Thanks for beta reading MagellanicClouds! uvu You saved me
Kurosaki Isshin
His son was not kind. Not anymore. He'd let go of that delusion when he'd stabbed an unconscious enemy in the back. The boy he knew was gone, replaced by a near stranger. His son had lived a lifetime of horrors Isshin never wanted for him; a war Isshin had pulled down on his family by the very nature of what he was.
From what he'd come to understand, it was possible his son had been the only one capable of ending it, but that didn't mean he was proud that his son had been forced to clean up a mess from a life he'd long left behind.
Ichigo grew up strong. Isshin had shamefully hoped he would be powerless, that he might be spared a world of bloodshed and battles, but he'd sensed his reiatsu grow and flourish, and he willfully turned a blind eye. Urahara taught him in his place, because he couldn't bear to face his son. He was a coward sometimes, right when it mattered.
Isshin hid behind the lie that his children could decide for themselves. It was a nasty lie, one that still haunted him. He'd been selfish and cruel to let Ichigo face Soul Society alone. Byakuya could have been callous, he could have slain his son in the street, and that would have been all on him. He'd bet his son's life on people he knew were not known to be kind.
He'd been facing that, owning up to his mistakes. It took time to see how truly warped Ichigo had become. He'd had hope that wasn't the case, but he'd been wrong. It was one thing to face the consequences of his decisions head on, but to suddenly skip years of hardship, to see the impact his decisions had made on Ichigo years into the future...Isshin wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse.
Perhaps it was both. He didn't have to see the grief wearing his son down into veritable madness, but he also didn't have years to adjust. It was a shock to see that his son had become a killer. That he was good at it. It was painful to see just how little he trusted, and to know every ounce of mistrust had been earned.
Initially, Isshin had been afraid of Ichigo. He'd seen what he did to people by accident. What was to stop him from killing his sisters? For a time, he saw the monster everyone else did, but beneath all that rage, he caught glimpses of the son he'd raised, and he was reminded they were the same. The illusion fell away, and he felt foolish. His couldn't see a monster anymore. He saw only his son; Masaki's boy. He thought Masaki might be disappointed in him. He couldn't fill the hole she'd left behind, he couldn't be the shoulder for his children to cry on, to depend on. He didn't know how to be. The words Masaki had spoken so easily died in his throat, and he was left feeling nothing but loss.
Never in his life would he wish that loss on anyone, let alone his own flesh and blood.
The look of pure anguish on Ichigo's face was reflected in Isshin's soul, cutting deeper than any blade ever could. It wasn't something he should have been able to feel, it felt wildly intrusive, and the small, animal part of his brain recoiled and needed it to cease. Ichigo's pain hit him straight in the gut, and he could no longer tell it apart from his own.
If he'd had any doubts about his son and Grimmjow, they fled in that single, crushing moment. Ichigo loved that arrancar.
He depended on him, leaned on him, loved him, and this thing took him. It was quick, as those things often were. Isshin didn't think Ichigo even had the time to fathom what he'd lost.
Despondent, cautious blue eyes were devoid of any compassion, they were devoid of anything. His gut screamed at him that this thing was wrong, it was death itself and this arrancar was its corpse to play with.
He wasn't looking at Grimmjow anymore. This wasn't the same arrancar that had sacrificed himself for the sake of Ichigo's sisters.
Isshin was grateful he had. He was more than grateful for that. God, he was grateful. A few more seconds, and that monster could be wearing one of his little girls. The very notion had him tasting bile.
That coursing dark churned and boiled around the pair in angry waves, seemingly eager, desperate. Hissing and howling voices filled the silence, pressing into his brain with a prickly persistence. He pulled his girls closer, holding them back from the dark that surged around their brother.
They forgot their own fear, they didn't need a direct line to Ichigo's soul to see he was suffering. He yanked Karin back by her arm when she slipped from his grasp. "No! Karin!"
She whirled on him, a clawing fear in her eyes that he'd never seen before. She screamed, "Are we supposed to do nothing?!"
The desperate pitch in her voice made his heart clench in pain he didn't want to feel. Not now, this was no time to grieve.
He couldn't see his son's face, only black hair, snagged by an unnatural wind. "Ichigo!" If Ichigo heard him, he made no sign of it, and Isshin couldn't hear the words that they shared, not beneath the angry voices of the Gods.
Dread was sinking too deep into his son's heart to uproot, and it was justified.
Grimmjow disappeared, his figure rippling as if a mirage, until Isshin had to question if he'd ever been there at all. His son stood still, far too still for the utter chaos in his soul. This went beyond grief. Something in his son had broken.
Isshin untangled himself from his daughters and straightened, the air suddenly silent, the wind dead. He circled around to face his son rather than startle him and wind up dead. His sandals scuffed concrete as he stepped off into the street, circling his son in a wide arch.
He finally came around to face him and his breath tangled in his throat. He didn't see a monster now, he saw his son as he had when he was a child. Swaths of black painted his cheeks and obscured his expression, but Isshin saw the agony there as plain as it was the day his mother was stolen from them. Those weren't the eyes of a killer, those were the eyes of a fearful, lost boy.
"Ichigo?"
Golden eyes snapped to his, shoulders moving with a sharp intake of breath, and his son was gone, la sangre curling in the space he'd just been standing. Isshin clenched his jaw, his breath squeezed from a tight heart, but the next was slow, steady. He couldn't afford to panic.
Turning back to the house, Karin stood, shoulders hunched and arms crossed, side by side with Yuzu. "Why did he do that? Why would he protect us?"
The fullbringer stood a few feet away, but curiously hadn't left. He hadn't seemed to be there of his own will, but something kept him lingering and observing. The question Karin had him looking to Isshin for an answer.
Reaching for both of them, he pulled them into a stiff, awkward hug. The adrenaline hadn't quite worn off, and both of them were shaking. His daughters wanted to be tough, but this was a lot to ask of them, and they didn't shove him off. For whatever reason, they chose not to make close friends, they kept everyone at arm's length but each other, and after seeing what their brother went through, he couldn't blame them for fearing the worst from everyone they came into contact with.
He squeezed Yuzu's shoulder when she sniffed, biting back tears. "Because Ichigo loves you both, and Grimmjow knew that," he said. His daughters were smart, they'd seen that look in the arranar's eyes, they knew the answer before the question had even been raised. They only voiced it because it wasn't fair.
That arrancar had been Ichigo's pillar, as Masaki had been for Isshin. He'd had three young children to raise, he couldn't afford to fall apart. Ichigo had a whole universe depending on him, but the people he cared about we're too far out of reach...and the look in his eyes. Isshin's chest felt tight and sheer despair on his son's face. No amount of estigma could hide that from him. His son was...he couldn't do it.
Whatever fragile support system his son had cobbled together was broken, and now he couldn't be sure what he would do. That was a frightening thought.
He looked at Kugo. "Drink lots of water, avoid alcohol for a day, and take some aspirin. Please leave." He'd fulfilled his duty as a doctor, but his tolerance for strangers was already at zero, especially a stranger that had been a hostage up until a few minutes ago.
For some reason, Kugo looked ready to argue. Rather than deal with him, he kept himself between Kugo and his daughters and went straight for his phone. He called Kisuke, and to his surprise, the shopkeeper spoke first. "What happened?"
"I was hoping you could tell me."
There was a pause, the tapping of plastic keys, and Kisuke answered, "Come by. We have a lot to talk about." He paused and added, "Bring the Fullbringer."
Isshin hung up, looked at Kugo, and the man took a few steps back. "No, I'm not getting involved in any more shinigami shit. I'm leaving."
Isshin made a sound of disagreement. "No, you're not."
"You deaf?"
Kugo turned his back; a bold move on the property of a very angry shinigami. "What did my son promise you?" Isshin asked.
Kugo froze and looked back. "What?"
"I know my son. What did he promise you?"
Kugo's eyes narrowed. "The truth."
"Fine. You'll get it. Kisuke will listen to your story." Isshin gestured. "But you have to come with me."
Kugo stared, then bared his teeth in a grimace. "Fine."
-xxx-
Zangetsu
If Zangetsu could attest to any sort of fear, it was staring him in the face. Ichigo was lost. Whatever control he had over his power hadn't merely slipped, it was in a freefall. But he wasn't so far gone that he didn't flee where it would cause less harm. His reiatsu flooded Hueco Mundo with a pressure it's inhabitants couldn't feel, but it was inexorably tied to his control over the Gods. La sangre was in chaos, black waves hungry for prey it was denied.
Ichigo wasn't going to let Grimmjow die, it wasn't a decision he could make. If the very notion of losing him drove him to this, Zangetsu didn't want to imagine the fallout if he actually killed the arrancar. Shinigami was safe, Ichigo was no longer a threat to him.
"Shinigami." Zangetsu hissed the name like a curse.
Ichigo's inner world fared worse than the real world. Black sand seeped through the cracks in Ichigo's inner world, trickling into the empty buildings in his heart. Outside that small haven, the wind howled, drenched in bodiless voices.
Even if he'd dragged Ichigo here, he was nearly unresponsive. The black streaks down his wielder's cheeks shone with tears, teeth clenched in pain and rage. His bloodlust sank into his heart like a hot blade, desperate and eager to kill something no longer within reach.
Zangetsu had seen something similar before. Similar but not the same. Grimmjow was still alive, they could both feel his soul burn at the edge of their consciousness. He was alive, and even with all this power, Ichigo could do nothing to free him.
Glass crunched under Zangetsu's feet as he stepped closer, reaching out to touch his cheek. "I'll do it."
"No."
"Ichigo, Grimmjow is only the first. Do you want to lose him, or everything?"
"I can't."
Zangetsu twisted his hand in his hair and Ichigo turned his head to meet the pain, baring his throat. Zangetsu snarled, "I can!" Ichigo didn't need to speak, he was begging him with all his heart. "I can make you!"
"Yes," Ichigo whispered. His voice was lost among the howling wind and the rattle of glass in cracking frames. If he forced Ichigo's hand, he would break him.
Ichigo had forced Zangetsu before. His blade had broken, snapped under the will of a stronger enemy, but never by Ichigo's hand. Ichigo had never willfully disregarded his feelings or used him as a tool.
He'd seen the result of that in Kenpachi. His sword screamed, nameless and betrayed by its wielder. What would that be like, to suffer a partnership so toxic? To cut Ichigo so deeply he never trusted him again?
For all that he blamed Ichigo for, Zangetsu couldn't imagine doing it himself. He could decry his wielder all he wanted, but they were one in the same. Neither of them could hurt the one they wanted to protect. His grip in his hair loosened, shifting to the back of his neck.
He leaned forward, dropping his head to rest against Ichigo's in a touch that was unusually gentle. Gentleness wasn't something that came naturally to a weapon, but he was more than a sharp edge. He was Ichigo's regret and pain and lost hope. His wielder didn't deserve this. To be reduced to this fearful, lost mess, forced to hide in his own soul.
Zangetsu whispered a promise. "Then the world can burn." Grimmjow wasn't dead, he was merely out of reach. "You will have him back, King."
-xxx-
Harribel
The sudden chaos that befell Hueco Mundo startled Harribel, but it was also painfully familiar. La sangre writhed through the floor and walls in rippling waves, restless and eager. It frothed around her feet, sometimes passing straight through her. It was unsettling, but not painful, and she knew it damn well could have been. "Ichigo..." It would have been expectant, and perhaps smart, to assume this was the product of rage.
If she were strong enough to feel the hybrid's reiatsu, she might have been certain, but her gut told her this wasn't anger, but pain. Past experience might have led her to assume it was rage, but that wasn't the aura she felt from la sangre.
Without pausing to think, she reached for the communicator to pull up Ichigo's location. She got nothing. Broken or jammed, it hardly mattered when it wouldn't work.
She dropped everything to seek out Szayel. She fell into sonido, rushing past oblivious and confused arrancar. La sangre clung to some of the weaker ones, but even if it chose to eat them, there was nothing she could do about it that she wasn't already doing.
it was uncomfortable to run without seeing the floor. The ground had disappeared beneath a carpet of darkness, but she could still hear the ring of her heels on solid stone.
Szayel seemed busy when she step foot in his lab. She didn't shout, but she did make an effort to project her voice. "Where is he?"
The scientist was hunched over a console, reading lines of data she simply didn't understand. His voice was clipped "I'm still looking."
"What's taking so long?"
Szayel made an irritated noise and swiveled in his chair to snatch a handheld device from a table to her left. He tapped the screen and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear, exposing the scar on his face. If he was so distracted that he would so carelessly bare a scar that caused him such shame, then he really was doing all that he could. "Kurosaki is very powerful. When he spreads out his reiatsu and influence like this it's like trying to find the eye of a storm from inside the storm."
"Do you have an idea?"
Szayel made a hurried, tense sound, and rolled his chair back to the console spread. He pulled up a map and asked absently, "You can't mean to speak with him."
Harribel's answer was succinct. "I do." She felt it was her duty to step in, not only for the sake of every sentient being in Hueco Mundo, but as something of a friend. "You were looking for him before I ever got here.. why?"
Szayel stiffly shrugged. "Curiosity. Or perhaps self preservation." Amaranth eyes broke from their task. "You can't say you don't find it daunting that our lives are in the hands of one very unstable man."
It was a valid point, and one Harribel couldn't argue because it haunted every decision she made; her waking hours and restless nights. Kurosaki was their savior, but he was also their nightmare. A nightmare with the emotional stability of a madman.
She liked Kurosaki but he was, at his core, a threat. She wasn't sure if the tragedy was that Kurosaki himself knew this
She shifted her weight, restless. "A location, Szayel," she demanded,
He bared his teeth in a retort he didn't dare speak and said, "Take the tablet. If you must go, I'll update as I narrow the field of view. You might have better luck with a visual than I will, this power overloads sensors and leaves me blind."
Harribel lifted a hand to the communicator by her ear and called, "Neliel. Report to Szayel. Watch him, keep him on task."
An affirmative rang over the connection as Szayel drawled, "Hhnnn, don't trust me?"
"Of course not." Harribel picked up the tablet, got her bearings and left, her focus narrowing to the task at hand. Ichigo could be anywhere in an instant, she could only hope he would stay put until she could get close, and when she did, that he wouldn't run, or worse, kill her.
While she ran, her thoughts kept replaying the same hard discussion she'd had with Ichigo months ago. Some things might be uncertain, and some things Ichigo refused to tell her, but there were certainties: the hybrid couldn't die, la sangre had irreparably changed him, and he was torn between three Gods that had driven his predecessors mad.
She checked the tablet, then her surroundings, then sealed off the fear that flowed like ice through her veins. She was afraid, she had every right to be. The person she was approaching could be the man she knew, or he could be twisted by something she had no reason to trust.
All she could do was hope for the former. There was no hiding from this. This was the duty she'd asked for, that no one expected her to uphold, but she chose to burden herself with anyway. She was a queen.
-xxx-
Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez
Grimmjow was prepared to face death. He didn't regret saving Kurosaki's family, he'd never regret sparing him that, but he never thought he'd live to see so much despair on the hybrid's face.
He'd seen Kurosaki at his worst; in rage, pain, loneliness, or need, but this was too much.
Kurosaki looked shattered. That stricken look in his eyes wasn't one given by someone ignorant. Kurosaki knew exactly what was happening to him, he understood, and didn't that just make it worse.
Nothing had prepared him for this. He felt his own face stretch into a smile, he felt his shoulders shake with unwanted laughter, and his soul curdled in disgust.
If it wasn't enough to have to see his pain on his face, he had to feel it too. He had to sit back and witness something he'd caused, and he knew this was hell.
Years in solitude as an adjuchas we're nothing compared to this. He hurt. He thought he knew pain, but he was naive. This was a pain that had nothing to do with his body. There was no easy cure. His heart ached.
Something in Kurosaki snapped with each bone Shinigami had broken. He saw that irreversible something darken those amber eyes.
Grimmjow had gotten used to losing; Kurosaki beat him into the ground when they fought almost on the daily. Sometimes the hybrid even let him 'win', but it was never a true victory. That was too ambitious a goal for anyone alive. He'd bitterly thought of those skirmishes as loses. Now he saw it very differently.
This was worse than defeat. The sting didn't batter his pride, it crippled his soul. To feel his body move, his mouth form words he'd never speak, was violating. He'd seen Kurosaki succumb to the Gods, forced into action he never meant to take, but to feel it himself brought with it an entire realm of respect and fear. He understood now. He understood the fear in Kurosaki's eyes when he looked at him, when he lost control.
Grimmjow thought he knew what it meant to be powerless, and he'd been wrong. The panic that clawed its way up his throat was his own, but there was nowhere to run, nothing to fight. He'd lost.
It was no fucking wonder Kurosaki had issues.
That Shinigami bastard took him away, to an empty space unscarred by battle, but heavy with the burden of one. He felt it in the air, and he smelled it in the fear of the shinigami stranded there. They'd been played, they lost just as badly as anyone. Nothing but sacrifices, gathered together to feed a monster.
He was a walking meatsuit shield, Kurosaki didn't have the guts to kill him. Once, he'd had the resolve to do what he had to, but no longer. Love had softened that resolve, and it had proven to be a deathtrap for them both.
Grimmjow knew he was Kurosaki's weakness, but he'd naively hoped it would never be used against them. It was easy to think Kurosaki couldn't fail. He lost some, but in the end, the stubborn bastard eventually won.
Not this time.
It started with the conduits. Grimmjow wasn't even sure anymore if Kurosaki had killed them out of mercy or not.
There was an apology hidden in his eyes, the hybrid knew he'd rather die than be a slave in his own body. But Kurosaki couldn't kill him. He couldn't and he wouldn't try.
Did he blame Kurosaki for that?
Shinigami took his damn time strolling up to a shinigami. The fucker seemed to enjoy it, that or he didn't have a care in the world. It might have been both. In one move he'd gotten everything he could have wanted. He had the strongest shield he could have hoped for.
The shinigami scattered, a school of fish parting for a shark. Grimmjow knew he didn't look friendly, but this fear was instinctual. These shinigami sensed something big in the water even if they couldn't see it.
Shinigami used sonido as effortlessly as if Grimmjow's body were his own. But his body still didn't move right. It wasn't that he felt the movement was jarring or slow or stiff, it was simply wrong.
In one sharp motion, Shinigami caught a man by the shihakusho and ate him. He was still there, his hand was still clenched around fabric, but he now understood Kurosaki's horror.
The man's soul was just gone, siphoned into a void that promised true death. Grimmjow's guts roiled at the sensation, sitting backseat to something he thought he'd understood. There was eating a soul for power, and then there was this.
Stop.
The scraps of Alteza in his soul surged up with such violence, Shinigami hesitated, the body he'd stolen seizing up in agony. Grimmjow's awareness faltered, caught between a God and a parasite. His soul screamed under the pressure and his legs buckled, bringing him to his knees.
Weak.
The word rang in his head, bodiless and soundless, but he understood and he knew exactly what it was.
Grimmjow had pride, he had it in spades, but this was beyond pain, this was something deeper, something unnatural.
Stop.
Shinigami threw it back at him in disgust, if Grimmjow could attribute feelings to it at all.
Shinigami wanted his body to move. It had no care or reason, it wanted to consume. It was a need so immense even Grimmjow could feel it, and it was using up his soul to do it.
It made him stand, forcing his body past a limit Alteza imposed. It set its sights on another shinigami, paused, and drew Pantera.
Shinigami pulled on his reiatsu and forced him into his Segunda Etapa. The sudden rush of power was a relief, but no sanctuary. Satisfied he wasn't going to break, Shinigami curled his fingers like claws and went after another.
This didn't bring him to his knees, but it hurt in a way he'd never felt outside of Alteza. Shinigami was forcing his soul to its limit, and this was just the start.
Grimmjow had never wished for death before, but he understood Kurosaki now. He fucking understood. It would have been the perfect moment...
-xxx-
Harribel
After a time, Harribel found she didn't need Szayel's guidance. La sangre moved in a distinct pattern, radiating from its source, and it was easy to follow it back to Kurosaki. It may have been intentional in the hopes others stayed back, Kurosaki didn't like being found, but it could also be out of carelessness. If Kurosaki wasn't of sound mind, she could assume it was the latter, but she knew him to be mindful. Regardless of the reason, continuing was a definite risk, but one she needed to take.
The figure she found in the desert wasn't Ichigo.
He stood differently, his presence felt off, and when cold yellow eyes met hers, she knew immediately who it was. Ichigo's inner spirit regarded her with an indifference and bloodlust that shook her to her bones. He could kill her, and he might do it despite Ichigo's protests.
The other moved with startling speed, suddenly before her. That in and of itself wasn't unusual, but this animosity reminded her of before, when his inner spirit had been defending him in his sleep. He wore Ichigo's body as his own, but the behavior was the same.
"What do you want?" He demanded.
"What happened?"
The chill in Ichigo's eyes softened and looked for an instant like the man she knew. "He's gone."
Gone? It struck her that Ichigo was alone. Lately, he was never without his shadow. She couldn't pin the emotion roiling in his power until that moment. Despair.
Her eyes widened. "Grimmjow," she breathed. The spirit looked away, and she realized he was just as affected as Ichigo. "He's..." Dead. She didn't want to finish that thought, worried the very word might illicit violence.
The spirit wavered, eyes narrowing with a flicker of grief before it condensed into rage. "Out of reach," he said. He looked away, distracted by something she wasn't privy to, and when his eyes fell to hers again, there was a softness there she hadn't expected to see. A shadow of a smile quirked his lips, looking shockingly like Ichigo, despite the differences in body language. "King likes you. If you're smart, you'll stay away from him."
Harribel tensed. "Why?"
The spirit didn't answer her, and his lack of cooperation was as annoying as it was concerning."He's sorry. He really wants you to know that." He frowned as if unwilling to repeat his wielders words. "He's sorry he wasn't strong enough."
Harribel took a step forward. "Don't leave me in the dark."
The spirit shot her a warning look and she stopped. He watched her, and she saw the conversation pass behind his eyes. "He's going to do something very stupid. He's going to do a lot of stupid things."
Understanding tightened her chest. "Love."
"If you can call it that."
-xxx-
Urahara Kisuke
Isshin showed up with a very unhappy Fullbringer. He gave him a grim, shallow smile, attention briefly flickering to his daughters. "Girls." They gave him a look of acknowledgement, but said nothing. It was understandable; they'd been through a lot. They were tough girls, but the strain was starting to show. He looked back to Isshin and asked, "How did you convince him to come?"
"I'm here cause I wanna be," Kugo snarled. "And I ain't here for you."
Huh. Kisuke shared a look with Isshin, then disregarded Kugo's answer. He gestured for them to come inside as Karin asked, "Where's my brother?"
"I'm working on it," Kisuke answered. Yoruichi hopped up on his shoulder as he passed, tail flicking anxiously. It was nice to have company that wasn't depressed or panicked, and she filled that role nicely. She was deeply upset over the loss of her student, but she compartmentalized better than anyone he'd ever met.
He brought them to his lab, despite his internal insistence he keep them as far from it as possible. He tossed Kugo a device that looked part ways between a joystick and an inside out microwave. Numbers flashed on the screen when the fullbringer caught it, numbers far different from the numbers that had been there before. "Thank you, Kugo."
The fullbringer turned the mangled mess of wires and metal in his hands. "The fuck?"
"That's all I needed. You see, developing his power so close to Ichigo had a defining transmutative effect on Chad's power. I needed a pure Fullbringer." He hit some keys and took a seat. "Now we can track this creature without you."
"I didn't agree to this!"
"I'm aware."
Isshin came up behind him. "Whatever this thing is, its possessing Grimmjow."
Kisuke froze, fingers poised over the keys. Shit. "It killed him?"
"I don't know. Ichigo ran."
Chad spoke, startling Isshin. "It took Grimmjow?" The man stepped into the room to stand beside Isshin, concern radiating off him in waves. "That's…"
"Not good," Isshin agreed.
Kisuke made a noise of agreement and concern and stood, heading to another monitor. He entered a command prompt, and waited. An image of Szayel flickered to life, the scientist looking visibly annoyed. "You want to know where he is too, I assume?" The arrancar snapped.
"Too?" Kisuke started, "He isn't in living world, or Soul Society-"
"So he must be here," Szayel finished.
Kisuke noted the sweat on his brow, and the tension in his jaw and guessed, "He's upset."
Szayel snorted. "Everyone in Hueco Mundo can feel it. Harribel is on her way to his location as we speak."
Isshin asked, "Is that wise?"
Whatever Ichigo was doing, it was having an effect on all of Hueco Mundo's residents. Darkness snaked along the bottom of the screen and rose from the floor in a wave, passing through Szayel's lower body. The arrancar shuddered and sat back in his chair. He looked visibly winded, but it seemed harmless. Szayel glared at Isshin and snapped, "Likely not."
Yuzu came up to the monitor and Yoruichi jumped into her arms, offering a bit of comfort where she could. Yuzu held her tight, tears in her eyes.
Kugo dropped the tech he'd thrown at him in a heap on the floor, startling everyone present save for Yoruichi and himself. The fullbringer leaned up against the wall and crossed his arms. Kisuke realized it was likely a bit too much to hope he might leave.
Isshin asked, "Can Harribel talk him down?"
Szayel leaned back in his chair, thoughtful, then answered, "No."
"How can you know?" Karin demanded. "What do you know about Ichigo?"
Pink eyes settled on Karin, cold and calculating, and to her credit, Kurosaki didn't back down. "Quite a bit, girl." He leaned forward on the console and said, "Harribel has strong ties with Kurosaki, but the hybrid has been putting more and more distance between them. The only one he listens to anymore is that blue haired buffoon."
The air in the room shifted at the mention of Grimmjow, and while Kisuke trusted his poker face, he did not trust those of young girls. Szayel's eyes widened when they showed their hand, a flicker of fear in his eyes. "What happened to the Espada?"
Kisuke's eyes shifted to Isshin, letting the burden of that knowledge fall to him. He needed to find this threat. It was more important than finding Ichigo. Wherever Grimmjow was, Ichigo would eventually follow. He moved back to the other monitor and kept working, letting Isshin take over, but that didn't mean he stopped listening.
"He's still alive," Isshin said. "I think."
"You think?" Szayel hissed. "Do you know how insane he was before he split off his soul?" Szayel must have thrown something, because he heard the crash through the speakers. "We're fucked."
"That's a little defeatist, don't you think?" Isshin growled.
"Either he finally off's himself and the realms collapse in on themselves without a host, or we get to watch him kill everyone for the fun of it."
"Someone can talk him down."
"Who?" Szayel challenged. "Jaegerjaquez is indisposed."
"Let me talk to him!" Karin shouted.
"Oh, brilliant," Szayel mocked, "Send a child to face a demigod."
The room devolved into shouting like a match had been dropped in a puddle of gasoline.
"I'll go!" Ishida shouted.
The presence of a new voice was enough to stop the bickering, all eyes turning to face its owner. Kisuke was shocked to see Ishida in the doorway, Tessai hovering behind him. Well that explained how he got in.
Chad raised his hand, phone held in his grip, and explained, "I asked him to come."
Karin frowned at Ishida. "I don't even know who you are. Why would Ichigo listen to you?"
"Because I hate him," Ishida said. The boy looked terrible. He didn't seem to be sleeping well and he'd thrown on old and wrinkled clothes to rush over. His eyes held grief no boy his age had any right to carry. Kisuke didn't want to pity him, but he did.
Ishida pushed up his glasses. "All I got was a half-assed text from Chad and I can still see the problem, don't pretend you all don't see it. Kurosaki won't kill the arrancar. You send me because I made the choice that he can't make."
Silence stretched in the room. Szayel was the first to break it. "Ya ain't crazy like he is. You can't reason with crazy."
Kisuke turned back to his computer, clacking away. "It's better to try and fail, than never try at all."
-xxx-
Kurosaki Ichigo
Ichigo hadn't believed in Hell, but to stand in the same meadow he'd kissed Grimmjow in, watching him murder the people he wanted to protect…it was Hell.
Each soul Shinigami devoured left Grimmjow in agony. When he'd clawed at his hollow hole, the pressure he put on his soul was external. What Shinigami did was entirely internal. Harder to see, harder to fix...easier to feel.
Grimmjow had a lot of pride, he was far from weak, but this was different. Having control stripped away so completely by an enemy was revolting, Ichigo knew, it was a terror he thought all living things felt, it felt too rooted in instinct not to be. He could be cruel, but he wouldn't wish that kind of powerlessness on anyone.
The arrancar before him looked like Grimmjow, the burn of his reiatsu was almost the same, but he moved like an imposter. Where before his reiatsu was wild and unsettled, now it was forcibly calm. Ichigo barely recognized him. It was the difference between a stormy sea and a lake; it wasn't the same, and it broke his heart all over again.
Even the way Shinigami made Grimmjow kill was wrong. It was methodical, merciless, and completely without feeling. These shinigami were prey to consume. Nothing more, nothing less.
Grimmjow wouldn't kill someone so weak. He wouldn't kill a cowering weakling; he wouldn't kill kittens. Shinigami didn't give him a choice. It was his claws sinking into flesh, it was his soul bearing the weight of their death, and every shinigami it ate made Grimmjow's soul weaker.
Ichigo felt the rising tide of despair in Grimmjow the longer this dragged on. It took Ichigo a moment staring at his back to understand what he was feeling.
Grimmjow wanted to die.
Ichigo couldn't give it to him.
The very thought of taking his life made his hands shake. He spent every waking moment carefully keeping him alive. To kill him now felt impossible. Was he a coward? selfish, cruel, and weak? He thought he was all of those things and more. The one thing Grimmjow needed from him and he couldn't give it to him.
He had all the power in the world to stop this...and he couldn't bring himself to do it. He shouted, "You want me?! You can have me!" His voice cracked, the strength leaving his voice in a rush of pain. "Just give him back." There was no sense hiding the desperation in his voice, Shinigami knew how much he cared. It wasn't a demand, he was begging.
Shinigami relaxed Grimmjow's grip on its victim and the shinigami crumpled in a heap, a soulless shell. It laughed with his voice, slow and full, and it was all wrong. "Eager?" It looked at him, and Ichigo's heart stuttered in his chest. Those eyes lacked the spark he loved; these eyes were dead. "Soon, Kurosaki."
"It's weak," Zangetsu snarled. "It needs a shield to protect it while it grows. It knows you can shred it like paper."
'I won't...I won't kill him.'
"I know," Zangetsu snarled.
Deep in his thoughts, Ossan spoke. "You were used Ichigo, but this was always it's plan. If not Grimmjow, it would have your father or sisters."
He knew that, but hearing it made it real. He was seconds late, but those vital seconds could have cost him everything, not only Grimmjow. Ichigo had trusted Grimmjow with his family for a long time, although his reasons had changed. At first it was because he knew Grimmjow feared him, and the arrancar wasn't coward enough to kill weaklings. Now it was for him.
He'd done something Ichigo didn't think was possible. Channeling la sangre was possible for a conduit, but to manipulate it? It savaged his body and his soul in a way Ichigo could actually see. His hair was more black than blue, a shade darker than he'd come to expect.
Only four shinigami left, Ichigo wasn't sure where it would go next. It was getting stronger. He couldn't feel it directly, but Grimmjow was soaked in la sangre, Ichigo felt Shinigami strain the dark holding Grimmjow's body intact.
"Saving your family granted Shinigami an opportunity."
'I don't understand,' Ichigo said. Grimmjow consumed his thoughts, his mind was struggling to think, to plan, to move past that singular moment of failure.
Ossan was patient with him, gentle, in a way he rarely ever was. "I know you can sense it Ichigo, la sangre's presence in him has grown. Grimmjow would likely be dead without it."
Ichigo knew Ossan couldn't necessarily feel la sangre, but he'd grown used to sensing gaps and filling in the blanks. Even he could see it. Was it a blessing or a curse, that Grimmjow lived? If it killed him, would it have dragged around his corpse?
Bile rose in his throat at the thought, refusing to believe he was out of reach. Think. But Grimmjow stood less than twenty feet away, wind tugging his long hair across broad shoulders. Familiar, but not. He'd barely got to know him, and he was gone.
Gonegonegonegone
"Stop."
Ichigo tried, sucking in a deep, calculated breath. Pain wouldn't help him...but rage could. It was hard to grip when he could feel Grimmjow breaking. The very fact Shinigami forced him into in his segunda etapa meant the strain was killing his arrancar. Shinigami was going slow to keep his hostage alive, it was necessity, not mercy.
The moment Shinigami killed it's host...kill his arrancar...Ichigo would kill him. He hovered close by, hoping for both a mistake and a miracle. Part of him hoped Shinigami would slip, that Grimmjow would die. That hope made him feel filthy. Relying on an enemy to kill when he couldn't? Pathetic.
The Gods howled at him to do it, a sea of power sinking into his thoughts and guiding his hand. The Gods felt the pestilence in their world and yearned to snuff it out. Self preservation overrode entropy in a need that reminded him of the drive he felt to remove the Hogyoku. It was one of the few things that made the Gods feel alive. Needs were reserved for living things. And the Gods existed, alive in their own convoluted way.
It was a hard thing to fight.
The physical need to kill Grimmjow conflicted with his heart, and it was difficult not to panic. If he stopped thinking about it, he might just kill him by accident.
He grit his teeth in a flash of anger. His fist tightened around Zangetsu's hilt and in a heartbeat, he'd sunk his sword through the chest of a felled shinigami. It did nothing to satisfy the craving in his soul. That parasite was still free, it needed to die. He shuddered, tension coiling in his chest.
"Don't panic, Ichigo."
N'GHA N'GHA N'GHA N'GHA N'GHA N'GHA-
Don't panic...
He made a sound too close to a whimper and hissed, "Shut up."
Ichigo felt Shinigami's attention on him and he looked up, meeting flat blue eyes. It was looking at him, and he hated it so much. It was like Grimmjow was already dead. No-nonono, he was alive and suffering and it was his fault.
That thing spoke using his voice. "Careful, godling."
"Shut up!" It was a demand, but it sounded as desperate as he felt. He couldn't look at him anymore, it tied his breath up in knots. So he turned his back, yanking his sword from the body of a ghost. He asked it, "Why do you have to kill them? You want the Kugeki, Sunyata, la sangre? Take it!"
Shinigami laughed. "And kill my host? It very nearly killed itself." It was suddenly too close, breath gusting over the nape of his neck. "I am a plague to the minds of Gods. I feast on their precious children," it gloated. "Do the Gods howl for my death?"
Ichigo stood still, refusing to turn to face him. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to forget the body Shinigami wore. "Why didn't my predecessors destroy you?"
"Destroy death?" It circled to stand before him and he the need to destroy it bubbled up in his throat in a growl. It leaned too close, and his hand snapped out for his throat, tight, but it could still speak. "Greedy, tiny things," it rasped. "Always seeking to control."
Ichigo glared at it, his heart pounding with the fear he might kill Grimmjow without intending to. He peeled his fingers from his throat, hands shaking and snarled, "I'll destroy you."
It leaned in close, pinning him with shocking blue eyes, Grimmjow's reiatsu teasing his skin, featherlight and wrong. Ichigo's heart skipped in his chest at the accusation it hissed, "Liar."
-xxx-
Rukia
When Kurosaki Ichigo was in pain, everyone in the Gotei 13 knew it. They knew, but didn't speak of it, they weren't sure how. A shared, uncomfortable look was as far as most got. Sometimes Renji raised the question, but he never dug for details. It felt like a deep invasion of privacy, and for all of their faults, they could all acknowledge how invasive it truly was.
Kurosaki was hurting. A sudden shock to the heart, and all of the Gotei 13 was on edge. What could they do about it? Nothing. And so nothing was said. Everyone knew, but rather than risk frightening their subordinates, they remained silent.
The body of the shinigami she'd been sent home with was in a tent behind her. She had his name now, but she didn't know him. That could be her. It was the look Kurosaki had given her, one of contemplative fear. She'd seen a similar look in her brothers eyes before. She wasn't weak, they knew that, but she could understand fear.
She felt it too, in every injury or buried weakness she saw in her brother. He still couldn't fight, not well. He brushed off her concern, as was his way, but he couldn't hide from her. She noticed his jaw clench when he twisted too far or moved too quickly. It was hard to forget he would be dead without Orihime.
It was hard to forget she was gone. An unfortunate casualty in a war she had no sense being part of. A war none of them belonged in.
Now Ichigo was playing a game on a stage none of them could ever hope to reach. Demigod indeed. None of them had any reason to meddle with the Gods, it was out of their hands. That responsibility lay in Ichigo's hands; clawed and scarred. It was so easy to forget he was the same highschool boy she'd met only a few years ago.
His responsibilities were at a level she simply didn't understand. She wasn't even sure Grimmjow understood. Ichigo was full of secrets,until very recently he'd kept everything to himself. She knew he was trying to share that burden with Grimmjow, but Rukia wasn't so certain he could take it.
With the borders between worlds as unstable as they were, hollows were a rare sight in Soul Society. Patrols were often unnecessary, at least among higher ranking officers. The worst they saw these days were street gangs and petty theft with the hollows were locked in Hueco Mundo until further notice.
This made the sudden alarm and flurry of activity much more concerning than it might have been before. Shouts rose above the camp, but the source concerned her the most. That was Grimmjow's reiatsu, she would know it anywhere.
It flared with the intensity reserved for a battle, but it lacked the bloodlust that should have accompanied it. She knew Grimmjow, she wasn't scared so much as baffled. Ichigo wouldn't let him do this, he kept the arrancar in line. So he was alone?
Her confusion persisted as she rushed through lines of tents and scrambling shinigami. Orders were shouted, but chaos still buzzed among them. If she wasn't so set on her destination, she would have joined in organizing the mess, it was damn near pathetic how disorganized they were.
She pushed through a line of seated officers and audibly gasped. Grimmjow was in resurreccion, one she'd never seen before. Sweeping black fur ran along his arms and down his spine, but clutched in mangled fingers was the throat of a shinigami.
He didn't stand with the cocky arrogance she'd come to expect, he was off, and Ichigo wasn't there. She drew her sword and shouted, "Grimmjow!"
He didn't look. He dropped the shinigami and turned to the next without a lick of concern for the shinigami around him. His reiatsu was crushing the lower ranked officers, they couldn't even run. Personally, she was starting to sweat, she hadn't known Grimmjow was this strong.
He lifted a hand for a sweating, cowering unseated shinigami, and Rukia lunged, swinging for the back of his neck.
She froze, stopping her blade short just inches from Ichigo's face. It wasn't merely his sudden appearance that stopped her, it was the look in his eyes. She thought she'd seen pain there before, but she was horribly wrong. This was beyond distress, he wasn't even hiding it.
He reached up, pushing her blade out of his face with the back of his hand. Apology and grief swam in cold, yellow eyes. "I'm sorry."
Dread flushed her veins with acid. "Ichigo?"
The demigod looked away, and her eyes fell to Grimmjow. The arrancar dropped a lifeless shinigami in a sickening heap and stepped around the body with unsettling indifference.
This wasn't the arrancar she knew, this was an enemy. A dangerous enemy. Why wasn't Ichigo doing anything?
She shouted, "Ichigo, what are you doing?! Stop him!"
La sangre rushed in the space between them and she fell back, zanpakuto raised. It felt like such a pointless, foolish action. She had seen Ichigo fight; he was ruthless and savage and skilled, even without the Gods, she couldn't even dream of cutting him. Next to power like that, she was as good as a child waving a stick, and from the stricken look on Ichigo's face, he knew how unfair it was.
She shouted, "Ichigo, answer me!"
Grimmjow caught another shinigami in his claws and la sangre expanded and encompassed the three of them. A million tiny blossoms struck Ichigo's barrier, splashing against black in a harmless wave. Ichigo didn't even turn to look, her brother's bankai was useless against him and he knew it, but it wasn't in her brother not to try. Her brother's icy voice carried, despite how quietly he spoke. "What is the meaning of this? Explain yourself."
Ichigo stayed silent, he wouldn't look at anyone, not even Grimmjow. She realized what she felt from him wasn't just grief, but shame.
She'd thought Ichigo looked stretched thin before, but he wasn't trying to hide anymore. That hunted aggression was back in the tension in his shoulders and the unblinking look he leveled at the people around him. He often tried his hardest to appear less intimidating, but that front was gone. The person that stood before her scared her.
The arrancar was turned away, and when he spoke, her skin crawled, "Choose, godling...the few or the many?" He pointed with a twisted, clawed finger directly at Rukia and her stomach twisted. "This host is very opposed to killing this one. Choose, or she's next."
Rukia grip on her sword tightened and Ichigo finally looked at Grimmjow, his voice thick with emotion. "No."
In a flurry of sonido she could barely track, Grimmjow was suddenly in her face. She swung, and her sword struck the armor across Ichigo's back, his hand clenched tight around claws poised to sever her head. She swallowed her panic, cautiously jumping back to observe and understand.
Her brother's bankai swirled and jabbed at weakness in Ichigo's defenses, but la sangre reacted with a speed and aggressiveness she didn't think Ichigo was in full control of. The few glances he spared her brother seemed to be out of a desire to hold back.
Grimmjow smiled at Ichigo, the expression looking distinctly wrong. The arrancar's legs buckled, knees striking the ground, and panic flared in Ichigo's soul. Slowly, Ichigo pried his fingers from Grimmjow's wrist, and he answered softly, "The few."
It suddenly clicked. She lowered her sword and whispered, "Oh, Ichigo…"
Something had taken Grimmjow's body hostage, something Ichigo couldn't kill, within someone he wouldn't kill. Ichigo might hurt the arrancar, but he was gentle with him in a way that was nothing short of love.
Gin's voice carried from out of sight, and Rukia's attention was drawn when he stepped from a row of tents into the clearing. "You know, kid...ya ain't like Aizen. Yer worse."
Rukia's eyes snapped back to Ichigo. That shame in his soul only deepened when Gin drew his sword. "Don't get me wrong, I like ya, kid, I really do."
Grimmjow was back on his feet, eyes set on her brother. Rukia's stomach bottomed out. She released her sword with a shout, "Dance, Sode no Shirayuki!" She stabbed the ground and her command rang around the camp. "Juhaku!"
The thing controlling Grimmjow didn't even look, the ice that spiked from the ground towards her target was shattered with nothing more than a wave of Ichigo's hand. She screamed in frustration. "No!"
Ichigo turned to look at her in distress.
"I understand," Gin purred. "I'm selfish too." He drew his sword, skipping directly into bankai. He didn't look particularly concerned, but Ichigo did.
Grimmjow was getting closer to her brother and she knew he would never run from a fight. She couldn't lose him, she could barely handle seeing him in pain, and now he stood in the way of monsters.
She swung again, but her ice was shattered into sparkling mist with little more than a look from Ichigo. The hybrid lifted a hand and crushed her brother's bankai in an explosion of darkness and glittering pink shards. It was a beautiful defeat, and it left her brother standing defenseless with his head held high. Tears burned her eyes, but she didn't let them fall."Nii-san!" She couldn't lose him too.
Gin struck at Ichigo with speed she couldn't even track, she only knew he'd attacked when his lengthened zanpakuto was held tight in Ichigo's hand. The hybrid jerked his hand to the side, shattering his bankai, and Gin didn't seem surprised, he even looked expectant. "A monster with a conscience...ain't that somethin' else."
Ichigo shouted, "Shinigami!" Grimmjow stopped just yards from her brother. "You want me to choose." Ichigo's eyes were locked on Gin's, resolved, even among the turmoil in his heart. "I chose."
Gin looked at the hilt in his hand, and she couldn't understand his expression. It was one of the few times she hadn't seen him smiling. He looked back at Ichigo, something unspoken passing between them. Ichigo moved, suddenly before Gin, and she made a helpless sound, something wordless and distressed, and stared in shock.
it took her a moment to fathom Ichigo's sword was through Gin's heart. He'd killed him. Ichigo killed him.
Sword hilt slipping from his grip, it struck the dirt at his feet. Gin coughed up blood and smiled through bloody teeth, a peaceful expression she'd never seen on his face before. Ichigo pulled his sword from his chest with a sound that struck her in the gut.
Realization sank into her bones and stole the air from her lungs. Ichigo was their enemy.
Her sword shivered, the shock trembling in her hands, and she lowered her sword. What could she do? Ichigo wouldn't kill her. But she couldn't stop him either. Useless.
Gin collapsed, but Ichigo caught him with the care he would catch a friend. Gin's words rang in her head; monster with a conscience. She couldn't even hate him, killing Gin was a blow to his own heart, she could feel it. Ichigo said he was sorry, and he'd meant it, she could nearly taste his guilt.
With the buzz of sonido, Grimmjow was there, his hand around Gin's throat. Ichigo reluctantly let Gin go, and stepped back. A shudder passed through Grimmjow's frame, swaying on his feet. He dropped Gin with no care,The arrancar fell to a knee and looked up at Ichigo. "This one was strong. More."
Ichigo's eyes narrowed, sealing off the pain in his heart. Rukia spoke, her voice soft, but Ichigo heard her, and turned to look. "Why are you doing this?"
His brows scrunched in pain, and he looked away, his shoulders falling with a sharp exhale. "I have to."
"Ichigo!"
He flinched, and in a swirl of color, she was left standing alone, surrounded by trees in complete silence. He'd sent her away...he'd sent her away. "Damn you, Ichigo," she hissed.
She sensed no one, no reiatsu, no living souls. Her knees hit the ground and she let out a slow, rattling breath. She closed her eyes, the sound of Ichigo's sword sliding through bone and blood rang in her head. Ichigo was no longer a friend.
-xxx-
Kurosaki Ichigo
The look Rukia gave him. Monster. He couldn't do this with her screaming at him, looking at him in disappointment...he couldn't. So he sent her away. Coward, coward, coward…
Gin's body was still warm when Shinigami ate his soul. His heart ached in his chest, at the very least reminding him he still had a heart, despite the yawning hole in his chest. Killing was one thing, but promising someone nonexistence was another. Gin knew, he knew this was it, and he did it for her.
Zangetsu…
"I'm here, King."
'I can't do this.'
Blood spilled from Grimmjow's lips, snaking in thin lines down his neck. "More."
Ichigo's brows drew together and he stared in horror. More. How many more of his friends had to die for his mistake? How many…
"King, it's your choice."
Ichigo whispered, "I'm not an executioner. I'm not."
"King if you don't choose, it chooses for you."
Kyoraku shouted from somewhere behind him. "Ichigo!" There was rage in his voice Ichigo had never heard before, and had never wanted to hear.
He tore his eyes away from Grimmjow and turned to face him, steeling his heart when he saw the look on his face. This was a deep betrayal, Kyoraku had shown some trust in him, and he threw all that work away. Forced by his own heart into becoming something he despised.
Kyoraku didn't bother drawing his sword as he faced him, they both knew he couldn't hurt him. "Why?"
Ichigo didn't know how to answer. Was it really for love? This felt evil, this was wrong.
But he needed him.
"Why!"
Ichigo heard Shinigami straighten, sensing the damage he'd done to Grimmjow's body by devouring such an old, powerful soul. This was killing Grimmjow faster, but it also meant less of his friends...less shinigami had to die. Ichigo glanced down at Gin's body, his throat tight. A sacrifice to protect someone he loved. Ichigo understood only too well, but he never thought he'd be the executioner.
Worse than Aizen indeed. He lowered their guard, he didn't fake his feelings towards them like Aizen; they were real. And didn't that just make it worse. "I can't let him die," Ichigo said, "I can't."
Byakuya finally spoke, understanding at least that he had no intention of killing his sister. "What gives you the right to decide who lives and who dies?"
A hysterical laugh bubbled out of his chest, and Ichigo answered, "Nothing." He dropped his reiatsu across all of Soul Society, heavy and oppressive. He found the shinigami he wanted with ease. He didn't want to kill, but the Gods did, and it tainted his reiatsu with killing intent.
Finally bending beneath his power, Kyoraku's knees hit the ground and Ichigo's stomach twisted. This wasn't what he wanted, but this was the path he'd chosen, he couldn't shy away from it now.
Pulling on the Kugeki, Ichigo ripped Mayuri from his hiding place. The one person he'd gladly judge and kill, he loathed this shinigami with all his heart. He did more than wrong his kin, he was an evil sonovabitch and Ichigo would gladly watch him die. Why pretend his choices were random?
Mayuri stared, wide eyed in the realization he was going to die. Evil, but not stupid. Ichigo drew Zangetsu and severed his head in the same motion. The shinigami's head didn't roll far, and Ichigo suppressed the urge to crush his skull underfoot. He wasn't sure whose desire that was; his own, or Adaliz. It was all so murky.
Shinigami didn't waste that opportunity, sinking Grimmjow's claws into the body to drain the captain of his soul. Grimmjow's body seized in pain, blood running from his nose, but Shinigami twisted his lips into a smile. "More."
Kyoraku gasped through the weight of his reiatsu, but managed to ask, "What are you feeding?"
Laughter fell from Grimmjow, laughter that sent a chill up Ichigo's spine, and Shinigami answered in Ichigo's stead. "Death, little soul." It accused, "Imposter. You steal my name and wear it proudly. You, with fear and such tiny understanding."
For something that needed to hide in a body to keep Ichigo from killing it, it sure talked big. "I could kill you," Ichigo snarled.
Shinigami struggled to stand, a smile on its face. "With power granted you by Gods that have no understanding of the world that they dream. Human emotions corrupt, and the Gods corrupt in turn."
Ichigo wasn't so sure he understood, or had the mental capacity to try.
"We need each other, Kurosaki Ichigo. You've tasted their madness; it swims in your thoughts and seeps through your bones. It has a rapacious appetite, does it not? Give it to me."
Need. Ichigo bared his teeth, his reiatsu falling heavy around him. "You have no idea what that means!"
Ossan warned, "Careful, Ichigo. Pull your power back."
Ichigo heeded that warning, baring his teeth in disgust. He lifted his reiatsu enough to keep from killing anyone, but they were still pinned like butterflies, completely at his mercy. It disgusted him than any part of himself might like it. He didn't even know if it was his own impulse or someone else's.
He pulled Kenpachi to him, and the first thing the man did was try to skewer him. Ichigo leaned out of the way of the jab for his eye, his hand tightening over the scarred Zanpakuto's blade. He felt his sword's agony, but there was a connection there that hadn't been there before. Good instincts, he didn't want to kill him, but he was strong, and so was the kugeki in his soul.
He gave Kenpachi a look of apology. "Such a waste."
Kenpachi smiled, well aware of the gap in their power. He abandoned his sword to try with his bare hands. The man lunged, wrapped up in his own reiatsu like a shroud. Ichigo moved, a clawed hand on his chest slamming Kenpachi to his back. The ground cratered under the impact, more than one of his ribs snapping under the impact. He couldn't win, but he'd tried. Kenpachi laughed hoarsely, "Can't say I've got regrets." He tried to stand, but Ichigo slammed the weight of his reiatsu down on him. He didn't have time to humor his endurance.
Ichigo tossed Kenpachi's sword aside and drew his own. "I'm sorry I couldn't give you the fight you wanted."
"Ain't got time for weaklings." He heaved a breath. "I can respect that."
Ichigo stabbed his sword through his heart, shame singing in his veins. He wasn't proud of this, but at the very least they could die by the sword, and not at the hands of a monster that had never been human. It was the best he could do, not even Mayuri deserved that sort of death. He was supposed to be their keeper, the Gods forced that job onto his shoulders, he could at least have the fortitude to kill them himself.
Shinigami took that sacrifice and it crushed Grimmjow, he felt it rock his own soul, searing and painful. Grimmjow coughed, blood splattering the ground. It fell from his eyes, streaking his cheeks in red and his whole body trembled.
Ichigo swallowed, panic rising in his chest, and he asked, "Is it enough?"
Voice wet with blood, Shinigami rasped, "More."
"He'll die."
"More."
Chest tight, Ichigo realized he had to choose. An older shinigami might kill Grimmjow...but a young one...Bile rose in his throat, and before he lost his nerve, he dragged Hitsugaya through the Kugeki, startling the shinigami when he suddenly had his hand around his throat. His neck felt small beneath his palm, fragile. So much talent, so much potential.
Hitsugaya reached for his sword, and Ichigo let him draw it. Dark hair curtained around the blade when it struck his neck to no avail.
Ukitake's voice cut through his thoughts, straining from beneath his reiatsu at the edge of his dark boundary, la sangre nipping at his toes. "Take me instead! Damn you!" His plea cut off into a coughing fit, and Ichigo wavered. Ukitake was old, but weak. Could he be substitute enough?
Ichigo dropped Hitsugaya and turned to face Ukitake. Rukia would never forgive him for this. How could she? The lives of her friends and allies for Grimmjow. And her teacher, a man she loved and respected, who was so ready to die for her sake.
Wisely, Hitsugaya staggered back, sword still raised, for what little good it would do for him. Ichigo was torn, when he heard a voice he never expected to hear again. "So you really are a monster...I should have let your own power cripple you!"
"Ishida?"
He stood between a row of tents, his reiatsu pathetically small compared to the Ishida he'd remembered in his past. Hate burned in Ishida's eyes, a look Ichigo had very rarely seen leveled at him, and rarely from someone he once saw as a friend.
"Can't kill him, can you?" Ishida threw his arm out. "Look at him! Would you want to die like this? Can you not even spare mercy for someone you love?"
Tear fell down Ichigo's face, hidden among the warlike streaks painting his cheeks. "Stop," he begged.
"You think it didn't rip my heart out to k-" Ishida swallowed, throat too tight to carry on. "To kill her?" Ichigo had nothing to say to defend himself. Nothing at all. Ishida chanced stepping closer, hands fisted at his sides. "You're letting this happen, this is on you! How many more people have to die, Kurosaki?"
Ichigo stared, eyes wide, and asked softly, "How did you do it?"
"She begged me to, Ichigo." Ishida spat, "Don't tell me he didn't beg you to spare him this."
"I can't," Ichigo whispered. "I can't…"
"Coward!"
Yes, more than a coward, a monster.
Ishida stepped closer and hissed, "No more, Kurosaki. End it."
End it…
Ichigo grit his teeth, looking down at Grimmjow. Shinigami spluttered on blood, demanding, "More."
"I'm so sorry," Ichigo whispered.
He didn't know who he was talking to anymore.
His heart hurt. Grimmjow hurt.
Stepping into sonido, Ichigo stabbed Ukitake, locking eyes with the shinigami that had tried so hard to help him. Kyoraku shouted in panic and pain, and Ichigo stumbled over his words. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…."
Ukitake reached for his cheek. Ichigo flinched, but allowed it, brows furrowed against his hand. The shinigami struggled to get the words out, but Ichigo understood, "I'm sorry we failed you." He jerked his sword from his chest, and was grateful for once for his cowardice. Rukia didn't need to see this. She didn't need the memory of her mentor dying, killed by someone who used to be her friend.
He couldn't look at Kyoraku, he could only listen to him scream. He knew the two were close, he'd taken someone the Soutaichou loved as a price to pay for keeping his own love alive. He was the monster he always feared he was. Aizen was right.
Dragging Ukitake's body back to Shinigami, he laid him down, pulling la sangre in close in defense. "Now leave him."
Sinking Grimmjow's claws into the fresh body at his feet, his arrancar's body shuddered, Shinigami devouring Ukitake's soul. Ichigo's hands shook, watching in horror as Grimmjow vomited blood. He was doused in it, red matting cat-like ears. Ichigo grabbed grimmjow's face with both hands, shouting at Shinigami. "Take me! Leave him!"
Grimmjow's shoulders shook with laughter, but Grimmjow's body couldn't accommodate it. Blood gushed from his lips and he looked up, eyes dull.
Shinigami left Grimmjow's body in a sudden flurry of motion, the thing sweeping into his soul and sinking into his body.
Ichigo screamed. The Gods vehemently disagreed with the sudden encroachment, surging back against this new entity, but this time, Shinigami was stronger.
It dissolved away the Gods presence in his soul, devouring it with the wash of hungry need. The Gods fought, but Shinigami resisted.
It didn't last long at all, Shinigami filling up all the spaces in his soul it had devoured the Gods. Ichigo's chest heaved, blinking up at the sky as the acid in his veins faded. He sat bolt upright. Grimmjow.
His arrancar was struggling to breath around his own blood, a pool of it gathering in the hollow of his throat. Ichigo lunged for his unbroken hand, squeezing it, and turned him on his side so he wouldn't drown. He tried to heal him...nothing happened. "Nonononono-"
Grimmjow coughed blood wet on his lips, his eyes unfocused on the ground, but his arrancar knew he was there. "What did you do...Ichigo?"
Ichigo...he'd never used his name before. "I need you."
Grimmjow's shoulders convulsed with real laughter, but he made no sound. "Been wantin'...to hear that. Don't think...it matters anymore."
Ichigo focused on his heart, his hand pressed flat to his chest. "You can't-" His throat tightened, struggling to heal Grimmjow's shattered body. It wasn't working. Shinigami's power was out of reach, it rejected la sangre, and the kugeki; he tried everything.
Failure, failure, failure, NO.
"I think...I'm done," Grimmjow rasped. Shocking blue eyes were sightless and dull with defeat. He did this, he did this to him.
Lifting him to his chest, Ichigo held him tight, but Grimmjow didn't move, he barely breathed. He felt so small in his arms. Fragile. Only human.
Pressing his cheek to his throat, Ichigo sobbed, and he knew Grimmjow was right.
All of that...for what?
His arrancar's heart struggled, it fluttered in his chest and Ichigo knew. He grit his teeth and hissed, "I love you." Grimmjow was limp in his arms, cold. He could count his heartbeats. Slow. Too slow.
And Grimmjow's heart stopped.
He was still.
Ichigo's breath twisted in his throat, blood pounding in his ears.
Blood dripped from Grimmjow's hair, it was wet on his lips, and he wasn't moving...he wasn't going to move.
He was-
Grimmjow was…
-xxx-
Notes:
I'm very sorry ; A ; THIS ISN'T THE END. IT'S NEVER THE END. I CAN'T END A STORY SAD.
Also, SO MUCH POV CHANGING I'm sorry! It felt appropriate. Blame Morgan for the cliffhanger, he made me do it, he's probably still laughing