Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Different Circumstances ❯ The Warrior ( Chapter 32 )

Tite Kubo owns Bleach and the characters depicted therein. The characters in this story are not mine, mostly.

 

The Warrior

 

Yachiru might look scared, Retsu might be the most senior officer, Isane might have told him what she thought but Kurotsuchi was talking to the other males as if we weren't there. And they were ignoring us as well! How could they pretend that we weren't there, or ignore the possibility that we might have opinions on the matters under discussion? Were they so ignorant that they thought we would idly stand by and permit them to make a decision which could result in having any possible new life we were carrying destroyed on some male whim without any action? It provided an insight into how Kurotsuchi viewed other people and the whole thick headed male way of thinking.

 

Kurotsuchi's view on females was already clear from the way he treated his daughter. Even though she was a creation of his own and, by his own admission, contained some of his essence, he couldn't accept her as an equal. None of us were his equal, in his mind and I would have learnt that if I'd listened to him properly. As pregnant females posed a problem, he would simply remove the problem with no consideration of emotions, physical consequences and regardless of the wishes of the females. Breeding animals were of limited use and could be discarded as required.

 

It bore out my theory that he believed that we shouldn't have control of our own bodies. I hated men like him! Not that I needed any additional reasons to hate the man.

 

I stood, despite the face that Zaraki was already trying to handle the problem. I wasn't going to put up with these men and their attitudes or permit them to ignore us any longer. “Pregnancy is not a disease, you idiots,” I stormed at them, furious at being treated as if I'd lost my intelligence and right to decide because I was pregnant. “Women don't lose the use of their limbs or abilities because of it. I can still fight and defend myself. I don't need to rely on some man to save me when I can save myself.”

 

“Like you did when you were abducted,” Kurotsuchi asked with cold amusement and I felt the bile rise in my throat at the reminder. “Yes, you saved yourself then, didn't you? Your husband didn't have to break all the rules to go and retrieve you, did he? He didn't put others in jeopardy? You were doing just fine when he got here, amusing yourself with your lovers. And you didn't nearly die, did you?”

 

The pain and anger that his words aroused robbed me of speech. I found it hard to believe that he would mock me on that subject. How could I protect myself when I was unconscious? Even while he exposed my weakness he made the whole incident seem insignificant and trivial. I had nearly died, but his voice, words and tone implied that I had either participated in the whole disaster or been weak and foolish in permitting it to happen. I had trouble thinking of how to reply without crying or attacking the man.

 

“That's nothing to joke about,” Arai said, obviously aghast at the comments. His quick movement toward his zanpakuto was halted by the sound of his captain's voice.

 

“Kurotsuchi, I'm warning you,” Zaraki's voice was low and deep as Yachiru held onto his arm exerting her hidden strength trying to keep him still. “Don't speak to my wife like that. You slight us all.” He jerked his arm hard, but Yachiru held on strongly. Arai quickly joined her, holding onto my husband's other arm, but I didn't think they'd hold him for long. A soft growl echoed through the room and I felt goose bumps form on my arms. That terrifying noise was issuing from my husband. I had hardly recognised the voice as being his as it barely sounded human. The scent of salt and copper grew in strength.

 

“Why is it any concern of hers? She only lives because we permit her to continue her existence. I feel that's the best way to treat all females,” Kurotsuchi said as he smiled without amusement. “Getting upset again, Zaraki? Pavlov and Skinner would be jealous of the fun I will have with you.”

 

The names threw me as I had no idea who those people were. Before anything else could be said Zaraki picked up Yachiru and bundled her into Arai's unwilling arms, despite both their protests. “Hold her,” he commanded with the authority of one who knows he will not be denied. Again his voice was nearly unrecognisable and made me shudder.

 

“Don't do it Ken-chan. It's the worst thing you can do, you know that,” Yachiru's voice was a thin scream of fear and anguish. “Think of my brother or sister. Please.”

 

“Get back all of you, except you, my friend,” the ironic greeting to Kurotsuchi fooled no one. The words were followed by a large gout of blood which splattered on the floor as Zaraki spat at the 12th Division captains feet.

 

My eyes were fixed on the dark red, gleaming pool that absorbed the light around it. Back in the Academy, in one of the lessons I had nearly paid attention to, the instructor had mentioned something about blood and fighting. It was something extraordinarily rare and dangerous that could occur to a handful of fighters and was triggered by the taste of blood. Most often their own. When any of these people were identified they were hunted down with the intention to incarcerate them in the Maggots Nest, but from what the instructor said all of them had been killed. While the objective was to put them in the prison, the fate of each one had been death because they refused to be captured alive. The death toll from these incidents was never disclosed and the estimates were very high. I had heard murmuring that even if one was captured; there was no guarantee that the Maggot's Nest would hold them.

 

Greatly prized, if there was any way to control the power, but instead mainly feared, I had thought they were a legend, or perhaps hoped would be the more correct word. I had forgotten that legends occasionally had a basis in truth. It's hard to adjust quickly when you find you've married a legend. A legend that would deliver a brutal and fast death, to scores of people if necessary; me included.

 

Unwillingly I dragged my gaze from the hypnotic glitter of the blood staining the floor and allowed it to travel to where my husband stood. I didn't notice the nails biting into my palms as I, with a great amount of cowardice trying to prevent me from doing so, forced my eyes to travel up his body.

 

I allowed my eyes to linger on his chest, but after noticing there was not much physical evidence of change from what I could see there, I finally looked at his face. He'd replaced his eye patch before he'd interrupted my conversation with Rukia and for the first time I was pleased that I could only view one eye. Trickles of red escaped his mouth, flowing over his chin and down his neck, staining his skin and the material it met. The blood smeared over his teeth and I imagined he'd either bitten his tongue or cheek to induce the transformation.

 

I wasn't certain if his teeth seemed longer, but once again I was reminded of how large and sharp they were. How easily he'd broken the skin of my neck, bruising a large area when he'd bitten me in the fit of anger he'd experienced when he doubted my motives for marrying him. The white and red were startling in their contrast, but it was the eye that I could see that showed what had happened. His mouth stretched wide in a grin without any sign of humour and my stomach sank.

 

The iris had turned red. Not pink, or crimson, or the rusty brown of old blood, but the colour of freshly shed arterial blood. In watching it for a few minutes I noticed him only blink twice and each time was a relief to see that fierce, rage red gaze covered, even briefly.

 

My hand flat on my stomach, I feared the next word, the next action. With his face set, the scar was an oddly blue colour in his face, dissecting his features more strongly than before, showing that the blow had been meant to cleave his skull in two and once more I was led to wonder who had landed that blow. The answer of how he survived was becoming clearer. The bells in his hair jangled instead of tinkling. There were changes that were not just physical, but each new manifestation was an added fear.

 

I searched his face to see if my Zaraki was still there amongst the changes wrought by this hidden aspect of his nature. There were traces there, but the roused beast dominated and at any moment control would break. Once that happened it was impossible to predict the result.

 

“I think we should leave. NOW!” Her voice barely above a whisper Yachiru seemed unable to take her eyes from her Captain. “Slug breath will have to stay, but the rest of us can leave if we do it quickly and quietly. There's nothing we can do for him.”

 

“Why should I stay? You should help me capture that specimen. Think of the things I can learn if I study him” shrilled Kurotsuchi, his eyes glittering with a mixture of greed and fascination. He took a step toward the door but Zaraki was there before him, blocking his way.

 

Shaking my head, I blinked and rubbed my eyes. He had been standing beside me and suddenly he was at the door. Until now I'd never seen him use Shun-po. Not every Shinigami mastered it and I remembered my Captain swearing as he began to learn the technique. Mistakenly he'd tried it in the office and kept colliding with the furniture until he decided to go outside. Of course I wanted to use the opportunity to have a nap while it was quiet, but he'd insisted I follow him and practice. I was still attempting to master the method, but I had improved. Having seen both Yoruichi and Captain Kuchiki use it so skillfully, I'd though that no one would be faster than either of them, but every indication showed that in this state my husband could possibly move even faster.

 

There was something very wrong here and while I felt I had some of the facts that would lead to a solution, I was reluctant to put them all together. Ignoring unpleasant specifics was much easier than trying to deal with the problem and it might go away, given time. All problems went away, eventually.

 

“Ken-chan,” Yachiru's voice held a pleading urgency that made me yearn to help her.

 

“Zaraki,” I said experimentally, unsure of the reaction I'd receive, if any.

 

“We have unfinished business, don't we Kurotsuchi?” The low rumble that emerged from Zaraki's throat was accompanied by blood dribbling from the corners of his mouth.

 

“No! We don't,” the shrill denial didn't surprise me, but it sounded forced. The man again tried to make his way to the door, but Zaraki was again in front of him, blocking his way. The smile on his face had widened significantly.

 

“Years of unfinished business and deferred payments. I'm owed and now I collect,” Zaraki said.

 

“Don't,” Retsu said.

 

“Think man,” Captain Kuchiki urged. He was standing in front of Rukia who was seemed stupefied by this latest development. She was switching her gaze between her brother and Zaraki, almost as though she was preparing to prevent them from fighting, though there was no evidence that they would. “Your wife is here. You don't need to do this now.”

 

“Captain, listen to Captain Kuchiki!” Arai yelled, obviously terrified by this transformation. Yachiru was huddled in his arms, her eyes in larger in her stark white face.

 

“Mayuri?” Nemu seemed unsure what to do.

 

“Beloved,” I croaked around the large lump that was forming in my throat. He'd ignored me. I may as well have not been there, not spoken. Feeling shut out of his notice increased the chill I was already experiencing and I blinked hard, trying to rid my eyes of the sign of weakness that had formed there. Men ignored their wives all the time. There was no point in crying about it.

 

“I won't even use my zanpakuto,” Zaraki's attention remained completely focused on the 12th Division captain.

 

“I've heard of this phenomenon,” Kurotsuchi tried to bluster. “I've wished to study this closely but I wasn't aware that you were one of the beasts. You will present yourself for study once we return to the Seireitei.”

 

The loud laughter that met this demand made me quail. Even without a zanpakuto I didn't rate Kurotsuchi's chances of lasting for more than a minute against the creature that was in the form of my husband. I issued a mental reprimand. That creature was a person and he was my husband. My love for him remained, but despite good intentions it had altered slightly again, with fear added to the love in even larger measures. I was scared because I had not previously encountered this new side to the man I'd married.

 

That wasn't true. I had, very briefly glimpsed part of this unfamiliar aspect but I'd been too preoccupied to notice and then he'd further distracted me. Until now it had been pushed to the back of my mind, but I had partly known it was there.

 

“I don't believe he's listening,” Captain Kuchiki said, rather lightly for the situation.

 

“Help me!” demanded the scientist. “A live Berserker; and one who seems to be able to control the phenomenon would be invaluable.”

 

“And would you kill him to extract the secrets?”

 

I thought at first Retsu had spoken. I didn't recognise the brutal, dry voice and looked around to find everyone was looking at me. I'd asked the question. It was impossible to live in the Seireitei and remain ignorant of the manner in which 12th Division obtained much of its valuable material.

 

Before he could answer, Zaraki had lifted him off the floor. “Don't bother trying to poison me. It won't have any effect,” was the chilling assurance.

 

In spite of that Kurotsuchi tried to draw his blade, but his arms were tight pressed to his sides and he started to gabble: pleas, demands even the occasional prayer and request for friendship.

 

“Time for talk is over. You've always had too much to say,” my husband said and began to compress the body between his hands even further.

 

I didn't want to interfere. The man deserved everything and more that he was experiencing, but a quick glance at Nemu and Yachiru forced me to act. Nemu seemed to be preparing to interfere, with a mixture of terror, disgust and sadness in her expression. Never before had I seen her composure so disturbed even when she bore injuries that would kill a normal Shinigami. Zaraki's lieutenant was hysterically trying to struggle out of Arai's grip and had nearly succeeded. I did not envy the man and it seemed it would only be a matter of seconds before she could put herself in danger.

 

Reluctance to interfere was normal, and in this instance it was suicidal to attempt to come between the two men. Any person who tried to stop Zaraki would be stupid and inviting a painful death.

 

Stupid, rash, arrogant. My brain shrilled all those names at me as I prepared to take action. A sort of misguided honour forced me to act and a desperate need to get as much information about Aizen, his plans and Hueco Mundo. I knew who the traitor in 12th Division was; I knew who had conveyed the information about our marriage to Aizen and the others. The gabble was revealing more than the man's fears. He'd used Nemu to find out many secrets, done his own spying and provided regular updates through some secret device. If my husband killed him now, we might be losing a valuable but double edged weapon. I hesitated.

 

It didn't surprise me that Kurotsuchi was the traitor. Even before I had left the Seireitei I had formed an opinion on the spy's identity and my Captain has agreed with my suggestion. So had Captain Fong. Akon would never have obeyed anyone else when he was tasked with providing weapons to Momo. His loyalty and devotion to his captain were exemplary. It had been easy to identify the other threat; once we stripped away our natural reserve and dislike for believing that another Captain could be capable of betrayal.

 

This time the unmasking of the traitor didn't cut me quite as deeply as last time. I could only feel contempt for the man who had decided that his needs and opinions mattered more than thousands of others, but having been well acquainted with selfish men I knew he'd have some spurious justification for his actions. Possibly he felt he was better than the other captains, or that nothing should interfere with his role as a scientist and the demands of his research.

 

“He deserves to die,” Retsu said quietly. “But this is too quick and clean. He has made others suffer and…” her voice trailed away.

 

To say I was astonished is to underestimate the reaction her words caused in me. It had never been suggested at the 4th Division Captain had even the slightest trace of malice in her psyche. She had often counselled forgiveness and ignoring old wounds and hurts, moving on to a new phase of life uncontaminated by the old. Now she was staring at the man with undisguised loathing. I wondered what in his outpouring of words had triggered this change and knew it would have to be something pretty extraordinary.

 

“And he might know the antidote for a certain condition,” she murmured quietly. I think she didn't know she'd spoken aloud as her normally gentle gaze turned less forgiving. “One, I'm sure he engineered.”

 

“Ken-chan. You said you'd bring back all the traitors,” Yachiru's voice was taut with concern. “People want to see them on trial. They need to see it finalised.”

 

Her words made no impact and then she began to sob, hitting out at Arai, trying to force him to let her go. As her fist made contact I saw him wince and his grip momentarily became looser. That was what made the decision for me.

 

I closed my eyes briefly. This was the last thing I wanted to do, but I felt that the circumstances were beyond my control and I had to take action, to recover my husband and prevent a traitor's death. “It's time,” I thought.

 

It didn't matter that I wasn't prepared for this, could never be prepared to arm myself with my blade and then attempt to fight the strongest warrior in the Seireitei. I didn't have bankai and my zanpakuto's spirit had only recently become more accessible, but she was still flighty and prone to laziness and disobedience, when she wasn't trying to nap. For brief seconds I communed with my blade and then, as a final desperate measure, loosened my shirt, just a little. It was a move I was loath to take, but this was no time to attempt anything without using every possible advantage. As I tidied my hair I tried to emulate the expression that seemed to allure my husband the most.

 

Aware of the danger of the move, I approached my husband from behind and tried to press my body against his. Before I could finish he had spun around, Kurotsuchi between us. The man was panicking even more and had lost control of his bladder. Liquid seeped down his legs and was dripping off the ends of his feet. He was too preoccupied to notice.

 

“What do you want, woman? I'm busy here, but when I've finished with this jackals testicle I'll be ready for you,” the almost unrecognisable voice told me. His eye glanced quickly at my face and returned to staring at the man struggling in had hands.

 

“I challenge you.” The words were out and it actually sounded like I meant them.

 

“Don't!” The harsh cry of Yachiru was lost on me as I stared at my husband.

 

“Huh?” The shock of the challenge made him loosen his grip momentarily, enough for Kurotsuchi to draw in a trembling breath. “No.”

 

For a second I thought I saw his eye clear and his face revert back to the one I loved. His body shuddered and the force of the shudder made the 12th Division Captain's head bounce on his neck. Maybe he was overcoming the creature that dwelt within him. I hope it was so and that I was providing the necessary distraction and reminder to help him. I continued, thinking it was the best way to help.

 

“I challenge you for my right to remain here. I'll fight you to prove I can defend myself against you, or anyone else.” I sounded like I meant it, didn't I? If I could fool myself I might be able to fool him. Then, in an act of complete stupidity, I drew my blade and slashed at him, drawing some blood from his cheek and then ran my finger down my blade, licking it once it was coated with the red substance. I deliberately smeared it over my lips and let it drip onto my breasts as I forced a smile onto my face.

 

“No!” Yachiru screeched, desperation in her voice.

 

“Ran. I think that's a mistake,” Rukia protested and a glance at her showed her shocked and terrified face.

 

“It's too late. The challenge had been issued,” her brother said quietly, but sternly. “The only chance is that he will refuse.”

 

I wasn't listening. All my attention was on my husband who had become extremely still as soon as I cut him. His gaze had been fixed on my face as I tasted his blood and the wave of conflicting emotions I saw sweep over my face was enough to tell me I'd made a major error. The struggle he was experiencing was visible, his eye glowed red and then he shut it, clutching the struggling man between his hands as if he would rend him in two, or as if he was the only thing preventing him from immediately killing me.

 

“Not my choice,” he whispered and then the other Zaraki resurfaced, his cruel and crazed expression, red eye and a renewed effusion of blood spilled from his lips.

 

“Refuse!” yelled my husband. “Refuse the chance to fight the woman who won't obey me, even though she's my wife? You cut me woman and tasted my blood. Now, I'll taste yours; draw it from you it until it flows down my throat.” Then he smiled.

 

Immediately I wished he hadn't done so. I could face his rage, his hatred but the level of calculation and cold I saw in his smile almost made me back away. Until now this side of the man had hidden within his character and he was without fear, friendship or love. My stupid action had done this and now I was facing a nightmare.

 

Arai put down his Lieutenant and prepared to draw his zanpakuto, but Yachiru shook her head. “You can't interfere; not now she's cut him and tasted his blood. If she hadn't done that, it might have been okay.”

 

I was right. When would I start thinking instead of reacting?

 

“He's not a Berserker, not really.” The girl's quavery voice provided no assurance. “Instead of killing quickly, he likes to prolong it and watch his prey die slowly. But he won't give up until the person's dead or he's given another challenge.” There was the sound of a barely suppressed sob. “But she cut him and he won't stop until she's…” The pause made me aware that I was in over my head. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Don't kill her Ken-chan. Please don't kill her.”

 

A single word flashed through my mind. After I repeated it silently a few times, which didn't help, I spoke briefly to Haineko. While I knew I was going to die, I didn't accept it, didn't want to acknowledge that of all the foolish moves I'd made I was preparing to sacrifice my life for a man I hated. Honour demanded too much but I couldn't stop what I had so foolishly commenced, except by fighting.

 

My love and pride had misled me. When was I going to make a good decision?

 

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A.N.

 

Shorter chapter because the next one is already halfway completed.

 

Soundtrack

 

`Nobody's Listening' Linkin Park

`Fear' endorphin

`Wet Stupid' Santos

`Everybody's Fool' Evanescence

 

Thanks to Bastion, ldymoon and Zetsuii for the reviews.

 

Review. I like reviews.