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Fanfiction || Treading Icy Waters 21
Title: Treading Icy Waters
Fandom: Bleach
Main Character: Hitsugaya Toushirou
Rating: PG-13
Genre: General/Action/Suspense
Warnings: Occasional language, violence, gore.
Timeline: This story follows the manga's timeline. It begins directly before the Hueco Mundo arc and diverges from there.
Summary: The board has been laid out. The pieces have been set and moved. The pawns are scattered across the floor, and Ichimaru’s fingers are wrapped around a stark white bishop. “That’s another check, little taichou.” The game has only begun.
Author's Note: Hitsugaya is not in this chapter. He’s mentioned, but he doesn’t make an appearance. This chapter was an experiment for me. I tried to flesh out a few characters that I’ve neglected or that I feel Kubo’s neglected, and I tried to write from points of view I’ve never written before.
~*~
“Let him who desires peace prepare for war.”
-Flavius Vegetius Renatus
~*~
Chapter Twenty-One
Like a Worm from a Bird
~*~
“Looks like Buitre’s at it again. Why am I not surprised he was the first to engage?”
“I know, really. He never ceases to amaze me. All of that complaining, and yet he still goes after the weakest targets around. A vulture to the bitter end, I guess?”
“Aw, give him some credit. If you were that ugly, you’d complain too.”
“Hahah! You’re right, you’re right. I guess we should just ignore him and count our blessings.”
Kurosaki Ichigo watched, body rigid and Zangetsu already in hand, as two figures approached, cutting them off in their dash to Toushirou. He felt Rukia take a step back beside him, and he could hear Tatsuki and Orihime breathing hard behind him on the other side. They’d been about to go find Karin when the former taichou had let loose his reiatsu, and Ichigo was fairly sure that he wasn’t supposed to be doing anything of the sort. Not one step later, these two had shown up, striding toward them as nonchalant as could be, conversing like two old girl friends as they let their spiritual pressure overwhelm their victims.
The closer they came, the more obvious it was that they were definitely not friendly, opposites in every way save for their equally feminine appearances and their fatally amused expressions. One sported a long, waist-length braid of pale sea green, held together at the back of her head by four bony spikes. Red eyes peered playfully from behind long bangs, and slender arms rested their elbows against the hilts of two wakizashi, one at each side, as she stood feet spread out in an assertive stance. The other’s dark face was half obscured by long, straight, indigo tresses that reached to the smalls of her back, the only visible black iris looking at those spread out before her as if they were nothing but diseased sewer rats. Around that eye was a bony triangle, rounding her eyebrow and down the curves of her cheek. Her stark white uniform could only be described as a formfitting Chinese dress, the long slit up her right leg revealing the hole in her thigh and emphasizing the sword at her waist.
“Well, if we’re counting blessings,” the darker one smirked, “that’s one, two, three…” A pause as her finger pointed to Ichigo. “Three and a half blessings, right here in front of us.”
“I don’t know what you’re after,” Ichigo’s eyes widened as Rukia weaseled her way into the conversation, sounding much braver than she looked, “but you won’t find it here. Leave Karakura, or we will destroy you.”
“Ooh! Check it out! The little shinigami one is pretty feisty. Just my type,” purred the braided one with a suggestive wink.
And Ichigo’s mind instantly ground to a halt. “Wait,” he leaned toward Rukia. “Is she … coming on to you?”
The arrancar in the China dress burst out laughing as the other glared down at their pray in a mixture of disgust and insult. Rukia pounded him upside the head, and it wasn’t until his eyes trailed grudgingly to the creature’s chest, just below the signature hollow hole, that he realized the braided one was actually male. Huh. Who’da thunk it? Yumichika would’ve had a field day with him.
“Aw, don’t take him so seriously. You should consider it a compliment. Men have always been the slower, stupider sex,” the woman said helpfully. But the other arrancar wasn’t hearing it.
“Oh, no. Nuh-uh. I don’t care how stupid he is. I am not a girl, dammit, and now I have to prove that to him in many very painful ways.”
“Yeah, that’s an attractive mental image,” the woman grunted sarcastically, but by this time no one was listening to her.
“Oi, you! Strawberry! The name’s Pavo Real. She’s Cuervo. What’s your name?” called the braided one.
“Kurosaki Ichigo. I’m a substitute shinigami.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard of you. How about your harem girls?”
Ichigo blushed beet red, as did the three girls.
“H-How dare you?!” growled Rukia, calling on whatever inner power source it was that kept her constantly energized and alert. “I am Kuchiki Rukia, member of the noble Kuchiki clan, and if you dare taint that name with such insults again, I’ll-!”
A hand clamped itself over her mouth as dark eyes glared firmly at their enemies. “Arisawa Tatsuki and Inoue Orihime. What do you care?”
“I didn’t hear a Rangiku in there, did you?”
“Not at all,” Cuervo grinned in anticipation.
“Glorious. I’ll be taking the strawberry and his whipped cream,” he offered them a feral smirk as he removed both wakizashi from their sheaths.
“Then I’ll take his two mistresses,” she acquiesced, pawing her own weapon fondly.
All four bodies on the ground tensed. Ichigo’s eye traveled carefully to Tatsuki. She had seen an arrancar only once, and it hadn’t ended well at all. He would have expected her to be the most hesitant, even considering her personality, but somehow it seemed like she was the sharpest of all of them, clenching her hands into fists as she stared the enemy down, ready for anything. Where had that come from? But he had no time to dwell on that question. The resurrección releases were uttered simultaneously.
“Brille, Musa Vana,” Pavo Real commanded, his tone deadly.
“Engañe, Amante Oscura,” Cuervo intoned, equally malicious.
And even before their transformations were complete, they were already charging.
~*~
“Al Kon?”
“No! You bloomin’ idjit! ‘Alcón, ‘Alcón! ‘Alcón de los Raptores! Don’ patronize me, ya bloody tomato!”
“I’m not patronizing anybody, damn foreigner!” Abarai Renji grunted in frustration.
“Halcón.” Both Renji and their guest turned to Chad, surprised that he’d actually spoken. Thus far, he’d kept his distance from the two obnoxious arguers. “Halcón de los Raptores. It means Falcon of the Birds of Prey.”
“Finally! I was beginnin’ to wonder if everyone ‘ere was bloody brainless!”
“Oi! If your name’s Falcon, why didn’t you just say so in the first place?!”
“‘Cos my name’s not Falcon! It’s ‘Alcón!”
And Sado Yasutora indulged in his second sigh since the arrancar had decided to interrupt their patrol.
The arrancar himself seemed fairly typical, save for his obnoxious foreign accent. Chad didn’t pretend to be an expert on the subject, but after having returned from Hueco Mundo, he could safely say Halcón would have fit in nicely. A quick once-over had provided the burly high school student with the basics. Windswept mahogany hair misplaced by a white, wing-like protrusion over his left ear; gold, almond-shaped eyes; just muscular enough to outgrow the term slender but still far from bulky; robed in loose, white fabric with no sleeves, revealing the hole at his shoulder blade; and a katana at his side.
“Shut up, ya bloody ‘orse turd! I’ve ‘ad enough o’ your lookin’ down on me!”
Right. Typical.
“Bring it on, you lousy tourist!”
So he did.
“Fine by me,” Halcón growled, yanking the blade from its sheath. “We’re s’posed ta be quick anyways. Déspiertete, Jinete del Viento.”
The hollow transformation was a sight to behold. Brown hair became brown feathers, gold eyes became hawk-like hollow eyes, bare feet became talons, the protrusion over his ear became a white, bony wing as another sprouted on the other side, and the sword melded into a chain scythe. Chad admired it for a moment, but a moment was all he had.
When Halcón said “quick,” he meant it.
The next thing Chad knew, Renji was shouting his bankai release at the top of his lungs, and a speeding, brown blur collided with the bony snake’s open mouth. Through the upturning dust, a glint of metal caught his eye, and suddenly Renji was flying backward, Hihiou Zabimaru and all, the arrancar standing where the mouth used to be, unscathed as he yanked the chain scythe back into his outstretched talons. All before Sado Yasutora could even blink an eye.
Then the hollow eyes turned on him. “One down, one ta go. You gonna fight too, big guy? I don’t ‘ave anythin’ against ya personally, but if ya don’t, I’m just gonna move on ta the next guy.”
Chad’s gaze moved in the direction Renji had flown. He had seen blood in the instant the attack hit, and there was no apparent movement from the long, segmented bankai. With that in mind, he simply turned back to Halcón and silently answered by donning his armored arms. A devil and a giant. Surely between the two, they could catch a bird. Or at least stall it.
Halcón eyed the arms critically for a moment before he shrugged, feathers ruffling at the fluid motion. “Suit yaself. Catch me if ya can.”
And then he was gone from sight. Insane speeds and a long range weapon. An odd combination, but a surprisingly effective one. There was only one way Chad could think to counter it. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but he only had about a second to think anyway, so when Halcón reappeared right in front of him, just as he’d done with Renji, he acted on instinct.
Talons coming in to tear at his gut, and a quick block with his left. A blunt hit with the handle on the other end of the chain right into his shoulder. No block that time. His left wasn’t fast enough, and he couldn’t afford to use his right arm yet. Wait for it. Wait for it. Another set of talons, another block with the left. Then came the blade.
Finally.
Brazo Derecho de Gigante flew with practiced speed and precision to block the wayward scythe. Impact. Chad ground his teeth in pain when the curved blade did not bounce off of the large, black shield, instead embedding itself deep into the mouth-like design. He saw a smirk grace the arrancar’s lips as Halcón readied himself to retract the weapon, and then he saw it fade when he reached out to grab the chain with his left arm, wrapping it around the appendage and yanking hard.
It was either let go of the chain scythe or drag Chad right along with it. Halcón hesitated for just a second, debating on whether he really wanted to try and separate the large Mexican boy from the scythe. A second was more than Chad could have asked for. Brazo Izquierda del Diablo, chain and all, shot forward to the trapped arrancar, and two words escaped from Chad’s lips.
“La Muerte.”
It was impossible to miss from this close range. Halcón’s eyes widened in shock as he flew back from the devastating hit and … right into Hihiou Zabimaru. His back slammed into the bony white of the snake-like head, and the large bankai proceeded to bash the arrancar deep into the ground below.
“Tsk,” Renji grunted from within the segmented coils. A steady flow of blood dripped down from a cut above his left eye, and his fur cowl was stained a deep red from a large wound just below his shoulder. But all in all he was still in full form. “So how long did you know I was alright?”
“From the beginning,” came Chad’s simple reply, and Renji laughed.
Halcón was slowly getting back to his feet now. No more pointless arguments; no more chances to run. Those eyes told the world he was dead serious now. Chad tensed, ignoring the pain he still felt in his arm.
“C’mon. Let’s show this bastard just how much of a mistake he made by coming here,” the redhead growled. “Remember what we went over in training?”
Sado Yasutora nodded, and Renji offered him a dangerous smirk.
“Yeah. We’re gonna do it exactly like that.”
~*~
“Okay, let me get this straight,” said Asano Keigo calmly.
Kojima Mizuiro only nodded, leaning against the brick wall behind them and breathing heavily.
“I felt something weird and stepped outside to check it out. The same thing happened to you. We met up, and then some crazy weirdo kid came out of nowhere. I told him to go back to bed, and he bit my finger.” He held up the abused protrusion for emphasis. “Then, he said something about us making great target practice, shouted some weird thing to his big, scary sword, and went on a homicidal rampage. Is that right?”
Again, Kojima Mizuiro only nodded. He didn’t have the air for a reply, though somehow he wasn’t surprised that Keigo did.
“Then why the hell haven’t I woken up yet?!”
That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? Before this mess began, he’d been on a date. A date. With a drop dead gorgeous woman and her sister, he added ruefully. Everything had been fine; everything had been just as it always had.
And then… this.
What Urahara had shown them was nothing compared to this. They weren’t ready for this nonsense. He’d been on a date an hour ago. Realizing that he could see ghosts, learning that Keigo and Tatsuki could too, getting to know Hitsugaya-san and eventually Rukia and Renji, training with Urahara… All of it paled in comparison with what they were experiencing now. They were being chased by a damn kid as small as Hitsugaya who apparently wanted nothing more than to flatten them against the pavement. And he’d just been on a date.
He couldn’t remember ever seeing Keigo even this serious. And in all honesty, he couldn’t remember ever being this serious himself.
“Ne, ne. You forgot the part where the ‘crazy weirdo kid’ and his ‘big, scary sword’ cast his invincible spell and became your worst nightmare.”
Both Mizuiro and Keigo whirled around at the familiar voice, staring at the boy before them. Or, at least, what used to be a boy. Mizuiro recalled the moment all too well. “Suene,” the kid had said. “Suene, Príncipe de la Paz.” That was all it had taken. Short, blonde hair had morphed into platinum feathers. Grey eyes had been surrounded by black nothingness. Talons grew right out of his wrists. Two small, white nubs on each side of his neck sprouted two white wings. And his simple katana had become a giant telephone pole with razor sharp scythe-teeth all along it.
It was a wonder that the two of them were still breathing.
“The name’s Paloma, in case you were interested,” the monster drawled lightly, swinging the pole-of-death as if it were as light as a feather. “If you don’t wanna die, you should probably fight back, ne? If you don’t, this won’t be any fun.”
The two reluctant high school students turned to each other, the strangely mutual acknowledgement not bypassing either’s attention. Keigo instantly began shaking his head, arms flailing in every direction. “Oh, no! No way! I am not gonna be a part of this! I’m running and running ‘til I can’t run no more!” But Mizuiro was not going to give up without a fight. The crazy kid was obviously going to keep chasing them if they ran again. He wasn’t going to go down running when everyone else was out there was doing something to help.
He was gonna live, damn it! He was going to date that drop dead gorgeous woman one more time, and then he was going to date her sister one more time, and then, when he had no regrets, he could die. But not now!
Not after he told Hitsugaya-san not to worry.
He grabbed the other boy’s collar, keeping him from running and pulling him close. With the same boyish innocence he used to warp everyone else in the world, he smiled down at Keigo and began one of the hardest tasks he’d ever taken upon himself: convince Asano Keigo to do something that even he didn’t want to do. “Aw, c’mon. I can’t do it alone. And you know chicks dig the hero types. Don’t you want as many girls as Ichigo?”
“Th-Th-That’s not fair!” the other boy squirmed. “Your devil charms won’t work on me!”
“How about this then?” Asano Keigo instantly stopped struggling when Mizuiro held out his palm, and three red-orange balls of light began floating above it. Keigo would know what they meant. Urahara and Shihouin had been running them around over a week, after all. Keigo and Mizuiro had both seen each other’s budding abilities, and Mizuiro was already attempting to pull a strategy together in his mind. The innocent smile made a magnificent come-back. “If you don’t want to cooperate, I can just throw you at him with a couple of these, and all of my problems will be solved.”
A pause as the other boy eyed the floating spheres of light. “...Fine. But if I die, I’m going to haunt you for all eternity. And I’ll never shut up.”
Mizuiro’s smile widened. Oh, so he knew he was annoying. That would make things a great deal easier.
After Mizuiro whispered hasty instructions into his friend’s ear, they stood up and faced the boy once more. He was leaning against the wall and yawning loudly, but when he saw them turn around, he stood up too. “Ne, are you done being boring yet?”
“I am not boring!” Keigo whined in return. “It’s just that no one understands my true potential! It’s always about ‘Ooh! Ichigo’s got a girl living in his closet!’ or ‘Ooh! Mizuiro’s gonna ditch us ‘cause he has another girlfriend!’ I’ve got redeeming qualities too, dammit!”
“You’re loud. And funny,” the child arrancar smirked. “You die first.”
And Keigo’s eyes bulged as the giant, scythe-toothed club came right down on them. Mizuiro ducked, rolled, and disappeared. Keigo, on the other hand, had to try something a little less discreet and a lot more distracting. Closing his eyes tight, as if anticipating a punch to the face, he lifted up his hands. They glowed a deep red, and then came the impact.
His teeth ground painfully together as he felt the cement beneath him crack and give way, pushing him several inches into the ground. But even if the rest of his body was feeling the pressure, his arms held strong, the top of his head only inches away from the deadly teeth. He took in all the oxygen he could as quickly as he could as he watched Paloma’s eyes widen in surprise. The smallest of cocky smiles reached his panting lips. “Right back atcha, brat.”
With one last deep breath, Keigo pooled together as much reiatsu as he could, and his glowing red hands changed color to a royal blue. The effect was an unexpected shockwave that blew the giant, spiked pole back into the arrancar’s face. His feet screeched against the pavement as he skidded backward, slamming into the brick wall with a thud. But before he could pick himself back up, Mizuiro came out of nowhere, the same three balls of light in his hand. He ran right up to the monster and slammed his hands, palm out, into his stomach.
A cock of his head and a cheery smile.
And then the child arrancar’s abdomen blew up.
He burst right through the brick barrier and out of sight, leaving the large weapon and a trail of blood in his wake.
For a moment, all Mizuiro or Keigo could do was stare at the mess they’d made, shock keeping them from fully understanding what had just happened. They turned to look at each other, breathing hard and barely standing after the energy they’d exerted. Naturally, Keigo was the first to break the silence.
“Hahaah!” he shouted, just to get rid of some of the excess adrenaline. “Did you see that?! I rock!” He threw up his hands in ecstasy as two small women, one red and one blue, appeared above his shoulders.
“He’s so cute when he gets this way,” red swooned.
“Yeah, but we’re the ones who did all the work,” tsked blue.
And once again, Kojima Mizuiro only nodded.
For a moment, all was right in the world again. At least until the ominous shadow fell over them, and they looked up just in time to see a bright blue arrow careen across their vision and disrupt the aim of their enemy’s club just before it turned them to mush.
“Generally, people wait until after they’ve won to celebrate,” scolded the familiar voice of Ishida Uryuu, his eye on the child-like arrancar as he clutched his wounded stomach. “If you have any intention of living, I suggest you follow my lead.”
And so they did.
~*~
She couldn’t see Ichigo or Rukia anywhere. Damn it. Tatsuki tightened her grip on Orihime’s wrist as they ran, trying to piece together what the hell was happening. She only knew one thing for sure, and that was that this Cuervo woman was an arrancar. She was like those monsters that Toushirou had described; she was like that bloated bastard that had had her on the ground without so much as a bat of an eye such a short time ago.
And she’d be damned if she was going to let that happen to Orihime! Those arrancar bastards had taken her once; there was no way they were doing it again.
But that insane woman proved every bit as much of a challenge as Tatsuki had thought she’d be. From the feathered, purple-black mane to the sharp, black talons and ebony wings to the friggin’ two-bladed scythe. She’d charged, she’d swung that stupid scythe around, she’d separated them from Ichigo and Rukia, and then… And then she’d done something.
She’d done something to Orihime.
Tatsuki bit her lip as she went in for a sharp turn into an alley way, dragging the other girl behind her. She almost looked normal running like this, almost looked like nothing had happened. But all Tatsuki had to do was look into those wide, empty, black eyes and see the constantly moving and yet silent mouth to know Orihime wasn’t there anymore.
But she wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. She just needed to beat this Cuervo bitch into the ground, and then Orihime would be fine. She knew it. The only problem was how to go about doing that.
The young karate student wracked her brain to come up with something, anything that would give her the upper hand but when the arrancar strode confidently into the alley, she changed her mind. Arisawa Tatsuki hadn’t ranked second in that vale tudo championship by trying to duck and dodge and plan longwinded strategies. Oh no. She’d ranked that high because she knew when to charge right in and when to play dirty.
Both were sounding pretty damn nice right about now.
“You’re only doing her more harm than good,” the woman arrancar smirked sadistically, pointing as Orihime slumped to the floor, mouth still running a mile a minute with no result. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s kind of adorable, really.”
“What did you do to her?” Tatsuki seethed, slowly, carefully, letting go of Orihime and maneuvering her hand behind her back.
“Oh, nothing much,” she shrugged tauntingly, stepping closer every second. “She’s just dreaming. It’s so relaxing, to take a break from reality every once in a while.”
Orihime looked anything but relaxed, and that only fueled Tatsuki’s anger. No more stalling. A brilliant, white light shown throughout the alleyway, blinding the arrancar just enough for Tatsuki to leap forward, pulling her hand back for a raging punch. And as the marble-like sphere of solidified reiatsu came crashing down, an image of Toushirou looking up into the sky, just like she herself had done so many times while Orihime had been trapped in Hueco Mundo, came to the forefront of her mind. For just a second, time seemed to stop. But that second was all she needed to make her decision, and time rushed forward as the punch hit its mark, sending the arrancar and most of the alleyway a foot into the ground.
“That one was from Taichou,” she spat into the flying debris, rolling her shoulder to loosen it up. “Nothing personal. But you bastards just don’t know when to quit, so this next one…” Another shining light as she molded her reiatsu into a physical form, this time a larger, razor sharp cone. “This next one’s from me.”
She could make out Cuervo’s outline in the settling dust, her scythe at the ready, and she was in no mood to wait until she could see more. Charging again, she ducked into the crater and aimed for the cruel arrancar’s stomach. And when the woman moved to block, she didn’t hesitate to plow right into her knee cap instead.
The arrancar let lose a blood-curdling shriek as her eyes widened in pain, though she remained upright despite all of the pressure Tatsuki had poured into the hit. The reiatsu cone disappeared from her knee cap, and blood flowed unrepentant from the now gaping hole. This time however, the arrancar knew what she was up against, and before Tatsuki could escape into the debris, she grabbed her by an unruly lock of hair.
“You little bitch!” the woman arrancar screamed as she yanked Tatsuki into the air, reveling in her obvious pain and shoving her head right up to the side of the curved scythe blades. “Let’s see how you like it!”
The moment Tatsuki saw her reflection in the metal, everything changed. The world seemed to pull a one-eighty and rotate the opposite direction around her; oxygen was carbon dioxide, and carbon dioxide was oxygen; colors intermingled into a giant mass; and there was a gaping hole in her knee cap.
Pain hit her from every side as she stared disbelieving at the bloody limb. It was too much, too much pain dammit, and she collapsed to the ground, unable to hold herself up. She was losing blood so fast, pooling around her on the cold, hard ground. It was so damn cold, and it hurt, and she was going to die here.
She was going to die.
She couldn’t save Orihime. She couldn’t help Toushirou. She couldn’t even breathe. And it was cold, and it hurt, and … and … it was slimy?
“Miss me, Tat-chan?”
The world’s rotation righted itself, and Arisawa Tatsuki was lying on the ground, her knee intact. She was covered in something wet and gooey, and standing above her, zanpakutou locked with the arrancar’s scythe, was Urahara Kisuke.
“Don’t call me that, baka-jii!”
And completely ignoring the hysteric arrancar trying in vain to cut him down, he grinned at her before throwing a red, yoyo-like object down for her to catch. “Nice to have you back. Now be a good girl and toss that over to Inoue so that your real training can begin, ne, Tat-chan?
Wearily sitting up, she eyed the skull and crossbones painted on each side. “What’s in it?”
Without missing a beat, he answered frankly, “I had Nel puke into them a few days back. You never know when it’ll come in handy.”
Something in the back of her mind made the very disturbing connection that the stuff she was coated in was likely from the same source, but she filed the thought away in her mental “just don’t ask, seriously” cabinet and promptly lobbed the red object across the alleyway where it hit the wall above Orihime’s head and sprayed the clear substance all over her friend. She couldn’t remember ever being happier when Orihime’s eyes returned to normal and blinked confusedly at the sight before her.
“Not now, Tat-chan,” Urahara interrupted cheerfully, his zanpakutou still holding the woman at bay. “Your time would be much better spent preparing an attack while I hold her down, yes?”
Tatsuki’s grin widened another notch.
“My pleasure.”
~*~
Shihouin Yoruichi surveyed the damage they’d caused with a sigh, regretting having to shake up the storefront like this. But they really hadn’t had much choice, so she supposed the fact that Urahara Shoten was in much better shape than the street in front of it was good enough for now. Reassured of their victory as she watched the giant arrancar (Albatros, was it? She hadn’t been paying much attention during the introductions.), evaporate into the air - white feathers, mountainous body fat, and two deceitfully fast sickles all leaving this world for good – she finally turned her attention to the one who had made this little romp worth while.
Long teal lockes, determined gray eyes, and a body like a centaur.
“Well, now that was a surprise,” she smirked.
And Neliel Tu offered her a small smile in return before she relaxed from her fighting stance and resealed Gamuza, revealing her original, full-grown arrancar form. “Me, or the other arrancar?” she asked lightly.
“Naw, the other guy wasn’t the least bit interesting. What was that release of his again?”
“‘Muelan, Gomelos de Acero,’” Nel repeated calmly.
Yoruichi smiled wide as she wrapped an arm around the other woman’s shoulders. “I think that fits us better, don’t you?” she quipped playfully.
Nel Tu couldn’t help but widen her smile as well, replacing her zanpakutou at her side. “He didn’t stand a chance.”
“Damn right! Now who’s up for fish sticks?”
~*~
Spanish Index:
Pavo Real – Peacock
Brille, Musa Vana – Glisten, Vain Muse
Cuervo - Raven
Engañe, Amante Oscura – Deceive, Dark Lover
Halcón - Falcon
Déspiertete, Jinete del Viento – Awaken, Wind Rider
Paloma - Dove
Suene, Príncipe de la Paz – Ring (Sound), Prince of Peace
Albatros - Albatross
Muelan, Gomelos de Acero – Grind, Steel Twins
Corrections in the Spanish courtesy of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lonely_lycanth.
Fandom: Bleach
Main Character: Hitsugaya Toushirou
Rating: PG-13
Genre: General/Action/Suspense
Warnings: Occasional language, violence, gore.
Timeline: This story follows the manga's timeline. It begins directly before the Hueco Mundo arc and diverges from there.
Summary: The board has been laid out. The pieces have been set and moved. The pawns are scattered across the floor, and Ichimaru’s fingers are wrapped around a stark white bishop. “That’s another check, little taichou.” The game has only begun.
Author's Note: Hitsugaya is not in this chapter. He’s mentioned, but he doesn’t make an appearance. This chapter was an experiment for me. I tried to flesh out a few characters that I’ve neglected or that I feel Kubo’s neglected, and I tried to write from points of view I’ve never written before.
“Let him who desires peace prepare for war.”
-Flavius Vegetius Renatus
~*~
Chapter Twenty-One
Like a Worm from a Bird
~*~
“Looks like Buitre’s at it again. Why am I not surprised he was the first to engage?”
“I know, really. He never ceases to amaze me. All of that complaining, and yet he still goes after the weakest targets around. A vulture to the bitter end, I guess?”
“Aw, give him some credit. If you were that ugly, you’d complain too.”
“Hahah! You’re right, you’re right. I guess we should just ignore him and count our blessings.”
Kurosaki Ichigo watched, body rigid and Zangetsu already in hand, as two figures approached, cutting them off in their dash to Toushirou. He felt Rukia take a step back beside him, and he could hear Tatsuki and Orihime breathing hard behind him on the other side. They’d been about to go find Karin when the former taichou had let loose his reiatsu, and Ichigo was fairly sure that he wasn’t supposed to be doing anything of the sort. Not one step later, these two had shown up, striding toward them as nonchalant as could be, conversing like two old girl friends as they let their spiritual pressure overwhelm their victims.
The closer they came, the more obvious it was that they were definitely not friendly, opposites in every way save for their equally feminine appearances and their fatally amused expressions. One sported a long, waist-length braid of pale sea green, held together at the back of her head by four bony spikes. Red eyes peered playfully from behind long bangs, and slender arms rested their elbows against the hilts of two wakizashi, one at each side, as she stood feet spread out in an assertive stance. The other’s dark face was half obscured by long, straight, indigo tresses that reached to the smalls of her back, the only visible black iris looking at those spread out before her as if they were nothing but diseased sewer rats. Around that eye was a bony triangle, rounding her eyebrow and down the curves of her cheek. Her stark white uniform could only be described as a formfitting Chinese dress, the long slit up her right leg revealing the hole in her thigh and emphasizing the sword at her waist.
“Well, if we’re counting blessings,” the darker one smirked, “that’s one, two, three…” A pause as her finger pointed to Ichigo. “Three and a half blessings, right here in front of us.”
“I don’t know what you’re after,” Ichigo’s eyes widened as Rukia weaseled her way into the conversation, sounding much braver than she looked, “but you won’t find it here. Leave Karakura, or we will destroy you.”
“Ooh! Check it out! The little shinigami one is pretty feisty. Just my type,” purred the braided one with a suggestive wink.
And Ichigo’s mind instantly ground to a halt. “Wait,” he leaned toward Rukia. “Is she … coming on to you?”
The arrancar in the China dress burst out laughing as the other glared down at their pray in a mixture of disgust and insult. Rukia pounded him upside the head, and it wasn’t until his eyes trailed grudgingly to the creature’s chest, just below the signature hollow hole, that he realized the braided one was actually male. Huh. Who’da thunk it? Yumichika would’ve had a field day with him.
“Aw, don’t take him so seriously. You should consider it a compliment. Men have always been the slower, stupider sex,” the woman said helpfully. But the other arrancar wasn’t hearing it.
“Oh, no. Nuh-uh. I don’t care how stupid he is. I am not a girl, dammit, and now I have to prove that to him in many very painful ways.”
“Yeah, that’s an attractive mental image,” the woman grunted sarcastically, but by this time no one was listening to her.
“Oi, you! Strawberry! The name’s Pavo Real. She’s Cuervo. What’s your name?” called the braided one.
“Kurosaki Ichigo. I’m a substitute shinigami.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard of you. How about your harem girls?”
Ichigo blushed beet red, as did the three girls.
“H-How dare you?!” growled Rukia, calling on whatever inner power source it was that kept her constantly energized and alert. “I am Kuchiki Rukia, member of the noble Kuchiki clan, and if you dare taint that name with such insults again, I’ll-!”
A hand clamped itself over her mouth as dark eyes glared firmly at their enemies. “Arisawa Tatsuki and Inoue Orihime. What do you care?”
“I didn’t hear a Rangiku in there, did you?”
“Not at all,” Cuervo grinned in anticipation.
“Glorious. I’ll be taking the strawberry and his whipped cream,” he offered them a feral smirk as he removed both wakizashi from their sheaths.
“Then I’ll take his two mistresses,” she acquiesced, pawing her own weapon fondly.
All four bodies on the ground tensed. Ichigo’s eye traveled carefully to Tatsuki. She had seen an arrancar only once, and it hadn’t ended well at all. He would have expected her to be the most hesitant, even considering her personality, but somehow it seemed like she was the sharpest of all of them, clenching her hands into fists as she stared the enemy down, ready for anything. Where had that come from? But he had no time to dwell on that question. The resurrección releases were uttered simultaneously.
“Brille, Musa Vana,” Pavo Real commanded, his tone deadly.
“Engañe, Amante Oscura,” Cuervo intoned, equally malicious.
And even before their transformations were complete, they were already charging.
“Al Kon?”
“No! You bloomin’ idjit! ‘Alcón, ‘Alcón! ‘Alcón de los Raptores! Don’ patronize me, ya bloody tomato!”
“I’m not patronizing anybody, damn foreigner!” Abarai Renji grunted in frustration.
“Halcón.” Both Renji and their guest turned to Chad, surprised that he’d actually spoken. Thus far, he’d kept his distance from the two obnoxious arguers. “Halcón de los Raptores. It means Falcon of the Birds of Prey.”
“Finally! I was beginnin’ to wonder if everyone ‘ere was bloody brainless!”
“Oi! If your name’s Falcon, why didn’t you just say so in the first place?!”
“‘Cos my name’s not Falcon! It’s ‘Alcón!”
And Sado Yasutora indulged in his second sigh since the arrancar had decided to interrupt their patrol.
The arrancar himself seemed fairly typical, save for his obnoxious foreign accent. Chad didn’t pretend to be an expert on the subject, but after having returned from Hueco Mundo, he could safely say Halcón would have fit in nicely. A quick once-over had provided the burly high school student with the basics. Windswept mahogany hair misplaced by a white, wing-like protrusion over his left ear; gold, almond-shaped eyes; just muscular enough to outgrow the term slender but still far from bulky; robed in loose, white fabric with no sleeves, revealing the hole at his shoulder blade; and a katana at his side.
“Shut up, ya bloody ‘orse turd! I’ve ‘ad enough o’ your lookin’ down on me!”
Right. Typical.
“Bring it on, you lousy tourist!”
So he did.
“Fine by me,” Halcón growled, yanking the blade from its sheath. “We’re s’posed ta be quick anyways. Déspiertete, Jinete del Viento.”
The hollow transformation was a sight to behold. Brown hair became brown feathers, gold eyes became hawk-like hollow eyes, bare feet became talons, the protrusion over his ear became a white, bony wing as another sprouted on the other side, and the sword melded into a chain scythe. Chad admired it for a moment, but a moment was all he had.
When Halcón said “quick,” he meant it.
The next thing Chad knew, Renji was shouting his bankai release at the top of his lungs, and a speeding, brown blur collided with the bony snake’s open mouth. Through the upturning dust, a glint of metal caught his eye, and suddenly Renji was flying backward, Hihiou Zabimaru and all, the arrancar standing where the mouth used to be, unscathed as he yanked the chain scythe back into his outstretched talons. All before Sado Yasutora could even blink an eye.
Then the hollow eyes turned on him. “One down, one ta go. You gonna fight too, big guy? I don’t ‘ave anythin’ against ya personally, but if ya don’t, I’m just gonna move on ta the next guy.”
Chad’s gaze moved in the direction Renji had flown. He had seen blood in the instant the attack hit, and there was no apparent movement from the long, segmented bankai. With that in mind, he simply turned back to Halcón and silently answered by donning his armored arms. A devil and a giant. Surely between the two, they could catch a bird. Or at least stall it.
Halcón eyed the arms critically for a moment before he shrugged, feathers ruffling at the fluid motion. “Suit yaself. Catch me if ya can.”
And then he was gone from sight. Insane speeds and a long range weapon. An odd combination, but a surprisingly effective one. There was only one way Chad could think to counter it. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but he only had about a second to think anyway, so when Halcón reappeared right in front of him, just as he’d done with Renji, he acted on instinct.
Talons coming in to tear at his gut, and a quick block with his left. A blunt hit with the handle on the other end of the chain right into his shoulder. No block that time. His left wasn’t fast enough, and he couldn’t afford to use his right arm yet. Wait for it. Wait for it. Another set of talons, another block with the left. Then came the blade.
Finally.
Brazo Derecho de Gigante flew with practiced speed and precision to block the wayward scythe. Impact. Chad ground his teeth in pain when the curved blade did not bounce off of the large, black shield, instead embedding itself deep into the mouth-like design. He saw a smirk grace the arrancar’s lips as Halcón readied himself to retract the weapon, and then he saw it fade when he reached out to grab the chain with his left arm, wrapping it around the appendage and yanking hard.
It was either let go of the chain scythe or drag Chad right along with it. Halcón hesitated for just a second, debating on whether he really wanted to try and separate the large Mexican boy from the scythe. A second was more than Chad could have asked for. Brazo Izquierda del Diablo, chain and all, shot forward to the trapped arrancar, and two words escaped from Chad’s lips.
“La Muerte.”
It was impossible to miss from this close range. Halcón’s eyes widened in shock as he flew back from the devastating hit and … right into Hihiou Zabimaru. His back slammed into the bony white of the snake-like head, and the large bankai proceeded to bash the arrancar deep into the ground below.
“Tsk,” Renji grunted from within the segmented coils. A steady flow of blood dripped down from a cut above his left eye, and his fur cowl was stained a deep red from a large wound just below his shoulder. But all in all he was still in full form. “So how long did you know I was alright?”
“From the beginning,” came Chad’s simple reply, and Renji laughed.
Halcón was slowly getting back to his feet now. No more pointless arguments; no more chances to run. Those eyes told the world he was dead serious now. Chad tensed, ignoring the pain he still felt in his arm.
“C’mon. Let’s show this bastard just how much of a mistake he made by coming here,” the redhead growled. “Remember what we went over in training?”
Sado Yasutora nodded, and Renji offered him a dangerous smirk.
“Yeah. We’re gonna do it exactly like that.”
“Okay, let me get this straight,” said Asano Keigo calmly.
Kojima Mizuiro only nodded, leaning against the brick wall behind them and breathing heavily.
“I felt something weird and stepped outside to check it out. The same thing happened to you. We met up, and then some crazy weirdo kid came out of nowhere. I told him to go back to bed, and he bit my finger.” He held up the abused protrusion for emphasis. “Then, he said something about us making great target practice, shouted some weird thing to his big, scary sword, and went on a homicidal rampage. Is that right?”
Again, Kojima Mizuiro only nodded. He didn’t have the air for a reply, though somehow he wasn’t surprised that Keigo did.
“Then why the hell haven’t I woken up yet?!”
That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? Before this mess began, he’d been on a date. A date. With a drop dead gorgeous woman and her sister, he added ruefully. Everything had been fine; everything had been just as it always had.
And then… this.
What Urahara had shown them was nothing compared to this. They weren’t ready for this nonsense. He’d been on a date an hour ago. Realizing that he could see ghosts, learning that Keigo and Tatsuki could too, getting to know Hitsugaya-san and eventually Rukia and Renji, training with Urahara… All of it paled in comparison with what they were experiencing now. They were being chased by a damn kid as small as Hitsugaya who apparently wanted nothing more than to flatten them against the pavement. And he’d just been on a date.
He couldn’t remember ever seeing Keigo even this serious. And in all honesty, he couldn’t remember ever being this serious himself.
“Ne, ne. You forgot the part where the ‘crazy weirdo kid’ and his ‘big, scary sword’ cast his invincible spell and became your worst nightmare.”
Both Mizuiro and Keigo whirled around at the familiar voice, staring at the boy before them. Or, at least, what used to be a boy. Mizuiro recalled the moment all too well. “Suene,” the kid had said. “Suene, Príncipe de la Paz.” That was all it had taken. Short, blonde hair had morphed into platinum feathers. Grey eyes had been surrounded by black nothingness. Talons grew right out of his wrists. Two small, white nubs on each side of his neck sprouted two white wings. And his simple katana had become a giant telephone pole with razor sharp scythe-teeth all along it.
It was a wonder that the two of them were still breathing.
“The name’s Paloma, in case you were interested,” the monster drawled lightly, swinging the pole-of-death as if it were as light as a feather. “If you don’t wanna die, you should probably fight back, ne? If you don’t, this won’t be any fun.”
The two reluctant high school students turned to each other, the strangely mutual acknowledgement not bypassing either’s attention. Keigo instantly began shaking his head, arms flailing in every direction. “Oh, no! No way! I am not gonna be a part of this! I’m running and running ‘til I can’t run no more!” But Mizuiro was not going to give up without a fight. The crazy kid was obviously going to keep chasing them if they ran again. He wasn’t going to go down running when everyone else was out there was doing something to help.
He was gonna live, damn it! He was going to date that drop dead gorgeous woman one more time, and then he was going to date her sister one more time, and then, when he had no regrets, he could die. But not now!
Not after he told Hitsugaya-san not to worry.
He grabbed the other boy’s collar, keeping him from running and pulling him close. With the same boyish innocence he used to warp everyone else in the world, he smiled down at Keigo and began one of the hardest tasks he’d ever taken upon himself: convince Asano Keigo to do something that even he didn’t want to do. “Aw, c’mon. I can’t do it alone. And you know chicks dig the hero types. Don’t you want as many girls as Ichigo?”
“Th-Th-That’s not fair!” the other boy squirmed. “Your devil charms won’t work on me!”
“How about this then?” Asano Keigo instantly stopped struggling when Mizuiro held out his palm, and three red-orange balls of light began floating above it. Keigo would know what they meant. Urahara and Shihouin had been running them around over a week, after all. Keigo and Mizuiro had both seen each other’s budding abilities, and Mizuiro was already attempting to pull a strategy together in his mind. The innocent smile made a magnificent come-back. “If you don’t want to cooperate, I can just throw you at him with a couple of these, and all of my problems will be solved.”
A pause as the other boy eyed the floating spheres of light. “...Fine. But if I die, I’m going to haunt you for all eternity. And I’ll never shut up.”
Mizuiro’s smile widened. Oh, so he knew he was annoying. That would make things a great deal easier.
After Mizuiro whispered hasty instructions into his friend’s ear, they stood up and faced the boy once more. He was leaning against the wall and yawning loudly, but when he saw them turn around, he stood up too. “Ne, are you done being boring yet?”
“I am not boring!” Keigo whined in return. “It’s just that no one understands my true potential! It’s always about ‘Ooh! Ichigo’s got a girl living in his closet!’ or ‘Ooh! Mizuiro’s gonna ditch us ‘cause he has another girlfriend!’ I’ve got redeeming qualities too, dammit!”
“You’re loud. And funny,” the child arrancar smirked. “You die first.”
And Keigo’s eyes bulged as the giant, scythe-toothed club came right down on them. Mizuiro ducked, rolled, and disappeared. Keigo, on the other hand, had to try something a little less discreet and a lot more distracting. Closing his eyes tight, as if anticipating a punch to the face, he lifted up his hands. They glowed a deep red, and then came the impact.
His teeth ground painfully together as he felt the cement beneath him crack and give way, pushing him several inches into the ground. But even if the rest of his body was feeling the pressure, his arms held strong, the top of his head only inches away from the deadly teeth. He took in all the oxygen he could as quickly as he could as he watched Paloma’s eyes widen in surprise. The smallest of cocky smiles reached his panting lips. “Right back atcha, brat.”
With one last deep breath, Keigo pooled together as much reiatsu as he could, and his glowing red hands changed color to a royal blue. The effect was an unexpected shockwave that blew the giant, spiked pole back into the arrancar’s face. His feet screeched against the pavement as he skidded backward, slamming into the brick wall with a thud. But before he could pick himself back up, Mizuiro came out of nowhere, the same three balls of light in his hand. He ran right up to the monster and slammed his hands, palm out, into his stomach.
A cock of his head and a cheery smile.
And then the child arrancar’s abdomen blew up.
He burst right through the brick barrier and out of sight, leaving the large weapon and a trail of blood in his wake.
For a moment, all Mizuiro or Keigo could do was stare at the mess they’d made, shock keeping them from fully understanding what had just happened. They turned to look at each other, breathing hard and barely standing after the energy they’d exerted. Naturally, Keigo was the first to break the silence.
“Hahaah!” he shouted, just to get rid of some of the excess adrenaline. “Did you see that?! I rock!” He threw up his hands in ecstasy as two small women, one red and one blue, appeared above his shoulders.
“He’s so cute when he gets this way,” red swooned.
“Yeah, but we’re the ones who did all the work,” tsked blue.
And once again, Kojima Mizuiro only nodded.
For a moment, all was right in the world again. At least until the ominous shadow fell over them, and they looked up just in time to see a bright blue arrow careen across their vision and disrupt the aim of their enemy’s club just before it turned them to mush.
“Generally, people wait until after they’ve won to celebrate,” scolded the familiar voice of Ishida Uryuu, his eye on the child-like arrancar as he clutched his wounded stomach. “If you have any intention of living, I suggest you follow my lead.”
And so they did.
She couldn’t see Ichigo or Rukia anywhere. Damn it. Tatsuki tightened her grip on Orihime’s wrist as they ran, trying to piece together what the hell was happening. She only knew one thing for sure, and that was that this Cuervo woman was an arrancar. She was like those monsters that Toushirou had described; she was like that bloated bastard that had had her on the ground without so much as a bat of an eye such a short time ago.
And she’d be damned if she was going to let that happen to Orihime! Those arrancar bastards had taken her once; there was no way they were doing it again.
But that insane woman proved every bit as much of a challenge as Tatsuki had thought she’d be. From the feathered, purple-black mane to the sharp, black talons and ebony wings to the friggin’ two-bladed scythe. She’d charged, she’d swung that stupid scythe around, she’d separated them from Ichigo and Rukia, and then… And then she’d done something.
She’d done something to Orihime.
Tatsuki bit her lip as she went in for a sharp turn into an alley way, dragging the other girl behind her. She almost looked normal running like this, almost looked like nothing had happened. But all Tatsuki had to do was look into those wide, empty, black eyes and see the constantly moving and yet silent mouth to know Orihime wasn’t there anymore.
But she wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. She just needed to beat this Cuervo bitch into the ground, and then Orihime would be fine. She knew it. The only problem was how to go about doing that.
The young karate student wracked her brain to come up with something, anything that would give her the upper hand but when the arrancar strode confidently into the alley, she changed her mind. Arisawa Tatsuki hadn’t ranked second in that vale tudo championship by trying to duck and dodge and plan longwinded strategies. Oh no. She’d ranked that high because she knew when to charge right in and when to play dirty.
Both were sounding pretty damn nice right about now.
“You’re only doing her more harm than good,” the woman arrancar smirked sadistically, pointing as Orihime slumped to the floor, mouth still running a mile a minute with no result. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s kind of adorable, really.”
“What did you do to her?” Tatsuki seethed, slowly, carefully, letting go of Orihime and maneuvering her hand behind her back.
“Oh, nothing much,” she shrugged tauntingly, stepping closer every second. “She’s just dreaming. It’s so relaxing, to take a break from reality every once in a while.”
Orihime looked anything but relaxed, and that only fueled Tatsuki’s anger. No more stalling. A brilliant, white light shown throughout the alleyway, blinding the arrancar just enough for Tatsuki to leap forward, pulling her hand back for a raging punch. And as the marble-like sphere of solidified reiatsu came crashing down, an image of Toushirou looking up into the sky, just like she herself had done so many times while Orihime had been trapped in Hueco Mundo, came to the forefront of her mind. For just a second, time seemed to stop. But that second was all she needed to make her decision, and time rushed forward as the punch hit its mark, sending the arrancar and most of the alleyway a foot into the ground.
“That one was from Taichou,” she spat into the flying debris, rolling her shoulder to loosen it up. “Nothing personal. But you bastards just don’t know when to quit, so this next one…” Another shining light as she molded her reiatsu into a physical form, this time a larger, razor sharp cone. “This next one’s from me.”
She could make out Cuervo’s outline in the settling dust, her scythe at the ready, and she was in no mood to wait until she could see more. Charging again, she ducked into the crater and aimed for the cruel arrancar’s stomach. And when the woman moved to block, she didn’t hesitate to plow right into her knee cap instead.
The arrancar let lose a blood-curdling shriek as her eyes widened in pain, though she remained upright despite all of the pressure Tatsuki had poured into the hit. The reiatsu cone disappeared from her knee cap, and blood flowed unrepentant from the now gaping hole. This time however, the arrancar knew what she was up against, and before Tatsuki could escape into the debris, she grabbed her by an unruly lock of hair.
“You little bitch!” the woman arrancar screamed as she yanked Tatsuki into the air, reveling in her obvious pain and shoving her head right up to the side of the curved scythe blades. “Let’s see how you like it!”
The moment Tatsuki saw her reflection in the metal, everything changed. The world seemed to pull a one-eighty and rotate the opposite direction around her; oxygen was carbon dioxide, and carbon dioxide was oxygen; colors intermingled into a giant mass; and there was a gaping hole in her knee cap.
Pain hit her from every side as she stared disbelieving at the bloody limb. It was too much, too much pain dammit, and she collapsed to the ground, unable to hold herself up. She was losing blood so fast, pooling around her on the cold, hard ground. It was so damn cold, and it hurt, and she was going to die here.
She was going to die.
She couldn’t save Orihime. She couldn’t help Toushirou. She couldn’t even breathe. And it was cold, and it hurt, and … and … it was slimy?
“Miss me, Tat-chan?”
The world’s rotation righted itself, and Arisawa Tatsuki was lying on the ground, her knee intact. She was covered in something wet and gooey, and standing above her, zanpakutou locked with the arrancar’s scythe, was Urahara Kisuke.
“Don’t call me that, baka-jii!”
And completely ignoring the hysteric arrancar trying in vain to cut him down, he grinned at her before throwing a red, yoyo-like object down for her to catch. “Nice to have you back. Now be a good girl and toss that over to Inoue so that your real training can begin, ne, Tat-chan?
Wearily sitting up, she eyed the skull and crossbones painted on each side. “What’s in it?”
Without missing a beat, he answered frankly, “I had Nel puke into them a few days back. You never know when it’ll come in handy.”
Something in the back of her mind made the very disturbing connection that the stuff she was coated in was likely from the same source, but she filed the thought away in her mental “just don’t ask, seriously” cabinet and promptly lobbed the red object across the alleyway where it hit the wall above Orihime’s head and sprayed the clear substance all over her friend. She couldn’t remember ever being happier when Orihime’s eyes returned to normal and blinked confusedly at the sight before her.
“Not now, Tat-chan,” Urahara interrupted cheerfully, his zanpakutou still holding the woman at bay. “Your time would be much better spent preparing an attack while I hold her down, yes?”
Tatsuki’s grin widened another notch.
“My pleasure.”
Shihouin Yoruichi surveyed the damage they’d caused with a sigh, regretting having to shake up the storefront like this. But they really hadn’t had much choice, so she supposed the fact that Urahara Shoten was in much better shape than the street in front of it was good enough for now. Reassured of their victory as she watched the giant arrancar (Albatros, was it? She hadn’t been paying much attention during the introductions.), evaporate into the air - white feathers, mountainous body fat, and two deceitfully fast sickles all leaving this world for good – she finally turned her attention to the one who had made this little romp worth while.
Long teal lockes, determined gray eyes, and a body like a centaur.
“Well, now that was a surprise,” she smirked.
And Neliel Tu offered her a small smile in return before she relaxed from her fighting stance and resealed Gamuza, revealing her original, full-grown arrancar form. “Me, or the other arrancar?” she asked lightly.
“Naw, the other guy wasn’t the least bit interesting. What was that release of his again?”
“‘Muelan, Gomelos de Acero,’” Nel repeated calmly.
Yoruichi smiled wide as she wrapped an arm around the other woman’s shoulders. “I think that fits us better, don’t you?” she quipped playfully.
Nel Tu couldn’t help but widen her smile as well, replacing her zanpakutou at her side. “He didn’t stand a chance.”
“Damn right! Now who’s up for fish sticks?”
Spanish Index:
Pavo Real – Peacock
Brille, Musa Vana – Glisten, Vain Muse
Cuervo - Raven
Engañe, Amante Oscura – Deceive, Dark Lover
Halcón - Falcon
Déspiertete, Jinete del Viento – Awaken, Wind Rider
Paloma - Dove
Suene, Príncipe de la Paz – Ring (Sound), Prince of Peace
Albatros - Albatross
Muelan, Gomelos de Acero – Grind, Steel Twins
Corrections in the Spanish courtesy of
lonely_lycanth.