While Ryuji didn't like being a downer, quite frankly, today had kind of sucked. Ushimaru made a fool of him at school, Rukia revealed that Aizen was planning to murder a shit-ton of people, Akira was still acting weird, and oh, yeah – Ann was allowed to start Bankai training, but he wasn't. As the two blondes rejoined the others, Ann had been positively beaming as she told them the news. The Phantoms (sans Akira) didn't dwell on it for too long initially much to Ryuji's relief, their congratulations quickly swept away in favour of listening to Uryū as he showed them around Karakura. When they settled down to eat at a local barbeque place, however, Makoto started querying Ann about Urahara's offer, and an ugly knot of envy began to curdle in the former track star's stomach.

Ryuji tried to listen in like it was simply another conversation, and smother the storm clouds threatening to brew over his face – Ann didn't deserve to be the recipient of his ire, after all – but his façade cracked at least a couple of times before the girls moved on to a different topic. By the time the meal came to an end, the only reason he didn't feel relieved was because he was too utterly exhausted.

"I'm gonna take a quick bathroom break before we go." Ann gave them a sheepish grin. "The train back to Shibuya is looooong, and I don't really fancy shunpoing all the way home."

Makoto rubbed her chin. "I might join you. Though, maybe we should run back to Shibuya - we need all the training we can get."

As the girls departed, Uryū rose to his feet. "I'll handle the bill - for all his faults, Ryūken does give me a sizable allowance, and I might as well put it to good use."

The Quincy walked away, and Ryuji slumped in his seat, finally letting his misery seep through. I suppose I might as well look on the bright side – today might have been shit, but at least I got a free meal.

"Sheesh. You look like a dog that's been locked outside all night in the rain."

The blond jolted upright, blanching. Shit – he'd completely forgotten Futaba was still there. He'd sort of just assumed she'd gone off with the other girls - they moved in packs, after all, especially when toilet breaks were involved. As the younger teen arched a brow at him, his mind raced for an excuse. Ryuji then stilled, however. Why not just be honest? If any of the Phantoms understood how he was feeling, it would be her.

Shoulders slumping, he dragged a hand through his hair. "I know it ain't Ann's fault, but all this Bankai stuff… it kinda feels like a kick in the teeth. Like... I know I'm the weakest Phantom, but when I got my Shikai, it kinda at least felt like we were on the same playing field? Now though, I'm just lagging behind yet again. Bankai's a big fuckin' deal - I mean, it increases your power by ten! How the heck am I meant to keep up with that?"

"Akira's not getting any super-duper Bankai training either, remember." Futaba pointed out.

"Yeah, but Akira's Akira. He never needed Bankai to be crazy strong." Ryuji sighed. "This ain't like before either - unless I can close the distance between us, I'm gonna be totally useless against Aizen." The blond pursed his lips. "I guess… I'm gonna have to just get stronger, Ryuji style!"

… Whatever the hell that meant.

As his outburst ended, Futaba watched him incredulously, and suddenly, a switch flicked in his mind.

Oh.

Before he became a proper Shinigami and got a Shikai of his own, how had he helped the others? By using Futaba's spirit-tech weaponry.

Feeling like an idiot, he looked at Futaba with puppy-dog eyes, and she rolled her own in return. "Damn, took you a while to put two-and-two together. You're such a bonehead, Skull."

"Uh, look, I don't wanna be a bother, but…" Ryuji scratched the back of his head.

"Why would it be a bother? I'm getting just as much out of this as you are, remember?" She pushed up her glasses. "Anyway, I've actually kind of been tinkering on something new for you for a while now - us team normies have to stick together, after all!"

His heart skipped a beat. "Does that mean you're making some super cool weapon?"

The manic grin that crossed Futaba's face was both reassuring and blood-chilling at the same time. "Mwehehe… let's just say I've something a bit more exciting than that."

Ryuji really wasn't sure whether to be excited or terrified, and settled on some mixture of both.

…..

Makoto had been home for almost two hours by the time Sae arrived back from work. Glancing at their living room clock, the brunette saw it was nearing ten in the evening. It was a completely unreasonable time to be returning home from the office, but alas, far better than some of the all-nighters Sae had pulled in the past. At this hour, Makoto would normally be getting ready for bed – especially since it was a school night – but after the day's events she didn't think she'd be getting any sleep even if she wanted to. Anxious energy coursed through her veins as her thoughts raced at a mile a minute, showing no sign of settling down.

On the bright side, at least she was awake enough to have a conversation with her sister.

"Welcome back." Makoto smiled, turning away from the homework she theoretically completing. "Dinner is in the fridge."

As Sae walked into the kitchen, she arched a brow at her sister. "Thank you. Still studying? It's rather late for you."

Makoto shrugged and put down her pen. "I think I'm too wound up to rest. I thought maybe some maths would take my mind off things."

"I suppose that's fair enough. Try not to stay up too late though – you're young and need your sleep." Sae grimaced as she put the takeaways Makoto brought back home into the microwave. "Still, what a nightmare. I can't believe things have escalated this far…"

Makoto nodded, and let out a sigh. Earlier this year, her greatest worry had been an overbearing principal. Now, she was going to join an army to battle a ghost in order to stop him from potentially causing the apocalypse. As happy as she was with her new friends and personal growth over the last few months, she'd be lying if she said she didn't wish it had all come at a significantly lower cost. As Sae sat down, stirring her dinner to help cool it down a little bit, Makoto decided to take the plunge.

"Urahara's going to teach Ann how to unlock her Bankai." She announced. "It got me thinking… two months isn't much time to improve, at least by standard methods. I was wondering if you could, well…" The brunette swallowed, butterflies in her stomach. She knew it was a touchy subject, but she couldn't afford to pander to Sae's feelings now – not with so many lives at stake. "That technique you used against Yoruichi and Kuchiki-san, Vollständig… is it something Uryū or I could learn?"

Sae leant back in her chair, a deep frown crossing her face. "I… I'm not sure. It was something my inner Hollow taught me when I first entered my inner world - if normal Quincies can use it, I have no idea how." She then pursed her lips. "Truthfully, even if I could teach you, I don't have the time. Between my job and my investigation into the Vanishing Incidents my schedule's full, and I'm already delegating as much as I can as-is. If I turn away any more cases I'm going to start burning bridges."

Makoto's disappointment at Sae's refusal turned to sadness as her sister finished her explanation. "… Are you still getting hounded by your bosses? I was hoping that, well, with what happened to Kobayakawa…"

"I'm a young woman working in a prestigious, highly competitive, male-dominated field. My superiors don't need any outside influences to be hyper-critical of my work." Sae huffed before her expression grew more sympathetic. "I'm sorry – I wish I could help you, but…"

"That's okay." Makoto forced a smile. "If you can't, you can't."

They moved on to lighter topics after that – Makoto talking about her social studies project and Sae about one of her less serious cases. By the time the older Niijima finished her dinner, the student council president's anxiety had ramped down enough for exhaustion to finally begin seeping in.

"I think I'm going to bed now." Makoto yawned. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

After saying goodnight to her sister, she took a quick bath before crawling into her bed. Instead of closing her eyes and settling down, however, the brunette withdrew her phone.

Makoto: I talked to Sae tonight. Unfortunately, she's not going to be able to teach us Vollständig.

Makoto: Even if she had the time, she doesn't know how.

Uryū : Damn it. I can't say I'm entirely surprised, but I'd hoped she'd at least know where we could begin.

Makoto: Do you have any alternate ideas?

Uryū: … A couple, though none of them are particularly appealing.

Uryū: Let's discuss it in person this weekend.

Swallowing, trepidation welled in Makoto's stomach. She did not have a restful sleep that night.

…..

For a second time in as many days, Akira met Akechi in Kichijoji. This time, though, the atmosphere couldn't be more different. Instead of wearing his ridiculous Detective Prince persona like a masquerade mask, Akechi's expression was guarded and his posture stiff. When he caught sight of Akira, there was no sparkle in his eyes, only cold assessment.

"You wanted to talk to me, Kurusu?"

Akira scanned the other boy. Akechi's shoulders were rigid, and the smile he was currently forcing was as brittle as bone. Something mischievous – cruel – flickered to life in his stomach, and Akira purred.

"Straight to business already?" A wolfish grin crossed his face. "Come on, now. Let's at least get a drink first."

Akechi's smile grew even more strained. "I'm a busy man, Kurusu." He replied, voice light, but Akira could taste the hint of a warning.

"Trust me, I know." Akira smirked as he descended the stairs into the Jazz Jin.

Akechi's Reiatsu flickered in irritation behind him, but after a moment's hesitation, the detective followed the other teen, just the way Akira knew he would. Akechi sat himself down primly and ordered a mocktail after a perfunctory glance at the night's menu. Akira, meanwhile, hemmed and hawed, before eventually proceeding to order the same drink himself. Something in Akechi's eyes twitched, and Akira relaxed into his chair, expression coy. I'm the one in control tonight, Akechi. Don't you dare forget it.

"Well, was that enough lollygagging for your tastes?" Akechi's grin was pointed as the waiter brought out their drinks.

"What, don't want to listen to the music first?" Akira idly gestured towards the band on stage, taking a sip from his drink.

Finally, Akechi's patience for Akira's power plays hit its limit. While his voice was still level, when he leaned in closer, his eyes were fundamentally unamused. "Need I remind you that you were the one who wanted to 'cut things to the chase'?"

"Fair, fair." Akira conceded. "Bakudō #26. Kyokkō."

A veil of light draped over them before fading into the ether, and for the first time since Akira met him, Akechi looked genuinely stunned. Vindictive satisfaction burst into the frizzy-haired teen's chest. You really thought I wouldn't, would you? Well, think again.

"Relax." He stretched idly. "It's just a concealment spell. I wouldn't want this conversation to get interrupted, after all."

"… I'm surprised. I didn't think you'd reveal your hand so soon." Akechi murmured, rubbing his chin.

Akira shrugged, the grin dropping off his face. "What even is there to reveal? You know I'm the leader of the Phantoms. I know you're the White-Masked Killer. So, let's stop pussyfooting around and have a conversation like proper adults."

"We're teenagers." Akechi pointed out mildly, like Akira hadn't just confessed to assault, defamation, and vandalism while simultaneously accusing him of mass murder.

The Shinigami shrugged. "And? That doesn't mean we should act like a bunch of middle-schoolers."

"I wouldn't describe anything about the Vanishing Incidents as adolescent." Akechi swirled his straw, a hint of danger in his eyes. "Tell me, how on earth did you jump to that conclusion?"

A dark grin spread across Akira's face. "You're not as smart as you think you are, Akechi."

Judging by the ugly grimace that crossed the Detective Prince's face, if only for a split second, Akira had hit a nerve. Finally, the mask comes off. Still, considering why Akira was here, he couldn't antagonise Akechi too much.

"It's your Reiatsu." Akira explained, deciding to bite the bullet. Instead of quashing it down, he embraced the darkness slumbering in his Reiryoku. The skin on his face tickled, and when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the corner of his glass, his sclera was black. "It's just a little bit too much like mine."

Akechi's lips thinned as he regarded Akira warily. "… Why are you telling me this?"

Akira let his Reiatsu die down as he lounged back again. "I want to make a deal with you."

Curiosity flickered in Akechi's eyes. Yet again, Akira had blindsided him. "Excuse me?"

"It's simple. I'll take the heat for both the Phantoms and the Vanishing Incidents by... let's say winter's end. In return, you'll ensure that my friends stay safe and free, and tell me how to control this." He tapped at his eye, which was only just beginning to return to its default white.

Akechi tilted his head. "… An interesting proposition, but riddle me this." He smiled, but it wasn't the picture-perfect expression he showed to the public. Instead, the detective's smirk was all teeth. "If I'm what you expect me to be, why don't I just kill you now and be done with it?"

Akira crossed his arms, bemused. "Now, now. You're smart enough to know why that isn't an option. After all, you said it yourself – you don't want the Soul Society's attention. Kill me, and they'll come crashing down on your head - where the hell do you think Rukia actually is?" All hint of levity dropped off his face. "Besides, I'm stronger now than I was when that Menos attacked. I might not win, but I'm powerful enough to make you earn it. Is that really a risk you want to take?"

Akechi's expression was perfectly bland. "Throwing my own words back at me now, are you…? I suppose I have to admit that it's an intriguing proposition, if not a foolhardy one. Tell me, who else knows about my identity? It's hardly worth you taking the fall for me if it's just going to end up with your stupid little followers throwing me back into the crosshairs."

He barely resisted snorting. Sure, that was totally the reason why Akechi wanted to know who Akira had blabbed to. Still, it was worth answering, if only to reinforce the fact that Akira was untouchable.

"Don't worry – none of the Phantoms know. They'd hardly let me come here if they did. Only my Soul Society contacts and a few local spirits are aware of who you are." A slight lie, but not entirely false. A frown then crossed Akira's face. Guilt flickered in his chest, but he needed Akechi to accept his deal. "… Niijima Sae is also aware you're the White-Masked Killer, though I think she's still in denial. If I were you, I'd keep any spiritual shenanigans around her to a minimum."

Akechi rolled his eyes. "Oh, come off it. Niijima Sae? I've never met anyone with less Reiatsu in my life!"

Akira merely arched a brow at that.

"… Fuck." Akechi grimaced, finally putting two-and-two together. "I suppose that explains why she walked straight through a Whole one time. Nobody does that."

Akira rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry, she did what now?"

"You heard." Akechi's expression turned long-suffering. "She didn't even flinch."

"… Yikes." Akira shuddered. He knew Sae went through a pretending-the-spiritual-world-didn't-exist-phase, but fucking hell.

For a moment, they commiserated in silence over Sae's uniquely unhinged behaviour. Akechi brought it crashing to an end, however, as he drummed his fingers against the table, expression cold. The shift in his Reiatsu was as stark as night and day – one second, it was a sterile light glowing among the sea of souls, and the next, it was an empty void dripping with darkness.

"I'll accept your deal, Kurusu, but I have conditions of my own. Attempting to control your inner Hollow is dangerous – I want full assurances that if things go wrong, it won't be traced back to me."

Akira nodded. "Not a problem. The Phantoms know about my Hollow situation – if I end up turning into a mindless beast, they'll probably just think my luck has finally run out. If we keep things out of Shibuya, they won't even realise I'm with you."

Akechi shifted slightly, seemingly content. "Secondly, winter's end is too late. I want you to turn yourself in mid-November."

"Get real – that's way too soon." Akira scoffed. Aizen's forces probably wouldn't even be here by then. "If you want to compromise, I'll do the end of the year."

Crossing his arms, a flicker of irritation spread over the detective's face. "30th November. Take it or leave it – I'm not going to negotiate any later than that."

Flaring his nostrils, Akira buried his annoyance – it wasn't like he had much choice. "Fine." He offered the other boy his hand. "It's a deal."

"Very well then!" Akechi grinned, disgustingly saccharine. "I look forward to working at your side, Kurusu."

As they shook hands, both boys wore their smiles like masks, and behind Akechi's calculating eyes, Akira saw a perfect reflection of his own lies. It was a promise neither of them intended to uphold – the only question was, who would break it first?

…..

As the train slowly chugged its way to Karakura, Makoto couldn't help but feel unusually pessimistic. When she ran into Akira yesterday, he was oddly evasive about where he'd gone off to Thursday evening, but there was a spring in his step she hadn't seen in a long time. It looked like her assumption that he'd figured out how to manage his Hollow problem was correct. Ryuji had also perked up significantly compared to his dour mood during their dinner together, though unlike Akira, he was open to why. Apparently, Futaba had been working on a project that was sure to give him an edge. As happy as she was for them, it was a stark reminder that she and Uryū were the only ones now who had no sure-fire way to prepare themselves for Aizen's invasion.

"Are you okay? I haven't seen you look that pensive in a while." Ann frowned. They'd taken the train together – the blonde was going to the Urahara Shōten to start her Bankai training this afternoon.

Makoto forced a smile. "Sorry – I guess I'm just a bit worried Uryū and I won't come up with anything."

Ann patted her shoulders sympathetically. "No way - you and Uryū are both super smart. There's no way you won't figure something out!"

Her expression grew a bit more sincere at her friend's praise. "Thank you, Ann."

As the girls hopped off the train, the bespectacled Quincy was waiting for them. It was the first time Makoto had seen the other teenager in his winter uniform. Uryū wore a plain grey jacket with red lining over his shirt – all in all, it was rather drab compared to Shujin's colourful uniform. As he caught sight of her, he adjusted his glasses.

"Makoto, Ann." He nodded in greeting.

"Hey!" Ann grinned. "Good luck – I'd love to stay and catch up, but I promised Urahara I'd be there ASAP!"

"No worries." Uryū shrugged. "I hope your training goes well too."

The blonde gave them one last smile before hurrying away in the direction of Urahara's store. Once she'd left, Uryū turned back to Makoto.

"Happy to walk and talk?" He suggested. "My apartment's far too cramped to spend any prolonged amount of time in, and I've got a few small errands I need to run."

Makoto nodded. "Sure – some fresh air might do me good."

As they left the small station and entered Karakura proper, Makoto examined the city streets. It was a lot less congested than the Shibuya ward – she could walk down the street without bumping shoulders with strangers, and barely any cars trundled down the roads. The houses were also larger than most she saw in her local area, with every second property having its own small garden. Even the residential Yongen-Jaya area wasn't quite this livable – Makoto had barely even seen a hint of green during her numerous visits to Leblanc. A wave of gloom settled over her like a shroud – it was little wonder Uryū was so upset by Aizen's machinations - if he succeeded, all of this would be destroyed.

"Where to first?" She asked.

A chuffed grin spread across his face. "The craft store. I need more white thread – I'm working on my new Quincy uniform."

Ah, yes – she remembered Uryū had mentioned he wanted to update his outfit. "How did you get into sewing to begin with?" Makoto asked, curious. "It's not a hobby common among boys our age."

"It's something my mother taught me when I was young." Uryū's smile softened. "On rainy days, I'd sit on her lap and she'd show me how to stitch. It was a skill she thought everyone should know, and I took to it like a Quincy to archery."

She couldn't help but reminisce at his words. "She was probably right – god knows my father despaired over mine and Sae's lack of domestic abilities. Unfortunately for him, we were both more into martial arts and motorbikes than playing housewife. Now that I'm older though, I can see where he was coming from – being able to maintain a home is an important skill."

"Perhaps you're not much of a seamstress, but you're decent enough at cooking, even if you're no Akira." Uryū pointed out.

Makoto laughed. "That's only because Sae's just that bad at it – I think I can count the number of actually edible meals she's made on one hand. If I didn't figure out how the kitchen worked, we'd be living off takeaways."

While the light-hearted discussion lifted some of the weight from her shoulders, Makoto would be brought back down to reality soon enough. As they entered Karakura's main shopping district, the brunette immediately noticed a section of the street was cordoned off by orange tape. Looking closely, she frowned as she saw a small crater in the sidewalk. Her fears were confirmed a second later when she sensed the faint miasma of a Hollow's Reiatsu – it must have gotten damaged in the Arrancar attack.

"So, you said you have a couple of ideas on how we could further develop our skills?" Makoto asked tersely as they stepped into the craft store.

Uryū strode towards a shelf with all the familiarity of one who'd done this a hundred times before. "Yes. Sae-san's Vollständig is very similar to another Quincy technique, Letzt Stil. When activated, it amplifies a Quincy's ability to channel Reishi a hundredfold. To achieve it, one must train for a week wearing a Sanrei Glove – a device that naturally repels Reishi."

Makoto perked up – even if she couldn't channel Reishi herself, perhaps she could brute force it like she did with Blut? At the same time, her hope quickly dimmed as she remembered his words from several nights ago.

"… So, what's the drawback?"

Picking up several spools of thread, he sighed. "It's in the name – it means 'last style'. If you remove the Sanrei Glove and enter Letzt Stil, the influx of Reishi is so great, it permanently destroys a Quincy's ability to channel Reishi."

Her eyes widened to the size of moons as she inhaled sharply. "Uryū, you can't do that!"

The other teen suddenly looked so, so tired. "I don't think I necessarily have much choice. Even training with the Sanrei Glove alone would notably improve my powers, Letzt Stil or not."

"I… I can't accept that." Makoto frowned deeply.

The thought of potentially losing her spiritual powers was terrifying - while she knew her friends would stay at her side regardless, her powers had been what had connected her to them in the first place. Without them, things would never quite be the same. Makoto's abilities were also her strongest connection to her deceased parents, and Uryū's to the Quincies' dwindling culture.

"Uryū, your powers are what connects you to your people, your past. If you lost them…"

"They're not worth one hundred thousand lives, Makoto." He replied, voice drenched with misery.

"That's not the only reason." She shook her head. "Let's be practical here – this isn't a duel, but a war. If you lose your abilities in the middle of a battlefield, you'd be a sitting duck."

Uryū looked pained, all thoughts of shopping discarded. "I… suppose that's correct, but… Letzt Stil is the only thing in my grandfather's notes that could possibly turn the tide."

"Dammit…" Makoto hissed, clenching her fists. Was that really it? Had they hit a dead end so soon?

"… There is one other option though." Uryū took a deep breath in. "Remember how my father approached me the day the Arrancar attacked?"

Slowly, Makoto nodded.

"He made me an offer – he'd help me hone my skills as a Quincy in exchange for me never associating with the Phantoms or the Shinigami again. I could always pretend I had a change of heart." His lips thinned. "Ryūken might buy it- god knows he's terrible at judging my character."

Unease prickled in her chest. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I don't know the specifics of your relationship, but…"

Uryū squared his shoulders. "He's never been physically violent towards me, if that's what you're worried about. It's his demeanour that's the problem." The light in his eyes dimmed. "He'd always been distant from his Quincy heritage, but only started to openly disparage it after my mother's death. Ryūken would sneer whenever the Quincy were bought up, mocking them for being naïve do-gooders with no consideration for their futures. He said I was pathetic for ever wanting to follow in their footsteps."

Makoto's stomach twisted and she gave his shoulder a gentle pat. Something in Uryū's face softened, if only for a moment. It didn't last long though, and venom quickly leaked back into his voice as he continued his tale.

"After my Master died – his father – do you know how he reacted? He said he deserved it - that it was his fault for being stupid enough to try and protect people from Hollows to begin with. I refused to be in the same room as him after that. In the end, Ryūken ran out of patience and sent me off to an old investment property the family had bought years ago. I didn't mind – I was glad to be rid of him." As he finished his tirade, Uryū glared at the floor. "I hate Ryūken, but he's not a threat – he's just your typical bitter old man. I can put up with him for this."

Even though he was clearly trying to play it down, the pain in Uryū's voice was almost tangible. Makoto's heart broke for him. She remembered how horrible she'd felt the night Sae had lashed out at her when she asked what their father would have thought of the Phantoms. Her sister's words had haunted her for days, and that was when Sae had immediately apologised for them. To face that sort of verbal abuse for years on end, without a hint of remorse in sight? She didn't think it was any less cruel than if Ryūken had been physically violent.

"I… I'm still not comfortable about this." Makoto bit her lip. "You shouldn't have to put up with him at all."

Stressed, Uryū swept a hand through his hair. "Do we really have any choice?"

Makoto pursed her lips, a leaden weight in her guts - she had nothing to say in return.

Suddenly, someone cleared their throat, and both Quincies half jumped out of their skin. Whirling around, Makoto saw that two girls were watching them. They were both donned in Karakura High's grey uniform - one was curvy with auburn hair, and the other was wirier with her spikey black hair cut short. There was one other similarity between them, however – they both looked exhausted. Their skin was wan, and there was something about the way they carried themselves that felt wounded, for lack of a better word.

"Ishida-kun? Is everything okay?" The red-haired girl asked, chestnut eyes brimming with concern.

"You've been standing in front of the shelf for five minutes." The other one pointed out laconically.

Makoto blushed – they'd gotten so caught up in their discussion, that they'd entirely forgotten they were in the middle of a store.

"Ah, m-my apologies!" Uryū quickly shoved up his glasses, clearly as flustered as the student council president was. "I didn't mean to get in your way."

"Oh, no, that's alright!" The redhead waved her hands, also growing flushed, before she shot Makoto a curious look. "Who's your friend, Ishida-kun? I don't think I've seen that uniform before." She then gave her a thumbs up. "It's very stylish!"

"Makoto's a distant cousin of mine." Uryū explained. "She's from Shibuya. Makoto, these are Inoue Orihime and Arisawa Tatsuki. They're classmates of mine."

Her stomach panged as she realised why both girls seemed so out of sorts. They must have been friends with the boy who died.

"Niijima Makoto – it's a pleasure to meet you." She bowed politely. "Please, accept my condolences. Uryū told me about, well…"

"It's alright." Arisawa shrugged her off before wincing. "Well, I mean, it's not alright, but… sometimes, bad shit just happens."

Inoue tilted her head, lips pursed. "… Back to what I said before, are you alright, Ishida-kun? It's not like you to get so distracted."

"Yeah." Arisawa's frown deepened. "It kinda sounded like you were talking about some pretty heavy stuff."

Makoto cringed. She should have known better than to have a conversation like that in the middle of a craft store.

"It's nothing, really." Uryū rubbed the back of his head. "Just some family drama."

Inoue tilted her head, and her next statement hit Makoto like a bludgeon. "Is this about the Phantoms?"

Uryū wheezed, choking, and Makoto felt the blood drain from her face.

"Uh, no?!" She squeaked, voice rising an octave as panic fluttered in her chest. The second the words left her mouth, the brunette cringed. Pull yourself together – that lie was atrocious! What are you, Ann?

Arisawa whirled around to face Inoue, gawping. "I'm sorry – are you saying that Ishida Uryū is a Phantom?!"

"Well, it's fairly obvious." The redhead shrugged mildly. "If Ishida-kun wasn't a Phantom, why would he feel guilty about what happened to Kurosaki-kun? Plus, there's something about his presence that reminds me of Kurosaki-kun, along with that blond boy who saved us from the monster."

"Blond boy…?" Uryū's lips curled in displeasure. "Fucking Sakamoto."

Makoto sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Then again, it wasn't like she could be that annoyed with Ryuji – Inoue was clearly spiritually sensitive to some degree, and it was Makoto's flustered response that had tipped Arisawa off.

Arisawa examined Uryū. "You're really a Phantom? Huh. I always kinda thought you were a nerd. Didn't really peg vigilante monster-hunting as your sort of thing."

Uryū sighed, rubbing his temple. "It's complicated. I'm more focused on the latter, and less on the former - that's more Makoto's thing."

"Perhaps we should take this conversation elsewhere." Makoto winced. "God knows we don't need even more people overhearing us."

…..

They eventually settled down in a small booth at the far end of a diner after Uryū and Inoue paid for their sewing supplies. Makoto ordered some boba tea, while Uryū got a coffee, and Inoue and Arisawa a donut and soda respectively. Drumming her fingers on the table, she quickly scanned the room. Thankfully, the coast was clear – the only other customers were seated right by the entrance, and the soft tune they were playing over the speakers would muffle their voices anyway.

Leaning in closer, Makoto addressed the girls. "I can't give you the full details for obvious reasons, but… most of the time, when those monsters appear, it's random. Lately, though, someone has taken control of them – a dangerous man who's obsessed with Karakura."

Arisawa gasped. "Is that why…?"

Grimly, the brunette exchanged a glance with Uryū, who nodded. "Yes – he was the reason both yourselves and Kurosaki were attacked that day."

"The absolute fucking bastard!" Arisawa's face flushed red as she trembled with anger.

"Unfortunately, it gets worse." Uryū sighed. "That was only a small raiding party – he intends to strike again with the full might of his army."

Both Inoue and Arisawa paled at the Quincy's words, and Makoto quickly stepped in to reassure them. "We have allies helping us – in fact, the Phantoms are just a small offshoot of a greater whole. There are plenty more monster-hunters out there, many of whom are far stronger than we are. Still… we want to help, and to do that, we have to get stronger."

"My father knows a lot about… monster hunting, for lack of a better term, but he finds the whole concept disdainful." Uryū wrinkled his nose. "He'll only agree to teach me if I agree to disassociate myself from my friends. I have no qualms lying to him in order to gain access to his knowledge, but…"

"But I don't think Uryū should spend any time in his father's presence, as he's a fundamentally repugnant person." Makoto finished.

Arisawa nodded, slowly digesting the information as Inoue tapped her chin.

"I know!" The redhead exclaimed, perking up. "Why don't you sneak in and steal all his monster hunting books, like – like Phantoms! If he's so terrible, he doesn't deserve to have ancient tomes and silver guns and big swords anyway!" Her expression grew wistful. "Having a big sword would be so cool..."

Makoto blinked, startled by Inoue's sudden exuberance. Furrowing her brows, she turned to face Uryū. "Would Ryūken have anything like that lying around?"

"Actually… he might." Uryū rubbed his chin, eyes wide in surprise. "Given Ryūken views himself as the last, uh, the last of our line, he's bound to have some of my Master's more advanced texts squirrelled away somewhere. If we can get our hands on those, maybe they'll hold the answers we seek."

"Hey, if there's anything I can do to help, let me know." Arisawa offered. "I might not know much about supernatural monsters or breaking and entering, but I'm quick on my feet and pack a mean right hook."

"Yeah!" Inoue beamed. "I've always wanted to be a classy cat burglar, raiding a mansion in the dead of the night!"

"… Honestly, a mansion's not too far off the mark." Uryū murmured, looking mildly put out. The Quincy quickly collected himself, however, and rose to his feet. "I think I need to put my head down and gather my thoughts for a bit. Once I have a better idea of how we should tackle things, I'll message all of you, okay?"

"That sounds perfectly acceptable, Uryū." Makoto nodded, lips creeping up into a smile.

For the first time since Rukia's warning, the hope that flickered into her chest didn't immediately kindle and die.

…..

Bouncing on her heels, Ann opened the doors to the Urahara Shōten. "I'm here!"

Despite running all the way from the station to the store, she wasn't winded at all. Ann wasn't sure if it was because she'd significantly increased the amount of exercise she did once she joined the Phantoms, or whether it was because of the excitement coursing through her veins. After all, her Bankai was so close, she could almost taste it.

Urahara was behind the counter, and he shot her a beaming grin as the two kids who worked in the store part-time bickered over the chores. "Ah, perfect timing, Takamaki-chan. Ururu, you're in charge."

The short girl with pigtails nodded as the redheaded boy next to her scowled, but Ann didn't have the time to pay them further heed as Urahara quickly hurried her away in the direction of the underground training room. The shopkeeper passed her a Soul Candy dispenser, and shaking out a pill, Ann swallowed it and was promptly shoved out of her body.

The blonde's body staggered, before jumping into the air and flashing her a peace sign. "I'm Chappy, Pyon! What would you like me to do, master?"

Ann shuddered, suddenly immensely grateful that they hadn't planned on sending the thing to school - she'd spun Kawakami a tale about a far-away photo shoot, and while the teacher hadn't been happy, she'd let Ann take a couple of days off. I'm sorry for ever criticising you, Morgana.

"Just sit in the corner and stay out of trouble." She sighed as she addressed the Chappy. "Oh, and eat and sleep and use the bathroom if you need to." She didn't know how smart it was, but she was pretty sure the answer was 'not very'.

By the time Ann had finished addressing the Soul Candy, Urahara had opened the trapdoor.

"After you, Takamaki-chan." He gestured at the dark void.

Grabbing the ladder's side, she simply slid down – Ann couldn't be bothered dealing with all those steps again. As she descended into the basement, the blonde noted the underground chamber hadn't changed at all since she was last there. The rugged expanse went on as far as the eye could see, and pale clouds drifted lazily overhead.

As she hopped off the ladder, Ann noticed she wasn't alone. Yoruichi was there, already in her human form. At her side, she held a strange, flat white object which was vaguely humanoid in shape, and nearly the shapeshifter's height.

"Hey." The dark-skinned woman shot her a feline grin. "Long time, no see, Ann."

"How are things going?" The blonde smiled, strolling over to her side - it had probably been at least a month since Ann had talked to her.

"Busy, busy." Yoruichi waved a hand dismissively. "Not as busy as Urahara, mind you. He's been collaborating with the 12th to develop a way to safely evacuate Karakura when the time finally arrives."

Ann nodded, a wave of relief running through her. It would be much easier to fight Aizen's army if she didn't have to worry about any civilians getting caught in the crossfire. Actually… Ann narrowed her eyes. Now that she thought about it, Urahara was taking an awfully long time to get here.

"… He's not coming, is he?" Ann pouted.

"Nope." Yoruichi popped the 'p'. "It'll just be you and me today. Don't worry – I've seen this done before. Who do you think supervised Kisuke when he did this himself?"

Ann shrugged – Yoruichi, Urahara, she supposed it didn't really matter who taught her Bankai as long as it happened. Approaching the device, she looked at it curiously. "What is that, anyway?"

"It's a Tenshintai – pierce it with your Zanpakutō, and it'll forcibly manifest your spirit into the physical world." The Shinigami explained. "If you can force Shinkubi to submit in three days, she'll give you your Bankai's name. If not…"

Ann grimaced. "… I don't get Bankai, ever." While Urahara hadn't stated it so plainly, the cost was obvious.

Yoruichi gave her a curt nod. "Exactly. So, are you ready? This is your last chance to back out."

"I'm ready." Ann squared her shoulders, voice firm. There was no room for doubt now – this was the only way she could gain the strength she needed to face the Arrancar, and she would not fail.

Unsheathing her Zanpakutō, she took in one last deep breath before plunging it into the Tenshintai. The device sizzled for a moment, before both it and her Zanpakutō shattered into a thousand pieces. Yelping, Ann leapt back, watching warily as the fragments swirled together. They caught alight, forming a vortex of flame that dispersed to reveal Shinkubi. Normally, the sight of her Zanpakutō spirit would reassure Ann, but as the woman straightened her spine and stared down at the blonde with a haughty expression, she felt nothing but unease.

"… How hasty, Ann." Shinkubi purred, not a trace of amusement in her voice. "Tell me, why would you throw the life you value so dearly away on a silly stunt like this?"

Ann narrowed her eyes, on guard. "I'm not throwing anything away. Like I told you, I'm going to live my life to the fullest, and that means I need to get my Bankai right here, and right now!"

Shinkubi's lips curled and the spirit withdrew a cigar from one of her dress's folds, lighting the end with a tap of her finger. "Very well – prove to me how strong your convictions truly are!"

Yoruichi shunpoed out of the way as Shinkubi clapped her hands together, and a blazing spiral of fire suddenly burst out from the spirit. Ann didn't even have the time to blink before the flames raced towards her. Instead of burning Ann, however, they parted around her, before slowing to a stop. Spinning around, Ann blanched as she saw she and her Zanpakutō had been cut off from the rest of the training grounds by a ginormous wall of fire. The earth had been scorched and seared in the fire's wake, the parched dirt cracked with fissures that glowed with molten heat. Sporadic patches of flame dotted the landscape, burning into the heavens - Ann knew with utmost certainty there was no leaving unless Shinkubi allowed it.

Shinkubi paced across their makeshift arena like a prowling feline before reaching into a column of flame. Grabbing hold of something, the Zanpakutō pulled it out of the fiery glow with a mighty tug. Ann blinked when she saw it was a chain, her expression morphing into a gape when she saw what was attached to its end. From the fire stumbled a humanoid creature made of glowing embers, and as Shinkubi dropped the chain that wrapped around its neck, the warped blob that was the being's head slowly twisted in Ann's direction. The blonde shuddered, instantly getting some horror-movie vibes. Instead of gargling and groaning, however, the only sound that emanated from it was a fiery crackle.

"Go." Shinkubi ordered, flicking her hand in Ann's direction. "Feast to your heart's content."

Ann took a step back, blood running cold despite the heat, as the monster shambled in her direction far too quickly. Clenching her fists, her eyes narrowed to slits. There was no way she'd be able to take it on in a fistfight given it was almost twice her height and made of fire, and for obvious reasons, her Zanpakutō was not an option. So, she had only one choice left. It was a good one, however.

"Bakudō #81. Dankū!" Ann chanted, a translucent barrier forming between her and the beast.

She held back from attacking – the blonde wanted to get a good gauge of its strength before she wasted any Reiryoku. God knows how long she'd be trapped here. The creature smashed into the barrier, which didn't even shudder under its assault. Ann's brief flicker of hope only lasted for a moment, however – the monster pressed its body against the spell, which slowly began to disintegrate under its heat.

Damn – a shield can stall it, but not stop it. On the bright side though, it didn't seem that strong. Pointing a finger at the creature, she recited the full incantation for a Byakurai while the monster finished eating its way through her Danku. By the time the barrier finally crumbled and the monster lurched forward, Ann was ready. A blinding bolt of white lightning shot from the tip of her fingers, blasting the fire-beast's head right off its shoulders.

Her triumph was short-lived, however. The embers scattered by her attack quickly drifted back together, reforming the being's head. Cursing, Ann shunpoed backwards, putting some space between her and the beast - her attack had been even less effective than her barrier.

"I think it's time to up the heat here." Shinkubi's eyes glittered malevolently as she smirked.

"Puns?" Ann gawped. "Seriously? At a time like this?!"

Shinkubi merely grinned as she dragged two more fire-beasts out of one of the burning geysers pocketing the land. As they started shambling in her direction, Ann cursed. Darting away from her current position, she put herself equidistant between both gaggles of monsters, mind racing. Maybe it's just the Byakurai that didn't work – lightning's kinda similar to fire, right?

"Hadō #1. Shō!" She cast, and while the spell pushed back the monster she targeted, it was otherwise unfazed. Desperation mounting, this time, Ann directed her spell at the two monsters shambling together. "Hadō #58. Tenran!"

A ball of air swirled in her hand, picking up speed and power until it was a small gale. Pushing out her palm, the tornado-like blast spiralled straight into the fire-beasts. The wind stretched and warped the flames that made up their bodies, but dread welled up in Ann's stomach as they quickly returned to their default forms.

The blonde experimented with a few more spells, but it was for naught. Her Hadō knocked back but failed to break the monsters, her barriers were devoured, and seals eventually burnt through. Calm down! She hissed to herself as her latest attempt at paralysing the beasts was shrugged off in seconds. This can't be an impossible task – there HAS to be a way to beat them!

Flickering away from the fire-beasts in a flash of shunpo, Ann gritted her teeth as one of their blazing hands almost snapped around her leg. Scanning the arena desperately, her eyes settled on a stray rock. Running forward, she snatched up the projectile and hurtled it at the nearest monster with all her might. The flames didn't even flicker as the rock flew straight through its head. Her brow furrowed - she knew there was some trick to this, but Ann had no idea what it was. In the end, she was reduced to running away. She managed to stay clear of the monsters for perhaps half an hour, but the second her thighs began to burn, Shinkubi tilted her head dispassionately and conjured two more fire-beasts.

Dismay flooded through Ann at the new arrivals. Dodging three of them was bad enough, but five?! She took a deep breath in, hoping to soothe her racing heart, and sealed two of the monsters in a barrier. She then let the others get within an inch of her - so close she could feel their molten heat - before flashing away to the opposite end of the arena. There - that should at least give her some breathing space.

As each of the beasts swivelled to face her, the blonde took an instinctive step backwards. It was a bad idea – a yelp burst unbidden from her throat as a blistering heat lacerated her back. Staggering away, Ann swore, and a cursory glance over her shoulder revealed that she'd stumbled straight into the arena walls.

"Will you stop this foolish pursuit, my darling Ann?"

Shinkubi's voice snapped her straight out of her funk. There was too much on the line – she couldn't falter here!

"Of course not!" Ann snapped, determination renewed.

Mustering her resolve, she did the one thing she hadn't already tried. Flickering forward, she landed at one of the beast's feet and smashed her fist into its jaw. Luckily, her hand wasn't reduced to cinders – it tingled uncomfortably as she struck her foe, but her attack dispersed the flames that made its face and stopped them from biting into her skin. The monster staggered, but recovered quickly and grabbed Ann's arm. This time, her skin blistered and burned on contact, and tears sprung to her eyes as the fire-beast threw her halfway across the arena.

Rolling to a halt, Ann pushed herself upright, gasping for air as sweat dripped down her brow. Fingers glowing green with Kaidō - a welcome reprieve from the crimson hell she'd found herself in - the blonde soothed the worst of her wounds. As she staggered back to her feet, Ann's eyes caught on one of the spouts of fire that had burst from the broken earth. Inspiration hit her like a hammer. Of course! Shinkubi's powers are MY powers! If she can do something, I can do it too!

She reached into the flames, and while her hands grasped no infernal chains, the fire morphed under her fingertips. The sound of crackling flames grew uncomfortably loud as heat nipped at her back - one of the monsters must have reached her. Quickly twisting the flames she'd grabbed into a tight ball, Ann hurtled it towards the beast. It smashed straight through its chest, and while it didn't fell the monster, no fire moved back to fill in the hole in its torso.

Finally – that took me long enough!

Despite the massive step forward she had just taken, however, Ann was a long way off getting Shinkubi to do anything, let alone submit. Initially, the blonde couldn't do much more than make misshapen balls, but after buying herself a bit of time with several well-placed Dankus, she managed to mould the fire into the shape of a long knife. Ann swallowed - Shinkubi made this look easy. Still, the makeshift blade did its job – she slashed one of the monster's heads off its shoulders, and the creature burst into sparks, disappearing into the ether.

Unfortunately, her knife couldn't take the force of the blow and unravelled into mere embers, but Ann wasn't bothered - she knew she could always reforge it. Before she could put that to the test, however, Shinkubi disappeared in a puff of smoke, and the Tenshintai fell to the ground where she had once stood. Blinking owlishly, Ann gawped, stupefied, as the hellscape around her reverted back to the training grounds as if it had never been there.

"Alright!" Yoruichi's voice echoed across the basement. "Day one is over."

Ann gaped. "Wait, what?! I've only just gotten started!"

Yoruichi merely arched a brow as a sudden wave of exhaustion crashed into Ann with enough force to knock her off her feet. Her Reiatsu plummeted, and it was only then that she realised just how painfully low her Reiryoku was. As she landed on the ground, her body ached furiously, and dark spots began to fill her vision.

Walking to her side, Yoruichi helped the blonde to her feet. "Come, it's time to eat and get some rest. You've got a big day tomorrow."

…..

As she stepped off the train and strode into the Karakura station that Sunday morning, Makoto was already donned in her Phantoms gear. There was a new addition to her ensemble, however - a lightweight backpack rested over her shoulders in preparation for the day's heist. Uryū, Tatsuki, and Orihime were all waiting for her as she disembarked – the dark-haired girl had insisted they used first names over text last night considering they were going to be committing crimes together.

Uryū's Quincy regalia had been abandoned in favour of his school's gym uniform – they were trying to be sneaky, after all, and the rustling of all that fabric would only give them away. Meanwhile, Orihime's and Tatsuki's costumes were almost as extreme as Makoto's, if in a different way. She'd gotten some advice from her sister (not that Makoto had told Sae exactly why she was asking), and the two girls were wearing blazers and pencil skirts that would look perfectly at home in Karakura's local government office. Futaba had made some hastily put-together fake ID cards that would hopefully pass a cursory check, which Makoto handed to them as she joined the group. A clever application of makeup was the finishing touch to Orihime and Tatsuki's disguise – with the addition of a few wrinkle lines, they easily passed off as young clerks.

"Come on, let's go." Uryū's voice was clipped. "The sooner we get this done with, the better."

The Quincy led them through the town, the streets growing wider and the trees more numerous the closer they got to their destination. While Makoto was well aware they were in an affluent part of the town, nothing could have prepared her for seeing the Ishidas' ancestral home in the flesh. The second she set eyes on it from across the street, her jaw dropped. While Uryū had described the place as a mansion, she'd underestimated how literal he was being. A pristine white fence dotted with leafy ivy surrounded the compound, only broken by a large iron gate with spiked tips. Peering through the grille revealed a pale gravel road lined with trees that led straight towards a massive western-style villa. It was two stories high, with towers to the side and a stately façade that put Haru's opulent apartment to shame.

"Bloody hell, just how rich is your family?" Tatsuki gawped, and while Makoto wouldn't have said it so crassly, she agreed with the girl's sentiments.

Orihime's eyes were wide. "I can't believe people actually live here – it looks like it came straight out of a fairy tale!"

"A place of this size so close to Tokyo…" Makoto murmured. "The cost of the land alone would have been astronomical."

Uryū's lips thinned as he exhaled. "It would have been a sensible decision at the time it was built – the manor was designed to house several families at once, along with space for the staff and their kin. Now, it's just a glorified shrine for a single man."

At his statement, the atmosphere immediately grew more subdued as they remembered why they were there.

The Quincy cleared his throat, clearly not wanting to linger on the topic any longer. "Right – does everyone remember the plan?" Upon receiving a chorus of nods, he turned to Makoto. "Shall we?"

She swallowed. "I suppose there's no time like the present."

Together, the two Quincies slipped down a small alleyway at the manor's side, skirting the compound's fence. The ivy was thicker here, and an experimental tug proved it would support their weight. Uryū withdrew two vials of Gintō from his pocket as Makoto simultaneously began to chant. She sighed in relief as her Kyokkō spell settled over them – her Kidō was pretty hit and miss, but she'd managed to do the job. A moment later, Uryū's Mantel cast yet another layer of invisibility over them - hopefully, it would be enough to obscure them from Ryūken prying eyes.

Scaling the fence, they jumped into the garden, landing quietly on the grass. Makoto surveyed her surroundings as they approached the manor's left wing. Now that she was closer, it was evident the manor wasn't quite as pristine as it appeared. While there were the clear remnants of a vegetable garden, it had been torn out, leaving a swath of dirt pocketed with weeds. Spiderwebs hung in the corner of the mansion's windows, and as she peered inside, it was clear every flat surface was laden with dust.

Eventually, Uryū came to a halt under a window. "Do you have the lockpick ready?"

Makoto nodded, withdrawing the hairpin she'd altered last night. After returning the gesture, Uryū silently sent Tatsuki a message, and butterflies fluttered anxiously in the student council president's stomach. This was quite possibly the most important part of the plan, and definitely the most precarious. Tatsuki and Orihime would lure Ryūken out of his house and distract him by pretending to be local government workers here to organise a compulsory land survey, which would hopefully occupy the doctor long enough for the two Quincies to slip back in and out.

They were too far away from the manor's entrance to hear the sound of the doorbell, but slowly and surely, the faint cloud of Reiatsu lingering in the building began to move – it seemed the other girls had hit the switch. The second Ryūken's foot crunched down on the gravel, Uryū and Makoto exchanged one final glance - it was time for them to get to work.