Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Minutes to Midnight ❯ Doomsday Part II ( Chapter 32 )

Title: Doomsday (Part II)

Pairings/Characters: Szayel/Ishida (onesided… perhaps), Ulquiorra/Nel, A bunch of other people

Rating: T

Warning: Violence

Words: 5979

Description: The battle rages on, fiercer and fiercer with every passing moment as both sides suffer heavy losses.

 

 

Licking his lips, Kenpachi slung his zanpakutou over his shoulder, the blade a welcome weight. He could feel the battle lust rising in the air, and the reiatsu was settling so thickly throughout Seireitei that he could feel it rattling in his bones. Stirring his blood.

 

It was a battle. No. War. Outright war. And he swore that it was calling to him.

 

Yachiru, perched on his shoulder, kicked her legs excitedly. And behind him, those who still remained at the eleventh division looked on with eager interest. Kenpachi couldn't figure out what they were waiting for.

 

He glanced over his shoulder, one eye gleaming. “Get 'em, guys,” he ordered. “Show 'em what bein' in the eleventh division really means.”

 

He watched as they whooped and hollered, racing off in whichever direction seemed to call to them. Yumichika was already gone, heading off towards the tenth where it seemed a fierce fight was breaking out.

 

Ikkaku rubbed a hand over his nose, the other dangling over Houzukimaru. “Time ta make some noise,” he agreed with a grin and sprinted away. The twelfth seemed to be his destination.

 

“What about me, Ken-chan?” Yachiru asked with an excited giggle, her elbows digging into the meat of his back. “Who should I fight?”

 

“Whoever ya want, brat,” he responded, already scanning the battleground for his own opponent.

 

In an instant, his lips split into a fanged grin. One of the Arrancar seemed to be hanging back and simply observing, not taking part in the fight. And even Kenpachi could tell that he was no slouch. The old man with the bone for a crown had reiatsu to match Byakuya-hime in his former glory at least.

 

“Hmm,” Kenpachi murmured, fingers stroking his chin and scratching a nail under the strap to his eyepatch. “Bastard looks pretty strong. Think I'll take him.”

 

Yachiru giggled. “Yay!” And lifted her hands in celebration, nearly tumbling from his shoulder in her exuberance.

 

“Oy! Find your own enemy,” Kenpachi chastised with a joggle to his shoulder.

 

She promptly jumped down, eyes sparkling as she considered where she wanted to go. “I should help Frilly-Brows, huh?” Yachiru thought aloud.

 

“Go for it.” Kenpachi grunted. “As for me,” he said and pointed a finger at the figure in the distance, still hovering boredly in the sky. “I'm going for that one.”

 

- - -

 

“Behind you, Ulqui-chan!”

 

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes in a childish manner, Ulquiorra placidly blocked the rather ill-timed blow and efficiently blasted off a cero with his other hand. “Keep your eye on your own opponent, Neliel,” he replied and watched as his attack incinerated several people standing in a row in front of him.

 

Foolish Shinigami.

 

On the edge of his senses, always present whether he liked it or not, he could feel Neliel. She was several feet away from him but within reach of a sonido, and the two of them were surrounded by so many members of the second division that he would have had to wade through them to get to her. Had he the need.

 

Many of the Shinigami already lay dead and dying around them, the unconscious mostly due to Neliel's desire not to take too many lives. The large brute, the vice-captain, kept throwing himself at the fifth Espada as though believing a woman would be easier to defeat. And Ulquiorra, he found himself occasionally crossing blades with the captain herself. The damn female wouldn't stop flitting in and out of battle, trying to catch him in a weak moment.

 

A zanpakutou flashed in the sunlight, and Ulquiorra shifted to block the blow, mentally chastising himself for losing focus during a battle. Even for a moment. He was here to serve as distraction for Aizen-sama and nothing else. He needed to delay these Shinigami as long as possible.

 

Eyes narrowing faintly, Ulquiorra swung out his zanpakutou and cut through two of his opponents. They fell at his feet like cannon fodder, gasping for breath. He barely noticed, pressing forward into the masses of Shinigami. They were regarding him warily now but still foolishly brave.

 

It was pathetic. He wouldn't even need his resurrección at this rate. He wondered if it was even worth it to fight such trash, their reiatsu not even close enough to a threat. The only one that possibly posed a challenge was the captain herself, and still, Ulquiorra was not impressed.

 

His waraji slid across the stone beneath his feet as he blocked two simultaneous attacks and pushed both enemies away with a small surge of his reiatsu. They flew backwards and crashed into a building. It toppled onto them, sending up a flurry of dust and debris. But Ulquiorra hardly noticed, too busy facing his next opponent and sending out another strong cero.

 

Another pair of Shinigami threw themselves at him, and another approached from the rear. He whirled to avoid two of the attacks, kicking out at the third and driving him backwards with a sharp crack of foot on chest. He was satisfied by the feeling of broken bones beneath his kick and Ulquiorra twisted, zanpakutou raised to strike the next Shinigami when burning pain streaked across his left side.

 

He stumbled but completed his blow, managing to slice the head off of his opponent. The second division member flopped to the ground as heat seemed to spread through Ulquiorra's abdomen. He could feel blood seeping from a thin but deep wound, and almost immediately, a sense of queasiness attacked him.

 

Ulquiorra faltered and one of his adversaries saw that as an opportunity; he quickly learned otherwise when a cero blasted off the upper portion of his body. Grunting and keeping the others at bay with lashing tendrils of his reiatsu, the Espada gingerly prodded at his wound, wondering just who had been able to get close enough to strike him. He battled a brief bout with dizziness, and it struck him then that the blade had probably been poisoned.

 

The cowards.

 

“Ulquiorra!”

 

Neliel's voice pierced his senses, and he half-turned to find that she was looking worriedly his direction. She hastily cut down an enemy in her path, and he knew without even having to look again that she was probably trying to work her way towards him.

 

“I am fine,” he called back, dropping his blood-stained fingers away from the injury and shifting to focus back on the enemy. Nearby, he could sense the captain, as though she were just waiting for a moment of weakness to strike.

 

The fifth Espada didn't appear to believe him. “You never admit when you're hurt,” he heard her grumble, even across the distance.

 

Ulquiorra didn't have opportunity to respond, too busy blocking a new flurry of attacks and a flash of kidoh that had been shot his direction. He avoided everything with a quick burst of sonido and nearly gasped as pain shot through his entire body. His legs threatened to turn to jelly beneath him, but Ulquiorra pushed past it, swinging his zanpakutou and driving back the pressing Shinigami. Several more fell to his blade, blood splashing the ground. And still that damn captain watched and waited.

 

He could feel their reiatsu around him, weak and shaky compared to Aizen-sama's but all the sudden more pressing. He wondered if it was a side-effect of the poison because his head was spinning, and he couldn't seem to think straight. Ulquiorra sensed Neliel drawing closer, but there was a strain to her reiatsu that hadn't been there. It was discordant, weak...

 

Eyes widening minutely, he spun his body around, scanning the press of Shinigami for Neliel.

 

“Ul--”

 

Pop!

 

He last saw her pale grey irises full of surprise before her body suddenly disappeared in a small puff of smoke, reverting to her child-like form. Weakened, Neliel vanished within the press of adult-sized Shinigami. He couldn't even see her anymore.

 

Furious, though it didn't show on his face, Ulquiorra summoned the largest cero he could muster and let it loose. Aizen-sama had impressed upon him the need to protect Neliel, after all. He needed to clear a path, and the energy blast was the best way to do so. The press of Shinigami fell back enough that he could half-stumble, half-sonido forward.

 

Until a body barreled into him from the side, sending his somewhat dizzy form crashing into the ground. Ulquiorra felt and heard something within him snap as his head cracked painfully against the solid stone beneath him. Mind spinning and fuzzy, he reacted without thinking and jerked a knee into his attacker. The captain's reiatsu washed over him, heavy and buzzing; it had been her.

 

“Filthy Arrancar,” she hissed above him, dainty feminine face twisted into a furious and hateful scowl. Her hand flashed, suddenly covered in a golden spike that twinkled ominously. Even Ulquiorra could tell that it was her zanpakutou.

 

It was becoming harder to breathe. Even so, Ulquiorra continued to struggle. He shoved an elbow towards her chest, trying to twist his body beneath the woman's weight. She drew back to avoid the blow, hand driving down and slamming into his shoulder. The zanpakutou pierced through his flesh, and he bit back a groan, pain spiking through him. The touch of the blade burned as though it were coated in fire, searing his flesh and sinew.

 

His hand was empty, and Ulquiorra wondered when he had dropped his own zanpakutou. He couldn't remember the last time he had held it. His fingers were even numbing, and he knew that reality had dimmed. He couldn't see anything but Shinigami black and feet and the face of the captain above him, filled with hatred. The poison was making it impossible to focus under the weight of so much combined reiatsu.

 

Where was Neliel?

 

Fingers wrapped around his throat, slamming his head down into the pavement. Stars danced in his vision, swirling in front of the blue sky. He batted at the captain ineffectually, body not wanting to obey his commands. It was like something was burning him from the inside out, a fire spreading through every nerve. Turning it to dust and making motion impossible.

 

Fighting away black spots, Ulquiorra stared into unrelenting, grey eyes. She slammed his head into the ground once more and lifted her free hand again, the one holding her zanpakutou. She spat something else at him, but Ulquiorra's ears were ringing. He didn't know what she had said.

 

Blackness encroached for a moment, and when he peeled his eyes open again, he could just barely make out a head of pale green hair amidst the black-clad legs. He saw the brightness of blood, crimson and stark against the ground. So much blood. He had failed her and Aizen-sama both.

 

The darkness was coming again, following the burning pain. He hardly registered the fingers around his throat anymore, pressing and squeezing. Or the pain of the poison as it attacked his body and crushed his lungs. Turned his blood to ash.

 

He felt the bite of the stinger one last time.

 

`Forgive me.'

 

But Ulquiorra wasn't entirely sure who he meant the apology for.

 

- - -

 

“Ban-- Urk!”

 

Halibel watched as the large fox-creature crumpled, causing the ground to rattle as it met his weight. The seventh division captain hadn't even had time to summon his bankai before she had knocked him unconscious. Which was likely a good thing. Tousen-sama would have been displeased if she had killed him, so Halibel had acted accordingly. The fox-creature would awaken eventually, none the worse for wear except perhaps for a rather pulsing headache.

 

Turning, the second Espada noticed the vice-captain of the seventh - the man with the sunglasses - was still gaping at her. In fact, he hadn't stopped from the moment she had arrived in the seventh division. His glasses were askew on his face, fingers slack around his zanpakutou as he stared. And stared.

 

Sighing to herself and remarking internally that Stark would have found this incredibly amusing, Halibel utilized a quick burst of sonido. She moved so quickly that her body left an afterimage behind, one that still captivated the man.

 

He never even saw the coming. Probably didn't even recognize that her reiatsu had shifted until it was too late. Raising the hilt of her zanpakutou, she struck him across the back of his head. Hard enough to incapacitate but not to kill. Aizen-sama hadn't wanted mass murder, after all. Just a distraction. And his new world couldn't be whole if all the Shinigami were wiped out. This much he had stressed.

 

Halibel watched impassively as the man crumpled, his zanpakutou clattering to the ground. And with the two leaders of the seventh out of commission, it seemed the rest didn't want to test their skills. Not that she needed to disable them as well. With barely a passing glance, Halibel resheathed her zanpakutou and leapt to the roof to get her bearings.

 

Expanding her senses, her eyes narrowed against a whipping wind, she felt out the position of her comrades. Stark's reiatsu was strong and robust, battle-ready but fine. Though he did seem a bit... perturbed for lack of a better word. Ichigo was fighting, having already shifted into bankai it seemed, and was slightly stressed. But she could also see that Stark was approaching the boy's direction. He would be fine then.

 

And what was this?

 

Halibel furrowed her brow, concentrating. He shouldn't be here, and yet, Szayel was near the Quincy. She shouldn't have been surprised. The eighth Espada's obsession - in polite terms - with the new arrival to Hueco Mundo was a subject of much jibing within Las Noches.

 

The wind, stronger here on the rooftop, whipped across her face and sent her hair fluttering; Halibel shifted position so her eyes weren't being battered. Her concentration shifted, expanding her senses further until she could detect Ichimaru-sama. He was fighting two unfamiliar people, one incredibly strong and the other not so far behind.

 

Nearest to him, Neliel and Ulquiorra were taking down the second division. But as her brow furrowed to pin them down, she felt their reiatsu waver. Felt the sudden dissonance in Neliel that usually signified an immediate transformation. And then, their combined power abruptly dropped to nothing. She could feel only the vaguest sense of their presence, and even that was dwindling down to nothing.

 

Rising to her feet, Halibel's eyes narrowed, her destination chosen. She could be there in a few flits of sonido. Glancing over her shoulder and making sure that her two opponents were still unconscious, Halibel started for the second.

 

Tiles crumbled and fell from roofs wherever she landed briefly before shifting into sonido once more. All around her, she could sense the battle strengthening. More reiatsu pressing down on the whole of Seireitei. Dust from destroyed buildings was an ever increasing cloud. And she wondered how much longer it would take for Aizen-sama to activate the key.

 

Halibel leapt from one building to the next, and then, she felt it. A surge of wild and angry reiatsu, strong like a captain, barreling directly towards her at an unanticipated speed. She didn't even have time to look in that direction before a body crashed into hers, slim arms wrapping around her waist in the middle of a sonido and sending the both of them out of the air. They crashed to the ground almost immediately, slamming painfully against the earth.

 

There was a brief moment of struggle where Halibel's head spun, and they slid across the pavement. She smelled blood and didn't think it was her own. No, this copper-scent was splattered across her opponent. And when she finally managed to extricate herself from her attacker, she recognized the captain of the second. Her presence in front of Halibel could only mean one thing. That Ulquiorra and Neliel's fallen reiatsu meant more than just exhaustion.

 

Halibel's eyes narrowed as she reached for her zanpakutou, watching the captain before her draw a battle stance. The two of them didn't speak to each other, the threat obvious enough. And then, the second Espada sprang forward and met the female captain mid-leap.

 

- - -

 

He had never had a stronger sense of déjà vu than he did in this very moment, Ishida remarked to himself. He was bleeding and gasping for breath, fingers tired and aching from drawing so many arrows. The poison wasn't making things any easier at all. He was trapped between Kurotsuchi and Nemu, the former having already summoned his bankai. And again, Ishida Uryuu wondered why he thought this would be a good idea.

 

Squaring his shoulders and peering at the captain, Ishida never lost his focus on Ginrei Koujaku. But he also wasn't certain how much longer he could remain standing. On the edge of his conscious, Nemu's location was a constant spark on his senses. She was the most likely to strike without notice.

 

Kurotsuchi cackled madly and lifted one pale hand into the air. “It's been a while since I have had a live Quincy,” he taunted, crooking his long-nailed finger. “And you seem so much more powerful since the last one. Who knows what other traits Aizen has given you?”

 

The Quincy felt his blood run cold at the reminder of his grandfather and the picture that Kurotsuchi had given of him. His eyes narrowed as he abruptly darted to the side, avoiding another gout of poisonous gas. His senses screamed, and he whipped around, firing a stream of arrows at Nemu approaching from the side. Placidly, the vice-captain leapt out of the way, though she didn't entirely escape. An arrow clipped her arm and sliced deeply into the flesh.

 

“And the girl?” Kurotsuchi continued, bankai stirring restlessly beside him, legs crunching the evidence of the destruction. “Has she considered my generous offer?”

 

Uryuu snarled, skidding to a stop atop a half-toppled wall. “You disgust me, Shinigami.” He sneered.

 

Even that pink-haired freak was desirable compared to this particular mad scientist. He just wanted Kurotsuchi to die and in a hopefully painful manner. Just like the bastard had done to his grandfather and all the others placed within his jurisdiction.

 

The captain's bankai roared, sounding like an overgrown, twittering insect. “The opinion of a mere boy matters nothing to me,” Kurotsuchi dismissed loftily. “Nemu, restrain him.”

 

“Yes, Mayuri-sama,” Nemu replied tonelessly, darting towards Ishida and leaping into the air. One leg drew close to her body, the other aiming a high kick at his head.

 

Sucking in a breath, Ishida twisted out of the way, trying to whirl and draw Ginrei Koujaku in the same movement. Nemu, however, was fast. She landed on one foot, shifted her weight, and immediately attacked again. He had no time to draw the bow or aim it, and Ishida danced backwards, avoiding every quickly executed kick.

 

Annoyed, the Quincy let Ginrei Koujaku fall and reached for something he had acquired from his father's storage. Seele Schneider leapt into his hands, and though he thought it distasteful to use the item as a sword, arrows were useless in close combat. Nemu's blade whistled by his head then, Ishida ducking backwards to avoid it. He swung Seele Schneider upwards, the arrow clanging against her zanpakutou and shoving it to the side.

 

No surprise echoed in the female's face as she quickly adjusted her balanced, spinning into the blow and striking out at him. Her elbow slammed into his shoulder, driving the breath from his body. Ishida gasped and jerked away from Nemu, and his foot turned painfully on a rock, wrenching his ankle. He tumbled to the ground and landed harshly on pieces of a crumpled building. Something ripped through the fabric of his arm, tearing into his skin and stinging harshly.

 

Nemu gave no quarter, no mercy as she lifted her foot, aiming her heel for the soft portion of his stomach. Ishida hurriedly rolled out of the way and scrambled to his feet, scooping up the dropped Seele Schneider. He twisted, whirling and calling up his bow within a half-second. Without even taking time to properly aim, he let loose a stream of arrows in Nemu's general direction.

 

Ishida didn't watch to see if they hit, already leaping up onto a fallen slab of building and using it as a launching pad to the nearest roof. His feet clomped across the shingles, and he expanded his senses, trying to find both Kurotsuchi's and Nemu's position. Within an instant, Ishida dropped into a roll and narrowly avoiding a stream of poison from Kurotsuchi's bankai. Even so, he caught an edge of a whiff of it, and he felt a ferocious burning as it entered his lungs.

 

This definitely hadn't been a good idea. He was only glad that the rest of the twelfth had decided to observe rather than actively participate. Otherwise, he would have lost already, and that fact galled Uryuu. He should have been stronger than this.

 

Coughing uncontrollably, Ishida rolled back to his legs, but they proved wobbly beneath him. His twisted ankle turned again, and he lost his balance, sliding down the slope of the roof. Scrabbling for a hand-hold even as his eyes teared up from the poison, Ishida felt several nails tear as he grabbed onto the edge of an overhang and slowed his descent.

 

Jerking to a halt, legs dangling just over a flatter portion of the roof, he let himself drop. Knees crumpled beneath him gracelessly, but at least, he wasn't heading for the pavement at a painful speed. But almost immediately, Ishida dissolved into a fit of coughing, blood on his lips. His head was spinning from the poison, and one hand clutched at the shingles.

 

As he struggled to place his feet beneath him and rise again, the Quincy suddenly felt a surge of Hollow energy within several feet of him. Whipping around, he was shocked to see Nemu - in the midst of preparing to attack his unguarded back - being blasted away by the force of a cero. Ishida's mouth dropped as he followed the projectile's path; he gaped as he found the eighth Espada sauntering towards him.

 

“Sz...Sza... What the hell are you doing here!?” Ishida demanded incredulously, blinking as though trying to clear away the pink-haired apparition.

 

The eighth Espada dropped down beside him, making it look almost elegant. “Mah, Uryuu-kun. Aizen-sama said I could tag along if I so desired. And desire I did.” He smiled brightly, and Ishida almost swore he could see sparkles floating around the Arrancar's head. Just like that feathered fruit from the eleventh division. “And you look so happy to see me.”

 

Yeah, if completely dumbfound meant happiness. Sure, Ishida was ecstatic. And in a lot of pain. He coughed then, the taste of blood still on his tongue.

 

In the background, Szayel's sudden appearance hadn't just surprised Ishida. Kurotsuchi's mouth had flapped in shock before his lips split into an eerie grin, fully exposing his large and yellow teeth.

 

“A live Arrancar!” he squeaked in terrible glee. “And an Espada at that! Fortune shines upon me. Change of plans, Nemu!”

 

A moment of silence passed where there was no response to Kurotsuchi's command. Eyes narrowing, he scanned the battleground for his subordinate, only to snort when he noticed her unconscious form sprawled over the battered ground. Her shihakushou was still faintly smoking, though she was very much alive.

 

Kurotsuchi snorted. “Pity. I should have made her more resilient.”

 

At the sound of that callous comment, Ishida abandoned his shock. He whirled towards Kurotsuchi, sending some shingles to the ground. A righteous anger began to take form, reminding him of his hatred for this Shinigami. To be so dismissive of his own subordinates, it was beyond too cruel. And he was reminded of watching the crazed scientists blow up his assistants, Shinigami who hadn't even known they were part of his experiment. It made Ishida sick.

 

Beside him, Szayel sniffed. “Shoddy engineering from an inferior mind,” he commented dismissively, barely sparing the man a glance. “Urahara-sama was right about you, it seems.”

 

Ishida blinked as Szayel's comment had the desired effect. The captain puffed off, the insult a personal affront to his intelligence and scientific mind. And it soon became clear that the banter between them would amount to a cat fight in the end as they snarked at each other, insulting without making it that obvious.

 

They were completely distracted, inviting Ishida to form a plan. He hauled himself to his feet, despite the weakness in his lungs, and crept around the edge of Kurotsuchi's awareness. It was time for him to utilize his strongest attack.

 

Snick. The first Seele Schneider slid into place.

 

“That man knows nothing,” Kurotsuchi denied, making a dismissive gesture. “Genius in name only. But of course, even he is superior to you, Arrancar. A mere facsimile.”

 

Snick. The second found its mark.

 

“Better an autotype than a rudimentary original,” Szayel returned evenly, his voice cold and disdainful. “I've at least had the dignity to remove my mask,” he added with a pointed and disgusted glance at the face make-up and adornments decorating Kurotsuchi's head.

 

Ishida crouched to set the third point, Seele Schneider vibrating faintly in his grasp, when something massive suddenly crashed into him. Striking him full against the side and knocking him straight into the air. What little breath he had cultivated was pushed out of his body, overwhelming him with a greater dose of the poison. His vision blanked out for several long moments as his body flew. Only to crash down to earth and land on a building, forcing it to crumple inwards.

 

Pain exploded through the Quincy's senses, and he was coughing and trying to breathe at the same time. Every intake was a harsh, blazing inhalation. And his fingers had gone numb as his body twitched under the effect of the poison.

 

“You forget, child, I know all your Quincy strategies,” Kurotsuchi mocked from outside the building that trapped Ishida. “That will never work on me.”

 

Groaning, Uryuu stirred, entire body aching. The smell of blood was stronger on the air now, and he faintly realized that he was bleeding. His head, his elbow, a fierce gash on his leg that would ensure he walked with a limp for some time.

 

The feeling of a Hollow's presence suddenly became stronger, almost stifling. It was filled with hunger and anger, a burning fury that wouldn't be easily quenched. Szayel was more than a little annoyed; he was furious, reiatsu climbing steadily as a result. And somewhere, beneath the press of his rising power, Nemu slowly woke up.

 

Through great effort that would have made Kurosaki proud, Ishida hauled himself to his feet, ignoring the pain and the injuries. He stumbled out to the street, a bit bleary-eyed but thankfully conscious. On the corner of his vision, he noticed Nemu had also lurched to her feet and was preparing to launch herself at Szayel.

 

Strangely enough, Ishida reacted without truly thinking. Ginrei Koujaku flared to life in his fingers, the warmth of his bow chasing away some of the numbness. And he fired an arrow, perfect aim as always soaring into Nemu's right shoulder. The force of it was enough to drive her several steps back, pinning her to a wall. The stone cracked and rumbled but didn't fall as she reached up, attempting to grasp the projectile. It burned at her touch, however, reiatsu crackling along her fingertips. But Ishida knew it wouldn't hold her for too long. She would soon find a way to be free. He had to do something to incapacitate her completely. Without killing her.

 

In the background, he felt Szayel's reiatsu surge as he hissed something angry and biting. With a gesture, his power suddenly exploded as he slipped into resurrección, the ostentatious form of Fornicaras. An all too familiar figure. Kurotsuchi would be distracted for the time being as he practically salivated over getting to see the Espada's release.

 

Ishida picked his way across the ground, limping on his twisted ankle. But with his other leg injured too, it evened out somewhat. Nemu was still struggling as he approached, trying to force her body off the impaling arrow. Ishida knew that she would never stop until she had completed her task or had died herself. He briefly wondered if she were programmed to be like that before dismissing the sobering thought. He couldn't simply knock her out; she would heal herself quickly and rise again. And Uryuu owed her a debt.

 

He couldn't kill her, but he could put an end to this. It might very well destroy her, since he was uncertain of her true composition, but there was nothing else the Quincy could think to do. The risk would have to be taken.

 

Drawing a second arrow and glad that their close proximity would help prevent him from missing, he aimed it directly at Nemu's chest. She looked at him, no ounce of begging in her gaze, and he could have sworn she was relieved. She said nothing as he released the arrow. It directly struck her soukatsui. Severing her Shinigami abilities.

 

Her gaze met his for all of a moment, understanding glinting in her bright eyes before they shuttered closed, and she slipped into unconsciousness. Ishida lifted his senses and was relieved to find that it hadn't killed her. Just drained her of all energy. Sighing in relief, he reached for the arrows and pulled them out, letting her unconscious form slump to the ground. She would no longer pose a threat.

 

Behind him, there was a sudden rumble as Szayel and Kurotsuchi clashed, large insect meeting the extending tendrils of the Espada's wings. Ishida had no time to be wallowing in relief; there was still a battle to be fought. Squaring his jaw, the Quincy forced his aching body closer to the fight, wanting a better place for aiming.

 

There was going to be no conversation this time. No more threats. He just wanted Kurotsuchi dead without any preamble. Without any reminders of what he had done. And Nemu had provided him the means over a year ago, inadvertently letting it slip just how he could take the bastard down. And Ishida meant to capitalize on that information.

 

Finding a good position, Ishida ignored the piercing pain of his shoulder and summoned Ginrei Koujaku. He drew an arrow and let the power flare over him as he aimed for Kurotsuchi's head. It was the only weak spot, the only place to truly kill him. He watched as Szayel's wings clashed with the large bankai. As Kurotsuchi's mocking laughter spilled through the area. As the poison seeped from the pores of his release form.

 

He felt nothing, absolutely nothing, as his fingers gently relinquished the arrow. He watched as the electric blue projectile soared through the sky, true to its course. It was a strangely apathetic Ishida who watched as the arrow struck the captain straight through the head, a perfect shot.

 

Kurotsuchi's neck swiveled Ishida's direction. Staring hatefully his way as his body abruptly froze up, as though locked with a binding kidoh. His entire form began to swell and ballooned out in several places until it abruptly exploded into a splatter of gore - oddly fluorescent-colored - that gradually began to dissolve. Ash filled the air, catching on the lingering winds from a brutal attack and floating away. Leaving only the purple bouffant that had surrounded his head behind, which clattered to the pavement.

 

Rising to his feet, Ginrei Koujaku still sizzling in his hand, the Quincy felt vaguely apathetic. A wind stirred as the other twelfth division members collectively gasped at their captain's fate, eyes practically staring Uryuu down. And as for Ishida himself, he only felt tired and bloody and worn, body in incredible pain from numerous wounds. But he had finally done it. Had avenged his grandfather's death.

 

Out of nowhere, something suddenly grabbed Ishida from the side, swinging him around. He dropped his bow in his surprise, Ginrei Koujaku dissolving away, as he was pressed to a hard and masculine body. Before Ishida could even identify the perpetrator, a mouth covered his, despite the blood that still dotted his lips. Hands were cupping his face, and he felt the faint presence of long nails. Uryuu was floored, completely stunned, and didn't even think to fight back.

 

Though his eyes were open, he didn't know who it was because his glasses were fogging up. But once they cleared, his eyes widened at the familiar pink that filled his vision. The eighth Espada, Szayel Aporro Grantz himself, was kissing him. Actually kissing him without so much as a hint of intention. Or permission for that matter.

 

After several moments where Ishida's brain refused to fire on all cylinders or even any, Szayel granted him a minute of respite and pulled away. Ishida blinked, opening his mouth to object, but Szayel was not to be deterred. He cut off the protest with the addition of a tongue, a surprisingly skilled tongue, and Ishida's mind went absolutely white. He hated that all he could think at that moment was that the Arrancar was actually a good kisser. And that he tasted of oranges.

 

When the kiss finally ended, Ishida was in a daze, wishing he had something more coherent to say or do than to blink stupidly. Szayel looked very pleased with himself as he dropped his hands and chose that moment to seal his release, reverting to his more human appearance. Ever the vain bastard.

 

Wait... vain.

 

Ishida suddenly remembered that they had an audience. The whole of the twelfth was still watching them, gaping at the state of their commanding officers. Ishida's face burned, and he coughed to hide his embarrassment and shifted to look at them rather than at Szayel. Anywhere but at the pink-haired... person.

 

In turn, the twelfth let their gazes bounce between Ishida and the eighth Espada. Then and in perfect synchronization, they turned to one of their own, a man with horns on his forehead. He blinked for all of a second, realizing that his comrades were counting on him to make the decision, before spreading his hands in front of his body.

 

“We surrender,” the man said, his voice rather deep.

 

Another stumbled forward, nearly tripping on some debris. “Please, don't kill us,” this Shinigami put in timidly from beside the horned guy.

 

Ishida honestly couldn't tell if the smaller officer was female or male.

 

Flicking his fingers through his hair, Szayel grinned and abruptly grabbed Ishida, dragging the Quincy in for another swift, breath-stealing kiss. It lasted too quickly for Ishida to even bother protesting.

 

“Come, Uryuu,” he said, grabbing his hand and abruptly beginning to drag him away. “Back to my lab. We'll get you fixed in no time.”

 

Blinking, the Quincy realized that he should probably be putting up far more of an objection rather than allowing Szayel to drag him around however he wished. The high blush that stained his cheeks was something he would rather do without, too.

 

He stumbled along after the eighth Espada, cursing every ache and pain in his body. Every bleeding wound and possibly twisted ankle. But at least, the Arrancar wasn't carrying him.

 

And it was in that moment that Szayel's words seemed to pierce the fog within his brain.

 

“Wait... lab?”

 

- - - - -