Madness (I)
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Masaki wakes up with a start. The loud knocking at her door made her panic and still before she scrambles to her feet, jumping out of bed with a sense of dread permeating, propelling her to move, breaking into a run despite the close proximity between the main door and her bedroom. She drapes a robe over her night gown, hastily knotting it as she throws the bedroom door open, wondering who it was knocking at her door so late at night.
There is a moment of finality, her premonition of doom justified when the door swings open and she sees her son at the door. The faint gleam of candlelight from the lamp that she holds flickers. Masaki wraps her robe tighter around her, goosebumps rising from the fresh morning chill.
"Ichigo."
He is dressed in his starch white Quincy uniform, brass buttons polished to a fine glimmer. Other than the heavy fur cloak draped over his shoulders, he gives no indication that he is bothered by the cold. In the dark, the cuts and bruises dotting his face are not so apparent, but Yhwach's marks go beyond skin deep. Public humiliation at the audience the dictator granted was only the beginning. Masaki knows. A mother always knows. She has always known that there will be worse to come. Yhwach would never be satisfied with something as trivial as a flesh wound. His cruelty knows no bounds. It is evident now by the look on Ichigo's face, his eyes cold and steely. There is a noose hanging snug around his neck, ready to pull taut any minute now. Ichigo has been sentenced, heading out to face certain death.
This is all Yhwach's doing.
Masaki has never wished to be wrong more than now. Her heart sinks like lead to the pit of her stomach, making her sick. It takes all that she has to pull herself together, keeping her emotions in check as she hurriedly ushers him inside the apartment, locking the door behind him.
She breathes a little easier with the door locked. She sets the lamp down noisily on the wooden table. Her grip on the table keeps her upright even when she feels the room is spinning. She is a mother. She will be strong for Ichigo.
Turning to face Ichigo, she gives a resigned sigh. "You've been sent on a mission, haven't you? He wants you to hunt down the remaining Shinigamis in the Living World."
Ichigo shakes his head. "Not quite."
He pulls out a chair, helping Masaki into it. Ichigo's footsteps are slow and measured, the sound of them muffled by the thick carpet as he turns his back to her, making his way towards the fireplace instead. Guided by the faint light, he sets the small logs down, piling the kindling above them before striking the match. The fireplace comes alive with a roar, but the warmth- or any fire in the world does not even come close to chasing away the chill that Masaki feels running down her spine.
"He wants me to deliver him the head of Kuchiki Byakuya."
"Kuchiki?" Masaki frowns. The name sounds familiar. "Is he—"
"He is—" Ichigo purses his lips, watching the hungry licks of flame devour and consume all that is within reach— "He is Rukia's brother."
Masaki swears under her breath. Yhwach is utterly despicable. If she could, she would like nothing more than to rip him apart with her own hands.
Ichigo crouches, adding wood to the fire. "I am to go alone. I leave at dawn."
"This is a suicide mission," Masaki hisses. Ichigo acted too rashly, pushing too far too hard. If she could see through it, she has no doubt that Yhwach would as well. Killing Äs Nödt was the wrong move to make. She would not be the first to tell Ichigo so.
"He wants you dead. The Shinigamis will not simply stand idly by as you cut down one of their own. They must have regrouped by now. The Human World will be their stronghold. They will kill you. You should not have—"
"Yet it is already done. I do not regret it."
Masaki sighs. So stubborn; she shakes her head, rubbing at her throbbing temples. Ichigo and his streak of stubbornness is going to send her to an early grave these days. He certainly does not get it from her side of the family.
"What do you need me to do?"
Ichigo straightens himself, turning to his mother. The eyes are windows to the soul. In his eyes, Masaki sees a warrior unmasked. The lines on his face soften. Love truly does complicate things.
"Rukia."
His longing for her inundates in moments like this. The look on his face is uncharacteristically tender. There can be no mistake. To him, Rukia is worth it. He loves her. Even if he does not admit it out loud, his actions speak for themselves. There is nothing that he would not do for her.
This mission to kill Byakuya hurts him more than he would care to admit. He does not want to fight her. The two of them standing as opposing factions in this war, the unbalanced power dynamics in this relationship stemming from Ichigo's role as captor and her as his captive makes it as strained as it is. Her brother's murder, his blood staining Ichigo's hands might be the straw that breaks the camel's back, tipping the scales over to the point of no return.
It will break them.
"Watch over her for me. I-I—" his fists clench— "I don't think she can forgive me for this."
Masaki winces. There is no easy way for Ichigo to say it, just as there is no way for Rukia to simply accept it. If she were to put herself in Rukia's shoes, she didn't think she would be able to forgive him either.
"Did you tell her about the mission? How did she know? What does she know?"
"Rukia knows enough," Ichigo's tone is half-exasperated, half-fondness as he runs a hand through his hair. "She's too smart for her own good. I told her that I have been sent on a mission to the Human World by Yhwach, but she knew what I was getting at, read between the lines and made the connection.
"She knows I want her brother dead."
Masaki purses her lips, suddenly frowning. "Ichigo, that is not true. Yhwach wants her brother dead, not you. You were ordered by Yhwach to carry out the mission. Did you even try to explain that to her?"
Ichigo shrugs. "What difference does it make? Be it an order from Yhwach or otherwise, I am still the executioner. Byakuya's blood would have still been on my hands. Rukia still has every right to hate me for it. I won't give any excuses to that."
Masaki can feel her eye twitching. She resists the urge to grab her son by the collar and throttle him. The fool!
.
'What difference does it make?'
.
Does he even hear himself?
Masaki is more than a little irate as she stands to her full height, marching towards her son, determined to talk sense to him. Ichigo may tower over her, but he is still her son. How can he not see how ridiculously stupid he is being?
"Ichigo, how do you think Rukia would feel about the mission knowing that you are acting under Yhwach's orders compared to you voluntarily going after her brother for revenge?"
Ichigo shakes his head willfully, averting his gaze, insisting to his mother once again that it makes no difference to him. Under her piercing glare, he is unrepentant by the slightest and judging by the determined set of his jaw, it will not be easy to change his mind.
Masaki wrings her hands in frustration. Again with the stubbornness!
"You don't want Byakuya dead, Ichigo. It wouldn't bother you so much if you actually wanted to kill the man because you would have just gone ahead and done it. It bothers you because you know Rukia would disapprove of it, that she will be devastated over the death of her brother. You don't want to upset her. So why don't you realize that it makes all the difference in the world, Ichigo?"
Masaki glares at him, her voice growing shrilly.
"To you! And to Rukia! You control the narrative! Not Yhwach, you! You can choose to come clean to Rukia. You can even tell her that you love her and that Yhwach's order hurts you too because you don't want to kill her brother!"
Masaki curses, her temper rising by the second with how unperturbed and placid Ichigo is by her outburst. It makes her so angry seeing him like this. He won't even help himself.
What good is his mouth if he won't even speak when it matters the most, won't even bother explaining himself to anyone, especially Rukia, who would have needed his assurance the most?
"Damn it, Ichigo! Say something!"
The long stretches of silence from Ichigo as she lectured and raged brings her much despair, feeling that she has failed him as a parent. There are two components in communication. Listening, Ichigo does not nearly do enough. As for speaking, he is worse than a mute. Ichigo has always been shy as a child. Silbern is hardly the sort of healthy environment to encourage self-expression. Serving Yhwach would have only stilled his tongue further, robbing him of his true voice in a role that required him to regress to an emotionless tool, a rabid dog kept on a tight leash by a mad man.
The journey to manhood in Silbern would have left Ichigo accustomed to long stretches for silence and emotionally distant. Meeting Rukia won't magically fix him of such a fatal flaw.
Poor Rukia. The girl never stood a chance. Masaki feels sorry for her. With so much left unsaid, how agonizing it must be to love and in turn, be loved this way? To say nothing of the taboo nature of their relationship, Rukia must feel so torn and insecure, constantly questioning the sincerity and the depth of Ichigo's feelings for her. How would she even know?
Love is not something to be deduced by guesswork or reading between the lines from tussles under the sheets during the unholy hours of the night.
Rukia's love cannot survive like this and Ichigo— now that he has known it, Masaki does not think that he can survive without her love.
Masaki forces herself to take a calming breath. She cannot get through to him like this. She loves her son, but she cannot live his life for him. As much as it pains her, she must let him carve his own path, to make his own mistakes and learn from them. It is her fervent hope that he does not render his relationship with Rukia utterly unsalvageable. Her advice comes from the heart.
"You need to talk to her, Ichigo. Don't do this to her, or even to yourself, Ichigo. You will regret this. You love Rukia, so don't push her away."
Masaki touches the side of his face, parting his long bangs. Her fingers brush against the still healing cuts and bruises. The left side of his face is swollen and left with a mark reminiscent of a hand print. Masaki can easily hazard a guess as to whom the hand print belongs to and how it came to be, but she wisely chooses not to comment on that. Considering the murder and crime that Ichigo is about to commit, Rukia's actions are easily justifiable. Masaki even supports it. Maybe that will teach her son to stop being stubborn and difficult.
Yet, the sight of Ichigo's injuries up close makes her heart clench. Her heart and her resolve soften as her fingers tracing the fading ring of yellow-green under the skin around the eye.
Life in Silbern has been torturous. Wrenched away from the man that she loves and the family that she could have had, forced to watch in abject horror as a mad man steals her son away from her and attempts to shape him into an unfeeling monster right under her nose but being powerless to stop it, Masaki wonders how she finds it within herself to pull through, how she survived thus far.
Words cannot express the depth of her rage and hate at Yhwach for inflicting such pain. But she is also angry at herself for being weak, for allowing this to happen to Ichigo, for believing in the so-called 'greater good' that somehow justified all of their suffering.
Masaki wrings her hands, hating the situation more by the minute. She hates how helpless she is. Yhwach is sending her son out to die and she has no choice but to accept it.
If only she had power, if she were stronger—
Tears streak down her cheeks. "Don't fall for Yhwach's lies. He spews poison. You are not the monster that he says you are. Don't let him win."
That finally draws a reaction from Ichigo. He hates seeing her like this. He shakes his head, gently grasping his mother's hand, wrapping an arm around her shoulder to hug and comfort her.
Ichigo whispers, squeezing her hand, "It will be ok."
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Ichigo knows that saying better than most. The stakes are high. Such is the price of treason.
What he is planning to do- the plan to overthrow Yhwach and take the throne for himself is undoubtedly dangerous, but he has Uryu's support and his mother's blessing. And Rukia; the resolve in him hardens, Rukia needs him. He will come back to her.
He swore that he would. He promised her.
No matter the cost, no matter the price he will have to pay and the blood that will stain his hands.
The game for the throne of The Wandenreich Empire has only just begun. Events have been set into motion. They cannot stop now. Yhwach can use the Almighty, foresee and alter the future as much as he wants. Ichigo swears to do all that he can to fight him every step of the way. He will win. Yhwach should know better than to underestimate his resolve.
He will take this mission and its challenges in stride. Nothing is set in stone yet. Yhwach may have given the order to kill, but he is the executioner. At the end of the day, it is his hands to hold the blade. It is his will that swings the blade.
Masaki is right. He wields the blade. He can control the narrative for he controls the outcome. He can make the kill and just as easily, choose not to go through with it.
There are worse things that he could be pitted against.
There is still hope.
"This can work out in our favour."
Masaki tilts her face up mid-crying, still sniffing. Her eyes narrow. "You are planning something."
She says it matter-of-factly. Ichigo affirms it with a nod and a squeeze of her hand.
Masaki's grip on his hand tightens as she licks at her lips, tasting the salt from her own tears as she angrily swipes at them with the back of her other hand. "Will you tell me about the plan?"
Ichigo shakes his head. Biting his tongue, his plan is risky and, in some ways, not so much as a plan, but rather a calculated gamble. Knowing more about it will only make his mother worry. "It's better if you don't know." He bites the tip of his tongue, telling a half-truth. "Yhwach can't get to you or Rukia if you both don't know anything about this."
"Ichigo—" Masaki's voice is a harsh whisper, her eyes darting suspiciously at their surroundings— "Whatever you are planning, it is much too risky!"
"But this was always the plan, wasn't it? To go back to the Living World some day? He did me a favour. I have a valid reason to go back to Karakura now. I can finish what you started."
"Yes, but not like this! You can't—"
"Trust me, Kaa-san." Ichigo cuts her off. He called her Kaa-san, taking her by surprise. He hasn't called her that since they left the Living World a lifetime ago and with that, he brought back memories of much simpler times of a carefree youth, still idealistic and proud to be a Quincy.
Sometimes she forgets that there was a her before she met the Hollow. Her lips twitch. Ryuken probably still hasn't forgiven her for taking Uryu away and Isshin—
"I know what I am doing. I can protect you."
Ichigo's voice draws her attention, stirring her from her train of thoughts. The determined look on his face says it all. He reminds her so much of Isshin during moments like this. She sighs, knowing full well she has no chance of changing his mind at all.
"And Rukia? What are you going to do about her? She will never forgive you—"
"I have a plan. It won't come to that. Hopefully."
Masaki sniffs, saying nothing while her tears continue to stream, much to Ichigo's dismay. She senses his discomfort from the rigid stance, the way he chews at his lower lip as he awkwardly pats her on the back. Ichigo is not the best at comforting people, let alone crying women, but Masaki appreciates the effort.
At length, she finally stops. She dabs at the wet corner of her eyes, pulling herself together.
"A-At least say goodbye to her."
Ichigo sighs. He looks out of the window and Masaki follows his line of sight, sighing softly when she sees it too. Over the horizon, there is light creeping over the shadows. Shafts of sunlight break through the morning mist. Dawn is fast approaching.
His time is up.
He wraps his arms around Masaki, feeling the warmth of her body and faint smell of home. He feels like a child again, feeling small and uncertain like how he was when he was being sent on his first mission by Yhwach.
Masaki returns the gesture, hugging him fiercely, whispering in his ear, "stay safe. Come back to us."
Ichigo nods solemnly before replying, "I will. Keep her safe."
He straightens himself, rising to his full height, schooling his face into an impassive expression, utterly cold and befitting his station as a Crown Prince as he turns his back to Masaki, marching towards the door.
The door behind him shuts with a soft click and Ichigo does not look back, taking one step after the other, his footsteps thundering as they hit the tiles beneath him. Silbern and her occupants are only just rousing from sleep. Illuminated only by the sparsely placed torches, Ichigo passes through the deserted hallways without trouble.
That is until he sees Uryu up ahead, seemingly out on a casual stroll. Yet his furrowed brow and brisk footsteps betray his urgency. Much like Ichigo, he too is dressed in formal uniform, a warm fur cloak thrown over his shoulders to ward off the cold.
Ichigo keeps his expression neutral, making no attempt to stop. Puffs of white cloud appear as Uryu sighs, walking past him. They make no eye contact. From the distance, there is nothing amiss, nothing out of the ordinary, yet there is in that split second, a quick exchange- a sleight of hands, as a piece of paper changes ownership.
Ichigo clenches his fist tightly around the small slip of paper, keeping it hidden from sight. Uryu's appearance is no coincidence. It is a sign: he is being watched.
Stopping directly in front of a burning torch, Ichigo takes a deep breath, gathering his resolve and sharpening his focus as he conjures a mental image of his destination, trying hard to recall as many details as he can about Karakura, or more specifically the clinic that he used to call home. Inter-dimensional teleportation is a useful skill to have, but he is a little rusty and his control over his reiryouku has never been the best.
As he exhales, the reiryouku within him surges, causing his reiatsu to fluctuate. His shadow expands from behind him, propelled by an unseen hand to form tendrils of black that curl and wrap themselves around him. They surround him, tightening their hold and slowly enveloping him. In the blink of an eye, he is gone from Silbern.
Ichigo steps out of the void into the peak of summer. He leaves the Shadow Realm and Silbern behind him. He steps out into modern Japan, or more precisely the infamous suburban town of Karakura, Tokyo, boasting not just a sizable population of spiritually aware humans, but also some otherworldly beings living among those of the living.
It is his birthplace. He is home.
The wind tugs at his clothes, making his hair wild. The distinct lack of reishi-rich air takes a while getting used to, but he knows he has no time to lose. It is only a matter of time before the Sternritters sent by Yhwach pick up on his trail.
The blank piece of paper flutters past him as he lets go of it, having no further use of it. Uryu is the only one clever and skillful enough to encode a message like this. He uses his reiryouku to leave messages that are designed to disappear, dissipating into the reishi in the surrounding air as the note is unfurled and the message is received by an intended recipient. Had anyone else intercepted the message, the note would have exploded.
Uryu has always been a man of few words and succinct in his communications. The message he leaves is simple: 3.
Three little birds sent by Yhwach to spy on him and report back.
Ichigo smirks. Let them try.
.
With his mind made up, Ichigo turns his attention to his surroundings. He remembers the building being so much taller. The blue signboard that proudly proclaims it as 'Kurosaki Clinic' is still up, but the Kurosaki Clinic that he remembers is vibrant and warm, a two-storey yellow-bricked building that is attached to the family home at the back; with windows so clean that they sparkle under the sun. It looks largely abandoned now with the windows boarded up, paint chipping off at the corners. The green foliage looks unkempt, desperately in need of a good trim.
He frowns. Karakura may have changed a lot since the last time he was here, but he distinctly remembers it as being a lot livelier. Something is not quite right. Where is everyone?
Where have all the residents of Karakura gone?
Ichigo's eyes narrow, turning on his heel at the last minute to avoid an incoming attack.
When the smoke clears, Ichigo is standing on the roof of a neighbouring house. He draws his bow instinctively, the nocked reishi arrow shimmering in pale blue. There is a large crater left on the ground, right where he had been standing just a second ago. Ichigo clicks his tongue in disapproval as he tilts his head downwards, making eye contact with an angry red-haired man glaring daggers at him.
"Well, that wasn't very nice," Ichigo drawls sarcastically.
The man merely scowls in response. He wears the traditional Shinigami shihakusho. A white bandana is tied around his head and his red hair is kept in a high ponytail. Inky black tattoos dot and curl just above his eyebrows, causing Ichigo to raise an eyebrow at that. There is only one seated officer within the Gotei 13 that Ichigo remembers with those descriptions, but the name escapes him. No matter, he thinks, that is not important in the grand scheme of things. It merely proves that the Shinigami is not someone strong enough to be remembered.
The hate that the Shinigami has for him is near palpable, but that in itself is nothing new. Even with an alliance in place, they are still blood enemies.
Ichigo sighs as he straightens to his full height, rolling his shoulders until he hears a satisfying 'pop'. He might actually be growing soft after all. He forces himself to stand down, lowering the bow in his hand while keeping his gaze levelled at the Shinigami. "I mean you no harm."
"Bullshit!" Renji growls as he readies his blade, his unsheathed blade glinting in the sun. "You're the one who kidnapped Rukia!"
Ichigo immediately stills. His voice turns cold and there is a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "What's it to you?"
Renji sees red. "You sick bastard! Give her back!"
When Taichou came back from Hueco Mundo, he brought with him the news of an alliance brokered- one initiated by the crown prince of Wandenreich himself, between him and factions loyal to him, the Shinigamis, the Vizards and the Arrancars. The news was received with mixed feelings among Shinigamis. Some find it shameful, disgusted by the thought of having to join forces with someone who acted on Yhwach's orders and was equally as guilty for slaughtering their own. Those voice of dissent though are quelled by Kyoraku Soutaichou, who is determined to see this alliance through, insisting that the alliance is the only way that they would ever regain control of Seireitei. Renji is personally unsure of what to make of the new developments. To him at least, the news of the alliance was easily overshadowed by the battered wooden badge that Taichou received from the Quincy.
The insignia and kanji spelling for the Thirteenth Division are clearly shown and Ukitake Taichou nearly cried when he saw it. The implications of it leave Renji and the rest of Thirteenth Division shaken. Rukia, who Ukitake Taichou promoted unexpectedly to the position of vice captain at the start of the Quincy Invasion, is still alive.
Everyone in the Thirteenth Division who made it out alive owes their life to Rukia. She was assumed to have perished, sacrificing her life so that the others would have a chance to leave Soul Society as she faced off against a flame-haired Quincy. The Quincy that Rukia fought against, the notorious crown prince of the Wandenreich who attacked Seireitei, the Quincy who has extended an offer of alliance towards them—
Who would have known that they would be one and the same, and the bastard is currently holding Rukia captive?
The Thirteenth Division, or what remains of it, is up in arms, clamouring at Ukitake Taichou and Kyoraku Soutaichou to launch a rescue mission to retrieve Rukia. Rukia is one of their own. She cried and bled, just as they had, if not more, at the senseless destruction of Seireitei. No soldier should be left behind!
Now that they are allies with the prince, surely that would mean that they can negotiate for her safe return?
Renji has never felt more disgusted by the higher-ups' decision. It hurts him to think that someone with as much pride and integrity as Taichou and Ukitake Taichou would fold and balk under the weight of the so-called 'greater good', for the sake of a fragile alliance with their blood enemy.
The Shinigamis have truly fallen, sinking to such lows that Renji feels ashamed to call himself a Shinigami.
His … feelings for Rukia are complicated.
He and Rukia share history together. From a misbegotten childhood out on the streets of Inuzuri, surviving on scraps, fending for themselves, the two were inseparable. The decision to enter the Shinigami Academy was a mutual one upon realizing that they have a potential to be more, but also born of sheer necessity because the alternative was to starve and die.
Sometimes though Renji wonders if entering the Academy was truly the right decision after all, left wondering in the idle moments of how different their lives could have turned out if he said no to going to the Academy. Would Rukia have gone on ahead without him anyway?
Would she choose to stay in Inuzuri with him?
Could they have been happy?
There has always been something about Rukia, a glow about her that sets her apart from the others and himself even as children. It is inevitable that she would be noticed by others, people like Taichou, who are privileged and refined, everything that Renji is not. When he heard the news that Rukia was being adopted into the illustrious Kuchiki clan, Renji was happy for her.
Truly, he was; but that happiness is too easily overshadowed in real life by feelings of jealousy and inadequacy. A deep-seated insecurity over his own worth and potential crept over him. His feelings of fondness, of admiration, of adoration became twisted. He became consumed by the idea of proving himself to her, to their peers, that he too was worthy.
He swore to himself that he would prove his worth to Rukia and then, the world. He will climb the ranks yes, work his way up the hierarchy, and ultimately, he will beat Taichou fair and square in a fight, proving that he is finally worthy, worthy to stand next to Kuchiki princess, not as a subordinate or underling, but as a friend, perhaps even as something more.
Aizen's betrayal and the subsequent Quincy Invasion completely unraveled his plans. All his hard work and struggles have been flushed down the drain. His grand mission, the ultimate goal that he set for himself became meaningless the day that Seireitei's walls were breached. The world as he knew it shattered not too long later, he saw how battered and bruised Taichou was in the aftermath of the attack. Taichou was lucky to still be alive, but the Quincy stole his bankai.
When Senbonzakura returned to Taichou, much to everyone's surprise, Renji took it as a sign that things were about to change. Their grueling training has proven fruitful and there may be a way to turn things around.
How foolishly naïve he was!
Renji grips the hilt of Zabimaru tight, feeling the sting of disappointment. He remembers it a little all too well what Taichou looked like as he emerged from the Garganta. The Fourth Division was on the scene immediately, swarming Taichou and the two Arrancars, who were sent to act as support. They came back looking bloodied, but they got off lightly compared to Taichou. The look on their faces was sour enough to curdle milk. Defeat was not a good look on them. Grimmjow, the arrogant blue-haired Arrancar sported such a mean scowl, snapping and snarling at anyone who would so much as look at him, making Renji worry that he would turn on one of the hapless healers until Unohana Taichou had enough of the Arrancar's antics and set him straight.
Taichou has crossed blades with the Quincy Crown Prince in Hueco Mundo, challenging him for the safe return of Rukia. He returned with deep cuts and wounds, three slashes across his upper torso that soaked his Captain's haori red. He was barely able to stand on his own.
Taichou didn't win. Renji doesn't know how he can keep his head straight, how he can stand still and keep breathing as the world crashes and burns around him. A weaker man would have cried. Everything- everything that he worked so hard to achieve, everything that he has ever strived to work towards—
Everything has been for nothing!
Renji can feel himself shaking from the anger and frustration. He scowls as he strains his neck, looking up to lock eyes with the man on the rooftop. This is all his fault!
"GIVE HER BACK!"
Ichigo's response to that is a lazy smirk as he tilts his head, his eyes hardening into flints. "Make me."
"Howl, Zabimaru!"
Ichigo sighs as he readies himself. The bow in his hand shatters. A sleek black katana materializes by his side and he unsheathes it. Zangetsu gleams in the light and Ichigo gives a bloodthirsty grin. That poor Shinigami, he thinks to himself as he leaps off the roof.
What a shame!
He almost let him go too.
.
.
.
"Where did he go?"
BG9 stands tall, the light from the sun reflecting off his white helmet and faceguard. The white cloak that he wears is high-collared, the ends of it billowing in the wind while shielding the rest of his body from view. A single red glow is emitted from behind the guard of the helmet as he casually takes in the hustle and bustle of the small town in front of it.
Karakura is not at all what he expects. At first glance, there is absolutely nothing remarkable about it at all, not much people loitering about either despite it being midday. He wonders what could have possibly drawn the Shinigamis to a place like this, but he digresses, he is not here to ask questions or ponder about how Shinigami minds work.
In fact, it should appear that he is not here at all. The All Father's orders are clear. He and his fellow comrades are to track and observe the actions of the precious princeling, unseen and undetected by any parties, and to report the findings. BG9 does not know what The All Father expects them to see. Surely no one, let alone Ichigo as crown prince, would be foolish enough to even attempt to betray Him!
That would have been treason and BG9 cannot think of a worst way to die. The All Father does not forgive easily after all. Just as He has no use for failures and incompetent subordinates.
The thought of them having already lost sight of their target makes BG9 gulp, feeling a little nauseous. His voice is a little shrill as he calls out to the two black-haired men standing beside him.
"Can you track his reiatsu?"
Cang Du, who is the taller and older of the two, steps forward. They are perched outside an abandoned factory of sorts on the outskirts of town. They felt Ichigo's reiatsu disappear from Silbern and followed suit immediately. They could not have been landed more than a few minutes later in Karakura.
He frowns. "It is too faint."
There are a lot of Shinigamis in the vicinity. Their reiatsu is interfering with Cang Du's ability to sense and pinpoint Ichigo's whereabouts. Secondly, Ichigo might simply be too far from them.
Dark eyes glance at their surroundings. There are not a lot of buildings in the surrounding to hide in and there would not have been enough time for Ichigo to gone any further. Much like them, he also has a mission and Cang Du cannot imagine him abandoning it.
Cang Du's eyes narrow. Where can he be?
"We lost him～"
The statement earns Nianzol two sets of deathly glares. BG9's disapproval of the shaggy-haired boy and his sing-song voice shows despite his lack of facial expression. Cang Du he can tolerate. The young man is quiet and stoic, but BG9 knows where he stands with him. BG9 can trust him to share the load of responsibilities and if need be, they can work together to achieve the mission goal.
Nianzol though is a menace. Eyeing the two tongues jutting out from his mouth, BG9 would frown if he could. It is unnatural.
"Hold your tongue, Nianzol!" he snaps. "You don't know that fo—"
He is interrupted mid-sentence by the sound of a loud explosion coming from their left. It is violent enough to send the ground beneath them shaking. All three of them instinctively turn towards the source of the loud noise.
"Quickly!" BG9 says, "The explosion! Fol—"
"Way ahead of you, slowpoke," Nianzol giggles, his movement quickly fading to a blur as he activates Hirenkyaku, disappearing from sight in the blink of an eye.
BG9 swears, turning his head just in time to see Cang Du doing the same, leaving him behind. He growls. This is why he should have just stuck to working alone.
"Wait for me!"
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A spurt of blood stains the ground as Renji's back hits the broken segment of the concrete wall behind him. Next to it are the broken pieces of Zabimaru, the edges blunt and dull from use, but Renji is in no state to lament over his shattered blade.
He coughs, gritting his blood-stained teeth as he leans back against the broken structure behind him. His shihakusho is torn and tattered. His hand is still holding onto the hilt of his zanpakutou, his messy red hair unbound as it falls over his shoulders.
The Quincy is too strong. Even the knowledge of Zabimaru's true name, his bankai's attacks barely fazed Ichigo. The man dodged and batted his attacks away with a simple flick of his wrist, countering them without breaking a sweat. The look on his face said it all. He was bored and unimpressed at the slightest by Renji's offensive capabilities. The difference in power meant that the battle was over in minutes.
A mixture of dried blood and sweat cake his face. Renji tries to stand but his vision is swimming and his legs feel heavy and leaden.
Damn it!
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Get up!
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When Renji notices the shadow cast over him, his instinctive reaction is to shirk but his body remains stationary. He curses, feeling too weak to even crawl.
"You!" Renji growls, spluttering as blood dribbles from the corner of his mouth. "T-This isn't over!"
Ichigo stops in front of him. Zangetsu's blade is as black as the night and sharp enough to cut through steel. It gleams against the base of Renji's chin, deadly and dangerous, forcing him to tilt his face up. Renji gathers a ball of spit in his mouth, tasting the iron before launching it in Ichigo's face.
Ichigo easily dodges it, watching it hit the ground impassively before he changes the angle of his blade, placing it directly above Renji's jugular. Ichigo smirks, daring him to move. All it takes is a simple cut and the Shinigami will bleed out in seconds.
The hate in Renji's eyes is pure poison, but Ichigo shrugs it off, snorting loudly as he replies, "That's rich; coming from a loser who can barely stand!"
Ichigo presses the blade harder against bare skin, noting the nervous bob of Renji's Adam's apple. Renji hisses when he feels the cut being made. A small trickle of blood drips from the wound.
There is fear in Renji's eyes, try as he may to disguise it. Ichigo relishes it. "Any last words?"
Renji grits his teeth. "D-Do your worst!"
Ichigo's smirk widens.
Before he can deal the finishing blow, Ichigo is interrupted by a blast of reiatsu in his vicinity. The reishi in the air roils and coils from the effects of the newcomer's shunpo. A faint smell of cherry blossom lingers in the air.
Ichigo barely reacts to the newcomer's presence. He gives Renji a patronizing look. Looks like someone is lucky enough to die another day.
The cavalry, it seems has finally arrived.
"Byakuya," Ichigo greets him with a smile, turning so Byakuya can take in the full scale of the carnage behind him. The neighbourhood that they are in is now a ruined landscape of broken slabs of concrete and marble. Cracked tiles are littered among craters the size of houses while trees are uprooted and strewn about near debris and piles of smouldering fire.
Nothing is safe from Ichigo's path of destruction.
Byakuya raises his eyes to the yellow brick building in front of him. Unlike the nearby buildings, it is at least still standing, the structure and pillars are intact despite the heavy plumes of smoke that surround it. The back of the building, the part that makes up the Kurosaki home is currently engulfed in flames. Broken glass line the ground from where the glass windows have been blown to smithereens. With a heavy groan, the plaque that is Kurosaki Clinic collapses, causing the pavement underneath to crack and dent.
"T-Taichou!"
Slate grey eyes trail away from the wreckage to narrow at the sight of Renji's crumpled form, lying in a puddle of his own blood, too weak to even stand. The broken segments of Zabimaru and Renji's injuries attest to the viciousness of the battle. Byakuya knows that Renji had given his all and held nothing back. As a warrior, he applauds the younger man's valiance.
He heaves a sigh. It is simply unfortunate that the opponent that Renji went up against is in a different league of its own. On the battlefield, the Quincy is both great and terrible, more beast than man in his ferocity, divinely arbitrary over the fates of those of his opponents. There is no mercy to be found by his hands, nothing to stay the swing of his blade once he wills it to be so. Byakuya should know, having once been on the receiving end of it.
Byakuya's face is solemn as his hand reaches for the hilt of his sword. "That is enough, Kurosaki."
In the blink of an eye, Senbonzakura is unsheathed. "Let Renji go."
Ichigo does not even bat an eye at the sword pointed at him. So this Shinigami's name is Renji. What does he have to do with Rukia, he wonders. The not-knowing irks him. It is happening again. There are too many things that tie Rukia to these …people who do not deserve her. Too many ties that bind.
Ichigo frowns. Zangetsu burns in his hand. Chains of blue snake upwards, climbing his arm. He wants to sever these ties. Rukia belongs to him and him only.
"And if I don't?"
Byakuya frowns. "We are allies. Let him go. It's not worth upsetting our alliance over something like this. Be sensible about this."
Ichigo gives a hollow laugh. "I don't know if you noticed this, Byakuya, but sensibility has never really been my thing. If you want him—" Ichigo gives him a challenging look— "come and get him. That is, if you think that you can win. Remember what happened last time?"
Byakuya bristles at the obnoxiousness, glaring daggers at him. The outcome of their last fight haunts him. Even with the help of the Arrancars, he still lost to Ichigo. Rukia's safety is paramount. It stings to know that his sister is still held behind enemy lines, in the clutches of this insufferable Quincy!
He forces himself to remain calm, gritting his teeth as he repeats himself. "I am asking you nicely. Let Renji go."
"And this is me telling you nicely," Ichigo replies blithely, "No."
Further attempts at reasoning would have been futile. Byakuya does not know a lot about the Quincy prince. He does not know what happened between him and Renji and cannot comment on whether the attack was provoked, but this he does know: if he does not save Renji, the Quincy will kill him.
The alliance is too important to be jeopardized by Ichigo's spur of the moment stupidity. Despite Kyoraku's best attempts, the Shinigamis are wary of placing their trust in the Quincy prince, for a good reason. The death of one of their own will not help their case. Byakuya will not allow Ichigo to ruin the hard work that has been put in into making this work. The Gotei 13 cannot allow any further division among their ranks. For better or worse, the alliance must work.
Byakuya tightens his grip on Senbonzakura, making up his mind. He will draw Ichigo away from Renji, so Renji can have time to escape.
Sparks fly as steel bites against steel. Ichigo does not flinch, easily pivoting to meet the attack. His eyes are cold, mirroring Byakuya's as their blades meet. Byakuya pauses, darting away just in time to mouth one word at Renji before he dives back into battle, giving his all.
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Run!
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Senbonzakura blurs in his hands. Byakuya wields it as an extension of himself. With the aid of shunpo, his movements are fluid and lightning quick, fast enough that it would have been missed in the blink of an eye. Byakuya is a master of zanjutsu and his prowess shows with every parry and thrust. Ichigo goes toe to toe with Byakuya, swiftly bringing up Zangetsu to block the attacks, nimbly dodging when needed.
Despite the immense expense of energy and concentration, neither of them shows any signs of fatigue or letting their guard drop. As the battle heats up, the two expert swordsmen circle each other warily. Their eyes are focused on the other's movements, ready to jump into action at the slightest window of opportunity, senses keen on any possible opening to be exploited.
Ichigo goes on the offense, attacking relentlessly. Byakuya ducks, bending backwards to narrowly avoid an incoming attack.
Dark eyes gleam. Abruptly, Ichigo swings Zangetsu upwards, changing the trajectory of the attack.
As Byakuya resurfaces, barely just regaining his balance, Zangetsu is already there, no more than a hairsbreadth away, aimed directly at his chest. Byakuya's eyes widen in surprise. He hastily defends himself as he counters the attack with Senbonzakura, bringing it up just in time.
A loud clatter echoes when the blades meet yet again. The force of the blow nearly pushes Byakuya back. He can feel his arms growing numb, nearly buckling from the strain, but he stands his ground, gritting his teeth as he presses his full weight behind the blade, defensively protecting himself.
"What's the matter, Byakuya? Getting tired?" Ichigo taunts. "Is that all you got?"
Byakuya glares. His chest heaves from the effort as a light sheen of sweat coats him. He wants nothing more than to smack the smirk off the Quincy's face. There is something unique in Ichigo's heritage. Byakuya has only suspected it during their fight in Hueco Mundo, but it becomes ever more apparent now.
The fundamental difference between Shinigamis and Quincys lie in their inherent ability to manifest, store, and weaponize their reiryouku. The Quincy have always been manipulators at their core, relying on the reishi in their surroundings, pulling at it to feed and fuel their attacks, keeping it stored in special equipment for later use. This puts them at a severe disadvantage in a reishi-lacking environment like the Human World, and likewise limits their abilities to heal, both themselves and others, unlike the Shinigamis. Ichigo though, is a monster with a seemingly limitless reserve of spiritual energy to do his bidding. Despite his earlier fight with Renji, he does not show any signs of exertion. If anything, his reiatsu seems to be flaring even wilder as the smirk on his face widens.
Byakuya looks up, his teeth clenching from the effort. In Ichigo's eyes, he sees the determination to win. He is a mad man, cut from the same cloth as a Kenpachi.
This, Byakuya realizes is not going to a be battle of endurance. He inhales sharply, focusing every ounce of his reiryouku into a singular action.
"Sai!"
Ichigo is caught off guard. The look on his face is almost comical as he is flung backwards. Though shocked, he instinctively brings up his arms, tucking his chin into his chest. The momentum propels him forward, causing Ichigo to roll several times over, kicking up dust and debris, before coming to a stop as he smashes against the front steps leading up to the Kurosaki Clinic, making a human-size imprint against the concrete.
Byakuya barely has time to catch his breath, but he does not hesitate, following up with another kido spell before the dust even settles around Ichigo. "Hainawa!"
Yellow ropes of electricity shoot towards Ichigo, slithering across his body, binding him and keeping him still. Ichigo struggles against his binds, scowling murderously as one of the ropes wraps around his mouth, silencing him. Byakuya straightens himself, feeling the brunt of Ichigo's annoyance as he calmly walks up to the man. He points his index finger at Ichigo, uttering yet another kido spell.
"Rikujokoro!"
As the six beams of light slam into Ichigo, further immobilizing him, Byakuya does not linger at the scene. With Ichigo's reiatsu and his immense spiritual power, it is only a matter of time before the Quincy breaks free.
Byakuya springs into action, immediately shunpoing over to Renji. They need to go now. A quick check of his vitals show that the younger man is still alive, but his breathing shallow and barely conscious. Byakuya eyes the man with a frown, sighing as he drapes Renji's arm over his shoulder and keeps an arm around Renji's waist. Not one to make a rookie mistake, Byakuya fires another quick succession of bakudo spells at Ichigo before he activates shunpo, putting as much distance he can between themselves and Ichigo as quickly as he can.
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Ichigo seethes, straining against his bonds as Byakuya and Renji disappear from his line of sight. He forces himself to remain calm and then with a sharp inhale, pools his reiryouku within him until it surges, amplifying his reiatsu dramatically.
The ground begins to shake and tremble. Brick and concrete stir from their mould, vibrating and crumbling from the edges. The beginning to the end starts at a line- a sharp jagged line that runs crooked from the side of the clinic, cutting through the building mercilessly before the lines snap and splinter into cracks, pulling the building apart in a matter of seconds. With a loud howl, the glimmering chains and rods holding Ichigo in place snap and fold, disintegrating into thin air.
A loud boom can be heard from miles away as the Kurosaki Clinic collapses, erupting into a rolling wave of hot air and grey dust.
From the rubble, Ichigo emerges, his clothes dirty and torn, his face and colourful hair powdered white. He rolls his shoulders, cracking the aching joints. The look on his face is grim and his eyes are hard as he surveys the scene of demolition.
The Kurosaki Clinic is no more. He destroyed his own childhood home. The source of his many fond memories of the life before Yhwach and the Wandenreich, memories of himself and his parents giggling and laughing, the warmth and shelter of his family, crushed in entirety into dust.
How fitting, he thinks, clenching his fists tight by his side. Everything he touches only dies.
Ichigo gives a hollow laugh, shaking the dust off. If it is a chase that Byakuya wants, he is more than happy to oblige.
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Author's note:
Song inspo: Madness (Muse)
Muahahaha! I'm back!