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Demon of Rukongia	By : OmniaVanitus Category: Bleach > General Views: 1457 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters thereof, but I do claim the creative liberties to this story and the original characters. No money is being made from this story.

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Twenty-Five Years Later

It was early morning when Kaminari stepped to the edge of the cliff overlooking the valley below. She stood tall over the ridge as the wind blew through her rich wavy brown hair, long since freed from the mud it had once been encrusted in. The yukata she wore left an arm bare, providing a glimpse of her strength and revealing the butterfly shaped H�monka left behind on her chest courtesy of Suì-F�ng.

Now faded and worn, the ever present pink kimono lay draped over her shoulders, concealing the small bundle fast asleep on her back. Black hair peeked out from under the collar as the boy slept with his head pillowed on her shoulder. His arms were pushed through the sleeves and his small hands fisted in the threadbare material. Feeling him stir, she craned her neck and watched as his crystalline blue eyes slowly fluttered open.

“Are we there yet,” Ryuko mumbled through a yawn.

“Almost,” she said pointing to a village out in the distance. “It’s just over there.”

On the horizon she could see their destination, a small town in the Western Rukongai where the barefooted denizens were already bustling to prepare for the upcoming festival. They’d been traveling for days and now that the little town was in sight she could practically taste the sweet rice wine that would be flowing freely by night fall.

They continued on and had reached the edge of the valley when Kaminari stopped suddenly, her hand falling to the hilt of the zanpakut� strapped horizontally on her lower back. In a flash her weapon was drawn, deflecting several throwing stars just as they were surrounded by a group of men. Black cloth kept their faces hidden and though they wore clothing similar to that of the stealth force, the crest on their uniform was not that of the Onmitsukid�.

Ryuko jumped from Kaminari’s back and took his stance behind her, readying himself to fight as the masked men surrounding them pulled out their swords. One of the men lunged at him, swinging his weapon wide as he did, but Ryuko dodged the blow and used the man’s momentum to flip him over, sending him crashing to the ground as another man approached with his blade already leveled. The boy grabbed his wrist before he could attack and sent a hard kick to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

Sparks flew as Kaminari blocked her opponent’s sword with hers and countered with a move of her own. A moment later and he was sent sprawling to the ground with a gaping wound in his chest where two more of his comrades soon met the same fate. She rounded on the last one, their swords clashing as they fought.

He was breathing hard, but Ryuko had finally managed to knockout the two men he’d been fighting. Standing triumphantly over them, he watched on as Kaminari continued battling their last attacker, memorizing the way her muscles shifted with each swing of her blade. His eyes widened suddenly then, but more out of shock than pain.

Blocking and attacking each other in turn, the masked man threw another shuriken towards her, but she flash stepped out of the way easily and reappeared behind him where she plunged her zanpakut� deep into his back. As the last man fell to the ground dead, Kaminari looked back towards Ryuko just in time to see him collapse with the small four-pointed blade she had just dodged sticking out of his chest.

“Kami-” he gasped out when she rushed over to him, but she shushed him firmly as her hand reached for the protruding object, feeling an oily substance coating the edges that made the skin on her fingers tingle and burn.

Poison.

She pressed a hand to his wound to stem the blood flow while the other dug into a pouch she kept hidden in her yukata and pulled out a small red gem. She urged him to eat it and when he did the bruises and cuts he’d received during the fight began to heal, but the poisoned gash in his chest remained unaffected. There was little she could do, but gather him up into her arms and flash step them to the only place where she knew he could get help.

She arrived at the West Gate in a matter of moments and quickly flashed an entry permit. By the time she finally reached the Fourth Division the boy’s breathing had become shallow and his pulse thready. Several healers buzzed around her, carting the small boy off to surgery as she told them what had happened, even giving them the star so they could analyze the poison coating its dangerous edges.

Left alone in a waiting room, Kaminari sat distraughtly with her head in her hands until she felt a familiar arm wrap around her. Looking up she saw the Eighth Division Captain and she returned his embrace, letting herself be comforted as they waited together.

Hot water beat down on her skin, washing away the traces of blood she was only vaguely aware of, some of which had belonged to Ryuko.

They had waited nearly three hours before Captain Unohana herself came to them with an update on the boy’s condition. “He’s stable,” she had said. “We were able to close his wound and negate the effects of the poison.” He would live, and with only a small scar as a reminder. Kaminari had never been so relieved.

A shy, wide-eyed looking healer led Shunsui and her through the maze of corridors to Ryuko’s room where they were keeping him overnight. He was small for his age and lying sedated there on the large hospital bed made him look even smaller, but she was grateful to only see the single IV drip connected to his arm. They had stayed for awhile before Ky�raku led her out of the Fourth, pausing only long enough for her to drape the worn kimono over the sleeping boy’s form.

Through the streets of Seireitei and into the Thirteenth Division, she was greeted with a warm smile and an offer of a hot shower which she readily accepted. It had been awhile since she’d seen either of them and Ryuko could never wait to be spoiled with the chocolate and toys J�shir� always seemed to have on hand for him.

When Kaminari emerged from the shower, she found the two captains drinking tea as they waited for her. Taking a seat next to them, she quietly took a sip from her own proffered cup.

“Has this happened before,” Shunsui finally asked, “you being attacked that is.”

“Bandits are common in the lower Rukongai.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he scolded.

Kaminari hesitated. “We’ve been attacked three times before at the shrine.”

“Do you know who they were, why they attacked you,” J�shir� asked.

“No,” she answered shaking her head, “but they wore this.” She pulled out a piece of fabric she had torn from one of their uniforms during the fight baring the unknown crest.

“I’m not familiar with this insignia,” he said thoughtfully, passing the material to the other captain. “Maybe we can find out some information for you,” he offered.

“Thank you,” Kaminari said gratefully.

They let their conversation drift after that as they continued talking until eventually Lieutenant Ise came to retrieve her captain and Kaminari decided to return to the Fourth Division. She accepted J�shir�’s offer to be escorted back, but as they were making their way through the Seireitei a baldheaded shinigami suddenly appeared before them, blocking their path.

“That’s as far you go, Demon of Rukongai!”
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Demon of Rukongia