Bleach 1. Prologue

Grimmjow / Ichigo

The sequel to my story 'Markings', although it is probably not vital to have read that one. This is not an AU: it is set a few months after the Winter War. For a full explanation of how things have come to this situation, maybe it would be best to read 'Markings'.

**Prologue**

_"If we do not end war - war will end us. Everybody says that, millions of people believe it, and nobody does anything." _- H.G. Wells

The moon was a bloated crescent in the sky, shining with cold indifference on the sleeping tableaux that was Ichigo's hometown. The sky was a thick and heavy black, the stars only visible as the faintest of pinpricks: the moonlight was too much, and drowned them out to the human eye. A feral wind picked up the scattered leaves that turned the dull concrete to a muted cacophony of sodden browns and rotting yellows and lifted them a little: more still were pulled from the quickly undressing trees that line the streets.

Soon only their bare limbs would score the sky, disrobed entirely of their autumn colours.

The threat of frost was in the air. Any person out walking in the stillness of the very early hours of the morning would be able to see their breath, clouding in front of them. The year was pressing on, and with the quickly changing time came colder winds. Already the nights were well embraced in the early evening, daylight a fleeting reminder, a snatch of summer before the twilight embraced it and hid it away. In the depths of these nights the only light available, other than the ghostly shine of moonlight, was the steady and out-of-place glow of streetlights, illuminating circles of pavement in its yellow-orange light, a temporary barrier to the shadows.

A man who had been created to join an elite force bent on ruination and chaos let the cold air brush over him, not seeming to care that much of his torso was bare. His eyes were closed, but every sense was wired and alive, waiting, testing the length and breadth of the city for any sort of disturbance.

A cat prowled along a wall, a slip of black shadow that passed under his indifferent scrutiny without interest.

It would snow soon, when all the leaves finally let go and joined the rest on the ground. Then they would be patterned with the intricate lacework of ice, latticed until finally covered by the first fall of the year, which would briefly turn the town into a frozen world of white, before the morning traffic ruined it all.

The man took a deep breath, and opened his eyes again. He stood on the precarious edge of a building, unnaturally still as he seemed to contemplate the fall to the ground. His hands by his sides were fists, but there was an expression of something close to calm on his face as he stared at the moon.

It was not an expression that people were used to seeing on Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez's face. Normally, it was too tight with emotions that spoke of anger, and blood, and a thousand frustrations that seemed to be collapsing inside of him, one on top of the other: an endless mess of things that no one could fix.

He did not remember how he had first arrived into life, but he knew that he had been born into this form in a time of war and strife, into a place where nothing communicated but power and where nothing mattered but climbing up the ladder of battle and survival. For the longest of times, he had been motivated by nothing more than anger: anger at himself, at those higher than him in a system that he could not change.

But that didn't matter. For the first time in what felt like decades (and what was, to some people, centuries of thought and dreams and bottled up turbulence) there was something close to peace in the struggle between worlds. There was nothing to fight for, anymore, nothing but the final threads of a war playing out like the dying notes of a crashing symphony.

Which left those, like Grimmjow, whose life had been ordered by those notes, in a very uncomfortable position: in what way was he meant to act, now that the obvious had been taken from him?

Such were the questions that ran through the mind of the former-Espada as he stared out across a town that was not his home, and yet, was where he suddenly seemed to belong.

The wind picked up, buffeting him and rolling across the city. Leaves shivered on their branches as it passed, and across the town one damp leaf found itself thrown against a window that a man was staring out of.

Isshin Kurosaki did not jump when the leaf flew against the glass: he was too well trained for such a thing to startle him, regardless of the more frequently seen side of his character and the often amusing clownishness that it took on. His face was pulled into something of a frown, as he watched the night sky. There was rather too much on his mind at the moment for sleep: concern for his eldest child shot through his mind whenever he tried to rest.

Clouds were beginning to slip into sight now, still far away in the sky but threatening to come closer with surprising speed.

Elsewhere in the sprawling mass of inter-connecting worlds, night had also fallen onto the half-lit Seireitei. Though peace was now official, most divisions preferred the tried and tested method of better safe than sorry, and continued to post night shifts just in case a missed Arrancar managed to find its way there, hell bent on some sort of suicidal revenge mission. It wasn't like there was much for them to lose, after all.

Shinigami stood on rooftops, gazing around them. There was still too much tension concerning the war for them to be relaxed yet: most were poised, tense. Most of them would admit that, if they saw anything that might have slipped through from Hueco Mundo, they would not be able to control themselves. The order to capture-without-killing was not a strong enough deterrent for them: not when they had seen the devastation of war against their closest and dearest, not so very long ago.

Wounds in the Soul Society stick deep, and don't always heal well.

It was a cold night here, as well, though the moon was almost non-existent: just a scrap of a crescent against the sky, it gave little light to guide those still awake, and there were far more in the Seireitei than there were in the human world. Some did sleep on though, like a member of the Thirteenth Division: a slip of a girl on silk sheets embroidered with the Kuchiki family crest. It would be one of the few nights left she had to sleep without concern for one of the most important people in her life, although she did not know it yet. A little further away from her, the Lieutenant of the Sixth Division tasted blood on the inside of his mouth and frowned, not understanding why his standard training was not going so well for him tonight.

He shook his head, and sighed, and wished that he wasn't still just a little concerned about the message that he had received from Orihime Inoue the day before.

The message that concerned Ichigo, and the inexplicable power levels that the readings of Karakura were showing.

He knew that even if he were to go to Karakura right now, then there would be nothing that would look out of place: just another chill night, almost boring. Curtains would be drawn and car headlights a flickering brightness through the streets. On occasion he might hear a dog howl or the noise of some foraging animal, if he were to care enough to listen that hard. Even if he were to give in to instinct and hurry there, there would be nothing that he could do to protect anyone: nothing obvious even to fight against.

He wished again: this time, that rational thought was enough to counter inherent concern.

The quietest place that you might find on this night, though, was neither the Soul Society or Karakura: in fact, it was a dead world in between them, a place of monochrome landscaping and crystallised trees. The white sands of Hueco Mundo stretched out across a far-reaching desert, disturbed only by the ruins of a war-torn palace and the occasional boulder.

The moon here was different again, if only because it never seemed to change. Instead, it passed across the sky each night only to reappear again without the break of day in between. In endless night, hollows called to each other in guttural noises not too distinct from animals, speaking wordlessly of hunger and occasionally of concern: nothing tangible, yet there as an undertone all the time, when a hollow ventured too close to the wreckage of Las Noches.

Those forbidding walls were broken: all was still there, although it might not remain so.

There was nothing to remind a visitor of civilization here, nothing to make you believe that people had ever even set foot here but for the fact that there _was_ a person here: a man standing on top of a dune a little way away from the former palace, staring thoughtfully across at it. If you were to see him (and it is not necessarily true that you might, for he perfected the art of being hidden whilst being completely in the open centuries ago) then you would be surprised to notice that he was smiling.

Just a small smile, and not quite out of humour. Barely there, in fact, and half-hidden by the shadow cast from the brim of his hat.

He lifts a cane in the air, and with a sweeping motion opens a rift through, back to his own world. He steps through, without looking back.

The night drew on. The various moons, each with their own sickly glow and their own patterns, moved across skies that were not really so different in their reaches. A few waking eyes continued to stare around them. Some are living and some are dead, but in the darkness of the night it doesn't really matter who you are or what you believe in but only where you are, and whether or not you are safe.

Morning was tingeing the edges of the Soul Society with the greyish light of pre-dawn.

Clouds grew thicker above Karakura, slowly blocking out the moonlight. Ichigo Kurosaki turned in bed with the faintest of grunts, hand reaching out in his sleep to clutch at an empty part of the bed, as if he expected something to be there. When his hand found nothing, a frown etched its way across his forehead, marring the smoothness of sleep with something that looked a little like worry.

In the confines of his half-lit office, so far away from Ichigo physically even though his mind was placed firmly with him, Captain Ukitake also frowned, although he was awake and had been so for far too long. He stared at the statistics in front of him as he had been doing for hours now, running a hand through hair already too-tangled from a day- and night- of work. The latest batch of readings from Karakura had arrived on his desk that morning, and he still had not thought of a way to explain away the spiking energy levels that indicated something that was clearly out of the norm.

There was only so long that this could be kept hidden.

There was only so long that the world could stay this quiet.


	2. One

This update has been a long time coming as I have been crying over the latest chapters of Bleach. Oh, Kubo- why would you do this to me? Now I have to make the official announcement that my story is becoming more and more AU, but I won't tell you why, for spoiler effect.

All I have to say, is this stupid lost badge arc better be worth it.

**Chapter One**

"_Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle_." - Plato

Yuzu watched her brother sleep on the table with a smile.

It was unusual of him to fall asleep during the day, though what was even more strange was that he wasn't closeted up in his room with homework or one or another of his visitors that he was so convinced that no one knew about. Bless his heart, but did he not realise that sound travelled, and a lot of the time his friends were not very quiet? On many an occasion she had woken up to the sound of deep male voices echoing through the corridor, and she knew for a fact that she wasn't the only one: once, on one of those earlier times, she had stuck her head outside the door only to find her father leaning on the banister, smiling to himself as a voice that was almost familiar- the same way that you can recall a voice of a family friend that you only remember from your earliest childhood- laughed, and Ichigo loudly muttered something about hats, and clogs.

She still didn't get that.

Her father had his eyes shut: she didn't think that he noticed her, though it was hard to tell with him. She wasn't sure how much Ichigo or Karin knew, but she could tell that there was a very serious side to their father, one that he did not let out often enough.

Yuzu knew that some people might have considered her to be very observant, even if she came across as naive, but she didn't think that either of those were the case. It was just that there was an underlying aspect of character that both her siblings- and, in part, her father- all shared, and that was a deep introversion. Not a selfishness, and it wasn't so much a negative quality as it was completely ambivalent. They had secrets, those three, but it was _obvious_ that they did.

Yuzu's secrets? Well, they were for her, and no one ever suspected.

Like Ichigo, for instance. He would never have even guessed that she knew about Grimmjow- and he would have been blown away to learn that she had actually _met _him. And it was sweet, how they all assumed that just because she couldn't see spiritual things the same way that they could, it didn't meant that she hadn't heard them talking about it, or couldn't _feel_ them.

She couldn't help but stroke an errant strand of his hair back from his forehead as she moved past his chair again, smiling.

Yuzu moved cautiously around him, making sure that she was as quiet as she could be as she prepared dinner and made the beginnings of everyone's lunch for the next day. Some might say she was doing everything a little early: it was only half three, after all, and as it was a Sunday she had nothing to do but it always was too complicated to leave. Karin didn't eat onions, and disliked carrots; Isshin was not partial to tomatoes in any form, and he wouldn't ever eat fish, and Ichigo wouldn't touch anything with chilli in it. As such, she regularly had to make several things at once, rather than just being able to make one lunch that she could divide up between four.

She couldn't say that she minded too much- frankly, if she wasn't always busy, she thought that she wouldn't know what to do with herself. She kept expecting to wake up one day and resent that she had become a mother before she had even become a teenager, but the bitterness still hadn't come. She liked to be needed- she knew she was never going to be as intelligent as Ichigo, or as good as sports as Karin: she'd never be as brave as either of them, or as confident, and there was no way she'd ever be as great as her father, either.

So this little that she could do made her feel like she had a part in it, like she was something that belonged.

The oven beeped, and she shot it a frown, as if that would be enough to silence it. The cake was ready, and she moved to take the tins from the oven, making sure that she closed the oven door with as little noise as she could.

Ichigo really could be daft sometimes, she couldn't help but conclude as he made a noise in the back of his throat as he continued to sleep. But idiot or not, Ichigo was remarkably happy at the moment. It was quite astounding to see, but sometimes he even woke up with a smile on his face, and delivered their father a less-than-serious blow as they bickered before breakfast.

She didn't think that he had noticed the way that he acted- the way that he stared into space sometimes, the way that he was always just a little bit more positive about things. Oh, his scowl was in place as it ever had been, and he wasn't at the doodling-hearts-and-flowers stage, but there was a remarkable change in him, something that made her glad.

Yuzu had been worried about him for quite a long time now, after all: normal teenage boys don't walk around looking like they have the fate of the entire world on his head. And though she knew that there was a lot about the time Ichigo spent away (honestly, did he really think that substitute would kid anyone but Karin, and only then because she never really paid attention anyway?) that she didn't know about- and never would learn about, no doubt, but she had a feeling that there was some serious stuff going on there.

There had been a while when she had been concerned that it was going to keep haunting him: that those dark shadows in his eyes were never going to go.

And now, he seemed to be forgetting about it.

It was cute, really, to see what love was doing to her big brother.

* * *

Grimmjow had never pretended to be a patient man. He had always known that there would be an element of the awkward when he had to meet Ichigo's friends- and even thought he really, _really_ did not want to do it, it was one of those inevitable things that he just couldn't get out of, no matter how hard he tried.

Not that Grimmjow was starting to go soft, and was doing things that he didn't want to do for the sake of other people.

Hell no.

It was just because, well… well, he had to, you know-

Ah, fuck it.

He rested his head in his hands and gave up trying to rationalise his own pansy-ness. He wasn't going to lie- this whole thing sounded like too much of a effort, and he still didn't quite understand what it was that was keeping him here, sat awkwardly on Ichigo's bed, waiting. At least it would only be that tall one though- the quiet guy, who wasn't all that spiritually strong but was pretty intimidating looking, unless you were like Grimmjow and was never intimidated by anything, of course. Ichigo said his name was Chad, but Grimmjow couldn't say that he cared too much about it- all he knew was that the guy was huge, and that he had a lot of respect of Ichigo.

But what was really winding Grimmjow up, was that he didn't understand why Chad had not told anyone about him.

The first time he had met the man, he hadn't even noticed him. Grimmjow had just turned around, and there he had been, standing there quietly and watching Grimmjow kill a hollow as if he were watching some sort of film, or something. There was no judgement there- and no blunt reaction. It had been discomforting and a little disturbing, because all he had done was nod a greeting, and turn around to walk off, as if he had just wanted Grimmjow to know that he was there, and he was watching.

But Chad, he had come to understand from what Ichigo had said of him, did not have any loyalty to the Soul Society. His side was next to Ichigo- no matter where that lead him.

Perhaps this should have comforted him a little- after all, the friend of my friend is my friend, and all that bullshit, but it wasn't the way that Grimmjow was used to thinking, was used to feeling, and he was still uncomfortable.

"You alright?"

He rolled his eyes at Ichigo from where he sat on the bed. Below them, the front door closed. They could hear the faint sounds of Yuzu's pleasant chatter to Chad, and as she offered him a drink and gestured him up the stairs Grimmjow was a little ashamed to admit that there was a small but tight knot of anxiety in his chest.

The door opened. Chad stepped through.

And Grimmjow did not know what he was waiting for- a dramatic noise, a yell, the drawing of weapons? But no, there was nothing: Chad just made a low noise that might have been a greeting, and took a seat on the floor, stretching his legs out across the room. Grimmjow's eyes flickered to Ichigo: to his surprise, he looked pretty damn nervous.

Before he could say anything, Chad turned to look at him. The dark curls of his hair fell back from his face and his eyes stared through, deep and thoughtful and very sincere. Grimmjow found himself pinned, unable to look away from that gaze. He wondered if he should feel uncomfortable with that stare, but there was no anger in those eyes, no judgement: just as Ichigo had said, just as he had seen before and yet just what he had not believed, Chad did not seem to have a problem.

"Grimmjow."

The former-Espada found himself almost jumping in surprise at his voice: it was deep and thick and heavy, and it killed the retort in the back of his mind almost instantly with its substance and complete calm. He became suddenly aware that Ichigo was standing, walking towards the door: a moment later he had gone, leaving the two of them together in the room.

It should have been tense. It _was_ tense. But not in the way that he had expected.

"Ichigo is very important to me."

Grimmjow stared levelly at him: after the moment of surprise, he found himself unwilling to bow to the respect that he did not want to have for this guy.

"You are to him."

Chad looked away then, to a point just above Grimmjow's shoulder, out the window. There was the hint of a smile on his broad jaw, and it was clear that he was thinking of something quite important to him. There was so much that was left unsaid by that statement, but it was impossible to ignore the sentiment and those unspoken words.

_If you ever raise your zanpakuto to him again, then I will kill you. You have left the place where you belong, to forge a life here, and that means that it is to here where your allegiance now lies. Your loyalty is to Ichigo Kurosaki, and that is where mine is. And because of that, my allegiance is also to you, and so I will protect you, to protect him. But do not think that I forget who you are, and what you are capable of. Remember, if you mess this up, then you will regret this for the rest of his life. Grimmjow, though you made his life ridiculously complicated, you make him happier than I have ever seen him, and so I will never do anything to try and remove you from him._

___Grimmjow, if you hurt him, then I will kill you. _

Chad closed his eyes, and looked away.

"I hope that we have an understanding."

Grimmjow found himself nodding, as Chad stood up. Without a word he left, disappearing through the door and out of the house without a backwards word or glance. He nodded to Yuzu as he passed, and shut the door behind him with a quiet click.

Out on the street, he shoved his hands in his pockets. The evening had grown chill, but he still stared up at the sky as he walked along with something close to a smile.

He always liked it when he finished a job.

* * *

When Ichigo opened his bedroom door to find Renji and Rukia sprawled out in his room, his initial thought was total and utter panic.

Not because he didn't want to see them, and wished he could back away: if Grimmjow were to appear right now, as he normally did, there was nothing he could do to stop it getting out. Even if Renji and Rukia promised to keep it quiet, they still had an obligation to the Gotei13, and things would not remain in the dark.

But then reality kicked in, and he remembered that Grimmjow wasn't an idiot (most of the time) and that he would think to check who was around before hopping through the window.

So Ichigo hoped, anyway.

"Wow, talk about an unenthusiastic welcome."

"Man, it's almost as if you didn't want to see us."

He rolled his eyes at them, although not in an unfriendly way. It struck him then that he had missed these two, idiots though they may be- he had just been too caught up in everything else to remember. The Soul Society had taken on an uncomfortable role in his head- he had fought alongside them in the war, but now they had become something of a threat to him, if only in his head: the thought of discovery made him feel a little nauseous with concern, the same sort of feeling he only got when he thought his little sisters might be in danger, or when he realised he was in a fight way out of his abilities, before the adrenaline and self-belief kicked in and knocked him back into shape.

He'd sort of forgotten that no matter what ended up happening, he would always think of Renji and Rukia as something more, something distinct, from the rest of the Gotei13.

He gave himself a mental shake, and shot his two visitors something close to a smile. Perhaps on a more expressive person that might not have seemed enough, but on Ichigo it looked just about right. They smiled back. After all, they had missed him, as well.

"Ah, shut up, the two of you. The hell are you doing here?"

Renji, flopped out on the bed, stuck a finger up in his general direction, clearly making a joking protest. Rukia, head on a pillow snaffled from his bed, stretched out across the floor with a distinctly unladylike grunt, and smiled back at him.

"We missed you, Ichigo. And besides, we were due a couple of favours. We want to see the others, as well, before we leave, but we've only got twenty four hours. Do you think that will be enough?"

Ichigo shrugged and nodded. It probably would be, if the others didn't mind being woken up. Well, lets be honest- when Rukia was on a mission of any sort, it didn't make a difference what other people wanted at all, as long as she was pleased. Renji certainly looked along for the ride- as he always was, when anything concerning Rukia was going on.

"So, how have you been, Ichigo?"

What a question indeed. How had he been? It had been complicated, these last few months, more complicated than he would care to admit. The strange relationship between himself and Grimmjow had shot up out of nowhere, like one of those weeks that looks like hassle to begin with but to which you soon become used to. Although, he thought wryly, perhaps a weed wasn't the most flattering of comparisons that he could have made, even if it was the one that jumped to mind first of all.

But, in general? Things were reverting to something close to what he could call normal. He still went to high school, still had homework, still fought with his father and was pissed off by Keigo and still argued with Ishida. Inoue's cooking was still terrible, and Yuzu's was still great.

The only difference between his old world and this new was shinigami duty, and even then, part of him enjoyed that.

Well, he enjoyed it when it wasn't too much stress, anyway.

"Everything's good. How about you guys?"

More and more hollows were leaking through, at the moment. More than there ever had been, in fact, and Ichigo could tell by the too-flippant tone of Rukia's voice that they were here for something more than a holiday. He just hoped that it was the unusual level of activity that they were here to look into, rather than anything else. The thought that they might have noticed something amiss, something in the direction of himself, was terrifying.

Because now, there wasn't only Grimmjow to worry about.

There was Karin, as well.

* * *

"Grimmjow, you're not thinking."

He rolled his internal eyes at the voice echoing out from the inside of his mind, wondering what the hell his zanpakuto was talking about now. Recently, it was like all she did was moan and insult him. Mind you, she always did that- now, it just seemed a lot worse. God damn, was he becoming sensitive?

No, no. Of course that wasn't it.

"All you ever do is bitch, woman. What am I not thinking about _this_ time?"

He sat on the windowsill of an empty house a few streets away from the Kurosaki's home, carefully suppressing his spiritual pressure as much as possible. He was sure that he had felt those two shinigami vanish a couple of hours ago, but he wasn't taking any chances when discovery was such a critical issue. The night was cold, and his breath misted in front of him, but he didn't shiver: in fact, he could barely feel it. His attention was too focused elsewhere to be concerned about the winter weather.

"Everything."

"Fucking useful, that."

He realised that he had muttered aloud, not that it really mattered all that much- there was no one about on the street below, and even if there had been, it wasn't like they would have heard him either way, him being so high up. Even so, he had to fight down a little embarrassment. What had happened to self control?

He rolled his eyes. He was Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. That was what happened.

"Grimmjow."

"Alright woman, alright. Go on then, enlighten me. I can tell you can't wait to do so anyway, so you might as well get on with it."

Pantera padded back and forth in his mind, sounding mighty smug, he had to admit, although he still didn't understand quite how the bitch managed to make the sound of her paws on rock sound smug. A serious skill, right there, he was forced to concede. She may be a part of his soul, but the bitch sure knew how to press his buttons in just the right way to make him want to hurt her. If you ever could really hurt the manifestation of a sword that lived in your soul.

"Your attention is too focused on the wrong world. You're forgetting what we saw in Hueco Mundo."

He rubbed his hand over the jut of bone on his jaw, pressing a finger against the teeth.

"I ain't forgetting anything. I remember what is there. I just don't see why it has anything to do with me."

Pantera began to wash her paw, something that he knew she only did when she was being disapproving, and didn't want to show it. Unfortunately, it sent the message across just fine regardless. Grimmjow scowled at her.

"You know me better to know that I've forgotten anything."

She shook her great, domed head at him, and sighed. There were some things that there was no point arguing about, and even if Grimmjow was convinced that he was not putting their strange discoveries in Hueco Mundo the back of his mind, Pantera was sure that he was. And, though she wanted nothing more than to let it lie so that Grimmjow could carry on the way he was, she knew that she could not. The hard roads always had to be taken, one way or another.

They had decisions that they needed to make.

* * *

When Grimmjow finally dared enter Ichigo's room, he was surprised to see that he was still awake. In all honesty, he hadn't expected it, which might have begged the question as to why he had found his way there in the first place. However, he never bothered with that sort of self-questioning. He would have woken Ichigo up even if he had been asleep.

Ichigo was sat on his bed, half-reclining but wincing as he dabbed at a deep graze that ran down his stomach, his shirt hitched up. Normally, the sight of Ichigo's bare skin might have turned him on a little, but not now. Instead, he frowned, and stepped down from the windowsill.

"Idiot. What did you do there?"

"Hey, be quiet. Karin is still up, and your voice carries. Not to mention your reiatsu."

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow, and threw himself down on the bed next to him. He rested his head on Ichigo's shoulder, closing his eyes and making a growling noise under his breath.

"Ichigo. I'm here several times a week, and at stupid o'clock most of the time, and not once have any of your siblings noticed that I'm in here with you. And that idiot of a father of yours clearly has no idea, either, so quit your bitching."

The tone was light-hearted, but the teasing mood was broken when Ichigo groaned in pain as Grimmjow emphasised that point with a sharp jab in his ribs. The former-Espada frowned at him, because though he didn't exactly pull his blows even when he was only messing around, there was no way that he had hurt enough to warrant that sort of reaction. Unless, of course, Ichigo was hiding something- and knowing his perchant for not mentioning things as a matter of pride, that wasn't an unlikely explanation.

Grimmjow growled again, half under his breath, and tugged at Ichigo's shirt until he gave in. With an annoyed noise and a disgruntled expression, he let Grimmjow raise it up, revealing the spreading range of newly formed bruises that had turned his side into an ugly mass of colour. Fresh purples reached the length of his ribcage, a clear impact bruise that might even have broken a couple of ribs. The darkest parts of it were almost black, the edges sore and red.

"The hell happened to you?"

It was then that Grimmjow realised a more pressing question: unless there was something that Ichigo wasn't telling him, it was pretty safe to assume that Ichigo had got the injury fighting a hollow of some sort, or perhaps sparring- what was the issue was that he was no longer in his spirit form, and yet it had lasted the transition into his living body. He scowled even more when he realised this. There were enough impossible questions in his world without this new development to consider.

Ichigo turned his head to the side, clearly annoyed himself.

"Damn hollow caught me by surprise yesterday, didn't it? Didn't notice its fucking tail. Shaped like a mace, with spikes and everything- it caught me in the side, and knocked me flying, which was a bit of a bitch."

Grimmjow stared at it for a moment longer.

"Must have been moving pretty damn quickly."

Ichigo nodded, glancing at him with a look of curiosity. He wasn't prepared to ask- after all, with Grimmjow, it was generally just better to let him come out with whatever was bugging him, rather than trying to force it out of him, something that he had learnt was a waste of time. Grimmjow, though, seemed to be hesitating over something.

"Did it… did it have a hollow mask?"

Ichigo blinked- that was definitely not what he had expected. Not only was it delivered in an odd tone of voice, it was also an extremely strange question. His forehead creased up in confusion as he lowered his shirt again.

"Of course it did. It was a freaking hollow. Why?"

Grimmjow just shook his head, as if he himself didn't know why he had asked the question. Ichigo waited a moment, but when it became clear that nothing further would be elicited from the former-Espada, he lay down on the bed, trying his hardest to find an even faintly comfortable position that didn't make his ribs feel as if they were about to explode out of him. It was the sort of awkward injury that he never felt he could go to a hospital with- too many questions. His father was out of the question just for irritation issues, which only left Urahara or Inoue- and he'd find one of them as soon as possible in the morning.

The problem was, they were too overstretched. What with the increase in the influx of hollows and the growing demands that put on himself, Ishida and Chad, he barely had time to breathe, let alone time to recover properly. Urahara had warned him about this: when he fought too often, with too much force, sooner or later injuries would start leaking through to his physical body. As if he were reading his mind, trying to come up with a solution, Grimmjow asked the question that Ishida had posed to him not a week before.

"Why the hell don't you let that sister of yours help you out? I mean, damn, it must be a bit demeaning, having to ask a little girl, but still-"

"You know why."

Grimmjow shook his head. He honestly didn't understand Ichigo's reluctance to let Karin join in these minor battles and skirmishes. Of course, though her growing strength was incredibly noticeable, it didn't mean that she had manifested any sort of power- and now he thought about it, he didn't even know the likelihood of that happening. From the sound of it, Ichigo was something of a fluke.

Still, it was a thought. There was only so much he could do without giving himself away, and the locals were clearly swamped.

He tutted to himself. There he was again, acting sensible. It really was quite depressingly out of character for him not to charging into each and every battle without any consideration. For the first time though, he actually had a reason to be... well, a reason to be careful, as much as it pissed him off to admit that was a truth. In the meantime, though, he was growing incredibly bored, almost enough to want to make a mistake and do something big enough to bring down the whole of the Gotei on his back. The old Grimmjow wouldn't have thought twice about doing it, but now...

Ichigo, seemingly oblivious to Grimmjow's inner thoughts, just rested his head against the pillow, on top of Grimmjow's outstretched arm, which fitted almost perfectly into the curve of his neck. Grimmjow was always a furnace, he had noticed: skin always hot enough to make him feel drowsy.

He had never really thought about it, but wasn't it strange that a spiritual being, something that was essentially no more tangible than a ghost to most people, could be so… warm?

Ichigo sighed a little as he felt the ache of sleep catch up with him.

Grimmjow stared at the back of his head, and had anyone been there to see him, they would have been amazed: as soon as he was sure that Ichigo had fallen asleep, he reached out, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. He pulled back as if he had been burnt, perhaps suddenly aware of what he was doing, and closed his eyes, trying to ignore how uncomfortable he was, pressed between the wall and the solid mass of Ichigo's body, one arm out at an awkward angle, the other crushed underneath him.

"Oi, Ichigo?"

But the other was already asleep, leaving Grimmjow in a particularly uncomfortable position for the night.

Perhaps he should have made more of an effort to get out, or just woken Ichigo up... but then, there were a lot of things that it would be sensible to do that he did not. Instead, he prepared to be sore in the morning, and tried to force himself to sleep.

_Keep quiet, nothing comes as easy as you  
__Can I lay in your bed all day?  
__I'll be your best kept secret and your biggest mistake,  
__The hand behind this pen relives a failure every day  
_Fall Out Boy


	3. Two

I have to offer a huge apology for the brief and unplanned break I took from writing, in order to focus more fully on some important things I had to get sorted. However, hopefully soon I'll be right back on track with my more regular updates. In the meantime, I pray that you bear with me, and don't loose faith- I'm not going anywhere any time soon.

I would like to offer a particular thanks to Cynoyonrae, for her fantastic reviews that inspired me to start writing this again. I feel so lucky to have people like you who read and review my work. Thanks as well to the growing number of people who have favourited and alerted this story. Hope this chapter lives up to expectations.

**Chapter Two**

"_Patience: A minor form of despair disguised as a virtue." -Ambrose Bierce_

Ichigo gritted his teeth.

It hurt a little bit to do it as hard as he was doing, but it was worth it for the brief distraction of the agony he was going through.

He honestly thought that there might be something out there in the world plotting to kill him.

Well, you know, obviously there used to be people like that, he was well aware of that, but these days life was pretty quiet, and he had meant it in a metaphorical sense anyway. He thought, anyway. Frustrated at his own mind's wanderings, his head hit the desk before he sat up again, and pointed at the paper in front of him.

Come on, Ichigo, come on!

This really was the most exquisite form of mental torture that he had ever had to endure. And that included the physical torture he had been forced to endure in every form of battle he had ever been in.

"Grimmjow, each letter is written fucking phonetically here!"

The former-Espada appeared to be glaring at everything- the person sitting next to him who was forcing him to learn such useless shit was only getting a good percentage of the anger radiating off him. The paper in front of him was getting a good wash of it, as well as Ichigo's desk, and pen, and… well, just about everything, really. This was a waste of time, and he didn't understand why the fuck he had to be here. He swore, he came over here for a bed to crash on next to a body that was his to do with as he would- he hadn't anticipated this sort of activity.

"Yeah, well, they don't always fucking sound right, do they!"

Ichigo didn't really know why he had thought that trying to teach Grimmjow to read would be a good idea. He didn't know why he had believed it to be important, what consequence he thought that being able to read a book would have on their lives.

He also didn't understand how the fuck he hadn't realised just how hard this would be. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and tried to pretend that this wasn't as frustrating as, of course, it was. Once more, he pointed to a word that he had written down before, each character spaced apart for Grimmjow's ease. With a growl that indicated that he was not impressed that this task was still going on, Grimmjow's eyes flickered from the paper that had each character with it's pronunciation to the word and back, and tried to make sense out of it.

Well, that first bit was a tuh sound, right?

"Ichigo, what the hell is the point in this?"

"You need to know how the fuck to read!"

"Why?"

Ichigo gritted his teeth. He wasn't getting into this argument again today, not in the least because he didn't really have a good explanation as to why Grimmjow would ever be in the situation where it was necessary for him to read. He was living in the human world where this was normally a vital part of life, this is true, but he wasn't living in the same way as everyone else: he was a spirit here, something above and beyond the banalities of the modern world. It was only blasted pride that made him refuse to call it quits and let them both go to bed, both infinitely happier once the horror of reading had passed them by, and they would without a doubt be able to get along a hell of a lot better.

Instead though, here they both were, two o'clock in the freaking morning, sat up glaring furiously at a pieces of freaking paper rather than being half naked and entangled in a sweaty pile on the bed. Or on the floor, if they couldn't get there in time.

Ichigo was close to shouting or screaming aloud when he felt a well-known pressure against his thigh as Grimmjow used the distracting technique that he had discovered worked so well against Ichigo. His hand was warm, broad: it lay on his knee and ran up his leg, slidingin between and further and further up and then slowly, slowly dragging its way back down as Ichigo's eyes flickered closed.

"If you think I'm going to give up on this just because you're doing _that_, you've got another thing comi-"

Ichigo was cut off as his mouth fell open, at split second after Grimmjow took the lobe of his ear in his mouth, biting down on it softly and sucking at it, running his tongue around it and smirking as he heard Ichigo's breath hitch.

"Grimmjow…"

The former-Espada paid no attention to him, only continued to run the soft flesh between his teeth. He was sick to death of this whole thing now, but it looked as if he would be able to distract Ichigo in a quite satisfactory way…

With a groan of frustration and acceptance, Ichigo turned his head, pulling his ear out of Grimmjow's mouth so he could press his own against it, grabbing hold of his head and pulling him to his feet just so he could press the length of his body against the coiled muscle and bare skin of Grimmjow's own. He pulled back for only a moment as they blindly moved towards the bed, and his voice was thick with sudden lust.

"Just thank fuck I'm not making you learn how to write. There's no way in hell we'd ever manage to pull off that one."

Grimmjow opened one eye, and scowled.

* * *

Elsewhere, across Karakura, a hole in the air ripped open.

It happened slowly, and if you didn't know better you might think it was done with care and consideration: instead, it was dragged out simply because it took a great deal of effort to tear through the layers of dimensional atmosphere when Karakura was so thick with power and resistant pressure. Claws came through first, long and deceptively sharp, and began to pull away, making it larger so that the great bulk of the creature could crawl through.

Power crackled through the air like static.

Such a sight should have caused panic and uproar, screaming in the street and the flocking of the world wide news teams, but this was not the sort of tear that many people could see. In fact, the vast majority of the people of Karakura would not notice it at all even if they were close by: these were the sort of holes that people would walk right by and (on a level of dimensional complexity that still blows Ichigo's mind when he tried to think about it) inadvertently through the air that contained it. Only those with a little spiritual power would feel a slight shiver as they made their way by, only a couple would rub their arms to get rid of the prickle that came with a shudder when they passed. Maybe the people that they were with would look at them, questioningly, and ask them what was wrong.

It is these sorts of situations that have coined the phrase 'something just walked over my grave'. Because even though, of course, the people who say this are not dead and buried, the things that slip through are not living, either.

But there was no one around to feel so displaced by this tear, no one to notice a strange feeling as they passed. The morning was too young, the night still too dark a presence for many to be out on the frost-patterned streets.

Something that might have been a head pushed through the rip, tasting the air on the end of a black, forked tongue. It was in the right place, it knew- the first time its focus had slipped, and it had ended up in another world entirely. It could have crawled through then and there, would have been under less threat of discovery and would have been easily sated with what it would have come across. After all, there had been spiritual pressure enough there to feel hundreds, but it needed here. There were things here that it had to do, people that it had to make sure were paying attention to what was going on. It needed this world.

It needed Karakura.

Its body came through after that, tearing the hole wider as it pushed against the confines of it, until it had come all the way through.

Something touched the concrete pavement of the Karakura business district that had never felt the glass-and-steel world of the living humans before today: it felt for the pulse of the world, so much more alive than the white sanded plains that it had come from: when its feet were half buried in the sand there it could only feel the faintest of movements from the world, like a deep buried vein, just the slightest and coolest of pulses.

Here the very life of the world was tangible on the air, a thrumming that filled the creature with adrenaline, made it feel more wild than anything else ever had. There was possibility always in the air here, unavoidable and inescapable. A creature could be whatever it wanted to be in this world. You escaped the indescribable confines of the limitless desert, moved to a wider and better horizon.

The thing that had once been a hollow looked around itself, and flexed claws into the damp, cold earth.

Why did none of the other hollows ever notice this wonder?

It tilted its head back to the cool late autumn air, and howled its cold and eerie war cry against the night.

* * *

Ichigo Kurosaki had always believed in the simple things in life. His family, for one, were the most important things to him. That sort of went without saying, he thought. Protecting them, being there for them when he was needed. Everything else would sort of fall by the wayside, against that. He tried relatively hard in school, because he knew that was what he was meant to do. He'd kept an eye on the ghosts that looked as if they were in trouble, and when things had got a little more complicated when he developed his powers he had still only done what was necessary to protect those closest to him, those who he had a duty towards.

The most complicated aspect of his life was the man whose body his hands rested on right now.

And that, really was the hardest thing to explain.

There was no rhyme or reason to what they had begun, and nothing to explain why they felt the way they did about each other. It defied every rule of sensibility that he had ever looked at. All he knew was that they were opposites, with startling similarities that made them too close for comfort. Sometimes, he could see himself in the way that Grimmjow's eyes scowled in determination, the way his body reacted to threat. They were parallel people born on different sides of the worlds with too many differences to count, but either way it did not matter because there was something that made sense about the way that their bodies moved together in the covering darkness. There was somethnig right about it, and that made it important to him. Probably more important than was safe.

But something was wrong.

Grimmjow had always been solid. Even as a transient spirit, he was so undeniably _there._ A shock of blue hair, hard lines of muscle that strained underneath his skin when he flexed, tan skin so surprisingly soft that Ichigo often found that he couldn't take his hands off it. Always permanently present in one way or another, always there. Even when Ichigo was only thinking about him he felt more real than so many parts of his life.

But for the faintest reminder of the scars that hadn't quite vanished when his body had morphed to the Adjuchas-class hollow and back again, he could have been carved from marble when he lay like this, so still in his rare moments of sleep.

The arch of his back was long and firm and quite beautiful, blending in against the sheets in the nearly dark room. But for the tell-tale rise and fall of his chest Ichigo thought that he might have been nothing more than shadows wrapped up in his bed linen, but he was still resolutely present: the sound of his breath, the warmth of his body. And for that perfectly rounded hole in his chest- well, Ichigo wondered sometimes how someone so hollow inside could command so much of their own reality.

He was strong. He was real.

And Ichigo needed that.

But on occasion, recently, there had been a part of him that was not quite always with him, a part of him that stared into some space that he could not quite see, to where he could not follow, almost as if he had one foot in this world, one foot in another. Which, he suppose, he did. It made him worry, sometimes, about whether or not Grimmjow still contemplated living in his own world again. He could see it in that abstracted darkness in his eyes, an absence.

Ichigo knew that Grimmjow had chosen him over the Hueco Mundo. That didn't mean that he could not miss it, or regret it. That didn't mean that he might still not be thinking about it.

And though he longed to follow, or to drag him back, he just didn't know how.

Ichigo felt the strange softness of the Espada's wide and faint piece of scar tissue on his chest and hard ridges of muscle under rough skin. His fingertips skimmed the edges of the hole in Grimmjow's abdomen, and the hard bone of his mask, and the tiny patch of smooth skin behind his ear. He tasted like something forbidden, and definitely something different.

Ichigo was sure that he felt more for him than he ever had for anyone else before. The thought of Grimmjow always managed to send shivers up his spine: the thought of nails, digging into his skin, leaving red and raised lines down his back, across his chest, on sweat-slicked thighs made his eyes fall closed and his breathing hitch. The feeling of hot, damp breath against the most intimate parts of his body came to him when Grimmjow wasn't around sometimes, when he can almost feel it against the inside of his legs and on his neck, can almost hear the noises ripping through the air- guttural, hoarse. It is moments like that when he knows.

Knows what? Something big, something deep, something important- that he doesn't have words for yet.

He rubs his hands over his chin in the morning and he notices bite marks on his throat and shoulders, knows that there are ones just as vivid on his stomach and the softest part of his inner thigh, right near the top. It scares him, that feeling he gets when he looks at them.

But one thing he knows for certain is that wherever Grimmjow goes in the moments that he is away, whatever secrets he still has buried deep away, Ichigo can be okay with it. It will always be alright, as long as his eyes continue to flash in that certain way when they catch sight of him, when he slips in through the window. When Grimmjow looks at him like that, he can forgive any distance.

Ichigo closed his eyes, and drifted into a light sleep.

* * *

The creature stalked through Karakura.

It had begun to master the art of disguising its spiritual pressure, but it had not quite got there fully yet. Its shadow crept across the pavements, stretching in abstract shapes as it passed street lights, though no one in the lone passing cars noticed the dark shadow as if passed over their windscreens. In various places across the silent houses of suburbia several people shifted in their sleep as it stalked past, digging its claws into the concrete as he passed.

Those who slept lightly even woke, sat up, stared into the darkened rooms and fisted their hands into the covers, wondering just what _that_ had been that had woken them. Of course, there were very few that really understood what the shiver running up their spine was all about.

Many people had nightmares that night, but very few remembered the next morning quite what they were about.

The creature stalked on, mindless of the distress that it was leaving in its wake. After all, it was hardly the most destructive thing that it had ever done in its life.

One person, awake anyway, shook his head at the feeling, almost as if he was not surprised by the strange and disturbing presence that had found its way into this quiet corner of the human world.

Kisuke Urahara tilted his hat down, shading his eyes and the frown that he had caught on his face more often than he cared for recently.

He considered going to see what this creature looked like but resisted the urge to discover: after all, would it look much different from every other hollow that managed to find its way here, but for the mask?

He doubted it, and he had seen enough broken masks for the novelty to have worn off.

_

* * *

_

Grimmjow.

He grunted to himself in introverted response. The battle had yet to be won.

There was still so much further to go.

Come on now, Grimmjow.

Focus.

It wasn't as if the former-Espada had never _had_ to do such a thing before now: it wasn't as if he had never been engaged in a battle, even if there had not been many as trying at this. This was more than just one fight in a line of many. This was more than just a run of the mill clash of will, nerve and skill.

His forehead was cleaved in a deep frown, his attention fixed in front of him, lines appearing around his eyes where normally there would be nothing but smooth skin. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he could swear he could taste copper-bitterness in his mouth, as if in his consternation he had bitten himself too hard on the inside of his lip and drawn blood. His chest was tight: in his concentration, his breathing had become shallow, short. His fist clenched around his weapon- and for once, it was not the well-handled hilt of Pantera, his most trusted of possessions.

No, he was holding a pen, but the drama was still there.

Sort of.

Behind him, Ichigo lay on the bed, dozing and making small murmurings underneath his breath as he rested in half-sleep, not quite awake enough to notice what Grimmjow was doing. Grimmjow always liked watching him when he was like that, not that he would ever admit to such a thing.

Because, you know, no one as tough and strong as Grimmjow ever did anything even remotely sappy.

His glance across at Ichigo made him want to give in on the task, and just go flop back down on the bed, but Ichigo's earlier slight, though unintentional, had got to him. Grimmjow knew that he had to do this: not because he particularly cared one way or another if he could write anything, but because it was now a point of pride. He couldn't do it. That was not something that he could ever accept. Sure, he couldn't read either, but the thing with that was it was something that was Ichigo's idea, so there he felt like he shouldn't do it because he was trying to making him do something that he didn't want to do.

As they were all starting to learn, and as Ichigo was also starting to notice, pride was a hell of a lot more complicated than it would appear.

So now here he was, paper in front of him where Ichigo had written both their names earlier when he was trying to get Grimmjow to read. Oh, he still couldn't tell what they said, but he remembered Ichigo telling him. Now he was determined to be able to copy it.

Grimmjow screwed his eyes up for a moment, trying to stop himself just cero'ing the whole damn desk to get rid of the problem, pressed it to the paper with indecisive caution: there were several torn sheets already balled up and in the bin, mementos of his inability to act with any sort of gentleness. However, before he had a chance to tear up any more of Ichigo's notebook, a shiver went up his spine.

Something was here.

You quickly came to learn the feeling of spiritual creatures. Shinigami tasted different on the air than hollows, vizards different again, but this… this was something else entirely. Something new, but something that he recognised. He had hoped that he wouldn't have had to feel that subtle difference for a long time. No doubt the shinigami wouldn't notice the difference, the humans with powers would overlook it: only he noticed its slight change, and only because it was far too close to what he was.

He stood, pushing the chair back as he went. The pen hit the table as he moved to the window faster than the human eye could catch, staring out even though he knew that there was nothing that he would be able to see over the rooftops of the nearby houses. Still his eyes swept across the skyline, just in case…

Had he been a less well trained individual, he would have jumped at Ichigo's sudden presence at his shoulder, already in his spiritual form. With nothing more than a grin he pushed the window open and was out, hand already on the hilt of his zanpakuto.

Ichigo paused outside, balancing mid-air when he realised that Grimmjow wasn't next to him.

"You coming?"

There was nothing else to do but nod, and hurry after him, and hope that Ichigo didn't notice.

* * *

"Hey, Grimmjow?"

"What?"

"Have you ever been on holiday?"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes impatiently, although Ichigo couldn't see the expression as he had his face buried in a pillow. He tried hard not to get too compulsively angry with Ichigo, but _really_? Of _course_ he'd never been on fucking holiday. What, he thought Aizen just organised day trips to the freaking beach for them all on a day off? That Nnoitra Jiruga donned a pair of swimming trunks and played beach ball with Zommari-fucking-Leroux? That the fucking Cuatro pulled on his Hawaiian beach shorts and took his camera sight-seeing?

Ichigo could be a fucking idiot sometimes, he really could. It was as if he just forgot how different Grimmjow was, how distinct from the normal world his own life had been.

"Kurosaki, that's a stupid question!"

Retaliation came in the form of a fist, directly into his shoulder. He scowled, before realising what Ichigo was objecting to. It still slipped through some times- old habits die hard, after all.

"_Ichigo,_ that's a fucking stupid question."

He kept his voice relatively low though, because they were outside, and though the creature that had stalked through the streets of Karakura had been dispatched with some ease against the strenght of Ichigo and Grimmjow combined, that still didn't mean that some of Ichigo's friends might not turn up, just to check everything was alright. He knew that they knew about him, but that didn't mean that he was ready- even slightly- to meet them. And after all, if the shinigami were faintly more intelligent than he thought, then they might have sensed something different, and could have sent someone out to investigate.

He wasn't used to this hide-and-seek buisness, but it had become necessary.

It didn't appear that Ichigo had noticed anything in particular about the hollow, which was always good. When he started questioning things, it always got messy.

The hollow had been pretty average looking, nothing to set it out from a thousand others than it's higher than average spiritual pressure, but then there were always stronger and weaker hollows, after all. In fact, only an astute observer would have been able to tell anything different about the mask. The size of its head was vast, and so the mask running across its face looked complete enough just in it's width and length.

But it wasn't.

"Would you ever want to go on holiday?"

"What?"

Ichigo slung his zanpakuto across his back, trying to hide his blush. Grimmjow raised an eyebrow at him as he became more and more flustered.

"Whatever, never mind."

"Go on holiday? Are you freaking serious?"

"Ah, shut up, it was only an idea."

Grimmjow looked at him, and thought about it. A holiday. Meaning they would go away somewhere, just the two of them for however long? Where Ichigo wouldn't have to go to school all day, and he wouldn't have to keep hiding and jumping in and out of windows whenever someone or another _might_ come into his room? Somewhere with a double bed, perhaps, so they didn't have to end up sleeping on top of each other (not that he was really complaining). Somewhere away from Karakura and the potent threat of discovery, somewhere he could take his time and _really_ make Ichigo scream?

Mmmm. Maybe a holiday wasn't such a bad idea after all...

In a rare act of unaffected affection, he slung an arm around Ichigo's shoulder and squeezed him.

On a nearby rooftop, expertly hidden from both veiw and spiritual sensory skill, Ishida watched the two below him with a raised eyebrow, wondering how on earth no one else had noticed the way that Grimmjow's power, these days, was always looking for something.

* * *

Grimmjow steepled his fingers, and though he was unused to such deep and contemplative thought he felt like he had to slip into it, if just this once. Pantera was always waiting there for him, sat on her hind legs and smiling that ambiguous, careful smile that she had perfected over the years. He hated that smile. It always reminded him that he was doing something stupid. They stared at each other for a moment, but it was he who looked away first.

"Yeah, yeah. I know Pantera, I got it."

"You're beginning to remember then, Grimmjow?"

"I never fucking forgot, you daft bitch. I've been telling you this for days."

"Just because you didn't forget who they are does not mean that you did not forget what you must do, love. But they're here now, Grimm. You have to stop delaying the inevitable. You're going to have to make a choice soon, Grimmjow. You need to decide which world will need you the most."

"It's nothing to do with me, you know that. Why the hell do I have to fix it? They're nothing to do with me, and if they come through then I'll kill 'em, because it stops the shinigami bastards thinking they need to send more people here to watch the town. That's the fucking end of it, Pantera. I fight them because I'm bored and because it makes sense, so don't try force me into doing something more than that."

"Grimmjow, it is your responsibility!"

"I don't have any loyalty to either world. It's not my job to sort this the fuck out!"

"Then whose is it?"

There was silence in his mind, as Grimmjow thought this through. He knew that she had a point.

That didn't make it any easier to think about.


	4. Three

*sheepish wave... Hi there, everyone. It's been a while, hasn't it? I'm sorry about that, I've had a bad case of two-months-in-hospital-itus, due to a charming kidney of mine that thought it would be a lot of fun to stop working. But never mind! Because I'm back, and I'm here, and as it turns out, you've not heard the last of NorthernTrash-x just yet.

I would like to thank Cerulean-Guava and Malone for their particularly inspiring reviews, that made me smile a lot, and yet again I'd like to thank Cynoyonrae, whose reviews are very good at making me want to write more of this fic... not that it made this chapter come out any quicker. Sorry all your lovely readers, life just remains much more hectic than I would like it.

M S N G R- worry not, out of canon character death pisses me off rather royally, so no chance of that. :)

To everyone who still has the inclination to read this chapter after I have been away for so long, I am eternally grateful.

And so, on with the show!

**Chapter Three**

_Salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted._ - Martin Luther King Jr.

The cool, white sands of Hueco Mundo seem limitless. Maybe they are. When you stand in the slight dip of a dune and stare around you it looks as if they reach out until the end of time, further than any thing living or dead could ever hope to go, further than anything could hope to understand. A human mind might scoff at the idea: what in the vastness of knowledge is like that? How can a race that takes delight in meticulously charting the sky ever understand the beauty of the eternal unknown, how can a people that consider it a necessity to know their planet from the core to the end of the air ever believe in things that it are impossible to understand?

And, for all anyone knows, the sands could go on forever. What is there to say that this isn't the case?

No one has proven it otherwise: after all, in Hueco Mundo nobody thinks about the end of it all. What they know is that hazed, monochrome horizon, and it is nothing to do with the routine of eat-bleed-live-fight that their minds revolve around.

Imagine yourself there.

Step between the worlds, slip through the doors of reality and the soul and see what you can find. It is more and less than you could ever understand, unless you were to see it with your own eyes, feel it with your own body, taste it with the tip of your own tongue.

The air is always cold, at that point just before bitterness where it is a chill crisp that prickles the hairs on the back of your neck and would make you shiver a little when you stop, when you still to match the lifeless place. The cool air of graveyards and foggy mornings only as dry as a worn out husk. There is something about the air there that feels dead. Had anything living been there, their breath would have ghosted in front of them, but this is a place only for spirits, and there is nothing physical left about them.

The sands are grains of white sugar, only without the sweetness. They taste of dry, desert earth: not the salty taste of shore sand and not the more wholesome, earthy taste of dunes.

Bow your head. Breathe deep.

The sky is black. As limitlessly black as you can imagine, stretching out further and further than you could ever contemplate without seeing it in person, as if some ingenious person had thrown a blanket across the world in order to drown out the sounds that come from underneath it. Some people say they want to go to a place where the stars are a million pin pricks of light in the sky, a thousand spots of bright hope.

That is not this place.

There are no stars here, only the great, bloated moon that shines its cruel light down on the blasted souls that scrape out an existence in the black-and-white world. Can you imagine it? The taste, the cold, the air. The sounds, you ask?

Nothing but the sound of your feet, and the sand shifting underneath them. There is never a breeze here, no wind to blow against your ears. The loudest sound will be the beating of your own heart. You can hear nothing in the desert. That does not mean there is nothing that can hear you.

Because as much as it seems otherwise, there is life in the desert yet.

Not any sort of life as we would consider it: no children laugh and play, no people walk and talk through these lands. Animals do not live here, either, and no living plants could ever survive in the bleak land.

What there is in this world are hollows, of various shapes and sizes. Small, lizard like creatures burrow down in the sands, feeding off whatever they can come across. They are small, pathetic, but they live on as they can. There are much greater things in the sand as well: huge, worm-like hollows that make an intricate maze of tunnels under the surface. Feel that faintest of vibrations underneath your feet? There is one underneath you, right now. Be very, very still, or else it will notice you, and these creatures are always hungry.

Larger hollows stalk the landscape, and they are always looking and finding places where the world is thin to drag their angular and misshapen bodies through to eat.

Always they search, and always they hunger.

Often they end up fighting each other, bloody scraps staining the sand with black blood as claws rip and teeth tear, as heads crash against each other and the serrated edges of masks slice skin from bone. What are they fighting about? Such questions are not relevant. Blood is blood, after all, and sometimes all you can do is to fight, because there is nothing else to do.

This is how life is here.

Trees rear up through the sand, crystallised creations. They cast elongated shadows across the sand, and they have a strange and incomprehensible beauty that it is impossible to explain away. But the creatures that live here do not look for beauty. They are not searching for any aesthetic meaning.

Their purpose comes from themselves.

In one hidden away dune, not too far from the ruined palace that once housed the created army of a would-be God, two hollows regard each other with a solemn gravity that looks remarkably out of place on their grey and chiselled faces. Their skin looks too thin, bones jutting through it in an emaciated expression of desperation. Then, with a formality that looks almost arranged, one kneels before the other, bowing its back but keeping its head upwards, tilted so that his dark, deep eyes stare up at the sky.

A low, mournful cry issues from its open mouth as the other hollow takes a hold of its mask between its two great hands, and pulls it sharply off with a grunt of effort, breaking it into pieces as it comes off. It tears half the skin off the hollows approximation of a face, leaving his bare flesh an oddly bright shade of red against the landscape.

The mutilated hollow falls against the sand clutching his head with its great, awkward hands. It cries aloud again, only this time it is more of a scream.

The other hollow holds the fragments of the mask to the sky, and closes its fist around them. Underneath the cool, indifferent light of the gibbous moon its own scars are left bared, stark on its uncovered face.

Just as the leader had done with its own, once, it crushes the shards of mask in its fist and lets the white powder fall against the sand.

It howls its triumph to the empty desert.

_In the desert  
__I saw a creature, naked, bestial,  
__Who, squatting upon the ground,  
__Held his heart in his hands,  
__And ate of it.  
__I said, "Is it good, friend?"  
__"It is bitter – bitter", he answered,  
__"But I like it  
__Because it is bitter,  
__And because it is my heart."  
_Stephen Crane

* * *

"Whose fucking idea was this again?"

"Yours!"

Grimmjow glared at the fake sky above Urahara flicked his fan back to cover his smile as he whim, although for the life of him he couldn't tell that it wasn't real. Ichigo said that when you looked at it closely the differences were obvious, but he guessed that he just still hadn't learnt enough about the sky here in the human world to be able to tell. Ichigo said that it was down to shades of blue and grey, but he didn't know anything about that sort'a bullshit.

He still didn't quite understand what he was doing here.

When the man had approached them a few days ago, he had been thrown. Not in the least because he had managed to sneak up on both him and Ichigo at once without either of them having the faintest inkling that he had been close by, but because he had just tipped his hat at them and asked them how their day was going.

"It wasn't my idea, you bastard. It was all that freak over there."

Ah, yes. That freak, the man with the cane and the expression of utter glee. Mister Hat and-Clogs, the prick with the superiority complex and the know-it-all attitude of a person who probably actually_ did_ know it all, frustratingly. The mysterious Kisuke Urahara, who seemed to know far more about everything than he reasonably should have been expected to. Grimmjow was really, really sick of him cropping up wherever and whenever he pleased.

Aizen had thought that he was dangerous. He had probably been right.

That didn't stop him from being _very_ annoying.

"Come on now, Ichigo! We all know you can do better than that! And what about you, Grimm? Didn't you used to be quite a strong fighter? What were you, number nine in the Espada?"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. The taunts had ceased to offend him about three days prior to this one, though the bastard still managed to wind him up something terrible.

"You're an asshole, you know that?" he called back, without much true anger, "And you can see my fucking six tattoo from there! And stop freaking calling me that!"

atched the two of them sparring against each other in the dustbowl of his underground training area. He hadn't in all honesty thought it would have been so easy to convince the two of them to begin to train with him, even if his motives were based mainly on careful observation and – for once – a set of completely altruistic hopes for them.

What neither of them had noticed was the changes in their own power. Over the months since the end of the war Ichigo had not improved his strength at all: and though it was true that his greatest powers always appeared when he was under pressure, Urahara thought it would be rather a shame if, the next time he was in a fight, Ichigo lost only because he was unfit, and out of breath.

But his real interest was in Grimmjow.

Ichigo had told him a little – under pressure and not entirely because he wanted to – about Grimmjow's transformations, and it had been interesting Urahara for some time. Not because the thought of such hollow-level changes were that interesting in themselves (after all, he had charted such things many times over the centuries in the name of scientific exploration and interest) but because he, like Grimmjow, still didn't exactly understand what the former Espada was. He had been an arrancar, but reverting under the strain of physical pain and near-death had triggered the rapid re-growth of his mask and had turned him back into a hollow of an Adjuchas level. This was fair enough- an odd anomaly but a perfectly reasonable evolutionary trick to cheat death.

No, the truly fascinating part was that, though Grimmjow's most recent transformation should have made him into a Vasto Lorde, his physical appearance- including fragmented mask- had reappeared, and his zanpakuto was still manifested. He had asked them to train with him, claiming it was because they were both out of practise, and that Grimmjow needed to explore the limits of his new body and what powers he could still achieve in this state.

The real reason, behind it all, was Urahara's own concerns: what the hell was Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, and how dangerous was he?

* * *

Grimmjow swung Pantera with particular inaccuracy at the closet foe, a warped looking illusion cast by one of Tessai's rarer forms of kido. Unfortunately, Ichigo was standing a little too close for comfort, and had to duck out of the way as the blade sliced past his ear, neatly trimming a few of his wayward hairs at the same time. It forced him to his knees and he glared up at the former-Espada from his new, lower position.

"Oi, watch out where you're swinging that thing, you prick!"

Grimmjow was grinning though, and clearly in no mood to take him seriously. He buffeted him around the back of his head with the flat of his palm, and nodded in the direction of an illusion raising a blade to slice at Ichigo's arm.

"Quit your bitching, Ichigo, and mind where you're standing if you don't wanna have to move outta the way!"

Ichigo blocked the attack with ease and found himself grinning to himself as it evaporated into smoke after a well-placed hit with Zangetsu.

"I wouldn't have to if you had any bloody control!"

"What a joke, coming from you!"

They both turned to face the third voice instinctively, though there was nothing there to see. Moving too quick for either of them to catch, she landed between them, a strong kick to the back of his knees bringing Grimmjow to the floor and a quick, hard grab twisting Ichigo's arm up around his back until he winced in pain.

"Oh, fuck, not you again."

Yoruichi grinned. Really, these two were just too cute!

Urahara laughed to himself at the antics of the three of them. The last few days had done much to ease his concern for Grimmjow's powers. Even though he retained a strength far beyond that of a typical Vasto Lorde, it still wasn't enough to really concern him: nothing unusual, or particularly dangerous. In fact, it wasn't much different to the strength he had control of when he had been at the height of his powers, and though he knew Grimmjow would not thank him for saying it, he had only been sixth, and it would be quite easy to defeat him if anything ever got out of control. Watching him now, he didn't think he had too much to be concerned about. Grimmjow had a skill that he had only seen in the high-class Espada, this is true, but it wasn't anything particularly special.

And yet, still. There was something that he could not quite put his finger on, something that felt just a little bit… wrong.

What was it? What was it about Grimmjow's reiatsu that felt so very different?

Grimmjow fell back against the rocks of Urahara's underground training grounds, utterly spent. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this exhausted just from training: in fact, the only time he could ever remember feeling like this was after some of the most intense battles that he had ever fought in. He lifted a hand to his forehead, wiping the sweat that threatened to fall into his eyes with a wince of pain as every muscle down the side of his body screamed in pain at the movement.

His hand moved to his ribcage, and he gritted his teeth at the pain. He couldn't tell how many ribs had been broken by that last attack from the bitch, but the bruises were already beginning to show through.

Annoyingly, the two people standing in front of him didn't seem to be all that worse for wear. Yoruichi was leaning against Urahara's shoulder nonchalantly, grinning insolently. There was a shine of sweat on her body as well, but it looked healthy, as if she had just been for a jog, or for a session at a gym. She certainly didn't look as if they had been sparring for the last fourteen hours straight, which they had been.

His lip was split. He licked his tongue across the copper-warm flesh, and tasted the blood.

"You're going down, bitch."

Urahara laughed, even though there was a sizable gash down one arm and a couple of bruises on his shoulder. He too was soaked in sweat, but Grimmjow knew that though he had at least managed to land a few on the bastard, it had been more luck and perseverance than any level of skill on his part.

That damn woman remained too quick to catch though, no matter how hard he tried.

He regarded the two of them with a an unimpressed eye as they sat down in front of him. She lay down on the dusty floor, stretching out with a contented purr as she did so, like the cat that she spent most of her being. Grimmjow could almost imagine her tail flicking from side to side with a smug expression on her cat-eyes, pink tongue flickering across pointed, white teeth.

Urahara placed his cane on the floor besides him, crossing his legs and looking levelly across at him. Grimmjow wasn't sure whether he was more offended that they didn't seem to take his threat seriously or relived that they were not making him stand up and continue fighting. Right now, all he wanted to do was sit still, so nothing hurt.

With a noise that was almost erotic, Yoruichi rolled over onto her stomach, propping her head up on her hands and grinning at him in that unerring way that she had.

"So, Grimmjow. You and Ichigo?"

He looked back at her, face blank and, he hoped, revealing nothing.

"So, are you two romantic together? I always thought that Ichigo would be the romantic sort, y'know? Flowers and candles type of a guy. Is he as sappy as he looks, or doesn't he do romance?"

Grimmjow, to his credit, was managing to retain a reasonably realistic expression of mild confusion and unimpressed disbelief. If it wasn't the fact that it was Yoruichi and Urahara in front of him, it might have been believable.

"The hell is this romance crap?"

She made a noise of mock-horror.

"Oh, Kisuke! He doesn't know what romance is! How can poor Ichigo live without the romance that he has always expected? We need to educate Grimm in how to be the perfect boyfriend, don't we?"

"I'm not his boyfriend. And my name isn't Grimm, bitch."

Despite the warning threat to his tone (in fairness, she wasn't really listening to it), Kisuke still joined in the conversation.

"Well, first you need to start saying sweet things to him, things that will make him fall in love with you! You could tell him that he is your best friend, your shoulder to lean on, the one person that you know you can always count on, every day, for the rest of your life."

"Fuck off!"

"Oh, tell him that he is the love of your life, your one and only, your everything! Say, 'I'll love you till death, and then some', and then-"

"No, Yoruichi- death loses its impressiveness when you aren't either and you can jump between the worlds of the living and the dead."

"Ah, this is very true. What else could Grimmy tell him?"

"Don't call me that! And like hell I'm ever going to say anything like that bullshit. You people are fucking _weird_."

Perhaps Grimmjow should have learnt to expect it by now, but the two of him completely ignored him, staring at each other with the childish glee that he had seen them slip into a couple of times when they got excited about stupid shit that he didn't really get the significance of.

"Tell him that you could conquer the entire world-"

"All of the worlds!"

"Yeah, that you could conquer all the worlds with just one hand as long as Ichigo was holding your other one."

"You can fuck off! I don't hold his hand, and like hell I need his help in beating anything!"

"Even though you couldn't beat him?"

"Go to hell!"

"What other good lines are there, Yoruichi?"

"You once asked me how a guy like you ended up with a princess like me."

"This is true. I was trying to get you in the sack, though. And I don't think that Ichigo would appreciate being called a princess…"

"Even though he is one. And when are you not trying to get me in the sack?"

"Guilty. Oh, Grimm! When you go back to his place act really tired and say something like, 'well it was touch and go there for a while with the snow and the wolves but I made it!' and then give him a huge bear hug."

"What would that achieve, Kisuke?"

"Ichigo would think it was cute! He'd squeeze you right back and kiss you all over!"

Grimmjow blanched. The thought of a lovely-dovey Ichigo (complete with frilly apron and hearts in his eyes in Grimmjow's inner mind theatre of horrific mental imagery) was enough to make him want to scream. The Ichigo he knew would not be impressed.

Not that he was contemplating it, or anything.

* * *

Ichigo bit his lip.

A week.

Seven days of being by himself should have been a breeze, and in a way it was- he finally managed to catch up on all of the school work that he had been behind on, got to spend some time with his friends and family, and had a few nights where he actually managed to sleep through. For the first time in close to a year he actually understood what was going on in his maths class, and he didn't have bags under his eyes. His friends, he could tell, were worrying away about the situation and he expected a confrontation soon, but in the meantime they were happy just to relax at lunch time, have fun between lessons. He was rested, and he felt good, except for one thing.

It had been a whole freaking week since Grimmjow had gone to stay at Urahara's, and Ichigo was not ashamed to admit that he was really, really frustrated.

Not because he missed Grimmjow's company, although he guessed that he did. Even though it had only been a short length of time apart he was used to Grimmjow being around all of the time, and it was sort of odd not having him there: he found that he missed his presence, his annoying questions, the way that he growled quietly when he was comfortable and warm. But no, he was frustrated for more reasons than that, although he blushed even now to think about it: as much as it annoyed him, his perpetual embarrassment still got the better of him. But it couldn't be helped, not at all.

Because, truthfully, he was just really, _really _horny.

He was far too used to being able to take that frustration out (or to have Grimmjow wanting to take said frustrations out on him, not that Ichigo ever particularly minded). To not have that release- excuse the pun- was starting to be a little bit more than he could take.

So, when Grimmjow slid through the window, he was rather surprised to find that Ichigo attached himself firmly and without argument to his lips. It almost knocked him over, as he sort of flew across the room to reach him quickly, but Grimmjow kept his balance as Ichigo proceeded in kissing him over and over again: not the usual open-mouthed kisses either, but hard, forceful ones that spoke a little more of desperation and a little less of just a plain old 'hey baby, I missed you'. Not just confined to mouth, Ichigo began to kiss all over Grimmjow's face with enthusiasm, making the former-Espada roll his eyes- it was far too obvious that Ichigo was a sap underneath his bravado and pseudo-masculinity, he thought, not that Ichigo would thank him for that sort of comment.

Not that Grimmjow was complaining, or anything.

Gradually their kisses grew longer as Ichigo, dragging his lips over warm skin, was distracted by the curve of Grimmjow's lip, and slid the tip of his tongue across it until the former-Espada grew far too impatient by this slow and almost gentle pace and was forced- by a clear and obvious necessity, he felt- to grab his face to press their mouths together, forcing Ichigo's open so that he could delve inside.

Teeth ran along pressing tongues and sucked on lower lips, a forceless aggression. Clothes pulled off, scattered on the floor without regard, just scraps of useless fabric that served only to get in the way of smooth skin, poured over tight muscle like silk.

The heat made them gasp, pressing thier bodies together, and Ichigo need no prompt to grab hold of Grimmjow's hips and grind it against his own, quick and hard, moaning in the back of his throat as he did so.

Their kisses grew quickly deeper, tongues sliding together as Grimmjow fisted his hands in Ichigo's few remaining clothes, groaning a little himself as Ichigo ran fingernails down his bare back, intentionally deep, leaving faint red lines behind them. They would turn white soon enough, and would have faded entirely in a couple of hours, but to Grimmjow they felt like the impossibly pleasurable stroke of an improbable whip, leaving fine, scarring lines behind. Ichigo forced the length of his tongue in Grimmjow's mouth, pressing it against his tongue, his teeth, anywhere that he could until he was out of breath, almost choking on the red hot desire that had taken a hold of them both. Grimmjow moved to Ichigo's neck, biting down so hard on the thick tendons that he threw his head back in pain. The black-purple of a bruise blossomed underneath his teeth, darker at the places where his canines- pointedly sharp- dug in.

Ichigo bit down on his ear lobe in retaliation, sucking it into his mouth and running his tongue along the coral lines of the whorl of his ear. It made Grimmjow shudder, and he pushed Ichigo to try and get him against a wall, the desk, the bed, anything so that he could have enough leverage to press the whole of his body against and into Ichigo, as if the heat of their skin melted it so they fused together.

Silence was unspoken and mandatory: groans were lost into kisses, moans choked down in an effort of secrecy that remained the unquestioned necessity between the two of them.

Hands moved over each others shoulders, backs, chests: skimming over thighs and digging into each others hair, electric orange, vibrant blue. Grimmjow traced the lines of Ichigo's hips with his thumbs, rubbing hard to cause a gasp of pleasure but moving back upwards just when he was closest to the hard, heated flesh that twitched against the toned contours of Ichigo's body in the expectation of that most wonderful pleasure.

Hands slid down sides, hairs stood on end as they shivered in lust. They rubbed against each other as heated kisses kept breaking at the distracting influence of pleasure.

Bodies, slick with sweat, pushed each other down to the floor, rolling over each other in an effort to gain command.

The bed creaked as they pulled themselves into it, unmade sheets pooling around them as Grimmjow thrust himself into the tight heat of Ichigo's body.

They shook with pleasure, with happiness.

Outside, it was still as it could be, just the occasional passing car and the flickering of the street lamps enough to break the dark-stillness of the night. Small, feral-suburban animals hissed and spat at each other, children turned over in their beds and frowned at dreams both good and ill as the hours slipped past, time running it's careful hands over the sleeping town, brushing away the relics of the day time.

Across the city, in various households, people slept. The people most invested in the future of Ichigo Kurosaki, for this one limited night, did not stir.

The night was as it should be.


	5. Four

Apologies for any mistakes! I'm adding this on god-awful university internet that keeps cutting out on me, and I cant get it proof read without my internet crashing today. So, forgive me. Also, thank you to every lovely person who reviewed the last chapter and other updates and gave me their best wishes about my illness. :)

Several people commented that Ichigo is starting to appear a bit naive. The poor boy has a lot on his mind, and he isn't the best at reading those closest to him, I think- plus, he worries a lot. This chapter is a bit hard on him, but he'll struggle though, as per.

Enjoy!

**Chapter Four**

_It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend_. - William Blake

"What is this, an intervention?"

The group stood around the seat where Ichigo was eating his lunch, all with a look of determination on their faces. They were all frowning, and just the fact that they were all present- well, all being three of them, but it was enough that they were alone and the damn Quincy was there- was enough to make him know that today would be the day that they vented their feelings about the situation. There was a feeling of unspoken worry, the obviousness of their intent enough to make Ichigo roll his eyes. There was clearly something on their minds, something that they needed to talk about- and he didn't need telling what the topic of conversation would be. After all, it was one of the most important parts of his life now.

"Of sorts I suppose, Kurosaki."

"Bit of an obvious plot twist, don't you think guys?"

"What can we say, we're stars in a slice of life anime, expect the expected."

Ichigo raised his eyebrow, half-smiling at Ishida's dry wit, spoken with his customary coolness and with lack of humour, almost as if he hadn't meant it as a joke. He took another bite of his lunch- he had a feeling that pretty soon he wouldn't get a chance to eat any more. Inoue was wringing her hands, and of the three of them looked the most panicked. He hoped to god she didn't end up crying. He could never cope with it when women cried, it just made him want to punch things, and he had a feeling it might be himself he would end up wanting to sucker-punch in the face. He took the last bite of his rice, and waiting for one of them to start.

"Kurosaki-kun… we're a bit worried about you."

And so, he thought, it begins.

"Oh?"

She nodded.

"It's just… this whole situation, it's so volatile. We don't know what is going to happen, no one can predict it, y'know. And we were talking about it, and wondering whether… whether you had thought this all through."

He stared up at Inoue incredulously.

"Are you serious? You think I stepped lightly into a situation that could potentially have me killed for treason against the Soul Society?"

She waved her hands frantically, tears welling up at the corner of her eyes.

"Oh no, I didn't mean that! And don't say it would come to that, it never would, they could never call you a traitor!"

But then her words falters as she caught sight of the look in Uryuu's eyes, and the way that Ichigo had started staring at the horizon over their shoulders. The worry increased inside her, a knot of tension suddenly growing. She would never have thought in a million years that the Soul Society would have punished one of their own, would never have believed it… but she was good at reading people, and it was clear that the others did not share her conviction.

"It wouldn't come to that, Kurosaki-kun."

There was a lot less conviction in her words that time, and she slipped back into silence. Uryuu pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Kurosaki, we're just concerned for you is all. We're your… friends, after all. Even me. And we just don't want things to spiral out of control."

Ichigo scowled, too used to this. After all, didn't the same thought run rampant around his own mind half the time?

"How about you let me make my own decisions, huh? It's not like I'm not capable of doing it."

"Please, Kurosaki, stop being stubborn and understand why this is worrying us. You have to admit that there are risks to… _him_ being around."

It was the first time that Grimmjow had been mentioned directly, and Ichigo's expression grew a little colder at that. Orihime almost took a step back away from him, but steadied herself before she did.

"Like what, exactly?"

Uryuu still sounded calm, but a faint blush had risen on his cheeks and his fists tightened a little. He had known that Ichigo would take any advice or common sense, he had just known it.

"Like if he decided to turn on us."

"That isn't going to happen."

"How can you be so sure of that? Don't you see Ichigo, there is no guarantee of that being the case. We have no proof that he wont change, no security should he go back to the way that he was. We're just worried about the safety of the _town_."

Anger rose inside him, bitter in his mouth.

"For the love of- You don't think that the safety of the town is my main priority? Why do you think I'm out every night fighting hollows? Because this town is my responsibility, it's my job to protect it just like I did in the war. Don't tell me that I'm not looking after it. This is what my life _is_! That's all my life has been ever since I got these powers, looking after the town and the people that I care for. Don't you fucking dare tell me that I have forgotten it."

"But you have to admit, even if he isn't going to change, his presence draws more threats here."

"What do you mean?"

"Kurosaki, I've been watching. There are things coming through just for him, not for spiritual feeding. They focus in on him, zone in on him. His presence lures them in, he is bringing more of them in to Karakura! I don't know whether it's his spiritual pressure or some stupid hollow grudge-"

"That's all this comes down to in the end, doesn't it? It's nothing to do with risk or concern, you just cant stand the fact that he is an arrancar. You cant stand the fact that he's not human, or Quincy, or someone you can stand to be around. You don't like him and the fact that I'm with him, all because of the fucking mask on his face!"

Uryuu looked at him levelly.

"Fuck off Kurosaki, you know us better than that."

"Do I though? From what you're saying it's not like you've got any faith in me. In case you hadn't notice, I'm alright as it is, and I can keep control of this."

"You clearly can't, look at it already!"

"What the hell is that meant to mean?"

"For fucks sake, you're a shinigami, Kurosaki! He's a hollow!"

"In case you were too wrapped up in your own pathetic little world to notice, Uryuu, I'm not a fucking shinigami, and he's not a hollow either. Do you have any more redundant arguments, or can I get the fuck on with eating my lunch?"

Orihime was pale as Uryuu stormed off, but she tried to smile at Ichigo.

"I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun. I didn't mean for this to happen."

Ichigo didn't answer, concerned he would only yell. Instead he turned to Chad, who had stood there the whole time in silence. He didn't mean to sound as defensive and angry as he did, but rage already had the upper hand on him.

"Do you feel the same way then?"

Chad just shook his head, slowly and with a hint of sadness, as if he had expected Ichigo to know better.

* * *

Orihime went home that night upset and a little scared. She hated fights, hated arguments as much as she had hated watching the bloodshed on the battlefield, knowing that all she could do to make a difference was to patch up the wounded as best she could, to heal their broken bodies knowing there was nothing she could do for their broken souls. She had been scared by the outbreak, even though she was well used to Ichigo and Uryuu fighting. It had never been this serious though, had never become so heated and been over something so important.

On the vital things, the important things, the issues that really mattered, Ichigo and Uryuu normally agreed.

But this time it had been serious, even harder to witness because it had been her idea to go and confront Ichigo with their concerns. She knew that it would have come up one way or another eventually, they were all far too worried about Ichigo for it not to have done, but that did not stop her from feeling guilty.

Why did it all have to be so complicated?

Just months ago everything had been so much more simple, life had seemed so easy compared to now. She had still been a victim of unrequited love, but the worse that she had to content with was not understanding her homework, rather than worrying about the complex politics between the worlds that bridge life and death.

It was too much, she was sure, for a teenager to be able to deal with.

She threw herself down on the sofa in her room and sighed, trying to ignore the shiver of fear that she felt sometimes when she came home to an empty house, as if she expected someone to be waiting for her, waiting to take her back to Las Noches to have her heart ripped into pieces all over again.

There never was anyone there. That didn't stop the fear.

Particularly, at the moment, with the strange feeling she kept getting from the spiritual pressure in the city, the oddity of power that did not fit with anything that she knew or understood. Just what was the former-Espada now? Because he certainly wasn't an arrancar anymore, or a hollow. And why did she keep getting the urge to look over her shoulders, as if someone was watching her, hovering in the periphery of her vision and just waiting for her to turn her back.

It made her shiver, and for Orihime, there was no one to ease the doubts.

Not that she ever complained about that. I wasn't in her nature to question how unfair her lot in life was, or even to really ever think about it in that particular way. Orihime had always been simple in needs and desires. Many people mistook that for _her_ being simple, but she was well used to smiling gently at people who thought things like that, was used to turning the other cheek. She hated contradicting people, hated arguments.

She was happy enough just with the company of friends, and being able to smile, that was all she ever had needed.

Except…

Except one day that had all changed. On her first day in Karakura High, not looking where she was going as she left the classroom, she had run nose-first into the chest of another student. Looking upwards, instead of an annoyed look she had seen only faint amusement resting in dark brown eyes, a shock of orange hair.

She had been lost ever since then.

Ichigo Kurosaki.

She needed him in ways that she barely even understood and in ways that at the same time as pulling her apart also built her back up again, stronger than ever before. He was a constant in her life, without even knowing it always being the subject of her thoughts, her hopes. She dreamt of his attention, she sat and daydreamed about whether he was thinking of her, too. On cold, lonely nights spent curled up in her bed in the dark all the time not spent dwelling on her long-dead brother, or the shade that was Ulquiorra in her memories, was focused on him. She had been in love with him from the beginning, was still in love with him. As much as she would like to, there was no denying it, she knew.

Orihime sucked on the tip of a strand of hair, worrying it between her teeth. She had not considered that the Soul Society would punish Ichigo before today, but now that she did it was all that she could think of. How could she help keep him safe, when he refused to see sense about the dangers of the situation? Uryuu seemed focused only on the hollows that kept plaguing the city; Chad on the possibility of Ichigo being hurt. She had spoken to Urahara, and he had been his usual self and revealed nothing about what he thought of the whole situation; Hachi informed her the Vizards were most concerned about the actual threat of Grimmjow himself.

Grimmjow.

And she felt so hopelessly conflicted whenever she thought about him, the one that had- unintentionally, she knew- put an end to her hopes. Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. Former Espada, affiliate of Aizen's army.

Not exactly the best sort of man- if you could actually call him that- that they could have hoped for as an ally.

Never what she would have imagined as Ichigo's… as Ichigo's… lover.

She hated herself for feeling so much resentment towards Grimmjow, hated that her own emotions were working against her desire for peace. Because as much as she loved Ichigo, there was an core of benevolence within her that could not be uprooted, and she honestly believed that if Ichigo could never love her, then she wanted him to find someone that he could, someone that would make him happy, make him smile in the way that he barely ever did.

That didn't make it any less painful to think about.

She still loved him, more than she could possibly explain.

And now, staring up at the darkening night sky out of her window, she finally had to accept that he would never be hers.

* * *

That night it was warm, atmosphere humid, heavy and almost moist with the pressure of the weather. A storm was rolling in, the clouds dark grey, brimming with so much rain that they almost appeared bruised, blues and greens a subtle magpie undertone in the sky. It felt like the air was pressing down on the city, making everyone lethargic and slow. It was dark, the rumble of thunder in the far distance an ominous threat hanging over the city. Too late and night for anyone to be out on the street, too dark for anyone to be noticed even if they were.

That cover of darkness was nice, but it wasn't necessary for some of the people slipping through the city-bright shadows.

There are some people in the known world who have the power to make sure that they are never seen, even by those people who are particularly good at catching a glimpse at what should not be seen.

One of these people is Kisuke Urahara, who watched the shape slip through layers of reality and smiled to himself, shadowed in the brim of his customary hat. They were very good at being hidden, he had to give them that, but Urahara had far more experience than most people in any of the worlds in what could be unseen. He watched them from a rooftop, completely hidden from sight himself though he stood entirely in the open.

Subtle as sin, he thought, and no doubt with such as much ill intent.

The list of who they might be here to spy on was numerous, each option as valid and as likely as the rest. After all, Karakura sure did seem to attract people of an ill repute. They could have been here simply because of the high level of spiritual energy in the town, a reason as innocent as that, to begin with. Or else to check up on the strange humans with extraordinary powers that had appeared recently, perhaps trying to assess their powers. Another nut out to enlist the last of the Quincy's and start breeding a new super race perhaps. Or else someone trying to track down those who deserted the Soul Society, those who had heard strange rumours of what had happened to some of those that had escaped the order of imprisonment, of the strange transformations that had been witnessed on the battlefield. Or else they could be trying to find the legendary Kisuke Urahara himself of course, the man who had tricked the worlds a hundred times over.

Or else, there were here for two things that did not fit, two people who touched different worlds and yet never seemed to belong fully in either, unless they were with each other. Who bridged the gaps between worlds, which were flawed as they come but with intention that were as good as they could get. Characters of ambiguous loyalties and allegiances, one with the pressure of expectation and the other with the threat of death hovering over his head, both at risk from every side.

Two people who held in their hands extraordinary powers, unique powers, that the rest of the worlds were very right to be terrified of.

But really, despite these options, Kisuke Urahara had very little doubt about what they were doing here.

It had been the trademark of the Captain-Commander to send shinigami like these when there were things hat he needed to find out for centuries, after all.

* * *

Grimmjow stared moodily across the room at Ichigo, who was in turn staring at the wall. His head was resting on his clenched fist, his forehead knotted into a tight frown. He hadn't said a word in over an hour, the only sound from Ichigo's half of the room being the irritating tapping of a pencil, over and over again, against the desk. Ichigo had been curt with him all evening, growing quieter and looking more and more like he hated the world. In the end, he couldn't take the heavy and awkward silence any more, and growled underneath his breath.

"Why the hell have you been in such a pissy mood today?"

Ichigo didn't even bother to look around, just curled his lip. From the profile view that Grimmjow had of Ichigo, he caught sight of the expression, and it riled him. He hated it when Ichigo acted like this, all quiet and clearly pissed at the world. It reminded him far too much of the Ichigo in the middle of battle that he had once known so very well, and now, in a deep down way that he would never have admitted to anyone at all, never wanted to see again.

"Shut up, I'm fine."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. Yes. Ichigo was clearly more than fine. A okay, utterly peachy.

"Didn't ask if you were fine, idiot. I asked why you've been acting like a little bitch all fucking day."

He could almost feel the tension radiating from the other side of the room. Damn it, he had no patience for this sort of thing. He knew full well that he never would be able to, either.

"Because… just forget it."

There was a resigned tone to his voice, something that perhaps should have made Grimmjow sympathise but just pissed him off more. Ichigo just sounded childish, and that sort of thing just didn't sit right with Grimmjow. He wished the window was open; it was far too warm in here, and it only made it harder to think.

"Stop being such a dick, and just tell me. I thought that was meant to be okay now, us talking about shit."

"Don't be an ass, it's nothing to do with that. I just don't want to talk about it."

"And why the hell not?"

Ichigo spun around in his chair with a speed that showed his irritation, slamming his hand against the top of his desk. His cheeks were getting red with anger, and at the sight Grimmjow dug his nails into the palms of his hand. Honestly, this kid could be such a fucking bastard when he was in this sort of mood.

"Because I just don't fucking want to, okay?"

"No, it's not okay, not when you're acting like such a stuck up prissy little bitch about _nothing_."

Anger coursed through him, and Ichigo jumped to his feet, scowling at Grimmjow with vehemence, all normal affection and care forgotten in his anger. It had been one of the worst days outside of war, and now Grimmjow was only making it much worse. But right now, he did not want to talk about. He did not want to talk about anything whatsoever.

"It's not nothing, how the fuck the would you know about it?"

"Because you wont tell me anything, ya bastard! Stop being such a fucking _woman_ about this!"

"Fuck off, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow almost felt like punching him, but managed to resist the urge, strong as it was.

"Don't you fucking dare say that to me!"

"Why the hell not, you're the one being an ass!"

"Only because you're refusing to tell me anything about whatever has pissed you the fuck off!"

"Why should I tell you fucking anything?"

"Because you're meant to give a damn about me!"

Grimmjow almost yelled that last part at him, eyes on fire in a way that they normally were only in the heat of bloody battle. He supposed it must be something to do with how they felt about each other, but nothing managed to rile him up the way that Ichigo did. His blood was pumping, his body electric as if his zanpakuto was released in his hands, feeling alive but hating the world. Pantera was stalking back and forth in his mind, tail lashing back and forth as she showed her teeth to Ichigo's rage.

Ichigo said nothing, just stared at him, panting slightly. He looked hurt, but it just made Grimmjow all the more annoyed.

"Fine, whatever."

He turned quickly, body clearly tight with held in anger. He said nothing to Ichigo as he pulled the window open, and slipped through it into the night. No goodbye, nothing. Ichigo stared after him for a moment, before slumping back into his desk chair.

Great, just great.

Ichigo slammed his head into his desk, screwing his eyes together and groaning aloud with anger more at himself than at anyone else. It had not been the best of days, by any stretch of the imagination. And now he'd argued with his friends and Grimmjow was pissed off at him and would no doubt stay away for days before he came back, feeling righteous and expecting an apology.

He stood up, and threw himself down on his bed, burying his face in his pillows and wishing the day away.

It was hours before he managed to get any sleep.

* * *

He was right in guessing that it would take a while for Grimmjow to come around again.

Four days of silence followed their argument, and he bore them out with a complicated mixture of guilt, loss and an anger that was slowly and quickly fading out of importance and out of mind. He still had not spoken to Ishida, though he wanted to- it was just that every time he saw the bastards face the urge to sock him one grew again. He knew he was being childish, but couldn't quite bring himself to care. He didn't apologise to Chad when he saw him the next day, but the two looked at each other as if communicating simply with a stare all that needed to be said, and with a slight inclination of his head, Ichigo knew that he was forgiven.

He had no idea where Grimmjow had gone. Granted, he had never had to properly search him out in Karakura before, where the mass of spiritual powers sometimes got confusing- and Ichigo was no great shakes at tracking to begin with. He checked his usual haunts, searched in the old warehouse and even went to the wreckage of where the swimming pool had been demolished, but not a sign of him. He was starting to worry that Grimmjow had just fucked right back to Hueco Mundo, and hoped to god that was the case. He didn't fancy another reconciliatory trip there, not for anything. The tall, white walls of Las Noches were still present in his dreams, and not in a good way.

But this wasn't another case of him being able to run off here and there to try and find him. There was no gut instinct telling him what to do, just frustration and the worry that he might have pushed everything just that little bit too far yet again. Grimmjow's ability to conceal his spiritual pressure was clearly improving at lightning speed: he wondered if he had been continuing to train with Urahara without mentioning to him. After all, as irritating as they both found the bastard, he knew his stuff alright. He didn't check in the Shoten for Grimmjow- he couldn't bring himself to admit to Urahara that he was still being as stubborn headed a fool as he had ever been.

Instead, he settled himself in to wait, and to wonder.

When Grimmjow did reappear it was with as much silence and annoyance as when he left, sliding in through the open window like a breeze and sitting cross legged on Ichigo's bed, for all the world like nothing had happened but for the deep frown etched on his face, a frown that claimed it was not amused, and that Ichigo better have some good excuse.

Ichigo groaned to himself.

If there was one thing that he did not have at this moment in time, it was that.

So instead he sat at his desk without turning around, just as if they were in the same scene as they were several days ago. The silence was just as tense, the two of them were clearly just as unwilling to speak to each other. After a moment though, Ichigo cleared his throat, and remembered that at some point he was going to have to grow up, at least a little bit.

"Hey."

Grimmjow grunted at him, but looked slightly less angry than he had done a few seconds earlier. Encouraged by this, perhaps slightly mollified by Ichigo's obvious attempts at reconciliation, scratched his head, and decided to speak.

"So, uh-"

"Sorry."

Grimmjow blinked. Well that had been a hell of a lot easier than he had anticipated. Normally he had to drag apologies out of Ichigo with full force, but today this didn't seem to be necessary. He shrugged- why treat a gift like it was an attack?

"Don't worry about it."

Ichigo stood up, head turned towards the floor, for all the world like a naughty school child chastised by his teacher. It made Grimmjow feel a bit strange, that look of abject despondency, because in the end he still felt the vague and rare feeling of guilt in his mind, and there was a part of him that still sort of wanted to apologise back, as well. But he didn't, because Grimmjow wasn't that sort of a guy, as besides, Ichigo didn't seem to expect anything from him at the moment.

Grimmjow watched the other move towards him, before sitting down with a soft thump on the bed next to him. He shifted a little, and felt the warm press as their shoulders met on the bed. It immediately made him calmer, as if some sort of pressure had been lifted from him.

"What was up?"

Ichigo shook his head.

"Life."

The former Espada nodded. Hell, he knew that feeling- those days when nothing seems to go right, where you pick fights without meaning to with people you don't want to cross and where your temper ends up getting the better of you. Oh hell yes, he'd had days like this before.

"Know that feeling."

Ichigo turned to him and rested his forehead against the ball of Grimmjow's shoulder, screwing his eyes shut in unspoken relief that the other was back, that he had not left for good, that things were still okay between them. He felt the sharp, but not too uncomfortable pressure of Grimmjow's chin as he rested it on Ichigo's head, the orange hair soft against his skin. He felt suddenly tired, as if he had been fighting all day and had only just stopped, waves of adrenaline settling only to find bone numbing weariness. Ichigo had bags under his eyes too, and he seemed a little pale, as if he had not had much sleep recently either.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. Typical. He repressed a yawn as he glanced at the bed and thought of sleep, muttering the suggestion to Ichigo who agreed to it with a small, brief smile before standing up slowly, lethargically.

They slid under the covers together, wrapped up in each others arms, their disagreement already on the way to being forgiven

_I hate this fucking town,  
__And all my best friends will be  
__The death of me,  
__But they won't ever remember, remember  
__Quit crying your eyes out,  
__Quit crying your eyes out  
__And, baby, come on.  
_+44


	6. Five

**Chapter Five**

_Morality is simply the attitude we adopt towards people whom we personally dislike_. - Oscar Wilde

Karakura, poor town, should have simply been a quiet suburban place whose biggest fear was the commuter belt. Unfortunately, fate always has a trick or two up her sleeve, and it has instead become a place of spirits, a town with houses devoted to the dead who walk amongst us. Shinigami. Hollow. Arrancar. And then as well those humans that are not dead but are certainly not normal. Singularities, races.

Oddities, the lot, some visible and some not.

One place that housed a number of people such as this was in the slightly rougher part of town. It was neat and clean looking but just a bit run down around the edges. Inconspicuous, really. Something your eyes would sweep past without really thinking about it. Urahara's Shoten appeared closed up and deserted, but as anyone who ever knew, watched or trained underneath him knows very well, you should never let appearances fool you.

A hat can hide a number of thoughts; a darkened room a number of secrets.

Though the doors were closed and the lights were out, though there were no noise that a person on the street could have heard from inside the house, that did not mean all was quiet, all were asleep. You could peek in every window and see nothing, press your ear to the walls and hear no sound. However, despite this, inside it was a hive of activity, of training and shouting and insulting encouragement mixed all together with the sound of female laughter and the occasional explosion.

And if that sounds odd to you, then you clearly don't know enough about this particular shop.

So go through the door. No, not the front one, that just leads to the actual shop and you wont find anything there that is worth breaking in for, unless your tastes run to out of date sweets and cans of indeterminate origins. The shop doesn't make much of a profit, but that isn't the point of it, not really. The stock room might prove interesting, it is full of things that you will not find in any other shop, but that is not what we're here for. So leave it alone, skirt around the side of the building, down the side alley that is swept clean but unlighted. There is a door in the wall, closed and inconspicuous. It isn't locked: the owner never bothers. There are many people that he knows that come to him for refuge, information or just a quiet piece of advice; he leaves the door open for them, because they rarely come to visit on schedule or with an appointment. Or in the daylight, for that matter.

Yes, that's the door; the one with the cat-flap.

There is no need to lock the door anyway, because anyone stupid enough to try and break in will be noticed immediately, and there isn't much to steal anyway, for an ordinary human. And woe betide them if they catch the eye of an innocuous cat with fur so dark that it blends into the unlit wall, or a man hidden so deep in the shadows that you never could have seen him, with human eyes. For anyone more than that, there are countless protections to the house that would blind you to every spiritual signal or rietsu designed target.

The corridor behind the door is dark, cool. Western style tile on the floor is chipped and cracked, cold; colder against bare feet. The light bulbs are cracked or missing, the owner never bothered to replace it because most of the people he knows tend to move in darkness without thinking about it, are good at knowing what is around them without having to see or smell or feel it.

And for those who cannot?

Well, the noise will just make it easier for the owner to judge them.

So if you make it through the corridor you'll find the kitchen, and if you've got that far and you're not welcome you're close to going too far, because if you discover anything that is close to being of importance than your memory is pretty much gone anyway, and if you want to remember anything about this, you should leave.

But if you are welcome, then you'll know where the trapdoor is.

And if you lift it up, you'll find stairs that seem to hang without support.

Downstairs, at this moment in time, things were blowing up.

Not in the dynamite sense, but more in the Ichigo-is-getting-pissed-off-because-even-though-he-saved-the-world-and-defeated-Aizen-he-still-can't-fucking-manage-to-catch-Yoruichi sort of way. That tends to end up with lots of boulders getting destroyed as he misses her again and again and again. Yoruichi, far from being tired out by this pointless exercise, simply laughs harder at how frustrated he is getting, shaking her head and wondering when Ichigo will collapse tonight. Doesn't the fool realise that _no one _can catch Yoruichi? She'd spent far too many centuries escaping to let that happen.

From the sidelines Urahara was watching through narrowed eyes. Though he was grinning along with everyone else at the spectacle of Ichigo and Yoruichi he was worried, and perhaps a little annoyed as well, though the shopkeeper was not one who would regularly let that sort of emotion show.

But Ichigo, as much as he had improved with time and practise, was still unable to control his temper in a fight. He was still unable to do anything but get to the point of rage where his temper turned to the sharpest of black and cut through everything; not patience, just the full extreme of unadulterated rage. Sure, his head might clear when he reached that point, but it was a clear washed over with red.

And that wouldn't do.

Oh, for sure he had got better, and quite a bit so, even from the end of the Winter War, but he was sure, painfully sure, that it still would not be enough. He was still unable to call up the full force of his powers without getting to that point; first he suffered through unnecessary injury and tribulation when, if he were able to call up his full strength immediately, none of that would happen.

He shook his head. He remembered watching so many other try to learn the same thing that he was attempting to teach Ichigo.

And now, though the world was safe and the Soul Society at peace at last, it wasn't going to stay that way. The calm was only temporary, Urahara could feel it. This whole situation, he was sure, was spoiling for a fight. Oh, there had been spats, between Ichigo and his friends, things like that, but the big fight still hadn't happened. Those were spits of rain in the humid atmosphere, coming down from the bruise coloured clouds.

But they were still waiting on the storm.

And if Ichigo wasn't able to control his temper and keep a reasonable, sensible head, then things would spring rather rapidly out of his, and their, control.

Across the vast room, Tessai were trying- with extraordinarily little success, to teach Grimmjow how to do kido. Yes, you may laugh, but there was logic behind why they thought this was a good idea, and they freely admitted that the thought was relatively flawed to begin with: Grimmjow was not a shinigami by any means, and that meant that learning one of the shinigami arts was going to prove to be something of a problem. The rather charred remains of Tessai's shirt and the deep scowl on Grimmjow's face was enough to show that this was clearly the case with this experiment.

Tessai rolled his eyes across the room at his friend. He had taught a great many impossible cases, but this one might simply prove too much. Technically there should not have been a problem- Arrancar drew their power the same way as the Vizards, and they managed just fine with kido. However, there was either something fundamentally different with how they controlled their energy, or Grimmjow was just an impossibility. Tessai was more inclined to argue the latter.

Urahara had shared with him his concerns over the liability that was the unlikely couple, and they had agreed that though Ichigo was more than capable of looking after himself physically, as long as he kept his cool and released his power appropriately, Grimmjow might not have been. He had only been the Sixth Espada, after all, and one of the Captains took down the Primera without even having to resort to using his bankai.

Grimmjow was good. No question there; his changes between states had vastly improved his strength and power, but he hadn't managed yet to work out how to use it effectively.

He was a car crash of power, and every attempt to put order to it failed miserably.

Another explosion: by the look of it Grimmjow might have cost Tessai his eyebrows.

Urahara rolled his eyes, making sure that no one could see.

Just a typical night, he supposed.

* * *

Eight hours later and the sun was casting its washed out, peach coloured dawn light on the Shoten. Finally admitting defeat with training not long after Ichigo managed to actually hit Yoruichi with an attack (though it was only a glancing blow that did nothing more than rip the cloth covering her shoulder) and after Grimmjow managed to hold onto a ball of flame for a few seconds before burning his own hands, Urahara was content, for the moment, with the knowledge that at least a minute amount of progress had been made, for the moment.

He had to admit, he did enjoy moments like this, when the cluttered mess of them seemed more like a family than what they really were, a rag tag group of freaks and exiles.

Yoruichi was sat at the table, leaning over to grab a cold drink from the tray that Ururu was handing around to everyone, her eyes down on the floor as always but a slight pink flush on her cheek from the thanks everyone was giving her. Ichigo was sat on the edge of the counter, long legs stretched out and taking up a lot of room so that Jinta, with much annoyance, was having to duck underneath them. Tessai was watching Grimmjow attempt to clean up his burnt hands with some amusement. This was most of them, he supposed: it was just a case of the Vizards and Isshin and then all of them would be together, a nice group of Kurakara rejects all happy together. Although he supposed that, with Karin's latest developments, she should be here as well.

Ururu nearly tripped over Jinta's outstretched foot when something caught Urahara's attention, something well hidden but perhaps not enough on the periphery of his mental map of the city. From the way Yoruichi and Tessai stiffened, he guessed that they could sense it as well.

Ichigo looked at them.

"What is it?"

"Someone is coming. Grimmjow, get back in the cellar."

With a huff that implied irritation but without complaint or argument- after all, Grimmjow understood that if Urahara felt the need to hide him, it was probably for the best- he darted quickly back to the underground training room. The kitchen door burst open and, to the astonishment of only Ichigo (everyone else had been able to sense them already) Renji and Rukia piled in through the door just in time to hear the trapdoor shut.

"Guys!"

Renji nodded at him.

"Hey, Kurosaki. How's it going?"

Rukia, however, had quickly noted that all the usual suspects were in the kitchen, and her naturally inquisitive mind went straight to the trapdoor. She frowned, not forgetting the irritatingly vague warnings she had been given about 'odd things' and 'unusual presences' in Karakura.

"Who went down stairs?"

"Kensei and Shinji went down there to get some training done."

Urahara's lie was seamless, his face completely natural as ever it was. Ichigo, however, was turning pink, and Renji gave him an odd, contemplative look that suggested that, perhaps, he was a little suspicious. Ichigo hoped that it was just his own embarrassment that made him feel that paranoid.

"Why aren't they using their own place?"

Urahara shrugged lazily, and took the lemonade Ururu offered him.

"Something about Lisa being angry at Kensei. Apparently she won't give him any rest."

Rukia shrugged.

"Poor him. Sounds like Nanao and Captain Kyouraku to me, that man just went from one nagging woman to another, didn't he?"

Renji rolled his eyes.

"I don't think Kyouraku is complaining too much, to be honest."

Ichigo forced himself to laugh at the joke, and lapsed into uncomfortable silence as the conversation flowed around him, breaking only when he was required to contribute an opinion. He was tense, and it was obvious. The others were doing their best to make it seem like nothing was wrong, but he had an anxious feeling inside him that he could not ignore. But as the hours went on it started to relax, Renji and Rukia were settled and it seemed without suspicion, Grimmjow was safely hidden in a place where it was impossible to sense him even this close, even though he was probably bored out of his mind. Soon he began to enjoy their presence more and more, and he realised that, once again, it had been too long since he had caught up with his old friends.

"Oh yeah, Ichigo, we've brought more mail for you. Another one from my nee-san, and one from my Captain."

Renji scowled at the envelopes, particularly the one with the Kuchiki seal.

"You must have made quite an impression on my Captain, to have him write to you a second time, Kurosaki."

"Well, beating a guy in battle tends to do that. You should give it a try, Renji."

The group laughed at that, even Renji managing to roll his eyes in good humour. The morning was crisp but warming up, sun streaming in through the window as Ururu started to make food.

A knock on the outside door caused Urahara to glance up. Clearly more of an announcement of his presence than anything else, Shinji strode into the kitchen, his lanky frame seeming to take up more space than it should as it greeted the group.

"Ah, Tessai-san, I'm here to pick up that package you have for me?"

Renji was staring at him, frowning.

"Hey, Urahara, I thought you said Shinji was training downstairs?"

Shinji blinked, and backed up against the door. He didn't know who it was Urahara had hiding downstairs, but he was sure that it was hidden for good reason. Unnoticed by Renji and Rukia, who were staring with suspicious confusion at the shop keeper, he backed away, waving goodbye at Tessai from over their shoulders. He would come back another day, he thought, when he was less likely to cause such a problem. He had no desire to get in the way of any such dispute; it wasn't his place to take sides in such a fight. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and tried not to wonder.

"So who is down stairs?"

Ichigo's face, by this point, was bright red, more than a big enough give away of a secret being hidden. Rukia stood, and shot to the trapdoor, throwing it open. She was sure that one of them could have caught her before she got there, but either they chose not to or were too shocked by this turn of events or her speed.

She stared at a head of bright, blue hair, sat a few steps down.

"Oi, is it time for me to get out now or what?"

When it became clear that no answer would come Grimmjow turned, confused, only to see the terrified face of Rukia Kuchiki. She was staring at him in absolute horror, and with a feeling of dread, Grimmjow blinked.

"Damn."

The word seemed to startle her from her fear, and she fell backwards, yelling for Renji. He had been watching the resigned faces of the rest of the group with some puzzlement, and before he could get to Rukia Grimmjow was already emerging from the trapdoor. He leapt to his feet, hands on his zanpakuto. Only the calm expressions on everyone else's faces, and the face that _Ichigo _wasn't already attacking him, stopped him from releasing Zabimaru.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Grimmjow walked right past him to lean on the counter next to where Ichigo was sat. The Espada raised his eyebrows at him, as if to say, _what now? _Ichigo resisted the urge to rest his forehead against Grimmjow's in frustration, and simply shrugged in response.

Rukia, in the meantime, seemed to have recovered from her shock.

"Ichigo, are you... friends with this thing?"

"Don't call him a 'thing', Rukia."

"Ichigo, he's the enemy! He's one of Aizen's army! The standing order of the Sereitai is to report and kill on sight, not to harbour him in the cellar! What the hell are you all thinking of?"

Yoruichi flicked her wrist, indolent, lazily, as if this whole thing was far too tiresome for words.

"Rukia, let us be honest with you. Not one of us in this house give a flying fuck what the standing orders from the Captain Commander or Central 46 are. Not one of us is allied to them any more, and if you care to cast your mind back to those orders of yours, I think you'll find that Kisuke, Tessai and I are all on that same list. The order on the Quincy was never revoked. The Vizards all are on there, and it is only because he apprehended Aizen that Ichigo isn't, either. You don't appear to be killing us now, do you?"

Rukia, conveniently ignoring this, seemed to become more high pitched in panic. Renji, in the meantime, was stood silently watching Ichigo and Grimmjow, their movements and how comfortable they were together.

"Yoruichi, this is different! That creature tried to kill us, nearly succeeded! His main purpose in life is to kill Ichigo, that won't have changed!"

"Rukia, if I thought he was still trying to kill me do you honestly think I'd be stupid enough to be sat next to him?"

"It must be a trick of Aizen's still, he's luring you into a false sense of security..."

Grimmjow growled at that, fists tightening at the accusation.

"Hell, I didn't listen to him whilst he was in charge of me, what the hell makes you think I'd go around doing his dirty work now, girl? It wasn't him that saved me, was it? It was Ichigo that let me stay here, Ichigo who trusted me, and it's Ichigo that I am loyal to now, no one else!"

"You're lying!"

Tessai, normally silent, stepped in. Perhaps it was her surprise at hearing him speak that caused her anger to break down into confusion and grief, but whatever it was, tears welled in her eyes as he spoke, his deep voice echoing around the room.

"Do you think that we would, as you say, harbour him, if that really was the case?" He paused for a moment, as if thinking. "I have seen a great many evils in the world, Rukia Kuchiki. I may not have been the oldest shinigami in the Gotei but there were not many older than me when I was cast out for going to save the life of a Lieutenant dear to me, and in those centuries I have seen many things. I have fought in many wars and seen true evil in the eyes of some of my enemies, and in the eyes of some of the shinigami I was supposed to call my allies. Evil is not at the other end of a sword, and nor those that your ruler dislikes necessarily evil. Aizen, he was an evil man. Perhaps I did not see it at first but he was skilled at hiding it, and if there is one thing that Grimmjow Jaegerjaques is truly poor at it is hiding what he is. But still, I look at him and I see rage, and exhaustion, and I see sorrow, underneath it all, as there is in the heart of every inherently good person who has spilled blood, whatever race they be, whether they know that they are sorrowful or not. But one thing I do not see in his eyes, child, is evil."

With that Tessai left the kitchen, silence in his wake. Urahara touched the brim of his hat, even he, who it was normally impossible to shock, surprised by his friend's outburst, though not at all displeased with it.

Ichigo slid off the counter, and walked over to Rukia. He spoke her name, quietly, and she looked up at him through her tears.

"I'm sorry that I did not tell you sooner, Rukia."

With that he engulfed her small frame in an uncharacteristic embrace, drawing her close to him as the shock welled out of her. His back to the rest of the room, he closed his eyes, dreading what was to come.

"Ichigo." Renji's voice was cool, betraying nothing at all. "How did he survive? You said that he was dead."

"Ask Grimmjow, not me. It is his story."

Renji, eyes hard, turned to the former Espada and nodded at him, which Grimmjow took to mean an invitation to start.

"If you think Ichigo spared my life and lied, don't. He thought I was dead. For all intents and purposes, I should have died. That bastard Jiruga..." he trailed off for a moment. "But I didn't. I crawled into the desert, away from Las Noches and when I had used up all the energy I had, the hollow in me took control."

He looked at Renji, straight back in the eyes.

"You shinigami never learn enough about your enemies, from what Aizen told us. Hollows have a back up mechanism, something built in us that means when we are dying but there is something saveable we regress in form, using the energy we expel to heal our bodies. It isn't a conscious thing, I think it only kicks in once you've become really strong, but regardless, it's there. And then I came to Karakura. But I wasn't a hollow, though I was in my Adjuchas form. It was hollows I needed to take energy from, not humans. It still is. And so then I developed into the next form up again, and here I am."

Renji frowned.

"But you're not a Vasto-Lorde, you have a zanpakuto."

Urahara stepped in then, seeing the agitation in Grimmjow's eyes.

"We're not really sure what Grimmjow is, Renji. He's not arrancar anymore, because he never broke his mask, and he isn't a hollow either."

"So... you're keeping him here to experiment on him?"

Urahara shook his head.

"We're helping to train him."

Renji shook his head. This was clearly too much for him, and he sat down heavily on his chair, his head sinking into his hands. He had no words left to explain his confusion, his regret, his anger. Rukia pulled her face away from Ichigo's shirt, having cried herself and her shock out. Her eyes were red, face pulled into a frown.

"Training him for what?"

"For the inevitable."

"What inevitable?"

It was Ichigo that answered that time, and his voice was odd, distant and not at all like he had been when he had come to comfort her.

"The inevitable moment when the shinigami find out that he is here. They'll kill him, Rukia, you know that. And he doesn't deserve to be killed. He's done bad things, but... no worse than I have. He was just on the other side."

"Do the others know?"

"Ishida, Inoue and Chad do, yeah."

"And are they okay with it?"

"Not at first, but... they've accepted that I won't change my mind on this. And they owe me one, all of them."

Rukia nodded, and fell silent. Yoruichi's eyes darted back and forth, taking everything in as she went. The kids had made themselves absent a while ago, and the room seemed larger than it was, the space between in individuals growing in her mind.

Grimmjow had been watching the room, quiet and frowning himself. He shook his head, as if coming to a decision, and stood forward, no longer lounging against the cabinets. He seemed taller, more authoritative as he stood there, though also a little awkward as he prepared what he was trying to say.

"For a long time I hated the shinigami, almost as much as I hated Aizen. Frankly, I still think the whole think it a load of crap. I would have done anything to destroy the entire race, but... now, I don't. So you can trust in that, though I don't think that you will. But it's all I've got to offer you, and don't expect me to repeat it. I don't give a shit what you think of me, but Ichigo does."

Rukia looked at him, for a long moment. Her eyes were still scared but a flicker of a glace up at Ichigo seemed to reassure her of something.

"Ichigo, do you trust him?"

There was no hesitance in the response.

"With my life."

She turned back to the former Espada, voice firmer now than it had been before.

"Then I trust you, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. Not because I want to, or because I believe that you are a reformed man. I'm trusting you because the people who I would give up my life for seem to think that you are worth saving, and those people I owe many things to, not in the least my own life."

There was silence, for a moment, before she continued.

"And I will not say anything to anyone back home."

Renji, head cradled in his hands, sighed to himself and then looked up quite suddenly.

"Sorry, Kurosaki. But I can't promise the same thing. I've got a duty, and an obligation, and you're my friend, but..."

He trailed off, and though Ichigo felt a heat of anger at Renji he also understood his predicament. He supposed if he was in the same position he might feel the same. This was an institution that had taken Renji into it's heart, and Renji had given decades of his life to the order. His first thought was duty towards it. With Rukia it had been different; her loyalty to the organisation had been shaken by the death of Kaien and the complicated web of Kuchiki family politics. So instead of the angry retort he wanted to give to Renji, he nodded instead. Rukia was staring at her oldest friend wide eyed. She whispered his name, surprised but knowing that she shouldn't be.

"So, Kurosaki, I think we should leave. Rukia, you coming?"

She nodded and followed after him. Renji held the door open for her and she turned to Ichigo and smiled before she left, though she looked worried. Renji paused as well before he left the kitchen, hesitant, clearly still in the midst of a moral dilemma that was consuming him.

"I'll leave it a while, before I let anyone know. Give you some time to... you know, plan, or whatever. Next time I get an afternoon off I'll come around and then say I saw him then."

Urahara nodded, even though Renji was clearly talking to Ichigo.

"Good luck, you guys. And Kurosaki?"

Ichigo looked up at him, tired.

"If there was any other way, you know I would do it."

And with that, they were gone.

Grimmjow sat down beside him, resting his hand briefly on the small of Ichigo's back, where his skin was warm and taut. He could see how tired Ichigo was, perhaps not physically, but emotionally drained.

"You didn't mention _us_, then?"

He said it with a grin in his voice, and Ichigo turned to him with an eyebrow raised, humour left despite the exhaustion.

"I thought one surprise was enough for the day."

* * *

It was hours until Ichigo thought to open the mail that the two had brought. He glanced at the two. Byakuya's was likely to be stern and irritating, but a letter from a Captain he did not know so well... Ichigo left that one for the moment, having no clue why Ukitake would be writing to him at this moment in time. The only things he could think of were ominous. The letter from Rukia's brother, however, was much more likely to contain a lecture, in his usual demeaning and distasteful fashion. The cream, square envelope from Byakuya was light, inside just one side of writing in his elegant, dignified hand. There was no letter head on the paper, from his division or his house. It was clearly a much more personal letter, not one written on behalf of one of his two stations.

_Kurosaki._

_Advice is rarely something that I give for free, and it is not a thing that I would normally bestow on someone so below my station as you are. That in mind, I am contacting you today not for your own good but for the good of the institution that you would shame with your actions by your mere association with them. _

_I would warn you, here and now, that you are not unobserved. There are many voices of public opinion here in the __Sereitai__ that argue that you are a liability, someone dangerous. In the upper nobility there is talk that efforts should be made to restrain your powers and movements, and I feel I must explain to someone so ignorant of politics and the workings of authority that these are voices that will be heard._

_You are but a child, though you are loathe to admit it, and in the eyes of the men of power you are a threat to the stability that they must recreate. _

_Do not think that you are safe, simply because you are doing no wrong, Kurosaki. _

_Do not be so ignorant to believe that I warn you with any sympathy or allegiance to you. I write this letter not because I care for you or because I believe that you are owed anything by this family name. I write to you, for a small part, simply because of the devastation that your imprisonment would have on those closest to me. _

_However, the more prominent reason for this warning is my desire to keep the shinigami Divisions from divide. There are those who would break down the very foundations of our stability for your freedom, and those who would do anything to prevent such chaos. There are some, though I shall not name them, who agree with those who would have you captured._

_I have no desire for such madness to descend upon the Gotei._

_Think well upon what I have said, Ichigo Kurosaki. It may make all the difference._

_Captain Kuchiki_

Ichigo sighed as he folded the paper and placed it back with the other envelope.

There were too many things to think about right now.

With a heavy sigh he fell back on his bed, body curving to meet the welcoming warmth of Grimmjow.


	7. Six

**Chapter Six**

_Love one another and you will be happy. It's as simple and as difficult as that_. - Michael Leunig

Ichigo didn't get around to reading the second letter until the next day. Too many things were whirling in his mind already. He could see the same concern in Urahara's expression, for although he was trying to keep his expression under his hat blank his jaw was tensed, hard to miss. Tessai he did not see whilst they remained at the Shoten through to the evening, although both Ichigo and Grimmjow wanted to see him. His unprecedented outburst warranted a thanks. Yoruichi vanished for a little while only to reappear as her feline self, the baritone of the cat-voice much harder to read than her normal one.

Grimmjow was worrying too; though to an onlooker he was the hardest to judge, Ichigo knew him well enough to be able to see that flicker in his eyes that meant he was thinking hard.

That flicker made him think all the more about what was to be done.

It wasn't until Ichigo woke up the next morning and saw the envelope that he thought about what Ukitake might have to say. With slight trepidation he ripped it open, sat on the edge of his bed whilst Grimmjow rested his head on Ichigo's shoulder and demanded to have the letter read aloud so he knew what was going on.

_~ From the desk of Captain Ukitake ~_

_Kurosaki-kun_

_Forgive the haste and informality of this letter, but I have only just been made aware of my subordinate's plan to visit you in Karakura tonight. I do not know if you are aware that I was the Captain chosen to oversee the developments made by your town following the aftermath of the War_- Ichigo blinked at this, not being aware that there had even been any such procedure to monitor the town in place_. Do not fear, we did not plan this with any thought of hideous after affects of the shift of the town, we simply wanted to monitor it to make sure it settled back into the living world without too much fuss, which I can assure you it has!_

_However, we do have some concerns raised by the levels of spirit power in the town over the last few months, and were wondering if you had any idea about the causes of such irregularities. _

Ichigo could imagine Ukitake there, pausing over that last word, wondering if it was quite appropriate to describe the singular oddity that was Karakura_. _

_We have always been aware that Karakura was more prone to Hollow attacks than most places, as it has a number of residents with slightly elevated powers and unusual origins. _

"Is that his way of saying that the place is full of people the Gotei are trying really hard to pretend aren't here, d'you reckon?" Grimmjow asked him with a smirk.

_Recently these attacks have escalated. One popular theory is that, as the protection of the town has also become much more effective, Hollows are now seeing it as a, well, a particular challenge, you might say. What views do you have on this? You must inform me if these attacks are becoming tiresome, we would be more than happy to send a couple of Shinigami to lighten the load. I know that the three of you were adamant that you could handle it alone, but if that has changed, please do not let pride stop you from changing your mind!_

_Another point of interest is that spikes of a much more advanced kind of spiritual power have been traced to Karakura. Our scanners were not quite sure what to make of it, and some think that perhaps your own power, being so unique as it is, might spike in ways that our scanners have difficulty in evaluating. Or else, has anything come to you or your colleagues attention that has been out of the ordinary recently?_

At this Ichigo paused, not sure what to make of that last one. It was true- the power could have been his own, though he would have thought with all the time he had spent fighting the Shinigami, that they might have been able to recognise his powers by now, unless they really were trying to ignore the obvious traces of hollow in them.

Otherwise, this 'complex' power would logically have to have been Grimmjow.

"What d'you think?"

He could see that the same thoughts were running through Grimmjow's mind. In the end his companion simply shrugged.

"I guess we let 'em keep thinking it's you for as long as we can. Go on, what else has he got to say?"

_Finally, I would like to ask a question that I trust you will use your digression towards. I am obviously in control of these scanners, and it is only I and my two acting Lieutenants that see the readings before they are passed on to Kurotsuchi of the Twelfth Division for proper analysis. However, I am not afraid to admit that my age- and the amount of times my division has been placed in charge of the town scanners- means that I have a better knowledge than most about what the readings mean. There is one that I have kept back from being sent, out of curiosity and, a little, because of my own concern. This reading details the presence of an Espada in Karakura, on the night of the Tenth of this month, on the edge of town in the Ho Sai district. Our machinery seems to indicate that it is of a high rank, certainly above five, and is injured. Please contact me quickly about any knowledge you or your friends have of this creature. I am aware that there are some in Karakura whose eyes and ears are sharp, and who do not report to the Soul Society, and I would ask that you inquire with them, as well. Have my assurances that knowledge of them will not be passed on to higher authorities. _

_I do apologise if this message seems to you to be a bearer of bad news; dark times calls for dark writing, it seems!_

_Give my regards to Ishida-kun and Sado-kun, and if you can pass on the message to our mutual, hat-wearing acquaintance that Kyouraku will be visiting on the twenty fifth, it would be most appreciated._

_Regards,_

_Jyuushiro Ukitake_

_Captain of the Thirteenth Division of the Gotei 13_

"Another Espada? Or do you think they mean you? No, it can't be: you were in Urahara's on the tenth, it was right in the middle of that week you spent there. Didn't you say that you didn't leave the training grounds at all? That means no one would have been able to sense you, regardless of what you did."

Grimmjow's eyes had gone dark, almost murderous, staring into space in a way that Ichigo had not seen in a very long time. They only cleared a little when Ichigo turned and took his shoulder, squeezing it tightly. The same thoughts were running through both of their minds. Which of the Espada had survived the fall of Las Noches and the battle for Karakura? Which of the Espada had found their way back here, and, perhaps most importantly, did it mean them any harm?

And how could they find out?

* * *

Three hours later, Ichigo opened his front door to see Ishida and Inoue, who had obviously arrived together. He raised his eyebrows at that- when did Ishida ever accompany anyone?- but didn't comment on it, only ushered them inside, glad not for the first time today that his father had been called in to assist at the understaffed hospital. It kept him out of the way and being at Ishida's dad's hospital always cheered his old man up. Ichigo reckoned it was just the reaction that the Quincy had from the sight of his large, bumbling father.

"So, why the hurry to get us here, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo was already half way up the stairs, and didn't respond. The two looked at each other and Orihime smiled a little awkwardly, clearly bemused. They followed him anyway.

He was waiting for them on the landing. Ichigo had paused in the doorway to his room. Behind him they could see Chad's long legs stretched out across the carpet, clearly having already arrived and taken up most of the floor space. To their surprise, Ichigo was blushing, looking almost flustered.

"Guys, don't... panic, or anything."

They looked at him, unsure what to make of that. It was Ishida who clicked on to what Ichigo meant first but he said nothing, just clenched his jaw and slid his glasses up his nose to hide the expression of displeasure that he was already wearing at being in a Shinigami household, but that had just been made worse.

"Inoue, Ishida... This is Grimmjow."

Ichigo stepped into the room, and there he was. He had been hidden by Ichigo's body in the doorway before now, sat cross-legged on the bed. Ishida said nothing, but Orihime gasped as she looked at him. He appeared just the same to her as he had done in Las Noches, that terrible place that still haunted her nightmares. But when he looked up at her, caught her eyes, she saw something there that she did not expect. It was nothing so obvious as remorse, or softness, but it was as if the rage inside him burnt with a little less fervour, and was no longer directed at her. He seemed to look at her the same way that any stranger would look at another, as if it were a different man that had dragged her by the hair to heal Ichigo's body only so he could try to destroy it again.

But then his lips moved a little, and she saw those pointed canines, and knew that this was the same man, just as capable of such cruelty and just as able to commit atrocities as he ever had been. The same man, he could still do the same things... but now, perhaps, the sort of man that might chose not to, at the touch of a steady, reliable hand.

The room was silent, until Ishida spoke with exasperation.

"What the hell is this, Kurosaki, bring your pet to school day?"

Grimmjow scowled at that but at a warning glance from Ichigo he did nothing but fold his arms. Orihime found herself entranced. The hair was the same impossible shade of blue, his skin the same tan but missing scars now, as if he had completely regenerated his entire body. Which, she supposed, he had.

"Ishida, leave it. We've got something important to talk about. Something big. It's gonna be a problem for all of us, so we thought it fair that you all know. I've got some bad news and, well... I've got some other bad news."

Grimmjow exhaled sharply at that, making Orihime, who was still stood by the door, jump.

"Come in, would ya girl, and shut the door."

She blinked at him for a moment before she realised that he had been talking to her, and all but slammed the door shut behind her before sinking to the floor. Realising he was trapped for the moment, Ishida removed his coat and took the desk chair.

"Basically, Renji and Rukia found out about Grimmjow."

Ishida raised an eyebrow delicately.

"And how did they take this news?"

Ichigo ran his hands through his tousled hair and sank down on the bed next to Grimmjow.

"They freaked out a bit. But in the end Rukia promised to keep it a secret. She said she'd trust him, because Urahara and Yoruichi and I did. But Renji... he said he was obligated to inform them. He's given us some time before we do, though I don't know how long."

This news caused even Chad to stir. He looked up at Ichigo through the veil of his hair with sympathy in his deep, brown eyes. Ichigo glanced back, and smiled just a little, as if he had received this silent message.

"So we're gonna have to figure something out about that. Urahara said he'd stop by today some time, says he's got something that might work, but he's not sure if we'll want it." He shrugged, clearly out of ideas.

Ishida stroked his chin.

"We're all implicated in this. As much as I think this-" he gestured to the two of them on the bed- "was a foolish idea, we are obligated to help you, if just to cover our own backs."

Orihime broke her gaze away from Grimmjow, who was starting to feel a little weirded out by it. She was torn, but at the same time she knew exactly where she stood on this situation. As much as it broke her heart to realise that Ichigo was never going to be hers, that did not mean that she could not be happy for him, and try to help him.

"That's not why I'll help you, Kurosaki-kun. You're my friend, but most of all, when I was in a hopeless situation, you never gave up on helping me."

Ishida looked startled.

"Inoue, it's hardly the same thing-"

"It is though!" She turned to Grimmjow, who seemed just as thrown as everyone else by this girl's sudden outburst. "Jaegerjaques-san, Ichigo never gave up on me. He saved my life. And you can make him happier and more upset than I have ever seen him, and from what I know, I think that means that you must be very important to him. And because he is very important to me, that means I'll do whatever it takes to keep you in his life."

The other four stared at her, a little shell shocked at this declaration of loyalty.

After an awkward silence, Grimmjow cleared his throat and tore his eyes away from the baffling girl in the corner.

"Our other problem is just as bad. Some Captain wrote to Ichigo, couple of days ago. Apparently the shinigami have been monitoring the town, and on the tenth they registered an Espada on the outskirts, the bit where all the warehouses are. We know it wasn't me- I was training with the Hat guy at the time. It's injured, but it's fifth or above."

"It was Captain Ukitake, you know, the one with the white hair who is Rukia's Captain, who is always ill? He wants to know if any of us have seen anything odd."

There was a brief, tense silence, and the Ishida cleared his throat.

"I have seen nothing of that nature... but I have been observing some irregularities, recently. Hollows that look normal, but that have strange looking masks."

Grimmjow looked up at that, interested.

"Sort of like they've been broken?"

Ishida nodded, trying to hide his surprise.

"Yeah, I've seen that as well. It's something that sprang up in Hueco Mundo when the Bastard starting making arrancar. He learnt the knack soon enough, but his earlier attempts were a little less pretty. Started off just ripping whole masks off to see what was underneath, you know? You used to see them skulking around the walls some times, all scar tissue and terror. Pathetic things."

He stretched out his legs, sticking them off the bed, and Orihime watched, fascinated, as a thin stream of white sand fell from his hakama to the carpet.

"I was there today, looking around, trying to find answers. Fucking useless though, everything scatters when I get close. But there is something going on, I can feel it. Some big group of hollows, but they feel strange. I never knew what ripping the mask of you entirely can do; the ones Aizen kept as pets had the life whipped out of 'em."

Orihime shuddered, involuntarily. Grimmjow caught the movement out of the corner of his mouth and lowered his tone. Ichigo would only get pissy if he freaked out the girl. Although, he had to credit her, she had done a hell of a lot better faced with the full reality of Grimmjow in front of her. He had figured she'd scream, or at least collapse to her knees. The kid was braver than her fragility made her appear. And that speech, that declaration of loyalty... like Tessai's, it had been surprising. That people could care so much about others and it not be about revenge was something he was struggling to come to terms with. His feelings for Ichigo were something else, something he could barely understand to begin with but knew to be different. And now this girl was looking at him with something bordering forgiveness.

It was impossible to explain. Even worse to accept.

"But anyway, I found out something else. It might not mean anything, but I managed to grab hold of a little runt of an Adjuchas and he started squeaking when I showed him my six-"

"Why on earth would you do that?" cut in Ishida. Ichigo glanced at Grimmjow's frown. The former Espada clearly didn't understand what Ishida was asking, why he didn't understand this concept, so natural to him. So Ichigo answered, hoping he could make sense of it for Grimmjow.

"It's... a way to prove who you are. Like you in your blue and white. Something to prove your status and that you're something important."

The Quincy nodded, and Grimmjow continued. His eyes were animated, his expression far away, as if back there.

"It was terrified of me. I could feel it through its skin. And then it started mumbling something about numbers, and sharks, and passed out right there."

"Sharks?"

"I think it was talking about resurrections. They often have... animalistic qualities, that was what Aizen called it. Qualities. But I have no idea what anyone higher than Jiruga's looked like, and I only saw his once. The stronger you were, the less likely you were to have to do it. The less likely you were to be challenged, for that matter."

"What was Nnoitra's?"

Grimmjow looked at Ichigo, baffled.

"You fought him, didn't ya?"

"Well, yeah, but I wasn't really paying attention to that. Kenpachi barged in pretty soon afterwards anyway, after Nel had tried. You'd cut me up pretty bad as well, you bastard. I was still a bit woozy."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, as if to say, _you're never gonna let that one go, are you?_ But he carried on none the less.

"Jiruga's was odd. Some sort of insect thing, I think. Doesn't make a difference, anyway. It's not a shark." He paused, rolling his shoulders. "It's the moment I think I should'a paid attention when Aizen was wittering on about everyone's powers. Probably could have found out that way..." he trailed off, frowning.

"What did you do with it? The hollow that told you this, I mean?"

He turned to Orihime, whose eyes were wide and innocent. He contemplated lying, to please Ichigo, but the big bad wolf in him got the better. He grinned, showing his fangs.

"I ate it, of course."

* * *

Ichigo walked the well-known streets to the warehouse with a slow tread, weighed down by concern of what was to come. He had been avoiding the Vizards recently, and he knew that they would have noted this. No doubt Urahara would have made many jokes around the topic of Ichigo's love life as well, so he would probably be met with cat calls and questions. Those, no doubt, would die out as soon as he mentioned what he was there for.

But that was not the only thing plaguing his mind. Though he was happy enough that Ishida, Inoue and Rukia had agreed to help them, as well as Chad's unwavering loyalty, he was still worried about what Renji might do. Not intentionally, of course- he trusted Renji with his secret the same way he would trust the shinigami to take his back in battle- but more because, as good a man as he was, he could be very transparent about his feelings. People would be bound to notice his worry and concern, and when finally he reported Grimmjow people might join the dots. More than anything, he didn't want Renji to get into a tight spot because of him.

And if no one noticed Renji being concerned, or made the link between the two?

Well, then he had a no doubt charming communications from the Soul Society to look forward to, requiring, no doubt, his immediate presence. Who would it be from, what would it consist of? A kindly letter from Ukitake asking him to come in for a consultation? A contingent from the Fourth arriving to 'cure' him of this psychological problem that he clearly must have, in their opinion, to fall for the enemy? An official summons from Central46 detailing the necessity of his presence in a court case to decide the fate of the former Espada? Or perhaps something far more simple than any of that: an armed unit to take him away in chains to a prison cell where he would be locked away for a long, long time.

"Well, look who it is!"

"It's been a while since we've seen him, hasn't it Hiyori?"

"It has indeed. What have you been up to, Ichigo?"

"Cavorting with other young things is what I hear, Lisa."

"Oh, to be young and in-"

"Guys, shut up. This is serious." They stopped, smiles falling from their faces as they took in his frown and his tight jaw. This clearly was something of importance then, if Ichigo would not even entertain their banter with blushes and angry rebuttals of their jokes. If he wasn't being any fun when baited, they knew that there must be a problem. Hiyori whistled over to a couple of them who were on the other side of their expansive, underground home, and they came over quickly.

Shinji folded his arms, raising an eyebrow.

"So, what can we help you with?"

Ichigo shuffled his feet a little, not sure how to begin. Or where to begin, for that matter. He felt heavy, as if there were too much of himself being dragged around.

"I need to ask you guys something. About the war. Something I don't remember, you guys are the most likely to."

The Vizards looked at each other, a little confused.

"And there is news from Captain Ukitake."

He was gratified to notice that there were nods and smiles and the mention of the Captain's name. As Ichigo had thought, he was clearly one sympathetic to their cause, the same way he had tried to rescue Rukia. He was clearly a man of great standing and respect amongst the Vizards, who reacted to the names of many shinigami with expressions of distaste.

"He's been monitoring the town, and apparently on the tenth the scanners picked up signs of an Espada on the outskirts of town. It was injured, and he reckons above fifth. How well do you all remember the battle for Karakura, when you joined in?"

To his surprise, it was Hiyori that responded.

"As sharply as if it were this moment. It was our return."

She turned away, hands on hips, as if contemplating something, and spoke over her shoulder to him.

"It was what we had be waiting for, for all those years."

"So you remember which Espada were there?"

Shinji nodded, scratching his chin.

"The Primera, called... shit, what was it?"

"Starrk," Lisa filled in for him, "He was fighting Captain Kyouraku. He had some wolves, or dogs, or something like that. Then there was some big old guy who turned into a skeleton and could rot away flesh. Then the third, as well, who that Hitsugaya kid was fighting when we got there. It was definitely the top three."

Ichigo nodded. He knew for a fact that Ulquiorra was the fourth Espada, and his release had been something akin to a bat. And then Nnoitra made five, with his insect. So it would have to be one of the top three, unless Ukitake's sensors were right out. He asked them if any of those three resembled or had the characteristics of a shark, and was met with a clear and unanimous agreement: the third.

"Which one was that?"

He responded to their looks of bemusement and exasperation defensively.

"Hey, they were not high on my list of priorities at the time! That was all under control by the time I got there. I was focused on other things!"

Shinji shook his head, slowly.

"It was the female Espada. She never showed her mouth; it was all bone, like a skeleton. She had three followers, they were taken out by the Captain Commander when he got pissy at some of the Lieutenants not being able to do it properly. But it wasn't us who cut her down; in the end it was Aizen. She wasn't worthy, clearly, so he cast her aside. He had a... habit, of doing that."

Silence fell around them, and Ichigo struggled with the other thing that he had come here to tell them. Out of anyone, he thought it was the most difficult breaking the news to these people that he had come to think of as friends. In a lot of ways Ichigo did not know where his allegiance truly lay anymore; but one thing he did know was that if the Vizards were ever in need of an ally, he would join them instantly.

"Another Espada survived."

It was as if he had shot them. They turned to him quicker than he could see, eyes wide and with more surprise than he could deal with. This wasn't rumours of the results of the notoriously faulty scanners. This was Ichigo, one of them, telling them. Ichigo swallowed.

"He's here. With me. He's... changed now, he's different."

Rose was the first to move. With a deep, weary sigh he turned his back on Ichigo, and walked off. After a moment Love followed him, clearly lost for words. Kensei was gaping at him, clearly speechless. Mashiro's expression was bemused, but full of grief at the same time, as if Ichigo had told her that the world was due to explode and there was nothing that they could do about it.

Lisa shook her head.

"It's just like in a manga," she turned, and walked off, though in a different direction to the others, "only this is hurting more people."

This seemed to be a trigger for Hiyori, who flitted away, zanpakuto drawn, and began destroying boulders, screaming as she did so in rage. He could just about make out words over the sound of smashing rock, something about 'how could he' and 'one of them', and 'they never change'.

He looked to Hachi, as if appealing for reason, but all he did was sit on the ground, head bowed so that Ichigo could not see his expression, and began to craft some form of complex kido. He hadn't said a word to Ichigo. Kensei had recovered his shock but was silent, cheeks pink with rage as his hands ghosted over the hilt of his zanpakuto.

That just left one, the one that Ichigo was perhaps most afraid to see the reaction of.

He understood their feelings, at least, he thought that he did. He had heard them talk about the Espada before, he knew their feelings. They had been changed, their lives destroyed, simply as a precursory experiment to the creation of the Arrancar. Looking at them made them feel used, and he suspected, in a small way, inferior. Ichigo had never voiced to them what he always thought when they spoke of this: that it was hardly the fault of the Arrancar that Aizen was such a twisted bastard. That there were hollows just as tortured as they had been. That, really, the Vizards and the Arrancar were just the same, but in reversal. Yin and Yang. Shinigami with hollow thrown in; hollow with shinigami.

Shinji was simply staring at him. It was a long, hard look, as if he were trying to find the answers to something that he didn't explain, but it was enough to know that he thought Ichigo had betrayed them, helping the enemy. It was not a stare full of malevolence though, more confusion and, and the heart of it, disappointment.

Ichigo turned, without saying a word, and left.

* * *

By the time he returned to his own home Urahara was sat in his room, perched merrily on Ichigo's desk and having great fun baiting Grimmjow. To Ichigo's surprise, Ishida was there as well, though he had left when Ichigo had. He seemed quite relaxed, though Grimmjow was scowling. He threw his coat on the floor and took a seat on the bed, turning tired but quizzical eyes on Urahara.

"Well, what have you got for us?"

Urahara steepled his fingers, resting his chin on them.

"This option... it is drastic, irreversible. I do not expect that you will chose it, but you should know that it is there. It is something I started developing for MOD souls. Something experimental that I tried to use on Rukia, but..." he trailed off, frowning. He removed his hat, and Ichigo saw that, though he sounded the same, there were deep shadows of fatigue under his eyes.

"It is a gigai. You know I make gigai, don't you? Grimmjow, I heard that Aizen had made some for Arrancar to slip into the human world?"

Grimmjow nodded, shrugged, and cracked his knuckles.

"Anyway, this particular gigai type. I noticed a while back that a defective gigai had the properties to turn a spiritual being human. I started making them safer, hoping to be able to give bodies to the MOD souls. It's really not fair, them being trapped in plushie bodies all the time. But my thought was, and I stress that this is irreversible, we might give one to Grimmjow."

"What?"

"It would make him human, Ichigo."


	8. Seven

For the anonymous reviewer who commented that I was 'like fanfiction Shakespeare', thank you. Although I have to say, if Shakespeare wrote fanfiction, I think the world would be a terrifying place.

Points to whoever recognises the character from 'Markings' that is in this chapter…

**Chapter Seven**

_There are times when fear is good. It must keep its watchful place at the heart's controls_. - Aeschylus

_"I noticed a while back that a defective gigai had the properties to turn a spiritual being human. I started making them safer, hoping to be able to give bodies to the MOD souls. My thought was, and I stress that this is irreversible, we might give one to Grimmjow."_

_"What?"_

_"It would make him human, Ichigo."_

_Ichigo Kurosaki had a dilemma._

It was not a simple or an easy one, it was not a matter that could be thrown aside and left for later, and he was at a complete loss for what to do. No matter which way he tried to think about it, he just could not find an answer that did not end up with more complications and pain. His mind was full of questions, his thoughts ranging from confused to indecisive, without much variation between the two. Urahara's announcement, his so-called 'solution', had thrown him completely. There were too many sides to the argument, too many pros and far too many cons, too much pressure and not enough time.

Only Uryuu and Urahara knew, as far as he was aware, about the offer presented to the two of them, and they were not the sort of people that he felt comfortable going to for advice in this situation. He could try and talk to his father, to another friend, but he had a feeling that he wouldn't get any useful responses or answers to his questions.

Because, at the end of the day, he doubted that there was anyone one else in any of the worlds who had been put in such a situation.

And with Grimmjow unresponsive to questions, he was left alone with his thoughts.

If they went through with this, if they decided that Grimmjow should become a human, then he would not pose a threat to the Soul Society any more. Not to mention that it would be much easier to hide him, they probably wouldn't have any interest in him any more. He would lose his powers and he wouldn't be under threat. He could live a normal life.

The two of them would be happy.

Life could go on.

Everything would be for the better.

They would be safe, they could be together with ease. They would age together, without concerns about how Ichigo, as a human, would age, and Grimmjow would not. Because of course, Ichigo would eventually die, leaving Grimmjow alone; there was no way to guarantee that Ichigo's soul would remember Grimmjow once it passed into the Soul Society; most spirits there did not remember who it was they had been, who had been their family, who had been their lovers.

This way, Grimmjow would not end up alone.

Really, when you looked at it like that, there wasn't a choice, was there?

* * *

The overcast sky had been threatening rain for days, and it finally let free that afternoon. It was much darker in the streets than it should have been in the early afternoon, the clouds a thick blanket in the sky blocking out the light. Down narrow and tree-lined roads the street lights turned on and off uncertainly, the sensors unable to tell whether it was night or day. Grimmjow stood underneath one for a moment, watching the rhythmic flickers without expression, until he moved on.

Pantera had been silent for hours; she was wondering the same things that he was, he was sure of it.

He felt no cold from the rain, and he rubbed a thin film of water off his bare arms, wondering what it would be like to be able to feel the extremities of temperature on his skin. In heated sunlight, he felt only the slightest vestiges of warmth; in the frost only the hint of chill. This rain was nothing to him.

If he were human, he would be able to feel.

He shook his head, trying to dismiss such arbitrary thoughts. He already knew what the answer to the option that Urahara had given them should be.

It was just a question of coming to terms with it.

He whispered Pantera's name, and wasn't sure if it was in his head or aloud. He didn't understand what was going on in his own mind. He could feel the confused rustle of her fur in his mind as she crept through a narrow passageway; when he closed his eyes and sunk into his mind he felt as if he were there, and through her eyes all he could see was the black darkness. He could feel that it was a tunnel just big enough for her to pass through; she had come across it on a mountainside. She had gone down the rabbit hole. She couldn't turn back, her only option was to keep going.

She was lost, he thought, though she would never have admitted it.

Just as he wouldn't.

But where would this come out? He didn't know, couldn't know. They just had to keep on moving.

It almost felt as if they were falling, but he knew that made no sense; after all, her paws were firmly on the rock of the tunnel floor. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that they were not; that they were somehow disconnected, as if this were an illusion that at any moment they would snap out of to find the limitless depths of the blackness, opened and closed around them.

They had fallen at the beginning of everything, like this. It was the first thing that he could remember now, though he thought there might have been something before that.

A life, maybe, but the fall had made him forget everything. It was so long, so deep, so dark. He had fallen for so long that in the end he couldn't even remember where he had fallen from, for so long that in the end he hadn't known that there was anything else, until he had landed on the white sands of Hueco Mundo with no memory of the wholly different thing that he had been before it all, just the faint recollection that there might have been something that was important to him, at one time or another.

So long ago, but he could still remember that first landing, grounding.

The beginning of the new life.

And here, now, after an improbable line of events that he never could have imagined, he was suddenly faced with the option of a whole new life, the kind that he had never would have guessed would have been his. An option that he didn't know whether or not to take, that he would never be able to understand the full repercussions of.

A life that wasn't his, but could be.

Grimmjow let the rain fall against his face, soaking his hair until it lay back against his scalp, the water running through. The rainfall was heavy but brief; he stood on the rooftop the whole time it pelted down, until he was utterly drenched and his face was stinging with the force of the rain. People passing in the street might have taken him for deranged, had they been able to see him, but they could not.

He closed his eyes again, to see what Pantera was seeing. This time, he thought he could see a little more of the tunnel, but after a moment he realised that was because it was coming to an end. In the far, far distance he could see a prick of light, a shimmer of the outside. They didn't know what was on the other side, but as soon as they realised that they might be able to, they wanted to know. He could feel the prickle of her fur underneath his own skin as he slipped from that part of his mind again.

He stood, invisible to most, and waited for the rain to pass.

When it did he had made a decision.

There was a question that he needed to ask, and if the answer was what he wanted, then he would do it.

He would become human.

Not for himself, and not for Ichigo; not for his safety and not out of fear.

For nothing, except for the future.

* * *

_Byakuya_

_Thanks for the concern, but I'm fine. _

_I'd hate to screw with the Soul Society but trust me, I've got it under control._

_Ichigo Kuosaki_

Captain Kuchiki raised a delicate eyebrow at the hastily scrawled excuse for writing on the paper that had clearly been torn from an exercise book. Not exactly the most cultured or dignified of responses, but then, he had not expected any different from this rogue boy, the disgraceful excuse for a shinigami. Ichigo Kurosaki was a unique but common hybrid of creation, and acted accordingly. The child was a mistake, an abomination that could make all the difference in the years to come for the Soul Society, the Gotei13 and the for the order and policing of all the worlds.

And yet, though he had so much dislike for the boy, he could not help but have some concern for his well-being at the same time.

He was well aware that, if anything were to happen to him that could be blamed upon the Soul Society, a rift would form. Chances were, it could happen whilst the boy was alive regardless, but he was well aware of the damage that a dead man could do to a stable society.

There is more power in dying young to promote a cause than there is for living for it.

If only the boy could have just slunk back into the obsolete world of the humans, vanished from sight and from mind and had not started this chain of fear leading back to his indescribable and incomparable power.

If only the boy was not quite as strong as he was, then all would be well.

But then, he supposed, if Ichigo Kurosaki had not been quite so powerful, then there would not be a Gotei 13 left to be divided.

Byakuya folded the letter in half, and sighed.

There really was no answer to this.

* * *

The Soul Society exists in a world as old as ours, if not older. It is a world that watched our own fragile civilization grow with tender smiles as we struggled like a new born animal down a path very different to their own. They care for our world with the same concern and pride as a grandfather watching his first grandson take its first steps, though this is in part due to the face that, when those in our world die, they pass on to the next, populating the world, as only those of noble blood were capable of breeding in this world. They have a vested interest in our world, you might say, because of that.

It was a close link, a bond of love.

And there are many worlds out there that do not share such a bond, many worlds that the Soul Society, in all it's wisdom, are not even aware of. And still, as well as these, there are worlds that the Soul Society fight against. Worlds that, perhaps, used to be as ours is, until destruction blackened their skies and destroyed their peoples.

Worlds that are tormented.

Worlds that are full of pain.

He sat, and wondered why it was that the shinigami hated them so. All they did was try to live; what was so wrong with that?

Look now, he thought, upon the huddling masses, shinigami. Look now, on the tormented souls below you. Look at how they starve. Look at how they cower from you all, from your light. Look at us, stuck here in the darkness, never to see the sun.

Look at them.

Feel their pain.

Don't you dare forget what it is you have done to us.

The mask that covered his eyes shook slightly, as if it were shivering. The large cracks that ran through his mask seemed to widen for a moment. It was smooth, must have been flawless before the damage that had caused it to break across. It had once covered his entire face, a smooth mask without holes for eyes or mouth.

It had been broken, and the skin underneath had healed badly.

Assembled below him were thousands of creatures, stretched out over the dunes. Fights broke out between individuals here and there as some vied for dominance. There were hollows, Adjuchas and Vasto Lorde and some that were neither, there were arrancar, left over from the bloody ending of Aizen's reign, and there were many that were neither, many that were just as he was, a torn apart creature in the middle. All looked emaciated, all looked weak.

All looked ready to fight to make things right again.

An arrancar touched his shoulder, he could feel the brush of her white-blonde hair against his skin as she leant down to whisper something in his ear. He nodded, and she retreated away from him.

The creature that had once been a Vasto Lorde smiled with infinite sadness to himself as he watched his army assemble underneath him.

He steepled his hands underneath his chin, and sighed.

* * *

Jyuushiro left the letter open on his desk for a while as he tried to come up with an appropriate response. After a little while, he came to the conclusion that perhaps a response was unnecessary after all. He doubted that Ichigo was waiting for one.

And, rationally, it was probably foolish of him to allow more correspondence. He had jeopardised much with his last letter, informing Ichigo Kurosaki of what was, at the end of the day, highly classified information, and even if he thought it wise that the boy should be filled in he knew for a fact that his superiors would feel very differently about it.

But, as much as everyone else seemed to believe it, he just could not bring himself to view the Kurosaki child as a threat to the order of things.

The boy was reckless and impulsive, but he truly believed that he had a good heart. He may not owe the Gotei 13 anything specifically, but he was sure that Ichigo would not wish ill on them. After all, so many of his friends were members of the Gotei, and he knew for a fact that even though he disliked some, he held a lot of them in regard and respect at the same time.

Jyuushiro had been called naive before, had been told that he trusted too easily, and that flaw was too easily manipulated. People had joked about it a lot when he was younger, in the Academy, and had taken kids under his wing when he thought they might need a helping hand and a bit of support.

What was it that Shunsui had said to him back then? A sad back-story and a show of martyrdom and Jyuu-chan was yours for life.

He smiled to himself.

Back then, it probably was a little true.

But years, decades, centuries had passed since then and he felt that now he had some skill at judging characters by their actions and words, and he had spent a lot of time studying Ichigo. Perhaps he was biased, having known the boy's father, long ago, but he didn't think that was it.

He trusted Ichigo, there was nothing more to be said on the subject.

With a sigh and the knowledge that there was nothing left to be done, he took the letter back from his pocket, and turned it over in his hands. He took it out to read it one last time, lifting the cover off his lantern as he did so.

_Captain Ukitake,_

_No, I didn't know there were overseers of the town, but it's good to know that everything is going well. As for your questions, I have to say that I'm not sure what it might be, but the spikes being my own powers make the most sense. Your scanners probably aren't used to me yet, and I have been training a bit to keep in shape. _

_I've asked the others, they haven't seen or heard of anything. None of us knew anything about this apparent Espada- are you sure it might not just be a blip in the machinery? _

_We've noticed the increase in Hollow attacks. I don't know why that is, but it's probably nothing. _

_We're going fine, by ourselves, thanks. No help is needed over here._

_I'll let Hat-and-Clogs know._

_And, thanks, for worrying._

_Ichigo Kurosaki._

He set the corner of the letter on fire, and watched as it crumbled to ashes.

* * *

Grimmjow was sitting on the roof of Urahara's Shoten when Ichigo arrived, staring up at the overcast sky. He did not look concerned, or deep in thought; at the moment that Ichigo caught sight of him, he appeared to be dazed, just looking up at the sky as if he had never seen it before. Ichigo stared at him for a moment.

Because really, it just wasn't as simple as all that, was it? He could sit there and think of all the ways that it was the right choice, to turn Grimmjow into a human, that it made sense in every way to take Urahara up on his offer.

He could justify it in his head in every way that he wanted to but no matter what he said, it just didn't work.

It didn't ring true.

He didn't believe himself.

Because, if they changed Grimmjow into a human, if they made him into what he was not, then he wouldn't be Grimmjow any more.

He wouldn't be the same person that Ichigo had met, and fought, and fallen in love with.

It would change everything.

He bit his lip as he watched Grimmjow shake his head, as if to clear a stray thought. He caught sight of Ichigo from his vantage point, and came down from the rooftop with easy strides through the air, hands in pockets and his head turned to the side, stooped a little. There was a hint of a smile around his jaw, but Ichigo couldn't work out just what it meant.

They drew level in the street, and Ichigo reached out a hand to grab a hold of his shoulder, pulling him closer. They looked at each other eye to eye, without words, until Grimmjow blinked and his expression changed. Ichigo bit his lip once more, but nodded as the other man's eyes seemed to tell him that it was okay, that he had everything under control, that there was nothing to worry about any more.

Ichigo didn't believe that was the case, but he trusted the former-Espada.

Urahara met them in the shop in silence and without a smile, waiting for one of them to speak. He had known that they would only come once they had made a decision about what to do. They were not the type to want to talk things over; they would come up with the answer by themselves.

It was Grimmjow who spoke first.

He could feel Pantera drawing closer to the end of the tunnel. He still didn't know what he would see there. The light that had once been so hopeful now seemed to blind him. He could feel Pantera shivering in his mind as if from a cold wind, but she didn't know what the cold was. Neither did he, unless you could count that feeling he used to have inside himself, like something painful was wrapped around his lungs, making it hard to breath. He hadn't felt like that since Ichigo had looked at him and stroked his head with something close to affection, that time in the alley way, when the great, domed head of his Adjuchas form had been so full of confusion and questions.

He had a feeling that pain had been cold; because nothing seemed as close to what he thought warm might be as when he was wrapped up in Ichigo's arms, and nothing seemed further than pain when he was there.

Pantera made a noise in the back of her throat as she pushed closer to the end. It seemed so much more difficult now. He could feel the pain that she was feeling, and tried not to show it.

"If I do this, will I lose Pantera?"

Ichigo blinked. He hadn't even thought of that, it hadn't crossed his mind. If Grimmjow turned into a human then surely he would; after all, Ichigo's own zanpakuto had come in something of a unique circumstance. The humans he knew with powers didn't have zanpakuto.

"I don't just mean the blade. Will I lose her voice in my mind, as well?"

How would it be, to lose Zangetsu? Now, after all this time together and after all of them moments that the sword had helped him through, how could he cope without that reassurance that his most loyal of friends was there with him? Zangetsu was a part of himself; it was inconceivable as losing an arm or a lung; life was just unimaginable.

As impossible for Ichigo to imagine as a Grimmjow that wasn't Grimmjow; as a lover different to how he was right now.

Urahara looked at Grimmjow under the brim of his hat. It was a surprisingly direct look, without any hidden meanings.

"You'll lose your zanpakuto, Grimmjow."

A silence settled over the three of them, thick and heavy. Grimmjow was unable to hide the conflict going on inside himself; Ichigo's fists were already clenched tight. Urahara watched the two of them without expression, waiting to see what they would decide upon.

"I can't let you do this, Grimmjow."

The former-Espada looked at him in silence, before rubbing his forehead with his hand briskly, breaking the tense atmosphere. He looked back up at Ichigo, smiling just a little. There was grief in his eyes.

"I can't let myself, either."

Urahara allowed himself a smile, at the two of them. In all honesty, he was glad that they had made that choice. He watched Grimmjow's expression flicker between so many emotions, his fist tightening around Ichigo's wrist.

"It would be like killing her."

Ichigo rested his hand on Grimmjow's chest.

"We'll find another way. There'll be something else we can do, to make it work."

Grimmjow rested his chin on top of Ichigo's head, the frown line between his brows deepening.

"I don't know if there is anything else, Ichigo."

* * *

They walked home slowly, hand in hand and in silence. Both of them were unsure of what to say, the gravity of the decision that they had made seizing their tongues and making them mute. They would not look at each other or away; their eyes were fixed firmly on the way in front of them. They separated at the end of Ichigo's road, Grimmjow leaving to take his normal route over rooftops to slide into Ichigo's bedroom window whilst Ichigo himself took the more conventional way through his front door to let his family know that he was back.

They took in his tired expression and greeted him in their normal way. He waved at his sisters and delivered his father a well-aimed punch to the head and left to go upstairs. Yuzu smiled to herself as the three of them carefully ignored the rasp of Ichigo's window, that really did need oiling.

Bless him, he thought that they didn't notice that, despite the exhaustion lining his eyes, he looked relieved as well.

Grimmjow was already lying on his bed when he made it to his room, and he stripped off his own clothes without saying a word, slipping into bed next to him. He hadn't even bothered to turn the light on for the brief moments before the mattress met his body, and he sighed to himself in the warm room.

They lay back to back for a moment, before they felt in each other that the other was about to move and rolled at the same time to face each other, finding each other's bodies in the dark, touching with the intimacy that can only be achieved when a couple knows each other's bodies inside and out. They said nothing to each other, and made very little noise, but the touch of their skin was enough to say everything that needed to be said.

Every sentiment was given with fingertips, every word of love and confusion gifted with teeth. Grimmjow stroked a line down Ichigo's torso and they moved together, slowly now, almost lethargic as they took in the scent and taste of each other's skin, trying to remember every single part of it. It was as if they were due to battle the next day; they drank each other in as if they would not live to see another night together, so much relief tied together with remorse that, when they finally drifted to sleep, it was clinging to each other, as if afraid they might lose their anchor in the night.

The last thing Ichigo could remember was the sound of Grimmjow's voice, coming to him as from a long way away.

"You asked me one if I had a home, d'you remember? When you came to find me, in Las Noches, and I told you that my home was everywhere and nowhere."

There was a pause; the air felt warm, and for a moment Grimmjow thought that Ichigo was going to wake.

"I was lying. I know where it is."

* * *

Whilst they slept, Pantera slipped from the rocky outcrop of the end of the tunnel to find herself looking on a sunrise, for the first time in her existential life. In the beginning, when she had first woken in the metaphysical plains of Grimmjow's consciousness, there had been only the moon, the white sands, the shallow rivers of blood that had never seemed to lead anywhere but back to where she had started from, in infuriating circles.

Then, the change had come, and mountains had appeared. There had been a sun there, but hidden behind the outcrops of rock and the peaks of the hills. There had been many new things to see, but all in the shade of that hidden sunlight. There had been clean water, a ground that had not been sand, a whole new world.

But all that seemed inconsequential now, as she looked out on the rising light. All this time, she realised, the sun had not been hiding; it had been waiting for them to find it. Already she could see that it was moving up the horizon, accelerating when it had been static when she first looked at it.

It was here.

She felt the sunlight against her body and a deep rumble of contentment rolled from her chest. The world underneath her was the one that she knew, as if the other side of the tunnel had been mirrored here, but all was bathed in the golden light from the sun, rather than the blue-grey shade on the other side.

_Look, Grimmjow_, she thought.

_Look at what we have now. _

* * *

Aizen used to like to talk to them, back before the war and the end of the order. He used to speak of gods and spirits, the forces of nature. He had once spoken, when they were alone in the room together, about Ka-moho-aliʻi, a human god of a small belief system that took the form of creatures of the sea, to guide ships back home to port when they were lost out on the waves. The same people believed in men who could switch between the body of a shark and the body of a man. They would warn people not to swim in the ocean, and when people didn't listen to him, he would turn into a shark and devour the fools who were in the water, despite his warnings.

It had taken a while for what he was really saying to sink in.

There was another shark-god, who was believed to protect fishermen from dangers at sea. What was he called? Dakuwaqa, that was it.

There were many others, as well, from cultures who had become extinct and from worlds other than that of the humans, where sharks were the eaters of lost souls and the finders of the pearls that sustained life, bringing them to the surface for those who need saving.

Careful watchmen of the waters deep.

Aizen had told these stories with a smile, as if remembering a time from long ago.

The point of it all, he said, was fear.

Primal fear.

That was what must not be forgotten, he preached, high up there from his pulpit of white marble, lounging on his self-appointed throne, teaching his disciples the way of the world as if they did not know how to live without his tutelage. Man will always be afraid of what they cannot conquer, even if it cannot reach them on land. Man will always be wary of that which it does not understand. Man will always try and pretend that it is the one in charge, even when everyone knows that it is not.

That is why they make sharks helpful gods, even if they are violent as well.

That way, they can pretend that they are not afraid any more.

The shark was the hunter, the most deadly of all creatures.

But right now those stories only served to increase the fear building up inside the heart of one who had never felt fear, until now. It only made that sense of falling all the worse, because it suddenly had become very clear that just because man has no control over the shark, that does not mean that the shark itself, for all of its power and strength, had any control either.

The shark was lost and wounded in a sea of white sand, with nowhere to go and the presence of those which it was escaping close behind. They were drawing nearer, in the way that sharks themselves do when they sense blood in the water. Just like that, now, they were closing in, tasting weakness in the air.

They knew they were getting closer.

The stories that Aizen had built up were falling apart. It was becoming obvious that, despite all valiant attempts, his regime was done for. There was no power left to defend those left behind, even in themselves. Wounded, bleeding, weakened, every movement was agony, every second a lifetime in which she wondered, why?

And now, at the end of it all, Hallibel had come to realise that perhaps it was not her who was the hunter after all.


	9. Eight

This chapter is rather longer than usual. Should I apologise for that?

**Chapter Eight**

_If you wish to be brothers, drop your weapons_. - Pope John Paul II

Grimmjow slid in through the window of Ichigo's bedroom to a rather enjoyable sight. Though it was midday, his lover appeared to be stretched out, sound asleep on the bed, on top of the covers, completely naked. He took in a good eyeful before he reached down to try and wake him up. To his surprise though, it sort of sounded like Ichigo was moaning, quietly, as if he were in great amounts of pain.

"Oi, what's up?"

He shook him by the shoulder but nothing was forthcoming; in the end, he simply rolled his lover over. The body was pliable in his hands, and Ichigo moved without any resistance. He frowned. Something wasn't right.

"Hey, talk to me."

Ichigo groaned, louder this time, and screwed up his eyes. Grimmjow noticed the large bruise that was just forming around one of his eyes. What the hell had he been doing? He hadn't been in any fights with hollows recently that had been serious enough to leave marks on his physical body; Grimmjow would have been able to sense the spiritual power.

"Ichigo!"

"Oh, such beautiful women…"

Grimmjow stilled in complete surprise at Ichigo's mumblings. Women? What the hell had women got to do with anything? A spark of jealously stirred in his chest. What was Ichigo doing talking about women, anyway?

"So beautiful…"

Eyes still screwed shut, Ichigo reached out and grabbed hold of Grimmjow's arm, cuddling it like it was some sort of comforter. Despite many attempts to detach himself, Ichigo clung on, limpet-like, unmoveable. Grimmjow could hear someone coming up the stairs and swore to himself. What the hell was wrong with Ichigo?

As if sensing that he was being thought about, Ichigo pressed his lips into a grotesque looking pout and started kissing Grimmjow's forearm.

"Oh, Rukia…"

A twitch started to form on Grimmjow's jaw. He had_ not_ come here for this sort of crap.

"Mountainous ladies…"

He was sure he was going to regret it later, but unable to hold his temper anymore, he swung his free arm around to smack Ichigo firmly in the jaw, satisfying his irritation and appreciating the added bonus of knocking Ichigo off his arm and back onto his pillow, where he commenced moaning again. Now there was a large red mark on Ichigo's jaw that promised to bruise up splendidly, to match his eye. Grimmjow looked down on him, frowning, not noticing the figure coming through the window until he spoke.

"Oh lord, what has that idiot done to me now?"

Grimmjow turned, and saw Ichigo.

And was quite confused.

Not having ever seen Ichigo's body when Ichigo wasn't in it- normally, when Ichigo was out fighting things Grimmjow tended to be nearby, and back in the bad old days he would have been the one fighting with him. The whole issue of Kon, therefore, had never quite come up. Ichigo had mentioned his name, but never really explained, and Grimmjow had always lumped the name in the 'stupid people I don't want to know about' category, along with that Keigo kid.

Ichigo smiled at him.

"Hey, Chad was getting a bit overwhelmed by numbers tonight, so I went to give him a hand."

"The hell is wrong with your body?"

Ichigo blinked for a moment, and then realised what Grimmjow was talking about.

"Oh, so you've met Kon."

Grimmjow raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Long lost twin, or a clone?"

Ichigo shot him a withering look as he stretched his arms.

"He's a MOD soul that looks after my body when I'm out of it. Urahara came up with them. You know, in case I have to change in the middle of a street, I can't just leave my body lying on the pavement, can I?"

Grimmjow shrugged, neither a yes or a no, and jumped out of the window. Ichigo blinked after him, but only for half a second as right away Yuzu opened his bedroom door, with a glass of water and some painkillers. She had her nurse uniform on still, as she had only just come off shift. It looked like his dad must have been overwhelmed tonight.

"Now then, this ought to help, but you know Kon, you really need to stop trying to touch Karin inappropriately. She really doesn't like it, you do look like our brother after all. It's a little bit strange."

She stopped, and squinted at where Ichigo was.

"Ichi-nii? Is that you?"

Ichigo blinked, a little confused and very lost for words. He hadn't known that Yuzu could see anything spiritual, or that his sisters knew about Kon, though he supposed in hindsight that it was quite obvious that it wasn't him.

Wait. Kon had been… touching his sister with Ichigo's own hands? Eww. He rubbed the palms of his hands against his thighs subconsciously as he stared at Yuzu, frowning.

"You can see me?"

Yuzu smiled as she dropped the painkillers with great precision and with no apparent regard for choking in Kon's open mouth. He swallowed them, peeking out of one half-open eye, seemingly much more awake now a pretty girl was in the room. He was quite interested to see how this conversation would bear out. Ichigo eyed him suspiciously as Yuzu smiled at her older brother, not seeming concerned that she had just completely shaken his world.

"Sort of. I'm not very good, but I've been practising. I can't really see hollows, not like you and Karin can. You're a bit blurry, and so are most shinigami that I see, but I can tell that it's you because of your hair. I don't know why I can't see shinigami properly; it's funny, really, because I can see Jaegerjaquez-san very clearly."

She ignored the way that Ichigo's mouth flopped open.

"Hold on, you _know _Grimmjow?"

Yuzu put a finger to her mouth, as if thinking.

"I wouldn't say that I know him, but I have met him. He seems very nice, Ichi-nii."

Ichigo was a little lost for words.

"Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Sorry about what Karin did to your body, but really, Kon does go too far sometimes. I'll have to put him back in the washing machine when he's a teddy again, to tell him off. He really doesn't like it when I do that to him, you know. Anyway, I'll bring you some dinner up later, okay? Have fun!"

She backed out of the room, leaving Ichigo all the more confused. He scratched his head, not sure what to think of this newest revelation about his extraordinary family. It had been hard enough when Karin had started manifesting some serious powers a few months back, but Yuzu was a whole other thing. He didn't think of her as strong in the same way that he did Karin. She was soft, she couldn't fight. She had always had Karin to protect her from bullies in school.

She had always been looked after, though he supposed, when he thought about it, she had spent most of her time in the last few years looking after them.

She ran the household and made sure their father paid the bills on time, she patched up Karin when she came home battered from the football pitch. She was the one who made Isshin a hot drink and quietly spoke to him on those nights where he couldn't close the surgery until late, after a horrible day of people being brought in on stretchers in from local accidents when they were too weak to be taken to the main hospital. For that matter, she was the one who sat at people's bedsides when the surgery was understaffed, who spoke to the victims of domestic abuse and street violence who came in shock with broken noses and cracked ribs. She was the one that left plates of food out for Ichigo, who never asked him where he was when he was out late, who never seemed to be upset or confused.

Maybe she didn't need looking after quite as much as he thought.

When had his little sister become the most mature person in their house? She didn't go out to save the world, she couldn't fight in great battles like her brother, sister and father, but she did everything else that a normal human could do in a human life.

She was the mother that the house didn't have any more.

How had he never noticed that?

Acting on autopilot, thinking of this all the while, Ichigo ejected the pill out of his body and stuffed it back into Kon's body, discarded by his bed. He locked Kon in his wardrobe before he would have to listen to any of his complaints, which was by now quite nicely soundproofed from the inside by a lot of blankets, to keep the stuffed toy off his mind. He slipped into his own body as Grimmjow came back into the room.

"You never said that you met Yuzu."

Grimmjow shrugged.

"It was a while back, not long after I first turned back into me. I didn't mention it because you would have freaked out."

Ichigo nodded. It was true, after all, and he was too tired and confused to make a big deal out of it. It couldn't have gone too badly, not if Yuzu had said that she liked it. He lay down on the bed with a sigh.

"I really didn't know that Yuzu was so shrewd, you know. She always comes across as so innocent, but she knows so much without saying anything."

"I could have told you that."

Grimmjow sat down next to him in the silence that followed, Ichigo still trying to process the fact that what he had thought was a great secret really wasn't so well hidden after all. He couldn't believe that they had all known about Grimmjow already. 3Honestly, if only his family would just tell him when they found things out, it wouldn't make him look like so much of a fool all of the time.

Grimmjow scratched the back of his head, a question on his mind.

"Ichigo?"

"Yeah?"

"What's a 'mountainous lady'?"

* * *

"Grimmjow, I don't think this is a good idea."

"So you keep saying."

"Yeah, but I really, _really_ don't think that this is the sensible thing to do, you know."

_Shut ya mouth, King, no one cares what you think._

"I know, Ichigo, but this is what that Urahara friend of yours is telling us to do, and a much as he is a complete nutcase, he does seem to know what he is talking about."

Ichigo stopped in the street, looking inquisitively at Grimmjow, trying to beat down his grin. Grimmjow took a couple of steps further on down the road, before noticing and stopping to turn, raising his eyebrow at Ichigo's expression.

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, is that respect you're showing?"

The former Espada rolled his eyes.

"You're as damn stupid as that stuffed lion of yours. Now come on. I've got to go get yelled at by these warehouse dwelling weirdos."

"How do you know that you're going to get yelled at?"

"Ichigo, I always get yelled at."

He didn't argue with that logic. He couldn't, really; it was quite true. Everyone always seemed to have a prejudice against Grimmjow in one way or another. He supposed that was what happened in war.

_Stop being so pretentious, King, and get on with it._

If Ichigo could have glared at the inside of his own head he would have done. His hollow seemed very restless today, as he always did when he knew that there was a chance to come out and play. He could already feel the pull of the Vizard's similar energy. Even though their Karakura hideout was well sheltered and fully shielded, he could still feel the pull of their hollow-sides, calling out to him, welcoming him home, inviting him to have some fun.

He liked it. In fact, he'd missed it.

They reached the warehouse soon enough, and Ichigo pushed open the huge doors without knock or announcement. There was no need; he was well aware that they would have already noted his arrival and prepared accordingly.

There was no one waiting for them inside, and the place had a more abandoned feel to it than usual. Ichigo hadn't noticed the last time that he was here, but there was a distinct feeling of emptiness about the place, as if the inhabitants hadn't been around a lot recently. He didn't know why that surprised him; he knew for a fact that they had been spending more time away, finally exploring the world after a century of living in hiding, waiting for the day they could get their revenge. He supposed that he just always imagined them _here_, the same way he could not imagine Urahara living anywhere other than his dusty and odd shop with his patchwork family.

Grimmjow looked around, sneering a little, a natural reaction to combat his uneasiness.

"Not much to look at, is it?"

Ichigo shrugged and nodded, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, and lead them over to the trapdoor, which was open. Grimmjow blinked at it. He hadn't even noticed it was there until Ichigo had taken the first step downwards; he wondered if that was an intentional shielding, to stop curious passers by wandering in on them. He took his first step down through the trapdoor, knowing that it was only going to go downhill from that point on.

They took the steps slowly, Grimmjow taking in everything that he could see. It looked a lot like Urahara's training facility, and he wondered if Urahara had made it for them as well. Ichigo hadn't really said much about it all.

They reached the bottom of the steps, still without having seen anyone. Ichigo seemed confused by this, but Grimmjow couldn't say that he wasn't surprised. He didn't even flinch when the Vizards materialised out of thin air, clearly haven been behind some sort of shielding that had been so well hidden that Grimmjow had only felt the slightest tremble of it in the air. He had been looking for it though, had been expecting such a trick; he knew that Ichigo had not been.

Their zanpakuto were all drawn, all pointed at his own body, so close to his skin that the slightest move would have drawn blood. Ichigo yelled his protest, but no one even looked at him.

He stood perfectly still, and closed his eyes.

He really wasn't so stupid to think that he would be able to walk in here without any reaction. He hadn't even tried to shield as they had approached the warehouse; in a way, he felt he owed them that. These were people that he had never met, but they were still, in their own way, like him.

Like two sides of a coin, they were the same but different. They were shinigami infused with hollow; he was hollow infused with shinigami. They were both the results of Aizen's experimentations, both the end product of a mad man's plan. Their mutual enemy was dead; the other side was against them. He did not listen to Ichigo as he started yelling, first in shock and anger and then as he tried to reason to them, tried to explain.

The swords moved closer. Seven points of steel pricked his skin. He could feel a bead of blood fall down his skin from the one at his chest.

He was not afraid.

Grimmjow knew that if he could see the logic in it, then so could they.

And the Vizards, for everything else that they were, for all the bitterness they bore, were loyal to their own.

Ichigo was starting to sound annoyed. Not one of the Vizards had even seemed to acknowledge his presence, just stood their ground around the former-Espada, blades firm and faces blank. The only consolation at the moment was that no one had actually run Grimmjow through yet, and Ichigo really couldn't find much comfort in that. He could feel the anger growing inside of him as the eight stood in perfect stillness, seven zanpakuto catching the light. Grimmjow hadn't even reacted, as if he had expected all of this.

Ichigo didn't know what to do.

After a moment, Grimmjow opened his eyes, staring into the distance.

"Whatever reasons you have for hating me, you can't deny the fact that we're the same."

Their expressions did not flicker, and no one responded, but there was a sudden air of resignation around the tall Vizard whose zanpakuto was at his throat, his shoulders sinking a little as his zanpakuto moved a little away. His hair was silver, a large tattoo on his chest partially blocked out by the arm of another Vizard. Grimmjow could make out a six though. He wondered if the Vizard had seen his own six, on his back.

"Kensei, what the hell are you doing?"

The question came from the blonde male that Grimmjow remembered from when he had invaded Karakura with his fraccion, who was kneeling to the side of him with his zanpakuto pressed against Grimmjow's Achilles tendon, ready to cut through it in a moment. The silver-haired Vizard, called Kensei apparently, ignored the question, staring only at the former Espada before him.

"We are not the same, Arrancar. Do you know why that is?"

Grimmjow did not say anything, nor did he shake his head. He simply continued staring at the Vizard, who was now earning looks from his own comrades. Ichigo seemed confused at what was going on, but said nothing. He had never seen Grimmjow quite so calm. There was something imposing about him, something authoritative that Ichigo had never been witness to before.

Kensei sighed, heavily, and withdrew his zanpakuto.

"The difference, Arrancar, is that Aizen gave you a choice."

"And so you would kill me, for trying to become stronger?"

Slowly, another sword was pulled away, this time from his back. The Vizard came and stood besides Kensei, staring at him through shaded glasses. After a moment another pulled his zanpakuto away from where it had been resting against his right hand kidney and took a step back, tossing long hair over his shoulders. This man caught his eye, and shook his head slowly.

"Why did you want to become stronger, Arrancar?"

A smile seemed to flicker at the corner of Grimmjow's mouth.

"To become stronger than the next person in front of me, in the end. The same reason that anyone does."

The dark haired woman took a step back from him, but she would not look at him. She turned her back on the group, staring instead at Ichigo, who looked blankly back. He did not know what she wanted, or what the question burning in her eyes was. If he had been a little better at reading people he would have known that it was _can we trust you, with him?_ He was distracted from her when Rose shook his head slowly, and answered Grimmjow.

"And what happens when you are stronger than that person in front of you, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez?"

"There is always another person stronger than you are, Vizard. It doesn't end."

The blonde man sighed, and rose from his knees. He laced his hands behind his head and smiled a long, sardonic grin at him. He had strange teeth, Grimmjow noticed. His smile reminded him of Jiruga.

"So, Mister Sexta, who is the person in front of you now?"

There were only two zanpakuto on him now, one of which was the one on his chest. A few drops of his blood had run down the line of the blade, though it had not pressed hard enough to cause any significant bleeding. It was being held by a scornful looking girl with blonde hair, who looked much younger than she was. The other was behind him, but he could already feel that the Vizard he could not see was wavering in their conviction.

He locked gazes with the smug looking Vizard who had asked the question.

"That's nothing to do with you, Vizard."

There was a moment of deep silence before the Vizard burst out laughing, rubbing at his forehead. Ichigo seemed to relax a little at this, hoping this whole tension was over. He felt rather like a spare part in all of this; he had expected to have to do all of the talking to win over the Vizards, but in the end he had done nothing. Only Hiyori still had her zanpakuto drawn; at Shinji's laugh, Mashiro had pulled back. He exchanged a friendly glance with Hachi, who had materialized next to him. It had clearly been his powerful kido abilities that had kept the Vizard hidden to the last minute.

Shinji had stopped laughing now, and nodded at Grimmjow.

"Fair enough. But my name is Shinji, not Vizard."

"And my name isn't Arrancar."

Hiyori glared up at Grimmjow, but slowly pulled back her own zanpakuto, even though she was clearly not convinced.

"As far as I'm concerned, you're nothing more than Arrancar."

Grimmjow shrugged.

"You're just a Vizard to me."

Hiyori's glare deepened, clearly unhappy that Grimmjow did not seem to care about her obvious and public rejection of him. Her eyes narrowed, and she turned on her heel, arms crossed.

"I don't trust you, remember that."

She shunpo'd away, glare still on her face. Ichigo watched her go with a frown, but the other Vizards did not appear to be concerned that she had not accepted Grimmjow's place in the mash-up that was Karakura's powerful residents. Shinji, in fact, seemed to be rolling his eyes after her. He supposed that she struggled to warm to people. Maybe she was always like that; the other Vizard certainly did not seem surprised by her reaction.

Finally, after what had seemed like hours but was only minutes, Grimmjow turned to look at Ichigo, warmth in his eyes. It immediately eased the knot of tension in his chest. He suddenly became aware that Shinji was watching him with a strange look. It was Rose that spoke to him first though, with a faintly sheepish tone.

"Ichigo, I have to admit to you- we knew about Grimmjow before you came here and told us."

Grimmjow looked at Ichigo out of the corner of his eye. His expression suggested that he rather wanted to sit down at hide under a cushion until the day passed fully. He supposed that Ichigo had been subject to rather a few to many confusing revelations in the last few hours. Ichigo rubbed a hand across his eyes and sighed.

"How did you know?"

"Urahara told us."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. Of course he did.

"Then why the hell did you all react the way that you did when I came down here to tell you? If you all knew already, then why the silence and the anger? Do you know how bad I have been feeling about all this?"

To everyone's surprise, it was Hachi who responded to Ichigo's irritated response, stepping forward in a way that he would not normally have done. At least had the decency to look a little embarrassed, Ichigo thought.

"In all honesty, I feel that many of us did not believe that it was true. To Jaegerjaquez-san's credit, he is very talented at concealing his presence, and we have never, before today, been able to locate his presence long enough to see him. it would not have been the first time that Urahara has given us misleading information with an ulterior motive, and we are well aware that you are in training with him at the moment. There was a part of me that wondered if it was in some way a plan to make us react differently to you."

_King, something's happening._

Ichigo rolled his eyes at the familiar voice of his hollow.

"Why would he do that?"

He spoke into his own mind. Shut up, would you?

Hachi shrugged, frowning. He seemed suddenly distracted.

_Seriously, can you feel that? King!_

Zangetsu's voice echoed around his head, sounding worried, almost panicked.

_Ichigo, something is happening!_

He felt uneasy, his ability to sense spiritual powers dampened by the shielding around the Vizard's hide out.

"Can you guys all feel that?"

They were all distracted by the feeling in the air, their attention switched to Grimmjow as he went deathly pale at a sensation that he had not felt in such a long time.

It took him back to another life, to another world.

Grimmjow felt as if he were being pulled towards the disturbance, something deep within him responding to the clashing energy, the tensions of power that he had, though he would not have admitted it, missed. It was Hueco Mundo, it was hunger, it was so different to the feeling of shinigami and humans fighting. Pantera screamed inside his head, digging her claws into sand as she remembered the feel of Las Noches.

"It's an Espada. And it's close."

* * *

They made it to the source of the disturbance in time to see the body fall from the sky.

They had sped towards it as quick as it was possible to move, past the outskirts of Karakura into the open countryside, all the while watching the sky. It had turned dark, almost an indigo colour. There were no clouds to scar the sky as it began to ripple, like water disturbed. Thin lines began to spread through the ripples, like darting spider webs, or the first frost, just before the sky tore open, as if it had been cleaved in two by the blade of a god.

It was only as they were close enough to see the blonde hair of the body streaming out behind her that Grimmjow's belief was proven true.

She fell, seemingly unconscious.

From the torn hole in the sky, there was a scream, like that of an animal that had lost its prey. Long, clawed hands tried to force their way through the gap, widening it to try and fit the writhing mass of bodies through. It was only their sheer number that stopped them from spilling over; they pressed against each other and had unintentionally created a wall. The Vizards arrived before any of them managed to get through, but they retreated rapidly at the sight of drawn zanpakuto, clearly not eager to engage in battle.

The body landed, with a crash, as Ichigo and Grimmjow landed, just a little too late to catch her destroyed body.

She was slumped half off, half on a country road, her legs slumped down in a ditch, tangled in long weeds. To their surprise, her eyes were open when they found her. She looked straight at Grimmjow, and coughed. It sounded thick, as if her throat were full of blood, slurred, as if she could not control her own tongue.

"Have you come to kill me, Sexta?"

He shook his head, slowly.

"Not today."

She closed her eyes, and slipped into unconsciousness.

They carried her back to Urahara's. Though the Vizards offered to help, Grimmjow would not let any of them lift her. He carried her weight on his back, in silence, a frown creasing his forehead. Not even Ichigo could tell what he was thinking. They left her under the supervision of Urahara as they waited for Inoue to arrive, hoping. Her body was a devastation of wounds; new scar tissue building over old, fresh wounds given by claws and teeth. One arm was broken, her ribs shattered, jaw dislocated. She had been half torn apart by the hollows, before she had managed to break through into their world.

It was hours before she woke, hours again before Inoue gave them the green light to talk to her. Orihime was exhausted by the time she was finished; she had healed people from the brink of death before, but the extent of her injuries, and the depth of some of them, were intimidating.

Finally she let them come through to her. She was lying on her back still, her clothes ripped and bloody but her skin healed again. The high collar she wore to hide the bone of her jaw was shredded, but Ichigo was surprised about how little it unsettled him; perhaps he had grown so used to Grimmjow's own jawbone that he no longer noticed it.

Hallibel had a hand on her stomach, where a gaping wound had been only hours before.

She stared at them through narrowed eyes, saying nothing. Grimmjow stared back, expression blank as he started talking.

"Why were those hollows after you?"

She sighed, and looked away.

"Because I escaped from them."

Ichigo blinked, in shock. He had not known what he was expecting, but it hadn't been that.

"They captured you? Why?"

"They're starving."

Grimmjow had to roll his own eyes as Ichigo's mouth dropped open in shock, his eyes widening and the obvious going through his head quite noticeably. He was tempted to stop Ichigo before he said it, he really was, but it was out of his mouth before he had a chance to.

"They were going to _eat_ you?"

Hallibel gave him a withering look.

"Not me, you cretin. My spiritual power."

"How do they do that?"

She didn't even look at Ichigo, just stared up at the ceiling blankly. Grimmjow shook his head; now it made sense.

"It's killing you. That's why you're so weak. You're completely drained."

He had been wondering how the hollow army- because he was convinced that it had been them- had been able to overpower Hallibel so completely, when she was strong enough to wipe them out with a single attack. How had they been able to take her by surprise so totally? Hallibel said nothing for the longest of moments, and when she did it was in the most casual of tones that she might have been commenting on the weather.

"They found the cage, in the ruins."

"What the hell is the cage?"

Ichigo looked between the two, feeling out of the loop. He had a mental image of a dog cage, but had a feeling that it wasn't the case. Grimmjow frowned, as if remembering something that he had forgotten about.

"Aizen invented it. I don't know how it works, but it leaves you with no control of your own power. He put us in there sometimes when we… misbehaved."

Ichigo frowned, not knowing how to respond to that. Grimmjow's life as an arrancar was still so much of a mystery to him, something that he never wanted to talk about, probably for a good reason. Conversations about Aizen's regime would inevitably lead to moments like these, awkward comments about something horrific that Ichigo would not know how to respond to. The three of them fell into silence. After a moment, Hallibel turned her head, and watched Grimmjow. She took in the way he sat, with an ease that she had never seen in him before, the fact that he was here, with Kurosaki, the whole strange situation. She hadn't even known that he was still alive and yet here he was, sat with the enemy.

"I thought you were dead."

Grimmjow shrugged.

"So did a lot of people."

She turned away again, not willing to look at him anymore. Just the thought of him hurt.

"I'm envious of you, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Why is that?"

"There is no despair in your eyes. All I have seen in those from our world for the longest of times is desperation, and yet here you are, you've escaped. Our world is in ruins and yet you seem happy. I do not understand how that is so, how there is no pain in you like there is in I."

Ichigo glanced over at Grimmjow, wondering if that was true. Was there really so much sadness in Hallibel's world? He had never even cast a thought to what her life had been like since the fall of Las Noches, not really. He wanted to ask her more, but she had already moved on.

"Are you still seeking power, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez?"

He frowned. Why did people seem so interested in this at the moment?

"Why?"

"You used to say that you would become the strongest creature in our world."

"So what?"

Hallibel sat up. It took her a moment to do so, but neither Ichigo nor Grimmjow offered to help her. Though she had been physically healed by Inoue there was no way to replace the complete lack of spiritual power within her. She was extremely weak. Grimmjow doubted if she'd even be able to draw her zanpakuto without dropping it. When she had managed to sit up she turned to look at him, and her voice had become stronger.

"There is nothing great in being the strongest, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. There is no reward but the hatred of others. You gain nothing but fear."

Perhaps that is why the Primera always looked so sad, she couldn't help but think. Perhaps that was why he had always looked so alone; because he had reached the top and had found that there was nothing there but a plateau, nothing but emptiness.

"What are you talking about?"

"What I'm talking about, Sexta, is end of the Espada. What I'm talking about is the end of our world. I'm trying to tell you that you seem to be happy, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, and if in your useless life you do one thing that is not foolish then you give up that goal that you've nurtured in anger, because now I am the strongest thing left in Hueco Mundo, and I can tell you, there is no worth to that position. You will find nothing but heartbreak here."

"You're still a lot stronger than I am."

"Don't lose what you have trying to become what I am. Don't sacrifice your happiness for strength, Sexta. There would be no greater tragedy in the world."

She got to her feet, slowly. She had never felt so wasted, but at least now she was in no pain. She didn't understand what the power that girl possessed, but it was a great one indeed. With a gesture that could have been mistaken for languorous if you had not known her state, she opened a gap between the worlds, right then and there in the back room of the Shoten.

"You can't go back to Hueco Mundo! They'll find you again!"

For the first time, she met Ichigo's eye, and saw nothing but concern there. She couldn't help but feel a little grateful for that; here, at the end of her strength, there was someone who should hate her, who wished her well.

"There are many worlds out there, Ichigo Kurosaki. This is but one of them."

Saying nothing else, she stepped through, and sealed the way behind her. Ichigo glanced over at Grimmjow, not sure what to do.

"Should we let her go like this?"

Grimmjow shrugged.

"She can handle herself."

He nodded, but couldn't shake the uneasiness that he was feeling. It wasn't just him, either; he could feel apprehension emanating out of his hollow. It was a bizarre feeling to have coming out of such a normally malicious creature, but he was sure it was genuine; Zangetsu seemed worried, as well. He posed the question to the both of them, asking what was wrong and what was making them so agitated. It was a moment before an answer was forthcoming, the hollow's normally mocking voice subdued.

_King, it's pouring down in her soul._

What do you mean?

_We could feel it, even though her soul didn't reach out to us. We could hear it. It's screaming._

Why?

There was silence in his mind, and he had the feeling that his hollow had turned away. He was just about to ask again when Zangetsu spoke, his voice quiet, grim.

_It's drowning. It knows it's not going to last much longer._

* * *

Grimmjow met him at the top of the road as he was walking back from school, lost in thought and wondering what there was to be done about Hallibel, the Gotei 13, and the rest of it all. When Grimmjow caught sight of Ichigo he came up to him and kissed him, an unusual display of affection that caught Ichigo off guard, though he kissed back with enthusiasm when he got over this rather pleasant surprise. He hadn't expected Grimmjow to be in such a good mood after everything that had happened recently, but he wasn't complaining.

"You okay?"

Grimmjow nodded, and kissed him again, quickly.

"Meet you upstairs?"

He made off through the air without waiting for an answer from Ichigo. He felt good today, rested for the first time in a long while, like the morning after a deep, long sleep when you haven't slept well for a few days. Everything felt a little fresher this afternoon, the sun on his skin a pleasant sensation. He slipped through the bedroom window with a smile.

Ichigo spent a bit longer downstairs than he normally would have done, and when he came upstairs he was chewing his lip, something that Grimmjow had come to notice that he normally did only when he was worried. He had an envelope in his hands, turning it over and over. It had nothing written on it but his initials, no address or stamp. Grimmjow looked up, and frowned and the nervousness on Ichigo's face.

"What's that?"

Ichigo exhaled and did not answer straight away.

"My Dad said someone came around and dropped it off earlier. He didn't know who it was but apparently he was shinigami. He could tell because of his rietsu, apparently, even though he was in a gigai. Dad said he seemed in a huge hurry."

Grimmjow nodded. He understood the significance of the letter now.

"Well? Are you going to open it?"

Ichigo took a deep breath and slid his finger underneath the envelope lid, pulling it open. There was only one reason he would be getting a letter from some anonymous person from the Soul Society. He had been dreading the arrival of this, for as long as he had known that it would be coming. He had just been praying that he would have more time; but, clearly, that was not to be. Ichigo pulled the scrap of paper out of the envelope with trepidation; though he didn't recognise the writing, it was not hard to guess to whom the messy, smudged scrawl belonged to.

Grimmjow was starting to get impatient.

"What does it say?"

Ichigo's eyes scanned the paper quickly, and then slid it back in the envelope. Grimmjow's eyes narrowed as they watched him tear it up, into smaller and smaller pieces.

"So it's started?"

Ichigo nodded, and sat down next to him. The lines of their bodies were pressed together, shoulders and hips and thighs all sharing the warmth of skin through their closed.

"Renji's told them. This is it. They know."


	10. Nine

**Chapter Nine**

_Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one._ - Jane Howard

He met Shinji on a silent rooftop in the middle of the city, on his way back him his shift disposing of hollows, though there had been surprisingly few tonight. He was glad of that; for all his strength, these long shifts could exhaust him after an already lengthy day. He had not planned to meet Shinji, and didn't know that his friend would be waiting for him, but Ichigo was no longer surprised when he rounded a corner and found someone waiting to talk to him.

In his opinion, no one ever just came up to you for a conversation, they always have to lurk. He raised an eyebrow at his friend, and Shinji nodded back.

"We have talked it over, Ichigo."

Ichigo tried very hard not to be annoyed at the tone of Shinji's voice, like he expected him to be pleased that the Vizards had been talking about them.

"I assume you're talking about Grimmjow. And what conclusions have you drawn?"

"We don't believe that he is working for Aizen. We don't think that he would go this far if he did not have reciprocate whatever it is you two have. I believe that you have faith in him, and I know that you do not give it away easily."

Ichigo shook his head. Despite this positive start, he could tell by the frown Shinji wore that it couldn't be that simple. He was tired, and had had enough of games.

"So what do you want, Shinji? What can we do to make you all be okay with him?"

"Ichigo, we need to know if we can trust him."

"Do you trust me?"

There was silence, for a moment, before Shinji slowly nodded his head.

"You have different ideals to us, and keep very different company, but yes. I trust you. I would trust you to protect me if I was weakened, because I would do the same for you, and I believe that very few bonds that deep are not without reciprocation. And I think the rest of the Vizards feel the same."

"Will you believe me if I tell you that Grimmjow would do the same, to protect me?"

There was another silence, this one a little longer, but in the end Shinji sighed and nodded once more.

"I think that he would."

Ichigo nodded, glad that his friend had reached this conclusion.

"And if I were to say to you, I have a friend with spiritual powers that is my ally in battle, I want you to meet him. I trust him, and I would like it if you could come to trust him too, because he was on our side, what would you do if I brought in Chad?"

Shinji understood the point he was making, but said nothing.

"Why is it so different, just because it is Grimmjow?"

The Vizard looked at the ground for a moment.

"Because he was on the other side, Ichigo."

"Those sides don't exist any more. Now is the time to make new ones; the Soul Society have found out about Grimmjow, and I need to know if I am going to have you at my back."

Ichigo rested a hand on his friend's shoulder, his voice sincere.

"The war is over, Shinji. And I need to know that you're still with me for the ones coming."

Shinji looked up at him, and all of a sudden his insufferable smile slid back into place. He put his own hand on Ichigo's shoulder and nodded at him, sure of himself. As he looked into the eyes of his friend- so much more mature now than he had been a matter of months ago- he knew for sure that he would not let Ichigo down.

"We're with you, Ichigo. You can count on that."

* * *

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Grimmjow looked him squarely in the eye.

"I really don't know. But are you sure that _you're_ ready for this?"

Ichigo tried not to look as nervous as he felt. What was Grimmjow doing even asking that question?

"I know that I'm not."

"Is it really going to be as bad as you think that it is?"

The former-Espada tried not to laugh at the look of terror that had settled over Ichigo's features as he contorted his face in horror at the thought of what was to come. Normally, it never was as bad as you thought it was going to be, but when it came to one person in his life, it always, inevitably more atrocious than he even could have imagined.

"Oh god, it's going to be worse."

"Then why are we going through this ordeal?"

"Because we have to."

Grimmjow shook his head. He really didn't understand Ichigo sometimes- quite why this was a necessity he didn't understand.

"We really don't have to, you know. You just seem to think that we do. I'd be more than happy not to do it."

"Stop trying to get out of it!"

"I'm not! I'm just saying that we can stay here if you want to. There's lots of other stuff that we can do to pass the time. We could train, or something."

"Or we could go through with what we are planning on doing?"

"Hey, it's not me acting all hesitant about it, you're the one who said you weren't ready for this!"

"Ah, shut up Grimmjow. We're doing this."

Grimmjow sniffed.

"Never said that we weren't."

They glared at each other for a moment, before breaking out into smiles. Grimmjow placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and gently pushed him, walking backwards, towards the door.

"C'mon then, let's get going."

They made it out of the bedroom door and down the corridor before Ichigo faltered again, looking down on his feet as they stood at the top of the stairs, toes sticking out over the edge, Grimmjow nudged him, then looked down with confusion.

"What's going on?"

Ichigo didn't answer, and Grimmjow felt a tug of a smile at his mouth. He had never seen him this nervous before. He lowered his voice a little.

"It's just downstairs, Ichigo. It's not like you've ever walked down these stairs before."

There was a strange expression on Ichigo's face.

"Yeah, but I've never walked down these stairs with you before."

"What bullshit is that? We've gone downstairs loads of times!"

It was true; many a time they had snuck down in the night when Ichigo needed a drink of water or wanted to pick up the leftovers that Yuzu always left her brother on the side or in the fridge for when he was out late. Ichigo had never showed this nervousness before.

"Yeah, but not when my family are down there waiting for us at the bottom."

Grimmjow's face split into a huge grin.

"Go down yourself then."

Ichigo spun on his heel, trying to keep his voice low.

"Where are you going?"

Grimmjow just smiled, and disappeared from view, back through his bedroom door. Ichigo shook his head after him, and descended down the stairs. He had been expecting his family to be gathered around at the end, waiting with eager, upturned faces, though they had no idea that he was planning on introducing them to Grimmjow tonight; why would they? He hadn't told them of his plans. He had suffered enough nightmares about this situation without giving them any ammunition. Anything could happen; and he really did mean anything. Images of his father handing out condoms and discussing safe sex were not even out of the bounds of possibility.

He was a little disconcerted when he actually got downstairs to realised that, in actual fact, they were all sat in the living room, watching Yuzu's favourite show. Karin had her feet up, her shoes kicked off on the floor, and his Father was lamenting the quality of television in a typically melodramatic tone. He perched awkwardly on the arm of the sofa, a little thrown off balance. He really wasn't sure what to expect.

The doorbell rang just as the credits rolled.

Yuzu stood, her apron still on and tied around her waist, and before Ichigo registered what was going on she had gone to open the front door. He froze on his uncomfortable seat as Yuzu's voice came through from the hall.

"Jaegerjaquez-san, it's very good to see you. Please, do come in."

Ichigo seemed unable to move, only watch with horror as his father bounded up, a wide grin on his face as he darted out into the hallway.

"Welcome to our home!"

Karin rolled her eyes and shouted through, getting to her feet and stretching her back.

"Dad, don't be an idiot, he's been here before."

Ichigo watched her wander through. In the background, he could hear Yuzu politely asking if she could take his coat, before realising that taking his coat would leave him bare-chested, and that might be a little bit awkward. In the foreground was Karin's voice, and his father's cheerful answers. Slowly, as if he had lost control of his body, he got to his feet.

"But he's never been welcomed in such an energetic way!"

"Dad, shut up."

"Ahh, come on, he's practically family now!"

When he poked his head around the door into the hallway, he could see the stand off going on between Grimmjow and Karin as his father and other sister continued to chat happily. Karin was looking him up and down, whilst Grimmjow stared over her head in an intentional attempt to make her feel intimidated. To his gratification, it didn't seem to be having any effect on Karin whatsoever, not that he had really expected it to. His sister was many things, but she wasn't a girl to cave. Ichigo took note of her tensed jaw and scowl with pride.

"So you're the guy Ichi-nii's going all soft for, huh?"

If there was anything that might snap Ichigo out of his bemused reverie, it was this.

"Hey, I'm not soft!"

"Shush, Ichigo," his father cooed to him. "He seems very nice."

Ichigo shot his father a baffled look. He was rather wondering if his father had gone insane. Or maybe it was just him. He knew that everyone had known about Grimmjow by now, but he had still expected them to be a little more… surprised.

Grimmjow raised his eyebrows at Ichigo as they passed in the corridor, being towed by Yuzu through to the kitchen.

Even more surprising was that Grimmjow hadn't actually said anything offensive yet, and had actually managed to seem... civil. This was a strange day.

They kept a calendar on the wall of the kitchen, pinned up with great pride, a new one every year. Well, it was Yuzu who kept the calendar, who ordered it, specially made. Each month had a picture of one or two or three or all of them, that she would surreptitiously take throughout the year for this very purpose. The picture for June, however, was always one of their mother. Yuzu went through the big box of photographs up in the attic every year for a new one, and her birthday, on the ninth, was always ringed in blue. But now it was the start of December, and the picture was off an irritated looking Ichigo from the year before, scrapes on his face from the battles he had charged into. To Ichigo, it barely felt like a year since the Winter War had been won, but there was the calendar, to prove it. He had ear-muffs on in the picture, a present from Yuzu, and Isshin had his arm thrown around his shoulders, a snowball in his other hands and a mischievous grin on his face.

Grimmjow looked at the calendar with interest; it had never caught his attention before now.

He stared at the date ringed in red.

"Hey, Ichigo, what's on the twenty-fifth?"

Ichigo couldn't help but smile.

"It's Christmas, a religious holiday,"

Isshin threw his hands together.

"It's a joyous day, one that we celebrate every year!"

Grimmjow and Ichigo exchanged a _glance_ from across the room. Karin was rolling her eyes to the ceiling again.

"Dad, we're not Christians, how many times to I have to tell you-"

"That does not matter! It is about forgiveness, and being together, and being happy with everything that we have, and loving each other. It is a day to be happy on. In fact-" and here he spun on his heels with such speed that he was almost a blur, "We would be delighted if you joined us on Christmas Day, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."

"Dad, I'm sure he doesn't want to-"

"Nonsense! You, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, are one of the family now."

Karin looked exasperated. Yuzu looked pleased.

Grimmjow looked bewildered.

Ichigo just felt vaguely relieved that no one had tried to kill anyone yet.

The evening progressed with less strain than he had expected it to; there was an awkward moment when Yuzu had offered to make Grimmjow something to eat, and Ichigo had to quietly explain that Grimmjow didn't eat human food, and another when Isshin loudly asked Grimmjow what his intentions were in regards to Ichigo's future, but all in all it was going surprisingly well. No one had even mentioned the huge jawbone stuck on the side of his face. Isshin seemed remarkably happy, though Ichigo did catch him watching Grimmjow with a cautious expression a couple of times, when he thought that no one was looking at him. His father's moments of seriousness were always intended to be secret; he didn't seem to like people knowing that he was capable of actually being an adult.

He was good at it; his father's maturity was a well kept secret.

* * *

The writhing masses of the army were sprawled before him, fighting amongst themselves. Blood was stamped into the sand beneath their feet, staining the ground so deep that it was impossible to imagine it ever washing away. He felt that was apt. The fallen Espada had their numbers imprinted on the sand, though no one knew why or how it worked, but they were there. The most important thing to them was their rank, and the most important thing to his army was that they had been scarred.

Life had destroyed them, and they had brought themselves back together. It was still strange to believe that they had managed to come this far.

He had stepped on this road so long ago that it was so difficult to believe that he was almost at the end. It had been such a long time ago, now, that night that had changed his life, that night when he thought there would not, could not be a future for him.

That night he had reached to wipe a tear off his cheek and had realised that it was blood, splattered from his brothers, lying in piles around him.

The shinigami hadn't noticed him; he was only a tiny thing, back then, well hidden underneath the bodies.

Those tall figures in black had seemed so intimidating back then.

It was strange to think that right now, the whole shinigami race seemed to be so small.

But before they could get to that stage, they had one last thing to find, one last thing to concrete everything else. There was a final cog in this vast machine that he had created himself, and he knew exactly where to source it. Hallibel was lost to them; he still didn't know how she had managed to get out without being overwhelmed, since so much of her spiritual energy had been drained, although it hadn't been enough to fill the army's needs. They hadn't been able to source her since she left Karakura; as much as he hated to admit it, she clearly had a lot more skill at hopping between worlds without leaving a trail than he had given her credit for. Every time they caught a whiff of her she had disappeared; he had written her off for a lost cause.

He shrugged his shoulders to himself; she had only been his second choice anyway. She had been weak, she had been injured, mostly drained just from the effort of keeping ahead of the tracking teams and trying to heal herself at the same time.

There was still one left.

And he would be perfect for the job.

The creature cracked his knuckles, and smiled.

"Sexta, we're coming."

He wondered if Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was going to let Karakura burn for him.

* * *

When Ichigo sighed for the third time in the past ten minutes, his head in his hands, Grimmjow turned his head to the side and raised an eyebrow in his direction, though Ichigo could not see him. After the fourth sigh, he sat up from where he was lying on the bed. He had been lying there in a comfortable silence as Ichigo caught up on school work, but now he was going to have to pay attention. Be supportive.

Or some crap like that.

He knew that Ichigo knew he was waiting for him to talk; he waited, though he was not the most patient of people, for his lover to speak.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait a long time.

"I'm worried about her, Grimmjow."

He didn't need Ichigo to explain who he meant; whilst he wouldn't have admitted to actually being worried or anxious for his former-comrade, he couldn't deny that he hadn't thought about her.

"Why?"

Ichigo hesitated for a moment, causing the former-Espada to look over at him again. There was a flash of something that might have been concern, if he had been anything other than himself.

"It's just… something that Zangetsu said to me, after she had left. I don't know, I just can't forget about it."

"What did he say?"

Ichigo bit his lip, and paused for a moment, wondering whether or not to say it.

"He said… he said she was drowning."

Grimmjow looked at Ichigo for a long moment as he waited for Pantera to say anything. She had commented along the same line, but he had not thought to mention it. Perhaps it was unfair of him; he had assumed that Ichigo and his zanpakuto had would not have noticed what was wrong with Hallibel. Clearly they were more observant than he had given them credit for.

Pantera was cautious in his mind, padding through his mind softly, lifting each foot up and putting it down with the utmost care, as if afraid of standing on something sharp.

_You're going to have to tell him, love._

"She's dying, sure enough."

Ichigo's mouth fell open as he stared at him.

"The hell do you mean? You said she'd be fine!"

Grimmjow shrugged.

"We've got to help her!"

He shook his head, slowly, suddenly feeling very tired.

"Ichigo, there's nothing that we can do to help her. She knows she is dying. You can't exist on that little energy, and something inside her has given up. She's not fuelling herself properly. She's literally wasting away, and she knows it."

Ichigo bit his lip.

"Then why does Zangetsu say that her soul feels like it's drowning?"

"How the fuck should I know why her soul thinks that?"

Ichigo lapsed into silence, with no answer to Grimmjow's rhetorical question. He was thinking about the hollows, the ones that had attacked her, and how likely it was that they would be able to find her again, in the vast space that was Hueco Mundo? Though there was so much of the place, it was hardly filled with good hiding places. Sheltering behind a boulder would not be enough if they were looking for her.

No one had spoken about it, but he had looked up at those hollows and had seen the scar tissue left from ripped off masks. It almost felt like a taboo subject, something that was too dangerous to talk about.

And there was something that was worrying him more- they were after Hallibel because she was strong, to feed themselves. Did that mean that Grimmjow himself was at a risk?

He caught Grimmjow's eye, and the corner of his mouth tilted in a worried smile.

Grimmjow didn't know quite what to say; there was no words he knew that could comfort Ichigo. He could not tell Ichigo that it would be alright, that Hallibel would be safe, because he had no way to prove that it would be so, and frankly, he had doubts that it would work out for her. She seemed like a lost cause, as far as he could tell, but he had a feeling that Ichigo didn't want reminding of this.

He flopped back down onto the bed, deep in thought, a frown on his forehead.

They sank back into a companionable silence, both of them thinking the same things. It was a while until they were disturbed, by which point Ichigo had gone back to trying to do his homework, and Grimmjow had close his eyes again.

There was a polite cough from behind them, but they already knew that it was Urahara, appearing in Ichigo's window with the usual lack of forewarning. The sudden appearance made Ichigo spin around in his chair in surprise, and though normally this would at least make the shopkeeper chuckle from behind his fan, but today his face bore no smile or warmth. He sat crouched on the window sill with an unusual air of stillness, and for once his hat was tilted upwards so that they could see his eyes, and they were grim.

"I've had news."

Ichigo's eyes widened, his first thoughts leaping towards Grimmjow, and armies coming to arrest him. He swallowed.

"From who?"

"Renji. He managed to slip a message through to me about an hour ago. He thought that it was something that we should know."

Ichigo glanced over at Grimmjow, and saw that he had completely stilled, and was listening intently. He tried not to panic, tried not to jump to the most obvious of conclusions, but it was very difficult. He almost jumped again as Grimmjow cleared his throat.

"Just give us the news, old man. What's he got to say?"

Urahara looked at them both once more before delivering the rest of the message.

"The Seventh Division followed a lead on an… unusual spiritual pattern this morning in the periphery of an outlying world. They followed it after calling for back up and after a brief battle managed to suppress and arrest the criminal, who is listed in their Most Wanted documentation."

Urahara tipped his hat back down to cover his eyes.

"They've captured Hallibel."

Grimmjow closed his eyes.

* * *

Bad news never comes alone. In fact, it seems to enjoy company.

Three days later an officious looking envelope arrived through the front door with the morning post, though it bore no stamp and no delivery mark from the post office. It was thick, and cream, and the paper had the feeling of great expense in his hands. Ichigo turned it over and over, wishing that he didn't know that the seal on the reverse was that of the Gotei 13, wishing that he didn't know what the symbol of Central 46 was. God, he wished he could believe that this was an ordinary envelope that he could put aside for later, even though no normal correspondence would come addressed to 'Substitute Shinigami Ichigo Kurosaki'.

He didn't know whether or not to wait until he saw Grimmjow to open the letter, knew that he probably should, as it was just as important to him, if not more so. But all of a sudden, as his fingertips felt the raised seal one more time, he knew that he could not wait any longer.

He had to know.

With an overwhelming fear building in his chest, he tore open the envelope, pulling out the letter. His mouth felt dry, bitter.

_~From the Court of Pure Souls~_

_To the Substitute Shinigami of the town of Karakura,_

_Ichigo Kurosaki,_

_We are writing to inform you of court proceedings that will begin on the first of January of this year that involve the town of Karakura, an area designated to you for protection by Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto, the Captain-Commander of the Thirteen Gotei Imperial Divisions as a substitute shinigami. As you are answerable to this authority for offences and ineptitude in this role, you are hereby summoned to attend this hearing, which will take place in the court of the Central 46, located in the Seireitei._

_The hearing is being called due to the report of a reputable shinigami who must remain anonymous throughout court proceedings. This shinigami passed through your allocated area of protection whilst on other business, and reports their concern at witnessing a creature known by the Developed Spiritual Beings Regulation, laid out by the Twelfth Division of the Gotei forces, as an Arrancar. We have substantial evidence that this race, though should have been fully terminated, was not so, and its continued existence is a threat both to your home, to innocent people, and the reputation of yourself and this most noble of institutions. This Arrancar, the witness reports, was not reprimanded, nor was any attempt at capture made. If this is indeed the case, then it shows the incapability of those who protect the area designated to you, including yourself. Immediate action must be taken to remedy this._

_We must stress that this letter is neither an accusation to your person of any crime or misdemeanour, nor must the summons to the arranged hearing be taken as a prelude or arrest or punishment. We simply wish to conclude this as soon as possible, thus preventing any harm being done to the people of Karakura and its protectors. We request that you are compliant with questioning during the hearing, so that the matter may be solved with efficiency and your own innocence in the matter proven._

_We are well aware of the unique climate of Karakura towards those on the other side of the law, and there is much disturbing evidence documenting wrong doing and law breaking within your town that may be outside your knowledge. The protection of many wanted criminals in your town has been a concern for a long while, criminals who, despite the best efforts of the authorities, remain at large. Our concern is that such degenerates may also decide to house the Arrancar, protecting it from view. Should the matter not be cleared up in the hearing, a thorough search of the town shall be ordered, much to your and our benefit._

_Of course, if between receiving this letter and the date of the hearing you do reprimand and contain the creature, this need not happen. You are given permission from this, the highest authority, to kill the creature if it is impossible to subdue._

_We expect to hear your reply confirming your attendance as soon as possible._

_Regards,_

_Yuuko Sato,_

_Undersecretary to the Chairman_

_Central 46_

Ichigo put his head in his hands and sighed. The message was very clear. Hand in Grimmjow, or face punishment. Hand in Grimmjow, or we'll suddenly open that blind eye that we keep on the Vizards, on Urahara and Yoruichi, all the people who rely on the Shoten. Hand in Grimmjow and we'll turn on your friends with powers, your little sister who is showing promise as a shinigami, even on your own father… and if you want, you can kill Grimmjow whilst you're at it.

He looked out of the window, and singled out a star. It was bright, and he stared at it, swearing in his head that he would not let them touch the people that he cared the most about in the world. They wouldn't get away with hurting anyone that he loved. Just let them try.

And if they thought he would give in Grimmjow just like that, they clearly didn't know who they were dealing with.


	11. Ten

Forgive the delay. Love and a Merry Christmas to all.

**Chapter Ten**

_flectere si nequeo superos, Achaeronta movebo - Virgil_

_(If I cannot move heaven, I will raise hell)_

Ichigo raised his eyebrows as, for the fourth time that night, the gentle flickering of air indicated a shinigami, shunpo'ing away from him.

At first he had though that he was imagining it, but it was becoming too obvious. At one point he was even sure that he could feel the breath of a shinigami on the back of his neck, but he hadn't been sure; was he just paranoid or was there really something there? But that had been days ago, and now he knew for sure.

He was being watched.

It was subtle, he thought, but not subtle enough; if even he could notice it, then he knew that the rest of the motley group of rejects and outcasts in Karakura would be able to as well.

They wanted him to know that he was under observation. They wanted to make him nervous.

They were waiting for him to trip up.

Since he had received that letter, things had been still. Almost too still. In many ways the last week had felt like a dream, timeless, no one wanting to talk about the date that crept slowly towards them, closer and closer, unavoidably approaching with silent menace. Everyone knew; he had seen no point in keeping it a secret, and knew that he had hurt his family and friends too much by keeping important events close to him before. Besides, the results of this could influence everything, could change their lives, and he would never be able to forgive himself if anything were to happen to them, just because he did not give them enough warning.

Christmas was approaching, but there were no signs of celebration in the Kurosaki household. Yuzu had made some half-hearted attempts to bring some cheer to the house, but no one felt like celebrating. An unspoken agreement lingered in the air; nothing would happen until the verdict was decided. They would not celebrate until they had a reason to.

And the days had staggered, each one leaning to the next, everyone in transit.

There was a stillness, except for that flickering air of hiding shinigami.

He didn't know why they were doing it, but each had their opinions.

Evening meetings had become common; it felt almost like they were planning a revolution. Two or three would arrive after darkness fell at his door, with advice or concerns or just to talk, sometimes. Each were worried; one time, when he was lying in bed, trying to sleep, he could have sworn that he had heard Urahara and his father arguing downstairs. He had tried to put it out of his mind, tried to get on with his life, but he couldn't ignore the ashen faces around him, the lines of frowning worry, the words from the letter that kept running around his mind.

_substantial evidence that this race, though should be terminated, was not_

_a threat to your home, to innocent people, and the reputation of yourself and this most noble of institutions_

_Arrancar_

_unique climate of Karakura towards those on the other side of the law_

_degenerates may also decide to house the Arrancar_

_a thorough search of the town shall be ordered_

No wonder people were worried.

His father thought that the shinigami present in the town were just there to scare him, to try and make him feel as if he _had _done something wrong. Ishida was concerned that the shinigami had already started searching the town, despite saying that it would not happen until after the trial. Urahara, as far as Ichigo knew, had not put forward any theory regarding the suspicious amount of shinigami, but had remained silent on the subject, only shrugging when pressed for a response on the matter. Ichigo thought that he knew Urahara quite well, but even he could not tell what was going on behind the shadows cast by that hat.

Grimmjow had also refused to pass comment on what was going on.

He had remained infuriatingly and uncharacteristically silent through-out these quiet, evening meetings, sitting away from the rest of them, often going the whole evening without saying a word. He was both a part of these meetings and not; people rarely asked his opinion, and he never offered it himself.

Sometimes, though, there came from him a wave of silent and undeniable rage that washed from him, making the conversation falter, just for a moment.

It was the intensity of rage that Ichigo had only felt from him in battle before, but then it had felt hot, broad, not directed at anything in particular but at the whole, damn, uncontrollable world.

Now it was cold, pointed, as if it finally had a purpose.

Ichigo wished, not for the first or the last time, that Grimmjow was easier to read. He had spent more time than ever in the company of Ichigo since they had first started noticing the presence of shinigami, keeping carefully out of sight, under the protective blanket of spiritual pressure suppressing kido that Hachi had laid over their house for them, at Ichigo's own request. It was similar to the weave of spells that Urahara had over his shoten and that the Vizards had over their warehouse, only it was not as sustainable as theirs, as even in the hands of an expert, work put up in a hurry was never the most durable.

It would do until after the trial, though, and by that point, it probably wouldn't be needed any more.

* * *

Grimmjow slipped through the curtain of black in the early morning of the ninth day since Ichigo had received the letter from the Seireitei, certain that what he was doing was right.

He didn't think that anyone else had noticed it, but there was more to what was going on at the moment than just the invisible shinigami watching their every move. He had been much more careful of late, being sure not to leave the Kurosaki house except when he felt most rested, most able to keep his own spiritual pressure drawn close around him, almost unnoticeable. He could feel the weighing power of it around him, unused to being this held in for this length of time.

He had to go. He didn't know if he would be able to make it back, but he had to find out.

Grimmjow didn't know who else understood what was going on. The shinigami had been well hidden, but the creatures from Hueco Mundo even more so, appearing only to him in brief, deliberate moments. He wasn't sure whether they had been sent to relay a message or whether or not they were intended to frighten him, but it was enough to make him realise that he could not keep delaying what was going on any longer.

He had a sneaking suspicion that Urahara knew what was going on. He was just too damn clever not to, he thought, and he had left something at the Shoten, just in case things went wrong and he wasn't able to come back. He had left instructions for it to be given to Ichigo if he hadn't made it back before the trial started, but he hoped that it wouldn't come to that.

Ichigo was going to be furious when he found out what he was up to, Grimmjow knew. But it wasn't a question of not being able to any more. He had put off doing this, tried to ignore it, for long enough, and they couldn't hit back two curve balls at once. They had the whole weight of the laws and discriminations of the Seireitei about to fall on them, the last thing that they needed was an attack from his old home at the same time.

Someone was breeding an army in Hueco Mundo, he'd known that for a long time, but he had to find out why. He couldn't pretend that it wasn't happening any more.

It had already come too close to home.

They had captured Hallibel, had nearly killed her, both by draining her of her spiritual pressure and by physically harming her as she had tried to escape. He had seen those hollow claws slash through the air of Ichigo's home and had known, then, that it was already too out of hand.

They would be looking at him already, he thought, as their next meal. And they knew exactly where to find him. Better he go to them, than they burn this place to get him.

Hallibel was much stronger than he was, he had no intention of denying that, and just because they had captured her when she was wasted of energy was no reason to underestimate this army. He had no idea how many of them there were, how many tricks they had up their sleeve. He had no clue as to what state he would find them in, or even how to find them when he got through to the other side. He had no real plan and had no idea what could happen, only the knowledge that they possessed Aizen's old toy, the Cage, that could render his own power useless to him and leave him a husk of what he was. He had no allies on the other side, nothing but the zanpakuto in his hand and the six emblazoned on his side.

Halibell hadn't stood a chance.

But then, he wasn't Hallibel.

With a grim smile, he stepped through. He had no fear, but not because he thought he had the advantage. He had no secret weapon, no back up plan.

But what Grimmjow-freaking-Jaegerjaquez did have, was rage.

And quite a lot of it.

* * *

_Hey, King._

Ichigo deliberately ignored the voice of his hollow, cutting through his consciousness like a particularly painful headache. However the hollow was used to this sort of treatment, and persisted.

_Hey, King_.

He gave in; there was no point in not doing so. If he tried to ignore him the hollow would only continue, for hours if necessary. Apparently there wasn't much else to do, stuck there in his mind.

_What do you want?_

_We've been talking about it._

The hollow's voice had a sly edge about it, as if it had a fifth ace up his sleeve. Ichigo rolled his eyes at the teasing tone, not willing to play games.

_Who is we?_

_King, you need to pay more attention to the voices in your head. The old man and I have been talking to Pantera, recently._

_What, you can do that?_

_No shit, Sherlock._

Ichigo was bemused by this new information. What had the three of them been up to, he wondered, and did Grimmjow know that they could do this? It was certainly news to him.

_So, what have you been talking about?_

There was a slight pause. If Ichigo didn't know his hollow better, he would have said that it was trying to decided what to say.

_About what's going to happen next._

_What do you mean?_

_At the court hearing, idiot. We all know you've been trying not to think about what's going to happen, but you need a plan, Boss. You need to know that you have a back up if it all goes up shit creek._

_I have a plan. _

_There was a laugh in his head, a cackle that was not particularly friendly._

_No you don't. You just don't want to entertain the fact that you might not be able to convince them that what you are doing is the right thing._

Ichigo was irritated by now, frowning and a little impatient.

_Look, Urahara said these sorts of things about shinigami usually go to the Captains to vote on._

But the hollow's response was not what he had predicted.

_Are you really convinced enough of them are on your side? There are ten of them, are there really five of them you could honestly call friend? And would they stand for you against the law?_

That floored him, for a moment, because to be perfectly honest, he wasn't sure. He knew which ones would stand up besides him in the field of battles, which ones he knew would have trusted him to take their back when the enemies surrounded them, but in a law court? He would have trusted Byakuya or Hitsugaya with most things, but he knew where they stood when it came to obeying the law and standing up for order. His response, when it came, was hesitant and a little unsure.

_We'll have to see, wont we?_

_And what about if you get there and they've chosen three new Captains to fill in those empty spots?_

He really didn't want to have to think about that eventuality.

_Just… shut up, will you?_

_I'm only telling you what you need to hear, King._

_Well, maybe I don't need to hear it!_

His anger had flared, but his hollow didn't seem to care. There was no vindictive cackling now; this seemed to be one of those rare occurrences when the hollow was actually being serious.

_It's that sort of thinking that's gonna sink you, Boss. You always deny the bad ending. It might work when you've got a sword in your hand, but you're guilty of a crime. You're going there to stand trial for it, no matter what that pretty-worded letter says. And you're guilty. The law has never been nice to guilty people, King._

_Shut the hell up!_

_I'm just saying, King. Knowing your going isn't enough. You need to know what you're doing, too, if you have a hope in hell of getting out of this one without bringing your whole world collapsing around on you. You rush the hell into everything; when are you going to learn to plan?_

_Leave me alone._

And to his surprise, the hollow did, the feeling of his presence slowly slipping away from his mind. His last words, when they came, were almost a whisper, but Ichigo could not have pretended not to hear them for anything. They were words that stuck into him, making him think for the first time about what the consequences of all of this could be. For the first time, Ichigo felt a little scared about the future. This was not something he could win with his zanpakuto. This was not a time when he could count on the people he always thought of as allies.

_People are counting on you, King. Remember that._

* * *

When he emerged in Hueco Mundo he found himself about half an hour from the ruins of Las Noches, the hulking mass of which was still looming on the skyline. Even though the white walls emerged from white sand they seemed separate. There was just something distinctly other in those broken walls, something about the way the shadows fell around them that made the place not quite right. It didn't fit. Grimmjow made no move towards the building; there was nothing that he wanted to see there at the moment, nothing that he particularly wanted to be reminded of.

Grimmjow's concerns about not being able to find the hollow army proved unnecessary. From the moment he landed he had been able to feel the aggressive push of spiritual power to the south of him. It wasn't power that he was used to, but he had been expecting that, and he set off towards the source without a second thought.

Spiritual power feels different depending on its source. A shinigami's power was smoother than that of a hollow, an Arrancar's power more textured than both, and very similar to that of a Vizard. Ichigo's power had a core of heat to it, and though his father's had the same it was surrounded by a cool stillness. Power changed through age and rage, and Grimmjow could still remember the ice cold feeling of the Primera's power, pent up behind bars, and Aizen's spiritual pressure, which felt so tightly drawn around him that you could touch it.

He wasn't sure how best he could have described this spiritual power; the only word he could come up with was raw. It _felt _in pain, as if that was the very basis of their power, as if they were hurting, tearing themselves apart in the quest for power.

Grimmjow could empathise. He'd been there before.

He made no attempts to hide his whereabouts, and no one came to meet him. The closer he got the quieter they became, as if they were shrinking back from him. Almost, he thought, like they were scared.

Grimmjow couldn't blame them.

Finally, he came over the top of a dune, the spiritual pressure almost overwhelming at this point, and saw for the first time what they were up against.

To be honest, it was more than he had expected.

Figures stretched out before him, hundreds of them, on a plain in the sands that was stained a deep red, almost burgundy now the blood had started to dry. The creatures were a mass of moving bodies- there was no regimented stillness, no real sign of order or control- and Grimmjow found that his eyes were picking out individuals in the masses, focusing on one for a moment and then moving on. Some had a masculine shape, others feminine; some were small, others gargantuan in proportion. Some bleeding, others half-dead. Those that could no longer stand we trodden on by the stronger.

Survival of the fittest indeed.

Grimmjow stood on the mound of sand and watched them watching him. Each was riveted to him, not one looked away from where he stood. In the midst of the army there was a large circle, not formally set out but more an unconscious deliberate movement away from the contraption in the centre of the empty space. The creatures knew what they didn't like, and they knew that they didn't like Aizen's favourite toy. Grimmjow didn't know how it worked or what powered it, but it was a terrifying thing.

He had only been placed in it once in punishment, and that had been enough. He had been kept there in there, powers being drained from him, for eight weeks, unable to move, slowly dying. That had been for questioning Aizen's wisdom. He hadn't done it again, at least not to his face.

After a moment he became aware that there was a different movement within the army, a slight rippling as they moved out of the way of someone coming through. Grimmjow watched it through narrowed eyes, waiting. The person who emerged was not quite what he had expected; a slight figure, hooded. He approached Grimmjow quite alone, without any of the army moving with him, until he was stood only a little way from Grimmjow.

"May I approach, Sexta?"

Grimmjow shrugged.

"If you've got something to say."

The creature nodded, and took a few steps closer, pulling his hood down as he did so.

Grimmjow regarded the creature's ruined face without shock or surprise; nothing but indifference registered on his face. He couldn't tell if the hollow had been expecting more of a reaction, but if he had been, Grimmjow wasn't going to give him the pleasure. It was an ugly face though; the tender pinks and browns of scar tissue had marred the paleness of his skin, giving him an uneven tone that was almost striped, in part. There was a tiny part of bone left on his temple, resolutely clinging on even where the rest of his face had been stripped bare of his mask. Skin drooped over his left eye in a hood, and his eyes were dark. It was a face that must once have been beautiful; the elegance of bone structure still shone through the scarred face, despite the ridges and valleys of raised flesh. This massacre of skin went down his throat, before disappearing underneath the fabric of his clothes. The creature's hair fell over his forehead, a wave of mahogany that shone under the cold moonlight.

"Might I introduce myself, Jaegerjaquez-san? I am the leader of this-"

"What are you planning on doing?"

The leader looked surprised, as if he had expected a little more courtesy from their visitor.

"I thought it would be obvious, Jaegerjaquez-san. We're planning on destroying the shinigami."

Grimmjow couldn't help but snort, and he gestured out over the army.

"With these? Do you honestly think they'll stand a chance against the shinigami?"

"You show remarkably little belief in your race."

Grimmjow closed his eyes for a moment.

"They've never given a reason for my belief."

"But we are all one."

Grimmjow's eyes opened again, and fixed him with a blank stare.

"You and I are not the same."

"But we are, Jaegerjaquez-san, in so many ways. We were both once hollow, now we are both something more. The removal of our mask has made us into something that we could never dream of before, and I assure you, we are more than capable of defeating the shinigami. Perhaps not in a face to face battle, but then, that is not what I am planning."

Grimmjow sighed, heavily. This was starting to sound more and more like a megalomaniac-style speech, and he really didn't have time for that sort of thing.

"Cut the shit, and tell me what your plan is."

Once more, the creature looked surprised.

"Why do you think I would tell you?"

"Because, idiot, if the plan is good enough, I might be tempted to help you. The shinigami are no friends of mine."

There was a long silence, as the creature tried to figure out whether Grimmjow was serious or not. The Sexta's reputation preceded itself; there was no question that the former Espada was a brutal, ruthless individual, and the Espada's hatred of the shinigami was legendary. He had come here of his own free will, had left Karakura behind, and really, what connection could an elite Arrancar ever really make with a human town anyway?

It wasn't a hard decision. He nodded at Grimmjow.

"When the shinigami fought the highest Espada in Karakura town, the shinigami transported the real town to the Soul Society. You are aware of all this, I presume. However, when they moved the town back they did not bother to disconnect the links between the two. They would dissolve over time anyway, in about a century, and in the interim there were concerns enough about the people of Karakura that keeping the links was deemed wise, at it would make it easier to keep in contact and to keep watching the people of the town. Shinigami can move to Karakura with much more ease now than ever before, and it also meant that if the town was every targeted by any hollows or surviving Arrancar, then they would be quick at hand to step in."

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow. He really wasn't sure where this was going.

"However, there is one downside to this plan of theirs. If you were to locate the links- and there are only eight of them- and if you managed to destroy them, then the whole of the Soul Society would be unbalanced. There is too much of a physical link mixed up in the kido- it would not be impossible for the whole of the Soul Society to come crashing down. It would be in this moment that we strike- when the shinigami are at their weakest, when they are not expecting it."

"Why have they left these links open if they know that could happen?"

For the first time, the creature smiled. It was an eerie expression, pulling the tendon-like lines of scars into strange patterns and lighting up his eyes with a fire that was almost uncomfortable to behold.

"The links are hidden."

"And how do you intend to find them?"

The smile widened, showing pointed, white teeth.

"That is where I come in. I have little physical power, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, very little in the way of prowess in the fighting world. But my strength has always been in sensitivity, and I have a unique and exceptional skill that has grown vastly since the removal of my mask. I am a sensor, Sexta, and so far I have been able to sense the presence of five out of eight of the links. I have every confidence that I will be able to find the next three very, very soon."

"And then you'll destroy them."

"That's right. It will be a wonderful moment for us."

"Then what? World domination?"

The creature shook his head slowly.

"We have no desire to destroy the world of the humans, or to encroach upon it. Hollows might use human spirit to feed themselves, but that would not be enough for us. Our unique state means that we require a much stronger power than a simple human- the Arrancar would be a perfect substitute, but there are not enough left to fulfil us indefinitely. We will be taking shinigami back to this place, and absorbing theirs."

"That won't feed you indefinitely."

He smiled again.

"You exceed my expectations, Sexta! But yes, they would not- that is what many of my associates simply do not understand. But there are many who think along my lines, and we came across a very useful little thing not long ago that will help us on our way."

Grimmjow nodded in the direction of the machine he had been looking at earlier.

"The Cage."

But to his surprise, the creature shook his head, and with a flick of his wrist seemed to send a message to his assembled hordes. The rippling started again until, thrust out of the crowd, four shapes appeared. It took Grimmjow a moment to realise that he recognized them; that, in fact, they were three of the Octava's fraccion.

"Were you aware that it was the Octava who did most of the work on the Cage? But of course, it is never just the work of one, is it? These four did a lot of the work on it, you know, and they've been helping me develop my newest toy."

Grimmjow was starting to feel a little sick. Just what were these twisted creatures doing?

"We have nearly completed the Cage's child, Sexta. And it is beautiful."

"What the hell have you made, you sick bastard?"

The smile stretched wider, splitting his face in half.

"When we attack the Soul Society, we do not intend to kill them all. We will subdue, with our new weapons, we will capture with our new tools. This is what Aizen and the Octava have left behind for us. Then, we shall bring the shinigami to the new Cage, and there they will live, breed, die, endlessly. It is nearly a mile long and the same wide. Just as they have, for years, humiliated us, so we shall humiliate them. We will keep them like animals, and they will feed us forever."

Grimmjow looked at him levelly.

"You're insane."

"Perhaps, but most visionaries are considered mad at first. But just imagine it, Sexta- a life without shinigami. We need never see those humans again, we can seal off their world and explore others. For the first time, we will be in charge of the known worlds, of finding new ones. We will no longer be confined to the footnotes of history, to the lists of the dead. And with such little bloodshed! The shinigami will be subdued with the minimal of bloodshed. Of course, Karakura will be destroyed in the process as the links are severed, but the deaths of humans are of no real con-"

He found himself cut off by a hand around his neck. It took his army a moment to process what had actually happened; by the time they began to move, he already had his hand up in silent command. They stopped short, but there were mutterings of discontent in the lines still.

Grimmjow's eyes were dark with fury, his hand tight around the creature's throat. His spiritual power lashed around him, there was a roar of beast in the air as the creature began to choke.

But then Grimmjow remembered where he was, remembered the army that were poised just behind him, remembered that there were people waiting for him to come home.

Home.

Home to Karakura.

He placed the creature back on the ground, and opened a slit back to the world that was, for better or for worse, his own, now.

The creature was smiling again.

"Are you going to stop us, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez? You cannot hide from us forever. Sooner or later all of these worlds will collide once more, and where will you run then, Sexta? Where will you hide when all of your hiding places are dust?"

But Grimmjow didn't answer, just slipped through before anyone had a chance to stop him.

The weeks passed.

* * *

Grimmjow grew quieter, Ichigo more tense as the first of January drew ever closer. Neither felt able to talk properly, stifled by the tension of everything that would not release them from their worries. No word came from the Soul Society; as time passed, Ichigo found himself more and more disheartened by the lack of support from Rukia, Renji, or any of those that he thought of as friends in the Seireitei. His hollow's words began to press more and more on his mind and he became more and more concerned about the loyalties of those he knew, his confidence in them sinking lower and lower.

But that was not the only thing that his hollow has said that had stuck with him.

More and more often now he found himself awake at night, trying to think of what to say, how to convince, the best way to defend himself against a legal system that he didn't even understand the whole way through. How had it all come to this?

He rolled over in bed, and watched Grimmjow. He was sure that his lover was not asleep, but was simply resting. He was still as anything, lying on his back. The line of his face looked cut from marble, cool and hard and chiselled out of rock, polished to a smoothness that Ichigo thought, much to his embarrassment, as beautiful.

He hesitated about touching that cheek, but after a moment did so. If he wasn't more used to the former-Espada, he would have been surprised when Grimmjow spoke, without opening his eyes or moving his body.

"The hell are you doing?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes, and poked Grimmjow again.

"Trying to think."

"Shouldn't you be trying to sleep?"

He pulled a face, rather redundantly as Grimmjow still had his eyes closed.

"I'm just… I just don't know what's going to happen."

Grimmjow rolled over, pulling Ichigo's head towards him and tucking it under his own chin.

"No one knows what's going to happen, Ichigo."

"Grimmjow…"

"What?"

"Whatever happens, whatever comes out of this, I am not letting go of what we have without a fight. They can threaten what they want, but I am not standing down. And I don't know what is going on with you, I don't know what it is that you're worrying about, but we can figure it out."

Grimmjow's hand fisted in Ichigo's hair. It was a little painful, but Ichigo said nothing.

"This is such a mess."

"What do you mean?"

But Grimmjow didn't reply. He was silent for a very long time, staring upwards into nothing as he thought of all that was weighing on them. He hadn't been able to bring himself to tell anyone of what was going on in Hueco Mundo. For the first time in his life there were people who were relying on him for something important. For the first time in his life, he found that there was something that he wanted to protect beyond his pride; everything that he had found here, everything that he had been given. And between the law of the Soul Society and the oppressing worry of the plans of the army in Hueco Mundo, there was a lot to protect against.

He could feel the concern radiating off from Ichigo, and he held him slightly tighter.

"I will do anything it takes, Ichigo Kurosaki, to fix this mess I have made."

Ichigo said nothing; there wasn't anything to say.

* * *

The thirty-first dawned cool and clear. Christmas had passed without note or mention- just as he had thought, his family had ignored Christmas for the first year ever, and he couldn't blame them- there was no feeling of festivity about them or their friends this year, nothing but concern and preparation for a future they were unsure about. Even his father had taken to training again in the Urahara Shoten, although he would not allow any of his children to watch him. There were some things, he told them, that a child should never see his father doing, and one of them was wielding a dangerous amount of power. Urahara had been busy, too, although no one was quite sure why he had spent so much time wandering around the night time streets of Karakura, but they trusted that he had reason enough; he usually did.

They all gathered the evening before. No one had organised it, but it happened none the less. Friends and family alike all crowded into the Kurosaki living room and sat, mostly in silence, awkwardly together.

Ichigo viewed them all with a melancholy sort of sadness- some he had not spoken to for months, others he saw every day, but all of a sudden he had a new responsibility for them.

The Vizards sat together, quite close to Urahara, who lounged quite comfortably in an arm chair, apparently completely at ease. The familiar black-cat form of Yoruichi was perched on the arm of the chair, her deep, masculine voice cutting across conversation whenever she spoke. Inoue was trying to smile; Chad said nothing, as was usual. To Ichigo's surprise Tessai was there too, and Jinta and Ururu were sat with Yuzu in the kitchen. Ishida was leaning in the doorway, not quite willing to join in, and his father watched Karin pace up and down the room, around the various people spread out. Even Kon was perched in the corner, on top of the bureau, from which vantage point he could look down the women's tops.

And there was Grimmjow, leaning against the wall, face drawn into a frown. No one spoke to him and he spoke to no one, but that was perfectly normal. To Ichigo's disappointment, there was still an element of distrust around the room, between many people.

Quiet conversations began between groups as he moved over to stand next to Grimmjow, who raised his eyebrows at him in a silent question. He just shrugged back. He really wasn't sure about how he was feeling.

If this went wrong, all of these lives would be destroyed.

The Vizards would have to find a new place to hide, would have to flee the place where they had lived for the last century. The Captain Commander had turned a blind eye on them since the Winter War, but if a search of the town was ordered then they could not be ignored. The same went for Urahara, and the Shoten; that dysfunctional little family would have to uproot themselves. Chad and Orihime would be under investigation; the Quincy's would once again be under the scrutiny of the Gotei 13. His family would suffer; he had never learnt under what circumstances his father had left the Soul Society, but was under the impression that his father would not welcome their spotlight. Karin would be noticed; he didn't want to think about the response to her own growing powers.

He would lose Grimmjow. One way or another, he would lose him.

And, at the end of the day, that was more than he could cope with.

* * *

_Expect the next update on the first of January, 2012._


	12. Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

_Politics, n. Strife of interests masquerading as a contest of principles. - _Ambrose Bierce

Ichigo landed in the Soul Society with a feeling of unease. No one had told him exactly when to arrive, but a brief note from Rukia advised him to come on the thirty first, so that she could take him to where he needed to go the next day. The offer had been extended on Kuchiki family notepaper, and he was invited to spend the night in their mansion. Ichigo still wasn't sure quite how he felt about that, to be honest.

He was let through the gates into the Seireitei without a hassle; he had never met the guardian on duty at the gate, but they seemed to know who he was, and there was no question of him not being allowed in. It was a far cry from the last time he was really here, when he had to break in to the place.

Strange how things change, really.

The streets seemed quiet to him, and couldn't shake the feeling that he was being avoided.

The last time he was here he hadn't really looked around the place properly- he'd been trying far too hard not to get captured or killed to really admire the scenery. It felt lonely to him now, without his friends at his back and a goal in front of him. The tall, white walls that went along each different pathway made the place feel like a particularly unfriendly maze, and in the end he jumped up on the wall, to walk along the top. From there, he could see a lot more of the place. The walls were all too tall for him to be able to tell if there was anyone walking on any streets that weren't in the immediate vicinity, and he had to suppress the desire to yell aloud, just to see if it would echo in the emptiness.

He shrugged, to himself, and carried on in what he thought was the vague direction of the Thirteenth division. Rukia had told him that it was east from the gate. Unfortunately, geography had never been his strong point.

After half an hour he had to admit that he didn't have a clue where he was going.

Close by though, he could see the large gate of a division, though he couldn't tell what division it was. He went over to it, hands behind his head, trying to look nonchalant even though he was feeling oddly nervous. This abated only slightly when he realised that he was approaching the Tenth Division.

The man on duty at the gate took one look at him and ducked through the small door set in the gate, without saying a word to him. Ichigo, unsure of what to do, stopped still, feeling a little foolish. Gradually he became aware of voices behind the doorway, getting louder and louder as the argument grew more heated; it stopped, suddenly, and the new silence was accompanied with hurried footsteps that sounded as if they were running towards the division buildings.

Ichigo was getting more and more irritated, and more and more inclined to blast down those damn gates just to find out what was going on behind them, by the time the door swung open and he was faced with the most terrifying weapon to ever face an awkward (and leaning towards gay) teenage boy.

Breasts.

"Ichigo!"

"Hey, Matsumoto."

It was ridiculously hard not to look at the deep cleavage in front of him as Matsumoto advanced upon him for a suffocating embrace.

"It's been too long, Ichigo! You really must come and visit us more often."

Ichigo shrugged.

"No offence, but I've had warmer welcomes."

Matsumoto's forehead creased into a frown. It was a rare occasion for her happy façade to slip, and Ichigo noted it with a little concern. Just how unpopular had he become in the Soul Society? Maybe it was a little big headed of him, but he'd been under the impression that he had attained a certain level of, if not friendliness, then at least respect and admiration from the shinigami, not in the least for defeating Aizen.

"Well, things are a little tense around here at the moment."

Ichigo watched her carefully, and she wasn't quite able to meet his eye.

"What do you mean, tense?"

"It's just…" to his surprise, for a moment she seemed stuck for words. "It's just that there have been so many rumours going around, you know? Central46 isn't allowed to keep any of its plans secret any more, they all have to be announced, so everyone knows you've been called to court because of a sighting of a possible Arrancar in Karakura. And it isn't that people distrust you, it's just that a lot of the more… traditionally minded people have issues with your town, and the people… in it."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. When were people going to accept that it was the Vizards who saved the shinigami's neck against the Espada?

"But… it isn't just that."

She was silent for a moment longer, before shaking her head as if annoyed at herself and looking him straight in the eye.

"Ichigo, is it true?"

But before he could answer a cold breeze brushed against him, sending the hairs on the back of his neck upright in salute, the sort of breeze that only came from the zanpakuto of a customarily irritated Captain Hitsugaya.

"Good morning, Kurosaki."

"Hey, 'Shiro."

The Captain scowled, and for a moment everything was normal.

"Don't call me that."

Ichigo nodded, trying not to grin.

"What are you doing here?"

Ichigo rubbed the back of his head, a little embarrassed.

"I got lost trying to find the Thirteenth Division."

"What do you want with Captain Ukitake?"

Ichigo looked at him in surprise; Toushiro, for all his childish appearance, was usually very astute. He thought that everyone knew of his friendship with Rukia?

"Nothing, I'm looking for Rukia."

Toushiro said nothing, just frowned at him for a moment before turning on his heel and stamping back to his division, sending curt warning to Matsumoto that her break was nearly over.

"What was all that about?"

Matsumoto shrugged, but didn't look particularly comfortable.

"Who knows? But you're a way away from the Thirteenth. I'll get someone to take you there."

"No need for that."

Ichigo grinned at the sight of a familiar voice. He hadn't noticed Ikkaku approaching but there he was, surprisingly without Captain, Lieutenant or Yumichika, zanpakuto slung over his shoulder. His grin was as wide as ever, and Ichigo wondered if he was making up what he thought was a sigh of relief from behind him.

"C'mon then Kurosaki, d'you want to find the Thirteenth or do you want to stand there gawping all day?"

Matsumoto waved them off, but Ichigo couldn't shake the feeling that he was unwelcome. Ikkaku was acting no different from normal, but he supposed that the Eleventh were not exactly representative of the rest of the Soul Society.

"So, what's with everyone acting weird around me?"

Ikkaku did not seem surprised by the question, and shrugged.

"You know what people are like."

Ichigo did, but he didn't understand quite how that answered his question. Before he could prompt Ikkaku for any more explanation, he felt a hand slam against his chest, stopping him short. He looked across at his bald companion, but Ikkaku's eyes were fixed forward. In front of them, around a corner that they had turned without caution, was the Captain Commander of the Gotei 13, who was progressing along the same path as them, in the opposite direction. Ikkaku pushed him against the side of the path, allowing the old man to walk past easily, his Lieutenant a shadow behind him. Neither looked at Ichigo until they were just about level with him, at which point the Captain Commander fixed him with an icy stare that lasted just a moment.

The man moved on, and Ikkaku moved back into the middle of the road.

He whistled as the Captain Commander rounded the corner, now out of sight.

"Geez Kurosaki, you sure know how to make friends."

Ichigo felt strangely defensive.

"Ain't my fault."

Ikkaku glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, and muttered under his breath.

"I don't doubt that."

"Ichigo!"

They both turned, to see a delighted looking Rukia running towards them. He blinked in surprise at her sudden arrival but smiled at her, noticing that Renji was following her, slowly, unwilling to catch his eye.

"Ichigo, you're late! I thought you'd be here almost an hour ago, Captain Ukitake let me off early to see if I could find you!"

Ikkaku elbowed him in the ribs.

"You know what this loser's like, he got lost. Lucky I was here to show him the way, or you might never have found him."

Rukia rolled her eyes.

"We're not all as bad at sensing spiritual power as the two of you are, y'know."

Ikkaku stuck his tongue out at her, but any further banter was halted by the arrival of Renji, who, to Ichigo's surprise, looked furiously embarrassed. Rukia looked knowingly between the two of them as Renji shuffled his feet. Ikkaku just looked confused.

"Ichigo, I'm-"

He punched Renji's shoulder, lightly, and smiled his crooked smile.

"Idiot. It's fine."

Renji looked up for the first time, biting his lip.

"You sure?"

Ichigo shrugged, and pretended to punch his friend in the jaw, his fist only just resting against Renji's skin when it made contact. At least he knew for sure now that, even though it had been Renji who had informed the Seireitei, he hadn't lost their friendship.

"We all gotta do what we have to do."

Renji grinned, and the awkwardness lifted.

* * *

That day, the Kurosaki's house was full, as it had been all week. Everyone who had turned up the night before Ichigo left had shown up at some point, even if it was just for an hour or so. Urahara had settled in, it seemed, for the long run; Grimmjow didn't think that the guy had left the house since Ichigo had gone to bed, but had just sat there with Isshin, most of the time not even talking. They were just keeping each other company through the long, worrisome hours. Not long after Ichigo left, Grimmjow joined their silent vigil around the dining room table. Sometimes conversations started between Urahara and Isshin; sometimes Grimmjow even joined in. The day drew on, darkness fell early, and soon the house began to empty of those who had been hanging around for a while.

Yoruichi padded back and forth around the house; she didn't say much, but the way her fur was stood on end made sure that everyone could see that she was nervous.

Grimmjow was a little confused; he had been apart from Ichigo only for a few hours, but already he missed him inconsolably.

He wondered if that was because he knew that, the next time he saw Ichigo, their lives would have irrevocably changed.

Yuzu offered them food; all of them declined, but she brought in a pot of tea and some biscuits just in case. She stood nervously in the doorway on her way out of the room, wringing her hands, silent for a moment.

"Do you think that he'll be alright?"

The silence following the question was too long.

By the time Isshin replied, Yuzu already knew the uncertainty of what her brother was doing. She went to the kitchen, and began to clean the oven with methodical focus.

She had written the New Years postcards with a sense of foreboding this year, unable to explain why it felt more apt to send out the blank cards that a family would send when a member had passed away. She couldn't remember the sight of her father crying at the kitchen table, trying to address those ominous postcards the year her mother had died, but Ichigo could, and though she didn't know it, the house held a similar stillness now, a pent up emotion, and grief. A few postcards had already arrived, a little early, and she hadn't had the heart to put them up yet. It felt too wrong to do so.

After a while, Urahara took of his hat, shifting the shadow from his face. Grimmjow and Isshin said nothing at the dark shadows under his eyes. After all, they looked just as bad.

The ticking of the clock seemed to draw out more and more slowly at the hours dragged by, each tick louder and protracted and infuriating. There were few other noises in the house; the padding of a cat on the landing, the sound of Yuzu in the kitchen, where she had now moved on to mopping the floor, the quiet footsteps of Karin as she went from one room to another, unable to settle anywhere. Fireworks exploded around the house at midnight, set off by those who were celebrating the new year; occasionally the sound of happy people enjoying the night drifted in through the open window.

The world outside rejoiced, and eventually fell into the quiet, deep slumber of four in the morning, but there was no rest in the Kurosaki household on the night of the thirty first of December.

* * *

The morning of the first of January dawned clear, the sun streaking the sky with red. Ichigo watched it rise from the window of the room in the Kuchiki house that he had been given; he hadn't slept all night.

He hadn't really expected to be able to.

However, despite his nervous expectations he hadn't seen a thing of Byakuya all last night; after the conversation with his hollow and the cold reception from Toushiro the day before, he had been worrying more and more about who would stand up for him if, as Urahara said it might, the court went to a vote from the Captains.

Byakuya would have his back against a blade, he thought, but perhaps not against legal documentation.

After all, just as his hollow had reminded him, people who break the law, no matter how nice a person they are, are still criminals.

He had broken the laws of the Soul Society, but it was still hard to look in a mirror and think, _I am a criminal._

Rukia knocked on his door an hour or so later, sticking her head around it and asking him if he was ready for any breakfast. He followed her down, and they ate together in silence. Neither of them managed to eat a lot.

He really didn't want to admit that he was nervous.

Ichigo finally saw Byakuya just as they were finishing eating; the Captain paused in the doorway and nodded at Rukia, clearly expressing something to her. She nodded back, and smiled at Ichigo; by the time he looked back at the doorway, Byakuya had left.

"We need to leave soon," was all she said on the subject.

Byakuya did not greet him when they met by the outside door, but he did fix Ichigo with a brief look, acknowledging his presence. Rukia was becoming more and more nervous, wringing her hands together and babbling about anything to Ichigo to break the silence. To Ichigo's surprise they set off at a sedate walk, rather than shun'po-ing to wherever it was that he was expected to be at. After about ten minutes, they came upon Renji, who had been waiting on a street corner, seemingly for them. He fell into place with them, and though he said nothing he gave Ichigo a smile, and squeezed his shoulder quickly.

They walked a little longer before a large, grey building came into view. It was circular, and not very aesthetically pleasing. Renji nudged him, and nodded towards it. This was clearly where they were going.

The group were almost upon it when Byakuya stopped, and turned to face him. As usual, his face gave away no signs of emotion and no expression of his feeling, but his eyes did flicker to Rukia and to Renji before they settled on Ichigo.

"I hope you realise, Ichigo Kurosaki, that they already know everything that has gone on."

Ichigo nodded. That came as no surprise to him.

"They are looking for any excuse, and will try anything to trip you up."

Ichigo grinned at the Captain.

"Don't worry, I don't intend to make a mistake."

Byakuya said nothing, but it was clear that he was sceptical.

Upon arriving at the building Ichigo was immediately ushered away from the rest of them, and informed that the hearing was 'closed', meaning that the only people present would be the board of Central46, who had nominated a 'questioner', and the Captains of the Gotei13, who apparently had the right to attend any case being held in Central46, regardless of the nature of it. Ichigo didn't have many doubts that there would be a full contingent today. There was a large chamber outside of the internal room in which cases were held. In this chamber anyone could gather to hear the verdict of the court for that day. He also suspected that this chamber would be rather busy.

Apparently, he was key witness in the investigation.

He was lead through a small doorway- he had to duck to get through it, but found himself in an enormous circular room. Surrounding the floor he was on there were tiers of seats, going upwards into blackness. In front of him were the people that he assumed made up the Central46. There were about forty of them, and another six were sat behind a large, authoritative marble desk, forward from the rest. When he turned, behind him were the Captains. As he had expected, all ten were present, with three empty chairs where the post was vacant still.

There was only one other man on the floor; he had been informed that this was the so-called 'questioner'. Ichigo nodded to him.

"Are you Ichigo Kurosaki, substitute shinigami of the town of Karakura, designated to you for protection by Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto in his role as Captain-Commander of the Thirteen Gotei Imperial Divisions?"

Ichigo raised an eyebrow, a little surprised at how formal this was.

"Yes."

"And does the Captain-Commander confirm this?"

All eyes turned to the Captain-Commander. The old man said nothing, but simply nodded. Apparently he had enough gravitas for this to be enough.

"And do you, Ichigo Kurosaki, admit that you are answerable to these authorities for offences and ineptitude in the role?"

"Yes."

There was a quiet chuckle from the line of Captains behind him, but he couldn't tell who it had been. The line of six judges behind the marble desk all shot disapproving looks in that direction, and Ichigo had to stifle a grin of his own.

"We have a report from a ranked shinigami of some repute, whose identity must of course remain anonymous, that when happening to be in Karakura one and a half months ago, he saw a creature known as an Arrancar by the Developed Spiritual Beings Regulation, laid out by these Gotei forces and documented by the Twelfth Division. What do you have to say to this?"

Ichigo shrugged.

"I thought the Arrancar had been wiped out by your Gotei forces- at least, that was what I had been told."

The stern faced man scowled at him. He clearly didn't appreciate this line of response, but Ichigo wasn't quite sure what else the man had been expecting. The questioner glanced up at the line of judges, as if asking for permission. After a moment, one of them nodded at him, and he turned back to Ichigo. His voice was annoyed, clearly unwilling to admit the next part.

"Substantial evidence has been given that though the race should have been terminated, it was not."

"Then maybe you should be trying to capture them."

The man's face was quite red by now, and there were murmurings coming from the so called 'wise men' of Central 46. Ichigo couldn't make out what they were saying, but there seemed to be some irritation at his impertinence. Clearly, they were not used to people like Ichigo Kurosaki.

"Regardless, it has been reported that this Arrancar that appeared in Karakura was not captured, nor was any attempt to subdue it obvious. What do you have to say on this?"

He shrugged.

"If that is what your report says, then it must be true."

The questioner glared at him, his voice rising.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, do you understand that the presence of an Arrancar is a threat to your home, to innocent people, and to yourself?"

"I do."

"Then why was no attempt made?"

Ichigo looked the man clearly in the eye.

"We obviously didn't see it."

The man was becoming more and more riled now; it was obvious that he had already decided that Ichigo was a guilty idiot, and Ichigo's side-stepping around the questions was infuriating him. His voice rose again with the next question, almost a yell.

"Are you denying that you are harbouring an Arrancar?"

The room fell silent, all attention focused on Ichigo Kurosaki.

The substitute shinigami smiled, and the man took a step backwards.

"I do not deny that."

* * *

A recess was called as soon as the noise had subsided. Ichigo's revelation seemed to have shocked everyone. He had turned around after the judges had called for a recess to 'assess this new evidence', and the faces of the Captain's had been a sight to behold. Even Byakuya had looked a little surprised (he thought, anyway- it was hard to tell with Byakuya). He had a feeling that as soon as news of his response leaked back to the others, they would hit themselves, cursing his stupidity and the fact that they hadn't talked through with him what he should say. But he didn't care- despite what they might think, he actually was planning.

He had no desire to deny knowledge of Grimmjow when they all already knew the score.

That was the impression that he had got, anyway- and it wouldn't surprise him if they knew more than he thought. To give it to them, the shinigami were damn good at reconnaissance, and interesting news spreads fast. He was sure that all of this was just a legal formality before they went ahead and searched Karakura, and his only option, if he were to protect all of the people at home that he wanted to, was to put himself in the firing line.

And that was just what he was doing.

He leant back in the uncomfortable wooden bench that was all the furniture in the small room he had been lead to, and smiled to himself.

The old men had looked so confused at his response; no doubt they had planned an unnecessarily elaborate plan to trip him up on the assumption that he would deny everything. Idiots. Clearly, they had underestimated him.

After about an hour he got up, and began to pace, starting to feel impatient. What the hell was keeping them? He wanted this over and done with. At least they hadn't locked him in the room- that showed a modicum of respect, at least. Or, perhaps, an intentional action, another part of the plan to show his guilt. He had no intention of leaving the room- even he could see that it would be twisted immediately into him 'trying to escape', even though he did really need the bathroom. He wasn't going to give them that one.

From outside, he heard raised voices. It sounded like the prosecutor, he thought, though he couldn't be sure. The words were not quite loud enough to be heard clearly, just an infuriating murmur of noise, until finally the prosecutor- and Ichigo was sure that it was him now- spoke louder than before.

"But that's highly unethical! If he is inno-"

He was cut off immediately by whoever he was with, though this person spoke far too quietly for Ichigo to be able to make out what the response was. The voices passed him, walking back in the direction of the courtroom, and he sat down again on the uncomfortable wooden bench.

Not long now, surely.

* * *

In Hueco Mundo, there was a tense feeling of expectation, an atmosphere of readiness and excitement. The weaker creatures were starting to worry, concerned that, when they were ready to strike, they may be consumed for spiritual power to fuel the stronger. They held no delusions about the loyalties of their comrades, and the stains of blood on the sand did not let them forget what could so easily be their fate.

What could so easily have been the fate of their leader, had he not the cunning and the skill and the intelligence needed to lead such an unruly army of scarred monsters.

They were things of nightmares and childhood terror. They were the creatures that lived in the darkness under the bed, that spread their shadows across ceilings. They were the ones that you were scared were hidden in your wardrobe, but he was the one that creaked the doors open.

He surveyed them with something akin to a sneer. He was becoming more and more sick of their fighting, of their animal natures. Why couldn't they just think, like he could? Why was this assembly of idiots his only tool to achieve his aims? Why would he have to savour his victory with these _cretins_?

Those few creatures that had received his special attention- those ones that had a brain cell- had become his special guard, the ones that surrounded him, the only ones he could talk to. But even those could not contemplate the beauty of his undertaking; even those were motivated mainly by hunger, by the bestial need for a bloody victory.

By the thought of being the top of the food chain.

But it did worry him a little- what would happen when everything had fallen into place, when the shinigami had been overthrown and imprisoned in his cage. What happened then, when their desire for blood couldn't be stated by the promise of a battle? Would he have to search out new worlds to conquer, would he have to plan another elaborate coup? Would they spill over into the human world despite his wishes to avoid it, would they start attacking humans? That could easily draw the attention of other worlds, and he had no desire to provoke an all out war with another powerful race that could easily be the match of the Shinigami, if not greater?

And the worst fear of all- what if the creatures thought, that once they had the shinigami to feed off, that they didn't need him any more? But for a fluke of power, he was just one of the weak ones down there, destined only to fuel the stronger.

There was no loyalty here.

He was broken from these thoughts by one of his inner circle of guards, who bowed low to him before she spoke. He was surprised to see her, though he did not let it show. She had been in the human world for weeks, leading the search for the links, following the vague approximations of where they would be, from what he had been able to sense. Her arrival was not anticipated, and could have brought good or bad news.

He raised an eyebrow at her, and wondered if she was shaking, or whether it was his imagination.

"Yes?"

She looked up, and she was shaking- but also, grinning.

"We've found the sixth link!"

* * *

When he was finally called back to court, Ichigo was feeling rather irate. He had been stuck in the room for nearly three hours, and was infuriated by the court and its slow progression. He watched the Captains and the 'wise men' file back to their seats, not bothering to hide his scowl. His expression only softened slightly when, as he was watching the Captains, Byakuya caught his eye and gave him the smallest of nods. It wasn't much, but it was an unexpected gesture that made him feel slightly better.

He turned back towards the board of judges, who were settling themselves down in their seats again. Frustration rose in his throat like bile as he waited. Did they not realise how long they were taking.

After what felt like an inordinate amount of time, the man that Ichigo expected was the head of the board of judges turned to him with a serious frown that seemed a little exaggerated and unnecessary, as if he didn't want anyone to forget the gravity of the situation.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, substitute shinigami of the town of Karakura, you were brought here today to face charges of harbouring a fugitive in your own town, and creature known as Arrancar by the Developed Spiritual Beings Regulation, laid out by these Gotei forces and documented by the Twelfth Division. You have pleaded-"

"Excuse me, if I may interrupt?"

The judge looked up in surprise, and Ichigo turned around to face the voice. From the row of Captains, one had stood up. Unohana smiled at the judges with a benevolent air, a little like a grandmother wanted to offer a slice of cake.

"Captain Unohana, this is not the time for-"

"Only, it seems to me that your wording suggests that you have Kurosaki on trial. And I was under the impression that this was a _hearing _to discuss a problem, not a trial to discuss his guilt on a matter that has not yet been settled."

The judge looked startled.

"Ah, well-"

Unohana's smile, all of a sudden, was looking a lot less like a grandmother. There was an edge of ice to her voice, and for the first time Ichigo could see why so many people were scared of her. She fixed the judges bench with a hard look.

"We wouldn't want things to be _confused_, would we? We wouldn't want any one to think that things were being done in an inappropriate way, even if it was accidentally?"

The judge seemed to deflate a little. He looked pleadingly at the Captain-Commander, but there was no response from there. Clearly he was willing to back up his Captain. He could reprimand her- it was technically wrong for her to speak out at this point in the procedure- but the relationship between Central 46 and the Gotei 13 was tenuous enough as it was, and reprimanding one of the most respected and senior of the Captains really wasn't a good idea.

And besides. Technically, she was right.

He sighed.

"Very well. Ichigo Kurosaki, you were summoned to this hearing to discuss a report claiming an Arrancar was seen but not reprimanded in the town of Karakura, which you have responsibility over as substitute shinigami. You have responded that you are aware of this creature's existence and, not only do you continue to allow it to live without handing it over to the proper authorities or even informing them of it, you are also harbouring it and maintaining its safety."

There was a pause, as if he expected Ichigo to argue with this. But he said nothing, just stared up into the eyes of the judge with a coolness that was not expected.

"Were you aware that by harbouring such a creature that it would violate the laws of the Soul Society?"

Ichigo nodded.

"I knew the laws I would be breaking."

The judges's expression grew darker.

"I see. This shows not only a incapability to judge what is proper to protect the area designated to you, but also a clear and understood violation of the laws of the Soul Society that you are subject to, by your role as substitute shinigami. This is a criminal offence done with intention and disregard for the safety of those you are meant to protect. Do you understand?"

Ichigo nodded, but that clearly wasn't enough. The judge cleared his throat.

"We need confirmation of the fact that you understand this, Ichigo Kurosaki. Out loud, if you don't mind."

The frustration was building again, but Ichigo did his best to ignore it. How dare this man lecture him on the duties of protection? If it wasn't for him, none of this would even be standing- Aizen would have destroyed it all, had Ichigo not been there to stop him.

"Yes, I understand."

"Thank you. You are required to stand trial for your crimes against the laws of the Soul Society, at the nearest possibly time. You will be placed under supervision until such a time. Do you understand?"

Ichigo didn't really know what the man meant by 'supervision', but he could have a pretty good guess. He had anticipated this- after all, his hollow had been right. He was a criminal, and criminals have to face up to their crimes.

"I understand."

The judge cast a glance up at Unohana, not quite intentionally. She did nothing in response. Everything now was to the book- she couldn't argue with what was obviously right. He cleared his throat.

"We have been informed that the creature is an Arrancar, understood to be a hollow mutated by the traitor Sosuke Aizen in Hueco Mundo by the research of the Twefth Division in the Developed Spiritual Beings Regulation and by the testimony of Aizen after his defeat and capture-"

"By me."

There was no way he could have resisted slipping that one in there, no matter how much it might turn Central 46 against him in the long run. Mind you, he had a feeling that they had never really been on his side to begin with.

"Yes, that's right. By, umm, you."

There was an echoing, awkward silence for a moment as the judge shuffled through his papers. Without warning, another judge spoke, leaning forward and looking at Ichigo through shrewd eyes.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, you must understand that the nature of the Arrancar you are helping will influence your case. Will you inform us who it is you are keeping hidden?"

Ichigo was surprised at this. He thought the reason that no one had asked that question was because they already knew, but this judge seemed to be looking honestly at him, the question in earnest. Perhaps not everyone was in on it, then.

"The Arrancar currently residing in Karakura is Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."

There was an intake of breath from around the room, though Ichigo could still see a fair few people who didn't look at all surprised. So, corruption in the courtroom, was it? Why else would not everyone have access to the same information on him? There had also been some murmur of surprise from behind him- clearly this was news to most of the Captains, if not all of them, as well.

The judge that had asked him the question leaned forwards even more, her eyebrows raised.

"Do you mean to say that you have been harbouring an Espada?"

"I have, yes?"

The prosecutor, who had been silent throughout this, came forwards now, holding a large book.

"I am presenting the accused with the book detailing those creatures listed as 'most dangerous and wanted', as compiled by the thirteen Gotei forces. Page four hundred and fourteen, if you do not mind, Kurosaki."

Ichigo took the book, and opened it, flicking through the pages. Each one contained a detailed description of a person, of various races, some of which he had never heard of. Some had pictures, particularly the shinigami in the book. Many of the earlier ones had been stamped with large red words, either 'CAPTURED' or 'KILLED'. The further he got into the book, the less of these stamps he found. Clearly, there was a back log in hunting down those who had evaded the long arm of the Soul Society. He caught sight of faces that he recognised; Shinji, with much longer hair than he had now. Yoruichi, wearing an elaborate headdress. Aizen, whose face was obscured by the large stamping on the page. Captured, thank god.

And then, page four hundred and fourteen.

**Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez**. No picture provided.

Espada- Sexta.

Zanapkuto- Pantera.

Release- 'Grind'.

Mask- jawbone on right cheek.

Hollow hole- Abdomen.

Tattoo- back, right side.

Orders- Kill on sight.

Status- Unknown, presumed dead.

Not any more, Ichigo thought. Sorry, Grimmjow. They all know you're alive now.

No one said anything in the courtroom.

Ichigo started to shut the book, and a few pages flickered down, covering the description of Grimmjow. But just before he did so a picture caught his eye, and he opened the book again.

Page four hundred and thirty one.

**Karin Kurosaki**.

He closed the book, and handed it back, suddenly scared.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, you are to remain in custody until a date for your trial is set."

And with that, the hearing was over. Three unwilling guards came forward, and lead Ichigo away.


	13. Twelve

ichibanseiken – your reviews always spur me to write quicker. Thank you! And I'm sorry that 'Markings' has been to the detriment of your day to day life.

PShinjii – No pressure felt.

Junichiblue – I'm glad my plot hasn't got boring yet, I keep worrying that I'm dragging things out too much… but don't worry. Ichigo's got it covered. He knows what he's doing. I think.

Just read the latest chapter of Bleach. Oh, Kubo. Start being logical please. Although, thank you for the pretty pictures of Soifon and Jyuushiro.

**Chapter Twelve**

_Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow. Don't walk behind me, I may not lead. Walk beside me and be my friend. - Albert Camus_

Ichigo let himself be lead away. The shinigami holding his arms did not hold too tight- he rather thought that they might be a little scared of him, and he couldn't blame them for that. He was sure most people didn't go as quietly as he was doing. They walked in silence down the corridor until they came to a door; a guard nodded at them, and opened it.

Bright, evening sunlight poured in through the door, almost blinding him.

One of his escorts stepped over the threshold and turned back to him, pulling a pair of handcuffs from his sleeve.

"Ah, sorry Kurosaki-san. But we're going to need to put these on you."

Ichigo nodded, and held out his hands.

He should have expected what came next. The cuffs clicked on around his wrists and he suddenly felt like he was about to collapse, his energy pouring out of him and into the cuffs. He should have anticipated that they would use an energy suppressant, but he hadn't even thought. Too many other thoughts were going through his mind.

The guard was staring at him anxiously.

"Sorry, Kurosaki-san."

With some effort he managed to stand straight again, and nodded at the guard who, now he thought about it, looked a little familiar. It took him a moment to place the face- he had met many shinigami here and there, whilst in the Soul Society. He had just been one person out of many, running towards him when all hell had broken loose. He didn't know why he remembered this man's face, why he remembered it now of all times, but he smiled at the nervous looking man.

"You're just doing your job."

The man nodded, and tried to smile back.

He was lead away from the shadow of the tall building, towards something that looked oddly like a car. Only, of course, they didn't use cars here.

"The hell is that?"

The guard who he recognised turned to him; the other didn't appear to even hear him speak.

"It's our vehicle to transport prisoners from one location to another. We call it the Carriage."

Ichigo blinked. Some things really were the same, no matter what world you lived in. The guard opened the door for him, and he took a step up, into the dark interior of the vehicle.

From behind them, an amplified voice echoed around Central 46's building. It was crackling with static, but very clear.

"Hearing has ended. I repeat, hearing has ended. Ichigo Kurosaki has been arrested pending further investigation into the presence of an Arrancar in Karakura town. I repeat, Ichigo Kurosaki has been taken into custody. A date for the trial will be announced when set. Arrancar has been confirmed as Espada, ranking, Sexta. No plans for detention will be made until the trial of Kurosaki."

That was it then. Everything was going to change from here on in.

Now everybody knew.

Sorry, Grimmjow.

Sorry, Dad.

Even from where he was standing, Ichigo could hear the sound of a large group of people turning to one another, murmuring in, he presumed, shock. Or maybe they had all expected it, and were celebrating.

The door of the carriage shut, blocking out the light from outside. Alone, in the darkness, Ichigo closed his eyes, feeling the motion of the vehicle as it bore him towards imprisonment. What would lay before him when that door was opened again was only a guess.

* * *

"… No plans for detention will be made until the trial of Kurosaki."

Urahara put down the paper he was reading from, his expression obscured by the shadow that had fallen from his hat.

"So that's it."

He looked at Isshin, who shrugged back at him.

"It's what we expected, Urahara."

The room was silent; no one was willing to say the first word on the situation. The room was full with people; everyone who had arrived the night before Ichigo had left had turned up today as well, waiting for the news that filtered through from the Soul Society. Unexpected others had arrived as well; Tatsuki was there, after Orihime had filled her in on the situation, knowing full well how much her friend hated that Ichigo never told her about these important things. No one commented on the figure in the corner, leaning against the wall, outside of the group gathered and unwilling to join in. Not even Ishida had expected his father to arrive, without any word other than a brief greeting to Yuzu at the door. He didn't even know how his father knew about what was going on; he certainly had not told him.

But then, this result affected everyone in the town, whether they were on speaking terms or not.

Ten minutes before, Yoruichi arrived with an envelope in her mouth that had been given to her by her former Lieutenant, passed on in secret and discretion. News travelled fast, even between worlds. Written was a detailed report of what had gone on in the courtroom, and the announcement to the rest of the Soul Society. Of course, in the traditional Soifon way, there was also no hint of what people were thinking, of public opinion. Urahara had read out the official announcement that Soifon had included. It was compulsory that it was approved before being read out by the Captain's, so they knew for sure that it was accurate.

Silently, Orihime began to cry.

Ishida put a hand on her shoulder, but his head was bowed, as if in deep thought. The same things were going through everybody's mind; if Ichigo didn't fix this, then what would happen when the forces of the Soul Society began to knock on their doors, began to expose old wounds, prejudices and hatreds?

He could visualise the inside of Mayuri's labs even now, could imagine just what would happen to him if they decided to reopen the investigation into the Quincy. It would be easy to do, once they found out that he knew about Grimmjow. _The Quincy are helping the Arrancar. _A more than adequate excuse to take him, and his father, into custody. To put them through the same tortuous things that Mayuri had put his Grandfather through. To make them beg for death before the end came.

Although he had a feeling that his father would not go quietly.

If the Shinigami came to take him, would he?

Would he bow his head and hold out his wrists to be cuffed, or would he stand and fight until he couldn't even stand anymore? Or would he take the plunge himself, and kill himself before he could be captured? He couldn't imagine letting them take him away, knowing what his Grandfather had been put through by the barbaric sadism of Kurotsuchi.

To Ishida's surprise, another person started crying. He looked up, and it took him a moment to realise that Mashiro had her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking. It shocked him; the Vizards always seemed so cold, so distant, so untouched by tragedy. The rest of the group looked carved from marble, unmoving, no emotions visible on their faces. There was a slight flicker in Kensei's jaw, a tension that seemed worse than normal. Hachi wasn't present tonight. No reason had been given, but Kensei turned to Shinji and gave him a curt nod.

"I'm going to tell Hachi what happened, tell him to up the defences."

Shinji nodded back but said nothing in return. His eyes were clear, and thoughtful. He rested a hand on Mashiro's head, ruffling her hair a little.

"Go on, go with him."

She got to her feet, face red from crying, and stumbled after her former Captain without a word to anyone.

The room seemed even quieter now, the silence more oppressive, as if a heavy weight had fallen over all of them, pressing their despair around them. Ishida head a movement from behind him, and knew that his father was also leaving. Ryuuken stopped in the doorway of the living room, and looked over towards the far wall, where three figures stood. Urahara, empty envelope still in one hand, head bowed. Isshin, hands folded across his chest and frown cleaving his forehead. Then, a little apart from them, Grimmjow.

"Your son better know what he's doing, Kurosaki."

Isshin said nothing, just stared at the other man with cool eyes. They stood, regarding each other in displeasure.

"He does, don't worry."

Both men turned towards Karin, who looked as she normally did, if a little pale. Her hands were fisted at her sides.

"Ichigo wouldn't go around and put us in danger. If you all think that is what he is doing, then you clearly don't know my brother. He'd go to the end of the world to protect every person in Karakura, even those who don't like him very much. So if you're going to doubt him, get the hell out of this house. You don't deserve what he is doing for you if you think he'd risk us all."

Ryuuken stared at the girl for a long moment before bowing a small, oddly formal bow.

"I apologise. I'm sure he'll do what is right."

Karin's frown, did not lessen, but she nodded at him.

"I'll show myself out."

The tension lessened only slightly as he left the room, and Isshin ruffled his daughter's hair with pride, pulling both worried daughters into his arms. For once, the two didn't protest or push him away, just accepted the comfort of the embrace.

Yoruichi, still in cat form, settled herself on Chad's lap, digging her claws into his leg. He didn't protest at the treatment, and knew better than to try and pet her as one might do an ordinary house cat. He wondered what it was that Ichigo was thinking. He loved his friend dearly, but at the moment felt so much out of the loop. Ichigo had not confided anything in him, and knew that the only person who knew even a part of what the plan consisted of would remain resolutely silent. Grimmjow would know, but that didn't mean that he would tell.

Tessai stood, and his looming bulk drew everyone's attentions.

"If it's all the same, I intend to reinforce the protective kido weaved over the Shoten. I'll come around here tomorrow and do the same to here, if that is acceptable to you, Kurosaki-san?"

Isshin nodded.

"It would be very much appreciated, although I hope there will be no need for it."

"And Hirako-san, I will come around tomorrow evening after I am done here to help with my former Lieutenant, if you agree? It is best to make sure that all places are secure from now on. Might I add that individuals who live on their own might benefit from staying from now on with company?"

Shinji nodded.

"All eyes will be on Karakura after today. Our place is open for anyone, but they'll probably be more comfortable here or at the Shoten."

Yoruichi yawned.

"Beds have already been made up for Inoue, Ishida and Chad. And as much as you may want to keep your independence, I really do think you'd be safer not on your own."

Orihime wiped her eyes, and tried to smile. She would accept the offer, and Chad knew that he would too. Both of them turned to Ishida, who was frowning.

"I'm afraid that I won't be able to accept. But I won't stay by myself. I'll return to my family home, and stay with my father tonight. In fact, if you'll excuse me, I'll leave now."

Nobody argued with him as he left, but it was clear that people would have preferred him to stay.

Grimmjow closed his eyes, and rested his head against the wall, glad that no one had asked him to explain what Ichigo was planning on doing. For now, it was to remain their secret, until the next stage in the trial.

* * *

Ichigo's arrival at the prison was surprisingly quiet. He wasn't sure why he had been expecting cries of 'dead man walking!' or 'nothing to see here', but he had been. He anticipated crowds of eager and nosy shinigami, gathering around to witness the legendary Ichigo Kurosaki being escorted into prison. But, he supposed that the Soul Society wasn't like the human world in that regard. They didn't crowd around to watch a car crash.

The prison itself was austere, grey. He had not been driven in front of it, as he had expected, but into what he supposed must have been the prisoners entrance. The strange carriage had come into the building through huge steel doors that were now being closed behind him.

He was lead, in silence, through to a long, narrow room. He had a feeling that the mirror that covered one wall was a two-way one, but then, maybe he had just seen too many bad police films. They asked him his name, checked his identification and a sheaf of papers were handed from one of the guards who had escorted him to another.

One man stepped forward. He was tall, and lean in frame, wearing the typical shinigami uniform that seemed to hang off him, as if he had lost a lot of weight in recent times. An armband around his forearm identified him as the lead guard. Ichigo supposed that he should feel privileged, having this many guards turn out to make sure he went under lock and key securely. It looked like every guard in the place was filing into the room, all craning to catch sight of the famous Ichigo Kurosaki. Word of his imprisonment had only been announced less than half an hour before, but he had a feeling that they had been preparing for his arrival for a while. He was chewing something vigorously, and when he looked up at Ichigo, he spat something out of the corner of his mouth.

"Zanpakuto."

He had been dreading this moment ever since he had first realised that it would have to happen. He reached over his shoulder, at where the reassuring feel of the hilt of his zanpakuto always rested whenever he was in this form. It was solid, and trustworthy. Hesitantly, he pulled it off his back, and held it out to the guard with both hands.

The lead guard nodded at one of the guards flanking him, and she moved forward, and look it off him. She seemed embarrassed to do so, and nodded quickly at him as she relieved it from him.

"We'll take good care of it, I promise."

"Thank you."

The lead guard spat again.

"Search him."

Ichigo complied with every part of the rather invasive search without complaint, although not without a blush. He wasn't quite used to this level of intimacy with complete strangers. They, however, were, and the search was completed with quick detached professionalism. When it was done, the lead guard stepped forward, spat out another sunflower seed, and scowled again at Ichigo.

"Block Eight, Cell One hundred and four."

A couple of guards looked at him in surprise. One even had the courage to tug on his arm, frowning up at him in concern.

"Sir, do you really think that is wise? I know orders are to put him in Block Eight, but in one hundred and fiv-"

"Orders are orders. That's where I've been told to put him, and I'm not putting my neck on the line by disobeying."

The guard hesitated, and nodded. He took Ichigo by the arm and led him in the direction of a barred door. Another guard took his other arm, a third went into position in front of him, and a fourth behind. Clearly, no chances were being taken. As he was led through the door and into the passageway behind, the guard in front began what sounded like a very well practised speech with the mechanical voice of a man who has had to say the same thing too many times.

"You will be permitted to continue wearing your shinigami robes until the time of your trial. Meals will be brought to you at eight and at four. Water will be brought at those times. Guards patrol the prison at all hours of the day. Are there any questions?"

Ichigo shook his head, but then thought of something.

"Actually, is there any chance of seeing a copy of that book you shinigami have, of enemies?"

There was a nod of assent.

Ichigo had heard a little of the prison from Urahara, and had been under the impression that most of it was underground. However, he soon realised that was not the case. The entire east face of the prison, he was informed, was actually an enormous cliff face, although the windows has been reinforced by the kido corps and no one had ever managed to break through them before, not that Ichigo was planning on doing so now. Block Eight was one of those whose cells featured windows, and was reserved primarily for prisoners pending trials who had not shown any dangerous tendencies. He supposed he ought to be flattered, that they were not at the stage of believing him to be dangerous and crazy enough to lock away underground.

He peered with interest at the door for cell one hundred and five, but couldn't see anything through the small, barred window in the door. He wasn't sure how he would manage to find out who his neighbour was any time soon, but that wasn't high on his list of priorities yet.

The cell door was locked behind him without a word, but less than five minutes later the letterbox shaped slat in the door was drawn back, and a book pushed through.

He flicked through it, reading with interest some of the enemies that the shinigami had fought throughout the centuries. Most of the earlier entries were stamped with 'CAPTURED', 'KILLED' or, occasionally, 'DECEASED', but even of the very oldest there were still some that were not confirmed one way or another. It was interesting to see how many enemies were still out there. He flicked through the book until he reached about a century previous, and read the entries there with interest. One in particular caught his eye. The image provided showed a man he knew very well, looking younger and happier than Ichigo had ever seen him, without any sardonic expression or shadowed eyes. He was wearing a Captain's haori.

Kisuke Urahara.

Shinigami. Former Captain of the Twelfth Division of the Gotei Thirteen, in charge of the Research Institute. Lieutenant- Hiyori Sarugaki (page three hundred and sixty).

Zanpakuto- Benihime.

Release- 'Awaken'.

Orders- Arrest on sight.

Status- believed to be residing in the Human world.

Huh. He hadn't known that Hiyori had been Urahara's Lieutenant when they had both been in the in the Gotei. No one had ever mentioned that to him- he supposed that he didn't know why they would. He turned the page, and read through the rest of the Vizards, staring at the pictures of the people he knew from hundred years ago. Yoruichi, Tessai. He was surprised to find out that Tessai had been a Captain of the Kido Corps, although he should have known that, given the man's talent for kido. Then on, through years, modern entries. Aizen. Gin. Tousen. Arrancar, as they first became known to the Soul Society. Page four hundred and fourteen and Grimmjow's name again, past the rest of the Espada, red stamps flashing past his eyes. 'KILLED'.

And then his own name. A picture of himself, slightly blurred as if he had started to turn his head to speak to someone. He is slightly smiling, as if a friend had just appeared. It was strange to read about himself in this way. All these details on his life. And then on the next page, Chad. Ishida. Inoue. And then, on the next page, the last page that had anything written on it: Karin Kurosaki.

The picture of her was from a distance, and she was looking half over her shoulder, so only part of her face was in the shot. She was frowning, but that was her normal expression.

Human. Sister of Ichigo Kurosaki (page four hundred and fifty one) and daughter of Isshin Kurosaki, former shinigami.

Is suspected of having shinigami powers, although presence of zanpakuto has not been confirmed.

Name and release unknown.

Orders- observe. Upon any questionable actions, arrest for questioning.

_Shit_, he thought. Karin. You really need to start watching your back. I should have known you weren't being careful enough.

He closed the book, and put his head in his hands. His little sister. He supposed to be here to protect his family, and he hadn't even been able to keep Karin's powers a secret from the Soul Society. Why hadn't he made her train with Urahara more? Why hadn't he thought about the best way to keep her spiritual pressure under wraps? Why had he believed her when she had looked at him, looked at him with those dark, adult eyes and told him that everything was fine? She kept his gaze as if she were twenty years his senior, as if she knew everything in the world, and he had trusted that. But hadn't he thought he knew everything when he was her age? Oh, Karin. Yuzu. Dad. How could he go back to them and tell them that the Soul Society were watching them, that Karin had already earned a place in this book before she had even learnt her zanpakuto's name yet?

He was startled out of his reverie by a slight noise from the cell next door. Nothing much, just a slight dragging sound, as if someone had stumbled slightly and their foot had slipped across the stone floor. He stared at the walls, wondering how he could find out who was next door, wondering who else was awaiting trial.

His eyes scanned the stonework, until he found what he was looking for; a grate. He had spent hours talking about these prisons with Urahara before he had come here, wondering and curious about what he was going to see. He had been told about the vents between each cell that had been put in place when this had originally built. Not many people knew, Urahara told him, but the prison systems were actually the barracks for the original shinigami, before enough of them had been found to form divisions that required their own buildings. Only then did they decide that the heavy stone walls lined with defensive kido to keep attackers out would be equally good for keeping criminals _in._

Ichigo moved slowly over to the grate. He had to stand on the metal-framed cot that served as a bed to be high enough to see through it.

He closed one eye, and put his face against the stonework.

It took him a moment to work out what he was seeing.

An eye, up close, staring right back at him.

With a start he jolted backwards, and almost fell.

Through the grate a familiar voice whispered.

"Hello, Kurosaki."

"Halibell!"

A slight noise came through, an exhale of breath, and he had the feeling that, if she had a normal mouth, she might have been smiling a little.

"How have you found yourself here, Kurosaki? When I heard the guards muttering about a new arrival and an Arrancar in Karakura, I expected the former Sexta."

Ichigo shrugged, although she couldn't see.

"They called me in for an inquiry about it, and I admitted it."

For the first time, he thought that he could hear shock in her voice.

"What?"

"There was no point lying about it. They would have found out one way or another, at some point. So then I was arrested and thrown in here, pending a trial."

She moved back slightly from the grate, so that he could see both of her eyes and a little of her face. She looked tired, he thought, but better than she had been when they had seen her falling from the sky, chased by the inhabitants of Hueco Mundo. Inoue had healed her then, and it didn't seem like she had sustained any serious damage since.

"They will find you guilty."

Ichigo nodded.

"I know."

"You should have run."

"And spent the rest of my life hounded by the Soul Society? Have my friends here be forced to turn against me? Leave my friends at home to their mercy?" He shook his head. "Running has never been an option for me."

"Grimmjow could have run."

Ichigo didn't respond, for a moment. Halibell watched him through the grate, watched that open, honest face deliberate with itself.

"We talked about it, but he didn't want to. Said you couldn't play with fire and not expect to get burnt."

She raised an eyebrow.

"I see."

"But what about you, how did they get you?"

"They caught up with me. They had probably been tracking me for a while; no doubt I must have passed too close to one of their sensors at some point, when I was fleeing."

"And you didn't fight, either. Or run."

She stared at him, hard, for a moment.

"Do not believe that we are the same, Ichigo Kurosaki. We are nothing alike."

They were interrupted by a noise in the corridor. Both of them moved from the grate with speed, just before the slot in Ichigo's door was pulled open and a tray was pushed through. Food, he hadn't thought about food all day. He had barely had anything at breakfast with Rukia, and already that seemed like weeks ago. To his surprise, he realised that he was hungry. The slot slammed shut as he took the tray.

There was a noise from Halibell's cell, but it sounded as if the door was being opened. He put the food on the floor and jumped up on the bed again, as quietly as he could. He looked through the grate and for the first time could see the cell that Halibell was in. It was much the same as his. The lead guard was in there with her, and a third shinigami seemed to be injecting something into her arm. Halibell had her back to him, and he couldn't see her expression, but from the dark bruises that littered her arm he could see that this was not the first time she had been injected.

He looked a little closer; there was something around her wrist.

With a feeling of slight sickness, he realised that she was chained to the floor. Her hands were chained together, her ankles in manacles attached to great iron fixtures in the stonework, with enough slack to let her move around the room as much as she needed to. They were keeping her chained up in here.

The lead guard spat a seed, and they left her.

She stood in the centre of the floor without moving as the door was locked and the sound of the guards gradually disappeared. As soon as silence fell she spoke, without turning around. Her voice was not bitter as he expected, but oddly blank.

"Seen enough, Kurosaki?"

"The hell are they doing to you?"

She shook her head slightly, as you would to a foolish child.

"They are feeding me. I am an Arrancar, Ichigo Kurosaki, nothing more than a glorified hollow. I need spiritual power to live, not food. This is the only way they can without risking anything. Controlled doses at controlled times. Enough to keep me alive, not enough to make me a threat."

"That's monstrous."

She turned, and her eyes seemed to be on fire.

"At least they are feeding me! Do you have any idea what it is like to be kept in darkness, without sustenance, as your power is drained from you? Do you know what it is like to starve, Ichigo Kurosaki? No, you do not, so do not judge them for what they do. At least they do not let me die here, at least they keep me alive, even if it is only for a public execution in the name of justice."

She stared at him a moment longer, with those eyes that seemed so livid and yet so tired, until Ichigo couldn't stand it any more.

"I am not going to let you die here. You have my word."

She shook her head.

"You are just a child, Kurosaki."

* * *

"After reading the appeal from Captain Ukitake we have decided to grant the Captain's Jury on the trial of Ichigo Kurosaki, on the basis of the Captain's fair knowledge of the suspect and the traditional court procedures in cases such as these. Trial will begin eight am tomorrow morning. Are all Captain's free at this time?"

There was a murmur of assent from the line of Captains, and one stepped forward.

"The members of Central46 acknowledge Captain Shunsui Kyouraku."

"Esteemed men and women, I wish to appeal for the addition of Lieutenant's to the Jury for the trial of substitute shinigami, Ichigo Kurosaki."

"For what reason?"

"I believe that the Lieutenant's of the Gotei Forces have knowledge of this man as much as the Captain's do."

The leaders of Central46 glared down at him from their bench, but court procedure meant that, as they had approved a jury of Captain's, it was their choice to allow their Lieutenant's to join them.

"Step forward all who agree with the proposal put forward by Captain Kyouraku."

Captain Unohana stepped forward immediately, as did Captain Ukitake. After a brief pause, Captain Kuchiki moved forward, almost at the same time as Captain Hitsugaya. With a grin, knowing he was making up the majority of the ten, Kenpachi took his place next to them. The men and women on the bench sighed, and rolled their eyes.

"Motion passed."

* * *

Early the next morning, as the dawn sunlight was only just tracing lines across the sky, a butterfly came in through his window. He didn't know how it had got through the levels of security that surrounded the prison, but then he had a feeling that Urahara didn't like to live with defences that he couldn't get through himself, and after all, he had once been in charge of the prison systems in the Soul Society. It looked just like any of the many butterflies that the Soul Society used to deliver messages, only instead of speaking, it folded in on itself, until it was just a speck, and then expanded into a sheet of paper. Ichigo tried to touch it, but his hand went right through it. It just hovered there in the air, and when Ichigo waved a hand behind it, he could see a faint outline of his hand through it.

The first section was unmistakable Urahara's.

_Ichi!~_

_You do like causing us trouble. But don't worry, we're all keeping an eye on the situation. We haven't forgotten what you told us, but you know we will have to interfere if things do not go the way that you planned them. We have a lot of influence in the Soul Society still, us old criminals and outcasts, and you have plenty of friends who are willing to help you. Don't forget- you're not alone._

_K.U._

He frowned. Just what was Urahara planning? He had expressly told them not to interfere, that he had it all under control, but he had a feeling that his friends were not listening. He had assumed that, if things got ahead of themselves at home, that Grimmjow would tell them the plan- he had explained that this was what he should do to Grimmjow, but in hindsight, it might not be that likely that Grimmjow would listen. Damn.

The paper was starting to fade a little. The next part of it made him smile.

_Son,_

_Karin's been in a foul mood since you left and Yuzu keeps burning the soup. Come back soon. Grimm won't play cards with me and Kisuke won't let me leave the house. Grimm let it slip that you wrote to Captain Ukitake before you left- sensible. He's a good man._

_We all miss you!_

_Dad, Yuzu and Karin._

The paper was fading even more now, nearly gone entirely, and it was only then that he saw the last part. Not words, not even letters, but a number, written in the messy and uneven hand of someone not used to writing.

He stared at Grimmjow's '6' with a smile until the note had vanished entirely.

A knock at the door jumped him out of his reverie. A low voice of a guard came through, announcing in an officious voice that the next stage of his trial had been arranged for that morning. He stood on the bed and whispered through the grate when he was sure the shinigami had gone.

"Halibell, did you hear?"

He could see her, sat on the bed, could see her nodding. For the first time he could see all of the room, and as the first rays of the morning sunlight came through the cell window, they fell on the far corner of the room, where some of the stonework had cracked and earth showed through. A small, green shoot was sprouting from those tiny cracks, pushing its way up through impossibility to feel the sunlight.

Halibell turned to him, and saw him looking.

"The idiot is always spitting seeds everywhere. He never looks where they end up."

Ichigo didn't reply, and Halibell sighed, to herself.

"You can plan ahead, Kurosaki, but it is always hard to see what is going to happen. But, I hope this morning goes well for you."

He nodded, and tried to smile. Just as he was about to step down from the bed she said something else, in a lower tone of voice, something that sounded almost a little sad.

"Did you mean what you said, yesterday?"

"I did. I wont let them hurt you, Halibell."

He thought, for a moment, that he could hear her laughing.

"Thank you, Ichigo Kurosaki. Thank you for trying to be my friend."


	14. Thirteen

I am very tired, so I apologise in advance for any typos.

**Chapter Thirteen**

_We know more about war that we know about peace, more about killing that we know about living_. - Omar Bradley

"We are here today to bring court proceedings against Ichigo Kurosaki for crimes against the Seireitei and the institutions of the Gotei and Central 46. An appeal was made for Captain's jury and was granted, as was a second appeal for the jury to be extended to include Lieutenants of the Gotei 13."

The handcuffs felt heavy around his wrists. They tired him out. He had left his cell four hours ago, and had spent three hours and fifty five minutes of that time being scanned, prodded, ignored and insulted. They had taken his blood pressure and had given him something in pill form, to 'keep him calm'. He wasn't sure what exactly they thought that he was going to do. It hadn't made him feel calm, at all- just exhausted.

Apparently the sedative was supposed to suppress his powers, and the dosage was altered according to how strong your spiritual powers were. The drug felt pretty strong to him. Maybe that was supposed to be a compliment. They still hadn't taken his handcuffs off, even with the drug.

He was pretty sure that the sedative shouldn't have been as strong as it was.

That worried him, but his worries were a little blurry now.

He hadn't thought that the Soul Society would have used a tactic as underhand as this.

Eventually, they had led him to the central chamber, back to the room he had been in not too long ago. Feeling slightly groggy, they sat him down on a steel chair in the centre of the room, facing the marble bench, behind which sat the stern eyed leaders of Central 46. This was where he sat now, the cold metal biting into his skin through his shinigami robes. He closed his eyes.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, substitute shinigami of the town of Karakura, you have been brought here today to face charges of harbouring a fugitive in your own town, a creature known as Arrancar by the Developed Spiritual Beings Regulation, laid out by these Gotei forces and documented by the Twelfth Division. How do you plead to these charges?"

He forced his head up, opened his eyes.

The room blurred in and out of focus.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, how do you plead?"

He was vaguely aware of people behind him, a murmur of concern.

"Guilty."

A sigh from the group sat behind him, a collective exhale, not of surprise.

"Ichigo Kurosaki has pleaded guilty. There is no legal precedent to this crime- Ichigo Kurosaki is a substitute shinigami, and as such the extent to which he is expected to follow the laws and ordinances of the Seireitei is unclear. Certainly he never signed the oaths that a shinigami traditionally signs as they graduate from the Academy. However, it is clear that Ichigo Kurosaki was well aware of our standing on the matter, and can not claim ignorance."

Ichigo felt his head fall forward, and forced himself to bring it up again.

"The venerable board of Central 46 have reached the decision that a vote will first be put to the jury of peers to decide whether or not punishment is required for Ichigo Kurosaki's actions. The trial will proceed from that point onwards."

A murmur again. Ichigo blinked, slowly, and felt his power rush up to meet the sedative in his bloodstream.

He tried hard to focus, but his attention kept getting drawn back into his mind. He could hear his hollow screaming, but it sounded muffled, as if the inner world of his mind was stuffed full of cotton wool.

He was so tired.

Someone spun his chair around, to face the jury. He struggled to recognise the people in front of him, even though they were all faces he knew. They blurred in and out of focus. The worried and bemused expressions of the faces of the Lieutenants and Captains stared back at him, but he didn't notice their concern. The fight in his head was going on again. His body felt on fire, his veins and arteries burning as power fought medication.

"First we will take the results from the Captains, starting with the First Division. Will the Captain please step forward if they believe that Ichigo Kurosaki deserves appropriate punishment for his actions and his crimes against the Soul Society."

_Focus, Ichigo._

_Ichigo, listen. Pay attention._

I'm trying. I'm trying so hard.

_Try harder._

He screwed up his eyes, as the Captain Commander stepped forward. Someone else stepped forward next to him, but his vision had blurred again. He fought to clear his mind… Soifon, it must have been Soifon. One followed two. There was no three.

He tried to breathe.

Ichigo couldn't see it, but Unohana shook her head. Four. No one to cast a vote for Five, so next it was Six.

Byakuya stepped forward, his face expressionless and impossible to read.

_Fair, Ichigo. You committed a crime. Accept your punishment like a man. Don't blame them for it. Crime brings punishment._

Who are you, voice?

_I am you, Ichigo. Pay attention._

Next to Byakuya, Komamura had stepped forward as well, and next to him, Shunsui was shaking his head. Toushiro moved forward, facing forward but not meeting the eye of anyone in the room. Ichigo squinted again- behind Shiro, Matsumoto was scowling.

The blurred vision began to clear, but a dizziness set in, in its stead. He was finding it hard to remember to breathe.

Laughter cut through his mind; a short bark of dry mirth. A deep voice, one he recognised.

Kenpachi.

He was laughing at Mayuri, it seemed, whilst being reprimanded by a member of Central 46. Kenpachi hadn't stepped forward, and with his nose in the air, Mayuri did. Jyuushiro, next to him, shook his head.

Ichigo felt his mind starting to clear slightly as his power fought down the sedative in his blood.

"Lieutenants, stand forward if you believe that Kurosaki should be punished."

With his hands behind his back, Sasakibe stepped promptly forward. Right after him, Omaeda followed suit. After slight hesitation, Kira of the third division also took a step forward. Ichigo began to count in his head.

Isane shook her head, but Momo stepped forward. Renji looked torn. For a moment he started to move forward, lifting one foot; almost as soon as he started his face creased into a frown, and he stepped backwards again, staying where he was. Iba suffered no such hesitation, and neither did Nanao, although her Captain looked unhappy about it Both moved forwards. Matsumoto stood firm, where she was, as did Yachiru, who was perched on Kenpachi's shoulders.

Nine to thirteen.

Crime befits punishment.

Ichigo let his head rest back against his chair. It was exactly what he had expected.

"The jury has voted that Ichigo Kurosaki is culpable of guilt and therefore punishment. There will be a recess whilst the Central 46 deliberate on the matter."

The murmuring grew slightly louder.

* * *

Outside the courtroom, Renji was almost jumping up and down in aggravation. Whilst Central 46 conferred, Ichigo had been transferred back to his prison cell and the Captains and Lieutenants kept isolated from external influence, even from each other, which meant that for the last hour and a half, he and his Captain had been sat in silence in a narrow, windowless room, waiting for the court proceedings to go ahead. Captain Kuchiki seemed as calm as ever, but Renji was far from feeling at peace. He couldn't shake the image of Ichigo in that chair from his mind, the image of his friend slumped forward, looking ill and defeated. Guilt was gnawing at him, and he couldn't get rid of the feeling that all of this was his fault.

He was so caught up in his worries that he didn't even notice that Byakuya was watching him, a tiny frown settling on his face.

"Renji."

The Lieutenant looked up, face pale.

"Do not punish yourself. You did the only thing that you could."

Renji shook his head.

"It doesn't feel that way, Captain. He looked like they'd already taken his soul, out there. I thought he'd be stronger, he seemed so powerful when he went in there the first time. He's so stubborn- I've never seen him look defeated before, even when he's been cut to shit in battle and it looks like he's going to lose."

Byakuya closed his eyes for a moment.

"But, Renji. Does he ever lose?"

There was a silence, and after a moment, Renji shook his head.

Because it was true. Ichigo never lost. Even when it looked like the battle was already over, even when everyone believed that he already had. He never lost, not at anything.

He was Ichigo Kurosaki.

"The reason, Renji, that he looked the way he did, is because he was drugged."

Renji's head shot up, indignant and bewildered.

"What? Why?"

"This is the first court procedure that you have been present at, and I should have made sure you were informed on the normal practises before hand. If Central 46 decides that the accused is of sufficient danger to those present, and if they fear that the predicted verdict will enrage them, they have shinigami from Division Twelve administer a drug that disables the victims ability to use their spiritual power."

Renji's face was still pale, but now his jaw was tight with rage.

"That's monstrous."

"From the same research came the seals that stronger shinigami wear in the human world to prevent them from being noticeable. They used the same medication when Aizen stood trial here, not too long ago. The drug is also used in the capture of those a danger to the Soul Society, and it is also used in delicate surgeries on shinigami, when there is a chance that the spiritual power may inadvertently attack a surgeon after the patient has been put under anaesthetic, as a subconscious mechanism. It has many uses."

Renji shook his head.

"But Ichigo's not like that, he wouldn't attack us!"

The frown grew slightly deeper on Byakuya's face.

"But they don't know that."

He finally looked at his Captain, and saw the expression there, a rare moment when his guard was down and he was readable to those who knew him. Renji looked away again, and thanked providence that Byakuya had not asked him why he had not stepped forward to vote to punish Ichigo, even though it had been him who had turned him in. He couldn't explain it to himself, let alone to another.

"They're scared of him, aren't they?"

Byakuya nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"They have good reason to be."

* * *

Back in his cell, Ichigo could feel the drug slowly wearing off. He tried to push it out of his system, but it felt impossible. He lay back on his bed, and spoke towards the grate in the wall that separated his and Halibell's cell.

"You could have warned me that they'd drug me like that."

The voice that echoed back to him was mocking.

"Would you have let them do it, if I'd have told you what it felt like?"

There was no response to that. Of course he wouldn't have done, and if he hadn't, they would have charged him with something else on top of everything. That still didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

"Did the verdict go as you predict?"

Ichigo nodded, focused on the drug in his system, then realised that she couldn't see him.

"Yeah, though more people voted not to punish me than I expected."

Halibell sounded surprised.

"I see. I had anticipated everyone voting to punish you."

Ichigo shrugged.

"Me too, to be honest."

"This is a good sign then, Ichigo Kurosaki. It means that you have friends still, on this side."

He laughed.

"Most of the people who voted to punish me I would class as a friend, or someone whose back I would have in a fight. The difference is whether they will stand up when the important question comes to them."

There was quite a long silence from the cell next to his. Ichigo began to believe that she was not going to say anything at all, when her voice finally came through.

"Are you scared, Ichigo Kurosaki?"

He closed his eyes, not knowing how to answer.

"Are you confident?"

He was saved from having to answer by the sound of a key in a lock. At first he thought that it was his own door, but after a moment realised that it wasn't; it was Halibell's. He heard the clink of her chains as she moved back from the door and wondered what was going on. It was not time for her 'meals', nor was she supposed to receive any visitors. There were not many supporters of the Espada around the Soul Society that might pop in for a chat, after all.

From the grate he heard a man clear his voice.

"Tia Halibell, of the Espada?"

He held his breath as she responded that yes, that was she.

"The court of Central 46 has drawn a conclusion from your trial. They have ruled you guilty of murder, conspiring to overthrow the established order of the known worlds, and conspiring with the traitor Sosuke Aizen. Punishment for these crimes will be death by public execution, in three days time."

Ichigo felt a scream rise up in his throat, bitter like bile, but swallowed it down. Halibell said nothing and the man seemed to hesitate, as if he had been expecting something more. After a minute of awkwardness, he left the room, and the door closed again.

The key turned once more in the lock; footsteps faded away down the corridors.

"The die was cast, Ichigo Kurosaki. I long ago accepted that one day it would come to this conclusion."

The air felt thick as he tried to breathe.

"I wont let it happen."

She laughed at him, again. Softly this time, with a hint of bitterness and regret.

"But what can you do, Ichigo Kurosaki, in these walls of stone? You are just as much in this web as I. Flies, caught. Fight too much to save me and the spider may pay attention too soon to what you are planning."

"I don't care."

Her voice was stronger now. He heard her get to her feet, the clink of her chains unnaturally loud in the silence.

"You should. You have something to live for."

"You have something to live for as well! It's called the future!"

Without warning her eyes appeared at the grate, glaring down at him as her voice hissed through the bone of her jaw, through the sharp points of unnatural teeth.

"Let me die, Kurosaki! To survive now would only mean a lifetime of pain. They would never let me go, never let me rest. I have nothing left to do in this life but die to show that justice still exists!"

She vanished as soon as she had appeared, and he found himself responding to nothing.

"You're a coward!"

Halibell did not respond, and tiredness stole upon him.

He stared up at the great blocks of stone that made the ceiling, and made a promise to himself.

He had done that a lot, recently.

One of these days, he knew that he would have kept to them all.

He thought that he might have fallen asleep; the sound of footsteps in the corridor made him start to, as if he had dropped off. A glance out of the window showed that the sun was low in the sky, although it had been noon the last time he had looked.

The footsteps came closer, and there was the recognisable sound of a ring of keys being pulled out of a pocket.

"Can't you go any faster?"

Ichigo sat up, and immediately regretted it. There was a blinding pain, and for a moment his vision went black. He muttered an expletive under his breath as it gradually subsided. The pain was almost enough to cancel out his shock at the voice outside, but as the door opened it came back over him like a wave.

"Hey, Ichigo."

"The hell are you doing here?"

"Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

Ichigo stared at the bulk of the Captain of the Eighth Division in bewilderment. Shunsui stared back at him, awaiting a response. When it became clear that he wasn't going to get one, he shrugged his broad shoulders and slid to the floor of the cell, propped up against the wall.

"I don't have too long here, so I'm sorry. It's not a great social call."

Ichigo found his tongue again.

"You don't tend to get any, when you're in prison."

Shunsui nodded, a smile at the corner of his mouth. His hat dipped forward and hid his eyes, and Ichigo was reminded uncannily of Urahara. Even though the two were different in some ways, now that he thought about he realised that in _most _ways, they were very similar, and it wasn't just the hats.

"How did you get in?"

"I'm a Captain of the Gotei 13, Ichigo. If I ask, they let me. And if they don't, then I make them."

Ichigo nodded, slowly, and continued to stare at him.

"I thought the Captains had to stay in the Central building during a trial."

Shunsui winked, and raised a finger to his lips.

"There is always someone who leaves a door open somewhere."

"So, why are you here?"

The Captain threw his arms wide.

"To chat, of course!"

"I thought you said that this wasn't a social visit."

"Do you mind if I smoke?"

Ichigo shook his head, and Shunsui pulled a pipe from a pocket concealed somewhere on his person. From another pocket emerged tobacco, and Ichigo fidgeted impatiently as Shunsui began slowly filling his pipe, in silence.

"Are you freaking done yet?"

Shunsui did not reply, but simply shook his head. After a very laborious wait, that felt far longer than it was, he was finally done. He lay his pipe across his knee, put his tobacco away, folded his arms across his chest, and looked Ichigo squarely in the eye.

"I've been sent on behalf of a group of people who have your interests at heart and who have contact with your family."

Ichigo blinked.

"How?"

"The how is not important. What is important is that you need to understand that what you are trying to accomplish cannot, and will not, be possible."

Ichigo found himself scowling.

"Says who?"

Shunsui looked at him levelly.

"You have no idea what is going on within the walls of Central 46. You whole plan is based on the belief that they will play fair, and that they will agree to your terms because we owe you a favour. Which is true, but they do not care about it. I think I understand what you are planning to do, but if you deconstruct it you will see how it falls apart. It happened today, didn't it?"

Ichigo stared back, his face colouring.

"It seems that you have told your friends and family very little about what you are planning, but it is enough, in fragments. Your father told me what you had planned to say today, what you had planned to establish. But you hadn't anticipated the sedative, and trust me, that is not the worst thing that they are planning to throw at you."

He found himself concerned as he watched Ichigo's shoulders slump, his face darken. The boy didn't know how much of a mess he looked, the sedative wearing off, leaving dark circles around his bloodshot eyes and an unpleasant sallow texture to his skin. He looked young, alone in this large cell. For a moment Shunsui had to resist the urge to reach out and embrace the boy.

"All I'm here to tell you, Ichigo, is that there are those out there who want to help you. And I want to ask you, when the time comes, to let them help you."

He nodded, mutely, missing the worried expression on Shunsui's face as he stood to leave.

* * *

Hours passed inside the courtrooms and antechambers of Central 46. Ironically, the detention of Ichigo Kurosaki had actually sped up the processing of other crimes and punishments, as they were demoted away from the central courtroom to smaller, localised bodies of the forty six members: it was part of the reason why Halibell's case had been concluded with more speed than anticipated.

Renji and Byakuya sat, in the same room. Renji had been called out twice- once to repeat his original statement as part of the bureaucratic framework of the case. Byakuya had been summoned to give a statement on the reliability of his Lieutenant's testimony (which seemed slightly redundant, since Ichigo had admitted that it was true), and then Renji had once more been asked to present himself to the board, to answer questions.

He did have to wonder if it was only himself and his Captain who had been forced to stay here all of the day. He knew that they were all supposed to, but the ideal of the Gotei forces losing all of their leadership, even if just for a day, was not very practical. And he knew full well that the Captain Commander got very annoyed when anyone tried to make him do anything he didn't want to. For that matter, the idea of them keeping Kenpachi and Yachiru like this was laughable, as well.

He was starting to get really, really annoyed by the formal procedure and the long hours of waiting. Clearly, when the Central 46 convened for a couple of hours, they actually meant a couple of days. He was sure that the evening must have been drawing it: would they be allowed to return home to sleep, or would they be forced to stay here, on these uncomfortable wooden benches?

Even his Captain was beginning to show signs of strain.

Renji almost jumped when a discreet knock at the door broke the silence of the room. A shinigami slipped through the door, bowing respectfully at the two of them.

"If you would care to follow me back to the central courtroom, they are about to announce the verdict."

The guilt came back in a wave, building in his mouth. For a moment, he thought he might even be sick, but the weight of a reassuring hand on his shoulder distracted him. Surprised, he turned to Byakuya. His Captain did not look at him, but as he removed his hand from Renji his voice was slightly warmer than usual.

"You did the right thing, Renji. I am proud of you for doing so."

He nodded, and Byakuya glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

"And I know that, whatever the verdict, Ichigo Kurosaki will still count you as a friend."

To Renji's surprise, those words actually made him feel a little better.

* * *

The news of the first vote came back to Karakura town via the usual pipelines of information, and the core contingent at home received it with little surprise. They had not believed that they would be lucky enough that Ichigo would be able to get a majority in such a vote.

Isshin rubbed his forehead, tired.

"The usual suspects, then."

Kisuke nodded.

"I didn't think that Rangiku would vote for punishment. Jyuushiro and Shunsui, also. I had wondered about Kenpachi, but it seems that the idea of anyone else getting to fight Ichigo didn't appeal to him."

Grimmjow was scrutinising the list- though his ability to read was limited, he recognised the numbers for each division, and was scanning his recollections of the shinigami to see what faces he could put to the names. He poked at the two names next to the symbol for four.

"Who're they?"

Kisuke glanced at where he was pointing.

"Retsu Unohana and her Lieutenant. She is Captain of the Fourth Division- a good friend of Jyuushiro Ukitake's, and of mine."

Grimmjow nodded, appeased by the information.

"What did Abarai vote for?"

A shadow of a smile ghosted across Isshin's face.

"He voted not to punish. Even after turning the two of you in, he didn't want Ichigo punished."

He scowled.

"Makes no fucking sense."

Kisuke rolled his eyes under the shadow of his hat.

"Renji's young: he is deeply loyal to the Soul Society and its laws, and couldn't bear not to do the right thing by them. But, at this juncture, he couldn't bear to not to do the right thing by his friend. He is a man of principle, but principle is never easy."

There was a knocking at the door, and Isshin stood to get it. People had been coming all day, in and out, waiting for any news. There was little to give them in way of information or reassurance. They had to wait for Soifon to pass a message, for Yoruichi to bring it back, so there was a lag between events and them actually finding out what had happened.

Isshin came back through the door, followed by Inoue, who was teary eyed.

"Has it come through?"

Kisuke nodded, and passed her the list.

"They voted first whether or not Ichigo would be culpable for punishment for his actions. The result was that he should, but not by as high a majority as I had expected."

He flashed a smile at Isshin.

"To be completely honest, I had thought that we would only get Jyuu and Shunsui."

Tears began to run down Inoue's cheeks. The three men looked away, uncomfortable and unsure how to react to her, none of them feeling close enough to her to be able to offer any comfort or conciliation. Her sobs were quiet, but audible in the silence of the room.

"I… I just can't believe this is all happening."

She reached out, and took hold of Grimmjow's arm.

"How can you all be so brave?"

He blinked at her, face impassive. It wasn't bravery that kept their heads high, it wasn't bravery that stopped them from wallowing in sadness and concern.

It was necessity.

She let go of his arm to rub her eyes, but with a small cry flung herself against him, sobbing into his chest. Grimmjow would have stepped backwards and away from her, but had been leaning against the wall at the time, and found himself unfortunately pinned as Inoue cried on him. He found it intensely uncomfortable- not just the proximity of another person that wasn't Ichigo, which he didn't enjoy anyway, and not just the tears. His main concern was that this girl was leaning on him as if he were a friend, as if he wasn't someone who had tortured her not too long ago, in many ways.

And yet, here she was. Crying on him in trust.

She pulled away, her face red. Her voice was lowered, so that only he could hear her.

"I'm glad, after all, that he chose you. He is so strong, and looks after so many people, he needs someone who he can rely on, someone far stronger than I am."

She rested her head once more on his chest, her hand flat against his torso, fingers tracing the edge of his hollow hole. Her voice was sincere, warm as she spoke to him.

"I'm glad that you are the one for him, Grimmjow. I'm glad that you love him."

She darted away from him, back across the room, tears falling thicker now. She ran from the room without excusing herself, leaving three bewildered men behind her.

The assembled men and women stared up at the board of the Cental 46 with a mixture of concern, confusion and acceptance. They had been told that they were being summoned back to hear the verdict on Ichigo Kurosaki's punishment, not that they would be voting on the decision.

* * *

"So to repeat: in the same manner as we voted last time, you shall step forward if you agree with the punishment, and remain in position if you disagree. This time, if the respective Lieutenant will step forward after their Captain, rather than taking the two groups separately. Might we remind you all that this is the normal punishment for a shinigami found to be breaking these laws. If you would begin, Captain-Commander. They are _your _laws, after all."

There were not many days when the Captain-Commander felt old, but this was one of them. That last line was very deliberate- even though he felt in his heart and his head that the punishment was wrong for this crime, he had made these laws, and he had made them for a reason. To make an exception just on one would make a mockery of all.

With a heavy heart, he stepped forwards.

Next to him, his Lieutenant stepped forwards, ever loyal.

There was silence and stillness from the Second Division. Omaeda glanced uneasily at his Captain, but she just shook her head. She supported the laws of the Soul Society, but not on this one. She had a stake in this.

Lieutenant Kira did not move. Next to him, the Fourth Division stayed in place, and after them, the Lieutenant of the Fifth, whose face was looking rather pale.

Eyes turned to Byakuya Kuchiki, expecting him to step forward. He raised a delicate and meaningful eyebrow at his Lieutenant, and remained in place. Renji breathed outwards in relief, and stayed put.

Komamura stepped forward, but behind him his Lieutenant seemed to be unsure. Iba was biting his lip, looking at the ground and shuffling his feet. He seemed about to step forward when his Captain turned to look back at him, with a small smile.

"Do what you think is right, Iba."

With a heavy exhale of relief, Iba stayed put.

Shunsui folded his arms across his chest and shook his head as the eyes of Central 46 turned next to him. Nanao stood next to him, arms behind her back, her face impassive. The Lieutenant of the Ninth Division also remained put, fingering the hilt of his zanpakuto in uncharacteristic nervousness.

Captain Hitsugaya not only remained in place, but shot a cold gaze to the board. Matsumoto folded her arms across her chest antagonistically, angry at the whole courtroom. When eyes turned to Kenpachi he laughed at them, Yachiru on his shoulders, and took a step backwards.

"I'm getting as far away from agreeing with you idiots as I can."

Mayuri stepped forward with a contented purr, Nemu beside him. No one was convinced that he was agreeing for the sake of the laws of the Soul Society. A true mercenary heart, he had already figured what he would get out of the deal.

With a polite cough, Jyuushiro did not move.

"The voting has been completed, and the jury had voted against the proposed punishment by five votes to seventeen."

There was a murmur from the shadowed figures of Central 46 sat around the room, but it was not as concerned a murmur as Jyuushiro had expected. To his surprise, he thought he even caught a tinkle of laughter, and his heart sunk.

"An appeal was put forward by a member of the Central 46 that they also be allowed to have an individual vote per person on this matter, rather than the overall vote of Central 46 be cast as one. In light of the danger and potential civic discord involved in this case, the appeal was granted."

Shunsui stepped forward, hands curling into fists.

"That's completely unprecedented!"

One of the members behind the marble desk arched their fingers.

"Never the less, Captain, it is the rules. You yourself put forward an appeal, did you not? It is how the system works."

Shunsui felt a hand on his arm, and turned to see the Captain Commander at his side. The old man did not need to say anything to his former pupil.

"That means, in total, the vote runs that the majority voted in favour of the proposed punishment for Ichigo Kurosaki with a majority of fifty one to seventeen."

"Motion carried. Ichigo Kurosaki will be subject to justice for breaking the laws of the Soul Society."

Jyuushiro closed his eyes, the bloodied handkerchief in his hand falling to the ground.

"After the punishment has been carried out, a search of Karakura town will begin. All those suspected of conspiring will be brought into our custody. Any who try to resist arrest are to be killed on sight, as is the Espada."

Renji fell to his knees, his arm across his face.

"At seven a.m. tomorrow, the criminal is to be executed for his crimes."

From the metal chair in the middle of the room, a new dosage coursing through his body, Ichigo Kurosaki listened to his death sentence through half-closed eyes.

_So, King. That old man was right. They really were out to get us all along, huh?_

He shook his head, slowly.

Justice? he thought bitterly.

Don't make me laugh.


	15. Fourteen

I am so almost canon it hurts. Who said there was an army in Hueco Mundo planning on invading Soul Society and using arrancar for energy? I did! Admittedly, Kubo's looks much cooler than mine, but that's not the point. I feel justified.

Hopefully this was worth the wait.

**Chapter Fourteen**

_Criminals do not die by the hands of the law. They die by the hands of other men_. - George Bernard Shaw

"_At seven a.m. tomorrow, the criminal is to be executed for his crimes."_

The words, passed on this time by Captain Soifon in person, still felt present in the room, as if they were echoing back and forth between the individuals assembled in the Kurosaki's front room. Isshin stared around at them all, and wondered when the situation had gone so wrong. They had all assumed that, though there was some murmurings of fear about Ichigo Kurosaki, that good will towards him for what he did would win out in the end, but it was clearly not the case. There had been other forces at work that they had not understood until it was too late, had not even believed would be the case until there had been nothing that they could have done about it.

Ichigo's plan had been sensible, it had made sense. Grimmjow had told them everything now: there was nothing served to continue to keep it a secret from everyone. He had known that to deny Grimmjow's existence or the fact that they were harbouring him would have been pointless, and it would have been found out quickly enough. Knowing this, he had decided that the only thing he could do was compromise, and not just for the sake of Grimmjow, but for everyone he had to protect in Karakura.

His plan had been to offer something that Central 46 wanted desperately, so that, in return, they might let Grimmjow live and Karakura remain unspoiled. He had known that swearing an oath of allegiance would not have been enough, and neither would have been joining the Gotei on a permanent basis. Without telling his family, his friends, Ichigo had gone to the Soul Society with the intention of letting them permanently seal his powers, so that he could never access them again unless the Soul Society decided to retract the sealing if they needed his aid. This would not only remove him as a threat entirely and giving the men and women of Central 46 peace of mind as far as he was concerned, but it would show his willingness to serve them in the future. To sweeten the deal even more, he had gone with an offer from the Sexta himself- to place a limiting seal on his powers, too, so that his presence could never be a threat again.

Grimmjow had told them all this with a low, emotionless voice and closed eyes, leaning against the wall of the living room.

Ichigo had told him that, if it all went wrong, to let his family and friends know that he had not gone in there blind, that there had been a plan, and that it should have worked.

And Isshin was furious, because it should have worked. There was even legal precedence, cases where shinigami had decided to leave the Soul Society, and had allowed themselves to be sealed, so that they would not have to be closely monitored. It should have worked, and it would have been tragic enough if it had.

But Central 46 had been too afraid of him to give him the chance to even put forward his offer. They had drugged him at his trial, stripping him of his voice and of his sensibilities, and because he had not wanted to worry anyone by telling them what he was sacrificing, there was no one to step forward to talk on his behalf.

Now it was too late. Ichigo was sentenced to death the next morning, and even if they stormed the keep and stole him away, that sentencing would lie over his head for the rest of his life. He would have to leave his home, live in secrecy, and anyone who might have helped him would be punished severely even without evidence. Central 46 would have to retract it for him to ever live a life without fear of discovery, and if he fled, there would be no chance of that ever happening.

And if they left him to be killed… after that, they would all be next.

Shinigami, following the unquestionable word of Central 46, would burn Karakura to the ground trying to find them all, and that would be the end of it.

He looked around the room, at the friends gathered there, and knew that to him, they were more than that. They were family, now.

Brought together in pain and in worry, the room was full of people that he would give his life to save. He had watched them all arrive in his life and in the town that he had made his home, and he realised as he looked around the room that he loved them all, as if they really were his family by blood.

They might all be gone, by the end of the week.

The Vizards, huddled together, faces pale and stern, knowing that soon, again, it would be time for them to run, run as they had spent the last hundred years running, from who they were. They said nothing and looked at no one, but Isshin thought that he could see Kensei's lips moved, hands clasped together, as if he were praying. Mashiro was crying, silently and without sobs, tears running down her cheeks as if she didn't even notice that they were there. They would be first on the list to be found, and there was still an outstanding execution order on their heads. They would be killed by the end of the week.

Ichigo's friends, after that, but they would go down as 'known accomplices'. Inoue, Chad, whose only aims in life were to heal and to protect. They had no inclinations towards violence, but the shinigami would not care about that. They would be given over to Kurotsuchi for experimentation, something that was arguably worse than death.

Tatsuki, Keigo and Mizuiro. They knew enough, in the shinigami's eyes, for them to be culpable for punishment.

Then who?

The Quincy, the very last of them. Ishida's junior and senior, both would be taken. He didn't want to know what would be done to them. There was no love lost between the two races, after all.

The Shoten would be raided. They would search for Urahara and Yoruichi, and though he knew that they would not be able to find them if they didn't want to be found, he knew it would hurt his old friends to run from the place that, between them, they had made home. Tessai, that strong and gentle man, would they find him, and torture him for information on their whereabouts, for anything that he had to tell them? How long could he stand that for?

Jinta and Ururu, those little oddities. He had never asked Kisuke where they had come from, and he didn't know what would happen to them. Even if the shinigami didn't take them, they would be alone. They would lose their family. The MOD souls, too. It didn't matter that they were helpless and essentially useless, they were still outlawed technology, and as such would be terminated. They wouldn't even get a trail, because in the eyes of the law, they were not even alive. It wasn't possible for fabric cheeks to pale, but you could see the fear in the four of them sat there on the floor, you could feel it.

His eyes went next to the armchair where his two daughters sat, holding hands as if they were little children again. The minute that they realised that Karin had developing powers like those of her brother, she would be killed, and probably Yuzu too, even though she was innocent in all things. His whole family, gone. He did not think about what would happen to him, because he already knew that he would not have long to mourn his life before it, too, was taken from him by their hand or by his.

He looked last at the portrait above his daughter's heads, of his late wife, and remembered the promise that he had made her once, a long time ago, that he would do all that he could to protect the happiness that they had created together. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the image was blocked suddenly.

Grimmjow had moved from the wall, stood behind the armchair and in front of the painting, looking around the room. His eyes were dark, and they caught Isshin's in a stare that he could not look away from.

Slowly, as if sensing that something was about to be said, everyone in the room turned to look at them. He waited until he had everyone's attention, and cast his eyes over each of them.

He said nothing, but simply nodded, and with that nod, came a promise.

* * *

"Captain, we cannot let them do this."

Captain Shunsui Kyoraku turned, his face holding an expression of mild surprise, to look at his Lieutenant. She was frowning, hands folded across her chest.

"If you frown like that, you'll get wrinkles."

She shook her head, slowly.

"This is not what I would call justice."

He smiled at her, and it was a strange smile.

"You are being unusually vocal today, Nanao-chan."

"It is the truth, Captain."

He nodded.

"I know."

"I didn't sign up to the Gotei 13 so that I could stand by and allow things like this to happen. We can't let them go ahead with this. We just can't."

He touched her, gently, on the cheek, and realised that his hard, stoic little Lieutenant was close to tears.

"And we won't. I promise."

* * *

The night passed slowly.

Nights like this one always do, as if the very air is scared to see the dawn and what it might bring. Ichigo felt the cool air blow in through his barred window and wondered what it would be like to die.

He was not afraid.

He had spent too much of his life being afraid, and he felt oddly resigned to what the morning would bring to him. Perhaps, he thought, it might be peaceful. If he were reborn, he hoped that his new life would never cause him to raise a hand in violence ever again.

That would be nice, he thought.

Peaceful.

* * *

Muttered words and hurried footsteps; light and quick, the Seireitei was alive with people I the quiet night.

Shinigami ran to and fro that night, all with different tasks. There were those out on orders, preparing the stage for the events that would come with the morning light. Orders were orders, and there was nothing that they could do about them except carry them out as they were supposed to. A bitter truth, but the truth nonetheless.

Others carried news to those who had been on duty when the result of the trial had been announced. News does not travel fast by itself, and even if it is the worst of news for some, there will always be some who gloat at the misfortune of others and crave the latest news of pain and punishment.

The shinigami of the First Division were busy with a whole other task. The Captain Commander had seen too many years and too many conflicts to not have had a notion at what might go on that night.

And, though he did not like what the men and women of Central 46 had done, he knew that the word of law must stand firm. He had his Shinigami posted around the Soul Society, watching for anyone who might try and enter unnoticed, in order to rescue Ichigo Kurosaki.

Others were moving still with another reason, and they were careful to avoid the agents of the Captain Commander as they went from one place to another around the Soul Society.

In a small room in an abandoned building that stood next to the boundary wall of the Kuchiki estate, people were meeting.

They were people who would not have normally socialised together, and some, under normal circumstances, struggled even to be in the same room as each other. They all had different beliefs and different motivations in life. Personalities and opinions that would normally explosively conflict sat together, if not peacefully, then at least quietly, if only for tonight.

These were, after all, exceptional circumstances.

The room grew fuller as the night passed on, and as Renji watched them arrive, the weight that lay heavy on his chest seemed to lift, slightly, as a spark of hope grew.

* * *

The dawn came, fresh, spreading out the pink tendrils of her light across the brightening sky. Many a face watched it rise, and in its own, passive way, the sun noticed the attention, and wondered what they all had been waiting for.

In the pale gold early morning light, the guards escorted the prisoner to the place of execution. After a careful dose of the same substance he had been given the day before, they had bound his wrists, and secured him in the carriage that they had used to transport him before.

The Soul Society was oddly quiet, but if the guards thought about it, then they did not say anything.

They passed along their route without interruption until they were just a corner away from their destination, when they were forced to stop.

"What the hell?"

The guard directing the carriage stared up at the huge mound of earth that blocked the narrow pass between two cliffs.

The site was just on the other side, as traditionally the execution of a traitor was done outside of the Seireitei, where no one lived. It was an almost circular valley in the centre of a horseshoe of steep cliff faces, a verdant green valley. The thick, tall grass had been replaced, in the centre, by a circle of sand, on which the machine for execution had been set up in the night.

From around the side of the mound of earth came Captain Ukitake of the Thirteenth Division, and well recognised and liked figure. He waved cheerily at the guards, and moved out of the way so that Captian Kyoraku could step around as well.

"Good morning, gentlemen!"

"Err… good morning, Captains. What is going on?"

They blinked at him for a moment, pleasant smiles still on their faces. From around the side of the rubble came Lieutenant Ise, Rukia Kuchiki, Kiyone Kotetsu and Sentaro Kotsubaki. The guard stared at the for a moment, but it was only expected that Kyoraku would have his Lieutenant with him, and since Ukitake had none, he was often accompanied by members of his division.

"We are afraid to tell you that the road is blocked."

The guard stared up at the huge mound of earth.

"You don't say."

"So, you will have to progress on foot, I am afraid. We have been sent to escort you, to make sure no funny business is going on."

The guard nodded, hesitantly, unsure about what part of this did not seem quite right. After briefly consulting the other guards and concluding that there really wasn't anything else they could do about it, they carefully brought out the prisoner, whose hands were secured behind his back. They removed the ties between his ankles, so that he could walk, under the watchful gaze of the two Captains.

"Say, what is that you have put on his head?"

Ukitake's voice was mild, curious. He already knew the answer to the question.

"We call it the Hood, Captain, although it has a technical name. It was developed by the Twelfth Division, for sensory deprivation. I don't know how it works, but as long as you have it on, you can't see, hear, or smell anything."

A slight frown creased Kyoraku's expression, as if he were trying to figure out a maths problem.

"Didn't we outlaw those?"

The guard nodded, eager to please.

"Central 46 passed a vote an hour ago that it be brought back, for use on dangerous prisoners."

The two nodded, as if that were a reasonable answer, and smiled.

"Shall we go?"

A guard took either one of Ichigo's arms, and lead him forward. They passed around the side of the rubble, and were met on the other side with the entire combined forces of the Eighth and Thirteenth divisions.

Ukitake smiled that kindly, benevolent smiled that had fooled many before now, and winked.

"We thought a little extra precaution would not hurt."

It was not the guard's fault that they saw nothing suspicious about this. It was only when they rounded the last corner and found themselves at the execution grounds did they realise that anything at all was amiss, and even then, they were unsure quite what they could do in the situation.

There are many kinds of executions that have been practised in the Soul Society before this particular day, and thought had been put into which kind would be most apt for Ichigo Kurosaki. A conclusion had finally been made and an option chosen, and the horrendous mechanism lay before them, set up and ready to go. However, between them and the machinery, was the rather intimidating bulk of Captain Kenpachi Zaraki, grinning as if he had just heard the most entertaining joke imaginable, and flanked by Ikkaku Madarame and Yumichika Ayasegawa, both of whom were also smiling.

Behind them, was the rest of the Eleventh Division, surrounding and effectively blocking off the mechanisms of executions.

At this point, the guards had rather lost track of the situation, and were happy to see the Captain Commander and the head of Central 46 appear a little to their left. Behind them was Lieutenant Sasakibe and Captain Komamura, all of whom looked a little taken aback.

The chairman of Central 46 glared around.

"What is the meaning of this?"

The Captain Commander was the one who replied, although the question had not been directed at him. His voice was mild, and a little surprised.

"I believe it is what they call a revolution."

The head of Central 46 laughed a deep, rich laugh.

"Would you really put your three divisions against the rest of the Gotei? Would you throw the lives of your men away for that of a traitor?"

His laugh echoed around the valley, but it was cut short as several figures appeared in the air, who had been shielding up until now. Captain Byakuya Kuchiki stared coldly at him, but it was Captain Toushiro Hitsugaya who spoke.

"I am afraid, gentlemen, that we are casting our allegiance against you, in this matter."

Behind the two Captains stood Lieutenants Hisagi, Kira and Hinamori, acting Captains for their divisions each.

"This is treason!"

Another laugh cut across his words, and it was a laugh that the Captain Commander recognised, and had not, in all reality, actually expected. He had never thought that they would actually come.

"Some of us, I am afraid, are already guilty of that."

The chairmen stared at the four figures who had also just materialised, standing next to Kenpachi.

"Who the hell are you?"

The woman, who had been laughing, stopped short, and glared at him with sharp, dangerous eyes. She had no zanpakuto that the Chairman could see, but she exuded danger.

"If you do not know who I am then you are more foolish than you look, Chairman. I am Yoruichi Shihoin, and this is Tessai Tsukabishi." She indicated the taller man on her left.

The third of the party, who had spoken, snapped a fan across his face and chuckled. His eyes were hidden by shadow.

"And who the hell are you two?"

He tipped his hat back, and examined the Chairman, who was growing a little red in the face. The shadows lifted from his face and the expression of disapproval there was clear.

"Kisuke Urahara, humble shopkeeper."

"And you?"

The last in the line turned a cold gaze to the pompous man, feeling the hilt of his zanpakuto like the old friend that it was.

"I am Isshin Kurosaki. That is my son that you are trying to execute."

The Chairman rounded on the Captain Commander.

"Your men were supposed to keep people like this out!"

The Captain Commander nodded.

"So they were."

"Don't worry, we didn't kill anyone, we promise!"

The Chairman spun on his heel at the voice from behind him. These people he recognised immediately, and he stared in horror at them. The Captain Commander closed his eyes, and Captain Komamura moved up to stand next to him.

"You, monsters!"

Shinji blinked at him.

"Well, that's not very nice, is it?"

"You have come here to die, Vizards. We will finally carry out your order of execution!"

Shinji stroked the hilt of his zanpakuto.

"Yeah? You and whose army?"

Behind them appeared Captain Soifon, her Lieutenant, and the rest of the Second Division, surrounded by the enormous figures of the Seireitei gate guardians. Jidanbo stared around, until he caught sight of the hooded Ichigo Kurosaki. In front of him stood the Shiba siblings, looking a little uncomfortable to be there on the side of the shinigami, but there all the same, standing in line with Lieutenants Abarai, Matsumoto and Iba.

Komamura turned to look, and his voice was temperate, mild.

"Iba?"

He shuffled his feet a little.

"Sorry, Captain. But you taught me to do what I think is right."

Komamura smiled.

"And I am proud of you for doing so."

The imposing Captain turned to the Chairman, eyebrows raised.

"Perhaps this sentencing needs to be further discussed, in the wake of so much opposition to it?"

The Chairman glared at him, at the suggestion, at everything. His voice was low, but loud, and full of anger. It was a strong voice, a voice that was used to being obeyed in everything.

"I do not think so. No petty show of personal feelings will swerve the course of justice, Captain. Rally the First, Fourth, Seventh and Twelfth divisions, and prepare to fight. If they stand with Kurosaki, then they stand against us, and can die for such insubordination!"

Silence followed his words, and he turned to glare at the Captain Commander. Captain Unohana was stood with him, had only just appeared. She smiled at him, touched his arm, and went to stand with Shunsui and Ukitake. She was not a fighter, and her division was not one for warfare, but she had made her side clear nonetheless.

The Captain Commander turned to look the Chairman in the eye, and his gaze was so full of black rage that the Chairman found himself taking a step back from fear of it. It seemed to fill the old man, making him seem taller, broader, terrifying. His voice was not loud, nor was it cruel, but it was stern, and full of a hardness won from centuries of battle and bloodshed and killing, and it carried across the clearing, reaching everyone except Ichigo Kurosaki, who still stood, senses deprived, between his guards. It was a voice full of experience, full of anger, and it was not a voice that was used to being obeyed. It was a voice that _made _people obey.

"I am afraid, Chairman, that it is outside of your job description to make such an order."

The Chairman spluttered.

"Central 46 are your governing body."

The Captain Commander shook his head, slowly.

"You may make the laws, Chairman, but this is my army, and they do not answer to you, not if I tell them not to. These are my men and my women, and if I order them to stand down, then by god they will stand down."

He turned his gaze upon the rest of the clearing.

"And if I tell them that they are doing a damn good job, then they will hold their positions."

"I will have your Captaincy for this!"

The Captain Commander laughed, and it took everyone by surprise. He raised his voice, and the commanding tone of it made more than one shinigami stand a little straighter, a little prouder.

"And if you do, then I will leave, and I will take all Thirteen divisions of this army with me, because they will not follow injustice."

He cast a smile at Shunsui and Jyuushiro, and turned back to the Chairman.

"I taught them that, believe me."

The Chairman took a step back, back towards the way out of the valley.

"The execution order still stands, even if you refuse to carry it out."

The Captain Commander nodded, and all of a sudden he looked tired, older than he had appeared only moments before, the rage spilling out of him. He touched the hilt of Ryujin Jakka, as if to give him strength.

"I know."

The guards who had been holding Ichigo's arms moved back, knowing that this stage of the battle, at least, had been lost. They took the Chairman's back, and slowly, the group backed out of the valley. Hundreds of faces watched them leave, and it was only when they were sure that they had gone that a collective sigh of relief echoed around the clearing.

The Captains strode, from their various positions, to their Captain Commander, who watched them all through tired eyes.

"You made quite a show today."

Ukitake bowed.

"Thank you for standing for us."

The Captain Commander shook his head.

"I am the one who created this army, and I stand for it. If this is what the collective of the Gotei have chosen, then I am honour bound to support you all on, regardless of what the consequences of such an action would be."

He cast a glance back to where the Chairman had once been, and the other Captain's knew what he meant. Central 46 may no longer have had the support of the armies of the Gotei, but there were other bodies loyal to them, who answered directly to them, like the prison guards, and the personal bodyguards of Central 46. The Gotei outnumbered them, but it might still end up a bloody battle, if stubbornness won out over common sense.

The Captain Commander looked around, frowning.

"There are others here, still shielding."

Urahara smiled.

"I should not have underestimated your abilities. I would not let them let down the shield until it was safe."

With a click of his fingers, three more people materialised in amongst the rest. Orihime, Chad, and Ishida appeared.

The Captain Commander seemed about to say something else when an echoing, enraged scream ripped across the clearing, making many jump and turn, instantly, to where Ichigo Kurosaki still was, almost forgotten in all of the drama, now slumped to his knees, hood in place so that he could not hear, or see, anything that was going on.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON OUT THERE!"

The first thing that Ichigo Kurosaki saw, as the hood was lifted from his eyes and sight and sound poured back to him like a wave, was the smiling, tearful face of his father, kneeling right in front of him.

"Dad?"

Isshin smiled at him, and Ichigo blinked, eyes hurting from the sudden light..

He took his son's face in his hands and pulled it to him, pressing a kiss to the forehead of a face that he had thought he might never see again. Ichigo pulled back, confused, having missed everything that had happened, having resigned himself to a sure death.

"What are you doing here?"

Isshin laughed, and it was a joyful sound.

"We are here to bring you home."

Ichigo fell back on the grass, breathing in deeply.

"I don't understand."

"Look around you, Ichigo."

He helped his son to his feet, and for the first time since the hood was lifted, he looked around the valley, now crammed full with people. He saw first the Captain Commander, watching him with careful eyes, and then the rest of the Captains who had now all fallen in line behind him except for Kenpachi who was stood a little apart, and Mayuri, who had made sure not to be there. He saw the vast groups of shinigami, most of whom he didn't even know by sight, let alone by name, but who were all looking at him, watching him, who were all here for him, because they did not believe he should die.

No Captain had forced participation in this; all had told their men and women to only come if they believed that this was the right thing to do.

Ichigo Kurosaki had saved all of their lives, by defeating Aizen, even if he hadn't known it.

Not one Captain had had a shinigami refuse.

Isshin held on to Ichigo's shoulder, as if afraid he would fall over as he continued to look around.

His eyes sought for each of his friends first. Ikkaku, Yumichika, Matsumoto. Rukia waved at him from behind her brother. Toushiro rolled his eyes in his direction, and Byakuya gave him the most minute of nods. Yachiru was grinning at him, as was Kenpachi, and Jyuushiro was smiling too. He looked further, saw the Vizards, who were still standing apart from anyone else, and Orihime, Chad, Ishida. The Shiba siblings, still stood with Jidanbo. He saw Urahara, Yoruichi and Tessai, and finally saw Renji, who was wiping his eyes. Ichigo waved at him, and the look of relief on Renji's face was almost palpable.

"I don't understand."

The Captain Commander nodded.

"The Gotei 13, Ichigo Kurosaki, have decided to risk civil war, rather than let you die."

He stared at him.

"Why?"

He received no answer from the Captain Commander, but an unexpected one came from the air above.

"You're an idiot."

He looked up, frowning.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Karin appeared above him, standing on the air, something she had mastered early on. She stuck her tongue out at him, then smiled.

"Dad wouldn't let me stand with him, he made Tessai keep me hidden so that no one would notice I was here."

"Then why the hell have you come out now?"

"Because, Ichigo, these guys are all on your side."

Ichigo's response was interrupted by the booming voice of the Captain Commander.

"Isshin Kurosaki, are you telling me that another one of your children has developed spiritual powers?"

Isshin grinned sheepishly, as the Captain Commander rounded on his Captains.

"Did any of your know about this?"

There was no response, but a couple of Captains looked a little awkward. The Captain Commander exhaled heavily, frowning.

"Then we have no choice. Child, come here."

Before her brother or father could stop her, Karin strode over to the Captain Commander, one little girl in a field full of soldiers.

"What is your name?"

"Karin Kurosaki."

"Karin Kurosaki, do you swear allegiance to the honourable order of the Soul Society." Under his breath, the Captain Commander muttered, "Before we end up destroying it accidentally, that is?"

She nodded.

"I do."

"Good. Then, as Captain Commander of the Gotei 13, I swear you in as a substitute shinigami, which means I don't have to have you arrested as an intruder."

He glanced around the rest of the assorted individuals from the human world.

"As for the rest of you…" he sighed, and when he spoke again, his voice was much louder, much stronger. "Listen to me, all of you, as your Captain Commander and the founder of this army. From here onwards we do not follow the law of Central 46, we have rebelled against them and that means that their enemies in law are no longer ours. As such, those here who are wanted by Central 46 for treason and for execution, they are no longer our enemies."

The old man turned, to face the Vizards. Urahara, Yoruichi and Tessai had gone to stand besides them now, eleven men and women in the face of hundreds of shinigami, who had come to face them regardless, for what they believed was the right thing.

"They fought besides us, and were injured alongside us. Aizen spilled our bloods together. These men and women are no longer enemies of the Gotei 13 and, if they will have us, they will be our allies."

Silence fell again as they waited for an answer. Urahara and Shinji exchanged a glance, as if waiting for one of them to say something, but it wasn't either one of them who spoke.

"That was pretty, old man, but what if you kiss and make up with Central 46? Will we be back on the wanted list then?"

The Captain Commander stared down at Hiyori, zanpakuto slung over her shoulder.

Her face was full of arrogance and anger, but behind that, fear. A fear of rejection.

He shook his head.

"I will give you my word that that will not happen."

She nodded.

"Then we will be allies again."

He smiled, and she smiled back, but the moment was broken by Komamura, who was looking around, confused.

"There is someone here who is still shielding. Come out, so we may no if you are friend or not."

Karin gripped hold of Ichigo's hand, but before anything could happen or this last person appear, a great roaring sound ripped across the landscape, drowning out everything. It was an impossible sound to describe, like the sound that the chasm at the end of the world must sound like. Ichigo shuddered as it washed over him, and made him think of the sound that the universe might make, if it was breaking. The earth trembled violently, an earthquake rocking the land, and with the sound of crunching rock the grass beneath them pitched. Dust flew everything, and there was a scream of metal scraping against rock. Ichigo threw himself to the ground, on top of Karin, pinning her beneath him, trying to shield her body.

The noise seemed to go on forever, and Ichigo thought that the blood my explode from his body from the sheer, heavy pressure of the noise.

All of a sudden, things went very still. Around him he could hear the coughing and spluttering of hundreds of people, and he turned his head around to see the dust settling, or being caught up in the breeze and lifted away from them. He lifted his head, and realised that the wind had picked up, clearing the air for them, but almost as soon as it was done it stopped, as suddenly as it had arrived.

What the hell had happened?

He got to his feet, pulling Karin with him, finding his father was on his knees next to them. No one seemed hurt, just chaotic. The loud, booming voices of Captains echoed around the suddenly still valley as they ordered their men back into rank and into position. Ichigo left Karin with Isshin and pushed his way through shinigami to where a he crack had opened up in the landscape, as if the ground had been torn apart. The machinery of the execution machine had fallen right into it, and he stared down at it in disbelief as the shinigami began to organise themselves around him.

He could hear his father's voice all of a sudden, calling out above the rest of the shinigami. Barked orders from Captains quieted the ranks until the valley was quiet again, ordered. Isshin was talking frantically with Urahara, gesticulating. The odd lines were floating over to where Ichigo was, fragments of an important conversation that he was missing.

"Seventh link…"

"Not supposed to happen yet…"

"Only one left…"

"Need to tell them…"

The Captain Commander turned his gaze upon the two men who he had once commanded, and considered ordering them to speak. He did not, because although they would have done, it was not his place anymore to command them.

Shunsui stepped forward.

"Isshin, what do you know?"

His father turned to face the Captains, and he was pale, tired looking.

"It is a long story."

Shunsui shrugged.

"We have time."

Urahara and Isshin shared a look.

"Actually, I don't think that we do."

"What is happening?"

The two exchanged glances, but it was Shinji who stepped forward, dust in his normally perfect hair.

"There is an army in Hueco Mundo, of something new, and they have discovered the links that you left between the Soul Society and Karakura, and they have been destroying them. I believe that what we just witnessed was the result of the seventh link being destroyed, which means that there is only one left." He looked around him, at the silent ranks of shinigami and the stern faces of the Captains.

"Which means that, no offence, but you may have to leave Central 46 for now. We have something bigger to fry."

Soifon stepped forward.

"I don't know what these links are, but I am not going to waste time asking mundane questions. What happens if the eighth link is destroyed?"

"Then the Soul Society will crash into the human world, and destroy the Soul Society and Karakura."

Soifon looked ashen, grey. She looked at Yoruichi, who nodded at her, as if to confirm that it was true.

"Why are they doing this?"

"They will use the confusion to imprison us, to feed on our energy."

"How do you know all of this?"

Isshin smiled at Shunsui, who was frowning, serious.

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."

"What?"

"They tried to recruit him, but he refused."

The Captain Commander frowned.

"Why would he refuse?"

Isshin glanced upwards.

"Ask him yourself."

The Captains looked upwards, but Grimmjow appeared right in front of them, suddenly and without warning. He stood there, between the Captains and their Commander, surrounded on all sides by hundreds of shinigami. Nearly all, on instinct, felt their hands go straight to the hilts of their zanpakuto, and many even drew them at the sight of an Espada appear amongst them without any warning. It was an insane move, and he was grinning widely, as if on the brink of laughter, eyes bright but zanpakuto sheathed still, hands deliberately no where near it, so he could not be misconstrued.

There was a thick, heavy silence. No one moved, no one sure what to do.

Slowly, Grimmjow raised his hands in the air, and laughed, looking at the row of Captains assembled in front of him.

"Come on then, boys. Arrest me."


	16. Fifteen

Hello all. Thanks for all the messages of support for me and for this story, they were all very much appreciated. Thanks to you all, for everything. And I'm sorry for leaving you so long on such a cliff hanger. News? I'm now on tumblr! madwithfootsteps. tumblr .com

_There was a thick, heavy silence. No one moved, no one sure what to do._

_Slowly, Grimmjow raised his hands in the air, and laughed, looking at the row of Captains assembled in front of him._

"_Come on then, boys. Arrest me."_

**Chapter Fifteen**

_There are no words to express the abyss between isolation and having one_ _ally_ - Gilbert Chesterton

In the end, they didn't arrest him.

The tension was palpable and you could have cut the restraint in the air with a knife, but no one ended up moving more than a step forward.

No one was more surprised about that than Grimmjow.

The problem with him, he knew, was that he really did not have much fear built into him: it meant that even long thought out decisions were rash and lead to unwanted circumstances. He had anticipated being arrested regardless of the situation: he had assumed at least a scrap with the shinigami on first appearance, although even he had enough common sense to realise that he would not be able to fight whole heartedly, or to injure anyone, for the sake of the cause and for Ichigo. But when no one moved towards him, it felt rather unfairly anti-climactic. Clearly, the situation really was strange enough that the shinigami could no longer tell friend from foe, and vice versa, but he had hoped that he instilled a little bit more fear than this implied. He had been an Espada, after all. For Grimmjow, this might not have been the strangest thing that occurred over the following few days, nor the most surprising, but it certainly ranked highly in both.

Of course, just because no shinigami moved does not mean that there were not… tensions.

There was a very awkward moment when nearly every shinigami in the valley unsheathed their zanpakuto, and the rush of hundreds of peoples rietsu came pouring over him in a great, crashing wave, but the onslaught never came.

True, the shinigami did all stare at him with an unrestrained mixture of disgust, anger and curiosity, as he were the most baffling creature in the zoo. The one with the biggest teeth.

Whose cage had been left unlocked.

Things had been a little awkward since then.

This awkward staring went on for quite a while before Urahara and Kensei has moved, so in sync that it might have been co-ordinated, from different sides, to stand next to him. Kensei punched him arm, staring in an almost challenging manner at any poor shinigami that he caught sight of, whilst Urahara simply stared unnervingly at the Captain-Commander from under the brim of his hat. Silently, Shinji joined them, standing in front of the three, putting himself directly in the line of fire from the mixture of glares, contempt and bewilderment from the Captains.

Shinji cleared his throat.

"So are you going to ask him now he's come all this way, or not?"

They hadn't.

Instead, they had gone to confer, the Captains with their Lieutenants, leaving Grimmjow do dwell on the anticlimactic nature of his arrival, feeling more than a little thrown.

A little way across the valley, Ichigo felt his pulse return to normal. He had watched Grimmjow appear with the sting of pure fear cutting though him with more pain than any of the blades that had ever made him bleed. It had been a sudden and completely rational fear as he believed that he was about to watch the former-Espada be cut down in front of his very eyes, an ache in his chest as he realised that, no matter how quickly he moved, if the onslaught of hundreds of zanpakuto were released at Grimmjow at once, he would never get there on time. The relief when the stillness did not break was intense and indescribable, as concentrated as Grimmjow's own feelings were anti-climactic. He watched the straining reserve of the shinigami, and as he heard the low babble of voices break out across the divisions as the Captains left to confer he felt deflated, suddenly very tired.

There was movement again, the shinigami shifting feet and divisions forming regiments, and as they did so he found that he had lost sight of Grimmjow in the chaos of people. He tried to get across to him, but was barred by hundreds of people who, now there was a lull in the action, all wanted to wish him well, shake his hand, embrace him.

Grimmjow moved a little away from the circle of officers, towards where the execution machine had been. There was a clear circle around him as he moved, as if no one wanted to get to close to him. Grimmjow noticed, but didn't care. It wasn't as if he wasn't used to that kind of thing.

Ichigo continued to fight his way through people. It seemed everybody he had ever met in the Soul Society- and quite a few complete strangers- suddenly had things that they wanted to tell him. He offered short smiles to friends, nods to acquaintances, stares of bewilderment at people that he had never seen before in his life. So many people wanting to tell him just how much he meant to them, how much they cared and valued and appreciated what he had done for them. Their gratitude and respect flowed over him in an almost suffocating wave of appreciation, whilst all the time he tried to keep an eye on that spot of unnatural blue that bobbed in and out of sight around the heads of the crowds of people, trying his hardest to move ever closer back to the one person in the valley whose words, right now, he wanted to hear.

It seemed a long time until he could. He thanked each person who came to him, shook hands, watching the arrancar who stood conspicuously apart from everyone else, silence around him. After finally prising Mashiro off him, he had managed to get to his side.

Grimmjow was staring down one of the great chasms created by the earthquake at the execution machine that had fallen down into it, and was now stuck a way down, the metal having gouged great scratches into the rock. It seemed now almost like a great mechanical insect, beams and spikes sticking up from the ruined machinery like arachnoid legs trying to climb its way out of the chasm that would now be its final resting place. His face had set itself at emotionless, completely and worryingly blank, but as Ichigo finally drew level with him he knocked his shoulder against the other's in a silent greeting.

That wasn't the way that he wanted to meet Ichigo, after all this time and frantic concern, but knew that anything more than casual friendliness would not be appreciated by the shinigami- who were all watching the two, though most were pretending not to do so.

Ichigo sighed.

"You shouldn't have come."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes but didn't look to the side, where he knew Ichigo would be sending a frown in his direction. It seemed to be a common expression around the valley: looking out over the mass of shinigami face he could not see even one expression that could be read as calm, let alone any that might be viewed as happy- except for the Eleventh Division and the towering bulk of their Captain. From what Grimmjow knew of them, he assumed they were pleased at the idea of having someone new to fight. He could relate.

He himself was trying to keep a blank expression, as the whole awkwardness of the situation was staring to amuse him, and supposed that a smile might really be a little inappropriate, given that the world might end sometime soon. Although Kenpachi didn't seem to care.

Grimmjow's eyes closed for a moment, and he leant a little to his left, towards Ichigo, so that just briefly the lengths of their arms pressed against each other. Just as soon as the impression of warmth from living skin was felt against his own, he pulled back, and opened his eyes again, watching.

The Captains were debating the situation and discussing the possibilities in the middle of the valley, standing in a circle flanked by their Lieutenants, deep in conversation by the look of it. The divisions were spread around the outside of the valley, on the ground and in the air, waiting for possible attack, although Ichigo wasn't convinced that there would be anything for them to fight against. More likely, he thought, everyone just needed something to do.

People, he knew, needed focus in crisis.

As for the Karakura residents who had, technically, invaded, they too were left in the middle of the valley, although Urahara, Isshin and Shinji had been asked to join the Captain's debate, perhaps mulling over their pardon. The Vizards seemed tense even from a distance, still uncomfortable even after the words of the Captain Commander, surrounded by those who had once been their allies.

Ichigo's voice was laced with irritation, but underneath that was a warmth that Grimmjow had missed.

"This was really dangerous of you."

Grimmjow shrugged.

"You can talk."

Ichigo looked down, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

"It didn't go the way I planned."

"No shit."

He smiled ruefully.

"It's a good job some people around here still like me, huh? Although I don't know how I'm going to get my zanpakuto back."

Grimmjow shook his head, but another voice cut through their conversation before he had a chance to respond.

"I think they've already sent people to sort that out."

Kensei had come over to them, striding through the ranks of shinigami unnoticed to stand beside them. He seemed uncomfortable, casting his eyes along the rows of soldiers surrounding the valley. The majority of people would assume that he, like the rest of the Vizards, was simply on edge at being surrounding by people that, a few months ago, would not have hesitated to kill him on sight. However, that was not the end of it for Kensei. Though the awkwardness of the situation was not lost on him, he had a deep reserve of calm that he was able to draw on in situations like this. What was bothering him now was having to see his former division. He would never admit it out loud, or even to himself, but it infuriated him to see the Ninth Division without Captain, to see the Lieutenant stand alone in the meeting, his own Division without full representation or support. He wasn't sure if he had realised it before today, but he still felt like a shinigami, not a Vizard. He still held a protective feel over his old division, still, in some ways, thought of it as his own.

There was a part of him, he thought, that still belonged there: the glances of some of the low-seated officers who had known him, the tattoo on the cheek of the new Lieutenant. He did not like being here and not being a Captain: felt as if a right that was owed to him had not been paid. It was egotistical, he knew: but that was how it was. First and foremost, it seemed that he was still a Captain.

"How do you know?"

Kensei turned to Ichigo and Grimmjow, who were standing a little too close together. He wondered if he should tell them to step apart, but thought that might look even worse now. He let the thought slide. They probably wouldn't listen even if he did say anything.

"They sent me over to get the two of you."

He pointed back in the direction of the Captains and Lieutenants, and Ichigo saw that they had indeed all turned to face them, waiting for the two odd-ones-out. Ichigo wished that he could touch Grimmjow, even just for a moment, but knew that it was impossible. The thought of warm skin against his own would have to be enough to ground him. He wondered if Grimmjow felt the same way, but his face was as blank as he had ever seen it, hand constantly straying to Pantera's hilt, as if for his own form of comfort.

All of a sudden, he could hear a strange whispering sound, as if the softest of fabrics were brushing against steel. The sound of it filled a part of his mind that he had not even realised felt empty. Zangetsu. He was nearby.

As they made their way over he prayed that all tempers would be kept, but his mind was washed clean of all feelings except for relief when he finally felt the presence of his zanpakuto entering the valley, brought by a host of people. They approached the Captains as he did, and at the head of them, he realised, was Renji. He hadn't even noticed that he wasn't standing with Byakuya. His observation skills were letting him down today.

The Lieutenant glanced in the direction of his Captain, but when no order came his way be bypassed the group, and came directly to Ichigo. He seemed strangely formal as he bowed and handed the blade back over, but when he straightened up it was Renji's grin across his face, that same expression Ichigo had seen a thousand times before, and it put him oddly at ease. Despite their interaction before the trial he had been unsure if things really were going to be the same between himself and his friend, but that expression said it all: everything else was in the past.

"The guards weren't happy to let go of it, but I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be."

Ichigo found the corner of his mouth curving upwards.

"Thanks, Renji."

As his hands closed over it, he felt a tension in his chest lessen that he had not even known was there. Zangetsu was back with him; already everything felt slightly easier, slightly more possible. His head felt straighter, his mind more focused. He had his zanpakuto back. No one could stand in his way now. Sword in hand, friends at his side: this was how Ichigo Kurosaki worked best.

The Captain Commander frowned at the three of them, and Renji must have felt it against his back because he quickly took his place once more with his Captain, who gave him the slightest of nods, almost imperceptible, that could have meant anything. Renji, a well-versed scholar in the many moods of Byakuya Kuchiki, took this to be a good sign.

The Captain Commander's stare strayed only briefly from the arrancar, to observe through narrowed eyes at the substitute shinigami, the boy who had always caused him so many problems, and so many questions. He sighed to himself. He could have sworn that life was simpler a century ago. None of these Arrancar or end-of-the-world scenarios. All he used to have to do was kill hollows. Ah, for the simple life.

He suppressed a smile. Perhaps that was just old age talking.

"Urahara has explained to us all what has happened without us knowing, but we still have some questions that we would like you to answer."

The question, though not explicit, was aimed firmly at Grimmjow, who was starting to get tired of all of the formality and awkwardness. He shifted slightly, wondering if he if was too late to back out of all of this shit, and then nodded. The Captains all for a moment glanced around at each other, wondering who would step forward to ask. After a moment of silence, Captain Ukitake stepped forward, a slight smile on his gentle face.

"Why have you allied yourself with us?"

Grimmjow's response was immediate.

"I haven't."

Ichigo had to restrain himself from slapping his face with the palm of his hand. Even now Grimmjow could not contain his antagonistic ways.

"I allied myself with the people Karakura, and now they are your allies."

Ukitake nodded, slowly.

"Okay. Well then, why did you decide to ally yourself with… Karakura?"

Grimmjow frowned.

"Nothing to do with you."

If Ukitake was taken aback by this answer, he didn't make it obvious. In fact, if Ichigo hadn't known better, he would have said that the Captain didn't care at all about the answers Grimmjow was giving. This whole scenario seemed a little odd, as if they were all skirting around a burning issue. The elephant in the corner loomed over them, and no one seemed willing to address it.

"How did you find out about the army?"

"They approached me."

"Why?"

Grimmjow shrugged.

"I didn't ask."

Ukitake stepped back in line, although the eyes of the other Captain's followed him back as if he had not finished, as if there were more questions to be asked. Ukitake's expression remained serene: clearly, if more pointless questions were to be asked, it would not be Ukitake asking them. Grimmjow's eyes narrowed, waiting for whatever might come next, but for the longest moment, there was nothing until a slight chuckle from Urahara echoed across the group.

"Is that all the questions you have for him, Captains?"

There was no response, and Urahara flicked his fan across his face.

Ichigo caught his father rolling his eyes at the assembled Captains.

"In that case, might I suggest we focus on more important things, such as the location of the eighth link, so that we can send people to protect it? It would be quite typical if the world ended up destroyed whilst we all sat around swamped by bureaucracy."

The Captain Commander seemed irritated, but nodded, and Ichigo couldn't help but think he was missing something. Clearly something was pissing the Captain's off, but he couldn't work out for the life of him what it was. But now they were willing to get down to actually planning. The Gotei's first thoughts, he knew, should be on immediate and decisive action. The situation had already gone far out of hand as it was, and needed a swift response.

"That much is true."

All eyes turned to Urahara, who smiled back at them all. After a moment, when it became clear that he was not going to say anything, they turned instead to Grimmjow, who stared back wearily. It took a moment until anyone thought to, but after a moment and a heavy sigh, as if he were protesting at having to do it, Ukitake stepped forward again, with a question that almost felt too obvious to say.

"Grimmjow-san, where is the eighth link?"

"How the hell should I know?"

The Captain's looked dumfounded.

"Why the hell would I know where they are? They're your links."

Urahara smiled to himself.

"And that, of course, is true. These links, we must remember, were built by your army, engineered and planned, approved by you. The fact that you have all forgotten about them doesn't mean that everyone else has. And there is someone who always keeps note of these kinds of things."

The Captain Commander frowned.

"Go on then, where is it?"

Urahara pushed his hat back.

"Not I! I am a simple and humble shopkeeper, these kind of things are nothing to do with me."

Kenpachi laughed. "Yeah, right. Who does know then, humble shopkeeper?"

Urahara's smile was almost fiendish.

"Well that, of course, is a very good question. I would look among you, ladies and gentlemen, and figure out who we are missing."

* * *

Deep in Maggot's Nest, Mayuri stared into the depths of his mirrored wall. Though he had been released from the prison over a century ago, there was still a part of him that felt that this place was a haven to him, a home of sorts. When moments reached levels of madness, he retreated down here, to his old solitary confinement cells that he had converted as he wished once he had taken over the Twelfth Division and the responsibility of the prisons of the Seireitei.

He hummed to himself as he wiped the white paint across his cheekbone, smiling slightly.

Things had changed drastically in the last day.

That did not concern him in perhaps the way that it should have done. He knew that though he had not thrown his lot in with his other Captains, that there would be no official ramifications, and only the displeasure of his fellow Captains to cope with: but he was well used to that already.

He picked up the purple paint.

These were the kinds of situations that he relished the most: where he could stand completely against everyone else but without breaking any rules, so there was no threat of his funding or freedom being restricted.

The reflection that stared back at him now was complete in its monstrous entirety, and he smiled a wide, toothy grin at himself.

There was a buzzing noise from a screen, and he turned to it.

The view from a micro-camera appeared, hidden in a small flying mechanism that he had disguised as a dragonfly, so that it could pass unseen around the Soul Society. The only downside was, they were not as quick as he would like, so though he had deployed them an hour before he was only now getting video feed from the valley itself. The original microcamera was disrupted by heavy rietsu, so he had had to adapt them before he could send them off to a place so heavily populated with spiritual beings.

The valley was full, he saw, with all the shinigami from all of the Divisions except his own. Though the message had reached his department, he had banned his shinigami from leaving, though he suspected that a few lower-ranked shinigami had disobeyed. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure he would not be able to punish them: any appeal they would make to the Captain-Commander was sure to be successful in this situation. He pressed a few things on the touch screen, and the camera zoomed in so he could view individuals. Well, well. There were a number of unexpected visitors with the Captains. His former Captain. Ichigo Kurosaki's father. His eyes widened. The Quincy, and those humans with spiritual powers. The Vizards.

The Arrancar.

He might have chuckled to himself at the promise of such a good selection experiments, being so close by, and so vulnerable, not knowing he was watching, but his attention was caught by movement in the corner, a slight fluttering in the shadows that he had only just noticed.

He frowned, and hit a button, illuminating the room with a bright, white light.

In the corner, fluttering slowly towards him, was a butterfly.

Such a thing was not an unusual sight in the Soul Society: they were used to pass information and messages between divisions and shinigami. The security clearance they had differed on individuals: a butterfly sent directly from a Captain, for instance, would be able to reach most places in the Soul Society. But one should not have been able to get down here. Nothing should have been able to get through the defences of the prison, let alone his own barriers surrounding his private laboratory. In fact, as he wracked his mind to think of the levels of security clearance, there was only one person who was able to send a butterfly with full, unlimited access to everywhere in the Soul Society without limitation or exception.

And that person did not send his own memos.

He reached out a hand, and the butterfly landed on his fingertips, its proboscis touching the painted skin of his hand so gently that he would not have been able to feel it had he not mutated his nervous system a few weeks ago for extreme sensitivity. It would have seemed like a gentle and natural movement, had you not known that it was actually taking a sample of DNA to ensure the message was being delivered to the right individual.

The butterfly's wings opened, and Mayuri sighed.

It seemed he was being summoned.

* * *

Camp was being set up, it seemed. Ichigo watched the hustle and bustle of the shinigami as they erected tents, drew up guard duty and used kido to light fires against the encroaching night. The shinigami were divided up into their divisions, their camps set up like a clock around the central camp, which had been erected for the visitors and the Captains. Ichigo didn't know where all the equipment had come from, or how they had managed to organise so much so quickly, but he was grateful.

It felt like a long time since he had managed to get any sleep.

He rubbed his forehead, looking out over the shinigami again.

"Why don't they all just go back to their barracks?"

Shinji, who was sat beside him, shrugged, tossing his hair over his shoulder. In his usual way, he seemed unruffled, but Ichigo could feel the tumultuous movements of his inner hollow, a presence in the air, the same way one might feel a thunderstorm before it arrives. At this proximity, it was impossible even to ignore. That was the problem, he thought, with being able to sense powers: it made it very difficult to fool people with how you were feeling.

"I suppose they have declared themselves at war, in a round about kind of way, against the institution. Going back to their quarters might seem wrong to them. Sounds like something the noble Gotei would do." He lay back, stretching out in the grass. "Me though, I'd be back in my bed, if I were them."

Ichigo exhaled deeply, almost a sigh.

"D'you miss it?"

Shinji smiled, a sad, funny sort of smile, as if he had not decided what he was feeling yet.

"Sometimes."

Besides Ichigo, Grimmjow too watched the shinigami hustle and bustle around. It reminded him of the preparations for war in Las Noches, when unranked arrancar ran around fetching sustenance and being canon fodder for the Espada when they felt like killing something for practise. Things were not as grim here, he had to admit, but there was still an air of determination, of tension, the feeling of shinigami waiting for something to happen. The army in Las Noches had had a head-start, but the element of surprise was lost, and they didn't know it yet. Something could be done to stop them now, something, he had to admit, that he would not have been able to do alone. Even the combined forces of Karakura might not have been enough, but with their new, allied forces, possibilities rose their heads.

He remembered something that Aizen had told them, after he had completed his first ten Espada. The people in it would change, but the drive behind them remained the same.

"When you battle, you must do so with hatred in you, you must fight as if you were fire, and you were unstoppable, and you could burn anything in your path."

That was how he felt now, he thought. Like fire. As if all these people were the potential for a forest fire after a long, dry summer, waiting for a single spark to set them off, ready to begin. Grimmjow closed his eyes, and tried to remember the feeling of hatred, but he could not. The heat of anger remained, and he wondered if that would be enough.

As they watched the plumes of smoke climbing into the air, anticipation settled over them like a blanket of smoke.

War was coming, whether they liked it or not, and the shinigami were going to be prepared.

* * *

As the preparations drew to a halt and the night made its presence known, Ichigo and Grimmjow were called once more to the Captain's meeting, where Urahara, Shinji and Isshin had spent the day. Mayuri still had not arrived, but council had continued without him, and no further orders had been sent to him. Grimmjow had not understood this: if he had been in charge, he would have sent Kenpachi to pick him up. Preferably, literally. But the Captain Commander seemed content to let one butterfly be enough, and had ordered they continue making plans without him. Rather than feeling snubbed at being ignored all day, he was somewhat relived. Responsibility often fell on his shoulders, and sometimes it was peaceful to have the decision making on someone else's shoulders. His hand brushed against Grimmjow's as they walked side by side, and he hoped that nobody noticed.

Once again, the Captains stood, silent and as grave as tombstones. Between each Captain now stood a representative of Karakura: Urahara, Shinji, Kuukaku, Kensei, Love, Yoruichi, Rose, Tessai. His father, standing stern-faced between Kenpachi and Ukitake. Uryuu, clearly included as a representative for both the Quincy and those with developed powers in Karakura. The massive bulk of Jidabo at the end; Karin, standing behind their father, trying to be inconspicuous.

Before them all, the Captain Commander, who seemed newly energized. This time it was Shunsui that stepped forward, clearly having been volunteered to ask the questions this time around.

"Welcome to our Council."

He smiled at the two of them, and after the formal greetings, turned to face Grimmjow.

"Before I answer any questions, I have a condition."

All eyes turned to him in surprise.

"I want the freedom of one of your prisoners."

Shunsui turned to the Captain-Commander, who nodded.

"Which one?"

"Halibel."

Shunsui sighed. They had already taken one prisoner from Central 46, another would be provoking an already delicate situation. The other surviving Espada was also a much more controversial figure that Ichigo was for release: the shinigami would band behind their saviour, but would they agree to risk war to save a criminal?

Grimmjow stared out, defiant.

"You can't agree to ally yourselves with me and still see her in the same way."

The Captain-Commander sighed.

"We'll put it to the Captain's to vote to save her. I will. Soifon?"

"I will."

"Unohana?"

"I will."

"Kuchiki?"

"Yes."

"Komamura?"

"It is not wise, but for the sake of speed, I will agree."

"Kyoraku?"

"Fine by me."

"Hitsugaya?"

"She was a noble opponent: she does not deserve a criminal's death."

"Kenpachi?"

"Why the hell not."

"Kurotsuchi?"

"I will not."

Ukitake?"

"I will."

"Passed with majority. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, we agree to your terms."

He nodded, a little more willing now to go through with the questioning. Shunsui cleared his throat now that he could continue, and smiled at Grimmjow.

"Could you explain to us how you became what you are?"

Ichigo blinked. That, he had not expected.

Grimmjow frowned, also clearly confused by this unexpected line of inquiry, and folded his arms across his bare chest.

"The hell has that got to do with anything?"

"Well, we thought if we could compare the process between you and these new creatures, we might be able to better understand what we are up against. After all, you share a common denominator."

Urahara flipped open his fan, smiling behind it.

"Yes, Grimmjow. This kind of study could prove immensely valuable. I'm sure the head of research here would be delighted to look into it, if only he were here."

Silence fell over the group. Shunsui scratched his head.

The Captain Commander folded his arms.

"He will be here."

Shinji exchanged a glance with his father. Clearly, not everyone agreed. The questions continued, and Grimmjow unwillingly described the transformation process from hollow to arrancar, with Urahara stepping in now and again to contribute his own research on the matter. When Mayuri did eventually enter the camp- for as much as he liked to cause trouble, it would have been too much even for him to ignore a direct order from the Captain Commander- it was with much pomp and ceremony, which was ruined slightly when Soifon punched him across the face, smearing his white face paint and breaking the tension.

"Captain!" The Captain-Commander's voice boomed across the meeting.

"Sorry, sir. But I felt an indescribable need to vent some frustration."

Mayuri, to his credit, regained his composure with some speed, and raised a hand in the air.

"Captain-Commander, I demand her punishment for assaulting me."

"Demand denied, Captain. Explain yourself."

Mayuri, to his credit, genuinely did seem confused about the reception he was receiving, although nothing else about the whole set up seemed to surprise him, to Ichigo's bafflement. It took him a moment to realise that Mayuri probably had the entire area under subtle surveillance.

"What do I have to explain?"

"Why you left the eight pillars unprotected, and failed to notice when seven of them were destroyed!"

Mayuri raised a long finger.

"That is not fair. I noticed the seventh: the earthquake destroyed several of my Division buildings. Along with quite few in other Divisions, by the way."

Komamura let out a long, low growl.

"The columns are invisible to even most of my sensors: they are entirely new technology that I was forced to develop in a hurry under your _own _orders, sir. I had to create new ones simply to keep track of them, but I did not expect anyone else to be able to see them. To do so is an impossibility."

Urahara, behind the shadow of his fan, smirked.

"My sensors picked them up."

Mayuri's lip curled up at the sound of his former-Captain's voice, but he sensibly decided to ignore the comment.

"That still doesn't explain why you haven't noticed any of the other columns being destroyed."

Mayuri extended his arms in a laconic shrug.

"I downgraded surveillance on them months ago. A report was filed when the fourth column was destroyed, but it was assumed that it was a sensor malfunction, and we ignored it."

Komamura's voice was deep, and full off well-controlled anger.

"Did you not think to send anyone to examine them?"

Mayuri shrugged again.

"Resources. If I had a little more funding, I would have been able to dispense with someone from our current research project- which is the regrowth of internal organs, by the way- to investigate, but without…" He tailed off, perhaps noticing how frosty the room was beginning to feel. He sighed, and tapped one long, curved fingernail against the hilt of his zanpakuto. "I am quite happy to tell you the location of the eighth column."

Kenpachi rolled his eye.

"Then hurry the hell up and tell us, so we can get over there and kill some fuckers."

Mayuri smiled.

"Of course. The eighth column is in the grounds of Karakura High School."

* * *

The night was dark by the time the shinigami had everything set up. Ichigo and Grimmjow sat side by side, suddenly redundant, as they watched the shinigami around them, working under Mayuri and Urahara's complicated, and often conflicting, orders. They were to set up two portals standing opposite each other, one that would open to one world, the other to another. The Divisions had been divided, and when the portals were ready all but for the final opening, they were sent to prepare themselves under the supervision of their Captains.

In the darkness, unwatched, they moved a little closer to each other, so that their sitting bodies rested against each other. The morning would see them in different worlds, under different skies, and neither knew for sure whether one same world would ever see them reunited.

Ichigo exhaled heavily, as he watched what he thought was the Eighth Division run through their training routine in the glow of the lights that they had set up around the valley. Karin had been sent home earlier by their father, who refused under any circumstances to allow her into a battle. She had only been convinced to leave by being reminded of Yuzu, who was alone at home and probably petrified, having heard no news of what had happened. Everyone else had remained, even Inoue, who was currently working with the Fourth Division, who were being divided into two, so medics could be sent with both contingents.

The lights were large and spread around, and Ichigo couldn't help but wonder what it would look like from far away, whether or not the darkness of the valley would make the lights look like stars spread across the night sky. The air was so clear here, he thought, without any pollution. Light travelled so far at night.

"Hey, Grimmjow?"

The arrancar glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"What will happen tomorrow?"

Ichigo watched to see if he could gauge any reaction, but there was little to see. Grimmjow's lip curled a little, and he closed his eyes briefly.

"What d'you think will happen?"

Ichigo shrugged, and his attention was momentarily caught by someone releasing a bankai that he did not recognise in the training area.

"We'll fight, and one side will win."

Grimmjow shrugged.

"That's pretty much it."

"Be careful."

"Don't wish that. Wish that I'll be strong. That way I won't need to be careful."

Ichigo smiled. "I'll wish for both, then."

Grimmjow grunted, but in the darkness their hands briefly met.

"What do you want to do the day after tomorrow?"

Ichigo smiled a small, strange smile.

"We'll get through tomorrow first."

Jidanbo lifted the last piece of the mechanism into place, and the great gates across worlds were finally ready. Ichigo stood up, Zangetsu whispering in his ear.

One portal to the human world. The other the Hueco Mundo.

The dawn would bring war.


	17. Sixteen

Every time I try to write, Kubo screws my mind with the most recent chapters. CANNOT DEAL.

**Chapter Sixteen**

_The world is all gates, all opportunities, strings of tension waiting to be struck. - _Ralph Waldo Emerson

The morning came red on the horizon, bleeding light across the sky as the men and women of the Gotei allied forces stood in regiment, ready to follow their Captains and leaders to different worlds and different ends. They looked around each other, trying to memorize the faces of those they loved so that they could call on them in battle: they all knew that many of their comrades would not return with them, that they themselves might fall in the battle that was about to ensue. All they knew for sure was that it was no wasted fight: if they gave their lives to victory, they would ensure the future of their worlds, of all words, the future of life and death and all that they stood for.

No greater goal has ever been fought for, (though they had fought for the same one before) and as Urahara and Mayuri started the complicated procedure that would open the gates, they stood ready and tense with anticipation.

The two contingents of the Fourth Division stood ready, medical relief tents set up at base camp ready for after the battles, when shinigami would be brought home. A third group were also being left in the Soul Society for those who would be remaining to protect the portals, in case the army of Central 46 took the opportunity to ambush them as they were pre-occupied. That force would be lead by the Captain-Commander, who would remain with the three Captain-less divisions and their Lieutenants to protect the portals both from this side, but also from any who might try and get in to the Soul Society should the battles not go in their favour. Mayuri and his division were being deployed to battle, but Urahara too would remain, to maintain the portals in case anything were to go wrong.

The deployment to Karakura would leave first, as protecting the pillar had been prioritised. Shunsui had been chosen to command this deployment, made up of four divisions. The divisions coming with his own had been chosen based on their and their Captain's experience in the human world. As such, Ukitake, Hitsugaya and Soifon's divisons would be joining them. Tessai and Hachi had spent long into the night discussing with Mayuri which kido might be best used to protect the pillar as soon as they arrived, so that it would not end up being destroyed accidentally in cross-fire, and they would be accompanying them to perform this task as soon as they arrived. The Vizards were split between the two groups: Kensei and Rose would be coming to Karakura, along with Lisa. Yoruichi too would be coming, along with Chad and Uryuu, who both refused to be sent elsewhere: Karakura was their home, and they were determined to protect it. Along with them would go Ichigo. It was decided that, since the pillar was in position in a location he knew, it would be best for him to go to Karakura, to share any information about the location.

That left the second contingent, which would be led by Komamura. Once again, Captains and divisions with experience of battle in the strange conditions of Hueco Mundo were chosen, and so Byakuya, Kenpachi and Mayuri would be accompanying him, along with their divisions for support. This also meant that a large leaning of the non-Captains with bankai would be accompanying them, bulking up their power. Shinji, Love, Hiyori and Mashiro would be the Vizards with them, and Kukaku and Jidanbo would also be there. Ganju too had wanted to go, but his older sister had told him quite firmly that there wasn't a chance in hell she was letting him go into battle. Sulking, he had agreed to stay behind. Along with them, of course, would be Grimmjow, as no one knew this strange place better than he did. Isshin would accompany him, although he would have rather been in Karakura to protect his home. The last member of this group would be a rather controversial last minute addition to the allied forces. Late into the night, a contingent of shinigami had freed the war criminal Halibel, and she had agreed to fight alongside her former Espada comrade in exchange for her freedom. There was some tension about the addition of her, but none came forward to vocally argue against her inclusion, and so there remained a slight tension around the group.

Ichigo watched the crackling energy play across the portal as it began to open under the commands Mayuri was inputting into the mechanism. Hopefully it would open right above Karakura High School, and he had never been more glad that it was a Saturday, and the grounds would be empty. Trying to fight a spiritual battle around his oblivious classmates was _not_ his idea of a good time. He stood in line with the Captains and Vizards in front of the troops: whatever was there when they arrived would be met first with the fury of some of the most powerful beings around.

Suddenly it lit up bright white, and the group had to shield their eyes before it dimmed to a more forgiving light. Shunsui's commands echoed across the valley: zanpakuto already drawn, the first contingent marched on.

Grimmjow watched them leave before turning back to his own allies, also readying themselves for battle. Komamura's voice was stern as he sorted out last minute adjustments to his troops, but in a way having command was strangely reassuring. He had always resented the command of Aizen, but here he found it an acceptable feature. He glanced to his side. Though Halibel was fully healed, and no scars now remained of her previous encounter with this army, there was a pain about her that had not been there before, something dark and primitive behind her eyes that spoke of revenge, that called out in an animalistic manner that he had never seen before in her. She had been hurt; now, she was angry.

Light shone out from the portal in front of him, now, but it was different to the other. He supposed that, to the shinigami, it might have a strange quality to it, but to him it felt distantly familiar, the feeling you get if you return to a house you once lived in but no longer think of as home.

He gripped Pantera, and waited.

* * *

There was a brief, almost blindingly white light as Ichigo stepped through the portal, crossing back to the world of the living and the town that had raised him, the force of his allies behind him and an unknown threat ahead. As the urban landscape appeared before him, he realised that there had been a time not too long before when he had thought that he would never see this sight again: cool sunlight bathing his town, welcoming him home.

They were sent out in the playing fields behind the school, the largest open area near the school and the only place where all of them would be able to emerge together. Shunsui had insisted on that point: strength, he commented to his oldest friend as they were preparing to leave, was in unity.

The brief burst of joy in his chest soon bled away and was replaced with the warmth of adrenaline, and Ichigo felt his hands tingling in expectation for the grip of his zanpakuto, ready for him. The water-whisper of Zangetsu's cloak sounded in his mind, as if his powers were brushing against him internally, ready to burst out.

The school had that strange alien quality in its stillness: the kind of eerie silence that only comes from buildings always full with people when they are suddenly empty: it was uncomfortable to be there, like finding yourself in a hospital with all the beds empty. There was a slight breeze that played with the leaves on the trees, picking up those already on the ground and carrying them a way before dropping them again. The air was wild with static energy, as if the breeze was carrying pure electric along with the leaves.

The pale, watery sunlight of the day lay over the shinigami like silk.

It was far too quiet.

Ahead of them, was the pillar.

Karakura High School was built to a standard model: multiple blocks of grey concrete arranged around each other in a vaguely concentric way, symmetrical lines of windows reflecting the light, making them look blank and opaque, as if the inside of the school buildings were somehow absent from the rest of the world.

Between the ugly concrete blocks rose a shimmering column of light, energy running through it as if it were water, waves rolling around the pillar so that sometimes it was white with power, but other times it was the blue-grey haze of the sky behind it almost fully invisible. As Shunsui began to gesture the shinigami into position, the waves of light began to pulse with a little more frequency, and Ichigo stepped ahead of the rest, up onto the roof of one of the buildings.

He used to have a science lesson in there, he though, before remembering that he still did: real life was still waiting for him as soon as he returned from this disembodied reality that he occasionally found himself in.

They had just began to move forward when a figure materialised in front of them. Ichigo didn't even bother to fight his natural reaction, and let his palm slap his face in frustration.

"Halt!"

Shunsui looked up, a look of faint bemusement hidden by the shadow of his hat.

"Who are you?"

"Halt!" the figure repeated, a little more unsure of itself now, as if it had only just noticed the vast numbers behind the Captain, and how significantly outnumbered he was. He cleared his throat. "Halt! In the name of the Gotei 13!"

Shunsui blinked.

"As assigned protector of Karakura town, I must demand that you withdraw your troops!"

"Afro-san, _shut up_."

Zennosuke squinted down at Ichigo.

"Oh," he said, rather unenthusiastically. "It's you."

Shunsui, in the meantime, had blinked a little more, and then lit his pipe.

"I was informed that there would be a shinigami on duty here. I did not expect them to be quite so… eager."

Zennosuke stared back.

"Captain Kyoraku, at your service."

Zennosuke paled. In his intense excitement at something happening he had completely failed to notice that the army invading on his watch were in fact shinigami, a fact that would not have been quite so lost on someone a little less excitable and a little more observant.

"I see." He cleared his throat. "Well… umm… proceed?"

With full grace, Shunsui tipped his hat at the foolish shinigami.

"We will do so, thank you."

The shinigami began to advance on the pillar: the breeze brushed against one solitary figure watching them.

* * *

Blood stained the white sand an effortless red as bodies fell upon it, both hollow and shinigami. The hollow army had been waiting around Las Noches for the worlds to fall apart, structure and organisation barely maintained by those commanding them, keeping them in place with blade and whip. They were less conscious than they were beast, but despite their lack of intelligence they fought with insanity unmatched by the shinigami, truly bestial, throwing themselves directly onto blades in order to reach the shinigami behind it. Clash of sword with bone was drowned out by screams of joy and pain: washes of rietsu from shinigami releasing shikai came every few minutes, every now and then an unexpected bankai causing the hollows to sniff the air and howl as if tasting blood on the breeze.

Grimmjow lost people in recognised instantly in the melee, occasionally catching sight of someone through the crowd as he fought. He felt exhilarated, full of a rush of adrenaline at being able to throw himself fully into battle once more.

Pantera was singing in his breast.

He saw Kenpachi at one point, and realised that he felt the same way: the great man caught sight of the former Espada, and for a moment they were connected in their joy, both of them more alive now than they had been in a long time. The moment was quickly gone, and the battle pushed on. Grimmjow could no longer tell who was winning out of the two sides: he would turn to see a shinigami falling as often as he would slay a hollow himself. It could have been going either way for all he knew. Loud explosions came from his left, and he saw Kukaku throwing missiles with a terrifying accuracy from Jidanbo's shoulder, planting them straight at the hollows.

He turned and came face to face with a hollow he recognised, though he couldn't place her. Pantera had sliced through her stomach before she could react, and she looked up at him as she pressed her hands to her wound with complete defiance in her eyes, as if even in death he could not destroy her hatred. She fell to the floor, and he moved on.

Another wave of power, and Komamura's colossal bankai was suddenly present in the field, impossible to miss, reaching down and slicing through wave after wave of hollows that pressed against it. Occasionally he saw the shards of Senbonzakura in the air, catching the moonlight as they made their way across the battlefield.

Grimmjow could feel a beast rising up in his chest, a great cat pushing against his skin in joy, almost as if it were trying to get out, as if, if he let it, his skin might tear and flesh might rupture until he became a beast again.

The press of bodies began to ease: he could now make out figures more clearly. There now was Halibel, rage still in her eyes, and Hiyori, blood pouring down her face but fighting on. The stench of rotting flesh was in the air: Mayuri must be close by, he thought, as another hollow met its end on the cold steel of Pantera.

This, this was what living meant.

The already ruinous Las Noches was being further destroyed by both armies, crumbling walls broken by spiritual power and physical force. As the palace crumbled around them Grimmjow felt a strange sense of discomfort: he looked down and realised that he was standing on the black imprint of the number four in the sand where Ulquiorra had died. What would he have made of this?

What would Aizen make of what his dreams had come to? Grimmjow knew he was kept alive still in the Soul Society, and would one day like to see him, to see what he had been reduced to, to see whether the once great man had become like his palace: dust and rubble, the ruins of power.

He felt a claw rake against his arm and break the skin: a surface wound, nothing more, but he turned and rallied on the hollow that had inflicted it with the full force of his rage.

As it fell, Grimmjow became aware of how much quieter it had become. The battle had slowed even further: around him, his allies were dispatching the last of the hollow army. It felt somewhat anti-climactic: they had psyched themselves up to a dramatic stand off, and the battle had been bloody, but not won with any difficulty. Kenpachi too, was looking unimpressed, and as Grimmjow continue to look around he could see the confusion on the faces of many others around him, too.

Halibel made her way over to him, sheathing her sword as she did so. She had some small defensive wounds on her arms, and some angry red marks around one collar bone that promised to blossom into very dark bruises, but other than that she was unharmed.

"I thought there would be more than that."

Grimmjow shrugged, and nodded at Shinji, who was also stepping carefully over bodies towards them. It seemed that Komamura had already sent word back to Soul Society: Fourth Division members were already pouring across the battlefield, in some places doing emergency triage, in others lifting shinigami into stretchers and carrying them back to the portal. Most of the people being taken away he did not recognise, but across the battlefield he saw Mashiro being carried to the portal, though she seemed to be conscious.

"They might have sent more of the army to the pillar than we thought."

Grimmjow didn't bother responding, just stepped away from the rest into the air, moving up to the top of one of the surrounding walls. From that vantage point he could see the ruins of the palace, the mass of dead, the survivors. But above all else, he was confused. Why had this been so easy for them?

He ran a hand through his hair, and whispered to himself.

"Is that all you have for us?"

* * *

"Where are they?"

Beside him, Uryuu and Rukia shrugged. They had advanced on the pillar until they were surrounding it: a line facing outwards, watching for any activity, and a row facing inwards, protecting the two kido masters as they began to secure the last pillar, the final thing keeping the worlds from crashing together in an inconsolable wreck. Contingents were grouped at strategic points around them, all waiting, all poised for action. From next to him, Ichigo could swear that he could hear Toushiro's teeth grinding in frustration.

"Maybe they haven't got here yet."

Ichigo nodded.

"We might have got here before they found out where it was."

Toushiro scowled.

"It seems too easy."

Uryuu pushed his glasses up his nose, the flash of reflected light hiding whatever expression was in his eyes.

"It does, doesn't it?"

Rukia sighed, and Chad patted her shoulder awkwardly.

"I hope Renji and nii-sama are alright."

The tension could have been cut with a blade: it probably would have sung if anyone had. The breeze picked up a little more, as if it were trying to warn them of something, but Ichigo didn't know what. What was he missing?

"Are we sure none of the scouts have picked up any spiritual pressure?"

Toushiro rolled his eyes.

"Yes. And barely any traces, none near here."

"That doesn't seem right."

Uryuu was frowning.

"If they've been destroying the links there should be traces of them all over the town. The last time was only yesterday- there was no time for the spiritual pressure to fade."

Toushiro nodded, face as serious as stone.

"They have no way to hide their rietsu from us, not with the technology we have."

"There wasn't supposed to be any way for them to find the pillars, and they still managed that well enough."

Before Toushiro could respond, there was a loud crack of power from behind them, and the noise of a body being physically thrown from its feet and landing, hard. The three of them turned on their heels, but no enemy was in sight: from the pillar however, there was a thin plume of smoke, and Tessai was flat on his back a few yards away from where he had been standing.

"What happened?"

They moved towards the pillar almost in unison, along with the other Captains and Lieutenants. Tessai's hands were bleeding, but he seemed not to notice as he pulled himself to his feet, his expression wreathed in a frown of concentration and confusion. He appeared not to hear the question, but Hachi shrugged.

"There was some kind of feedback through the kido, a reaction to the incantation as we placed it."

Tessai grunted as he settled himself back next to the pillar.

"I have never felt anything like that."

Shunsui's tone was grave.

"Do you think there is interference?"

Tessai shrugged.

"This energy is entirely new to everyone. The reactions to kido have never been tested before: it could be completely normal. Should we proceed?"

Shunsui nodded, but Ichigo couldn't help but feel a strange and unpleasant tension in the pit of his stomach. It didn't feel right. Something here was very wrong. Without him noticing, Yoruichi appeared at his side, and jabbed him in the ribs with one pointed elbow. He scowled at her, but said nothing in response. She grinned quickly at him, but her face fell back to seriousness quickly.

"Do you feel it too?"

He nodded.

"They should have found it by now."

"I agree. It's pulsing out so much energy under the strain of it holding up the worlds by itself that anyone could feel it. I bet there were kids at school this week who felt their hair stand on end just by being so close."

"But then why aren't they here?"

Behind them, Shunsui tutted, clearly eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Perhaps they already are."

"What do you mean?"

Shunsui smiled enigmatically, in a way that reminded Ichigo oddly of Urahara's ambiguous expressions.

"You haven't noticed?"

* * *

A ripple begins small, but can spread.

Left unchecked, they can become waves.

Ignored, and they can destroy you.

* * *

The fourth division were continuing to move the injured back to base camp, but no word had come through about what was happening on the other side, whether or not they had been successful. At least they could assume that the pillar had not been destroyed, as there had not been any sign of the worlds crashing together. Debate had begun about what should be done with the bodies of the hollows that littered the battle site, but before anything could be decided they began to disintegrate, dissolving into spiritual particles that were absorbed into the dark air.

The shinigami still fit for battle aligned themselves in regiments again once the battlefield was cleared, waiting for further orders. Argument broke out among the Captains about whether to remain here, return to the Soul Society or continue on to search out for any new foes, but Grimmjow left them to it, and began to wander through the newly destroyed palace. Barely anything was left of it now but rubble and the occasional wall. Once he was out of earshot of the army it felt deathly silent, nothing but the sound of his own footsteps and breathing to keep him company. The air felt as if it were muffling everything around him, supressing something.

His ears pricked at the sound of a scuffling noise coming from behind a particularly large block of masonry and he stilled entirely, subduing his spiritual energy as much as he could. There was someone there: the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand on end.

After what felt like the longest time, a voice came from behind the stone.

"Has he gone?"

"I think so."

He… he recognised that voice. How?

He crept towards the block slowly, silently, making sure no one would be able to hear him in the stifling silence. As he reached level with it, a small head popped out from behind the stone, and he grabbed them by the scruff of their neck. As he pulled, he realised that the figure was no bigger than a small child, and he lifted it level with his face.

Large brown eyes stared back at him above an open mouth, drooling a little bit. Her hair was a shock of green, and a mask rested across her head.

Grimmjow stared.

"Tres?"

Two more figures leapt out from behind the rock, jumping at him, but he knocked them both out of the air easily, kicking them back behind the masonry when they tried to get back up.

The child was still staring at him, but she was starting to smile.

"I'm not going to kill you."

She smiled a wide, gummy smile, and her two friends poked their heads out from behind the rock again.

"It is you, the former Tres."

The two glared at him, and replied for her, in sync.

"She's called Nel!"

Ichigo had told him all about the former Tres, living in the desert with her strange former fraccion, having reverted to child-like form just as he had reverted to his panther-like form. The idea was not so strange for him, having done it himself, but he had not thought he would ever run into her. Ichigo had told him that they stayed far away from Las Noches, out of the way of her past. Clearly, that was no longer the case.

"I'm friends with Ichigo, he's told me about you."

"Itsygo!"

Her face split into a wide smile as she heard his name, and he put her back down on the ground, turning to her two former fraccion.

"You're Itsygo's friend?"

He nodded. Ichigo would be so glad to know that she was alive and well: he had worried about her after they came back, about what she was doing. After they had heard about Halibel being captured by the army, he had been even more worried that they would find the former-Espada and torture her for her spiritual pressure too. The fact that she was alive and well, and managing to stay out of troubles way was a much more favourable option.

"What the hell are you doing around here?"

The tall, skinny one shrugged.

"Nel wanted to come look at all the people that were meeting here."

"How long have you been around here?"

The short, squat one shrugged.

"Quite a while, quite a while."

"How haven't you been caught?"

Nel laughed, a chirpy sound that did not fit with their surroundings, and seemed to bounce of the rubble.

"Nel is very good at hiding!"

Grimmjow had a brainwave. It still didn't make sense to him, how easy this had been: if a larger number had left to the human world, then maybe this odd little family had seen something, and would be able to answer their questions. It was worth a shot, even if it was awkward to get anything sensible out of the three of them.

"Have you seen lots of them come and go?"

"Yes!"

"They come and go and come and go and come and go."

Grimmjow sighed, and tried to restrain his impatience.

"Did you see many of them leave this world, go to another one?"

All three of them nodded eagerly.

"Lots and lots!"

"And the scary one that nearly caught us!"

* * *

The figure that had been watching them since they first arrived approached them. His own rietsu was suppressed to the point that even he could barely register it: it was no wonder that the shinigami were passing by without noticing him.

He observed them closely: the ones he knew, and the ones he didn't recognise: the humans, and the dead.

Near to him, two women were staring each other down. Both had long dark hair and looked startlingly similar, holding paperwork in front of them as if it were a shield, as if they could keep the world at bay by putting something between them and it. Actually, after a second glance, only one of them had paperwork: the other seemed to be holding a pornographic novel, but the principle remained the same. Neither were saying anything, but it seemed to be one of those loaded silences that said more than words ever could.

He crept closer over the rooftops.

Every bone in his body was screaming at him to leave: shinigami were his natural enemy. He had been watching the pillar for days undisturbed.

Ryuken Ishida rubbed his eyes. It had been days since he had slept.

Down there, by the pillar, stood his son. He frowned at him as he watched him exchange quiet words with Ichigo Kurosaki, and averted his eyes. For some reason, watching the pair of them made him feel uncomfortable, reminded him of the past, and of a future that had never occurred.

He became suddenly aware of something sharp and cold against the back of his neck.

"What do we have here?"

He sighed. So much for secrecy. He clearly had been awake too long.

In fairness to Ryuken, there was very little that got past Soifon when she was on edge, particularly when Yoruichi was around and she had a point to prove. The prickle of her shikai against his skin would have made a lesser man sweat as they made their way to the rest. As he drew level with them, he raised a weary eyebrow at his son and extended a brief but cursory nod at Kensei and Rose.

"You're late."

Ukitake blinked.

"How so?"

"They've already been and gone."

"Who?"

Ryuken turned to Ichigo, the small crease between his eyebrows deepening.

"You know who I am talking about."

He pulled his arm out of Soifon's grip and, with an expression of distaste, brushed his sleeve down, as if she had left a stain there. He adjusted his glasses, seemingly oblivious to the impatience of those around him.

When it became clear that he was not going to say anything more, Shunsui stuck out his hand towards the unimpressed Quincy.

"Shunsui Kyoraku."

Ryuken ignored his hand.

"I know who you are."

Uryuu shifted, clearly uncomfortable.

"This is my father, Ryuken Ishida."

Ukitake smiled, but it was strained.

"If you would not mind, Ishida-san, would you please tell us exactly what it is you have seen happen? I know that Karakura is your home, and that our arrival might be unwanted, but rest assured, our intention is to protect it to the best of our abilities."

"Because you've done such a good job so far."

"Father."

Father and son glared at each other, tension sparking between the two of them. No shinigami dared speak as clear animosity flared between the two of them. After a long moment they looked away from each other, and Ryuken rolled his eyes. Though neither said anything, something had clearly been decided, and father cleared his throat whilst son stared resolutely into the sky. Ichigo stared between the two, slightly baffled.

Uryuu cleared his throat, but it was his father that spoke.

"They found the pillar three days ago."

"Then why did they not destroy it?"

Ryuken shrugged at Shunsui, whose expression was turning slowly to one of realisation.

"Perhaps, Captain, because they knew you were coming."

Behind them, from where Tessai and Hachi were kneeling around the pillar, came a loud, and ominous, crackle of energy.

* * *

Grimmjow sighed.

"But did they leave?"

Nel nodded furiously.

"They went away!"

"Not all of them, but most of them!"

"All the scary ones!"

"They made a big hole in the air then went through it."

"And then it went 'pop' behind them!"

"They made some stay and then they went!"

"They made a trap then left!"

Under the cold light of a dead moon, in the ruins of a palace, Grimmjow could have sworn that he felt his heart stop beating.


	18. Seventeen

Hello all!

Once again, major apologies for the overdue update! I know it keeps happening, and I really am sorry.

It has been a very busy few months: I was completely absorbed writing my dissertation, and doing my final exams. I finished my degree (with a first class, which I am very chuffed about), but had to move home for the summer for work, leaving my long term partner behind. Then I had to say goodbye to my best friend, who has gone on her year abroad to Korea- I miss her already, but am very proud of her! So I've been working like mad to save up for my Masters, and have had a couple of short stories published in a magazine as well. I moved into my new apartment last week, and my Masters started today! So it's been hectic, but I am very happy, and finally have a slow couple of weeks to catch up on my writing. I am really happy to give you the next chapter, with the knowledge that the end is in sight, and the promise that this will all be finished by Christmas.

And that _really _is a promise.

Lovely readers, I thank you a thousand times over for your patience and loyalty to this story, you have no idea how much it is appreciated.

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

_What matters most is how well you walk through fire_ - Charles Bukowski

Standing in the air above the shinigami who had remained in the Soul Society, Urahara tasted the breeze with the tip of his tongue. Such an action might seem frivolous on any other person, but it was remarkably clear that Kisuke Urahara did nothing without a purpose, and even the most mundane actions were done deliberately.

No one knew this better than the Captain Commander, who had seen his former Captain grow from boy to man, and knew the subtle nuances of his inscrutable character far better than Kisuke would care to admit. The old man watched his face for any sign of expression or feeling: it was hard to tell whether Urahara knew he was being watched by the older man, and equally difficult to judge whether the Captain Commander cared.

All that could be told from observing this strange and silent tableau was that _something_ was happening. Hisagi shifted uncomfortably, and turned to his fellow Lieutenants at his side.

"What do you think is going on?"

Momo bit her lower lip.

"I'm sure everything is fine."

Hisagi nodded, but his eyes kept being drawn back to the strange and immobile faces of the Captain Commander and Urahara. Beside him, he could hear the almost imperceptible tapping of Kira's fingers as they beat a steady rhythm on the hilt of his zanpakuto, the only give away from his stoic friend that he was anything but his normally composed and unflappable self.

Hisagi knew his anxiety would be written across his face if he didn't struggle to keep it calm and neutral. Momo had never succeeded in mastering that particular skill, but Izuru had never needed it: his face seemed naturally to never show signs of worry, regardless of the situation.

Right now though, the sharp pains of a pressure headache were beginning around Kira's temples, and he thought he might yell at anyone if they tried to talk to him.

He did _not _enjoy waiting, as patient as his peers sometimes thought he was.

Hisagi shifted again. Being left behind when all the other divisions- bar, of course, Momo and Izuru's- went to fight battles to save the various worlds had left him feeling displaced and despondent, useless to the cause. The lack of Captaincy was starting to piss him off, though he had a feeling that Kira would be quite happy if he could run his division without any other leadership forever. But without a Captain, the division, and himself, were viewed as lacking.

Above the dispirited Lieutenants, Urahara took a step towards the gate leading to Hueco Mundo, and raised a hand, palm flat, towards the gaping entrance. Members of the Fourth Division were coming back and forth through it with the injured and dead, bringing with them word of their swift victory. No action had begun yet in Karakura, but after a moment Urahara turned and took a couple of steps back towards that second gate, arm still up, hand still outstretched.

Momo's fingers kept intertwining, rubbing at her own palms.

"What do you think he is doing?"

Hisagi shrugged, but there was a flash of understanding in Kira's eyes.

"I think he's trying to feel for something."

His fellow Lieutenants looked at him in confusion, but he appeared deep in thought, and did not notice.

Kira, however, was right. Urahara's ability to create gates through to the world was far more advanced that most people appreciated: to make one that size with that longevity required a great deal of extended concentration and understanding of temporal shifts, both of which he was more than capable of. This also meant that he had to constantly focus on the energy that spiraled in and out of the gates, and now something was distinctly _wrong _about it. It was making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and he did not like it.

Someone was doing something that they shouldn't have been.

It was as if someone had tainted the energy and spiritual rietsu that was flowing between the three worlds: as if someone knew what they were doing.

He had not anticipated this.

Urahara blinked, and as he turned to the Captain Commander his expression was more open than the old man had seen it in a very long time.

"Something is happening."

* * *

In Karakura, the throb of the pillar was getting louder, and for the first time in almost two hundred years Shunsui found himself unsure of what was the best course of action. It had been almost fifteen minutes since Ryuken had informed them that the other army had already found the pillar and the pillar had discharged energy which had knocked Tessai and Hachi unconscious, and for now all he could think of to do was to continue to protect the pillar, despite the gnawing in the pit of his chest that something was about to go terribly wrong.

There was nothing more for them to learn: all Ryuken had been able to see was a small contingent gather around the pillar for a few hours, and then leave. All he had been able to sense had been a strange compressed energy, but nothing more than that.

Ukitake was stood beside him, a handkerchief pressed against the corner of his mouth, the sweet but unpleasant smell of lavender ointment tinging the air.

"How are they getting on?"

Shunsui nodded back towards Tessai and Hachi, who had been moved a little away from the pillar. The palms of their hands were severely burnt, and they had still not regained consciousness. Strange crackles of energy kept playing out across their hands and lower arms, and no one was quite sure whether that was a good thing or not.

Ukitake shrugged. Shunsui turned to his old friend, and there was a look of almost pain in his eyes.

"There has been no response from the Captain Commander."

Ukitake frowned.

"Have the transmissions gone through?"

His friend shrugged, with no answer either way to give. There was no way to tell if their transmissions had been received: they always had been in the past, but he wouldn't put it past the strange pulsing energy that the pillar was emitting to be scrambling their communications systems.

"What shall I do, Jyuushiro?"

Ukitake pulled the handkerchief away from his mouth and balled it up before either of them could see the small rose of blood that had blossomed on the white linen.

"You're in charge, Shunsui." He looked at his old friend in all seriousness. "You have to make the decisions now."

Shunsui sighed.

"It should have been you, old friend."

Jyuushiro shook his head. "You've always been in denial. You were born to lead, Shunsui." He turned, and smiled, and for a moment Shunsui could have sworn that Jyuushiro was a young man again. But then the moment past, and he could see the age that had crept upon the two of them.

Jyuushiro's eyes crinkled at the corners as he repeated himself. "You _were _born to be a leader, Shunsui. Just as I was born to follow you. You just need to point me in the right direction."

Another strange pulse of energy ruffled his hair, and he pressed his arm against his old friend's.

"Well, we can't abandon our position until the pillar is secure. Keep trying to send a com through to the Captain Commander." He raised his voice. "Captain Soifon!"

She turned and nodded at him, eyes a little wary.

"Take a small team back to the portal, I'm concerned our communications are fried. Get a team of medics out here as soon as you can."

She nodded, but before she could move anywhere a strange sound echoed around them. Resonating slowly, quietly, around the school buildings, it was impossible to tell where it was coming from, the sound lost as it bounced between the buildings. However, as it grew in volume, it became clear what it was.

Ichigo resisted the urge to shudder as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and his skin pricked as if a cold breeze had run over him.

Echoing through the school buildings was the sound of laughter.

* * *

Why couldn't he move any faster?

His heartbeat was so loud it felt as if his blood might burst his veins, as if they would disintegrate from the pressure. His limbs were leaden, solid, useless.

_Why couldn't he move any faster?_

The sky above him seemed to laugh at his attempts to get back to the army: before he was even out of the rubble of Las Noches there was a great cracking sound, like thunder renting through a rage-grey sky, but there were no clouds. There was a flash of white light, but there was no lightning. A storm, but as unnatural a thing as a man could imagine.

As he rounded the last corner and the army came back into sight, a plume of dust rose into the sky, dark and forbidding. Ahead of him, beyond where the allies now stood, was one of the last great walls of Las Noches.

The white expanse of it loomed into the black sky, a presence that seemed ancient and memorial though they had stood but a few scant months in reality. Now, the last section of the monumental building was cracking along the base, dust and sand shifting around it, slowly leaning.

Pantera was padding in his head for his attention, but he couldn't hear what she was screaming over the noise of rending stone.

The wall began to fall towards the army.

Before it could do any damage, it was met with the force of Kenpachi Zaraki's partially released spiritual pressure, and promptly disintegrated. Probably due to the sheer force and pressure of his rietsu, although we cannot rule out that it disintegrated in terror.

Grimmjow stopped short, every muscle in his body aching with the sudden stillness, at the tension.

A wall? Was that the trap?

Pantera's claws were needling at his mind, trying to get his attention, but before he could do see or do anything, before he had time even to think, there was another sound, quieter this time, rippling over them like a pennant caught in the breeze. More noise joined in with the cacophony of people: battle cries as the army began to realise something was wrong, shinigami calling their releases, the metallic whisper of Senbonzakura all around them. The noise of rietsu singing together in the air: the burbling of Mayuri's bankai, which had not been withdrawn.

Suddenly Isshin was at his side, face serious, a smear of someone else's blood across his cheek.

"Grimmjow, what is it?"

He shook his head. Why couldn't they all shut the hell up?

Hueco Mundo was normally filled with an oppressive, heavy silence that he had thought at times would drive him mad, but this noise was worse, blocking out something that Pantera could hear but he couldn't, something _important. _

He turned to Isshin as the rippling noise grew louder.

"They knew we were coming."

But before Isshin's face could even register surprise, there was a blinding white light. A pulse of sound that felt like a vibration running through every fibre in the body. Screams.

Then, suddenly, silence.

The light faded slowly: sand brushed over something which had not been there before. The blackness of the sky stared down at the army, most of whom had fallen to their knees at the light and sonic onslaught. Those that still stood stared at each other across the backs of their comrades. Grimmjow could see the bulk of Kenpachi, Komamura just behind him. Was that Byakuya, next to Renji? Isshin and Halibel were close to him. Jidanbo had fallen to his knees, cradling his ears, but was so tall he was still easily recognisable. As Grimmjow watched, a thin stream of blood began to flow with a worrying strength from his colossal right ear lobe.

There were others standing too but none close enough for him to make out their faces: his sight was dimmed, blurred and pale around the edges from the white light that had hit them. They were just shadows rising up from a sea of black shinigami uniform. The army itself was moving a little, though many were clearly unconscious.

The grey fading around the edges of his vision began to diminish, though the ringing sound in his ears was getting worse. He felt a little dizzy, and watched a figure move towards him without blinking, trying to fight it.

As it came closer, Mayuri's monstrous head gear and facial paint came into focus. He seemed relatively unaffected compared to the others. His eye was caught by a sudden movement: Renji had finally fallen to his knees, hands cradling his head.

Mayuri's voice was cool and collected, and made the ringing in Grimmjow's ears wail.

"We are stuck."

An unpleasant, acidic smell reached them, and they turned. Behind them, Mayuri's bankai was pressing up against what looked like thin air, drooling an unpleasantly gooey substance. Instead of dripping downwards though, the excretion was _running _in a stream, like water down a window pane.

Or, as the thought occurred to him, like an unpleasant acid running down some kind of force field.

Well, that was just peachy.

Whilst the rest had been watching Mayuri's bankai, Kenpachi had picked up a handful of the white dust from the collapsed building and thrown it. It hung, clinging to the force field's static charge like a strange, thin cloud. Ikkaku followed suit, until the ring around them was obvious.

Shinji blinked.

"That was a surprisingly good idea."

Kenpachi grunted in response.

Hiyori appeared, walking over the backs of several unconscious shinigami in order to do so. She was still bleeding from the wound on her forehead, but it was slowing. Every now and again she reached up to wipe it from her eyes.

"What is it?"

Mayuri poked at it.

"Nothing more than a simple spiritual pressure trap. I would guess it was timed: when enough spiritual pressure was released in the area, when we first arrived, a countdown would have begun, until the trap was sprung."

Komamura growled.

"Then the beasts they left here were only to draw us in: they meant us to kill them."

Mayuri nodded.

"It was quite a clever ruse. Very simplistic, but sometimes that is the most effective when your opponent doesn't suspect it."

Grimmjow scowled.

"Stop admiring them and get us the fuck out of here."

Mayuri rolled his eyes. Under the bright white make up the effect was quite alarming, which was probably the point.

"It will only take me around five minutes to unravel the structure."

A loud beep cut off any further conversation. From across the trap, Ikkaku's voice echoed over to them.

"Ah, Captains? There is a timer here."

Komamura growled again, a low and angry noise.

"Bring it here! I should have known there would be even more to this. They've rigged the trap to destroy us, not contain us. Kurotsuchi, speed is of the essence. Madarame, how long do we have?"

Ikkaku's face was uncharacteristically pale as he drew level with them, a small, innocuous looking instrument in his hands.

The clock face, rapidly ticking downwards, read sixty seconds.

Even under his facepaint, Mayuri seemed to go pale.

* * *

The laughter was growing louder.

Ichigo shifted slightly, his zanpakuto already in his hands as another voice joined the laughter. It was a strange voice, hoarse but somehow feminine, lilting a little as it sang strange, disjointed melodies.

Shunsui's voice was deep and threatening in response.

"We do not take kindly to these games. Who is there?"

A head appeared around the corner of a building, white blonde hair catching the feeble sunlight. Her face was slashed with scar tissue, some old and some new, and there was a light in her eyes that didn't say much about her state of mind. Her zanpakuto was a short sword strapped to her upper arm, and as she span around the allies saw that her tunic had no back, and that her mask was a long line of bone running down her spine.

"Who are you?"

She shrugged, and smiled at them.

Ichigo scowled at Shunsui. Why wasn't he giving the order to attack? They came all this way expecting battle, why hold back now?

Toushiro stepped towards the woman, one hand outstretched. He took another, and another, and then he stopped. His hand seemed to grasp something in the air and he cried out, falling to his knees.

"Shiro!"

"It's alright, Kurosaki. Do not come any closer." Toushiro let go of whatever it was in the air, and got unsteadily back to his feet.

The arrancar was much closer now, but Toushiro did not back away. She was frowning.

"How did you know something was there?"

Toushiro smirked: even weakened, he had a talent for being exasperating.

"It is obvious, isn't it?"

He walked slowly back to the other Captains.

"I don't know when it appeared, but it is definitely the cage that was described to us."

Ichigo scowled again. He felt quite out of the loop.

"What cage?"

Toushiro turned to him, rolling his eyes.

"Do you remember when the Tres Espada was captured by the Hueco Mundo army? She described her imprisonment to us- she was kept in a cage made from the abandoned technology of Aizen and the Espada, that was able to absorb the spiritual power of those trapped inside."

The gears clicked slowly into place in Ichigo's head.

"How did we not notice them doing this?"

Toushiro looked irritated, and for once Ichigo did not think it was because of him. Having something like this slip past his attention would surely have been a blow to his ego. Ukitake patted Ichigo consolingly on the arm.

"I would imagine it fell into place when the energy knocked our Kido specialists, but it does not matter how or when they did so, but how we get out of this bind. That must be the next question we address."

Shunsui nodded.

"We must." He turned to the other Captains. "Move all but the fewest people from the pillar, focus on the barrier, search for weaknesses and fractures with your rietsu, but do not touch it physically."

He took a step towards the arrancar, addressing her in a clear, calm voice.

"What is it that you want?"

She shook her head.

"Nothing."

"Then why are we here?"

She skipped around the corner of a building, only to reappear around another, as if playing a strange game of hide and seek. She came closer to the barrier, until she was almost pressed up against it, and there was something strangely intimidating by her sudden silence, her wide smile. She stared at Hitsugaya, and ran the point of her tongue along her lower lip. She dragged her response out, enunciating each word clearly, so that everyone could hear and understand the intention.

"Because shinigami are just, _so_, delicious."

* * *

Mayuri grabbed the box from Ikkaku, and began frantically trying to find a way into it as the seconds ticked slowly down. Grimmjow growled under his breath.

"What the hell will that thing do to us?"

Isshin shook his head. "I'm not sure I want to know."

Next to them, Halibel was frowning.

"They only had the technology to create one energy cage, and since they have no used that, we must assume the team in Karakura has been captured in it. It is imperative we must escape and release them before they perish: to do so is simple, from the outside, but impossible from within."

Grimmjow felt the dampness of blood on his hands from where his nails had cut half-moons into his palms.

"How long will they have?"

Halibel shrugged. "They kept me in there for weeks. But if they want to destroy them quickly, they could reduce it down to a matter of an hour."

Inside his head, Pantera scored the earth with her claws.

Mayuri gave up on trying to gain access to the interior of the box quickly, just as the countdown went past the fifty second mark.

Komamura seemed enraged, and was clenching and unclenching his fists. "Think, man, there must be a way to stop that timer!"

Mayuri did not deign to answer him, but Byakuya was frowning. "They would not have left us with a device that we could so easily halt."

Isshin turned to Halibel as the Captain raised his zanpakuto to the box.

"Think, is there anything that this could be? Did they mention anything to you, another weapon, anything at all?"

Halibel's eyes were shadowed as she stood, silently, for several seconds.

"Perhaps."

Forty seconds.

Mayuri turned to her, a bead of sweat cutting a line through his face paint. Though he knew that his genius surpassed all others, he rarely had to work to such a timeframe, and he had no knowledge or experience with this sort of technology, no tools or team around him, not even a way to open the infernal contraption.

"What do you know?"

She shook her head.

"I am not sure. They spoke of a weapon similar to the cage, that worked in the same way, draining energy in a surrounding space, but not to be siphoned off to consume: simply to kill."

Shinji nodded. "Hence the forcefield, to contain us."

Zaraki snarled.

"Like hell I'm dying like this. What the hell do we do?"

Beside him, Ikkaku nodded. "Can't we just destroy the box?"

Byakuya rolled his eyes.

"Do not be ignorant."

Shinji waved his hands. "Fighting will get us nowhere. Kurotsuchi, is there anything we can do?"

Thirty seconds.

But the Captain did not even bother to respond, involved as he was in trying to crack the box. Hiyori was tugging at her hair in frustration, Renji rubbing his face over and over again. They were all watching Mayuri as he pawed the box, all secretly hoping that at any moment he would exclaim in joy and the slowly ticking numbers would freeze.

It seemed to Grimmjow that the world was in slow motion as he wracked his mind for a solution, for any solution.

* * *

Ten minutes had passed, and no one could find a flaw in the cage. Ichigo's limbs felt a little heavy, as if he was very tired, though not long ago he had felt energised, and ready for anything.

Beside him, Ishida and Chad had sat, heavily, on the floor, as if standing up was too difficult for them.

He was not alone: several shinigami had passed out, and many more had slumped to the ground, exhausted.

It had been Toushiro who had realised that this cage was the same construction that Halibel had been trapped in, information that all of the shinigami were now wishing they had paid more attention to.

The arrancar had danced away several minutes before, and now Soifon was pacing around the interior of their prison, like a lion stalks the confines of its cage. She seemed to be staring intently at the cage, and the prickle of her energy as she searched for any weakness. Near to Ichigo, Yoruichi had settled herself on the ground, though not through exhaustion. She sat cross-legged, eyes closed, as if trying to conserve every piece of her energy.

Rukia walked slowly over to them, her eyes worried.

"Hachi and Tessai's pulses are weakening. I don't know how long they can survive this."

She was walking heavily, and her foot caught on something. She fell to her knees, only just managing to stop herself falling face first into the ground, and stayed where she had fallen.

As Ichigo looked around, he could see that more and more of his fellow shinigami were collapsing. To his left, Nanao was propping herself up against a low wall, as if she were refusing to sit down fully, and just beyond her, he could see that Matsumoto was bent over, her hands on her knees, as if she were nauseous. Kensei was rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, and Ukitake was worryingly pale.

Though Ichigo was aware that his spiritual powers were much stronger than average, he had no idea how deep the well of his rietsu truly was. The cage had been constructed to consume energy as quickly as possible, at the rate that it could be drawn from the victim. The arrancar had thought it would take an hour to drain them all to the point of death, but the sheer volume of power that exuded from Ichigo Kurosaki meant that it would happen in at least half the time.

Ukitake coughed, and this time he was not able to ignore the blood on his handkerchief.

* * *

He couldn't die.

He couldn't die.

He couldn't die here, in this dead world, with Ichigo so far away.

He couldn't.

He had been near death more times than he could remember: he had stared it in the face like a friend, and had sometimes welcomed it like a brother, but never before had he felt such an impossible, unimaginable fear. He couldn't die now, he couldn't: he had spent so long searching for a reason to live, and now he had finally found it.

There were restless mutters around him, but he ignored them, listening instead to the slow padding of Pantera's paws in his mind as she wove around boulders and shrubs. She had nothing to say: in this moment she grieved for their death as much as Grimmjow did.

This was not how it was supposed to end.

Not from such a dirty trick.

He couldn't die.

But the countdown continued, regardless.

* * *

All were on their knees now bar Ichigo, Shunsui and Hitsugaya, though it looked like it was starting to become a struggle for the small Captain. No more arrancar had appeared, they were entirely alone.

Ichigo blinked, slowly.

They were going to die, here and now.

And that kind of sucked.

He wished he had had longer to say goodbye to his Dad, and to Grimmjow.

There had been so much he hadn't had time to say.

He felt so tired, so impossibly tired, the sunlight seemed suddenly so much sharper, and now it looked like the arrancar was coming back, he could see her approaching, and wished he had the energy to yell at her, to scream at her, to break the world down and to destroy them all for the underhand trick they had pulled, her limbs were flashing white in the brightness, and her dark hair was swinging as she ran, and-

Wait.

* * *

Twenty seconds.

Kukaku swore under her breath, and Yachiru found herself reaching to Kenpachi, hoping that he could somehow shift the strange coldness of fear that she felt, for the first time in her life.

Grimmjow could feel the familiar rage building inside him as the numbers reached fifteen: he had been cheated out of a noble death.

Kenpachi radiated a similar anger, and Grimmjow knew that he was feeling the same way: this was no way for a warrior to die. .

Ten seconds, and beside them, Halibel sighed, and it was laced with so much sadness and regret that Grimmjow could almost feel it on the air.

She shook her head.

"There is no other way."

And at that the Espada stepped forward, drawing her zanpakuto out of its sheath as she did so, the prickle of her rietsu tangible on the air. She did not look at anyone as she reached for the box, and for a moment Mayuri seemed to hesitate, but there must have been something in her face that stopped him from keeping hold of it.

It seemed suddenly much larger in her hands.

She turned to Grimmjow, and there was a ghost of sadness about her eyes as she nodded to him.

She raised her zanpakuto up to her face, resting it against her forehead, her lips kissing the blade. She clutched the box to her middle as the numbers reached five, and for a moment, Grimmjow could see her eyes, clear as anything, and he realised what it was she was about to do.

There was fear in that last stare, but there was peace, as well.

Four.

Her voice was just a whisper, but seemed to echo, so that all standing near to her could hear.

Three.

"_Tiburón_," and there was only the slightest of shakes in her voice.

Two.

"Destroy."

One.

* * *

Dark hair, the arrancar hadn't had dark hair, and now Ichigo was shaking his head and trying to wake himself because she wasn't tall enough to be the arrancar either, and she was sprinting towards them, and then all of a sudden the air seemed alive with energy and his hair was being moved by the wind again, and someone was yelling his name, and for a moment he thought that it must have been Grimmjow but the voice was wrong, and then before he knew it someone had thrown themselves at him, their arms around him.

Then they slapped him across the face, and he began to wake up.

He stared at the person in front of him, baffled.

"Karin?"

She pointed a finger at him.

"And that, brother, is the last time you ever tell me to sit and wait for you at home."

All around them, the shinigami were slowly beginning to sit up, blinking. Toushiro strode over to them shaking his head as if trying to wake up.

"How did you open the cage?"

Karin crossed her arms.

"You're welcome, by the way. And you could see it from the outside, sort of a…" she trailed off, her hands tracing an uncertain shape in the air. "A- I don't know, sort of like a door, but not."

"How did you open it?"

For a moment, she looked a little bit embarrassed.

"I just, sort of, stabbed it with my zanpakuto?"

At the sight of Hitsugaya's incredulous expression she went on the defensive.

"What? It worked, didn't it?"

Shunsui patted her on the shoulder, having come up to the group after helping Ukitake to his feet again.

"And very glad we are too. I think, if not for you, we might have been in some serious trouble."

Karin's eyebrows shot up.

"I think you already _were_."

* * *

Grimmjow had realised what she was about to do just before she had done it, and had taken a step towards her, though he did not know what he had intended to do to stop her.

She had made up her mind, and he cursed her in his head for it, even though, if it worked, she would have saved them all.

She didn't owe the shinigami _this._

As she had released her bankai, a great typoon of water surrounded her, blocking her from view. Grimmjow had seen the release of her bankai before, and the water was normal, but it had never appeared like this: rather than normal water, it seemed charged with some form of defensive pressure, as if she had somehow imbued a blocking measure with the release.

It seemed strangely anticlimactic for only a moment, when something began to happen within. It started with a dull thump, as one might hear an explosion from a distance, that seemed to shake the very earth they stood on despite the lack of volume, and then light was shining through the water, reflecting in a thousand directions, casting beams on all of them.

It would almost have been a beautiful moment, had it not been shot with the muffled sounds of screams from within the makeshift force-field surrounding the former Espada.

Grimmjow could not tear his eyes away from the sight of it, from the dark form just visible within the water and the light that shot through the prison of water.

Only seconds past, though it seemed aeons longer.

He glanced around, and was glad to see that no one was averting their eyes, that no one was trying to pretend that she was not dying for them. If anyone had been looking anywhere else, the great rage that had built inside him might have pushed him into forcing them to watch, whether they wanted to or not.

But the shinigami surrounding her stared, some with sorrow and some with a strange sort of pride, though they had barely known the arrancar inside the water: some had only carefully blank faces, and Mayuri had an expression of fascination on his face. Kenpachi's expression was respectful, probably as respectful as it might ever have appeared, and Grimmjow was glad, deep inside him, that they all had to stand there and listen to her screams, could not hide from her sacrifice.

If any other member of the Espada were to survive, he thought, they could not have asked for any better than Tia Halibel.

Then, suddenly, cracks began to form within the water as it separated, and the light grew painfully bright. The water seemed to churn, and began to boil, steam rising from it, and he had a sudden realisation that something was going terribly, terribly wrong.

Grimmjow thought he could see a blackened hand reaching towards him, burnt and crippled unrecognisably, and then the light followed.

A great pressure seemed to hit his chest, and though he could smell his own burning flesh it didn't hurt.

He couldn't feel a thing.

And then, after a moment of pure brightness, it all went black.


	19. Eighteen

**Chapter Eighteen**

_If the stars should appear but one night every thousand years how man would marvel and stare_ - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Ichigo could almost feel his energy coming back to him, as if there was a well inside himself that he had not noticed until it ran dry, and now could feel filling again. It was a refreshing, wonderful feeling, not dissimilar to the sensation of a cold drink when you're hot and thirsty, when you can feel it running down your throat into your body.

He turned to Hitsugaya, who always seemed to know the most in these situations.

"Shiro, can you feel your energy pouring back into you? Do you think Karin broke it properly, and released all the energy it had taken from us?"

"Don't call me Shiro."

Ichigo rolled his eyes at the automatic response as the Captain seemed to dwell on Ichigo's question.

"I do not believe that is the case. If it was, the unconscious shinigami would wake, and that is clearly not happening. There are also quite a few of our shinigami who remain very weak, though conscious, who would have regained their strength."

Ichigo nodded.

"Then why do some of us seem to be feeling better?"

Toushiro rubbed at his cheek thoughtfully.

"The shinigami who are regaining strength are exclusively the stronger among us. These are the shinigami who are used to using much more rietsu at a time, and so our souls must regenerate rietsu at a greater speed. I would suggest that, at the speed in which it was being taken from us, our souls reacted by trying to regenerate with more speed. I think that metabolising speed has temporarily remained, which is why we seem to be feeling stronger."

Ichigo nodded, only half understanding what Toushiro had said to him. The gist of it, however, had been clear: though a few of them were feeling better, the bulk of their force was still incredibly weak.

He looked around. Shunsui had had all of the unconscious shinigami moved around the pillar, and those who were severely weakened around them, whilst the few who were still fit to fight kept a perimeter around them, on edge in case any other form of attack was to come.

The communications had come back online, with several messages from base that had not been received. Responses, updates, and requests for back up and medics had been sent, but Yoruichi had also gone in person, to ensure this time that all of their information was received.

Karin nudged him.

"So, what do we do now?"

Ichigo shrugged.

"Keep to our position, and wait for news. That's all there is to do."

Karin rolled her eyes. "You'd have thought a war would have been more interesting."

Ichigo tried not to smile. He was more than happy with a boring afternoon if it meant keeping his sister safe. Though he was unhappy that she was here, he could not deny that they would have been screwed without her, and could not send her away now. It was a slightly scary thought, but he suspected that he might have to start treating his little sister like a grown up.

There was no sign of the enemy, however, which was a great relief. Soon after medics arrived, though they looked harried and unhappy. Ichigo noted immediately that this was nowhere near the full team of medical shinigami, and it was also very clear that no back up had, as of yet, arrived.

They began to transport the unconscious shinigami back to Soul Society, as little could be done for these shinigami then and there: what they needed, primarily, was rest rather than medical attention. Not much longer after they started Captain Unohana appeared, and Ichigo quickly slipped over to where she was standing with Captains Shunsui and Ukitake.

"What news from the others?"

She sighed, rubbing her eyes. "There was a confrontation on arrival, which they won easily, but there was a trap triggered, like yours, and we have casualties. After the trap fell-" and she waved a finger at Shunsui, who had just opened his mouth. "And don't ask me what happened, because I don't know, then another wave of the enemy attacked. They're still fighting them off now, and I know they've had to send reinforcements."

Shunsui nodded, and she turned before Ichigo had a chance to ask her anything, already leaving the site.

"That'll be why none have come to us yet. If they had to send more men, I would assume that the rest of the enemy army attacked en masse, hoping to overpower them with sheer numbers. The trap in Hueco Mundo must have been more of a risk than ours."

He clapped Ichigo around the shoulders, nearly knocking him over.

"At least your sister saved the day. Long live the Kurosaki family, one and all."

Ichigo caught Ryuuken give them an unpleasant look at that comment, and could not really understand why.

That Ryuuken remained with them, even though the prison had fallen, was surprising everyone. Uryuu and his father were more fighting fit than most: as the Quincy could absorb rietsu from the atmosphere, rather than having to generate it, they were able to restore with greater ease. Why the older, bitter Quincy remained no one seemed to want or dare to ask.

They settled down, hoping that all was well on the other side.

* * *

Isshin felt blood splatter across his face, but had no time to wipe it away.

As soon as the bright light had cleared, the enemy had attacked. There had been no time to see what had happened to Halibel, or any of the people surrounding her, as the army had poured upon them with a furious speed. He realised now that the bastardised hollows had known that there could be loopholes in their trap, and had been waiting in case they had escaped.

They clearly hoped to succeed with brute force and the sheer weight of their numbers, but even though the size of the army was intimidating, they were no match for the shinigami in terms of skill and speed, and dispatching them was not extremely difficult.

As his zanpakuto took care of another creature he tried, desperately, to see who else was left.

He still did not fully understand what Halibel had done to contain the weapon, or how she had fared afterwards. He remembered the beautiful play of lights, and the movement of her body, silhouetted in the water: he remembered the water starting to crack, and light pouring from it. After that he had been blinded, and then the army had attacked. He could see Kenpachi, he had already seen Shinji and Byakuya, and several others. Most of his comrades were still standing, and some he knew were there even without seeing them: the acidic stench of Mayuri's bankai was still prevalent, and he could feel the strange pressure of the Vizards even through the battle.

Then more shinigami arrived, reinforcements from the Soul Society, and the pressure of numbers began to ease.

Isshin could feel an ache beginning in his bones that he had never felt in his younger years: age seemed to open the door to exhaustion much more willingly than youth ever did.

And the crowds were slowly parting at the enemy were slaughtered, and now there were medics appearing, which meant that they had to be winning, they wouldn't be sent in unless the battle was going their way, but there were still enemies on every side.

There was a nagging fear deep in his chest, because there was someone that he still hadn't seen, the person who had been standing closest to Halibel when her shield broke.

He still hadn't seen Grimmjow.

There was a pain in his chest, the part of him reserved exclusively for his children, and he knew that this would only be a fraction of what his son would feel if the tide of battle had turned against them.

And then a hollow fell, and he stumbled over its limbs away from where he had been standing, and he could see them.

Two figures, fallen on the ground, two among many now but still so different from the piles of hollows that surrounded them.

What had once been Halibel, burnt and blackened beyond recognition, her arms still clutching the box to her. It was as white as it had ever been, as if nothing had ever happened to it, but the numbers were gone, and there was a stillness about them both that spoke only of death.

And next to her,

Next to her,

Another body.

Scorch marks scarring his chest, eyes closed, zanpakuto fallen at his side.

So still.

* * *

"Karin, I'm not arguing with you."

She stuck her lip out.

"Damn right you're not. I'm staying here."

Ichigo shook his head.

"You need to get home. The battle's won on the other side, reinforcements are on their way to secure the pillar. You need to get back home. You need to tell Yuzu that everything is okay."

Karin glared up at him. "Yuzu understands that she has to be left behind, Ichigo. She does, but if you think she's going to be happy with just me coming home, you're very much mistaken."

Ichigo rubbed his forehead with his hand, and his sister's expression softened.

"Come with me, nee-san. Just for ten minutes, so she can see you're okay."

And Ichigo relented, because it is very difficult to argue with sibling guilt, and excused himself from pillar duty as soon as the reinforcements arrived with stories of the easy victory in Hueco Mundo. He found himself in high spirits as he returned to his family home, only occasionally punctuated with worry about the casualties.

Mayuri had arrived with the reinforcements, his face paint smudged and looking a little worse for wear, to secure the pillar. He had little to add to their information about what had happened in Hueco Mundo, but Ichigo was convinced that was more to do with his unwillingness to talk to them than a lack of knowledge.

The securing of the pillar would take several hours, and would only be a temporary measure. It was still incredibly weak, holding a weight meant to be shared between the other pillars, and Mayuri made no one feel better by reminding them that it would only hold for a few days, at the most. Soon it would start to crumble, disintegrate, and the worlds would collide regardless.

Everyone had looked very shocked and concerned at this news, until Yoruichi, who had returned only moments before, rolled her eyes.

"But of course Kisuke and the _dear_ Captain have already found a way to fix that little problem."

Even in such stressful and unpleasant circumstances, it seemed Mayuri was still willing to annoy people without cause.

* * *

Yuzu was waiting in the hallway when they got home, and Ichigo was struck with guilt at how tired and pale she looked. It had never really occurred to him the burden that this must have been on her, having to wait behind whilst her father and brother set off to battle some mysterious war. Then Karin had left too, apparently because she had felt their combined rietsu start to dwindle and was too worried to remain. But poor Yuzu had to, not knowing whether any of her family would return to her at all.

Ichigo hugged her back when she threw her arms around him, and hoped she would never have to feel that worry again.

"Are you both okay? I've got food waiting if you're hungry. Is there any news about Dad?"

There was a clatter from above as someone ran down the hallway, and Ichigo stilled, wondering who was in their house. He pushed Yuzu behind him, only to be confronted with himself standing at the top of the stairs.

"Hey, Ichigo! You're not dead!"

He relaxed.

"Hey, Kon."

There was no news to give his sister, and Ichigo forced some of her food down even though he was not hungry, because he knew that it would make her feel better. Even though Yuzu's cooking was excellent, and always well made, today he could taste very little.

The worry was starting to gnaw at him a little more now: he had expected Grimmjow to find him by now. They had agreed that they would reconvene in Karakura as soon as was possible, and yet, still, there was no Grimmjow.

However, he was more worried for his father: he knew Grimmjow's strength and resolve, but what he had no real experience of was his father's skills in battle, how well his reactions and abilities had survived years of fatherhood and neglect.

He shook his head, as if to rid himself of such thoughts.

Isshin was a goof, and an idiot, but he was _Ichigo's _father. Death would not take him so easily.

Such concerned were clearly not plaguing Kon: he was wolfing down seconds as Yuzu started to clear away the plates. It was unsurprising that Yuzu knew about Kon (after all, it seemed that everyone did these days), but something struck him.

"Yuzu, how can you see us?"

He and Karin were still in their spiritual forms, meaning that his sister, who had never been able to sense spiritual creatures, should not have been able to see them.

She smiled up at him from the dishwasher.

"Urahara-san gave me something, before you all left, just in case…" She tailed off, but she did not need to explain. The shopkeeper had left his sister a way to see spiritual creatures, in case none of them had survived, so she would not be blind to any enemies that came for her. She would not be able to defend herself, but she could have seen them coming, hidden. Ichigo felt an unexpected surge of affection for the old creep.

"It's a tablet, I have no idea how it works, but he told me I could remove it by slapping myself on the back."

He nodded, but before he could comment on this there was a noise outside. Karin threw herself out of her chair almost as quickly as Ichigo, but he pushed her back, in front of Yuzu. He unsheathed his zanpakuto as the front door opened.

"Yuzu, Karin?"

He relaxed as his father strode into the kitchen. Yuzu ran to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Her shoulders visibly relaxed as the last member of her family was delivered back to her safe and well. She pulled back, and gasped.

"Dad, you're bleeding!"

He shook his head.

"It's not my blood, sweetheart."

"Dad…"

He turned to his son.

"Ichigo-"

But he didn't need to say anything more. Ichigo's eyes widened at the tone of his father's voice, which could mean only one thing. Before any of his family could say anything, he was already out the door.

* * *

_You're not allowed to be dead you bastard_

_Why can't I go any faster?_

_You can't be dead_

_Come on, hurry up_

_You can't die on me, not now_

_I won't let you_

The day was drawing on, the shinigami relaxing as they bustled back and forwards through the worlds. The die had been cast, and today they had won, though not without cost to them.

But fear was gripping Ichigo, cold coiling in his chest, impossible to shift.

As soon as he had realised something had happened, he had moved on his own accord, without stopping to ask questions. How badly was he injured?

He would not ever consider that he was dead.

He could not be dead.

Ichigo reached the barrier in what could only be described as record time, the rooftops of Karakura blurring underneath him in his haste. He had forgotten his promise to return to safeguard the pillar: everything was lost to his mind now.

What happened to Grimmjow?

The sky was breathtakingly blue above him, deep and endless. The clouds from the day had blown away from the city, and the sun was slowly sinking towards the horizon.

Faint fingers of pink and orange were weaving their away across the late afternoon.

Shinigami were streaming back and forward through the barrier. Medics still carried the injured and unconscious: twelfth division shinigami came back and forth with various inexplicable pieces of technology, presumably to help with the work being done around the pillar.

All was hustle, bustle and tired but smiling faces, but Ichigo saw none of this as he raced past.

No one saw him: he simply moved too quickly.

On the other side the evening was just as beautiful, the weather clement. Hundreds of shinigami were bustling back and forth, all the different divisions mixed together, order having gone out of the window as soon as victory had been assured.

He could see the medics coming in and out of the barrier opposite: there seemed to be as many injured in Hueco Mundo as there had been unconscious in Karakura.

His heart skipped a beat as two medics carried in a figure on a stretcher, covered in a shroud.

He grabbed the closest medic, only to be confronted with Hanatarou's terrified and surprised face. He hadn't noticed that his friend had been standing right next to him, even though he had actually be tugging at Ichigo's sleeve for over a minute trying to get his attention without any success.

He blinked up at Ichigo, whose eyes were wild.

"K- K- Kurosaki!"

"Where's Grimmjow?"

Hanatarou's eyes were wide and fearful. There was a certain madness about him that Hanatarou had never seen before: normally Ichigo's gaze, when he was not battling, was calm and direct, level and sound. But there was a darkness in there now, a new and terrifying shadow, as if something deep inside him had become unhinged.

"We found him on the battlefield-"

Ichigo froze.

He had to be _found. _He had not walked off the field himself, hadn't found medics himself. That meant he must have been in trouble, and Grimmjow was not the sort to get knocked unconscious by a rogue elbow to the head. If he had been knocked down, it would be a bad.

An image of Grimmjow, face down in red-soaked sand, flashed before his mind, and he shook his head, trying desperately to forget that image.

Hanatarou made an audible squeak as Ichigo's fists tightened around the collar of his uniform.

His voice was low, and it did not sound like him at all.

"Where is he?"

Ichigo did not notice the attention that this conversation was gathering. His bright hair normally got him attention, and when he was around shinigami they always paid attention to him after the many times he had fought on their behalf. He was as close to a celebrity as the Gotei had, and his baffling behaviour was attracting even more attention than normal. Many were stopping in their duties to watch this bizarre interaction.

Hanatarou's face creased in discomfort, and pointed towards the medical tents. "Bay three, I think he's in bay three!"

Ichigo dropped him, and ran.

He was pushing shinigami to either side of him to make his way through the crowd, looking for the sign for the right bay. He caught sight of many people he knew on the way, but had no time to speak to any of them: medics were looking inside Jidanbo's ears, Mashiro was lying pale and still on a stretcher, Ikkaku was trying to force medics away from a freely bleeding cut on his forehead.

And there it was, a flash of blue.

He stilled, his heart in his throat. Grimmjow was lying perfectly still, all the colour bleached from his skin. Though he looked ill, his face was untouched. His eyes were closed, and as Ichigo moved closer he gritted his teeth at the sight of his chest. What had once been like cut marble was now charred and unrecognisable.

Burns obscured all that Ichigo knew so well, some bleeding freely still. Some parts were a mess of raw, red injury, other parts nearly black. What the hell happened to him?

He took another step towards him, and a medic, catching sight of him out of the corner of his eye, shifted.

Ichigo looked down at Grimmjow's face, searching for any sign of life.

The dull roar of the bustling shinigami muted to nothing around him.

"Grimmjow?"

He reached out, and touched the curve of his upper lip.

At that moment in time, there was nothing else in the world.

There was a flicker behind Grimmjow's eyes; slowly, they opened.

The first thing he saw was Ichigo's eyes staring back at him. He tried to move, winced, and then grinned. It was a weak smile, for him, but it thawed the chill that had settled in Ichigo's chest.

"Hey, idiot."

There was a long pause as they stared at each other.

"Don't do that again, dickhead."

And right then and there, in front of every staring member of the Gotei 13, Ichigo fisted his hands into Grimmjow's hair and kissed him, for the first time in what felt like years.

* * *

Ichigo spent the rest of the day at Grimmjow's side, watching as the medics continued to work at the horrific burns on his chest. Ichigo filled him in on what had happened in Karakura, how the cage had been settled down and how Karin had saved them. In turn, Grimmjow told Ichigo about the fight in Hueco Mundo, the trap that had been sprung, and how Halibel had sacrificed herself to save them all.

Grimmjow was a little hazy on what had happened to him, but others had been able to fill in the gaps in his memory. It seemed that the typhoon that was set free when Halibel released her bankai had not been able to fully contain the power of the imploding weapon. The shield had broken, sending a concentrated beam outwards. It had struck Grimmjow square in the chest, as he had been the one closes to Halibel when it had happened, eating into his flesh.

Luckily, the power of the weapon had nearly been used up, and it had not been able to spread outward. Otherwise, Halibel's sacrifice would have been in vain.

It seemed deeply unfair that Halibel had died after only just being released from imprisonment from both the shinigami and the hollow army. That she had given her life up in such a collected manner, with no heroics or dramatic speeches, made it all the more noble.

Her body had been placed alongside the shinigami's dead, withered and burnt, but not forgotten.

Mayuri and Kisuke continued work on the pillar long past sunset. They first re-stabilized it, and then started work on separating the worlds once more. The pillars were originally supposed to have faded as the worlds pulled apart, but it made no sense to leave the pillar standing, when members of the enemy could have escaped. Now they knew it was there, and it was in such a fragile state, any hollow could come and attack it as soon as they turned a blind eye.

The task was completed with a mild earthquake as the night settled in, rocking the world as it settled into place, normality (or as close to it as they could ever get), restored. The medics bustled around them, but none disturbed them. Though various friends of Ichigo caught sight of him, all found themselves stopping as they approached. There was something quiet, and private, about the two of them, that made onlookers not want to intrude. They would speak to them later, they reasoned, and went about their business.

The Captain Commander gave a speech, but they did not go to listen to it. Rousing cheers made their way to them on the breeze, but they ignored them, talking quietly.

If issue was being taken with Ichigo's rather public explanation of their relationship, no one was vocalising it. No doubt the gossip had spread like wildfire, but perhaps many had already guessed at the ambiguous nature of their relationship, and were less than surprised.

Of course, it was also not impossible to imagine that a few of them were just too afraid to get their arses kicked to say anything about it.

Soon the burns on Grimmjow's chest began to fade under the watchful gaze of the medics, and the shinigami began to settle down in their camps for the night. Sentries were posted, and Captains gave their orders, but Ichigo and Grimmjow ignored it all, staring up into the clear night sky.

Around the two, a myriad of conversations were taking place as they settled down for the evening. Placed on first sentry duty, the eleventh division were patrolling the perimeter. Yumichika was walking side by side with Ikkaku, still looking as elegant as he had all day.

"Did you expect that Ichigo and the Espada had _that _sort of relationship?" His feathers waggled as he raised his eyebrows.

Ikkaku rolled his eyes.

"I don't give a shit."

Yumichika fluttered.

"But it's so _interesting!_"

They continued onwards, past a pair of shinigami awkwardly facing each other. It was the first time in over one hundred years that Shunsui had stood face to face with his former Lieutenant, and it was strange.

"How have you been?"

She just stared at him, blankly. He was trying hard not to show his smile, knowing that she would only think he was laughing at her, as she always used to.

"I have missed you."

She softened a little then, and almost smiled.

"Don't ask me to come back, Shunsui."

He grinned. "I wouldn't dare."

She turned away from him, and he called after her as she disappeared into the shadows.

"Freedom suits you, my dear."

Lisa was not the only Vizard spending time with shinigami they had not had a proper conversation with in decades. Shinji was walking slowly besides the Captain Commander. At the moment they were simply exchanging careful pleasantries, tip toeing around each other, but Shinji knew that at some point he would have to bring up the elephant in the room.

"What happens now?"

The Captain Commander's eyes never flickered.

"I have given you my word that you are no longer enemies to us."

"But can you speak for Central 46?"

The Captain Commander did not answer, because they both already knew what his response would be.

Lisa had walked away from Shunsui intending to return to her tent, but she found that Nanao was standing in her way. The woman was very different to how Lisa remembered her, all grown up with her face pulled into a frown. She had often wondered what the young girl she had once known was doing, what she was like, who she was with, but now they were face to face it was difficult to know how to start a conversation.

Nanao nodded at her.

"It is strange to see you here again."

Lisa bit her lip. She wanted to apologise, but she wasn't sure what she was apologising for. Instead, she just shrugged.

"Would you like a drink?"

Nanao hesitated, and for a moment Lisa thought she would refuse. But then the corner of her mouth twitched, and she nodded.

Standing outside of the main circle of tents and firelight were several other people. Father and son stood side by side, neither looking at each other. Uryuu did not know what to do: he felt he could not leave his father here among the shinigami, but neither did Ryuuken make any movement to leave.

Uryuu cleared his throat, and his father started.

"I-" Ryuuken seemed to hesitate, then fell silent again.

Uryuu shook his head. His relationship with his father was complicated, and though he would never feel close to the man, right at this moment he appreciated him more than he ever had done.

He caught his father's eye, and smiled a small, closed smile.

"Shall we go home?"

His father nodded, curtly, and they turned to leave.

"Uryuu?"

"Yes?"

"I am proud of you."

Hisagi watched them leave out of the corner of his eye. He could not stop to rest, and was surprised when he saw the broad figure of Kensei approach him. The former Captain nodded at him, and came to stand beside him.

"How are you?"

His voice was curt, but Hisagi had been given the impression that he was not a man to waste words on idle conversation without a reason. He considered for a moment giving a generic answer, but for some reason decided against it.

"Dissatisfied."

Kensei's eyebrows twitched.

"Why?"

"I do not feel that I contributed to this victory."

"You were a part of the reinforcement wave, were you not?"

Hisagi nodded, frowning.

"Barely reinforcement, we were token numbers at best."

Kensei felt a strange tug in his chest. Despite everything, there was still so much calling to him here, so much dragging back to a place that he realised he still thought of as home.

"I you had had a Captain, would you have been able to have more of a role in this battle?"

Hisagi nodded, watching him out of the corner of his eye. Kensei cleared his throat.

"Perhaps, if such a thing could be permitted, I might apply for the position."

They turned to face each other, and Hisagi searched the man's eyes. They had both aged, he thought, but his eyes were the same: just as they had been when he was a child, and he had first seen the the looming figure of the man standing over him.

He nodded, slowly. "I would be honoured."

The night was closing in, and most of the shinigami were drifting off to sleep. Only a few people were left awake, their campfires glowing like stars on the dark valley floor. Ukitake watched several of them flicker out nearby as he leant, just a little, against Shunsui.

"Are you feeling alright?"

Ukitake nodded, glad of the blanket around his shoulders, keeping the chill of the night away.

"You did well, Shunsui. I am proud of you."

Their hands intertwined, as familiar to each other's touch as they were to their own faces in the mirror.

Kenpachi walked close by them, not commenting on their closeness. He moved as silently as the grave, for he could pass like a shadow through the night when he chose to. For once he was not followed by members of his division, and his Lieutenant was curled up asleep in a tent.

He approached the lines of honourable dead, slowly lifting one figure. He carried the body apart from the rest, to bier he had put together from the rubble from the valley, elevating it above the rest.

From underneath the shroud, a blackened hand fell.

Almost tenderly, Kenpachi lifted it, and slid it back underneath.

He had thought his action had been unobserved, which he would have preferred, but one person had seen it, and he smiled behind his beard. People sometimes questioned why the Captain Commander tolerated the rogue Eleventh Captain, but it was moments like this that left him without any doubt in his mind.

"Captain Commander?"

He turned away from this sight and nodded at the Captain who had approached him, and though no one would have been able to tell, he was displeased. Mayuri would only be approaching him at this time for one reason.

"I would like to discuss what we are to do now that we have so many enemies gathered together."

The Captain Commander quirked an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

Mayuri smiled.

"I feel now would be an ideal moment to, perhaps, collect some _specimens, _and rid ourselves of a few problems in the meantime."

The Captain Commander stared at him, and sighed.

"Captain Kurotsuchi, you are a strong and capable leader, and vastly intelligent, but you still lack so much."

The Captain frowned, staring at his Commander as the old man shook his head.

"We will not be doing that, Mayuri. You may take your leave."

* * *

"Can you walk?"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes.

"Of course I can, idiot."

He pulled himself to his feet, wincing as he did so. The shinigami medics could only heal so deep, but he wasn't willing to admit to any pain. Of course, Ichigo noticed, but refrained from commenting, knowing full well that acknowledging such a thing would not be appreciated.

They wandered out of the camp together, arms pressed against each other. Grimmjow's breath hitched every now again in pain, but they both ignored it, silently deciding not to let it ruin the moment.

The stars were bright above them: the moon was a thin slither, barely casting any light.

The occasional campfire blinked in and out of view as they passed through the camp, like fireflies flickering in the grass.

Ichigo could hear his own heartbeat; Grimmjow could taste him on the air.

They cleared the camp, leaving the comforting light behind them, and walked until they could no longer see it at all. The starlight was enough to guide them through the rubble and the undergrowth, hand in hand. It all felt strangely still.

It felt as if they had not spent more than a moment together for years, and now there was no one but them, together in the dark.

They did not need to speak. Ichigo turned to Grimmjow, who took a step towards him, and they pressed the length of their bodies against each other. Suddenly Ichigo could hear another heartbeat: he rubbed his nose against the smooth length of Grimmjow's unadorned jaw.

"What now?"

Ichigo frowned. "What do you mean? We go home."

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow. "Will they let us?"

Ichigo paused. He had never even considered what would happen next. "The old man said all was forgiven."

Grimmjow shrugged. "For the Vizards, maybe."

"What's the difference?"

Grimmjow rested the side of his face against Ichigo's temple, and inhaled deeply.

"I was never a shinigami."

He felt, rather than saw, Ichigo shrug against him.

"Then we just keep fighting till they understand that we've saved their asses, okay?"

Grimmjow smirked. "Sounds like a plan."

Ichigo wondered if the simple scent of Grimmjow's skin was enough to send him mad. Grimmjow was breathing against his ear now, and it felt as if every hair on the back of his neck was standing on end.

He wanted to tell Grimmjow that he had missed him, that these days and nights apart had been painful to him, but he did not know how to convey such feelings. He pressed himself closer to the former-Espada instead, his hands finding their way to Grimmjow's hair.

He wondered if a single moment of happiness could kill him.

There was a throb of pain in Grimmjow's chest, and he couldn't work out if it was from his injury or because he wasn't kissing Ichigo yet.

He rested his forehead against Ichigo's, and closed his eyes. He felt tired, so very tired. All he wanted was to be in Ichigo's bedroom in Karakura, wrapped up in each other's arms, sleeping in the impossible warmth. He wanted the peace he felt when they were together. How time had changed him.

He made up for not being there by pulling away, grabbing Ichigo by the chin, and pressing their mouths together.

They melted against each other, and for a moment Grimmjow wished that he could simply melt into the body he was pressing against, as close as they could possibly be.

Kissing him felt like coming home.


	20. Nineteen

**I have not had the chance to proof read this at all, and I am still searching for someone who is willing to put up with my amazing powers of procrastination and proof read for me! Apologies are due for the many, many errors that I am sure there are. Hopefuly it will not ruin the reading. **

**How is everyone in the festive run up? Stressed?**

**Chapter Nineteen**

_Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path, and leave a trail_ - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Morning dawned to find Ichigo and Grimmjow still outside of camp. They had propped themselves up against a grassy knoll, wrapping themselves around one another, finding warmth in the press of each other's limbs.

Ichigo woke, but did not move. The morning light still had that strange, grey quality, and the cold earth below them had sunk into his bones, leaving him stiff and aching. He had not noticed the chill that had settled down around them throughout the night, but now he had to fight to stop himself from shivering. Grimmjow was still draped over and around him, and the parts of their skin which were touching were almost hot, contrasting strangely with the bitter air.

He felt displaced for a moment, as if the earth were about to swallow them both down into its dark, silent depths, but then Grimmjow stirred against him, and the moment passed.

"Hey, wake up."

He blew strands of Grimmjow's face away from his hair, and wondered if anyone had missed them yet.

The crevasses from the earthquakes looked like great dark scars rending the valley. The last few visible stars burnt above them, slowly vanishing into the pink-grey of dawn.

He could feel Grimmjow's hands flexing against his side, where at some point in the night they had found their way beneath his robes. He inhaled deeply, burying his nose in Grimmjow's hair, taking in the musty mixture of sweat and dried blood. Underneath that was the heat of skin, and the unmistakable smell of _Grimmjow._

What would this day bring?

He shoved him a little harder.

"Oi, come on."

Grimmjow shifted a little underneath him.

He wondered if he could close his eyes and fall asleep again, but he knew that the cold that had worked its way deep into him would not let him. He was sure that many of the shinigami would be awake already, anyway, and he would much rather they make their way back to camp then have shinigami find him in this position. He nudged Grimmjow gently, hoping he would wake, but Grimmjow just gripped him harder, nuzzling into his neck.

"Grimmjow, wake up."

The former Espada dug his nails into Ichigo's back, growling softly.

"We've gotta get back and see what's happening."

He nudged him again, harder this time, and Grimmjow looked back up at him, bleary eyed.

"What?"

"Get up."

Grimmjow rolled off him, swearing.

"How's your chest?"

The former Espada sat up, and stretched. There was a dull ache around his pectorals, and now it was day he could see the meshwork of fine, pink scars that laced his chest. Most of them looked as if they would fade in a few months, though there were a few that still looked angry, and might be permanent. All in all, it did not feel too bad: the shinigami were useful for some things after all, it seemed, although it kind of annoyed him to admit that.

The knots in his spine clicked audibly, and he winced. Ichigo washed a black cloud flash across his face.

Grimmjow gritted his teeth as he remembered Halibel: it could have been much, much worse.

Ichigo stood, stretching out his own stiff limbs, and offered a hand to help Grimmjow up, which was ignored, just as he expected. If fact, he would have been slightly surprised if his hand had been taken. He was given a quick kiss when Grimmjow was on his feet though, which more than made up for it.

"Come on."

They approached the camp slowly, warily, side by side.

The sun rose steadily in the sky, but the day did not seem to lighten. Rather, the morning hung on the air as if it were a low cloud, keeping everything dank and a little miserable feeling. Ichigo tried not to let it dampen his mood as well. Despite the ache from the cold nights sleep, waking up wrapped up around Grimmjow for the first time in what felt like forever had put him in the best of moods.

As they reached the camp they could see that most of the shinigami were still asleep, most fires from the night before burnt low to the ground, thin streams of smoke spiralling into the sky. At some point in the night the perimeter guard had been changed, and now it was the Third Division keeping watch. Kira Izuru nodded at them both as they passed him, but did not comment or question where they had been, for which Ichigo was very grateful.

It would be a little embarrassing to admit that they had snuck out and slept on the cold ground, just for a sense of privacy.

They paused, unsure where to go now that they had reached the camp. They had been assigned tents, but neither of them had any idea where they might be, or even where to start looking for them. Luckily, before they had to make any decisions, Shinji caught sight of them, and waved them over.

"I've been looking for you two."

Ichigo shrugged, and Grimmjow rolled his eyes.

"Couldn't have been looking very hard."

Shinji bared his teeth in the vague approximation of a smile.

"Very funny. Hurry up."

"Where are we going?"

"Captain's meeting."

* * *

Ichigo meant to ask why they were being included in a Captain's meeting, but before he could they had arrived, and he realised that they were not the only additions to the assembly. All the Captains and Lieutenants were there (except for the Lieutenant of the Third, who was on guard), as well as the entire collected Vizard, looking fresh and bright in the morning sunshine. He was glad to see that Hachi was back on his feet, not looking worse for wear, though his hands were still bandaged.

Tessai was stood near to the Vizard, just behind Kisuke and Yoruichi, who were both slouching so indolently that it could only have been intentional.

And then, standing in front of him, was his father, who smiled at him in that way that Ichigo knew so well. For a moment they could have been back at home, and Ichigo felt his body tense waiting for his father's usual enthusiastic greeting, only to be almost surprised when none came.

His father was much more serious on this side of death, and for the first time Ichigo realised that he preferred his own dad, his normal dad, who managed to combine attacks and glomping, who embarrassed him and pissed him off. Because despite all that, the annoying man was _his. _

He kind of couldn't wait to go home, for things to get as close to normal as they ever could with him.

The Captain Commander cleared his throat, and beside him Grimmjow folded his arms, his face already turning into a mask of indifference and irritation.

"Now we are all here, and the battles we have faced have been won, we must come to face our next challenge."

He stared out across the strange assembly of people, his eyes serious.

"We must still face the fact that we have committed treason against our central judiciary body, and that something must be done to rectify this situation. I will now open the floor to discussion of how best to proceed."

Jyuushiro Ukitake was the first to step forward, his hands together at his chest, hidden by the long sweep of his sleeves.

"Perhaps we should begin by sending a messenger to them, to discuss what they would like us to do."

Toushiro nodded.

"It would be best to show them that we want nothing more than peace as quickly as possible."

There were murmurs of agreement from around the group, but a sharp voice caused them all to turn their heads suddenly. Ichigo realised with a sense of impending doom that that voice belonged to him.

"Why?"

Thirty-odd faces turned to look at him incredulously.

He really hadn't meant to say that out loud.

Toushiro raised an eyebrow at him, and he cleared his throat.

"I mean… why do you need to make peace with them? Why do you need them at all?"

Jyuushiro glanced at Shunsui, his expression unreadable.

"I don't really get what they do that you guys don't, anyway." He cleared his throat again, trailing off, and after a long and uncomfortable silence, Soifon nodded.

"He's got a point. It is Gotei divisions that run the secure facilities, that perform the executions, that capture criminals. Their justice is only dispensed when we have not chosen to kill the criminal on the battlefield anyway."

Byakuya closed his eyes, steepling his fingers.

"As long as the Gotei has existed, there has been a secondary judicial system to govern _us._"

Soifon's scowl was dark by this point.

"So? Doesn't normally work, does it? It says something about how good a body they are when they can all be killed off by Aizen and none of us even noticed."

Kenpachi snorted.

"Chick's got a point."

Byakuya glared at him, but it was lacking venom. Behind him, Renji shuffled uncomfortably.

"But is it right to make the protection of all the worlds entirely our task?" Shunsui asked, shadow hiding his eyes. "Perhaps we are giving ourselves too much responsibility."

"The Captain Commander served in their place before the new Central 46 was gathered together," chipped in Komamura. "His wisdom in all things is enough to ensure him my vote in continuing to do so."

Ichigo wasn't sure, but he thought that he saw Mayuri roll his startling eyes.

Kisuke snickered behind his fan.

"Seriously, every other decision in this place is made just by the Gotei. We should just cut out the middle man: half the time the criminals don't even make it to Central, they die in battle anyway."

The Captain Commander nodded, slowly.

* * *

Across the Soul Society, ensconced in their great, dark building, Central 46 glared at each other across the dark chasm of their meeting place. Very little had been resolved: much had been argued about, but their pride and their arrogance was still firmly intact. None of them had even begun to entertain the idea that the Gotei Divisions would _not _return to them.

"We shall hear from them soon."

"No doubt they will soon send their apologies."

"They have fought numerous battles, they will wish to return to their barracks and their medical supplies. Their little _camping trip _will be beginning to wear on them."

"Indeed. We will be lenient when they return."

Nods from around the room, though a few unhappy faces as well. There were some that would have been glad to see the upstarts in the Gotei punished severely for their arrogance. The idea of them on their knees, begging for forgiveness… well, it would just have to wait. As pleasing as that idea might have been, the Central 46 were somewhat lacking military backing compared to the Gotei. In a face to face fight, their self-made fort would crumble.

Luckily, the Captain Commander's propensity for structure and tradition would ensure that their forces would return to them.

They sat back, hands folded across their stomachs or behind their heads.

"Still, some sort of punishment will be necessary."

More enthusiastic nods this time, a few cheerful 'here, here's!' echoing around the room.

"They have to understand that their actions have consequences."

"Quite, quite."

A scuffle from outside the room, muttering that they could only just hear through the great mahogany doors. Their conversation paused, and forty six heads turned in sync to stare at the entrance way before a timid knock broke the silence.

"Enter!"

A head poked through the door: the man looked pale, and deeply uncomfortable.

"Ah, many apologies on interrupting you when you are in session-"

"Yes, yes, get on with it won't you?"

He blushed, and fidgeted.

"Well, ah, the Gotei 13 have arrived."

"Excellent! Send the Captain Commander through at once, and make it clear that no one else is to come."

More uncomfortable shuffling.

"Um, you see, that won't actually be possible."

"And why not?"

The door swung open, revealing the unfortunate young man, who was now rather pale. It also revealed the several dozen zanpakuto pointing at his back, and the rather happy grins of Captains Kyouraku and Kenpachi.

Several of the braver men and woman surged to their feet in outrage, which only really made Kenpachi grin wider.

Shunsui bowed low, tipping his hat.

"Ah, many apologies, ladies and gentlemen."

"What is the meaning of this?!"

Shunsui turned to Kenpachi, and shook his head regretfully.

"Ah, they do not know."

Kenpachi grunted, and Shunsui turned back to Central 46.

"Well, we're here to fire you."

* * *

Ichigo watched with a rather self-satisfied expression as the shinigami brought out the members of Central 46, most of whom were arguing loudly with their captors at the top of their voices, protesting the new turn of events.

He couldn't blame them for being surprised: to be honest, he really hadn't expected them to _actually _overturn Central 46. He hadn't even meant to say it out loud, and he had thought that the Captain Commander was far too stuck in his ways to actually go ahead with this. But, we are all proved wrong, and Ichigo wasn't upset to have been wrong this time.

He tried to catch Grimmjow's eye from across the courtyard, but he had been high-jacked by Yachiru, who was rather enamoured by his blue hair. He hadn't strayed too far from Ichigo all day, though the later had decided not to comment on it. Whether it was for fear that someone would arrest either one of them again, or because he had just missed them, Ichigo didn't know, but he quite liked it.

Shinji took it upon himself to save Grimmjow, though got a headful of the Eleventh Division's Lieutenant instead. The former-Espada took the moment of freedom to slip away, hesitating for a moment when he couldn't spot Ichigo in the busy courtyard, too many shinigami swarming back and forth.

A heavy hand clapped him around the shoulder, and he tensed up at the unknown touch.

"How are you doing?"

He recognised the voice, so felt no need to look over his shoulder. He shrugged the hand off his shoulder, scowling. Behind his back, Isshin grinned. Despite himself, he had become quite fond of the bad tempered arrancar that had become a part of his family (whether Grimmjow wanted to or not). Underneath his arrogance and irritable nature, there was something fundamentally likeable about him.

"Wanting to get home, huh?"

He stepped up, so they were standing side by side. Grimmjow watched him warily out of the corner of his eye.

"Not thought that far ahead yet."

Isshin raised an eyebrow.

"And why is that?"

Grimmjow grunted. Truth was, he still had not seen any evidence that they would actually let him go without a fight, and he was not taking anything for granted right now.

Over the sea of people, he caught sight of Ichigo's hair, and it was only the months of Ichigo's influence that he gave a curt nod to Isshin before he slipped away through the crowds. He shoved his shoulder against Ichigo's as they drew level, and Ichigo nudged gently back, their now usual method of greeting.

"Hey, Grimmjow?"

"What?"

"Can we go home soon?"

Grimmjow grinned, quickly turning it into a scowl as the Captain Commander passed them by.

* * *

Soon enough Central 46 were packed off and put under home arrest until a decision could be made on quite what was to be done with. Several shinigami, including Renji, tried to draw Ichigo into a conversation on what should be done with them, but he didn't want anything to be done with it, and just shrugged every time someone asked. It was done with, as far as he was concerned, and now nothing more was to be said on the matter.

The sun was starting to set by the time everything was finally settled, and the Divisions began to return to their barracks. Yoruichi told them that she had sorted out a place for them all to say, but Ichigo nearly broke out in laughter when he realised what that place was.

"Welcome," said Byakuya Kuchiki through gritted teeth, "To my home."

Behind him Renji was trying- and failing- to hide his grin at how unhappy his Captain sounded at the prospect of house guests. And not just a few- Yoruichi had someone managed to wrangle beds for all of the visitors from the Karakura.

Shinji ruffled his hair as they shoved past.

"Ah, thanks, Bya-kun."

Rukia wanted to show sisterly solidarity for her brother, she really did, but the sight of Byakuya's red face was too much even for her, and she had to bury her face in Renji's robes to stop herself laughing.

The next day dawned bright and clear, the grey of the day before all but forgotten. They were summoned not long after dawn by butterfly to another meeting. They were a little bleary eyed, having more than taken advantage of Kuchiki hospitality the night before, and Grimmjow was starting to get sick of company. He wanted nothing more than a few days just with Ichigo, without having to listen to other people.

He was even more annoyed when they arrived at the meeting, only to be informed that they had to wait outside, along with the Lieutenants. Renji kicked the stone step irritably.

"You would've thought that they'd let us in after all this shit."

Hisagi nodded.

"Seems a bit unfair, three Divisions aren't represented leaving us out here. We still deserve a say in what's going on, even if we don't have Captains."

Kira nodded, and flipped his long fringe out of his eyes. Renji glanced at it irritably.

"Just get it cut, Kira."

He got rolled eyes in response.

Yachiru was chewing ominously on a stick of toffee, unhappy that she had been forced to wait outside. Everyone else was studiously not mentioning the fact that Grimmjow had taken Ichigo's hand, and was currently glaring at everyone who happened to look in their direction. Matsumoto thought it was adorable, but didn't quite have the nerve to say so.

Soon enough though, they let them all in, and Ichigo and Grimmjow slipped off to the side, where their fellow Karakura residents were standing. The rest of the Lieutenants went to stand in their correct positions, and the Captain Commander cleared his throat.

"Welcome, all. I would like to announce the instatement of new individuals to the Gotei ranks. As Captain of the Third Division, Rojuro Otoribashi."

Kira made no obvious expression as the Vizard stepped forward and took up his position just in front of him, but that was fairly normal. Whatever he was thinking was usually well hidden.

"As Captain of the Fifth Division, Shinji Hirako." Momo visibly recoiled, and then tried her hardest to smile as Shinji also took his place.

"Finally, as Captain of the Ninth Division, Kensei Muguruma." Hisagi and Kensei stared hard at each other as Kensei approached, and when they finally looked away Ichigo was not the only one who noticed the slight red flush on Hisagi's cheeks.

The congratulations and other news droned on, and Grimmjow soon stopped listening. None of this was of any interest to him. All he wanted to do was go home, knock Ichigo down onto his bed, and then sleep for a week, but apparently that was too much to ask for right now. Apparently he had to stand here, and listen to all of this crap.

"And, finally, we come to the matter of the arrancar, and former-Espada, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez."

That one got his attention.

"The Captains unanimously agreed yesterday that the Vizard and other former shinigami present are cleared of all crimes, and as their loyalty to the Gotei 13 has been proved, are free to continue their lives as they see fit, with no interference from us."

Ichigo raised his eyebrows and moved forward imperceptibly, so that he was ever just so slightly in front of Grimmjow.

"I'm not really sure what more we can do to prove to you that we're on your side."

The Captain Commander nodded.

"Indeed. And in normal circumstances that would not matter, and he would still be put to trial and probably imprisoned for his former loyalties regardless. But these are not normal times, and the Captains unanimously voted for a second option."

Ichigo was glaring, and barely felt his father's hand on his shoulder.

"A sealing."

Grimmjow folded his hands.

"There is no chance in hell that you are taking my powers from me."

It was, to both of their surprise, Urahara that stepped forward.

"It would not be a permanent sealing."

Ichigo rounded on him. "This was your fucking idea?"

The shop-keeper put his hands up, signalling for peace.

"It is my technique. The bulk- but not all- of Grimmjow's spiritual power would be restricted. It can be released, and will return to its full potential, when it is deemed necessary. A specific individual will be in charge of that choice."

Ichigo was about to protest further, but Grimmjow cut him off.

"Ichigo."

They all stared at him, a little surprised at the lack of argument from him.

"Ichigo gets to decide."

The Captain Commander shook his head.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, though an ally of ours, is not a full shinigami, and he is not… impartial on the subject."

Ichigo glanced across at Grimmjow, wondering if they were going to have to fight their way out of this one.

"Which is why I will do it."

They turned, almost in sync, to Isshin. He wasn't looking at either of them, but staring at the Captain Commander, though the decision had been made earlier. He would not let anyone else be in charge of the safety of the man his son loved.

"If it is found that his seal has been released without good cause, you will be charged and imprisoned."

Isshin nodded.

The Captain Commander sighed. He'd had just about all he could handle with the bloody Kurosaki family.

"Very well. Meeting closed."

* * *

The seals were performed only hours later, the shinigami unwilling to let Grimmjow leave for the human world without guarantee that it had been done. Ichigo was less than happy about this: it seemed that no matter what they did, there were still some prejudices that the shinigami were unwilling to let go of. It was performed by both Mayuri and Urahara, though Renji had insisted on escorting them in and out of the labs, apparently concerned that Mayuri might "pull some crazy shit" to keep them both their for experimentation purposes. Though he did stare a little hungrily at them, he managed to keep his hands to himself.

It left Grimmjow with a mark on his collarbone in a strange, intricate pattern, but it did not unduly bother him. His body was enough of a canvas of scars and markings as it was to let one more concern him.

Then, after what felt like hours of tedious goodbyes, most of which he kept out of the way of, it was time to leave.

Just before they stepped though the portal, Renji sidled up to him, and stuck out his hand.

Grimmjow stared at it, then back at him.

Renji stared right back.

After a few moments of uninterrupted staring, Grimmjow smirked, and shook his extended hand.

"Good luck."

Grimmjow nodded, and stepped though the portal.

The air on the other side tasted sweeter than he had ever imagined.

Finally, they were home.

Beside him, always willing to break a good moment, Urahara elbowed him in the side, grinning like a child.

"The hell do you want?"

Urahara pouted as the portal closed up behind them, the rent in the sky healing itself leaving nothing but a momentary wavering in the air.

"That's the thanks I get?"

Ichigo was wary.

"The thanks for what?"

He flipped his fan in front of his eyes.

"Oh, you don't think I've taught the Gotei all my tricks, do you? You really think that I invent anything without a way to get out of it? What if I were caught in it one of these days?"

Isshin rolled his eyes.

"You're impossible."

"You can undo the binding?"

"Can the sun spin the sky?"

* * *

There was just one more place that Grimmjow had to go before his day was finished.

White sand below him, black sky above him, no one surrounding him for an infinite distance.

All was dead here now, he thought.

There was no explanation for why he knew that, no rhyme or reason. But there was also no one that he had to explain it to, and he could feel it deep in his bones: there was nothing living here anymore, nothing even close.

Everything was dead.

The walls were little more than rubble now, and he had to wonder at how quickly such a huge structure had fallen, how soon the center of so many plans had collapsed in on itself. It had been a ship after the loss of its captain, abused by the shores and the tides, falling apart moment by moment as it watched the world change around it, its crew alter and shift, waiting for leaders to return to it.

Even now there was _something _about this rubble.

It put the hairs on the back of his neck on end.

It felt as if it were waiting, and that it would continue to wait, for years or millennia, for a captain to return to it. It thrummed with unspoken desires, with a _promise_ that even Grimmjow could feel, as if it vibrated through his blood.

Time would not ruin these walls: there was no wind to wear down the white rock. Things here were changeless, permanent.

And he knew, with the same certainty that he felt the tension in the stones, that though all things living or dead would stay away from these places for centuries, that in the end someone would come along, someone who didn't feel the blood in the sand and the death in the air, and start up again. They would use this place again.

The hollows had never needed a king. Every one that had tried was a fool.

And if there was no king, there should be no palace.

All rock can be returned to sand with enough effort.

Grimmjow held Pantera in his hand, and she purred in his mind.

Ready?

_Ready. _

And when all was just white sand again, Grimmjow sat down, cradling his zanpakuto in his hands, and smiled.

* * *

Ichigo stood up as he caught sight of Grimmjow coming back through the portal in Urahara's underground rooms. He had wanted to go with him, but had held back: there was something about Grimmjow's eyes that made him realise that this was something the Arrancar had to do for himself. He looked tired, but strangely lighter, as if he were holding his shoulders in a slightly different way.

The portal closed, and he walked towards the exit, past where Ichigo had been sitting and waiting for him. He bumped Ichigo's shoulder with his as he passed him, and with a smile Ichigo turned, and followed him.

They walked home through the sky, not the streets, not saying a word to each other.

It was a cool night, but not cold.

The moon was almost full, and bright in the sky.

Below them Karakura carried on with its night, unaware of all that had transpired at her doors. Children fell asleep as adults made love; crimes were committed and beautiful moments created; feelings were hurt and mended again. Candles were lit and blown out, cats cried their mournful songs to the sky above them.

The stars watched it all, and said nothing.

Grimmjow felt a strange sense of deja-vu as they slid Ichigo's window open, quietly so as not to wake anyone, and closed his eyes as he stood in the familiar room. It was almost as if nothing had changed: like they were still sneaking around, before anyone had found out about them, or him. He had not realised until now what a quiet, magic time that was, when only Ichigo had known that he was alive, and there had been no one else but the two of them.

He felt feather light kisses on his closed eyelids: he didn't open them until he felt warmth against his chest, arms wrapping around him, pinning him to the moment.

He could have told Ichigo: he didn't want to escape.

They kissed slowly, all emergency gone from their movements as they reached to touch every piece of skin with fingertips, nails, lips, slipping off the stained and dusty robes they had been wearing, little caring about the state they were in underneath. Ichigo kissed his way along every new scar on Grimmjow's abdomen, as the arrancar felt every knot and whorl in his spine, as if counting them. They followed the line of every bone and muscle, mapping their bodies to their memoires once more, leaving damp lines from eager mouths and not caring. The night felt suddenly endless even as the moon sank lower in the sky.

"Ichigo…"

And they were on the bed, moving together, gripping nails into skin deep enough to bruise and perhaps to bleed, though they would not notice until the morning. Every ache and pain was forgot in those moments, every worry and fear chased away with warmth, sensation, movement.

Their pace quickened as they drew closer, losing their breath as their movements became less fluid, more ragged, kisses becoming uncoordinated, teeth leaving reddening marks.

"Grimmjow…"

They collapsed against each other, still reaching for the press of the other's body, refusing to let the intimacy go. Their embrace almost crushed them, but neither of them thought to care: Grimmjow buried his face in Ichigo's neck, and wrapped his legs around Grimmjow's hips, pulling every part of them close together. A draught from the window caused a chill to run up his back, but he didn't even consider moving to find a cover. The warmth from each other was all they needed.

"Hey, Grimmjow?"

He felt the other shift slightly, only to nuzzle deeper into his neck.

"Nghmm?"

He ran his nose through the shock of blue hair, his lips just skimming the whorl of an ear.

"Welcome home."


End file.
