We're back to present time, and the story arc; which was intersected by mini-arc; now continues.
Arc name: Those who would challenge Gods, act 2, The Counterattack
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The Heir Apparent
Chapter 36: Three Tales Conclude
Kyoraku paused in his telling, wondering how he should continue. How to condense a turbulent decade of tensions, warfare and intrigue into a few sentences. It was impossible, none of his audience had lived during that time, they couldn't possibly relate. It would have to suffice to make sure they understood a few key points for the rest of that piece of history.
'We were all ordered to exterminate the Quincy in reprisal for Eiroshi's death, the same as before except now every division was involved. It was the most captain-class fighters that had been in the material world ever, until Aizen. The Quincy were being slaughtered by five divisions as it was, doubling our numbers just meant it went that much faster. Within a year there was barely any left in the material world.
'I still carried the guilt for causing the extermination, and towards the end I managed to negotiate amnesty for the remaining Quincys. By then there were only a hundred left, about half of them situated in Japan, including your friend Ishida's direct ancestors.
'As for our trial, it was postponed until the Quincy crisis had simmered down. We had been given reprieve until then. Then we were made to appear before chamber 46.'
Unohana took over, 'It was Daiken's evidence that acquitted us, but we still bore the guilt of our own actions. In the end it was the large shortage of captains at the time that prevented them from punishing us properly. They simply couldn't afford to lose us. So they sentenced us to permanent service to Gotei thirteen.'
'But not me or Yoruichi,' Kukaku put in smugly, sitting up against her pillows, 'We got off scot-free. Though I suppose I got the reverse, I had to leave Gotei thirteen because of my arm.' She flexed her recently restored limb.
Unohana nodded, 'They weren't that involved, and weren't captains at the time,' she said, 'They were never prosecuted.'
'Excuse me,' said Byakuya stiffly, 'How exactly is permanent service a punishment?'
Kyoraku had been so lost in the past it seemed like ages since he'd noticed anyone around him except Unohana and Kukaku. The head of the Kuchiki house was still leaning against the wall, in the same position as earlier. His eyes were now open. The lieutenants were scattered around the room, Matsumoto lying chest down, leaning her elbows; a position that showed off far too much of her breasts. Nanao was sitting cross legged on her pillow, jotting down notes in a small book. He resisted the urge to rest his eyes on her perfect form, while it would certainly relax him this wasn't the time to appear a love-struck idiot.
Someone else had no qualms with it. Ichigo was sitting with his legs around Rukia, who was leaning back on his chest. She'd placed her hands on her lap, and he'd covered them with his. The image of a couple, picture perfect. Except that they were currently blinking too much, as though they'd had their eyes closed until now. Kyoraku had to smile, new love warmed even the scarred heart.
'Excuse me,' said Byakuya again.
'Sorry, my bad,' he said, 'Though I'd have thought you'd know this, Bya-kun. Captain that have performed long and faithful service were previously rewarded by being allowed to retire - they went into a life of relative peace and luxury in the Royal Guard. We were cut off from ever receiving it, in this lifetime.'
That verdict had proven a blessing in disguise, since the Royal family, along with its guard, had been destroyed by Aizen. Kyoraku felt his mind wander as Unohana explained how she'd turned the fourth division into a medical support unit during the Quincy extermination, and continued on afterwards. He knew the reason for that, after what had happened with Ukitake she'd sworn to never take another life, even if it cost her own. He didn't agree with that vow, it was far too restrictive for a warrior, but it was her life to live the way she wished.
Funnily enough in the early stages of the medical division she'd been frustrated many times by the type of wounds she was dealing with, and responded to them with reactions that would have done anyone in the eleventh division proud. To this day legends were spoken of Captain Unohana's wrath, especially in the eleventh.
He was brought back to the present with his name called, '-They wouldn't have left any mark if he'd come straight to me. I must admit though, this is the first time I'd heard that it was Kyoraku-taicho who caused Yamamoto's scars,' Unohana was saying, her voice catching at the old man's name.
'Mine too,' Kukaku murmured.
In fact this was the first time he'd ever spoken of that fight to anyone, he hadn't even told Jushiro. Now that the old man was dead it didn't matter, keeping it secret. Yamamoto hadn't said anything, but he'd made it plain in other ways to him; and those who had interrupted their battle; that he didn't want anyone to know. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he'd have probably lost on that day, had Kyoraku been in decent shape. At any rate, it wasn't just Unohana, he'd refused to let medical personnel look at his wounds, fearing that they would talk; which was why he'd been left permanently marked. The shock to his system had turned his beard, which before had been roughly a third grey and black, totally white. In the end the fight hadn't caused any bad blood between them , Kyoraku even had the sneaking suspicion that the old man had respected him for it.
Gods, how he missed him.
It hadn't quite sunk in yet. Yamamoto had been a rock to Gotei thirteen. Well, maybe more of a massive gnarled boulder; he thought with a smile; one that had always been in your garden and you couldn't possibly move, thus you planned the layout of bushes and flowerbeds around it. Yet to remove that boulder, even leaving all else untouched, changed everything.
It was the first time, since back in the time of the telling, that he felt like he might prefer to die than continue living. Perhaps it was just because all the old emotions from back then had been dredged up, coupled with the current pain. He remembered the long hours he'd sat in silence then, staring at his blades, trying to build up the resolve to finish it. He'd even finished his poem, the last verse meant to be a self eulogy, it sat currently in his pocket with all the other verses he'd written two centuries ago. He didn't need to read it to remember what it said.
On my sin's wake I stand unbended
This turmoil of my life has ended
Yet no peace will console me, this I know
Though I'm afraid, I have to go
I glance into the night sky
One last time, and sigh
My sin has been amended
He had never done it then, he'd been too much of a coward. He was still.
x
'Why did you tell me this?' said Uryu.
'Yes, why?' said Orihime.
They were in some sort of dungeon, deep in the fortress they'd been brought to. As dank and dark as it was though, it seemed somewhat unused, as though it had been dug more to continue the castle theme than for any actual need of it. They were the only prisoners there, besides the Shinigami lieutenant who'd been on deaths door when they arrived; though there were at least fifty cells. Orihime had been allowed to heal her, under close guard, while they'd listened to Bismark's story. The Rache wanted proof that her unusual healing could dispel aggravated poisoning, and it had. Hinamori was currently fast asleep, her ordeal had taken a lot out of her.
'Because,' said Bismark, 'It is important that you understand where we come from. After all, you will be the first among our new generation of Rache.'
'I thought I told you,' said Uryu, 'I'm never going to join you people.'
'I understand, you don't want to kill your Shinigami friends.'
'You do?'
'When they're gone, and we're in charge, someone must protect the people on earth from hollows.'
Uryu took a breath, and grated, 'If you win, and it becomes your "Rache" Quincy killing all the hollows, reality will destabilise.'
'You're talking about how our powers destroy souls, yes?' said Bismark, 'But we can use Shinigami ones as well.' To emphasise his point, he drew the sword behind his back. 'When we kill hollows with these, it is the same as with any Shinigami.'
'Those are… those are stolen blades!' Uryu gasped.
'So? They do the job. We're going to take command of Seireitei, and the Shinigami's role as well. Did you really think we were so short sighted?'
'A zanpakutou is the extension of the shinigami, how do you possibly use them?'
Bismark's handsome features flushed with pleasure, 'It was quite by accident that we discovered. I was nearly killed by a Shinigami,' he pointed to his scarred neck, 'While carrying this,' he indicated to his drawn sword. 'My reitsu resonated with it as I came close to death, and I was forced into direct communication with the zanpakutou spirit. It healed me when I should have died, and since then I was able to use it, though it took me a while to learn how.' He laughed aloud, 'Of course, we only realised how it worked later, after a few failed experiments. Most others with fusion abilities have scars over their hearts, we found that was the easiest way to force communion.'
'No way you'll do that to Ishida-kun!' cried Orihime.
'I can't do anything to him,' Bismark told her, 'He must choose it for himself. And in time, he will.' He smiled at Uryu, making him shudder. 'I have high hopes for you, boy. Perhaps I'll even give you Ryujin Jakka, the captain-commanders blade.'
Uryu went white with horror and rage as, laughing, Bismark exited up the stairs.
x
'So that's how it was,' said Yoruichi simply.
'Good times,' said Urahara, 'Though I seem to remember you having a fall-out with your captain after that.'
'His actions ultimately resulted in my father's death. Even if he couldn't have foreseen the consequences, it was not something I could forgive. It's still not something I can forgive,' she amended.
'Alright, that I understand,' said Renji, 'I mean, it's a bit weird to think that in my last life I was your enemy, but I have to ask: What the hell are they doing here?'
The they that Renji was referring to consisted of Grimmjow, Nel, her fraccion and the various other Arrancar they'd gathered since the war. Ishida Ryuuken, Uryu's father, was there too.
'Be glad we even came, Shinigami,' said Grimmjow, scratching his electric blue hair.
'I'm just here to get my no-good son out of trouble,' said Ryuuken, adjusting his glasses.
They were all in the underground cavernous basement of what had been the Urahara Shoken, and was now the twelth division research outpost in the Spiritual centre. Urahara had sent Jinta and Ururu away, apparently this wasn't something he wanted to involve the two of them in.
'I'm glad you asked, Abarai-san,' said Urahara happily, raising his index finger, 'Basically, we need help. You see, the severed world has been sealed between Soul Society and the material world, and Soul Society and the hollow plain. By tracing the basis of the energy used, I was able to work out that it was Quincy work. An incredible achievement, to be sure. It's fairly obvious that Soul Society has been attacked, and if they were strong enough to do the sealing there is a good chance they might succeed in their endeavour. But what they didn't know is that there's a third way in.'
Everyone blinked, and Renji asked the obvious question, 'Er… how?'
'It's not one that's commonly used, in fact I don't think the gate between those particular planes has been in over two thousand years, in the time of the first captain-commander, the one who preceded the one before Yamamoto. I think he was also the first Shiba… Regardless, despite its ancient seal, I believe we can make it through.' He visibly squared his shoulders. 'We're all going to transport ourselves into hell, and travel from there into Soul Society.'
The silence was deafening. Then everybody spoke at once.
x
Serena Rommel stood outside the walls of Seireitei, her strike team assembled behind her. Twenty men and women, all of them circle members, meaning that they were as powerful as Shinigami seated officers. These twenty were ones that had guarded their stronghold during the battle, and lain in ambush during the retreat, so they weren't exhausted like the rest of the Rache; and the Shinigami. Tonight's operation was simple, go in; create a lot of noise and damage; and get out before the Shinigami knew what hit them. The goal being morale damage more than actual casualties, though they wouldn't go amiss either. They had them on the back foot, it was important to keep them there.
She checked her watch, a mortal device that she'd picked up on her last recruiting trip to the material world and transferred into spiritual matter. In Rukongai life moved so slowly that it was almost useless, one might as well look at the sun, but tonight it was a boon. She could time her operation precisely.
And… 3.…2.…1.…Now. The walls rippled, then slid in long sections into the ground. Good, the sleeper agents in the twelfth division had done their work well. Now they could enter, the window period should last until they were out and away. Of course, if they stepped close to the walls when unauthorised to do so they'd activate automatically. Fortunately they had a way around that one as well.
'Alright, let them out,' she ordered, as she herself pulled out a container with a hell butterfly inside.
The batch they were using had been smuggled out earlier that day, they could never keep them for long. For some reason exposure to Quincy energy seemed to kill them almost instantly, they had to be so careful. It was a damn inconvenience, but these little insects were the only way to navigate between the mortal world and Soul Society, as well as Seireitei and Rukongai. To make matters more complicated, the destination of the butterfly had to be imprinted with Shinigami energy in a controlled environment they could not provide, not without killing the tiny creatures.
It would have been a huge problem hindering their most delicate (and vital) operations, except that the Shinigami had delegated the task of handling the butterflies to their lowest-ranked seated officers, where it was supremely easy to insert their own people. They were fools to not keep a closer eye on such a glaring weakness, and now they would pay. Serena allowed her butterfly to lead her over the gateway, these ones had been sent to them already imprinted by their agents. Her strike team followed.
'Spread out and get into your positions,' she ordered in a soft voice, glancing back at her people. Anyone would mistake them for Shinigami if they by chance ran into them, for they were all wearing shihakusho.
They said their affirmatives, and flash-stepped away. After a moment Serena did the same.
x
Meanwhile, on the other side of Seireitei, another Rache had entered the walls. Alexander Marx caught the hell butterfly that had led him through and deposited it a container, then in his front pocket. Unlike the strike team he was in his Quincy-styled uniform, with his black cape over and the low hanging hood covering most of his head. He smiled thinly, the gesture just caught in the gloomy light.
He summoned his Quincy crossbow to his hand, and sucked deeply on the power nearby. Then he fired at a nearby wall, BAAA-DOOOOM. The roaring, booming blast made his ears ring it was so loud. It made the very ground shake and threw blue energy sky-high as it ripped through the masonry, creating a massive gouge.
Satisfied that it would be enough to rouse the Shinigami before the raid started, Marx withdrew another butterfly for his exit. After that, he would force the activation of the Seireitei walls. If all went as planned, neither Serena nor any of her men would survive the night. Then both sides would be on an even footing. Which suited his plans perfectly.
He started to laugh, everything was falling into place. Soon he would be the master of all of Soul Society.
x
Crack is back!
(Ichigo and Rukia are about to leave for a costume party. Rukia is dressed in a skimpy costume with bunny ears and a fluffy tail.)
Ichigo: What the hell, Rukia, you look like a hooker!
Rukia: It was the only bunny outfit the shop had and… ICHIGO, what the HELL are you wearing!
(Ichigo is in his Mugetsu outfit.)
Ichigo: I thought I'd go as a Ninja.
Rukia: This is NOT a Naruto cosplay, take it off at once!
Ichigo: Heh, you'd like that, midget.
Rukia: (face-palms)
Take two!
Rukia: ICHIGO, what the HELL are you wearing!
Ichigo: (defensively) Well the fan girls thought it was cool, so I thought I'd do a bit more fan service.
Rukia: The fan girls think you should get with Grimmjow and Renji, are you going to service them too, hmm?
Ichigo: …
Take three!
Rukia: ICHIGO, what the HELL are you wearing!
Ichigo: Rukia, this is the Ultimate form Kubo-san gave me, I'm like the incarnation of Getsuga or something.
Rukia: It's LAME!
Ichigo: (claps a hand over her mouth) Shh, don't let him hear that.
Rukia: Why not?
Ichigo: He's the author, he could do anything to us. He could kill you off, or worse, pair me with Orihime!
Rukia: (horrified) We'd better pray for forgiveness.
Ichigo: (nods)
Ichigo and Rukia: (on their knees) Our Author, who art beyond the fourth wall, hallowed…
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A/N: Shorter chapter, and not as thoroughly checked as I'd like, but I needed to get it out fast. This is my last time writing this story from Sunny South Africa, from next week I'm in Thailand, where I will be for a long while. I will be completing this story, do not fret, but naturally my release rate will be dependant on my workload, and how much I'm training Muay Thai!
Btw, sorry if you liked the Mugetsu form, but as you might have gathered, I don't. Kubo probably got told the stupidity of making the main character look nothing like himself by his editor, and shortened the time he spent in that form as a result. Makes you wonder why he even bothered.
Also, if you have any ideas for future crack, throw them at me and I'll see what I can make of them. That's all, see you next time from the other side of the world.