One Moment
Chapter 16: Pack
Characters/Pairings: Ukitake, Grimmjow, Neliel, Ichigo, Shunsui, Rukia, Byakuya, Starrk, Lilynette, Los Lobos, Muramasa, and Katen Kyokotsu. Mentions of Shunsui/Starrk, and hints of Lilynette/Rukia and Grimmjow/Neliel.
Rating: PG
Words: ~8900
Chapter Summary: Things gained and regained.
Notes: I know I'm a whole two days later than my usual updates, and I'm really sorry. My laptop broke down and I had to bring it for repairs. I'm actually posting now from work, of all things.
Jyuushirou ducked.
The red Cero whizzed over his head, its heat crackling the air around him. Without thinking, he leaped into shunpo before he stabbed his unreleased sword straight into the Menos Grande's mask. It roared, white bone cracking under the weight of metal and reiatsu, before it dissipated into air, the souls it contained finally freed to rejoin the circle of life, death and rebirth.
He landed on the ground, catching his breath for a moment before he took down another Menos Grande. Briefly, he wondered what on Earth was going on and why were there so many of these creatures around here in the Living World, but long years of experience told him that, when stumbling into a battle, questions had to come after fighting.
Just as he took down another Menos, he heard Grimmjow's laughter. Turning, he watched as the Arrancar – bloodied and bruised and battered from his victory against his own zanpaktou – swipe his sword around him. For some reason Jyuushirou did not understand, the Menos started backing away from him. They stood in a circle around Grimmjow, a huge ball of red starting to gather between them.
Jyuushirou opened his mouth to call out a warning, but Grimmjow was already baring his teeth in some mockery of a smile. Then he threw his head back.
The sound he made was something Jyuushirou did not think he could find any words to describe. It filled the air like a roar, pierced his ears like a shriek, but it was something so much more visceral, so much more animalistic. It was the sound of a million souls screaming with rage all at once, something that was so inhuman that Jyuushirou couldn't help but shiver from the cold that sank into his skin.
What was that?
His thoughts were interrupted when Grimmjow's endless scream was cut through by another sound. This one was different; something sweet, something almost alluring… but somehow, it felt dangerous as well. Jyuushirou looked around him, eyes wild and widening when he saw Neliel standing beside a huge Garganta, her lips parted. That long, continuous cry was hers, escaping from those lips, and it was…
Once, Jyuushirou had read one of the myths of the Living World, of monstrous women who waited by rocky shores, singing songs that lured sailors to their deaths. Surely the songs the sailors heard were like this one, something that sent claws deep into Jyuushirou's body and turned his nerves into puppet strings. He felt himself jerking, trying to not move even as his limbs strained towards Neliel.
A siren, Jyuushirou recalled the name. She was a siren, drawing all of them here towards death.
The Menos Grande, he noted dully, were moving. They were practically scrambling away from Grimmjow, their black robe-like bodies slapping against Jyuushirou's arms and legs as they practically ran… towards Neliel. Neliel was still making that sound, that thing that was both a song and yet not, as she stepped into the Garganta, near to its mouth. Jyuushirou watched, truly dumbstruck for the first time in long centuries, as she raised a hand and beckoned the Menos towards her.
The sounds simply stopped. The two Arrancars' breathing filled the air left behind. Beside Jyuushirou, Ichigo stumbled, nearly falling forward to his face. Jyuushirou grabbed him by his collar, steadying him. Around them, the Menos Grande wavered at the mouth of the Garganta. They moaned, long and low. When Ichigo gave him a startled, uncertain look, Jyuushirou shook his head – he did not know what was going on either.
It was incredibly disconcerting to think that he had been fighting Hollows for more than a thousand years, and yet there was still so much that he did not know about them.
Neliel's lips parted. She started to cry-sing once more. Grimmjow's shoulders shook with the force of his inhale, and he began to shriek-scream-roar. The sounds dug straight into Jyuushirou's stomach, but this time, he didn't feel the urge to move towards Neliel; didn't feel that strange, animalistic urge to scramble away from Grimmjow, as if the blue-haired Arrancar was a predator swooping down and he was a tiny, defenceless prey.
They were echoing, those voices. There were only two bodies, two throats, but two sounded like many, like hundreds, like millions. Hollows, Jyuushirou recalled distantly, were composed of many, mnay souls once they reached the higher stages of evolution. And, right now, they were all crying-screaming-shrieking-singing.
What for? What for?
Most of the Menos were within the Garganta now. Neliel's body had disappeared deep into the passageway. Her voice continued to ring, echoed, distorted.
Then the Garganta closed. The noises stopped. Jyuushirou's entire body jerked, like a puppet's strings that had been cut. He looked at the few Menos left floundering before the now-closed passageway, and rushed forward in shunpo to cut them out. To his relief, Hirako and Otoribashi seemed to have recovered their bearings quickly enough to react as well. Between the two of them, they took care of the ten or so Menos remaining.
They landed on the ground just in time to hear Grimmjow's heavy sigh.
"Fuck," the Arrancar said. The sound of him popping the bones in his neck cracked the silence into two. He didn't seem to realise that the eyes of every single Shinigami that were on him as he turned and glared at Ichigo.
"Oy, Kurosaki, couldn't you have helped?"
"Helped?" Ichigo sputtered. "How the hell could I have helped?! What the hell were you doing?!"
Trust the boy to say what was on everyone's mind, Jyuushirou thought wryly.
Grimmjow blinked. "Fuck," he said again, shock clear in every inch of his face. "You don't know?"
"Know what?" Ichigo spat out, sounding irritable.
"You really don't know?" Grimmjow asked, and there was a malicious delight creeping into his tone. His eyes scanned the group of Shinigami, landing on particularly on Hirako and Otoribashi. "All of you bastards with Hollows inside you, you have no idea what Neliel and I just did?"
"Why don't you enlighten us?" Hirako asked, smiling. His hand was stroking over the hilt of his sheathed blade.
Grimmjow laughed. "Shit," he said, his shoulders shaking. "You all make for piss-poor imitations of Hollows if you can't do something as basic as that."
Ichigo made a frustrated sound, making to lunge towards the blue-haired Arrancar. Jyuushirou pulled him back by his collar again, pasting a pleasant smile on his face as he stepped forward.
"Forgive us our ignorance, Grimmjow-san," he said, putting in as much sharp steel in his voice as he could manage. "But will you enlighten us about what you just did?"
All of them had been prepared for a battle when they stepped through the senkaimon. Granted, they thought it would be against Muramasa and Kuchiki Kouga, but a battle was a battle, and if they were to fight against Menos Grande, then so be it. Yet Grimmjow and Neliel had tossed away any need to fight just by making a few sounds that Jyuushirou had never heard from any Hollow before.
The sky shivered, ripping into two as Neliel stepped out. She blinked at the sight in front of her – Grimmjow cackling so hard that he was bent over while the Shinigami stared at him with clear irritation on their faces and their hands drifting towards their swords.
"You want to know what we did," she said quietly. Stepping out of the Garganta, she met their eyes squarely.
"Neliel," Ichigo said, looking marginally calmer. "Grimmjow is being a hell of an ass and won't explain, so… will you?"
"You don't deserve to know," Grimmjow cut in before she could answer, still chuckling. "Man, you fuckers have Hollows inside you. If you still don't know after that, then you really don't deserve to be told."
Idly, Neliel reached out and smacked Grimmjow on the back of his head. Ignoring the man's muffled 'ow', she nodded, smiling serenely. "I will tell you," she said.
Jyuushirou tried to not think about how much she reminded him of Unohana at the moment.
"When Hollows evolve from Menos Grande to Adjuchas stage," she began. Her voice was soft, but the silence of the clearing was deep enough that it echoed. "We regain speech and intelligence. At the same time, we gain a new…" she hesitated, as if searching for the right words, "status, as Alpha or Beta.
"Most of the consequences of this change are irrelevant and uninteresting to you," she said, and there were secrets hiding in the small upward curve of her lips. Jyuushirou thought of Starrk and Lilynette, of the glance they exchanged when they discussed Hollows having children, and began to put the pieces together. "But we also differ in our purposes."
She cocked her head to the side. "When we form Packs, we are like prides of lions, to put it to a comparison you can understand. The Alphas protects the territory: for this purpose, they have a roar that chases away all weaker Hollows, including Menos Grande. The Betas hunt down other Hollows for food: so, as a Beta, I have a cry that draws them to me."
"That's what we did," Grimmjow finally chimed in, shoving his hands into his pockets. "It really isn't that hard, you stupid bastards."
"He means that we learned how to utilise those skills instinctively once we reach Adjuchas," Neliel translated for him, shrugging. "It's a little odd that none of you know how to do it, Itsygo."
"Say," Grimmjow interrupted before Ichigo could speak – a good thing too, because the boy looked as if he was on the verge of ranting. "I'm starting to think that your Hollows are basic Hollows. The kind Neliel and I eat as a snack. It'll kind of explain how none of you know shit."
"Perhaps we just don't like speaking to our Hollow selves," Otoribashi said pleasantly. "It's a little difficult, given that they keep trying to take over our bodies and everything."
Jyuushirou stopped paying attention to the conversation – he had watched enough pissing contests to not need to add another to his list. Instead, he looked around, senses searching for Kyouraku and Lilynette. It was a little odd that he had seen none of them during the battle or during Grimmjow and Neliel's display – this was the right place, wasn't it?
He found both of them at once… and Byakuya and Kuchiki too. Jyuushirou didn't hesitate, moving into shunpo immediately, stopping once he reached the immediate range of their reiatsu.
The sight that met him took his breath away.
Kyouraku had Starrk cradled in his lap, his kimono draped over the Arrancar. The look on his face was heartwrenchingly familiar enough that Jyuushirou could not look on it for longer than a single second, and he dragged his eyes away from his friend to his burden.
The Arrancar was convulsing, shivering as if he was trapped in a snowstorm. There was blood on the corner of his lips, blood spreading from the centre of his chest, and he was making sharp, aborted gasp every few seconds. His hands continuously clenched and unclenched at his side. Kyouraku's thumb was wiping away the blood, smearing it all over snow-pale, paper-thin skin. The beloved pink kimono was now stained, utterly ruined.
Beside them, barely an inch away, Kuchiki was holding Lilynette in the same position. Her face was far easier to read: sheer, raw panic. Lilynette had blood pouring down her chin, but here, the source was clearer to see: the girl had bitten her lip entirely through. Her body was jerking in tandem with Starrk, both eyes squeezed tightly shut with tears running down the corners. Blood was spreading outwards from her stomach despite the cloth that Kuchiki's shaking hands was pressed over the wound.
Their Hollow holes, Jyuushirou realised. Their Hollow holes were bleeding.
Byakuya stood close to them, his eyes darting from the gathering of Shinigami and Arrancar a distance away and the scene in front of him.
"What happened?" Jyuushirou hissed at him.
Slowly, Byakuya turned. He let out a breath through his teeth.
"I do not know," he said, the words sounding as if they were forced out of a closed throat. "When Rukia and I arrived at the scene, they were already like this."
"Ukitake…" a voice said. It took Jyuushirou a heartbeat's worth of time to recognise the voice – Kyouraku sounded completely unlike himself.
"I don't know what to do, Ukitake."
A hundred years ago, Kyouraku had come to Jyuushirou's office. He had collapsed on his floor without saying a single word,. It had taken Jyuushirou an hour before Kyouraku had told him, in a voice hollow and empty, that the orders came down that Yadomaru-kun would be executed because she had gone through hollowification.
His friend had exactly the same look on his face now.
There was no torment worse for a man of Kyouraku's position, power, and intelligence than complete and utter helplessness.
Taking a deep breath, Jyuushirou sank down to his knees between Kyouraku and Kuchiki. Aware of Byakuya's eyes on him, he placed a hand on Kuchiki's shoulder, and took Kyouraku's hand in his own, uncaring of the blood that was being smeared over his skin.
"Kyouraku," he tried. "Kuchiki."
Neither of them responded to him. Kyouraku stared at his hand like it was an invading, alien thing.
Jyuushirou frowned. He reached out, grabbing Kyouraku by the collar of his kosode, and pulled him close. At the same time, he let go of Kuchiki, giving Byakuya a glance to tell him to force his sister to respond if he needed to.
"Shunsui," he said, voice cracking sharply in the air like a whip. Kyouraku blinked, his eyes slowly focusing.
"You need to tell me what happened, Shunsui," he said in that same tone. "I can't help you if I don't know what is going on."
There was no answer for a long moment before Kyouraku took a long, shuddering breath.
"Muramasa," Shunsui murmured dully. "He forced himself into them. He invaded their soul." His breath hissed out through his nose. His eyes slid back to stare at Starrk's convulsing form.
Jyuushirou blinked. Was that even possi-… no, this was not the time for that.
"I was too slow to stop him."
Ah.
Grabbing Kyouraku's face with both hands, he shook the man hard until grey-blue eyes turned and focused upon him.
"Stop," he said. "Get up, Kyouraku. You need to get Starrk-san to the Fourth."
"The…. Fourth?" the small, halting voice came from behind him. Jyuushirou turned to meet Kuchiki's wide eyes. "Will… will Unohana-taichou be able to help Lilynette?"
As if she heard the sound of her own name, Lilynette arched up hard, gasping, half-choking on her own blood. Kuchiki stared at her, horror in her eyes, and it was Byakuya who gripped the Arrancar by the shoulder, forcing her to sit up and slamming a fist into her back to stop her from drowning in her own blood.
"What can Retsu-senpai do?" Kyouraku laughed, dark and bitter.
Jyuushirou narrowed his eyes. Slowly, he let go of his friend. This, he decided, required drastic action.
He punched Kyouraku right across the face.
The fist connected with an audible crack, bone against bone, barely muffled by the layers of skin and flesh. Kyouraku's head snapped backwards. In his lap, Starrk continued to gasp, and bleed.
"You can stay here," Jyuushirou said, low and calm. "You can stay here and do nothing. Or you can take a chance and bring him to the Fourth."
Kyouraku stared at him, eyes wide. But his gaze was focused. His hand was crawling upwards to touch at the bruise forming on his cheek.
Distantly, Jyuushirou was aware of two pairs of eyes fixed upon him. He ignored them.
"Unohana-taichou healed Neliel. She has some idea of how to heal an Arrancar. If nothing else, she is the best healer of all three worlds."
He reached out, taking Kyouraku's hand before those calloused fingertips could touch skin. Folding those fingers, he rubbed the knuckles gently.
"There is still something you can do, Shunsui."
Kyouraku drew in a breath. It still sounded hollow and empty, like his lungs had vanished into nothing, but there was light in his eyes. He glanced at Starrk for a moment before looking back up to meet Jyuushirou's gaze.
"… Alright."
The reaction wasn't what he had hoped for. But then again, he supposed it was better than nothing.
Jyuushirou nodded. He turned to look at Kuchiki, who was staring at him with wild, shocked eyes. But she was looking at him, at least – he suspected that Byakuya's hand on her shoulder had much to do with it.
"Will you help bring Lilynette-chan to the Fourth, Kuchiki?"
"I…" Kuchiki started. Her eyes flickered down to Lilynette, and her touch was gentle as she used a corner of her ripped sleeve to wipe the tears away from those squeezed-shut eyes.
"Lilynette should go to the Fourth," Kuchiki said calmly. "But I can't help to bring her there, Ukitake-taichou. She is too heavy for me to carry like this."
The tone of her voice was a variation of what she had sounded like right after Kaien had died by her blade. Jyuushirou hid a wince.
Byakuya was staring at his sister. His eyes, as always, were veiled, but not enough to avoid Jyuushirou's gaze: this couldn't be. Jyuushirou wanted to shout a him, to shake him, to tell him to stop thinking about the implications of Kuchiki's presence by Lilynette's side right now and to focus on the situation at hand.
He knew, however, that those very thoughts were already in Byakuya's head. So Jyuushirou simply waited, his hand tightening on Kyouraku's fingers to stop him from moving.
"I will carry her, Rukia," Byakuya said eventually. "And you will come with us."
Kuchiki's eyes snapped towards her brother. After a long moment, the fog finally cleared.
She nodded. "Thank you, nii-sama."
Slowly, she stroked her fingers through Lilynette's hair again. The two siblings exchanged a glance before Byakuya slid his arms below the unconscious Arrancar's body, lifting her up and standing.
Beside him, Kyouraku had already stood. Starrk laid limp in his arms. Jyuushirou did not miss the tightness of his friend's grip, knuckles white as if he was afraid that Starrk would die, or vanish entirely, the moment he let go.
"I'll stay here and make sure that Grimmjow-san and Ichigo don't kill each other," Jyuushirou said softly. He wasn't sure if any of them heard him – their silence was a heavy, weighted thing.
Waving a hand, he opened a senkaimon that would drop them off right in front of the Fourth Division.
Byakuya strode in immediately. Kuchiki was standing by his side, matching him step by step. Her hand, Jyuushirou noticed, was clenched, trembling, around a corner of Lilynette's yukata.
"Ukitake," Kyouraku said just as he was about to turn away.
Jyuushirou stopped in his tracks. He did not turn around.
"Thank me by making sure that Starrk-san and Lilynette-chan are well, Kyouraku," he said softly, letting his smile seep into his voice. "They are important to me as well."
The sound of the senkaimon's doors closing was his only reply.
A month or so ago, right when winter was turning to spring, Shunsui had shown him a curious contraption. The Captain had told him that it was a camera, but it was large and bulky, completely unlike the tiny, fly-like creatures that Aizen had once used to keep an eye on his soldiers in Las Noches.
That wasn't the only difference: the images that Shunsui's contraption had captured were all black and white. Colours were exorcised the moment the shutter was pressed, until nothing remained except stark monochrome. At the time, Starrk had stared at the pictures developed, his heart aching strangely at the sight of Shunsui's face so flat and colourless.
Not even Hueco Mundo had been so devoid of colour. The light of the moon swept all brightness away, but Starrk's skin didn't look as grey as it did here.
'Here' was a world where everything was black and white and grey. Starrk slowly sat up, staring at his hand over his chest where Muramasa's blade had sunk in.
But there was no wound.
He brushed his hand over the ground. The white grains shifted beneath his fingertips, sending up small clouds of grey dust before settling back down in the still air.
Looking forward, he noticed the bare trees in the distance. Their black branches reached out towards the grey skies that were dotted with some drifting blobs that Starrk supposed were clouds.
"Starrk?"
Somehow, he wasn't at all surprised to hear Lilynette's voice. He turned towards her, and his heart stuttered, missing a beat. She was as tall as her resurreccion form, her mask fragment the collar of bone around her neck. But her eyes… they were a brilliant red, like a splash of blood, and her hair was a dark, verdant green.
Colour that blossomed beneath her feet. With every step she took towards him, the white sands turned a faded yellow, and the trees she passed as she half-stumbled towards him changed from stark black to a slightly lighter brown. Now, instead of a photograph from a black-and-white camera, the world resembled more of a painted piece of cloth that had been washed too many times, its colour leeched out.
"Where are we, Starrk?" Lilynette asked. "The last time I remembered was Muramasa stabbing me… us… What happened?"
Instead of answering her, he reached out, his fingers brushing over her hair. The moment he touched her, colour seeped back into the fur on his arms, darkening until he could see the shadows of the strands despite the grey light surrounded them. He blinked, watching with Lilynette as the colour reached the skin of his upper arm. Corpse-like grey bled away, revealing the healthy tan beneath.
"The Shinigami all have an inner world," Starrk said finally, his voice soft. "I think… this might be ours."
"An inner world?" Lilynette frowned. She took his arm, pulling it close as she ran her clawed fingertips over the now-coloured skin.
Looking up, she gave him a crooked grin. "Does this mean that I bring colour to your world?"
"You do," Starrk returned a smile. "In the most literal way possible."
She snorted. "Yeah, I can see that," she said, turning from him to look around.
Starting from her feet, the sand beneath them was gaining colour, spreading outwards. It reached the horizon, and Starrk watched as the colour bled even into the skies, turning the grey into something that reminded him of the colour of snow in bright sunlight: almost blue, if he squinted a little and tilted his head.
"Why are we here?" he asked.
Before Lilynette could reply, the air was filled with the sound of howls. Starrk turned, pulling Lilynette closer to his side. A pack of wolves ran towards them, their paws kicking up sand. They were coloured a faded blue, but their eyes were like Lilynette's: a shade of red that was entirely too much like blood.
The wolves surrounded them, circling them. Slowly, they began to disappear, sinking into the sands until only the largest two remained. They were bigger than any of the wolves Starrk had fought in the past two days. He couldn't feel reiatsu here, not in this strange world, but he suspected that they were the strongest out of all of them.
"You're here because I brought you here."
It wasn't the wolves who spoke. Muramasa was suddenly there, crouched over a rock. At least, Starrk thought it was Muramasa: the voice was the same, but instead of a man, there was only a blob of grey that was half-melted into the faded desert scene.
The two wolves growled, turning as one to bare their teeth towards Muramasa. Instinctively, he reached out, gripping a handful of blue fur and stopping the wolf from leaping towards the shadowy grey blob. Beside him, Lilynette did the same thing to the other.
HE'S AN INTRUDER, the wolf underneath Starrk's hand snarled. HE TRIED TO HURT YOU. WE WILL DESTROY HIM.
Starrk blinked. After all the fighting he had done, the last thing he had expected was for the wolves to want to protect them.
"You…" he started, swallowing. "Why are you defending me?"
The wolf turned, red eyes glowing with malice as they landed on Starrk.
ONLY WE ARE ALLOWED TO HARM YOU, it said. IT IS OUR RIGHT.
Despite its echoing voice, sounding both male and female, despite the fact that there was nothing in its body to indicate any form of sex, Starrk knew that this wolf was female.
HE SHOULD NOT BE HERE, the wolf held back by Lilynette snarled. THIS PLACE IS OURS, LIKE BOTH OF YOU ARE OURS.
That one… though it was slightly smaller than Starrk's and its voice sounded the same, he was suddenly, absolutely sure that it was male.
"Oy, we don't belong to anyone!" Lilynette protested, sounding irate. "Who are you anyway?"
YOU DEFEATED US, the male wolf said.
YOU KNOW OUR NAME, the female wolf said.
"You are Los Lobos," Starrk murmured.
YES, the two wolves said together, the sound of their voices filling the air completely. YOU ARE PACK. THIS IS YOUR TERRITORY, SO IT IS OURS. WE WILL DEFEND YOUR TERRITORY. WE WILL DESTROY ALL INTRUDERS.
The female wolf strained in his grip. Starrk held on even tighter, sending an apologetic glance to the shadowy blob that was Muramasa before turning his full attention to the- his wolves.
"This is a hell of a change," Lilynette said, sounding incredulous. "Weren't you trying to kill us just now?"
YOU DEFEATED US, the male wolf repeated. YOU EARNED YOUR PLACE IN THE PACK.
ALPHA, the female wolf said, looking at the two of them. BETA.
WE ARE YOURS. YOU ARE OURS, both of them said together. WE DO NOT SHARE.
Lilynette looked like her head hurt. Starrk could fully empathise.
"I still don't understand," he told them. "I have never heard anything about Arrancar zanpaktou before. I don't know anything about you."
"And you just don't make sense!" Lilynette cried, sounding more irritated than ever. "Why were there so many of you that came out from our swords anyway? Grimmjow only has one! Where did you two come from? We have never met you before!"
The two wolves growled together. It sounded oddly like a sigh.
WE HAVE ALWAYS BEEN HERE, the male wolf said, his echoing voice sounding impatient. WE HAVE BEEN WAITING.
WHEN YOUR MASK WAS BROKEN, WE WERE THERE. YOU CALLED UPON US, BUT YOU DID NOT RECOGNISE US, the female wolf said.
YOU THOUGHT SHE WAS YOUR ZANPAKTOU, her eyes glared at Starrk. BUT YOU WERE WRONG.
WHEN YOUR MASK WAS BROKEN, WE WERE THERE, the male wolf said. BUT YOU DID NOT DEFEAT US PROPERLY. YOU ATE US WITHOUT KNOWING US. YOUR POWER FORCED US TO GIVE YOU OUR NAME, BUT WE WERE ASLEEP.
NOW YOU HAVE DEFEATED US, the female wolf concluded. NOW YOU ARE PACK. NOW YOU ARE ALPHA. NOW YOU ARE BETA.
Somehow, Starrk thought that they didn't mean those terms like how the other Hollows would mean it. His head was throbbing. How was it even possible to get a headache when he was supposed to be in his own head?
The wolves growled again, straining towards Muramasa.
"If we are Alpha and Beta," he said. "Then we order you to not attack that man."
WHY, the wolves growled in tandem. The word wasn't a question, but a demand.
"We wouldn't have defeated you properly if he hadn't brought you out," Starrk said, trying to make them see sense. If they were truly part of him and Lilynette, then they should have some form of logic. At least, he hoped they did. "You owe your current forms to him."
Given how the wolves immediately snarled, they didn't seem to agree.
"We are only Pack because he woke you up," Lilynette chimed in. She seemed to have decided that it was completely inefficient to pull on the male wolf, because she vaulted over the creature's body to sit on him. "If not for him, you still would have been asleep."
There was silence as the wolves considered their words.
BUT HE IS AN INTRUDER, the male wolf said, sounding almost petulant. HE SHOULD NOT BE HERE.
"Then let him explain why he is here," Starrk said, turning his gaze finally to Muramasa.
The grey blob shuddered for a moment before it stepped down from the rock. Starrk decided to follow Lilynette and sat on the female wolf to stop her from lunging at him.
"You told me that I was free to do what I wish," Muramasa said. Starrk wished he could see his face, because he couldn't recognise the tone of his voice. "You told me to seek my happiness."
"Yes," Starrk said. "We did."
"I saw the path of my happiness, and it led to the two of you."
"Eh?" It wasn't the most eloquent of replies, perhaps, but Starrk frankly could not think of anything else to say.
"I have caused you pain," Muramasa said. "I have hurt you."
Exchanging a glance with Lilynette, Starrk shrugged. That was true, but, honestly, Muramasa wasn't nearly as much of a villain as he was making himself out to be. He hadn't dealt them new wounds; he had merely reopened old ones. When compared with all else they had gone through, it was truly nothing.
"Despite all that I have done, despite my actions having threatened those you care for," Muramasa continued, "You still reached out your hand to help me."
The grey blob shuddered again.
"Even now, when I have invaded your world, you defend me."
Wonder, Starrk suddenly realised. That was the tone in Muramasa's voice that he previously could not identify. The man sounded as if he could barely believe what he was saying himself.
"Uh," Lilynette said. She scratched the side of her head. "You're making way too big of a deal about everything, seriously."
There was a stunned sort of silence from the grey blob. Lilynette sighed.
"Sure, you lied, you manipulated people, and you got into their heads and pretty much made them fight against pretty much themselves..." She shrugged. "But unlike most of the people we know who do all those things, you had a pretty good reason for it."
"… I don't understand," Muramasa said uncertainly.
"What Lilynette is trying to say is," Starrk interrupted, "We understand very well the depths of desperation loneliness can make a person sink to. We know how much it hurts to try to reach out to someone and yet be seen only as a tool."
"And we know what it's like to be so desperate to have someone who acknowledge us that we're okay with being treated like shit," Lilynette added, snorting. "Don't deny it, Starrk. Aizen treated us like shit."
"I wasn't going to," Starrk protested. He blinked at his other half's startled glance at him. Was it really that surprising?
… Ah, it was. When had he stopped making excuses for Aizen's behaviour? When had he stopped blaming himself?
He remembered the warmth of Shunsui's arms, the beauty of his words, and even the weight of his hand on his shoulder. Starrk ducked his head, pushing those thoughts away. This wasn't the time now; he had to focus so that he could get out of his own head back into the real world.
Shunsui must be worried by now.
"Anyway," he continued hurriedly. "Nothing we have done is special in any way, so… I don't understand why you have decided that your path to freedom is here."
"Nothing special," Muramasa repeated. There was a weighted pause before he chuckled, the sound raspingly strange. "You have looked into my heart, and you have understood me. You have acknowledged me."
His voice changed, turning wistful. "No one has ever done that. Not even…"
"Not even Kouga, but then he was an asshole and treated you like shit," Lilynette helpfully finished for him.
Starrk reached over, carefully making sure that the wolf underneath him didn't have room to move, and smacked the back of her head.
"Ow!"
"Will the two of you treat me better, then?" Muramasa asked, interrupting Lilynette before she could protest further.
"If I pursue this path of freedom, I will stand by your side, but I will no longer be Muramasa," he told them. "As your sword, I will be reshaped entirely."
Was that even possible? But then again, Muramasa was… here, in his inner world. He was offering to become their zanpaktou, becoming their second zanpaktou. Surely if he hadn't thought it possible, then he wouldn't have stabbed them in the first place.
"What will you become?" Starrk asked softly instead.
Muramasa hesitated. "I do not know," he said finally. "So you must tell me: will you still look at me the same way, no matter what I become? Will you still allow me to stand by your side?"
Catching Lilynette's gaze, Starrk saw his understanding of the situation mirrored in her red eyes. Still, it was so incredibly strange: for a man who seemed utterly confident, Muramasa was looking for reassurance from the two of them.
"You know," Lilynette began haltingly. "Starrk and I… we weren't always Starrk and Lilynette. Even if your name is no longer Muramasa, even if your appearance change, or your powers, or anything else…"
She took a deep breath. "As long as you remember your past, we will still understand you. We will still look at you the same way."
Starrk stared at her. Did… did Lilynette just imply that she had memories of their human lives? If she did, then why hadn't she told him? How many secrets had she been keeping from him?
He shook his head hard, making a mental note to talk to her about this later.
"No matter what you become," he told Muramasa, "We will accept you."
The blob of grey shivered.
NO, the wolves beneath their bodies growled together, trying to buck them off. NO, WE CANNOT ALLOW THIS. YOU ARE PACK. HE IS AN INTRUDER. WE WILL DESTROY HIM.
Starrk dug his heels into the dirt beneath his feet, crouching over the huge creature and holding it down. Lilynette fisted her hands on top of the grey wolf's head, shoving it to the floor.
"He is no longer an intruder," Starrk said firmly. "He will be Pack. He will be part of us."
NO, the wolves said again, struggling against their grips.
"We say he is now Pack," Lilynette added. "You two said we defeated you, so listen to us already, dammit!"
Turning his eyes up, Starrk stared straight into the grey blob. "We will accept you, no matter what you become," he insisted. "So come!"
No form appeared from the shadows; the grey did not change into hands. But there were a matched pair of swords suddenly, the blades gleaming in the dull light.
This time, when Muramasa sank a wakizashi into his body and a katana into Lilynette's, Starrk wasn't surprised at all.
Even though he had accepted this; even though he meant every word he said to Muramasa, Starrk couldn't help but start to scream as the pain ripped through his entire body.
His soul was being pulled apart, piece by piece.
Lilynette was lying on the bed, silent and still in a way she had never been when awake. The chair beside her was empty – Rukia-chan had left but moments ago, forcibly dragged away by the combined might of Abarai and her brother for a shower and some rest.
Shunsui tore his eyes away from her, focusing on the form on the bed.
Starrk's chest moved slowly up and down, taking breaths not even Retsu-senpai was sure he needed. His entire body was still aside from it; those inhales and exhales were so shallow that they did not even make his nostrils flare. On his chest, exposed by the thin white patient's yukata, his Hollow hole was covered by a layer of rough, scaley skin. Like a scab.
On top of the nightstand rested the pair of wrist restraints that one of the Fourth Division members had picked up from Sokyouku Hill. Resting against it, looking perfectly innocuous, was Starrk's katana… and his wakizashi.
The shorter sword had a different hilt design than its partner. Instead of the flames and teeth, it resembled the rays of a sun, spreading outwards from where the handle met the hilt. Shunsui reached out to touch it. The sound of his nail clicking against metal echoed throughout the empty room, drowning out the soft inhale-exhale of Starrk's breathing.
Fingers glided down the scabbard, over the wood, and drifted over the sheets. Slowly, ever so slowly, Shunsui allowed his nails to lightly brush over Starrk's arms. The fur had disappeared a few hours ago, fading into soft blue light. The fangs followed them. Now the man lying on the bed seemed nothing more than a man; one with a curious bone necklace encircling his neck and a new-healed wound on his chest.
"You're pathetic."
Shunsui didn't turn around. He knew that voice, and though he had seen her in this form before only once, he had no wish to turn.
In the deep forests of his mind, full of shadows and strange, secretive cries, she had appeared to him as a nue: a skinless skull full of teeth joined to the torso of a tiger with parts of the flesh ripped out to reveal the bones beneath, and a tail like a snake's. Not once had he ever heard her voice unvarnished like this, for whenever she spoke, the winds would come, distorting the sound. Whenever she spoke, petals and leaves would fall from the endless trees of the forest, dancing around her feet like children playing tag.
He knew he wasn't the only one shocked by the humanoid appearance of his zanpaktou when manifested through Muramasa's power. Ukitake's sword spirit had always been a pair of melusine – beautiful, androgynous men with long serpent-like tails – with lightning for teeth and waves constantly playing between their scales, but they appeared in this world as two twin boys who wanted nothing but to play.
His friend had so much more trouble accepting his zanpaktou's new forms than he had.
"I miss the way the wind blows whenever you speak," he said softly, contemplatively. "I miss the way I had to strain to hear your words, as if you are always playing a game, always testing to me if I still deserve your power."
Turning his head, he met the two eyes of the two forms of his zanpaktou. It was still strange to see turquoise eyes when he had only met empty eye sockets for a thousand years.
"If this is your true form, why have you hidden it from me for so long?"
The taller half of his sword glided forward. Her kimono swayed around her ankles. He had to strain to hear the thud-thud of her zori as she moved. She looked, he thought wryly, like an exotically-dressed geisha. All she required was a shamisen slung across her back.
Her fingers were cold when she brushed them over his face. Cold and rough with invisible scales, like a snake's skin.
"Are you displeased with our current appearance?" she asked, mockery tainting every single word. "Did you not dream that we would look like this once, when you were a boy and first heard a woman's voice in your mind?"
He tipped his head up, practically nuzzling her fingers.
"Once," he murmured. "But not for a long time, for I have learned throughout the years that you are truly the most beautiful creature in the world."
Her laughter sounded like the howling wind.
"You thought me a monster," she said. Her grip tightened on his chin, pulling him even closer. Behind her, the shorter half of his sword slid forward until she was standing in front of him. Shunsui met her gaze as she sank down to her knees, her hand flattening over his chest, right over his heart.
"We could hear your thoughts even then," the taller half said. She gave him a smile that was both familiar and strange: a grin that bared all teeth, but with lips framing them. "You thought us to be monstrous."
"Well," Shunsui smiled crookedly. "You can't blame a boy for his immediate reaction."
The taller half laughed again. She was, Shunsui decided, Kyokotsu – the wild bones, the sneering and raging demon wind. The shorter half, the mute half, was Katen – the roaring goddess of flowers who seemed innocuous but whose fury and deadliness was multiplied by her silence.
"You have such a silver tongue," she murmured. Her fingers drifted upwards, scraping over his stubble to dig into his hair. "Such a clever mind. You are right, Shunsui – I am Kyokotsu, and she is Katen. A demon mocks while she kills; a flower's petal is silent even as her poison seeps deep into your veins."
Her snake-fingers gripped his hair, pulling his face upwards to stare into her single turquoise eye. She leaned in, so close that he could feel the chill of her breath on his skin; so close that all he could see was the white of the bone on her head.
"Yet now you curse that silver tongue of yours. You curse your own mind. You curse even us, your dearest tools," she said, breath caressing the curve of his ear. "You curse all that you are, for none could heal this gaping wound in your heart in the shape of a man now lying on this bed."
Katen stood up. With a flick of a hand, she summoned the scimitar-like wakizashi that both was and was not herself, and pointed its sharp tip straight at Starrk's scabbed-over Hollow hole, over the place that was his heart.
Shunsui did not move. He knew his sword well; knew that she loved best the most dangerous of games. If he did not know for a fact that he had loved alcohol ever since his youth, he would have thought that it was his sword that drove him to drink.
Hurting him and mocking him had always been her favourite game; she liked to twist him around her fingers, like a child with its string, playing a game of cat's cradle.
There were more than one reason why he was glad that he didn't have to fight against her; that Muramasa's spell had broken the very moment that he thrust his sword into Starrk and Lilynette's bodies. Not only would his bankai have made every single person in Seireitei fear him, his sword had always enjoyed the look of pain on his face.
Once, she told him that it was such a rare thing that it thrilled her to see it.
So instead of grabbing onto Katen, he reached out and cupped Kyokotsu's cheeks with both hands. He pushed her away from him until he could look into her single eye, and the smile he gave her was full of shadows.
"Sweet my sword is, to wish to rid me of pain," he murmured. Shunsui had always reserved the most poetic form of his language for his sword. It was only fitting, for she spoke to him in poetry as well. "But if that blade, you and her and me all, sinks into his heart, mine will become a ragged thing, unworthy for your abode."
Kyokotsu raised an eyebrow. "Surely you are not such a fool to believe that we live in your heart."
"Do you not?" Shunsui countered, raising a brow of his own. "Surely it is not merely my mind you see. Do this clear, bright eye not realise that my heart had carved itself open to fit you within, and the wound is so old that it can never be filled again?"
Katen's shoulders shook. Spring flowers appeared near her feet. Kyokotsu smiled, a sweeter thing than what she had given him last, and she backed away, folding her hands in front of her as she gazed at him.
"You forsake us, silver-tongued creature," she sniffed. "An abode we might have in your heart, but it is surely smaller than the space that houses this man."
Shunsui smiled. Ah, finally: his sword always had such a terrible habit of talking in circles, and it had always taken him a long while to prod her towards the reason for her anger.
She was jealous. Both of them were.
"My sword's blades are dark, and she chose to play her favourite shadow game," he said lightly. "She might call my tongue silver, but it has no light strong enough to pierce through the shadows."
"Of all things to plea," Kyokotsu drawled, "You have chosen disability?"
"Is it so difficult to believe?" he shrugged. "You have been with me for long years, my goddess of bones, my goddess of flowers. I am not free; the years I have spent as Captain have made roots grow around my feet, pinning me to the ground."
Katen shook her head. She slid backwards, moving like a shadow, or a floating flower petal, until she stood behind Kyokotsu.
The speaking half of his sword was not as subtle with her disapproval. She snorted, curls dancing around her cheeks on the rhythm of the wind blowing in from the open window.
"Those roots you tore off the very moment he requires your aid," she accused.
"Only because he has lit up a path for me to tread with his plan," he countered immediately. "You know full well that I dislike the shadows."
Whenever he walked in the shadows, he feared losing himself. There was nothing inside that endless darkness: neither light nor sound nor anything that he could feel beneath his calloused fingertips. Often, he had thought that if he stayed long enough, he would forget what it was like to be see, to hear, to feel: to be human.
Kyokotsu stepped forward again. She stroked the back of his hand over his neck, resting over the beating of his pulse.
"You could have been a demon," she murmured." We could have the world as our playground. There is no light without shadow; no form without height; no creature without colour. There would be no one who could ever deny playing our games."
Her grip tightened. Skin-scales pressed deep into Shunsui's throat, constricting his windpipe. Shunsui did not move, simply waited.
Eventually, she sighed, leaning back again. "Yet you still play the fool, piling on weaknesses aplenty."
He hummed softly under his breath, reaching out and grasping her wrist. She let him, and he stroked his thumb over the seemingly-fragile bones under the thin, rough skin.
"Is it truly weakness?" he asked. "Was Urashima Tarou weak to have wished to return to his hometown despite Otohime's beauty and the pleasures of Ryogujou? Was it not his return, was it not his fall, that made him such a legend?"
Kyokotsu snorted. "You choose to model yourself after a man who died of old age? A man like you, who has lived for a thousand years?"
"Perhaps I have misspoken," Shunsui admitted easily, chuckling. "You think it weakness, my dear swords, but I see it differently: it is better named 'humanity'. The wonders of Ryogujou could not erase a man's ache for home and the sweetness of eyes sliding past him, acknowledging him as one of them instead of an unknown stranger or a guest."
He reached out, brushing his fingers over one of Kyokotsu's curls. "The shadows are too dark and power too cold to ever tempt me."
"The colours are bright," she replied, grabbing hold of his hand.
"They scorch my eyes."
"The view is the most beautiful from the greatest of heights."
"It is lonely all the way up there, where people seem like ants and my voice cannot reach them."
Kyokotsu rolled her eyes. "Speaking to you is naught but a waste of breath," she huffed, turning away from him. "You will never change your ways."
"You do not want me to," Shunsui countered. "You enjoy this game of words too much. If you win, then there is only boredom ahead of you."
"Hmph," she scowled, not bothering to deny that statement for both of them knew he was right. No – all three of them knew, for he could see the barest curve of a smile beneath Katen's mask.
But his wakizashi was turning towards Starrk, still lying unconscious on the bed. Her one visible eyebrow disappeared into her hair.
"It is not his Hollow nature that draws me to him," Shunsui answered the unspoken question.
His lips curled up into a wry smile. "His power is great enough for him to stand atop the world, yet he does not kill even in the midst of a war. He has strength enough to colour all with his reiatsu, yet he looks at his restraints like they are gifts. He can plunge the skies into shadows, yet he marvels at the sight of light."
Katen's shoulders shook, and Kyokotsu rolled her eyes.
"So the space you made for him in your heart is simply the one you made for yourself," she drawled, looking completely unimpressed. "You are a complete narcissist."
Shunsui shrugged. "You have known that about me long ago," he said wryly.
Katen shook her head.
"You would have been bored of him already if he is only like you," Kyokotsu snorted, flicking a lock out hair out of her face. "No, master dearest, you believe you love for you can look at him and see distorted pieces of yourself in his eyes, and the shapes are so interesting that you think you will never be able to know them all."
Shunsui tugged his straw hat down, hiding his grin beneath its shadow. Despite her claim that she could read his mind, his heart had always been a strange thing to his sword, and it was truly fun to make her guess.
Especially since not even he knew the answers to the questions he asked.
"And how do you see the care I give him, freely and asking for naught in return?"
His two swords stared at him, one with a blank gaze and the other with barely-concealed irritation. After a moment, Katen turned on her heel, heading towards the door.
"You bore me," Kyokotsu declared, following her counterpart. The heavy silk of her kimono swept over the ground. "We shall leave to find greater entertainment than a static creature who does not know how to win the game he chooses to play."
The winds picked up, slamming the door shut the very moment Kyokotsu stepped over the threshold. Shunsui stared after the two of them, tipping up his hat now that he had no need to hide his smile – his swords had such a flair for the dramatics. He also carefully did not think about how he had won this particular bout; Kyokotsu said she could read his mind, after all.
Still, the conversation had lifted his spirits. That was likely Katen Kyokotsu's purpose, her care and worry hidden beneath layers of mockery and false anger.
Out of all the games she played, kage-oni had always been her favourite.
"Were they your swords, Shunsui?" a voice broke through his thoughts, raspy and hoarse. Shunsui whirled around.
Starrk looked at him through half-lidded eyes, and he was smiling very slightly.
"She suits you."
Standing up, Shunsui leaned over the bed, casting his shadow over Starrk's face to block out the light of the sun streaming in through the windows.
"She does," he nodded. Gently, as if he was touching the most fragile of porcelain, he brushed his fingertips over the sides of Starrk's face. Starrk turned towards the touch, as if by instinct.
"Welcome back, Starrk-san," Shunsui murmured. "I've been waiting."
Waiting and hoping. If he knew a god who listened to those who walked the realm of the dead, he would have prayed as well.
The other man sighed, eyes fluttering completely open.
Shunsui knew, in that one moment, that he would never be able to find the words to describe the colour of Starrk's eyes.
Notes: Again, I'm making things up regarding 1) the nature of Hollows, 2) the nature of Hollows and Shinigami (it's canon that they're not opposite, though, so Muramasa becoming Starrk and Lilynette's second zanpaktou is totally possible. Work with me here), and 3) Katen Kyokotsu and Sogyo no Kotowari's forms in Shunsui and Ukitake's inner worlds (as you can tell, I really like the zanpaktou being demon/monstrous in form. Humanoids are boring.)
Also, in Katen Kyokotsu's conversation with Shunsui, they are mostly talking in terms of the 'games' that Shunsui uses in his shikai. Heights = taka-oni, colours = iro-oni, and darkness/shadows = kage-oni. The story Shunsui referenced is that of Urashima Tarou, who captured a magic turtle who took him to the underwater castle of Ryogujou. Google the story; it's a pretty famous Japanese legend, and one of my favourites. (To anyone who watches Gintama, yes, it's the same one legend used for the Ryogujou arc.)
I was super, super frustrated with Shunsui (and Katen Kyokotsu's) role in the actual zanpaktou arc… as I'm sure you can tell.
I hope this chapter was worth the wait, haha.