Cw: character death.

Rukia stashed her bokken away in its rack and waved Kiyone and Sentarō farewell as she followed Ukitake out of the training grounds. Calmly, the Captain guided her through the 13th in the direction of his office - judging by his relaxed demeanour, whatever he wanted to speak to her about clearly wasn't that urgent.

"So, how have things been going? Training with Captain Abarai, I hear?" Ukitake asked, a friendly smile on his face.

The petite Shinigami nodded. "I'm well, all things considered. Renji's given me some good Zanjutsu advice, though his new duties will likely prevent us from spending much time together until Aizen is dealt with."

Ukitake stroked his chin. "Has he had any luck finding a Lieutenant? It would certainly take a load off his shoulders."

Rukia shook her head. "Not particularly. He asked some old friends from the 11th, but they declined. Truthfully, I think he was hoping to promote someone from the 6th – given he's the first non-Kuchiki Captain in centuries, he doesn't want the old guard to feel they're being pushed out of place. Still, there was a reason my brother recruited a Lieutenant from outside his Division – there simply isn't anyone strong enough in the 6th to take on the responsibilities of the role."

The white-haired man hummed. "Perhaps I could give him some recommendations... Hidetomo might be a good match – he's calm and studious, which would counteract Abarai's hot-headedness, but on the flip side, he's more of a diplomat than a fighter…" The Captain mulled things over. "Now that I think about it, Niijima Isao might be a good option."

Rukia paused, shooting him a surprised glance. "Really?"

The fact that the 13th's recently appointed Tenth Seat was Makoto's father had come as one hell of a surprise. While Rukia hadn't known the man particularly well before her fateful mission to Shibuya, given their newfound connection, they'd started talking to each other over the last few weeks. He was curious to meet the Shinigami who'd changed the trajectory of his daughters' lives, and for Rukia, being around someone who intimately understood the culture of the World of the Living was a relief. As much as Renji cared for her, he always got a bit baffled by the anecdotes she shared about her time amongst the Phantoms.

Rubbing her chin, she pondered over Ukitake's comment. Niijima was fairly no-nonsense and expected discipline, an attitude which would go down well in the 6th. He also wasn't afraid to speak his mind if he disagreed with something, which was a trait Renji would probably appreciate. Admittedly, she wasn't too sure how strong the Tenth Seat was, but if his children were any indication, Niijima probably knew his way around a fight.

"That's not a bad idea, actually." Rukia mused. "Someone who's been in the Gotei 13 for longer might be a better choice, but in terms of temperament, he's ideal. Maybe I'll try to rope them both into sharing a training session sometime…"

Ukitake smiled affectionately. "You must be proud of your friend. Jumping from Sixth Seat to Captain in less than a year… it's certainly an achievement, even if the circumstances were less than ideal."

Her expression softened as something bittersweet bloomed inside her. "I am, though I admit a part of me feels a little jealous. While I stagnated in my grief, Renji moved forward in leaps and bounds." Rukia straightened her shoulders. "Still, I'm not planning on lagging behind him forever – I'm going to get strong enough to stand by his side, like we should have been doing from the start."

The Captain nodded, sliding open the door to his office. "Actually, that's sort of the reason I wanted to talk to you today. Come, take a seat."

Ukitake's office was fairly informal, and in contrast to Byakuya's immaculate quarters, favoured homeliness over pristineness. Ignoring his somewhat cluttered desk, he moved to the overside of the room where a pair of wooden sofas sat alongside a coffee table. After asking if she wanted some tea - an offer she politely accepted - they sat down with their drinks.

The Captain's expression grew distant as he sipped his tea. "Truthfully, I wanted to ask you this a long time ago – Kaien would have wanted me to, after all. Still, between your grief and Byakuya's orders, there was never an appropriate moment."

"Sir?" She blinked, confused. "… What do you mean, Byakuya's orders?"

"Do you want to know why you were never offered a seated position?"

Rukia furrowed her brows. "Because I wasn't strong enough?"

Ukitake sighed, unable to meet her eyes. "Rukia-chan, your mentor was the sort of prodigy who only appears once in a century, and your main sparring partners have exclusively been seated officers for decades. Even today, you won against Kiyone – you do not lack for strength."

… Huh. Now that Ukitake mentioned it, he had a point. While Kaien definitely went easy on her when he was still alive, Kiyone wasn't the sort to hold back. A wave of clarity washed over her as she suddenly realised why Ukitake had summoned her - she was being promoted.

I wonder what rank? Both the Eighteenth Seat and Thirteenth Seat were currently free, and if Ukitake went ahead with his idea to offer Niijima to Renji, the Tenth Seat would be available as well. Still, perhaps that was asking a bit much – she'd be more than happy with Thirteenth Seat.

"If it wasn't due to my abilities, then why wasn't I given a ranked position?" Rukia asked, curious.

"Because Byakuya requested you remained unseated when he enrolled you into my Division." The Captain sighed, sipping on his tea. "Truthfully, I wasn't happy with it, but my hands were tied. My family is beholden to the Kuchikis – it wasn't a relationship I could risk damaging. I thought with time, he would grow to realise your strength, but…"

"That didn't end up happening." Rukia concluded with a pang of grief.

Ukitake gave her a clipped nod. "I truly believe that if he had the chance, Byakuya would have eventually acknowledged your prowess and rescinded his command. Still… in light of recent events, I cannot uphold the promise I made him, and nor do I particularly want to - you are no longer a Kuchiki, after all. Here – this is for you."

The Captain reached into his haori and withdrew a wooden badge that he placed into Rukia's hand. It took her half a second for her to comprehend what it was. It was a Lieutenant's armband – more specifically, judging by the snowdrops carved onto its surface, it was the 13th's. Her eyes shot open as the weight of what Ukitake was asking of her smashed into her like a ton of bricks. Rukia thought Tenth Seat was far too optimistic, but here Ukitake was, asking her to become his second in command.

To take up Kaien's old role.

She almost declined him on the spot, until a gentle woman's voice with a bite of cold echoed in her mind.

"Do not leap to any hasty conclusions, Rukia." Sode no Shirayuki chided her. "Tell me, if it wasn't for your history, would you reject this offer?"

Rukia sat still, the Lieutenant's armband burning in her hands like hot coal. Shoving her feelings about Kaien to the side, she mulled things over. Truthfully, she didn't think she deserved it. Not in a woe-is-me way, but in a practical one. Rukia had never even been a seated officer before – she had no real understanding of what the work would entail, or even a basic frame of reference for it.

"Is that really true?" Her Zanpakutō spirit questioned. "Leadership, diplomacy, finance, strategy… they are all skills the Kuchiki taught you, aren't they?"

But I've never actually USED any of them. Rukia internally complained.

"Just today, you defused a potentially tense situation between two superior officers. You are not as lacking as you believe you are."

The Shinigami remained quiet, unable to counter Sode no Shirayuki's point. It would be difficult, yes, and despite her Zanpakutō's assurances, Rukia knew it would be one hell of a learning curve, but… for the first time ever, the idea of becoming a Lieutenant didn't feel like a dream so distant she didn't even realise it existed. Rukia had survived being thrust from the depths of the Rukongai into the Kuchiki Clan, after all – nothing was going to be as hard as that. Plus… didn't she just say to Ukitake mere moments ago that she wanted to stand at Renji's side? Being promoted to Lieutenant was a massive step towards that goal.

In the end, Rukia placed the badge back down on the table. "Can I think about it?"

Ukitake blinked in shock. "Of course. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't say no immediately – Kaien refused for months before he eventually caved."

She tilted her head. She hadn't realised Kaien had declined the Lieutenant position initially. How odd – he was always so suited to the role.

"I'll admit that I was tempted to, but Sode no Shirayuki told me to think things through objectively." Rukia confessed. "If I force myself to contemplate it from a purely logical perspective, I might not be as bad a choice as I feared. Still, I don't think this is a decision I can or should make spontaneously. I wouldn't want to bite off more than what I can chew – both the Division and myself deserve better."

Ukitake nodded, smiling. "You have a wise Zanpakutō. Still, take your time – the offer's there, whenever you're ready for it."

…..

Unfortunately, Akira didn't get the chance to talk to Makoto about the bruise on Haru's arm until their journey home. Kawakami and the third-years had ushered the students to their flight's gate, and everyone had strict instructions to stay nearby, as the plane would start boarding in twenty minutes. The sterile airport air tasted bitter on his tongue as he wove through a gaggle of students towards where the trip's chaperones were talking amongst each other. It didn't seem to be about anything important, so Akira cleared his throat as he approached them.

"Sorry – mind if I borrow Makoto for a bit?"

Some of the third-years looked a bit surprised at his request, but neither Haru nor Kawakami batted an eye.

"Of you go." The teacher waved a hand dismissively. "I'm sure Niijima-chan is capable of keeping track of the time."

"Thanks!" He smiled, but his grin quickly dimmed as he guided a confused Makoto away to a quiet alcove near an unused drinking fountain.

"What is it?" She asked, her brow furrowing as she took in his serious expression.

Akira swallowed, mouth dry. While there was no way in hell he could sit back if Haru was being abused, that didn't make it an easy topic to broach. "Do you know about Haru's fiancé?"

Makoto's lips thinned into a line, and she nodded, suspicion shining in her eyes. "Yes – she was having a date with him when I saved her from a Hollow. What is it?"

He licked his lips, anxiety choking his throat. "I noticed a bruise on her arm yesterday – it looked like it came from a hand."

The student council president's eyes flashed wide open, before almost immediately narrowing into furious slits. Cursing, she clenched her fist, and Akira took a surprised step back as the brunette almost punched the wall. Thankfully, Makoto restrained herself at the last second – displays of violence in an airport were a no-no, after all.

When she replied, her voice was burning. "During the Hollow attack, she asked if I hold off destroying it for a moment. While she didn't want him to die, she thought she might be able to get out of the engagement if her fiancé got mauled."

Akira's brows rose. "That's…"

"I was mildly concerned at the time, but Haru didn't seek my help out afterwards, so I dismissed it as an off-colour joke. When I saw her again at the chaperone meeting, however… she looked awful. I should have known it was something like this. For her to wish such violence on someone else… there had to be a reason. She's normally so gentle."

He tipped his head, glasses flashing in the light. "Is that the real reason why you invited her to join us?"

Makoto hesitated for a moment, before nodding. "Yes. I genuinely didn't want her to feel lonely, but I also wanted to gauge her behaviour. For all I knew, I was being paranoid, but now…"

An explosion of anger burst through Akira with so much force it almost sent him staggering to his knees. How dare that bastard touch a hair on her head?! Even though he'd been an utter mess yesterday, Haru hadn't held it against him – in fact, she'd lent him a sympathetic ear. It took a rare person to extend such sympathy and kindness towards a stranger, especially one with his past. He wasn't going to let the heiress get hurt if he could help it.

Sugimura, wasn't it? Akira was going to make him pay.

"Let's mobilise the Phantoms." He adjusted his glasses. "We can strike when we get back."

"… No."

His head snapped upwards. What the hell did she mean, 'no'?! Akira glared at Makoto, ready to snap off a fiery retort, but halted when he saw the look in her eyes.

The brunette was staring at him in complete and utter concern. "Calm down, Akira. You know I'm not happy about this, but we don't know if her fiancé was the one who hurt her – in fact, we don't even know if it was a handprint, not for sure." She ran a hand through her hair, utterly exhausted. "While I think your suspicions are correct, we simply don't have enough evidence to act, even if we could."

It was then that Akira noticed it – the crimson flames of his Reiatsu had an edge of darkness to it, which bubbled like burning tar. Freezing, his anger guttered out almost as quickly as it had started. That flash of all-consuming rage… how much of it had been him, and how much of it has been his Hollow?

"… Sorry, Makoto. You're right – I'm being hasty." His shoulders slumped. Something about her words had tickled his curiosity, however. "What did you mean by that – 'even if we could'?"

"We need to lay low, remember?" The student council president pointed out. "We still don't know who the White-Masked Killer is, or who's the mastermind behind his actions. Until that's sorted out, I don't think we should make any more public acts as the Phantoms. We don't want to be a convenient scapegoat yet again, after all."

Akira did a double-take. Hold on – but we DO know who the White-Masked Killer is. It was then that he had a revelation – he'd assumed Sae had told her sister that Wakaba had pointed the finger at Akechi, but what if she hadn't? After all, Akira only knew it because he'd eavesdropped on her. Sae might have decided to keep the information to herself, lest Makoto told the other Phantoms and they picked a fight they couldn't win. Suddenly, he was faced with a conundrum. Should I tell them? The gears in Akira's mind churned. It might be a good idea – despite Sae's fears, he knew damn well none of his friends were that stupid – the Soul Society had been a wake-up call for all of them. Plus, they'd then know to stay out of Akechi's way.

… But then again, isn't everyone else doing that already? The Phantoms already knew Akechi was onto them, and Ryuji, Ann, and Makoto had all made their antipathy towards the Detective Prince clear – hell, Ishida probably hadn't even heard of him.

In the end, when Akira spoke, it was not about Akechi's identity. "… Yeah, you make a good point. Let's hope Sae-san manages to wrap things up soon."

Makoto shot him a sympathetic smile. "I wouldn't get your hopes up too high – she's slammed with work right now. As much as she'd like to focus on the Vanishings Incidents, it's not the only case she's working on."

"Huh. That's a pity." He vacantly rubbed the back of his neck.

The brunette nodded. "Still, I'm sure Sis will get there in the end. Come on – we should probably rejoin the others. We don't want to miss the flight, after all."

As they walked back to where the rest of the Shujin students were, however, Akira's mood was still troubled. Not over Haru's situation this time, but because of his silence about Akechi. Even if ignorance wouldn't hurt her, he knew what Makoto was like – she'd much rather have the answers than not. But he'd kept quiet. Why?

By the time the plane began to slowly rumble into the air, Akira still had no answer.

…..

Futaba yawned as she walked into Leblanc, stretching a crick out of her back. "Morning!"

Sojiro arched a brow from his ever-present spot behind the café's counter. "Morning? Futaba, it's nearly 10." Sighing, he shook his head. "You need to start waking up earlier. Look at Akira – he arrived home from Hawaii yesterday, and he's already back at school."

The hacker poked out her tongue. "That's only because the cops will shoot him if he skips a day."

"That's not-" Sojiro sighed, shaking his head as he realised Futaba's joke wasn't even worth responding to. "Look, if you don't get into some good habits now, you're gonna have a bad time next year."

The orange-haired teen groaned, shoulders slumping. After how successful her so-called computing camp was, Sojiro had become adamant he'd get her back into school, or die trying. Reluctantly – very, very reluctantly – Futaba could kind of see his point if she squinted a lot. This time last year, she'd been fundamentally convinced she'd never be able to make an offline friend even if she tried, and now, she had six of them! Maybe school wouldn't be a hellish prison full of daily torture. It'd just be a mildly bad prison full of daily torture.

While she hadn't quite resigned herself to her fate yet, it was waaaaaaaay too early in the morning (despite Sojiro's complaints) to restart that argument. Instead, Futaba simply demanded her usual coffee, and skipped back home once that spurt of delicious, delicious caffeine finally hit her. Popping up her spiritual pressure sensing program on one screen – she was the Phantoms' mission control, after all – Futaba debated how she'd spend her day.

Her latest pet project had been attempting to remotely hack into Sae's laptop again, looking for any juicy details on the White-Masked Killer's identity, but she'd had no dice so far. Evidently, after Makoto revealed she'd copied her hard drive, the prosecutor had decided to bump up her cyber security stats. Whatever new antivirus software she'd gotten had eradicated all of the nasty, wonderful bugs Futaba had left behind, and Sae had also changed all of her passwords, even the irrelevant ones. Alas, Futaba was starting to suspect she'd need to get into the SIU's internal systems to access the data she hungered for, and realistically, that wasn't worth the risk.

In the end, she opted to put aside hacking for the day in favour of one of her other favourite activities – goofing off. Specifically, catching up on her favourite Featherman fanfics. See, who needs Japanese classes when the good ol' fashioned internet is right there?

Naturally, real life had a way of rearing its ugly head and bashing your face in when you least expected or wanted it. Futaba was just about to open up one of her favourite longfics, when she caught a flash of colour in the corner of her eye. Glancing to the side, Futaba froze at what she saw.

Suddenly, she was very happy that she wasn't at school for an entirely different reason.

…..

Uryū, ironically enough, was in the middle of a Japanese lesson when his phone suddenly pinged. With a flash of irritation, he reached for the infernal device. He didn't mind that the Phantoms had added him to their group chat – while most of it was ridiculous banter, occasionally, matters of actual importance were discussed. What he did mind, however, was that the only Phantom who had even the slightest compunction about texting during class was Makoto. Sure, it wasn't like Uryū needed to listen to his teachers, but it was the principle of the thing!

Oddly enough, the Quincy swore that he'd muted the chat to prevent this exact sort of thing. It was then that he saw it wasn't a message from the group chat, but from Sakura alone. He stilled. Out of all of the Phantoms, she was easily the one he knew the least - why was she of people trying to contact him? Discretely, he opened up his messages, only to freeze as his breath caught in his throat.

Sakura: URGENT, CHECK CHAT. YOURE IN DANGER

He started at his phone for several solid seconds. Slipping the device away, Uryū cleared his throat and raised his hand. "Excuse me – apologies for interrupting, but may I go to the bathroom?"

Thankfully, his teacher dismissed him without a second thought – Uryū was a model student, after all. While he kept his pace sedate as he left the classroom, the second the door closed behind him he bolted, rapidly opening up the Phantoms' chat.

Alibaba: CODE BLACK, GUYS!

Alibaba: weve got a big fucking problem on our hands!

Skull: wait, really? the app ain't showing anything.

Alibaba: yeah, thats the problem

Alibaba: the nexus of the attack is over karakura town, and yet i can still pick it up all the way from here!

Alibaba: even the white masked killer doesnt have that sort of range!

Uryū froze, goosebumps prickling down his arms. Hollows with Reiatsu so potent Sakura could detect them all the way from Shibuya were about to attack his home. Hands shaking, he quickly ducked into a bathroom, simultaneously changing into his Quincy gear and typing into the chat.

Ginger: What's the ETA?

Alibaba: 20 minutes. i dont have coordinates, but i dont think youll need them

He cursed as he clipped on his mantle, treading on his tunic in the process. Dammit – I'm really going to have to make a more practical version of this outfit. Still, that was a problem for his future self, assuming he wasn't about to get murdered by some beefed-up Hollows. As he raced out of the building, he formed a platform of Reishi, and accelerated into the air. Landing on a rooftop, he glanced back at his phone, and a wave of relief ran through him as he saw the Shinigami Kurusu in the channel.

Snow: I'll inform Captain Ukitake immediately – we'll send over an advance force as soon as possible!

Alibaba: how long will that take? were talking captain class over here!

Snow: At least an hour. Ginger, can you hold them off until then?

Hopping off onto a roof, Uryū formed his Heilig Bogen.

Ginger: I'll certainly try, but I think I'm going to need a bit of help.

Joker: No worries – we're already on our way.

Joker: Queen just tripped the fire alarm.

Joker: Stay strong, Ginger – we'll be there soon.

As the sky cracked open over a distant park, and a wave of Reiatsu so dark and powerful it almost swept Uryū off his feet pulsed through the air, he swallowed grimly. He had a sinking suspicion that he'd overestimated himself. Even with the Phantoms' aid, he wasn't sure he could hold these Hollows back at all.

Still, that didn't mean he'd let them run amok.

Notching his bow, Uryū flashed towards the impact site. The apartment buildings blurred around him, quickly replaced by green smudges that could only be trees. As he finally reached his destination, he slowed down, and the world snapped back into focus. While he hadn't been to Kinogaya Park very often, given it was on the other side of town from where he lived, he wasn't entirely unfamiliar with it. It wasn't like that mattered though – it had been so badly damaged, the place would have been utterly unrecognisable even if he knew it like the back of his hand.

The trees had been blown over, mighty oaks that had weathered centuries uprooted by the force of the blast. A large crater obscured with dust and debris was carved into the earth – Uryū estimated it was probably at least ten metres wide. A gaggle of civilians were sprawled by its edge, and while a few survivors groaned, Reiatsu fluttering weakly, the rest of the bodies were mere husks. Swallowing, the Quincy looked away. Those people were well beyond saving. Instead, he focused back on the crater, where the monsters who'd caused this destruction were hiding. As the dust finally cleared though, Uryū's jaw dropped open.

There were half a dozen of the tall, white-masked monstrosities. Unlike the average Hollow, however, the dark, gaping holes that pierced their bodies weren't just located in their chests. When he combined that fact with their dense Reiatsu, Uryū knew in his bones they had to be Adjuchas, the evolutionary step beyond the Gillian that almost destroyed Shibuya. It wasn't their appearance that had shocked the Quincy, however.

No, that had been caused by the two men standing behind the beasts.

No, not men. Uryū's eyes widened to the size of saucers. They were certainly humanoid, with eyes and flesh and noses indistinguishable from anyone else's, but both had white bone-like fragments on their heads, accompanied by what only could have been Hollow holes on their torsos. To compound their strangeness, the men wore matching uniforms that resembled an inverted, westernised version of a Shinigami's Shihakushō. Hell, they even had katana stashed in their dark belts.

Just what in the world were these people?!

Uryū tapped the earpiece Sakura had given him, hoping the Phantoms had already donned their own. "They're here." He whispered. "Six Adjuchas, and two unknowns."

"Got it." Sakura's voice chimed into his ears. "The Phantoms' ETA is ten minutes – try to keep them distracted, but no funny business!"

Turning his full attention back to the men, he saw the larger of them stretching, seemingly oblivious to the stunned Quincy standing before him. The man was massive – well over two metres tall, and no slouch in the width department either. His chin was obscured by a Hollow's jawbone, and despite his thick sideburns and black ponytail, his head was shaved bald.

"Yuck! Why does anyone bother coming to this place?" He whined petulantly. "The souls taste like garbage!"

"Did you really expect such thin souls to taste good?" His companion replied, and while the words were sarcastic, there wasn't a hint of emotion in the smaller man's voice.

In sharp contrast to the first intruder, he was of average height with a slender build. The man's dark hair was messy, and bone plating that almost resembled a horned helmet covered half of his head. Green streaks dripped down from under his eyes, cutting through his eerily pale skin like tears.

The dour man forward, casting an expressionless glance back towards the Adjuchas. "Go. You know your mission."

As the Hollows shuffled on their haunches, clearly about to scatter, Uryū's heart started to hammer. Racing forward in a panic, he launched a dozen arrows at the beasts. Caught off guard, they screeched, but it was purely due to the shock of the attack – the projectiles had bounced off their skin harmlessly. That was okay though – the Quincy hadn't been aiming to wound, but to keep them in place. The only tactical option available to him right now was to stall - this wasn't a fight he'd win.

"Hold it right there!" The Quincy snapped, fear fluttering in his chest as he skidded down the crater's side.

The brawny man arched a brow, finally noticing his presence. "Hm? You know who this is, Ulquiorra?" A vicious grin then cleaved its way across his face. "Is he one of the ones we're meant to kill?"

"No, Yammy." The shorter man shook his head as he scanned Uryū impassively. "He's nothing but trash."

The flash of indignation that ran through Uryū more than eclipsed his nervousness. "Trash? Don't be conceited. I am Ishida Uryū, a Quincy of Karakura! I don't know who you are, or what you want with my home, but know this – if you want to harm this place, you'll have to go through me!"

Yammy stepped forward, rubbing his clenched fist as the predatory edge to his Reiatsu grew increasingly prominent. "Heh. That sounds fun."

Ulquiorra ignored him and gave the Adjuchas a pointed look. Horror blossomed in Uryū's heart as the Hollows flashed away, scattering in every direction. No! He had one duty, and he'd failed.

Desperation running through him, Uryū took a couple of potshots at the Hollows. While one of his arrows pierced an Adjuchas' leg, Yammy deflected the others with a flick of his wrist. Before Uryū could even blink, the gargantuan man was upon him. Letting out a huff of amusement, Yammy attempted to swat Uryū like a fly. He dodged the man's blow, but only just – for someone his size, the redhead was far, far too fast. Without a moment's delay, the man struck again, almost smashing his fist through the Quincy's head. Even though Uryū managed to lean out of the attack's way, Yammy struck with so much force, the displaced air nearly bowled him over.

The bespectacled teen cursed. If he made even a single misstep, he'd be dead. Flashing backwards, he put some distance between himself and Yammy, under no illusions he'd brought himself much time at all. Still, a split second was all he needed to see Ulquiorra disappearing into the forest. A wave of dismay ran over him, but Uryū didn't have the time to wallow in self-pity. Instead, he began his counterattack, peppering his enemy with arrows.

This isn't a battle I can win, but Yammy looks like a close-range fighter. I might have failed to hold up the others, but if I maintain my distance, I should at least be able to keep him away from anyone else.

Despite knowing that, as half of his arrows bounced off the man's hide, Uryū's stomach clenched in despair.

"That's all you've got? No wonder Ulquiorra thinks you're trash!" Yammy snorted. "You talk a lot of shit for someone so weak!"

Yammy charged, but Uryū merely rolled his eyes and dodged the man's clumsy blow. Now that he'd had some time to adjust to the pace of the battle, the Quincy realised that despite the redhead's brutal speed, his enemy practically telegraphed his every move. Good for him, not so good for Yammy.

"For someone so predictable, you have an awfully high opinion of yourself too." The Quincy snarked.

A ferocious scowl crossed the giant man's face. "You'll pay for that, brat!"

He reared his head backwards, and Uryū jolted in shock as a ball of blistering red energy formed in Yammy's mouth – it was a Cero. The Quincy had no time to dodge, and immediately channelled all the Reishi he could into his Blut Vene. It was a good choice. As the burning beam of light struck him, it seared his skin and melted his uniform, but Uryū gritted his teeth, and despite the pain managed to stay on his feet.

"Hah! You're gonna be nothing but a chunk of strawberry jam now, Quincy!" Yammy jeered, but his grin was quickly replaced by a comical look of shock as he saw his opponent was still in one piece.

Grinning, Uryū ignored his cracked glasses. "You were saying?"

Despite his bravado though, he knew he wouldn't be able to take another direct hit like that. Maybe if I use Blut Arterie, I could pierce Yammy's vitals… but no – if I drop my Blut Vene, I probably wouldn't even be able to withstand a glancing blow anymore…

His thoughts came to a halt, however, as a ball of fire sailed through the air and smashed into Yammy's head with enough force to send him staggering. Hope soared in Uryū's chest and an involuntary smile cracked across his features as Takamaki landed at his side, Shikai already unleashed. She wasn't alone – relief seeped through the Quincy as each of the combat-orientated Phantoms appeared in the clearing. Takamaki, Sakamoto, and Kurusu were all donned in the Shinigamis' Shihakushō, with Makoto as the sole outlier in her Shujin gear.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size, asshole?!" Sakamoto snarled.

"Yeah – like all of us put together!" Takamaki cheered.

Meanwhile, Kurusu approached Uryū, hands already glowing green with Kaidō. "Here – let me patch up the worst of that."

Uryū nodded, shoving his pride to the side. As Kurusu ran his hands over the larger burns that lacerated his body, pain Uryū didn't even know he had faded into nothing but a dull ache - Yammy's Cero had hurt him more than he'd thought.

"I'm sorry – the Adjuchas managed to escape." Uryū winced. "There's another of these Hollow people running around too."

Kurusu's frown grew deeper, brows furrowing, but before he could reply, someone else's voice echoed across the clearing.

"They're called Arrancar, Ishida-kun. Hollows who have abandoned their masks to gain the powers of a Shinigami." Urahara suddenly shunpoed between the Phantoms and Yammy, Yoruichi at his side. The shopkeeper then glanced at the teens, none of his usual levity in his eyes. "Hunt down those Adjuchas – we can deal with things here."

…..

Ann dashed through Karakura's streets, panting. Each of the Phantoms had gone their separate ways – there were simply too many Hollows for them to take them on together. Thankfully, Urahara had connected Futaba to his own Reiatsu sensing network, so the teen could provide the support she usually did.

"You're gonna have to pick up the pace, Panther!" The hacker warned. "Your target's nearing people!"

Cursing, Ann channelled more Reiatsu to her aching legs. She made a note to herself that once this situation was dealt with, she really needed to ask Ryuji for some shunpo tips – compared to the boys, she was abysmal at it.

Thankfully, as the blonde turned the corner, she almost ran straight into the Hollow she was pursuing. The serpentine creature slithered in the direction of a park where some middle schoolers were in the midst of a soccer game. Lashing out Shinkubi, Ann hurtled a ball of fire into the Adjuchas' side. The flames detonated with enough force to shake the ground, making one of the children fumble her kick, but even then, the Hollow was barely scathed.

Still, it had done the job – namely, she'd caught the creature's attention.

"Oi, over here!" Ann cracked her whip. "I'm far tastier than any schoolkid would be."

"Really? How nice…" The Adjuchas crooned, licking its lips with its forked tongue before coiling up and lunging at Ann.

A flash of inspiration ran through the teen, and she darted to the side, flicking Shinkubi directly into the Hollow's path. As its jaws clamped down, it bit nothing but her whip, which was exactly what Ann wanted it to do. Whirling around to the Hollow's back, she grabbed both of Shinkubi's ends, forming an impromptu set of reins. The blonde yanked backwards, and the Hollow bucked and swayed, attempting to throw her off it. Despite the steadying increasing ache in her biceps, however, Ann held on tight. Her Shikai blazed in a fiery glow as it started to bite into the Adjuchas' jaw, burning through its mask and skin alike. After what felt like an age, Shinkubi finally hit the Hollow's spine, and its thrashing quickly ceased. As the Hollow fell to earth, it burst into Reishi underneath her, and Ann stumbled as she hit the pavement.

Exhausted, she wiped the sweat off her brow and tapped her earpiece. "Panther here – I've dealt with my Hollow. Give me a shout if you need backup!"

As she leant against a tree, however, she hoped the answer to that would be 'no'. Even though Ann was practically unscathed aside from some bruising, she'd burnt through a massive chunk of Reiatsu. Opening her phone, she quickly discovered why – she'd been on the Hollow's back for almost ten minutes. Ann's stomach twisted in worry as it dawned on her how lucky she'd been.

Please… let everyone be okay!

…..

Ryuji cursed, coughing out a mouthful of blood as the Hollow's meaty claw tore into his lung. For a split second, his vision faded, and he was only jolted back to reality when he hit the ground. Shit! He hissed as he pushed himself upright. Pull yourself together, man! I ain't gonna get taken down by some overgrown Hollow! Despite his resolution, however, his Shikai felt heavier than a sack of bricks, and the blond was barely able to keep the cannon-bat upright as he stared his enemy down.

The blond had found the Hollow half-collapsed in an outdoors shopping strip, one of Ishida's glowy blue arrows jutting out of its calf. Unfortunately, it had noticed Ryuji instantly, and had unleashed a relentless wave of Ceros at the boy. The blond had initially wanted to hit it with one of Sorakaizoku's thunder blasts, but it wasn't giving Ryuji the space to strike, so he'd flashed in close in hopes he'd be able to get a solid hit in. Instead, he'd almost ended up impaled on one of the beast's four arms.

The Hollow chittered, and despite the lack of words, Ryuji could still hear its mocking tone.

"Dammit…" He spat out a glob of blood. While he had a decent amount of Reiryoku left, with a wound this bad, he knew he was on a timer.

It was at that moment that an unfamiliar voice echoed through the mall. "Gah! What the hell is that?!

Freezing, Ryuji's head snapped to the side - two girls in grey uniforms had almost walked straight into the Hollow. One of them had short spikey black hair, and judging by her expression of disgust, she was the origin of the voice. Her companion – a busty redhead – merely blinked owlishly, but she could clearly see the monster too. Ryuji cursed. If they could see the Hollow, it meant they had enough Reiatsu to be tempting targets.

Flashing into shunpo, he knocked the girls down just in time for the Hollow's claws to go sailing over where they once stood. The trio toppled to the floor with a thud, and pain exploded in the blond's chest as he let out another hacking cough – he must have hit something when he fell. The darker-haired girl yelped, struggling under his weight, until the Hollow let out a furious bellow and she sensibly stilled.

Dammit – I need to get them out of here, but I can barely move!

The redhead ended up beating him to the punch. Scrambling to her feet, she grabbed him and her friend with a surprising amount of strength and dashed away. Pounding down the road, she hauled them into a half-demolished storefront just outside the crippled Hollow's reach.

Ryuji immediately collapsed against the shop's cracked wall. As more blood welled up in his throat, he threw caution to the wind and attempted some highly improvised Kaidō. Patchy green energy flickered into his palm, and he pressed his hand over chest, gritting his teeth as the burning in his lung was joined by a blistering itch. He was pretty damn sure healing magic was not meant to feel like that. When the light in his hands spluttered and died though, Ryuji felt like he could breathe slightly easier, so he'd take it as a win.

"Are you okay?" The redhead frowned, hazelnut eyes glimmering with concern.

Ryuji gave her a sluggish nod. "Yeah – I'll live. Look, you two need to get out of here, got it? That thing's dangerous, and now that it knows you can see it, you're prime targets."

The black-haired girl furrowed her brow. "… You're not gonna try and fight it like that, are you? You can barely stand."

Ryuji lips moved into a thin line as he shrugged. "Someone's gotta take it down, and right now, I'm the only one who can."

"Oh!" The redhead chimed. "What if we help? Maybe we could help distract it! You said it'd try to attack us, right?"

He opened his mouth, about to shoot her suggestion down, before he stilled. Maybe it wasn't such a terrible idea. If Ryuji put all his power into it, one good shot from Sorakaizoku might be able to take the Hollow down. As much as he didn't like the thought of putting someone into the line of fire like that, Ryuji didn't think he had any choice.

"You two any good at running?" He asked.

"I got second place in the junior women's karate regional championship. I'm pretty fit." The darker-haired girl commented. "Orihime is in good shape, too."

The redhead – Orihime – nodded. "Tatsuki's the strongest person I know!"

Ryuji didn't think strength particularly mattered in this case, but at the very least, Tatsuki would have a realistic idea of what her capabilities were, and her assessment of Orihime was probably right too.

He adjusted Sorakaizoku, flipping off the cannon's lid. "If you can distract it for just a second, I should be able to get in a good hit. Hopefully, that'll be enough to finish the bastard off."

The girls exchanged a determined glance.

"Got it." Tatsuki replied.

"I've always wanted to fight a monster!" Orihime cheered, but the smile didn't quite meet her eyes – it was clear she understood just how much danger they were all in.

As the girls slinked out of the store, Tatsuki clenching her fists, Ryuji shunpoed to the rooftops, attempting to keep his Reiatsu under wraps as he got as close to the Hollow as he dared. Readying his Shikai, he gave the girls a nod.

"Oi! Over here!" Tatsuki yelled, lobbing a stone at the Hollow.

It harmlessly bounced off the creature's hide, but the Adjuchas' head snapped in her direction anyway. Immediately, Ryuji shunpoed behind the wounded beast, Sorakaizoku already crackling with electricity. The Hollow rapidly turned back to face him, a Cero half-charged in its mouth, but before it could unleash it, Ryuji fired. As lightning and laser met, they detonated on impact. The force of the blast was enough to reduce the Hollow's head to paste, and if Ryuji hadn't braced himself, he would have been sent flying.

The Hollow disintegrated into motes of dust, and a wave of relief crashed down on him like a waterfall. Thank fucking god – that was way too close. Leaping down from the rooftops, he jogged over to the girls and reached them just in time to hear Orihime's giddy exclamation.

"Did you see that, Tatsuki?!"

"Um, yeah." Tatsuki blinked owlishly, staring at where the Hollow had once stood in shock. As she saw Ryuji approaching, she shot him a boyish grin. "Not half-bad, Phantom!"

Ryuji staggered, eyes wide. "W-what?!"

"Oh, come on – it's fairly obvious." Tatsuki arched a brow, crossing her arms. "… Honestly, I've always kind of been a fan. Now go – we can handle things here!"

Orihime nodded along vigorously. "That's right! I've already got three cover stories planned for when the cops turn up!"

"… Heh, thanks!" Ryuji grinned, before running off.

The blond barely made it two blocks away before his second wind faded. Wheezing, he landed on the roof of a convenience store, slumping against a ventilation shaft. The momentary relief his botched Kaidō had brought him had gone, and his lung throbbed so intensely his vision was going white. Despite that though, Ryuji couldn't help but laugh, a giddy smile sprawling across his face. The Menos Grande that entered Shibuya barely two months ago had looked like an insurmountable enemy, but look at him now – he'd taken down an Adjuchas almost singlehandedly, and had tangibly saved multiple lives in the process.

I might be behind the rest of you… but I still have enough power to help people.

Unfortunately, he knew couldn't rest on his laurels for long – if Ryuji didn't get medical attention soon, he'd be a goner.

Hands trembling, he tapped his headpiece and wheezed. "Yo, Panther! I took my Hollow down, but it managed to get me good. Mind if I borrow your magic hands? It turns out my Kaidō is crap."

"… Skull, your Kaidō is non-existent." Ann sighed. "Hold on – I'll be there soon!"

…..

Akira stabbed his blade through the back of the Adjuchas' head, and with a dying gargle, the Hollow melted to dust. Nearby, Makoto yelled, casting a Heizen, and Akira looked up just in time to see a slab of Reishi smash through her target's torso.

Breath slowing, Akira tapped his earpiece. "Alibaba, Queen and I have taken out our foes. What's everyone's status?"

"Yoruichi and Urahara are still whaling away at that Arrancar guy. Dunno where the other one is – I can't pick him up on my sensors. Hopefully, he's gone home." He could almost hear Futaba's frown – it was clear she didn't feel optimistic about that. "Skull and Panther have taken out their targets, but they're low on energy, especially Skull. I don't think they're up for another fight. Ginger is still finishing off his foe, but his readings are solid, so I'm not worried about him. There's one more Adjuchas – do you and Queen have enough fight left in you to take it out?"

He exchanged a glance with Makoto, who nodded before she reached a hand to her ear. "I think so. Give us the coordinates, and we'll go there at once."

The duo followed Futaba's directions, and slipping out of shunpo, found themselves on the outskirts of an abandoned hospital. Weathered and grey, the building had partially collapsed, revealing once-white floors littered with debris. Unfortunately, it was impossible to see the bulk of the building's interior – dark shadows obscured the semi-roofless sections, and the rest of the hospital had its moth-eaten curtain drawn.

Makoto shuddered, frowning. "Oh, I don't like this at all…"

While Akira lacked her aversion to horror, he couldn't blame her. "Something's off, that's for sure."

The air was damp, ladened with a thick miasma that lingered like mould. While he could tell the Hollow was nearby, it had hidden itself well – if it wasn't for the faint traces of Reiatsu and the eerie sensation that he was being watched, Akira might have thought Futaba was mistaken.

Carefully guarding each other's backs, the teens progressed into the hospital. Their wariness was warranted – the second they crossed the building's threshold and entered the dust-laden foyer, the Hollow struck. A blur leapt across the rafters, shooting bullet-like projectiles at the teens, and they scattered to avoid getting skewered.

A sizzling noise echoed through the hospital, and glancing upwards, Akira finally got a good look at the Hollow. It had flattened itself against the roof, two of its four hands digging unnaturally long fingers into the crumbling plaster. They were more tentacles than flesh or bone, and nails slowly bubbled back into existence on the unoccupied hands' tips. Gross – that must have been what the Hollow shot at them.

"Hmm… speedy humans. Not speedy enough for Iceringer, however."

Akira's brow furrowed as the Hollow leapt down from the ceiling. Hold on – there's something off with his voice.

The reason why quickly became apparent. As Iceringer turned its head towards him, Akira realised with a jolt that he wasn't a Hollow after all. Given the spikes jutting from his back, his multiple arms, and non-existent legs, Akira couldn't blame Ishida for missing it. There was a slither missing from his beak-like mask, which revealed an uncomfortably human eye. He was no Adjuchas, but an Arrancar.

The sole remnant of Iceringer's humanity narrowed into a slit, and he hurtled himself at Akira without further ado. The Arrancar's fingers morphed into claws as they struck at the teen, who parried them with his Zanpakutō. Iceringer's nails suddenly glowed, and with a curse, Akira rolled away and cast a quick barrier spell. As the keratin bullets shot out from Iceringer's fingers, they smashed into his Kidō, shattering it. Roaring, Makoto entered the fray and charged at Iceringer's back, but two of his arms swivelled at unnatural angles, and she was forced to brace herself as with a crackling rattle, he shot at least a hundred of his spear-like nails her way.

It was then that inspiration struck the frizzy-haired teen. These Arrancar things were part Shinigami, right? And that would mean that they could potentially feel regret, remorse, and guilt, just like any human could and Hollow couldn't.

"Steal their hearts, Tasogare no Dorobō!" Akira chanted.

As soon as he released his Shikai, however, Akira could immediately feel that something was wrong. His Reiatsu surged uncontrollably, and pain exploded behind his eyes as darkness clawed through his vision.

"Regret? Remorse? Guilt? Hah…! This creature is nothing but prey, not even deserving the chance of redemption! Let us give it the judgement it deserves!"

Wait, what? No – no no no no no no. A wave of pure fear shot through Akira. Makoto was barely three metres away! Collapsing to his knees, the boy clawed at his face. He couldn't let the Hollow win – he couldn't let it hurt her! Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get OUT OF MY HEAD!

"Cease pretending you do not share my rage! Our anger at this world is what gives us our power! Gives us OUR STRENGTH!"

"Akira?!" His friend shrieked, her words sounding muffled as if she was underwater.

Iceringer laughed, and the Substitute Shinigami was snapped back to reality as pain exploded in his shoulder, the Arrancar pinning him to the wall with its extendable digits. The corrupted Tasogare no Dorobō vanished from his mind as quickly as he'd arrived, but the boy's brain had been left feeling like lead in the spirit's wake. He wasn't sure what hurt more – Iceringer's impalement or the ache in his head. To make matters worse, Akira found himself exhausted – his inner Hollow had disrupted his Reiatsu, emptying out his Reiryoku reserves in the process. He barely had the energy to raise his head and meet Iceringer's eyes.

The Arrancar chuckled, every single one of its bullet claws pointed straight at Akira. "This is the end for you, Shinigami boy."

"Heizen!" Makoto's panicked shout echoed through the air.

The column of Reishi obliterated Iceringer's head before sailing straight through the hospital's wall, knocking it down like a demolition ball. Gasping, Akira sank to the floor as the Arrancar disintegrated, the claws holding him in place vanishing. A cloud of dust settled over him and the teenager coughed, not entirely sure about the true origin of the chalky taste in his throat.

Footsteps echoed across the abandoned hospital, and Makoto was at his side in a heartbeat, red eyes wide with concern. "Are you okay?!"

"Yeah…" Akira winced half-heartedly, as he began to patch up the holes in his shoulder. "I'm fine."

…..

Yoruichi watched impassively as Yammy groaned, staggering to his feet. The Arrancar's skin was bloodied and bruised and his teeth chipped, but it seemed he was still determined to crush herself and Kisuke into pulp. His relentlessness didn't particularly phase Yoruichi – quite frankly, several of the Phantoms working in tandem could have probably taken him down, let alone two Captain-class fighters. Still, she had to admit he was tougher than she'd initially estimated – punching him felt like punching solid steel, and both her arm and leg throbbed.

"I'll kill you, you fucking bitch!" Yammy roared, but his step faltered, and he almost ended up crashing to the ground.

Kisuke strolled forward, his Zanpakutō loosely held in his grip. He'd released Benihime earlier, his cane sword broadening into a thicker blade. It was not the weapon's new shape, however, but the glowing red energy bubbling around it that made Benihime so dangerous. With time to charge, Kisuke's Nake technique would cleave Yammy in two.

It was then though that an ominous crack suddenly echoed through the air, and looking to the sky, Yoruichi froze as a dark, gaping maw opened in the sea of blue – a distinctive shape that could have only belonged to a Hollow's Garganta. Her trepidation turned to horror, however, as not one, or two, but six Arrancars walked out of the portal.

Yammy glanced towards them, a ferocious snarl on his face. "Grimmjow?! The hell are you here for?"

The man leading the procession - a lanky fellow with electric blue hair and a wild grin - leapt down to his comrade's side. "Isn't that obvious? You and Ulquiorra were taking too long, so I thought I'd gather my boys and show you how things are done!"

Oh, fuck. Yoruichi gritted her teeth. Grimmjow's Reiatsu was clearly Captain level, and his companions were all at least Lieutenant class. The Phantoms had already had to battle their way through at least one Adjuchas each – would they have the stamina to take on another enemy of similar calibre?

It was a question that thankfully didn't need to be answered. On the opposite end of the sky to the Arrancars' Garganta, a rectangle of glowing red light formed, before solidifying into a pair of shoji screen doors. As the Senkaimon swung open, a smirk crept across Yoruichi's lips as she saw who was waiting on the other side.

Soifon met her gaze, her former protégé giving her a curt nod. Omaeda stood behind her, his nose wrinkled at the sight of the Arrancar. To his right, Hitsugaya surveyed the scene stoically, an unusually serious Matsumoto at his side. Two more Shinigami accompanied them, though Yoruichi didn't recognise either of them – one of them was a bald man who was clearly from the 11th, and he was accompanied by a dapper man with a bob and feathered eyelashes. Judging by their Reiatsu, they would clearly be able to keep up with the others, even if they were lower ranked.

"Oh my. Karakura's getting a lot of visitors today." Kisuke smirked, and with a flick of his wrist, sent a wave of red light hurtling towards Grimmjow and Yammy.

Scowling, the blue-haired Arrancar darted out of the way, but Yammy was too slow, and Kisuke's attack sliced cleanly through his torso. Choking for air, blood spurted from Yammy's wounds as he collapsed to the ground. While he wasn't dead yet, it'd just be a matter of time.

"Be careful." Yoruichi whispered as she shunpoed to Soifon's side. "There's something unusual about their skin. Use your Shunkō if you don't want to fracture any bones on contact."

Soifon looked down at the Arrancar dismissively as she tossed her haori to the side. "Very well – I have no intention of getting hurt in this fight."

Before she could enter the battlefield, however, Yammy somehow managed to push himself upright, and Yoruichi's eyes widened in shock as the Arrancar unsheathed his Zanpakutō.

"Damn you all to hell! I'm not some fucking weakling – I'm the Diez Espada, Yammy Llargo! I'll crush you all like the bugs you are! Enrage, Ira!"

…..

Kurosaki Ichigo frowned, glancing over his shoulder. Unfortunately, while he knew he was a perfectly ordinary high school student who kept his head down and got decent grades, a lot of other people missed that memo. He'd gotten into more than his fair share of scraps with wannabe delinquents who took one look at him and immediately jumped to the conclusion he was from a rival gang. For fuck's sake, it wasn't his fault his natural hair colour was bright orange!

Still, as a result, he'd gotten pretty good at picking up when trouble was on its way. Though, maybe that was actually because his dumbass dad attempted to give him impromptu karate lessons every morning. Truthfully, the origin of his skill didn't matter – either way, every hair on the back of his neck was prickling and alarm blared in his mind, screaming danger, danger, danger.

No matter how hard he looked, however, he saw nothing. The street looked so ordinary it was almost banal. Small apartment buildings surrounded him, telephone pole wires crossed over his head, and the scent of something baking filled the air. There were no punks with shivs loitering on the street's corners – hell, there weren't even any ghosts.

Sweeping a hand through his hair, Ichigo sighed. Whatever – there was no point loitering. He had homework to do. If someone tried to jump him, he'd just kick their ass.

A cracking noise then echoed through the air, and mere moments later an explosion of agony burst in his sternum. Vision failing, Ichigo's heartbeat pounded in his head and blood bubbled in his throat as he glanced downwards. Something pale and bloody was jutting out of his chest, and it took his failing brain several seconds to realise it was a hand. It was the last thing he saw before darkness overtook him, and his soul slipped out of his now-dead body.