. She wasn't going to wait until someone else rescued her from her death; not again, not after the first time.
But as Renji's arms started to shake, she heard a wild cry.
"HiiiiiiiYAAAAAAAH!"
A vision in green and grey swooped down. Rukia stared at Lilynette grabbed onto the wolf's upper jaw with one claw before she tore into the insides of its mouth.
"Duck!" the Arrancar yelled at them, and Rukia did so immediately, yanking Renji down with her as he was still staring in shock. She watched through her hair as Lilynette yanked the howling wolf's head backwards entirely and sliced through its throat, cutting it off mid-howl. Blood arced over the space where her and Renji's head had been, splattering to the ground.
The wolf started to fall to the ground. Before it could even hit, however, it was starting to dissipate, turning into blue light before being sucked into the sword by Lilynette's side. The girl was standing there, panting hard, and Rukia noticed, for the first time, that she had gone to change her clothes. She was less bloody than she was the last time Rukia had seen her, though… though it might just be the fact that her entire arms were covered in fur now, and she stood slightly hunched, as if the knees beneath the new yukata had changed until she couldn't stand straight anymore.
Somehow, the entire look reminded Rukia of some of the pictures she had seen on the front covers of the magazines in Urahara's shop, back in the Living World; the ones that had 'restricted' in large, red font in front.
"Kuchiki!" Lilynette said, not turning around. "You alright?"
Rukia nodded, then realised she wouldn't be able to see it. "Yeah. I'm fine."
"Good," Lilynette said. "Give me a bit to beat down those stupid bastards, then I'll come scold you about being out of bed."
Then she was gone, leaping towards the three wolves surrounding Madarame. Rukia would watch her, but Renji suddenly gripped her by the shoulder, pulling her close.
"Rukia…" Renji said, growl-whispering into her ear. "What the hell is with you and that girl?"
"Huh?" Rukia stared at him, uncomprehending. "Lilynette is a friend." When Renji continued to stare at her with narrowed eyes, she sighed, elaborating, "She spends a lot of time at the Thirteenth with Ukitake-taichou, learning how to read, and we talked a few times when we meet there."
She didn't mention that Lilynette seemed to have been saving her since the first time they met; not only that, she seemed to do it so naturally, without even making any mention of it. Unlike Renji or even Ichigo, she never once said that she was going to rescue Rukia, or save her, or any other rendition of those words. She simply did it, and dismissed it even before Rukia could begin to think about thanking her.
There had been plenty of people who had saved her, but most of them did so in a way she could dismiss as them repaying a debt, or being part of their long friendship. But Lilynette rescued her the first time even before they knew each other, and Rukia couldn't dismiss that, no matter how hard she tried.
"Hah," Renji said, sounding oddly thoughtful.
Shea was about to ask him what he was thinking about – because whatever it was, it was wrong, since this was Renji – but Lilynette bounded over right away. Her arms were covered in more blood, and Rukia noticed that there were no more wolves lurking around Madarame.
"What are you doing out of bed?" she narrowed her eyes. Rukia could have sworn that her ears were pressed flat on her head, like a wolf's…
No, she really could swear she saw it, because the ears were there and real. Right on top of Lilynette's green hair were two wolf-like ears, grey-furred with pink insides, and Rukia knew she was gaping. She swallowed, trying to regain some kind of coherence, something aside from the sheer silliness of what she was about to say.
But all she could manage was a: "… Cute."
"Eh?" Lilynette stared at her.
The sight of that widened red eye, matched with those ears and the face that still resembled a twelve-year-old girl's… Rukia lurched forward, ignoring Renji's arms or his hiss of "oy, Rukia!" before she gripped onto those ears and rubbed them beneath her fingers.
"Oy, Kuchiki, what are you—"
They really felt as soft as they looked, and Rukia rubbed even harder, thumbs sliding across the insides. The fur there felt so silky…
"Ow, that hurts!"
Her hands flew away immediately, and she sank back to her knees, looking around. She hoped that no one had seen what she just did, because being distracted by an ally's cuteness – even though the cuteness was absolutely lethal – was just… embarrassing. (Renji didn't count. She had too much blackmail on him for him to be able to embarrass her with anything.)
There was an apology on the tip of her tongue that died the moment she looked at Lilynette's eyes again. Lilynette was staring at her as if she had never seen anyone like Rukia before. She swallowed visibly.
"Cute…?" she asked, her voice small. "You think that I'm… cute, like this?"
"… Huh?" Rukia wasn't the only one saying this. Renji was far louder than she was; she shoved an elbow into his side.
"I do think you're cute," she nodded. "Especially those ears of yours."
Lilynette looked at her, uncertainty clear, before she raised a hand to her hair. She pulled through a few strands before she jerked and stared at her own hand.
"Even… even my arms and my hands… my claws? Even my feet?"
Rukia looked down.
Ah. She knew what Lilynette was worried about now. She had felt something similar before, when she was first adopted by the Kuchiki: all people saw was the Kuchiki name, and none of them saw her as Rukia, a barely-trained Academy student who graduated far too early.
Even though the situations were different, one thing was clear: Lilynette might look strange right now, but she wasn't a monster; just like Rukia might be a Kuchiki, but she was Rukia as well.
Reaching forward, ignoring Renji's warning glare, she reached out and took Lilynette's wrists into her hands. Slowly, she stroked over the fur.
"You're very cute," she assured, smiling crookedly. "Even though these claws are sharp… they're only used to help me… to help us. So I don't think that you're a monster at all."
Lilynette's smile wobbled, and she ducked her head. Her new mask fragment – Rukia reminded herself to ask her about that – let her hair fall over her eye now. Rukia used to moment to glare at Renji, jerking her head towards Lilynette. Renji stared at her, incredulous, and she frowned even harder until he gave in.
"Yeah," he said, keeping his voice level somehow. He reached out and placed a cautious hand on Lilynette's shoulder. "You're not a monster, because no one who helps us can be one." He paused for a moment. "I think you're weird, though, because Rukia clearly likes you, and anyone whom Rukia likes is clearly a weirdo."
Infuriated, Rukia punched him on the arm. "Shut up, Renji! Just because you don't have the taste to appreciate Chappy…" she hissed.
"I'm telling the truth!" Renji yelped. "And don't hit me when I'm already injured! When you are already injured!"
A small, sharp sound rang out. Rukia blinked, taking a moment to realise that it came from Lilynette, and that it was a giggle. She turned to look at the girl again to find that her shoulders were shaking, though when she looked up, her eye was shining with tears.
"Thank you," she said, looking at Rukia first then Renji. "You two are… very good people, to say that."
They were good people just to not see her as a monster? What kind of people had Lilynette been meeting with, and where could Rukia find them so she could have a stern word with them?
Before Rukia could say anything, Renji interrupted her. His hand squeezed on one small shoulder, shaking Lilynette a little. "Look, the people who don't see you as who you are, but just what you are… they're not worth it," he said firmly. "Trust us on that, alright?"
Ah, right. If Rukia had problems with people seeing her as only 'Kuchiki', then Renji had problems with people only seeing him as a 'Rukongai dog'. Both of them knew far too well what it was like to only be seen as what they were, instead of who they were.
Lilynette wiped her eyes, nodding, and she was about to say something before she stopped, single eye narrowing at a spot above their heads. Rukia turned.
Up there, a Garganta was opening.
What now?