Akira launched his grappling hook at the rubble of Las Noches and pulled himself into the air. Mid-flight, he shifted Tasogare no Dorobō into its sword form, and plummeting downwards, he pointed his blade straight at Ulquiorra's back. The winged Espada pivoted to face him, hurtling a javelin of pure Reiryoku at the teen. Akira barely managed to twist out of its way – if he was half a second slower, he would have been skewered. Despite the attack though, the teen hadn't been knocked off course - even Ulquiorra's armour wouldn't save him if Akira hit him at this velocity.
Unfortunately, the Espada had enough of his mind left to realise that too. Stretching his wings, Ulquiorra prepared to fly away, but the Arrancar was interrupted when a voice echoed through the air.
"Oh, no you don't!" Ann yelled, whirling Shinkubi around and using the whip like an improvised lasso.
Ulquiorra batted her Shikai away with ease, however, and embers scattered through the night sky. That didn't mean Ann's idea was bad though, and more importantly, she wasn't the only one who could implement it. Renji followed her heed, and Zabimaru lashed through the air, wrapping around the Espada and holding him in place.
Finally, Akira hit him with all the force of a meteor. His blade plunged downward, cleaving the armour and tearing right through Ulquiorra's collarbone. Tasogare no Dorobō was mere moments away from puncturing the Espada's heart, when an explosion of Reiatsu burst off the Arrancar, sending both him and Zabimaru flying. The wind whistled past Akira's ears, and the frizzy-haired teen was moments away from crashing into the sands when a pair of warm arms wrapped around him, cushioning his fall. Looking over his shoulder, he shot Makoto a grateful grin, the brunette gave him a confident nod in turn as she placed him on the ground.
While Shido's brainwashing had removed every trace of the Espada's personality, as the wound Akira inflicted on the Arrancar bubbled closed, Ulquiorra's expression could almost have been one of cold fury. Black energy crackled in the bat-like Espada's hands as he prepared another Cero Oscuras.
"Everyone, watch out!" Akira shouted. "One hit from that, and you're fucked!"
Ann reacted first, quickly casting a massive Dankū that covered most of the former throne room's remains. The beam of pitch-black energy smashed into it, but the barrier only lasted several seconds before shattering under Ulquiorra's onslaught. Akira shunpoed away from the blast, too busy ensuring his own survival to pay any heed to his friends for the moment. His lungs heaved for air and Akira's legs were burning by the time he finally came to a stop. Turning around, his heart started to race, but a wave of relief quickly fell over him. The time Ann bought had been enough for everyone to get to safety.
Instead of running, the blonde had shielded herself with a dozen smaller Dankū barriers, replacing them as quickly as Ulquiorra's attack destroyed them. While Ryuji was panting, the former athlete was well clear of the blast zone, Makoto at his side. Meanwhile, Uryū had disappeared from sight, but Akira could sense that his Reiatsu was both strong and calm. While Renji's Shihakushō had been scorched - the Captain clearly hadn't been quite as quick on his feet as the others - he was still standing, and had enough energy left to glare at Ulquiorra defiantly.
Unfortunately, as much as Akira would have liked a moment to catch his breath, that wasn't a luxury Ulquiorra would be willing to give them. The Espada flashed to Renji's side, another emerald lance already formed in his hand as he aimed to take the wounded Captain out for good. Ryuji lived up to his reputation of being the fastest sprinter amongst the Phantoms, however, and tackled the redhead out of the way. The two men tumbled onto the ground, but Ryuji managed to turn it into a roll and blasted a ball of lightning from Sorakaizoku's end. Ulquiorra batted it away with his wing, prepared to hurtle his lance at the boys, when Ann began to chant.
"Bakudō #62. Hyapporankan!"
A glowing rod of light formed in the blonde's hand, and as she threw it at Ulquiorra's back, it split into a hundred more beams, each smashing into the Espada. While most of the rods bounced harmlessly off the armour covering his body, the same couldn't be said about the Arrancar's exposed wings. The Kidō pierced the leathery membrane, pinning the Espada in place. He squirmed, the shafts of magic already beginning to shatter, but yet again, Ann had bought the Phantoms several precious seconds. Makoto flashed to his side, smashing a Blut and Shunkō powered punch into his torso, and Ulquiorra staggered backwards before toppling to the ground. The second he landed, the sands glowed blue.
The Mantel spell hiding Uryū from sight faded, and the Quincy adjusted his glasses. "Sprenger."
Ulquiorra got ready to fly away, clearly planning on repeating his escape from Uryū's spell, but this time, everyone was prepared. Ann cracked her whip, Shinkubi wrapping around one wing, while Zabimaru ensnared the other. The Espada batted both Shikais away, but Akira simply took their place. Swirling Tasogare no Dorobō's chain around like it was a lasso, he hurtled the dagger towards the Espada and managed to bind him in place just long enough for Uryū's spell to ignite. A column of blue Reishi soared into the stratosphere, engulfing Ulquiorra in his entirety. While Akira couldn't see his enemy, the ocean of Arrancar Reiatsu surrounding them began to abate, and for the first time in a while, the Shinigami could breathe without his lungs feeling like they were being crushed.
"Did we do it?" Ryuji asked, brows furrowed.
He got his answer soon enough. As the light of the Sprenger faded, Akira could see a figure hunched on the floor. Ulquiorra's armour had been all but disintegrated, and what was left of his uniform was in tatters. Burns and blisters lacerated the Espada's skin, and his wings were so shredded they were practically nothing but bone. While the Arrancar still breathed, and the wounds lacing his skin slowly started to sizzle closed, the rate of his regeneration was dismal compared to what it had been before.
Akira was certain they'd won until Ulquiorra's low voice echoed across the desert's sands. "Resurrección: Segunda Etapa."
A spiral of black Reiatsu engulfed him, and Akira could do nothing but watch in horror as Ulquiorra's body shifted yet again.
…..
Exhaustion and relief in equal measures duelled in Shunsui as he finally finished off the Espada he was battling, the man's body falling to the streets below before dispersing into motes of Reishi. Unfortunately, his sense of triumph was short-lived. It happened so quickly – Ennetsu Jigoku's columns of flames engulfed the town, and Yamamoto's Reiatsu spiked. The fire then suddenly disappeared, before an explosion rocked the town and the Captain Commander's Reiatsu began to fall lower and lower and lower.
Old man Yama?! Shunsui inhaled sharply, eyes wide as he turned in the direction of his mentor.
It was impossible – Yamamoto was the strongest Shinigami in the Seireitei and wielder of the most powerful fire-type Zanpakutō in history. The old man had been the first and only Captain Commander of the Gotei 13, and had been undefeated since time immemorial. And yet, Shunsui couldn't deny what had just happened right before his eyes.
Somehow, Yamamoto had fallen.
Hitsugaya must have been equally as taken off-guard as Shunsui was, as the boy's Reiatsu suddenly spiked. The Arrancar he was facing's power skyrocketed in turn, and it was easy enough to guess what had happened when the cold frost of Hitsugaya's Reiatsu began to fade away. Body aching and bloody, Shunsui stared up at the sky where Ichimaru, Akechi, Shido, and Aizen all remained, fresh for the fight.
A wry chuckle escaped the Captain's throat. "We're in a spot of bother, aren't we, Kenpachi-san?"
Behind him, Shunsui heard the sound of a blade tearing out of flesh. Turning around, he calmly observed the rugged mountain of a man's approach, a sea of corpses in his wake. While Kenpachi was splattered with blood, it was clear most of it didn't belong to him.
"No Yachiru?" The senior Captain raised a brow.
"Tch. She's off guarding those deadweights." Kenpachi sneered, jabbing a finger derogatively in the direction of Unohana's temporary medical bay.
Speaking of the devil herself, the 4th Division Captain suddenly appeared at their side in a flash of shunpo, and Shunsui couldn't help but feel a flicker of surprise - it had been many a century since he last saw Unohana enter an active combat zone. The flamboyant Captain pursed his lips, and desperately wished he hadn't lost his hat in the fray – he felt exposed without it. I suppose if any situation calls for her presence, it's now.
Instead of reaching for her blade, however, Unohana walked to his side and quickly healed the hole in his shoulder. The aching pain wracking Shunsui's body began to abate, and as his Reiryoku reserves were restored, the Captain felt like a whole new man.
"Thank you, Senpai." He grinned. "I'm surprised to see you out and about – want to take down Aizen with me? We can call it a date."
If Unohana was the sort of person to roll her eyes, she would have done so right there and then. Instead, she gave him a disapproving frown that sent a shudder running down his spine. "Isane is capable of treating everyone in the emergency relief camp herself, but we still have many critically injured allies on the battlefield. That's why I'm here – nothing more, nothing less."
Shunsui grimaced. Soifon, Hitsugaya… and the old man himself.
Kenpachi scoffed, clearly itching to get back into the fray. Before he could leave, however, a flicker of Reiatsu started to rapidly approach them. Shunsui exchanged a puzzled glance with Unohana – it was Lieutenant Kotetsu. While he knew the girl was a skilled healer, there was no way in hell she'd managed to patch up half a dozen nearly dead Shinigami in that little time.
"Isane." Unohana's voice was mildly reproaching as her Lieutenant landed by their side. "Why have you left the relief station?"
The woman was so rattled, she didn't even flinch at Unohana's admonishment. "Captain, we've got a situation!" Kotetsu's skin was as pale as a sheet as she swallowed. "You have to see this for yourself!"
Guiding them to the top of a nearby roof, the grey-haired woman pointed into the distance. Apprehension tingled in his stomach as Shunsui looked beyond the barrier sealing the now not-so-false Karakura from the rest of Japan. When he saw just what had unnerved the Lieutenant, his heart caught in his throat.
Marching towards the empty Karakura Town were thousands upon thousands of people.
…..
Several of Leblanc's regulars rose to their feet in perfect sync, before monotonously shuffling out of the coffeeshop without another word. Sojiro was so caught off-guard by the strange occurrence that he could do nothing but gawp.
"Hey!" He yelled, charging out after them. "I know you frequent this place, but that doesn't mean you can't pay!"
Sure, he cared more about the art of coffee than he did turning a buck, but the barista still had bills to pay – his government pension didn't quite cover all of them. Storming up to the nearest customer – a pompous man who always drove him nuts – Sojiro tapped him on the shoulder. While the man swayed at the touch, he didn't turn around and continued his shuffling walk into the distance. Anger bubbled in Sojiro's chest, and he reached for the regular's shoulder yet again, but a sudden shout made him pause.
"W-wait! Where on earth are you going?!"
Blinking, he stared down the street and saw a wide-eyed Doctor Takemi stumble out of her clinic, mouth half hanging open. Walking away from her was an expressionless woman with a syringe half-full of blood sticking out of her shoulder.
Sojiro rubbed his eyes, annoyance quickly fading into confusion. A quick glance was all it took to see it wasn't just his regulars and Takemi's patient who'd lost their minds. The roads of Yogen-Jaya were filled with all sorts of people – men, women, children – who were marching towards some unknown destination unblinkingly.
"Oi, Takemi!" He called out, striding towards the only other person who seemingly still had all of their marbles. "What the hell is going on here?!"
"I don't know!" The doctor threw her hands up into the air, before letting out a curse and whipping out her phone. Dialling a number, her lips thinned in consternation. "Hey, Niijima? It's Takemi speaking. I know I promised not to pry about… certain things, but something very, very weird is happening here…"
…..
Kawakami Sadayo had been having a good afternoon, right up until the point she suddenly wasn't. With the emotional weight of Takase's death and the resulting blackmail lifted from her shoulders, she'd managed to rediscover her forgotten love for the art of teaching. Finally, Sadayo could put more than a cursory effort into marking homework, and actually offer individual support based on her student's needs. For the first time in years, when she taught her classes, the woman was alert, engaged, and passionate. Suffice to say, it was a far cry from the Kawakami-sensei of the past.
As the woman left her classroom, she didn't immediately notice something was wrong. The school was always packed at this time of day, with throngs of students either heading home or to their clubs. Perhaps the halls were slightly more cramped than usual, but that was hardly alarming. The second she walked out of the doors, however, the teacher came to a halt. The station was to her left, but for some reason, every student was going right. It was so odd, she halted for a moment to rub her eyes, and almost got bowled over by a third year as a result.
"Hey! School might be over, but that doesn't mean you can stop paying attention to your surroundings!" Sadayo chided, but her words fell on deaf ears - the student didn't even bother to turn around and say sorry.
"Kawakami-sensei!"
Glancing over her shoulder, the teacher saw Mishima heading her way, weaving through crowds of students who didn't even seem to realise he was there. As he reached her side, the second-year swallowed, clearly apprehensive. "Sorry for the odd question, but do you know where Amamiya was today?"
Slowly, she shook her head, and a sense of foreboding began to well up within her. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen Sakamoto lately either.
…..
Mifune Chihaya froze, halfway through a tarot reading in her usual Shinjuku stall, when the energy in the air suddenly changed. Something is wrong. She bit her lip. The path of fate is twisting… Throat dry, she flipped a card to reveal it was the Tower and looked up towards her client, only to see that they were gone.
The fortune teller did a double take. While she did have the rare client that left mid-reading, they were normally always the belligerent sceptics who only employed her services for a lark. The woman she'd been divining the future for, however, hadn't fit that archetype at all. Alarm bells flashed in her mind as Chihaya's every instinct screamed at her. She knew she could just stay in her booth and let the whims of fate do what they pleased, but deep down inside, the fortune teller knew that if she stayed there in safety, others would simply fall in her stead.
Rising to her feet, the Chihaya left the alley. Shinjuku's main street was packed with people, which wouldn't be too surprising if it was after dark, but it was still the middle of the afternoon. Looking around, it seemed she wasn't the only person who'd abandoned her stall. In fact, it looked like everyone had decided to up and leave their shops, heading on a mass exodus to a location unknown.
"Oi, Lala-chan, wait up!" A voice pierced the air, capturing Chihaya's attention.
A woman with a short bob cut – perhaps in her early thirties – was charging after one of the local drag queens, expression somewhat flabbergasted. Frowning, Chihaya decided to approach her, determined to unravel the root cause of this madness.
…..
Haru blinked, baffled beyond belief as the woman manning the flower shop's register suddenly upped and left halfway through the heiress' purchase.
"Um, excuse me?" Haru called out, furrowing her brow. Oh dear – perhaps she'd accidentally hurt the woman's feelings. Admittedly, she had no idea how, but the retail assistant had been perfectly friendly up until then.
When the heiress attempted to follow her out into the underground shopping mall, however, a flood of people suddenly filled the aisles. If Haru hadn't jumped back into safety, she would have been crushed. Jaws slowly dropping, her eyes grew wide as she watched thousands upon thousands of people file rapidly out of the mall. The brunette floundered – perhaps she'd missed a fire alarm?
By the time the crush of people finished passing, the mall was a ghost town. Tentatively, Haru stepped out of the flower shop, the echo of her footsteps as loud as gunshots amidst the eerie quiet. Unnerved, she hurried out of the mall and into the Shibuya station proper, only to freeze. It too was completely abandoned. While she didn't ride trains often, even she knew one of the largest stations in Japan shouldn't be empty.
"My word!" An unfamiliar voice echoed through the hall, and Haru half jumped out of her skin. "Where are all the people?!"
Whirling around, a wave of relief crashed over her as she saw it was another teen around her age. He was leaning against a wall, sketchbook in hand, and was staring at the empty station with raw shock on his face.
"Excuse me, mister!" She hurried over in his direction. "Do you know what's happening?"
Frowning, a look of consternation crossed the lanky teenager's face as he shook his head. Now that she was closer, Haru saw that he was a Kosei student. "Unfortunately not – one minute, I was working on my art, and the next, all my subjects had disappeared!" He then tilted his head, analysing her like she was a particularly interesting bug. "Say, would you like to model for me? Everyone else has vanished."
"Um… no thank you." She raised a brow. "Should that really be a priority right now…?"
Frowning, the student returned his sketchbook to his bag. "Perhaps not. This is rather odd, isn't it? Almost supernatural, one might say."
Suddenly, Haru gasped. Grabbing her phone, she rang Makoto, heart racing – if anyone knew what was happening, it'd be the Phantoms. When she reached the other girl's answerphone, however, a horrible wave of trepidation ran through the brunette. Oh dear.
"Come on – let's go." The heiress decided, attempting to muster her courage. "Whatever is happening, we won't find the answer if we just wait down here."
Thankfully, the Kosei student was happy to accompany her – she didn't think she'd have quite so much courage if she was alone. The odd duo had almost left the abandoned station when they heard the sound of footsteps bouncing down the stairs. A child – late elementary school, by his appearance – almost crashed into them, but managed to rear back at the last second. As he scanned the teens, a look of relief crossed over his face.
"Oh, thank god – normal people! Come on, you've gotta check this out!"
…..
Hifumi's jaw dropped open in a most unladylike manner as droves upon droves of people started to move away from Shibuya Square. They shuffled like zombies – or perhaps pawns, moving at another's behest – as they shambled southwards. The shogi player had just wanted to pick up some more makeup, but now, she was forced to shelter on top of a bench lest she got crushed by the crowd.
Unbelievable… Hifumi inhaled, watching as people left their cars in the middle of the road and joined in the march. What on earth was going on?
A flicker of movement caught her eye, if only because it was moving opposite to the flow of people. A middle-aged man had been forced to scramble up the Hachiko statue for safety and was staring at the crowd in shock. It took her a couple of seconds to place him as a local politician, Yoshida. As he met her eyes, they widened as he saw she was still in command of her senses, and his shoulders slumped in relief.
"Young ma'am, are you unharmed?"
She nodded and called out to him in return. "Yes – I retreated to safety before the crowd began to surge. Do you have any idea what's happening?"
"I'm afraid not." He pursed his lips, before staring down the streets. "I think the crowd is starting to thin. Perhaps we could find a police officer…?"
Hopping off her bench, Hifumi privately doubted they'd have much luck, but a bad plan was still better than no plan. If one did not move, the game would not progress after all. But then again, considering what just happened, perhaps progress isn't a good thing in this case…
Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she followed Yoshida as he headed towards the police station. They'd only just reached the alarmingly empty Shibuya Crossing when a loud cry pierced the air.
"Kaoru?!" The voice was male, and filled to the brim with panic. "Kaoru, where the hell are you?!"
A lanky man in a dark coat stumbled out of Central Street, eyes fear with fear as he scanned the clearing wildly. Hifumi's breath caught in her throat as she noticed the tattoo on his neck. He was clearly a gangster of some sort, and one that looked disturbed, too. When he caught sight of them, the thug charged their way, and the shogi player froze in fear. When the man reached their side, however, he didn't threaten them or pull out a knife, like Hifumi was so certain he'd do. Instead, he desperately met Yoshida's eyes, expression filled with dread and hope in equal measures.
"Have either of you seen a boy – tall, black hair, around fourteen?" The panic in his voice was palpable. "He's my son – I can't find him anywhere!"
Guilt prickled in Hifumi as she reassessed her judgement of the man. Shady or not, he was still a human being and was capable of love and compassion just like anyone else.
Yoshida shook his head. "I'm afraid not. But we can-"
Whatever the politician was about to say was drowned out as an electronic screech filled the air, almost like a peaking microphone. Each of the numerous screens filling the street flickered, before switching over to the same image. A woman with fire burning in her grey eyes stared down at them, her hair trimmed into a stylish bob, and a pair of glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. They did nothing to blunt the severity of her expression, however.
"If you can hear this, please stay calm. My name is Isshiki Wakaba, a former government researcher. This mass exodus from Tokyo has been caused by the misuse of experimental technology invented by former colleagues of mine. If you want to aid me in restoring this city to its natural state, please join me at the Shibuya Crossing. If not, please remain in your homes or offices. I repeat, please stay calm…"
The unlikely trio exchanged a glance, and a wave of surrealness ran over Hifumi - it was like she'd just stepped into some sort of sci-fi. While the primary emotion she felt at that moment was unease, deep down inside, a childish part of herself wished that she'd stepped into a fantasy instead. The shogi player felt so much more comfortable with the idea of queens and knights than she did bizarre government experiments.
"Well then." Yoshida rubbed his chin. "While we're here, I believe we might as well hear what this Isshiki-san has to say."
…..
Sojiro's car screeched to a halt as he pulled up to the Shibuya Crossing, and he didn't even bother to take his keys out of the ignition as he stormed out of the vehicle, Takemi following a second behind. He'd offered the doctor a lift when her friend instructed them to go to the city, and given the lack of moving vehicles on the road, the barista had made it there in record time.
It was immediately obvious where they were meant to go. A cluster of people had already gathered near the Hachiko statue, expressions in various states of worry as they talked to each other like actual human beings, instead of the zombied folk that had filled Yogen-Jaya. As Sojiro grew close, he scanned the crowd. It was an odd group of people – there was that politician, Yoshida, along with Ren's homeroom teacher and a couple more Shujin students, plus another girl he thought he'd seen on TV.
"Hey, it's more normal folks!" A woman with a bob cut and a camera strapped around her neck pointed at him and Takemi.
The Shujin schoolboy bit his lips. "It's rude to point, Ohya-san…"
"Wait… Sakura-san?" Kawakami's eyes widened in recognition as she saw him. "Did you hear the message too? No, that's an obvious question. Here, let me introduce you to everyone…"
After giving him a quick rundown of everyone's names, the teacher explained why they were all there. As Sojiro listened to her explanation, he furrowed his brows. Despite their differing backgrounds and experiences, all of the others had been summoned here the same way. They'd each heard a woman over the TV, telling them to either gather in Shibuya or stay in their homes.
"That's odd." He shot Takemi a look. "We didn't hear anything like that. Takemi-san called a friend, and she told us to come here."
A friend who very clearly wasn't there, given the way nobody recognised the good doctor or vice versa.
Mishima suddenly perked up, electrified. "Wait – is this friend of yours a Phantom?!"
Sojiro furrowed his brows. Phantoms… those were those vigilantes, right? What on earth did they have to do with anything? Instead of confusion, however, everyone else snapped to attention at the kid's words, before staring at Takemi in interest.
The doctor pursed her lips. "I… have no idea, honestly. Maybe?"
Sojiro heard a strange whooshing sound and gawped gormlessly as a silver-haired woman suddenly appeared from nowhere. As she approached the group, he recognised her almost immediately. It was that prosecutor, Niijima, who'd occasionally come to Leblanc before she'd tried to pressure him over Wakaba's research. The tension in Takemi's shoulders relaxed, and Sojiro quickly realised Niijima must have been the friend she was talking about. While he had absolutely no idea what was going on, one thing was for certain – Takemi's taste in women sucked.
The prosecutor barely batted an eye as everyone turned to face her. "To answer that question, yes and no. While I'm not an active member of the group, I know who they are and how their powers work."
The Kosei girl, Togo, wrinkled her nose. "You aren't the woman from the video."
"No, but she's an acquaintance of mine – she'll be here shortly. Niijima Sae, by the way – I'd say it's a pleasure, but..."
"Did you just teleport?!" The kid, Shinya, gasped in excitement as he cut her off.
A long-suffering expression crossed the woman's face as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "No. Why does everyone always think…?" She shook her head, dismissing that train of thought. "That doesn't matter. To cut a long story very short, Shido Masayoshi is brainwashing the general populace so he can sacrifice them in a ritual to become a god."
A stunned silence that stretched on for almost an eternity followed her words. Sojiro opened his mouth. Sojiro closed his mouth. How the actual fuck was he meant to respond to that?!
"That's the stupidest thing I've heard in my fucking life." Iwai announced, voicing the one thing they were all clearly thinking.
Except, as it turned out, they weren't.
Mishima bit his lip. "If you're a member of the Phantoms… I believe you!"
After a moment's hesitation, Okumura nodded in agreement. "Indeed – I know there are forces in this world I can't even hope to comprehend."
"It's certainly an unusual situation, but… somehow, I know that you're telling the truth." Mifune frowned, and Kitagawa let out an affirmation in agreement.
"Oh, come on!" Kawakami exclaimed. "You can't believe seriously believe Shido is behind this! He's the top candidate for Prime Minister, for crying out loud!"
"I dunno." Ohya whistled, rubbing her chin. "I've been digging into some of his contacts, and they're up to some shady stuff."
Sojiro pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, look, I know from experience that Shido's a cold-hearted bastard, and I'm not surprised he's up to some shit, but he's not up to this sort of shit!"
Takemi turned to Niijima. "Maybe you should just show them, y'know…"
"Yes, I suppose I have to." Niijima sighed, and suddenly, motes of light gathered around her hand.
Sojiro watched, stunned, as the flickering violet light solidified into a bow, and without missing a beat, Niijima fired an arrow straight towards one of the screens overlooking the crossing. It shattered the static display, and as the screen flickered off, the cracks covering the glass became clearly visible.
What the actual hell? The barista's jaw dropped wide open.
He wasn't the only one completely stunned by the fact that Niijima had superpowers for some ungodly reason. A shocked silence followed her display, and only made it even easier to hear another whoosh of displaced air.
"I hope your opening statements tend to be a bit more convincing than that, Sae-san." A new, yet oh-so-familiar voice rang through the air.
The barista felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him. Slowly, shakily, he turned around, the entire world feeling like it was tilting on an axis. He'd recognise that wry chuckle anywhere. As Sojiro finally set eyes on the newcomer, he found himself staring at the woman he loved more than anything else, just like he knew he would.
The woman, who more importantly, had been dead for over two years.
A man stood to her side, stony-faced with an impressive moustache, but the only one Sojiro had eyes for was Wakaba. She looked the same as she always did. Despite her professional exterior and serious expression, there was a subtle mischievous glimmer in her eyes. In fact, the psientist looked like she'd just come home from a day at work, not absconded from the heavens themselves.
"Hello, Sojiro." Wakaba smiled, expression softening as she looked at her old friend. "We've got a lot to talk about."
…..
Retsu's lips thinned as the flood of humans surrounding Karakura's outskirts threw themselves at the barrier protecting the city yet again. Yamamoto had instructed the Kidō Corps to seal off the town so no rogue humans would accidentally stumble onto the battlefield, but nothing about this was accidental whatsoever. The vanguard of the mob scratched at a Kidō construct they could not even see with enough force to reduce their fingers to bloody stumps, their eyes glassy like those of a corpse. A visceral disgust churned in the Captain's stomach – it seemed Shido's monstrosity knew no limits.
So many humans had clogged the narrow streets, Retsu was saddened but not at all surprised when she felt motes of Reiatsu snuffing out like flame. Still, the barrage did not stop. A creaking noise filled the air as the barrier started to crack, the pressure pushing against it finally starting to overwhelm the spell.
"Isane, return to the relief station." Retsu ordered. "Focus on tending the wounded. Captain Kyōraku and I will maintain the barrier."
Swallowing, the grey-haired woman digested her Captain's words, before shunpoing away with a nod. It was a beast of a burden Retsu had placed on her shoulders – the lives of nearly every single combatant who'd come to the false Karakura Town were now in her hands, and her hands alone. Unfortunately, there was no other choice – the second the humans breached the Kidō construct, there would be no stopping them. Shido's victory would be as good as assured.
Chanting, the Captain placed her hands down at the base of the barrier and felt a tug at her Reiryoku as she slowly started to repair the fractured Kidō. Kyōraku followed suit, and soon enough, the cracks spiderwebbing the barrier started to fade. Despite that, Retsu didn't dare abandon her position – as long as the flood of humans was still out there, the barrier would need constant maintenance.
Of course, it was at that moment that a maelstrom of malignant Reitsu rocketed towards the two senior Captains at speeds even Retsu struggled to process. Moving more on reflex than conscious thought, she unsheathed Minazuki and intercepted the Arrancar as he stabbed his pitch-black blade at Kyōraku's exposed back.
Furrowing her brow, she met the brainwashed Kurosaki's empty eyes as their swords locked together, his pupils semi-obscured by the black haze that emanated off his body. His masked maw was stained red, and while the colour of the boy's Zanpakutō prevented her from seeing the blood that coated his blade, it didn't stop it from spreading onto the otherwise unsullied Minazuki. Ah. She frowned. Isshin must have lost. The revelation wasn't a surprise – the only way he'd win against a foe of this power was if he struck to kill, and that wasn't something anyone could expect him to do to his own child.
Retsu, on the other hand, had no such qualms. With a sweep of her sword, she sent the orange-haired Espada careening back. Kurosaki stumbled, clearly not anticipating her strength, and the warrior's blood within Retsu's veins began to sing as she sliced her sword across his torso. She managed to score several more blows – deep, but non-lethal – before the Arrancar regained his bearings. His counterattack was ferocious, and it took all of Retsu's concentration to keep up with it. As they continued to clash blades, a smile began to creep across her face. The Captain hadn't felt this invigorated since she'd duelled Kenpachi, and this time, she had the novelty of fighting a new foe. Retsu wondered just what Kurosaki would be capable of if she pushed him hard enough…
"Senpai, a little help over here?" Kyōraku called.
His shout brought Retsu back to reality. Pushing the orange-haired Espada away with a mighty blow, she glanced at the barrier, immediately sobering up. The cracks that had started to fade under their reinforcement were returning – while Kyōraku could slow the Kidō's destruction, he would not be able to prevent it on his own. Retsu frowned, warring desires duelling within her. She wanted to fight Kurosaki and satiate the adrenaline rising within her, but that simply wasn't her duty. Hands trembling, she sheathed her blade and pushed out her palm.
"Bakudō #99, Part 1. Kin."
Ribbons of black fabric appeared from the aether and swirled around Kurosaki before snapping shut, dragging the former human to the ground with a mighty crash. Iron shafts fell from the sky, pinning the heavy cloth in place. Even the average Captain wouldn't stand a chance of breaking out of a spell like that, but as Kurosaki thrashed around, Retsu knew it would not hold for long. It would, however, hopefully give her enough time to figure out a solution to this problem.
Her answer came not in the form of a divine revelation, but a bloodstained Kenpachi leering down at her from a roof. "Oi, mind if I butt in?"
Retsu raised a brow mildly. "I thought you'd gone to fight Akechi?"
"Got lost." Kenpachi shrugged. Horrifically enough, there was actually a chance he was telling the truth.
Stepping back, Retsu gave him a nod before retreating to the barrier's side. Unfortunately, Kenpachi's arrival had done little to assuage her worries. Even if Kurosaki was accounted for, Akechi, Aizen, and Ichimaru were all free to act. If Shido sent them to stop Retsu and Kyōraku, the senior Captains would find themselves in the same position yet again.
Or, perhaps they wouldn't.
The tell-tale crack of shunpo echoed through the air, and two figures appeared on the Karakura rooftops. The second she sensed their Reiatsu, Retsu felt some of the tension in her muscles unwind. Gazing their way, the Captain was greeted by Urahara Kisuke's beatific grin, an infinitely more stoic Shihōin Yoruichi at his side.
"Sorry for the wait!" The shopkeeper fluttered his fan indulgently. "Alas, there were a few complications on our end."
"Focus on the barrier – we'll keep Shido's forces off your back." Yoruichi instructed, none of Urahara's levity in her voice.
The duo disappeared before Retsu could even give them a nod.
…..
As Wakaba finally finished her story of ghosts and magic and scientific experiments gone horribly wrong, Sojiro's mind was spinning. It sounded completely ludicrous, like something out of a B-grade movie or one of those silly cartoons Futaba liked. When he thought of his daughter, the barista's stomach clenched. If Wakaba was to be believed, both she and Akira were up to their pretty little necks in all this spiritual nonsense.
He could barely comprehend it. The idea that shy, introverted Futaba and the charming delinquent who'd managed to drag her out of her shell were both part of the most notorious vigilante group in Tokyo… Sojiro groaned. Yeah, of course they were. They were terrors, the both of them. With that, the last of the barista's scepticism faded. He still thought all this ghost stuff was bonkers, mind you, but what other explanation was there for the mania that had gripped the city? For Niijima's bizarre powers? For the fact that Wakaba – his dear, deceased friend – was the one telling them all this?
Trembling, Sojiro subtly leant against the side of the Hachiko statue until the world stopped spinning around him. Palms sweaty, he swept a hand through his hair. What a mess. He was a simple man who lived a simple life and enjoyed simple things. The barista's days of being a youthful vagabond were well over – he wasn't equipped to deal with supernatural monsters and a potential apocalypse. Still… Sojiro knew he couldn't just sit on his ass when thousands of lives – including those of his children – were at stake.
"Hmm…" Kitagawa was the first to speak, and the artist stroked his bony chin. "I would like to help put a stop to this madness, but how? I possess no paranormal abilities of my own, and while I believe art can affect the soul, I sincerely doubt a nice painting will cause these Arrancar creatures to self-destruct."
"Don't worry." Wakaba chuckled. "I'm not expecting any of you to fist-fight a Hollow. At the same time, there is something we can do to help. For him to control so many people at once, he needs to be broadcasting a signal from somewhere."
"I believe it's likely coming from a TV Station just to the west of Dome Town." Niijima took over the explanation. "The station's president is a known associate of Shido, and they've been pushing a heavily pro-United Future Party agenda in their reporting lately. I've also discovered a couple of Vanishing Incidents that can be linked back to him."
Frowning, Sojiro stroked his beard. Now that she mentioned it, he had seen Shido chatting up some media representatives during one of the awful networking dinners the barista had been forced to attend when he still worked for the government. It wasn't at all surprising to hear the asshole had them in his pockets.
"It should only be manned by a skeleton crew – Shido would have taken all the men he could to Hueco Mundo." Wakaba's eyes twinkled. "And that means the station's security will be perfectly mundane humans, just like us. So, who here wants to help me trash a building and take back this city?"
The answer was unanimous.
…..
Kenpachi shifted in anticipation. Dark miasma drifted from Kurosaki's skin, and as he glared at the Captain with his pitch-black eyes, a guttural growl escaped the Arrancar's throat. The Shinigami grinned in response – it seems the Espada instinctively knew he was facing a fellow predator. They charged simultaneously, Kurosaki's black Zanpakutō screeching as it ground against Kenpachi's chipped blade. A laugh tore its way out of the warrior's mouth as he knocked the Arrancar's blade to the side and stabbed his sword at the boy's torso. Kurosaki attempted to swivel out of the way, but Kenpachi's Zanpakutō still cleaved through his burnt armour and bit into his side like it was butter. The Captain got slashed across his torso in turn, but what the hell, that was simply life.
Howling, Kurosaki rushed at the Captain in a blitz of speed. He stabbed at Kenpachi from one direction, before immediately flickering to the next in a frenzy of shunpo the 2nd would be proud of. Kenpachi knew there was no point even trying to block all the blows, so he simply parried the ones directed at his vitals, and otherwise let the kid chip away at him like he was a stone block. Eventually, the Arrancar slipped up. There was a slight delay to the swing of his sword - a hint of fatigue Kenpachi never would have noticed if it wasn't for Unohana's training. As Kurosaki stabbed at him, the Captain grabbed the boy's sword by the blade and shoved his own Zanpakutō deep into the Arrancar's guts.
… You know this isn't the end, don't you?
You're damn right it ain't. A feral smile crossed Kenpachi's face as Kurosaki shot a Cero at him point-blank, forcing the Captain to leap out of the way. I'm only just getting started.
"Drink, Nozarashi!"
Kenpachi's Reiatsu swirled around him with so much strength and fury Karakura's concrete walls and tarmac floor began to crumble. The Captain's Zanpakutō thickened, changing from a chipped nodachi into something closer resembling an elongated cleaver. He was about to launch himself at Kurosaki when a cry echoed across the street.
"Wait!" A middle-aged man shunpoed to Kenpachi's side before promptly collapsing. The Captain did nothing but raise an incredulous brow as the man staggered to his feet, gripping Kenpachi's haori. "Please…" He begged, a pathetic display that made Kenpachi feel nothing but scorn. "He's… he's my son. Please don't kill him."
"Kill him?" A laugh tore out of the Captain's throat as he pushed the man away. "Why the hell would I do that? If I kill him, then I can't fight him!"
Kurosaki Isshin fell back to the ground, stunned, but Kenpachi paid him no heed. Instead, with a maniacal cackle, he charged straight at the Espada. The orange-haired teen attempted to parry Kenpachi's blow, but he'd underestimated the juggernaut's strength. The Captain smashed his Zanpakutō straight out of his hands, before swiping Nozarashi across his neck.
The cleaver tore through flesh and bone, and in the distance, Isshin screamed. The sound, however, was short-lived. Mere seconds after Nozarashi's blade swept through Kurosaki's throat, his skin and veins knitted themselves back together. The Arrancar leapt backwards, instinctively running a hand across his neck. Nothing but a red line which faintly oozed blood remained, however.
It had not been the Arrancar's high-speed regeneration that had saved his life. Kenpachi stroked his Shikai, the metal feeling warm like a heartbeat. For the first time ever, he understood why Shinigami were so hung up on the idea of Shikai and Bankai. The Captain had learnt a valuable lesson the day he'd plunged his Zanpakutō through Unohana's heart. Kenpachi wanted to fight at his fullest, never holding back again. And yet, he didn't want to destroy his toys. The ghost of an idea had burgeoned at the back of his mind, and when he'd attempted to get his Zanpakutō's name mere hours after said fight, Nozarashi had answered his call.
His Shikai had one ability, and one ability only. Its blade would wound and hinder, but never kill.
Kurosaki spit another Cero at him, but Kenpachi batted it away with a swing of his sword. The blast of light was nothing but a distraction, however, and the Espada took the time he'd bought to retrieve his Zanpakutō from the rubble. Instead of lunging at the Captain yet again, Kurosaki lifted his sword into the air, and the blade began to ripple with dark energy.
"Getsuga Tenshō!" The Arrancar yelled, voice so distorted it was barely legible.
He swung his Zanpakutō downwards, sending a crescent-shaped arc of condensed Reiryoku hurtling in Kenpachi's direction. The Captain attempted to shield himself with Nozarashi, which turned out to be a mistake. While the flat of his blade protected the bulk of his torso, the Getsuga Tenshō tore past the iron and bit into the parts of his body not directly covered by his blade. Blood splattered across the streets, and Kenpachi staggered as he momentarily grew light-headed. The Captain quickly straightened himself, however – if Kurosaki thought he'd won, the kid had another one coming.
This time, it was Kenpachi who let out a bloodthirsty roar as charged at his opponent. The Arrancar lobbed another Getsuga Tenshō his way, but this time, the Captain side-stepped it instead. Closing the distance between them, Kenpachi struck. The sound of metal clashing against metal rang as their swords met, and the Captain withdrew his blade before lashing it out again. This time, he hit the Arrancar's sword with so much force that his Zanpakutō almost vibrated out of its hands. Kenpachi's final strike broke through Kurosaki's guard and cleaved the Arrancar in two.
The Espada's body stitched itself together again, the distinctive bubble of high-speed regeneration accompanying Nozarashi's healing, but Kurosaki's Reiatsu remained diminished. Returning to the fight, the duo danced in a brutal battle of blades. Kenpachi hacked away at his foe, lacerating his body with cuts and occasionally wounds that were far more lethal. Kurosaki, meanwhile, gave as good as he got. He slashed at the Captain with deadly speed while peppering him with Ceros and Getsuga Tenshōs alike.
As more and more blood flew from the Arrancar, his moves grew increasingly frenzied. A hurricane of Getsuga Tenshōs were launched Kenpachi's way. Effortlessly, the Captain swung his Shikai around, slashing and hacking at the gale of darkness, a wild laugh tearing out of his mouth as his heart soared in his chest. How exciting! How… pathetic. That first claw of shadow that had torn into the Captain had infinitely more power than the haphazard flurry of attacks that had greeted him just then.
"Is this all you've got left?!" Kenpachi goaded. "Come on! You can do better than that, Kurosaki!"
The Arrancar complied. The mask covering his face split open, revealing a jagged row of teeth. Biting into the flesh of his left hand, Kurosaki slowly drank his own blood. Tearing his mouth away from the wound, viscous red liquid and spittle in equal measure flew through the air as the Espada began to charge a Cero. The whole world quaked as a technicolour orb of unholy light formed between the horns of Kurosaki's Hollow mask, and Kenpachi's skin prickled as the entire town was bathed with toxic Reiatsu.
The Shinigami's spirits soared in glee. "Ahahahaha! That's more like it!" The Captain roared, heart pounding with so much adrenaline its beats sounded like a jackhammer.
He met the attack head-on. Hefting Nozarashi up into the air, Kenpachi mustered his Reiatsu, whirls of light surrounding him in a golden storm. As he swung his blade downwards with all the force of a god, the sheer power of his strike split half the city in two, colliding with Kurosaki's Cero head-on. The midnight and scarlet blast exploded into a cacophony of colour, and Kenpachi was forced to stab Nozarashi into the ground lest he get blown away by the backlash.
Eventually, though, the light faded. The road was cracked and torn, tarmac replaced by fractured iron and broken pipes. The once-tall towers surrounding them had been annihilated in the blast, leaving only skeletons behind. Neither Kenpachi nor his foe had been defeated, however. Both men stood tall, unshaken despite the city-shattering blast.
That was until Kurosaki staggered, of course. The Arrancar flashed forward, taking one last feeble strike at Kenpachi. The Captain didn't even bother dodging and merely grunted as his dark blade bit into his skin. The wound was a mere papercut, and afterwards, Kurosaki collapsed in a pile, entirely spent.
Reiatsu nothing but cinders, the boy drifted into unconsciousness. The Hollow mask covering his face cracked into shards before fading away, and for some baffling reason, the length of his hair diminished, flowing orange locks returning to a short, choppy cut. Kenpachi had no time to question why, however, as a wave of exhaustion hit him like a freight train.
He fainted before he even hit the ground.
As mentioned near the end of TDTHH, I wanted to do something slightly different with Kenpachi's Shikai, as I personally found Nozarashi a bit... bland. It's been a while since there's been a lore change!