Adult-FanFiction.org : Bleach

Resolution	By : KaiBlueOtaku Category: Bleach > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 12664 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Bleach and all related characters are property of Tite Kubo. I recieve no payment for my writing.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
////////

CHAPTER 4: “Settled”

////////

                Ulquiorra knocked firmly on the door with the “six” emblazoned on it. “Fuck, I’m coming, just a second,” a voice yelled from within.

                “It’s me,” Ulquiorra called. He waited a few minutes, and knocked again.

                “Ok, ok!” Grimmjow growled. Ulquiorra heard some scuffling, and a few moments later the door burst open. Loly pushed past, shoved roughly from the room by Grimmjow. She gave Ulquiorra a nasty sneer as she stumbled, pulling her clothes back on, making evident what Lord Aizen’s aide and the Seis Espada had been up to.

                “What do you want?” Grimmjow turned his back, storming into his room and throwing himself somewhat dramatically on his couch. Ulquiorra could see the partially remaining erection through Grimmjow’s hakama, but chose to make no comment, focused on the task at hand.

                “I need a favor.”

                Grimmjow’s ice blue eyes widened, and he stilled. Realizing that this was highly irregular, he dropped his usual cavalier attitude, sat up and leaned in. “I’m listening.”

                Ulquiorra paced anxiously. “Things are complicated right now. I am not myself, and I do not know how much time I have, so I will have to make the explanation brief.” He took a deep breath. “I need you to protect Orihime for me.”

                “What?” Grimmjow was sincerely confused. He could tell though that the Espada standing before him was in serious distress, which was completely unlike him. “I thought you just told me the other day, you were supposed to be protecting her from the likes of me. What the hell is going on, Ulquiorra?”

                “I need you to fight with Ichigo. To the death.”

                Grimmjow stared hard at the trembling, compact frame of the Cuatra, and smirked a little. “I was planning to do that anyway. Me and that asshole have a score to settle.” He absently ran his fingers over the wide scar emblazoned on his chest.

                “If I kill him first, you must get Orihime to bring him back.” Ulquiorra’s deadpan face was assurance to Grimmjow that he was not joking around. “You must fight him, and he must be engaged at full power if this plan is to work.”

                “You’ve gone off your rocker, man,” Grimmjow snickered. “What the hell are you talking about?”

                Ulquiorra sighed. “I do not have time for this. Here.” He reached up and gouged out his eyeball, crushing it and activating the Solita Vista again. He showed Grimmjow much of the same information which he had showed to Orihime earlier, leaving out again any actual visuals on Murcielago.

                When it ended, a wide grin overtook Grimmjow’s face. “Ahh man, you’re screwing her after all!”

                “I was not when you had asked previously,” Ulquiorra replied tersely, ignoring the coarseness of the language. “You see though how dangerous he is, and I could lose control at any moment. Will you help me?”

                Grimmjow was thoughtful for a moment. “You really love her, don’t you?”

                “Yes.”

                Running his fingers though his spiky blue hair, Grimmjow chuckled. “That is fucked up, man. You know that, right?”

                “You know that you wished you had someone you felt that way about.”

                The Sexta sighed, looking mournfully toward the door, where he had so roughly sent Loly packing earlier. “Yeah.”

                “So then you will help me?”

                Grimmjow nodded. “Yeah. How is this ‘plan’ of yours supposed to work, though?”

                “I need you to fight him. If he defeats you, it will make him stronger. Ichigo is the only one who I think can kill Murcielago, who is a threat to Orihime. He is an unusual opponent, and I think that once Murcielago faces off against him, he will mark him as his prey.”

                Grimmjow smirked. “I have dibs on the Shinigami; he’s already been marked.”

                “Listen,” Ulquiorra sighed. “Murcielago does not know of any of this, I do not think. He does not become aware of things until he takes control of my consciousness. You will have to act decisively if you realize he is in control, and make sure that you do engage Ichigo in battle at all costs.”

                “You seem to be banking on the other team,” Grimmjow scoffed. “But what happens to your plan if I defeat Ichigo?”

                Ulquiorra closed his eyes. “Then all hope is lost.”

                “How does this come out for you, in the end?” Grimmjow asked.

                “Ideally, Murcielago will be defeated by Ichigo.”

                “Which means…” Grimmjow had a strange look on his face.

                “…That I will die,” Ulquiorra finished.

                Grimmjow was thunderstruck. “Seriously? You don’t want to be with her?”

                “There is no other way, Grimmjow,” Ulquiorra whispered. “Murcielago will always be there, and he is a threat to her. It is better this way, and I will know she is safe at least. If Ichigo is strong enough to defeat Murcielago, I think that he will grow stronger still from that battle, and ultimately be able to defeat Lord Aizen. He will be strong enough then to protect Orihime for me.”

                “What about Aizen’s plan?” Grimmjow questioned. “Aren’t you on board with him?”

                Ulquiorra shrugged. “The Arrancar alliance with Aizen has always been a tenuous one. You know as well as any of the others that he is using us to his own ends. We are utterly disposable to him. Yet all of us serve him willingly, for lack of anything better to do, truth be told.”

                “Yeah.”

                “If any one of us had their own purposes, we would be naturally inclined to follow those.”

                Grimmjow let out a laugh at this. “Damn straight. You know me good.” He was silent for a few moments, lost in thought. “You’re really going to give up your life for her, then?”

                Ulquiorra nodded. “Yes.”

                Grimmjow sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Damn. That’s impressive. I mean, I have to say, I never expected anything like that from you, Ulquiorra.”

                “Nor did I. Things change.”

                Grimmjow nodded. “It would be nice to have someone like that.” His soft candor took Ulquiorra off guard. “I mean, fun and games is great and all… But…” He stared up at Ulquiorra. “Damn. I hate to admit it, but I’m a little envious of you.”

                “I will take that as a compliment.” Ulquiorra sat on the other end of the couch. “Who would you be with, though?”

                Grimmjow got a faraway look, and a slight smile. “Halibel.” He kicked his feet up on the low table in front of the couch, and folded his arms behind his head, leaning back and closing his eyes. “That bitch is so hot. We’ve been together y’know, in the past. It’s been a long time.” He signed. “You’re right though. Things change. People change. It sucks how you don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone, know what I mean? It was just fun and games with me and her back in the day. But I’ve changed since then.”

                Ulquiorra was doubtful of this, but then he thought of something more disturbing; What if he HAS changed? How much more irresponsible and reckless might he have been back then? To consider Grimmjow as ‘mature’ would be absurd by any account, but perhaps compared with who he used to be, he had come a long ways.

                “I wonder if she’d ever give me another chance?” Grimmjow mused. His face was deep in thought, and Ulquiorra began to wonder if perhaps love was the key to healing the Hollow in all of them. Just then, a smirk crept over his face, and Grimmjow leaned toward Ulquiorra, whispering in a confidential tone, “She is a total freak in bed, just so you know…”

                Ulquiorra rolled his eyes, sighing, and stood to leave. So much for love and evolution…

////////

                On his way back to his chambers, Ulquiorra received transmission from a dying Aaroniero Arrurerie, Espada Nine, that he and Rukia Kuchiki had killed eachother. Damn, Ulquiorra thought to himself. Time is already up. They have arrived at the palace.

                He sensed Ichigo nearby, and stepped into the doorway at the top of a long stairway, leading down into one of the large halls of the palace. He watched Ichigo, frozen, and realized he was sensing the fading spiritual pressure of his fallen comrade. “So, you’ve noticed,” Ulquiorra called to him. Ichigo turned, and stared in terror at the Espada. “I thought you were a kid who possessed only brute strength. Amazingly, you have some decent senses.”

                Ichigo stared. “You’re…”

                “It’s been a while, Soul Reaper.” Ulquiorra started down the stairs slowly.

                “You’re… Ulquiorra,” Ichigo asserted.

                “You remember my name. I don’t think I ever told you my name, though.” He reached the bottom of the stairs, and stood a short distance from the Soul Reaper. “Oh well. Rukia Kuchiki has died.”

                The information seemed to shock Ichigo, even though he had sensed it himself only a few moments before. “What?!”

                “More accurately, she and Espada number Nine killed each other. Her whole body was covered in cuts, and she was stabbed by a spear,” Ulquiorra relayed. “She can’t be alive.”

                “Don’t make assumptions,” Ichigo countered. “Rukia’s spiritual pressure only decreased just now. You weren’t even fighting her. There’s no way that you would know…”

                “Synchronized Awareness…” Ulquiorra cut him off. “That was one of Espada Number Nine’s abilities, as well as one of his roles. He can immediately convey information about the enemies he fights to his comrades.” Ichigo began to walk past Ulquiorra, toward a side exit of the chamber. “Where are you going?”

                “I’m going to save Rukia.” There was finality in his tone that left no room for doubt.

                “I thought I told you she’s dead.” Ulquiorra was irritated with the illogical, headstrong nature of this young man already.

                His back still turned toward Ulquiorra, the orange-haired man replied coldly, “I don’t believe you.”

                “You sure are stubborn,” Ulquiorra observed. Good. Maybe with this sort of resolve, you will have what it takes… Do you have the wisdom, though? “Is it alright for you to leave without killing me?”

                “I have no reason to fight you,” Ichigo told him, still not turning around.

                “What do you mean?”

                “You’re my enemy. But you haven’t hurt any of my friends yet.”

                He has integrity, Ulquiorra realized. He is willing to fight, but not mindlessly. He was the right choice. He will protect Orihime… But I must be sure of his strength. “So what if I tell you that I was the one who brought Orihime Inoue to Hueco Mundo?”

                Ichigo dropped Nel, who he had been carrying under one arm up until this point. He drew steel on the Espada, enraged. “So Inoue really didn’t go to Hueco Mundo of her own free will!”

                He had a savage side, this is good. He will need it later, Ulquiorra thought as he easily deflected the blade with his forearm. ”How unexpected. You were slightly doubtful of her even though you came to save her.”

                “Do you understand what you did?! Because of you Inoue is being called a traitor!”

                “Probably. If not, then we’ve miscalculated things.”

                “You bastard,” Ichigo snarled through clenched teeth.

                “Do you have a reason to fight me now?” Ulquiorra asked, provoking him intentionally. He was emotionally drained. He didn’t want this to drag out any further. Nel huddled in fear on the floor nearby. Ichigo pushed away from Ulquiorra with his blade, shoving himself backward a distance.

                “Ichigo,” Nel whimpered.

                “Nel, stand a little further away,” Ichigo instructed the tiny, child-like Arrancar.

                “Ichigo,” Nel snivelled again.

                “It seems that he’s not going to let me past,” he told Nel. Glancing at Ulquiorra, he told him, “Sorry. I’m in a hurry. I’m going to go at full strength. Bankai!” Black and red reitsu poured out of Ichigo and his sword.

                Ulquiorra watched as Ichigo shot high in the air, surrounded by a cloud of smoke. “A Bankai, huh?” He wasn’t really impressed, until Ichigo cleared the smoke, and raised his head. When Ulquiorra saw the bone mask the other man was wearing, his breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened. What is this?

                Ichigo charged an attack, black and red reitsu spiraling like a many-armed galaxy, and slashed at Ulquiorra, releasing it. The Cuatra kept his composure, only pulling his right hand from the pocket of his jacket to block the blast. He knew the attack was no match for his Hierro, one of the thickest among the Espada. What startled him was Ichigo following behind, and the brute force with which he pressed into him. Ulquiorra found himself flung back through four pillars before he gained his footing, crushing a fifth pillar as it absorbed the impact of him launching off it. He flew back toward the Shinigami, his mind whirling. What is that form? What is this spiritual pressure? It’s as if he’s like us.

                Ulquiorra was drawn out of his reveries by the realization that Ichigo was charging another attack. “It’s over,” Ichigo called. “Getsugatensho!” He released a massive arc of reitsu from his sword.

                Easily, Ulquiorra stopped the blast with his bare hand again. But the Reitsu bore down on him, heavier and heavier, pressing him slowly back, even as he braced himself against the crumbling tiles beneath his sandals. He pulled out his other hand, trying to deflect the blast, but still, it bore down on him. “Impossible,” he whispered as the blast engulfed him. He struck his head on a piece of flying stone, and blacked out.

                As Nel berated Ichigo for using such a draining attack in his already weakened state, Ichigo gasped as he saw a form stand from amidst the rubble. “What?” There were no direct indicators to him though, that this was not Ulquiorra he faced now. Much like Ichigo, when Ulquiorra’s regular self was too badly damaged or exhausted to go on, a darker Hollow stood in the wings to step in and take over, so the battle might not be lost. As he lost consciousness, it was Murcielago who was waiting eagerly for his turn.

                “My, my,” Murcielago chided. “I couldn’t even stop it with two hands. I’m a little surprised. Was that your best?” Ichigo stared, silent with shock. Murcielago dusted off his jacket. “It seems like it was.” He pointed a finger at the Soul Reaper, charging a green Cero at the tip. “How unfortunate.” Murcielago could tell that the battle hadn’t been going on for long, but he did know that the weakling Ulquiorra had not yet attempted to make any offensive moves toward the Shinigami. As Murcielago blasted his opponent through the wall of the tower and into the inner dome of the palace, he chuckled to himself. You’re a fool, Ulquiorra. I will not hesitate to kill these weaklings, even this woman of yours, since she has become such an inconvenience to me.

                Murcielago quickly caught up with Ichigo, who was carrying a now unconscious Nel, running across the sand, trying to find a place for her to rest. He roundhouse kicked the Soul Reaper mercilessly through the wall of a nearby tower. As Ichigo picked himself up out of the rubble inside the room, Murcielago watched him from the opening in the wall. “You took out that mask just when you blocked my Cero, didn’t you? Your reaction time is impressive. But this time, it broke instantly.” He began to stalk menacingly toward Ichigo, who was panting and wounded on all fours amidst the debris. “You can’t bring it out again. Give up.” He was shocked when Ichigo thrust his blade toward Murcielago’s chest, holding him at bay.

                “Who’s going to give up?” Ichigo gasped.

                Murcielago surveyed the situation. This man was covered in blood. His coat was half missing. He couldn’t even make it on to his feet. Yet here he was, defying the perfectly reasonable and logical demand to surrender.

                “You’re the leader of the Espada, aren’t you? That means that if I defeat you, this battle is pretty much won!”

                “I see,” Murcielago realized. “That’s unfortunate.” He grabbed the tip of the black Zanupakto pressed into his chest, and sliced the front of his jacket with it.

                “Wha-?” Ichigo lowered his sword, flabbergasted. The jacket fell open, revealing the number ‘four’ tattoo to the left of the Espada’s chest. “Four?!”

                “Yes… Cuatro Espada, Ulquiorra Cifer. Of the Espada, my strength ranks… Fourth.” He pinned the human with his ruthless green eyes, the way a cobra hypnotizes a bird. No sense in tipping my hand, Murcielago thought to himself. No doubt I am stronger than Cifer, but no sense in letting that out for now. The world need not know of my existence… Yet. He raised his hand and in a deft motion, stabbed his pointed fingers into the chest of the frozen man. “Ichigo Kurosaki… You cannot defeat me,” Murcielago proclaimed, as though speaking a prophecy over him. “Even if you do defeat me, there are three Espada above me. You can try a thousand times.” The light faded from Ichigo’s eyes, and Murcielago pulled his hand out, blood spilling from the wound. “You will not be victorious.” The lifeless body of Ichigo fell at his feet. “It seems that I overestimated you. Your development didn’t meet my expectations. This is it.” Murcielago turned to leave the tower through the gaping hole in the wall. He called back to the lifeless Ichigo, “If you can still move in that condition, leave this place immediately. If you can’t move, then die there. You path ends here, Soul Reaper.”



////////MEANWHILE////////

                Orihime was locked in her cell. She could feel the spiritual pressure of Rukia fading, and she pounded desperately on the door, to be released to go help her friend. “Let me out of here! Please, let me out!” she screamed. She began to dissolve into tears, and stopped pounding. “Let me out… Let me out…” she whimpered helplessly. “I don’t want it to be like this. Kuchiki…”

                She sobbed with futility. Then, she felt Ichigo’s reitsu flare, as he engaged in battle. She couldn’t tell who he was fighting; the other party wasn’t exerting any power, or was shielding it somehow. Helpless to assist in any way, she laid her head on the couch and continued to focus very hard on the energy flow of the nearby battle. At last, she was engulfed in black and red reitsu as she felt his life force fading. “Kurosaki?” she called. “It’s a lie! Kuchiki and now Kurosaki? That can’t be!”

                The door cracked open. Orihime looked up. “Ul…” she began, but stopped herself.

                “See? The princess is by herself.” A woman giggled. The door opened a little more, to reveal Loly and Menoly. “Orihime,” Loly called in a menacing sing-song tone, “Let’s play…”

////////

                When Grimmjow sensed Ichigo engaged in battle with Murcielago, he stood. “Damn, that was fast,” he muttered to himself, standing to leave his chamber. He would have to go check on Orihime, and take her to heal whatever leftover mess there was of Kurosaki once Murcielago was done.

                Once he got to the woman’s cell though, he saw the door had already been opened. Shit, he thought to himself, his anger rising. Who could have beaten me here? In his anger, he blasted a Cero through the wall. Surveying the room from the gaping hole, he was relieved to spot a very surprised Loly and Menoly, assaulting the prisoner. Thank goodness, it’s only them, he thought. This is just a cat fight- it could have been much, much worse.

                Loly Aivirrne and Menoly Mallia. The two of them were known unofficially, along with Cirucci Sanderwicci and a few others, as the whores of Las Noches, though that was a misnomer. The term ‘whore’ implied that there was payment of some type for services rendered, and this was not the case. They were provided with basic room and board of course, but any ‘payment’ above and beyond that was simply the sparing of their lives, and the tolerance of their presence on a regular basis. More like a harem of shared concubines, the Espada were able to call on them at their leisure, and it was well known that even Aizen frequently held “private audience” with them in his chambers. Grimmjow strongly suspected that it was this very issue which had caused the attack. Loly and Menoly were the usual first choices of Lord Aizen, and he was sure that the arrival of Orihime, and subsequent special treatment and attention received by her, had spiked no end of paranoia and jealousy in these two. They had probably come to assert their dominance over her, and make clear that they would not be ousted as Aizen’s favorites.   Funny, Grimmjow smirked to himself, seeing as how in reality, the only one banging her has been Ulquiorra.

                “You seem to be having fun sneaking in here while Ulquiorra’s not around,” Grimmjow snarled.

                The girls turned toward Grimmjow, fear evident in their eyes. “What of it?” asked Menoly, but the tremor in her voice belied her cocky words. They knew they were in trouble. Deep trouble. They might be Aizen’s personal aides and bedroom entertainment, but they were still only Numeros, not Espada. In assaulting Orihime, they had far overstepped their boundaries, and Grimmjow was well within his rights to punish the girls however he saw fit.

                “How did you get in?” Loly demanded.

                “How? Though the wall, of course,” he countered.

                “What kind of a joke is that?” Loly snapped, irritated.

                “Why not? I don’t know who did it, but the entrance was broken already!” He began to stalk toward Loly. She had always been the trouble maker, and he was sure she had spear-headed this foolishness. Menoly was the more mild-mannered of the two, and she was probably just easily convinced to come along.

                “Why you… Cut it out!” Loly squealed. She still stood incriminatingly over Orihime, who was visibly abused, cowering on the ground by the side of the couch.

                Grimmjow raised his arm. “Out of the way,” he ordered Loly as he back-handed her across the room. He glanced threateningly back at Menoly, sneering, “Oh? Did I use too much force?” Loly picked herself up on all fours, coughing and vomiting from the pain of her injuries.

                “Grimmjow!” Menoly cried in rage and ran at him, a small red Cero charged in her left hand. Grimmjow lifted his hand and closed his fingers around Menoly’s, easily blocking the Cero and reflecting it, amplified, back at her point-blank. She shrieked as it discharged, blowing her away.

                “Menoly!” Loly screamed from across the room.

                “How dangerous,” Grimmjow scolded. “Be careful of how you use your Cero.”

                “L-Lord Aizen won’t let you get away with doing this to us,” Loly screeched from the ground. Grimmjow turned his severe glare on the woman. He began to pace menacingly across the room toward her. “Hey… Wh-What is it?! Hey! What are you doing?! Don’t come near me! No! No!” She was frenzied with terror.

                “Boom!” shouted Grimmjow. Loly instinctively covered her head. “Idiot,” he scoffed in distain.

                “Lord Aizen should kill you! Kill you! Kill you!” Loly keened, her hand still half-raised protectively near her face. Grimmjow lifted his foot and stomped on her head, knocking her out.

                “You idiot,” he muttered to the unconscious Arrancar. “Aizen would never do anything for the likes of you.”

                Orihime trembled, watching this scene unfold before her. “Wh-why?” was all she could manage to get out.

                Grimmjow turned his attention to her finally, now that the immediate threat had been neutralized, and the perpetrators sufficiently reprimanded. “This is in return for my left arm,” he explained, which was not untrue. She had completely restored his left arm, which had been severed and incinerated by Lord Aizen’s Lieutenant, Kaname Tozsen. This, along with Grimmjow’s slaying of his replacement, Luppi Antenor, restored him to his standing rank as Seis Espada, which had been stripped of him. He certainly owed the woman for that.

                “Huh?” She was still a little stunned from the thrashing she had taken earlier. She certainly wasn’t expecting it when Grimmjow snatched her up by the collar of her dress and held her up in the air. “What?...”

                “What am I doing?” he finished for her. “Did you think I came here just to save you? How naïve. I returned your favor. Now you can’t complain. Now I want you to help me.” He set her down. “Fix your face.” She hesitated. “Fix it right now,” he ordered her.

                Orihime glanced over and Loly, who had regained consciousness, and was struggling to get up. Orihime ran to her side, and fell on her knees. “Hey!” Grimmjow barked, but she ignored him.

                Loly glanced back to Orihime, fury and hurt in her eyes. “Wh-what are you doing?”

                “Shuno… Ayame…” Orihime whispered, and forms flew out from her snowflake hairpins, circling in the air around the two of them.

                “What are you doing?” Loly demanded. Orihime did not respond and Loly back-handed her angrily. Orihime still gave no response, except that of her healing shield, which surrounded Loly. She was awestruck as she felt her injuries fading under the hands of the woman. Once she had finished, Orihime stood without a word, and walked over to the body of Menoly, which had been blown mostly away by the reflected Cero. “You’re kidding, right?” Loly whispered, watching in disbelief as Orihime rejected Menoly’s injuries, returning her body to a perfect and whole state. What’s the deal with her? What is it? Loly wondered. She’s… She’s a monster!

////////

                Ichigo lay motionless on the floor of the tower. Nel was crying, calling out to him, crawling across the rubble, begging him not to die. A foot came down in front of her face, and she looked up, stricken with terror.

                “Out of the way, kid.”

                She trembled with fear. “Seis Espada… Lord Grimmjow.”

                Grimmjow ignored her, and went over to the lifeless body of Ichigo. He gave him a rough kick, rolling him over to reveal the hole in the center of his chest. “I thought so,” he murmured aloud, though mostly to himself. He yanked on the top of a large bag he had been carrying.

                “Stop!” screamed Nel.

                Orihime fell out of the bag, gagged and her hands bound. With a slash, Grimmjow cut through the gag as she hit her knees, her eyes still adjusting to the light. She gawked, incredulous, at the sight that came into view before her.

                “Heal him,” Grimmjow commanded. He flopped down on a large piece of stone from the broken wall. Orihime gaped at him like a fish out of water, disbelieving the request; then she set up the golden aura around him, not wasting any more time, lest the Seis Espada come to his senses and stop her from helping her friend.

////////MEANWHILE////////

                Loly and Menoly stood terror stricken, their backs to the wall of Orihime’s cell. Murcielago came through the doorway, pacing slowly. “What’s the meaning of this? Who did this?”

                “Grimmjow,” the girls told him.

                “I see.”

////////

                Nel began to wail and moan, begging Orihime to heal Ichigo. Grimmjow threatened her with violence if she didn’t stop her yapping. “He’ll be healed without you asking. Shut up and watch,” he commanded her.

                Orihime was concentrating hard, but had encountered some difficulty. An incredible spiritual pressure is swirling around Kurosaki’s wounds, she thought. I can’t… reject it… “Who did this?” she asked.

                “Ulquiorra,” Grimmjow said. Her heart sank. “This is how he does things. I’m not sure whether he’s aware of it or not. He always punches a hole into prey he becomes fond of, in the same location of his own. I’ll teach him the punishment for attacking someone else’s prey.”

                Ichigo’s fingers began to twitch, and everyone looked on eagerly. “Nel and Inoue…” he said weakly.

                “Kurosaki,” Orihime sighed in relief.

                “Ichigo!” Nel sniveled.

                “Shut up!” Grimmjow commanded, taking an angry step toward them. They didn’t understand the urgency of the situation. “If you have time to make a fuss, then heal him already!”

                “You’re… Grimmjow! But why are you with Inoue?!” Ichigo was confused.

                “You shut up too, and get healed!” Grimmjow snapped impatiently. “I came here to settle things with you when you’re fully healed!”

                Orihime was mortified. “Grimmjow, is that why you’re making me heal him?”

                “I told you to shut up!” he barked again, his intensity increasing as he knew his time was getting shorter. “He’s dying, but I’m letting you heal him! Don’t complain! Hurry! Ulquiorra will catch on sooner or later, and come back. Before he does…” Damn, Grimmjow thought as he sensed the spiritual pressure behind him. Out of time already.

                “Ulquiorra…” he said, testing the other Espada. It looked like him, but he knew from what he had been shown earlier from Ulquiorra’s Solita Vista, that Murcielago sometimes took over the same body with different consciousness. He knew Ulquiorra himself had a habit of attacking his victims with what had been done to Ichigo, but because of what he had seen, he doubted in this case it had actually been Ulquiorra.

                “What are you doing, Grimmjow?” Murcielago demanded.

                Grimmjow did not reply. He was gauging the words of the Arrancar coming toward him. He guessed well enough that Murcielago would not reveal his presence, as keeping it so easily concealed was an ace up the sleeve for him.

                “What’s wrong? I’m asking you… What do you think you’re doing? Healing the wounds of the enemy I defeated?”

                Grimmjow smirked. Yes. He sensed the Reitsu here, and could tell that while very similar, it was not quite Ulquiorra’s. His mannerisms were mimicked almost perfectly. Someone who did not know him so well might be more easily fooled.

                “You’re not going to answer?” Murcielago asked, stopping a few feet away. He glared at the other Espada, then past him, to the woman. Orihime stared at him, and knew from the look in his eyes that it was no longer Ulquiorra. She cast her gaze down to the side, feeling her heart ready to pound through her chest. She heard Ulquiorra’s words in her memory;   “Do not despair. Fix your mind and your heart on whatever fills you... Other than me. Think on your friends, who have come to save you. Think on halcyon days of your youth. You must steel your heart against him. You must remember, though it appears to be my body… It is him. It is emptiness.”

                “Fine,” snapped Murcielago. “Anyway, Lord Aizen has entrusted that girl to me. Hand her over.”

                Like hell I am, you tricky bastard, Grimmjow thought. If Ulquiorra was lucky enough to have found something as worthy of having as this, I will help him protect it. And anyway, my business with the Soul Reaper is still unfinished. I will have to buy us some time… “I refuse,” was all he said.

                “What?” Murcielago couldn’t believe his ears. Was this inferior Arrancar defying him?

                “What’s wrong? You’re sure talkative today… Ulquiorra!” Grimmjow mocked, coming at him. His blue Cero was easily blocked by Murcielago’s bare hand, but the point had been made. “I know, Ulquiorra,” Grimmjow teased. “You’re afraid to fight me. You’re afraid to fight to the death!” He fired a more powerful red Cero into Murcielago’s hand, blasting him back. This took him off guard, but he blocked it again with ease.

                “You deflected it, huh? I expected that one shot wouldn’t…” Grimmjow choked on his words as he lost line of sight with the other Espada. He knew Ulquiorra was a master of Sonido, and clearly it was an ability which Murcielago shared. Grimmjow spotted his opponent above him, charging a green Cero at close range. Grimmjow put his hand out and palmed the blast, deflecting it and causing mass destruction to the surrounding tower. Debris and dust billowed everywhere, and an airborne Murcielago momentarily lost track of his enemy.

                A moment was all that was needed.

                Grimmjow reached out of the cloud from behind Murcielago, and clutched at his jacket. Before Murcielago was able to respond, he realized he’d been had. A small, black box slipped out of Grimmjow’s hand where he had been palming it, and into the Hollow hole in Murcielago’s chest. Wild card, asshole, Grimmjow smirked to himself.

                Bands of black and white reitsu shot out of Murcielago’s chest, surrounding him and wrapping him tightly. “Damn,” he whispered as it seemed to condense, and shrank until it popped out of sight, taking him along with it.

                Orihime stood on the sand amidst the remains of the crumbled tower. Her personal protective shield shattered. “Wh-what was that, just now?”

                Grimmjow landed lightly in front of her. “Aizen gives us Espada something called a ‘Caja de Negacion,’ which is used to punish subordinates. I used that.”

                “Caja de Negacion?” Orihime asked.

                “It’ll trap most guys in a closed dimension forever. But it’s not something that’s made to work against other Espada. Taking his Spiritual Pressure into consideration, he’ll probably stay trapped for two to three hours. Now that you know, get to healing him.”

                Orihime frowned defiantly. “I don’t want to.”

                Grimmjow grabbed her up by her throat. “I’m not asking you whether you want to heal him or not! Heal him!”

                “No. If I heal Kurosaki, you’re just going to hurt him, aren’t you? I won’t do it.”

                You damn idiot, Grimmjow thought. This is for your own good. All of this is for you. How can you not see that? But his pride would not permit him to confess this to her. “You bastard,” was all he managed to get out.

                A hand fell on his arm, and he was awestruck to see Kurosaki standing there. “Let go of her,” he told the Espada quietly. Grimmjow dropped Orihime, and jerked his arm out of the Soul Reaper’s grasp.

                “Kuro…” Orihime began, but Ichigo cut her off.

                “Inoue. Heal me.”

                “Huh?” She was shocked.

                “Heal my wounds,” he reiterated to her. “And… His as well.” He indicated Grimmjow’s right arm, scorched from Murcielago’s Cero blast which had destroyed the tower.

                “Stop! I’ve done nothing to get your sympathy.” Grimmjow didn’t want any special favors from these two. He just wanted to straighten things out between him and this Soul Reaper, and follow through on his promise to Ulquiorra.

                “Me neither, “countered Ichigo. “But you want to fight on equal terms, don’t you? Or… Are you going to use those wounds as an excuse when you lose?”

                That was enough. Grimmjow drew on Ichigo, slamming his blade against that of the Soul Reaper. He was insulted, but grinning nevertheless. He liked the spirited nature of this cocky, arrogant young man, and he always loved a good, enthusiastic fight. “Bring it on! Let’s have a fair fight to the death!” They shoved back from each other.

                “I accept your challenge,” Ichigo said.

                Orihime reluctantly agreed to heal the both of them. She and Nel sat on the sidelines atop the damaged remains of one of the towers, and watched the two of them pummel each other. Orihime could tell that there wasn’t the usual enthusiasm behind Ichigo’s fighting, and she wondered why.

                Grimmjow seemed to notice the same thing, and taunted Ichigo. “What’s with that look on your face? It seems like you really have no intent to kill me. You’re so pathetic.”

                “What?”

                Grimmjow used Sonido and came crashing down right behind Ichigo, slashing at him, forcing him backward across the sand. “Let me ask you this, Kurosaki. Why did you come here?”

                “That’s obvious!” Ichigo replied scornfully. “To save Inoue!”

                Grimmjow scoffed. “Then why didn’t I see you even attempt to run away with her when you saw her?!” Finally on the right track, he thought as he saw the evidence on Kurosaki’s face that the wheels were starting to turn in his head. “Were you relieved that she appeared to be unharmed? You’re so dim-witted. You don’t even know how she is on the inside.” Grimmjow smiled as he saw his opponent come just the tiniest bit unglued. Yes, that’s it, he thought. Get angry. Give it to me; give me everything, all your anger, all your rage, all your hatred. Bring it out and give it to me. Let it shape and strengthen you. The worst part about it all was that everything he was saying was completely true. There was no need to make anything up to provoke the Shinigami; the bare truth was enough.

                “Did you do something to Inoue?!”

                I never touched the woman. But that’s not important. Stay focused on your rage. Now that it’s begun, I must continue to pull at it, like a loose string on a sweater, until the whole thing- until YOU yourself- come unraveled. “That’s a good expression… Kurosaki!” Grimmjow raged. “You said that you came here to save that girl, right? You don’t seem to understand, so I’ll tell you! You’re wrong.” Kurosaki stared on with disbelief. “You came here to fight. You can see it... The path your instincts show you. You’re a Soul Reaper! I’m a Hollow! The loser will be slaughtered! That’s what’s been done for thousands of years now! Is there any other reason to fight?! Come on! The last one standing can leave alive! That’s all!” He flew at Ichigo, sword first. They clashed over and over again, Ichigo loosing Getsugatenshos to counter Grimmjow’s Cero blasts.

                “You’ve got a good look to you now, Kurosaki.” Grimmjow landed on the ground, slamming his sword into the sand. “But…” He ran two fingers down the edge of his blade, slicing himself, flinging blood into an arc toward the Soul Reaper. “That’s not good enough! That’s not the side of you I really want to fight!” He began to charge a massive blue Cero in the hand he had sliced. “Take this! This is the most powerful Cero, which only Espada are allowed to use!”

                As Ichigo fell through the air, he realized that Grimmjow was not aiming the blast at him. He followed the line of the trajectory. “Inoue…” he gasped. “Wait, Grimmjow!”

                “Gran Rey Cero!” Grimmjow released the blast, a maniacal grin plastered across his face.

                When the smoke cleared, Ichigo stood in mid-air with his back to Orihime, facing Grimmjow, having successfully deflected the blast. “Kurosaki,” Orihime called softly. She could sense the strange reitsu emanating from him.

                “You’ve finally shown yourself,” Grimmjow murmured with quiet satisfaction.

                Orihime clasped her hands tightly together. She wanted Ichigo to turn around, to allay this dread that was welling up in her throat. But she was terrified that if he did, it would only serve to confirm her fears. This Reitsu is so strange, not like Kurosaki at all… More like…   One of them… It felt like an eternity that he just stood there, not moving, her anxiety growing. Finally, he glanced back at her, and her world came to a grinding halt. Those… eyes… She saw the bone mask over his face, and those strange, black eyes with the yellow irises…

                He turned away again. “Sorry,” he whispered in a strange, terrifying voice. “Are you scared?” Orihime did not reply. “It’s hard to tell you not to worry when I look like this. But I’ll tell you anyway. Don’t worry. I’ll end this soon.”

                Psychotic laughter erupted from below. “That’s good. I’ve been waiting for this moment!” Grimmjow held his sword across the other side of his body, dragging first his fingertips, then his nails, down the flat of the blade from the hilt toward the tip. “Grind, Pantera!” he roared, releasing his Resurreccion.

                “Inoue.” As sand and wind whipped around Grimmjow, Ichigo spoke with a calm, quiet urgency. “From here on, place a Santenkesshun in front of you and Nel. And make sure never to undo it.” She stared at him, disconcerted by his clarity. “Do it now!”

                Orihime gasped, and immediately complied. “Santenkesshun! I reject!” she proclaimed as the triangular, golden shield materialized in front of her. Her thoughts spun as she watched them continue to fight. She couldn’t believe this was actually Kurosaki before her. A much more feline-looking Resurreccion version of Grimmjow blasted some rockets at her, and Ichigo flash-stepped into the path, taking the full brunt of all five rockets squarely in his back. She cried out in dismay.

                “I’m all right. This is nothing,” he assured her. When he looked up, she imagined she saw the face of her brother, Sora, as a Hollow, superimposed in her mind over Ichigo’s own mask. He returned to battle, but the ghosts remained to haunt her.

                I mustn’t be afraid… I mustn’t… be afraid, she thought, even though she trembled as images flashed through her memory. When I remember those eyes, I feel as if Kurosaki has become someone else. I feel as if Kurosaki can’t see me. Just like my brother.

                Nel looked over at Orihime, and saw her eyes closed tightly. She could tell the woman was in some inner turmoil, but it didn’t matter. Ichigo was in trouble. He had always been invincible before once he put on the mask, but he was really taking a thrashing now at the hands of Grimmjow.

                “Give it your all, Ichigo!” Orihime was drawn out of her musings by the loud screaming of the tiny Arrancar.                 “Give it your all, Ichigo!”   Nel repeated. “Come on! What are you doing?!” she barked at Orihime. “You cheer him on too!”

                “Huh?”

                “Don’t ‘Huh?’ Nel! Ichigo is fighting for you! So why are you afraid of him?! You said Ichigo was a kind person, right?! That’s right! Nel thinks so too! Ichigo is kind! When he heard your name, he lunged at Lord Ulquiorra! Ichigo is human! But he’s become a Soul Reaper. He’s put on a mask and is using such insane power! There’s no way that he can’t be suffering! He has to be suffering! But Ichigo is doing this for you! He’s fighting and using that power and becoming bloodied! Wh-why aren’t you cheering him on?!”

                Orihime realized Nel was right. She had come to Hueco Mundo to protect her friends. She had thought she was ready to sacrifice herself for them. But when she heard they had come for her, she was happy. She realized that she wasn’t afraid of Kurosaki himself, she was more afraid he would lose the battle.

                “Don’t die…” she called weakly. Somehow, he heard her, and looked up. She was encouraged by this, and screamed, “Don’t die, Kurosaki!” Tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks. “You don’t have to win,” she wept. “You don’t have to try. Just don’t get hurt anymore.”

                “Kurosaki!” Grimmjow snarled, rushing him, a clawed hand outstretched to strike. Without even looking, Ichigo reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him in his tracks. The look on Ichigo’s face when he turned back toward Grimmjow, was completely incomprehensible to the Espada. There was a soft, almost benevolent smile there that the Sexta did now know what to do with.

                “Sorry, Grimmjow,” Ichigo apologized. “It seems that I… I can’t lose to you any longer.” With a single deft motion, Ichigo slashed through Grimmjow’s chest. Blood spilled over the sand. Grimmjow fell to his knees. “It’s over.”

                Grimmjow’s claw shot out and grasped the tip of Ichigo’s sword. “Don’t make me laugh,” he rasped. “D-do you think… that you’ve won… against me?!” Grimmjow remembered all he had come though as a hollow, his evolution to Gillian, then Adjuchas… The others followed him, looked to his power to lead them. They called him their king. I will not be so easily dethroned by someone such as you, he thought as he pierced his clawed hand through Ichigo’s midsection, and then retreated a few meters away. “What’s with that look on your face? You’re always like that. No matter how much I best you… You think that you can beat me. You think you’re stronger than I am! I hate that!” he snarled, rushing at Ichigo across the sand with incredible speed, knocking him back, then going at him again more forcefully.

                “What do you hate?” Ichigo chuckled. “Do you hate that a mere human is treating you like an equal?!”

                Grimmjow stabbed his hand again into Ichigo’s stomach. He flung the Soul Reaper away from him as blood spewed from the young man’s mouth, which was now visible due to the gradual crumbling of his Hollow mask over the duration of the fight. “That has nothing to do with it. It doesn’t matter if you’re a human, a Soul Reaper, or an Arrancar! I’ll crush anyone who takes me for a fool! I’ll begin… With you, Kurosaki!” He dragged his claws through the air, leaving ten great stripes of bright blue reitsu that looked like vast lacerations on the sky.   “Here I go.”

                Ichigo was awed. “Wha-? What is that?”

                “Desgarron. It’s my strongest technique.” He let out a growl as he released five of the beams from his hand in a slash. They hurtled toward Ichigo and ground against his sword, sparking, and he tried desperately to block them, finally deflecting the attack to the sides. “It’s over, Kurosaki! You make me sick! You’re going to lose to me! I… I am the king!”

                Ichigo stabbed his sword into the Desgarron, sparks flying out all around as he dragged his blade across the Reitsu, causing the band of it to shatter and crumble. “You’re… you’re not the only one who wants to win.”

                “What?”

                “’I’ll begin with you,’ you say? That’s my line!” The other Desgarron faded around him as Ichigo pushed off the sand, flying toward Grimmjow. The Espada snarled and slashed, releasing the Desgarron from his other hand. “It’s as you say… I came here to fight with you!” He dragged the blade of his Zanupakto through the Reitsu, dispersing it immediately. “I came here to defeat you, Grimmjow! I’m going to defeat you! I’m going to defeat Ulquiorra! I’m going to defeat Aizen!” He continued to advance with increasing speed. “Rukia! Chad! Ishida! Renji! And Inoue! I’m going to bring them all back! I can’t lose to you, Grimmjow!”

                As the sword tip neared him, Grimmjow’s face softened. Yes, Ulquiorra. He has what it takes. He has the resolve. Your woman will be safe. He will be able to protect her. “Damn,” he whispered at the pain of the sword impaling him, coughing blood. Farewell, Ulquiorra. I hope in the next life, I am fortunate enough to find a moment of what you had. Happiness. Love… As the light faded from his eyes and his body slumped, the last thought that fluttered through his mind was a distant memory of a much younger Tia Hallibel, lying beside him in the white sand, wearing nothing but moonlight and sweat. She was smiling at him. That look in her eyes… Maybe…

                Ichigo reached out and grabbed the wrist of the slain Panther King, lowering him gently to the ground, letting his body lay in a crumpled heap in the sand. He stood for a few minutes over the body, as if maybe silently reciting some prayer for the dead, before returning to retrieve Orihime and Nel from the tower they had been waiting on top of. He brought them down to the sand, and they discussed his plan to go save Chad and Rukia.

                What… the hell? Blue eyes reflected sky. I’m not…? Shit… A shadow cast on the sand drew their attention, and they looked up. There stood Grimmjow, struggling for breath. This isn’t done yet, you bastard, he thought to himself. I told Ulquiorra I would fight to the death. One of us has to finish this. He staggered across the sand, his Resurreccion dissipating as he returned to his usual form, unable to maintain it due to his weakened state. “Like I’m gonna lose,” he threatened, though he knew his words carried no clout, considering the condition he was in at the moment. “There’s… There’s no way I’d lose to the likes of you!” He ran at the Soul Reaper as best he could, his sword outstretched. I have to finish this. The woman’s safety depends on it. I swore to Ulquiorra I would help him.

                Ichigo threw his sword aside. It landed in the sand, and he caught the Espada’s blade in his hand. “Enough, Grimmjow,” he reprimanded softly. “You’ve lost. I don’t know if you’re a king or whatever. But killing off whoever displeases you and becoming a king who’s all alone… What’s so great about that? If you don’t like me, I’ll fight you as often as you like. So… Just stop for now.”

                “Quit joking around! You’re…” Grimmjow was cut short by a blade intersecting the side of his neck. No!! No, no, no! This can’t end like this… He fell to the sand gently, as if in slow motion, and lay there, unable to get back up again.

                “You just don’t know when to give up,” a voice leered. “Hurry up and die. I’ll have him for myself.”

                “Who the hell are you?” Ichigo called to the tall, thin man who was coming toward him. “Are you an Espada? I asked who you are! Answer me!”

                Grimmjow, barely able to move, strained to turn his head to look. “Nnoitora, you bastard…” He trailed off. You’re going to ruin everything.

                “What? You’re still alive?” Nnoitora remarked, incredulous. He leapt into the air, coming down over top of Grimmjow, who was completely helpless. Ichigo came in between the two Espada, blocking the death stroke from the crescent-shaped blade. “What’re you doing?”

                “That’s my line,” Ichigo countered. “He can’t move. Why would you attack him?”

                “HA!” Nnoitora pushed Ichigo away. “What a miserable sight you are, Grimmjow. Come on. You lose to your opponent, then he protects you?”

                Grimmjow lay uselessly on the sand, watching Nnoitora and Ichigo fight. They’ve forgotten about me, he realized at last. The fight had moved some distance away by this time. He could not stand to move from where he lay. This is pitiful, he thought scornfully. It would have been kinder for him to let Nnoitora put me out of my misery. Kurosaki has a strange concept of ‘mercy,’ sparing someone in my state instead of ending my suffering… Grimmjow continued to rest on the soft ground, irritated that he’d been so easily cast aside. Maybe it’s a good thing, though. It means he’s focusing seriously on his fight with Nnoitora. Grimmjow knew how dangerous the Cinco Espada could be, and decided ultimately, it was prudent of Ichigo to be focused so intently on his opponent.

                Looking around, trying to think of something to do while he lay there, his eyes fixed on the sky above him. There was a fissure in the fabric of reality up there. The space was warped from him using his Gran Rey Cero, and the sky crackled with energy and electricity, occasionally kicking out a blast of wind and reitsu. Tendrils of the lightening shot out from the tear, licking the landscape, scouring it in wide sheets of light. Pockets of unstable space began to appear, crawling across the sand and sky, sucking sand and rocks up and sometimes depositing them in other places nearby. Grimmjow could do nothing but watch as the rifts crept increasingly closer and closer to where he lay, popping in and out of existence.

                Suddenly, he found himself floating in darkness. Shit, I got sucked into one of those things. He lay there, hoping it would spit him back out soon. He glanced around, and was shocked to see Ulquiorra standing nearby, his back turned. Grimmjow sensed the Reitsu, and decided it felt like Ulquiorra and not Murcielago. “Hey.”

                Ulquiorra turned around abruptly, and then vanished. “Grimmjow?” The voice came from above, and Grimmjow looked up to see Ulquiorra standing at some impossible angle. “What is going on? Where is this, and what happened to you?”

                “Caja de Negacion, I think,” Grimmjow coughed. “Trapped Murcielago to fight Ichigo, then that bastard wouldn’t finish the job.”

                “The Caja de Negacion is a closed dimension. How are you here?”

                “I used Gran Rey Cero. Warped the space inside the dome. Got sucked through an instability.”

                “Idiot,” Ulquiorra scolded. He looked at the Seis Espada laying there, incapacitated by his injuries, and his face softened a little. “Thank you, Grimmjow,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

                “For what?” Grimmjow laughed, groaning and coughing blood. “For not finishing the job to the terms we agreed upon?”

                “No. I think it will be enough,” Ulquiorra admitted. “You did your best. It is a mark of his character that he would not kill you. There is no glory to be had in defeating an opponent in this state.”

                Grimmjow chuckled painfully. “Tell that to Nnoitora.” Ulquiorra shifted again, to the side. “Stop doing that,” Grimmjow snapped. “It’s annoying.”

                “I am doing nothing. It is you, caught in the singularity,” Ulquiorra explained. “What about Nnoitora?”

                “He tried to put me down. Kurosaki wouldn’t let him.”

                Ulquiorra’s eyes widened at this. Such idealism… He was surely the right choice to protect Orihime. “Do you think he is strong enough from…” Ulquiorra stopped, searching around for the other Espada, but he had vanished. Damn…

                Before Grimmjow had appeared, he had not been exactly sure where he was or what was going on, seeing as how he had simply woken up here. He had been attempting to perform some Kido-type spells to return himself to Hueco Mundo. He was fearful to learn what he may have done as Murcielago before getting locked inside the Caja de Negacion, but that didn’t matter now. He knew he had to get out, and put Murcielago against Ichigo. The timing was important, but that would be impossible to control, he knew. It would be ideal if Ichigo had completed his battle with Nnoitora first, and gained strength from that, but Ulquiorra was more concerned for the safety of Orihime during the ensuing combat. If Ichigo was focused on his opponent, it would take only a moment of him being distracted, for something untoward to befall Orihime. Ulquiorra could not bear that thought. He sensed the boundaries of the closed dimension encapsulating him, feeling for a seam line or some sort of weakness. He slashed at the walls with his sword, but still, nothing. He tried to release his Resurreccion, but the space felt too confining to hold the Reitsu. He continued, trying repeatedly to crack the walls of his prison by filling the space beyond capacity with his Reitsu, until he was exhausted. He felt as though someone were pushing past him then, in a narrow hallway, and heard the rustle of leathery wings before he began to fade out once more. Damn, not again… I’m sorry, Orihime…
- 3
- 4
- 5
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Resolution