The Noble Sort
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Bleach › Het - Male/Female
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Adult +
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43
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Category:
Bleach › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
43
Views:
4,599
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Bleach or make any money off of this story. All rights belong to Tite Kubo.
Chapter 20
A/N: As usual, all the important information is lurking in the notes of the first two parts. This chapter is the second part of the final Aizen battle, and as you saw from the earlier chapter, I tried to make her just one of the many, not too intrusive in Kubo's storyline. But from here it's total AU, especially considering that I only know who survived as of the time I was writing. And there are still some we aren't sure on.
Caution: There will be minor spoilers! If you haven't read this far in the manga, be warned.
As always, R & R!
Enjoy!
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"The Noble Sort"
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They had won.
She could feel the grin taking over her face, sure it would frighten anyone actually looking.
He was gone. The bane of every shinigami, every Visored, even the humans who didn't know anything about the spirit world, he was dead. And if he wasn't dead, although she really hoped he was, he wasn't moving anytime soon.
And it had been easier than she had ever thought! Well, her part at least.
But—damn—Matsumoto was wailing behind her, and Isshin was obviously badly hurt. She knew that there were those needing treatment inside the gates, too, and the medical teams left behind were trapped in her barrier.
All it took was a wave of her hand.
The glowing barrier collapsed loudly, like squares folding in upon themselves from top to bottom. It was similar to a collapsible tent, only ten times louder. But the orange glow was fading and the drain on her energy with it; soon Karakura would be completely free again and her barrier a thing of the past for the shinigami trapped within.
Four shadows splashed in front of her, her small group reforming now that the battle was over, and she mimicked a deep breath. The relief she felt was palpable.
Now people were appearing, some kids from the alley near Gin's final stand, a group of businessmen from a building adjacent to her position. They would have to get Isshin, Matsumoto, and Gin's body out of here before anyone realized what was going on. She knew that if they were awake, they had spiritual power. They could possibly see them.
"Akane—"
"We're on it. We'll get them to the medical teams and then head to the outskirts. Is there any specific place we should meet up?"
She flicked her sword to the right.
"There's a monastery in the mountains, there," she said, her voice hushed. It wouldn't do for Matsumoto or Isshin-san to hear them. "They'll give me shelter; at the very least, we can hide out there long enough to get a gate to the real world."
"We can always hide in a building and just wait for them to transfer the city, Minako."
She shook her head at Isamu. It was a good idea in theory but not in practice.
"It could take them days to get everything back to normal. They'd be able to find us and I'd be too vulnerable to even protest any of you being thrown in jail. They," she stopped, a fiery 'hand' coming up to rub her forehead, "I know they've reconvened Central. It's too dangerous right now. I don't want any of you caught in Seireitei politics, or its warped justice system, merely because you helped me with this."
"Either way, we shouldn't just stand around, guys," Akane said, her eyes shifting about.
"I agree. We need to get a move on. People will be flooding the area soon if we leave Gin's body here."
Kenta nodded, quickly moving to hoist up Isshin and take off toward the gates where the medical teams would be coming together. Isamu mirrored his movements, moving to shoulder Gin's body even as Matsumoto shrieked her protest.
"You have to let him, Matsumoto. You have to get out of here, now!" Minako said fiercely.
The strawberry-blonde looked up at her, most likely not recognizing the person in front of her but so defeated by her grief she didn't protest. She stood, her pink scarf swaying in the wind as she was off, following Isamu not a second later.
Chouko sped off behind her.
"And me, Obi-wan?" Akane asked, and Minako felt herself try to grin.
"You stick with me. If I don't make it to the monastery you'll have to get the guys and bring them to my position."
"How long—"
"Too fucking long."
She glanced around, finally picking a five story building to her left, and jumped. Akane was right on her heels.
From here she could see the easiest path to the monastery, but it was very close to the walls. Too close. They would need to round about, slip down to the east and then head up towards the hills once they got out of the city and into Rukongai.
"Follow me."
She skipped from rooftop to rooftop, keeping her pace slow and steady to avoid draining her energy any further while also allowing Akane to keep up. Akane couldn't match her pace normally; right now she wouldn't have a chance to keep up if Minako let herself go full speed.
Five minutes in, no one was following them. Still, neither female let their guard down, Akane continually taking the cues Minako offered up. The paranoia the older woman felt was a tangible force in the air surrounding them. Both women had eyes and ears open for any change in their environment.
"What's up?"
She almost tripped mid-air, the suddenness of Akane's question startling her out of her perusal of their surroundings.
"What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.
"Something's on your mind. You're more worried than you were before the battle. It doesn't make any sense."
Aizen's face flashed in front of her eyes.
"Do they think I am the cause of your pain? Have you even told your oji-san the truth?"
It had been in the back of her mind since, only pushed out by the survival instincts that had taken over during the intensity of the encounter in Karakura. Shinigami had heard him. It would take time, but the news would get back to her uncle, if he lived, or whoever would be in charge if he had perished.
She hoped it would be buried, but she knew it wouldn't. There would be even more questions now, questions she couldn't rightfully answer without causing even more trouble for herself and oji-san. It was better to disappear for a while, long enough that everyone forgot what Aizen had said and concentrated on the fact that she had shown up and done her part.
"Aizen," she muttered.
"What about him?"
"He knew. And he fucking revealed it in front of several conscious shinigami, one of which was Sasakibe." She heard Akane's gasp but ignored it. "I have to get the hell out of here for a while—hope to Kami no one thinks it important enough to mention, too. Hope it ends up forgotten."
"You know that won't happen! They'll latch onto it!"
"What was I supposed to do, Akane?" she shouted over the wind racing by their ears. "It was Aizen. I couldn't just tell him to shut his mouth, now could I?"
"You could have killed the ones still alive!"
"Not even I'm that bloodthirsty," she replied, shooting the redhead a dirty glare. "Plus, I was in the middle of a delightful transformation. Too busy to kill someone, thank you."
"'It's them or you.' Remember that? The first piece of advice you ever gave me. You always said that if it came down to who lived, then you had to choose yourself."
"Right now it isn't threatening my life," she muttered.
"It will, and you know it. You're being thickheaded on purpose. You're—you've gone soft."
"I've been living with them, Akane! Damn it! I can't kill them!"
"They would kill you, Minako! If Central ordered it they would cut you down like you don't matter!"
She jumped from the house they had just landed on, the grass in front of it springy and, now, charred. Akane was fuming in front of her, her red hair a mess and her typical leather jacket looking a little worse for wear.
"You told me you would never go back. Has that changed?"
Minako hung her head, staring at the burnt grass beneath her flaming form.
"Well?"
"I can't answer that."
"Why not?" she shrieked.
"Because it's—it's complicated, alright?"
"It's—it's not complicated, Minako. It's a simple yes or no."
They stared at each other for a long moment, then Minako shook her head.
"I don't know."
And she took off again, aiming for the approaching outskirts of Rukongai, Akane sputtering profanities behind her but following all the same.
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4 Hours Later
"No Zero yet."
"Nope."
"Not a sign of one of 'em."
"Nope."
"Not one taichou-level shinigami we don't know."
"I get the point, Kenta."
"This is pointless, then."
"Probably."
"Should we go ahead n'leave, then?"
Both of the men looked at the woman leaning against the concrete wall between them. It wasn't immediately obvious to any outsiders, but she had the power in the group.
Mainly because she was Kenta's wife; he didn't want to sleep on the couch.
She scowled.
"No. Give it a few more hours."
"Proba'ly right. They could wait until everyone's back to show up."
"Could."
"Or they could be waiting for Minako to appear before they show."
"Could."
"I doubt it."
"Hmm."
Chouko just continued scowling, her eyes darting from face to face in the small shinigami medical camp less than a quarter of a mile in front of them.
"What about Minako?"
"What about her?"
"She'll be out of form by now. Akane could prob'ly use the help takin' care of her. I've never seen it, but I've heard about it. Seen th' aftermath."
"The monks will help."
"Yeah."
Chouko crossed her arms over her chest, her brows furrowing even further.
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2 Hours Later
Akane watched as the monks fluttered around the still form in the bed, chewing on one of her knuckles.
Minako had finally given up making it to the monastery in her bankai form, but she had been close enough that Akane had been able to scream for help from the monks instead of having to leave her in the forest to die while she trekked back to the city to get the others.
It was a small blessing, the only one they had been delivered so far.
There was blood everywhere, covering the sheets and the mattress and even the pillow; she could see Minako's barely breathing form, a burnt husk of what was once a pretty woman. Her skin was a mottled mess of charred black skin and pink blisters.
Akane fought the urge to vomit.
This is why, the redhead thought. This is why Urahara gave her the damned time limit. She should have listened to him, not tried to play the hero for a group of shinigami that couldn't care less about her.
"You'll have to get—"
"Do we have anymore of those sterile bandages?"
"You'll have to just cut it off if you can't get it to—"
The monks had taken control immediately, one burly man in an orange and red robe immediately swinging the devastated form into his arms and running toward the compound. They had whisked her into the room they had set up as their personal infirmary and instantly begun bathing the blood off of her with soft sponges, hissing at the burns they found all over her body, trying to cut her melted clothes off.
She had been pushed into a rickety wooden chair near the door, told to wait and not leave the room in case they had any questions. So far they had ignored her presence. They were too busy trying to keep their patient alive.
Blood was pooling on the floor now, a shimmering crimson puddle underneath the small bed.
The same fluid began to flow beneath her teeth, the consequence of biting down too hard.
They should have talked her out of it. They should have done something instead of offering to help, anything that would have gotten her to stay away from the battle.
The fight itself had been easy, at least their part. Once Aizen had made it to Seireitei he had been defeated quickly. But this—Minako knew this was waiting for her even if she didn't have to take part in the main battle. She had known the entire time and never said anything to them at all, only that she would need 'looking after' when she left her bankai form.
Bullshit.
Akane had been on a battlefield before. When she had served in the Gōtei 13 she had served under one of the noblest families in Seireitei, the famed Kuchiki shinigami. She had seen men die, seen battle wounds that would make a hardened soldier squeamish.
But she had never seen anything like this.
"Over ninety percent of her body—"
The taste of blood was metallic on her tongue; she couldn't tell if it was from the small wound she was creating on her knuckle or from the blood pooling around Minako, the scent of which hung heavily in the air. It was making her stomach turn, the small breakfast she had eaten that morning gone but enough liquid present to creep up her esophagus.
"I don't know, I've never—"
"But where is the bleeding—"
Her eyes shifted to the black sword propped against the wall near the bed. Hidaruma was covered in blood, and just letting her gaze fall on the sword brought back the horrific sound of his screaming combining with Minako's as they fought to regain human form.
The inhuman screaming would surely haunt her dreams for the rest of her life.
Fucking shinigami.
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10 Days Later
Yamamoto was pissed.
Anyone in the vicinity of the sou-taichou had heard his blustering the past few days, and his temper wasn't due to his missing arm. He was currently chewing out three of his finest taichou with another sitting patiently outside his office.
To anyone else Ukitake-taichou was calmly waiting for either his best friend or his sensei. That was what it looked like, at least, and the questionable look on his face was attributed to the maudlin thoughts he was voicing about the sou-taichou. That and the weird mood everyone had been in since the final battle; there hadn't really been any celebrating. Too many had been injured and close to death. Too many had died.
Ukitake-taichou was no different; that's how everyone but his third seats saw it.
He was acting out of character, that was for sure. They knew he had to be upset over his injuries as well as those of his sensei, but this was unbelievable. Rarely did the happy taichou they had come to know and love act like this, and they both thought that the statement of no one being able to replace the sou-taichou wasn't nearly enough to have brought about the level of morose behavior they had seen in him since the battle.
Maudlin was sometimes normal, yes, but not like this. He had even been drinking more than normal, joining his best friend every evening at a local teahouse.
It was the same with the sou-taichou. There was no way he was truly that upset about three missing haori. Perhaps the strain had finally gotten to him, or the fact that he had lost his arm. But missing haori? They doubted it. Something else was plaguing the most powerful group of men and women in Seireitei.
Of course, neither of the third seats had any possible way of knowing that their sou-taichou and their taichou were worrying about the mysterious disappearance of one female. They didn't know what Saskibe-fuku-taichou had told them about Aizen's short conversation with said female, and they had no clue that a meeting had taken place late last night in the Fourth Division concerning the chances of Minako's recovery without the aid of Unohana-taichou or Urahara-san, who both said it was very unlikely she would live more than a few days without advanced treatment.
They were clueless to what was building amongst the taichou; they only knew something was putting everyone on edge and it hadn't been explained to anyone without a white haori.
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Minako was still motionless in the small bed the monks had given her.
Akane was now joined by Isamu, although they would both have to soon emulate Chouko and Kenta and leave for the human world. The longer they stayed the more chance there was of someone sensing them or finding out that the monks were hiding former shinigami.
She truly didn't want to leave; Minako was in no shape to go anywhere and would not be coming with them for at least a month, probably more. The monks were sure it would take at least that long for her to wake up.
They didn't heal with reishi, they had told them over and over again. Herbs and bandages would keep her alive, but her recovery would be slow. They continued to explain that her outward appearance was not indicative of her organs' deterioration.
Isamu had told her that meant that her skin was healing—the black was gone and so were many of the blisters, leaving rough pink and red patches of blisters instead of the mottled burns that had been present—but her organs were in bad shape. According to the conversations he had overheard, her kidneys were not working properly and continuing to get worse. And her lungs were so charred she was barely breathing, barely taking in enough oxygen to keep her blood flowing through her body.
It all boiled down to the fact that Minako needed someone trained in healing shinigami, but there was no one they could take her to. Even Urahara was too close to Seireitei at this point. And they didn't know if he was alive, not in jail, conscious and able to help them.
They also had their own safety to look after.
The fight she had with Minako on the way to the monastery had run through her head a thousand times in the past few days, the advice she had thrown back at the older woman lingering at the front of her subconscious. 'Them or You.'
Did this qualify? Did she really care anymore?
She had been taught—even by the woman currently dying in front of her—that you had to secure your own life first. For Akane, that meant she should leave Minako here and go back to hiding in the human world. But—something kept her back.
Was this was Minako had felt? Was this why she hadn't killed the shinigami that heard Aizen's fateful remarks?
She was so angry at her, for everything at this point, but she also felt she finally understood what had made the woman hesitate. She knew the compassion that had stayed her hand. She might not fully agree with Minako's decision, but understanding was dulling the anger she had felt.
But a choice had to be made, and soon. The monks were getting antsy, wanting to take the patient into Rukongai or bring a healer here, and they would have to be long gone before that happened, with or without Minako.
And she still didn't know what to do.
The door to her right clattered open, the old sliding screen not nearly as smooth as the new ones in her apartment, and she sighed as Isamu entered with the herbalist monk that had been Minako's main caretaker the last week and a half.
Isamu nodded to her, stepping neatly to the side and leaning against her chair, while the monk, Hiro, checked bandages, puttered around the bed, and tsk'ed at whatever he found. His face, already rugged and lined from a long life lived in rough conditions, furrowed and scrunched in the late afternoon light.
"She is still not improving internally."
She looked up at Isamu as he sighed and nodded, and she wondered what they had been discussing this afternoon over tea—which she, a female, had not been invited to. The monks seemed to believe Isamu was their leader, a misconception they had let slide in favor of the treatment Minako was receiving.
"It is time for me to bring in another healer. Someone trained to heal such injuries."
"No." She was steadfast, and Isamu didn't argue with her opinion on bringing in another person.
The monk stared at her, his expression one of the deepest disbelief.
"She will die if you continue—"
"Shinigami cannot be brought here to heal her, and she can't be moved. You have to heal her."
The monk shot her a look, one she was sure monks were not even supposed to know. "Jo-san, I cannot heal her. I have tried. You must get a healer from the city if you wish her to live."
Isamu scoffed. "We have no money to pay them, and most of them are even more inept at healing than you are."
"There must be someone, surely."
"The only person is in the human realm, and you have said we cannot move her. He will not come here willingly, and we couldn't force him if we tried." Isamu sighed, biting his lip; she could tell what he was thinking.
"If he's even alive," she said gruffly. Isamu shot her a look but didn't refute her words.
"Either way, jo-san, she will die here without further treatment."
Akane looked at Isamu, defeat shining in her eyes.
"Well?"
"Unohana-taichou—"
"Cannot even be considered," she said fiercely. "They would all know where she is then."
"You know as well as I do that, even if we can get Urahara here, he can't heal this. Her internal organs are roasted, Akane."
The monk had perked up at the mention of the legendary healer of Seireitei, and there was a sheen of hope in his eyes.
"Unohana-sama could heal her, indeed. I do not know this Urahara, but Unohana-sama is revered far and wide for her techniques."
Isamu and Akane looked at each other, scowling.
"And which one of us is going to just march into the Fourth Division and ask her to come heal an AWOL shinigami?"
Isamu cracked a grin. "I could do it. I have at least twenty more accents they haven't heard yet. That and a haircut, maybe some dye, and they won't even know it was me."
"Yeah, and they'll be real suspicious when you bring them here and then disappear. And you really think someone in Seireitei doesn't know how well you and Kenta can copy speech patterns? Please," she said, disdain dripping from her words, "your old comrades would be on you before you made it through the gates. You're too high profile."
"It's the best idea we have right now, right?"
The monk stepped up, his hands pressed together in front of him and his head bowed.
"We can fetch Unohana-sama if needed."
The two fugitive shinigami looked at him with shock written on their faces.
"Why—" Isamu cleared his throat, "why would you help us? We're fugitives." He pointed to the bed where Minako's still form lay. "She's a fugitive. They won't treat her near as badly as us, but we're all fugitives."
"We do not involve ourselves in such matters. We help the injured, console the grieving, comfort the lonely." He looked up at them, his eyes gleaming. "Occasionally, we contact the shinigami for something we have need of. They do the same."
The monk moved slowly toward the door, the serenity he naturally exuded back in place.
"She will come if we call her. But we cannot keep them from arresting you—it would be best if you leave soon."
He shut the creaking sliding door as quietly as possible, and the two stared at each other before looking at the burned woman in the small bed.
They really had no other choice.
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A/N; This is officially the end of anything spoilerish regarding Bleach. From here on out everything is of my own design, completely AU. I am ignoring the current new arc in the manga and going in my own direction. After all, I was writing this arc when the battle was still going on this summer, so I didn't know everything. I've just gone back during editing and updated, added in the newer information.
Secondly, there were new characters introduced here. Some of them will play large roles, some will be supporting characters in the last half of this story. They are all original, mainly because no other exiles have been introduced to us in the manga except the Visoreds and Urahara's group. Unless you count Isshin, and I don't. We still don't have his story. So I created some. Same with Zero as they begin to pop up; we haven't seen any of them so I'm creating some.
And I've been thinking about changing the title of the story. It's no longer grabbing me. I rarely do this, but I've never liked the title and it's been on my mind for months. I'll make sure everyone knows if I do decide to change it. And if you have any ideas, feel free to shout them out. Worse comes to worse, I'll wait until the story is completely finished and posted before I change it, but at least this is a heads up to you all.
I've also been thinking about doing a Christmas chapter, although I'm not sure it would fit in with where we would be update-wise. Perhaps I'll do one and make it obvious that it's out of the timeline. I'm not sure. Anyone interested in that?
Finally, expect me to try to keep updating every ten days or so, but I will warn you all I'm headed into the busy part of my year. In my area the Christmas trade shows start this week, and then holidays, retail black period, and the end-of-year financial season. I'm a jack of all trades at a retail business; I do the books and the inventory control while also helping out with the trade shows and sales when needed. We also do framing and artwork, which is a big business around this time too. So I generally have very little time to do anything these last two months of the year, especially after Thanksgiving when I start cycle counting. I'm also in the middle of three major applications to work at universities and my GRE study, so I'm busy. Very busy. I'll try to keep up with updates, but don't worry if I fall behind. I will make sure the entire story is posted and finished. It's all done anyway, I'm just editing.
Caution: There will be minor spoilers! If you haven't read this far in the manga, be warned.
As always, R & R!
Enjoy!
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"The Noble Sort"
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They had won.
She could feel the grin taking over her face, sure it would frighten anyone actually looking.
He was gone. The bane of every shinigami, every Visored, even the humans who didn't know anything about the spirit world, he was dead. And if he wasn't dead, although she really hoped he was, he wasn't moving anytime soon.
And it had been easier than she had ever thought! Well, her part at least.
But—damn—Matsumoto was wailing behind her, and Isshin was obviously badly hurt. She knew that there were those needing treatment inside the gates, too, and the medical teams left behind were trapped in her barrier.
All it took was a wave of her hand.
The glowing barrier collapsed loudly, like squares folding in upon themselves from top to bottom. It was similar to a collapsible tent, only ten times louder. But the orange glow was fading and the drain on her energy with it; soon Karakura would be completely free again and her barrier a thing of the past for the shinigami trapped within.
Four shadows splashed in front of her, her small group reforming now that the battle was over, and she mimicked a deep breath. The relief she felt was palpable.
Now people were appearing, some kids from the alley near Gin's final stand, a group of businessmen from a building adjacent to her position. They would have to get Isshin, Matsumoto, and Gin's body out of here before anyone realized what was going on. She knew that if they were awake, they had spiritual power. They could possibly see them.
"Akane—"
"We're on it. We'll get them to the medical teams and then head to the outskirts. Is there any specific place we should meet up?"
She flicked her sword to the right.
"There's a monastery in the mountains, there," she said, her voice hushed. It wouldn't do for Matsumoto or Isshin-san to hear them. "They'll give me shelter; at the very least, we can hide out there long enough to get a gate to the real world."
"We can always hide in a building and just wait for them to transfer the city, Minako."
She shook her head at Isamu. It was a good idea in theory but not in practice.
"It could take them days to get everything back to normal. They'd be able to find us and I'd be too vulnerable to even protest any of you being thrown in jail. They," she stopped, a fiery 'hand' coming up to rub her forehead, "I know they've reconvened Central. It's too dangerous right now. I don't want any of you caught in Seireitei politics, or its warped justice system, merely because you helped me with this."
"Either way, we shouldn't just stand around, guys," Akane said, her eyes shifting about.
"I agree. We need to get a move on. People will be flooding the area soon if we leave Gin's body here."
Kenta nodded, quickly moving to hoist up Isshin and take off toward the gates where the medical teams would be coming together. Isamu mirrored his movements, moving to shoulder Gin's body even as Matsumoto shrieked her protest.
"You have to let him, Matsumoto. You have to get out of here, now!" Minako said fiercely.
The strawberry-blonde looked up at her, most likely not recognizing the person in front of her but so defeated by her grief she didn't protest. She stood, her pink scarf swaying in the wind as she was off, following Isamu not a second later.
Chouko sped off behind her.
"And me, Obi-wan?" Akane asked, and Minako felt herself try to grin.
"You stick with me. If I don't make it to the monastery you'll have to get the guys and bring them to my position."
"How long—"
"Too fucking long."
She glanced around, finally picking a five story building to her left, and jumped. Akane was right on her heels.
From here she could see the easiest path to the monastery, but it was very close to the walls. Too close. They would need to round about, slip down to the east and then head up towards the hills once they got out of the city and into Rukongai.
"Follow me."
She skipped from rooftop to rooftop, keeping her pace slow and steady to avoid draining her energy any further while also allowing Akane to keep up. Akane couldn't match her pace normally; right now she wouldn't have a chance to keep up if Minako let herself go full speed.
Five minutes in, no one was following them. Still, neither female let their guard down, Akane continually taking the cues Minako offered up. The paranoia the older woman felt was a tangible force in the air surrounding them. Both women had eyes and ears open for any change in their environment.
"What's up?"
She almost tripped mid-air, the suddenness of Akane's question startling her out of her perusal of their surroundings.
"What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.
"Something's on your mind. You're more worried than you were before the battle. It doesn't make any sense."
Aizen's face flashed in front of her eyes.
"Do they think I am the cause of your pain? Have you even told your oji-san the truth?"
It had been in the back of her mind since, only pushed out by the survival instincts that had taken over during the intensity of the encounter in Karakura. Shinigami had heard him. It would take time, but the news would get back to her uncle, if he lived, or whoever would be in charge if he had perished.
She hoped it would be buried, but she knew it wouldn't. There would be even more questions now, questions she couldn't rightfully answer without causing even more trouble for herself and oji-san. It was better to disappear for a while, long enough that everyone forgot what Aizen had said and concentrated on the fact that she had shown up and done her part.
"Aizen," she muttered.
"What about him?"
"He knew. And he fucking revealed it in front of several conscious shinigami, one of which was Sasakibe." She heard Akane's gasp but ignored it. "I have to get the hell out of here for a while—hope to Kami no one thinks it important enough to mention, too. Hope it ends up forgotten."
"You know that won't happen! They'll latch onto it!"
"What was I supposed to do, Akane?" she shouted over the wind racing by their ears. "It was Aizen. I couldn't just tell him to shut his mouth, now could I?"
"You could have killed the ones still alive!"
"Not even I'm that bloodthirsty," she replied, shooting the redhead a dirty glare. "Plus, I was in the middle of a delightful transformation. Too busy to kill someone, thank you."
"'It's them or you.' Remember that? The first piece of advice you ever gave me. You always said that if it came down to who lived, then you had to choose yourself."
"Right now it isn't threatening my life," she muttered.
"It will, and you know it. You're being thickheaded on purpose. You're—you've gone soft."
"I've been living with them, Akane! Damn it! I can't kill them!"
"They would kill you, Minako! If Central ordered it they would cut you down like you don't matter!"
She jumped from the house they had just landed on, the grass in front of it springy and, now, charred. Akane was fuming in front of her, her red hair a mess and her typical leather jacket looking a little worse for wear.
"You told me you would never go back. Has that changed?"
Minako hung her head, staring at the burnt grass beneath her flaming form.
"Well?"
"I can't answer that."
"Why not?" she shrieked.
"Because it's—it's complicated, alright?"
"It's—it's not complicated, Minako. It's a simple yes or no."
They stared at each other for a long moment, then Minako shook her head.
"I don't know."
And she took off again, aiming for the approaching outskirts of Rukongai, Akane sputtering profanities behind her but following all the same.
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4 Hours Later
"No Zero yet."
"Nope."
"Not a sign of one of 'em."
"Nope."
"Not one taichou-level shinigami we don't know."
"I get the point, Kenta."
"This is pointless, then."
"Probably."
"Should we go ahead n'leave, then?"
Both of the men looked at the woman leaning against the concrete wall between them. It wasn't immediately obvious to any outsiders, but she had the power in the group.
Mainly because she was Kenta's wife; he didn't want to sleep on the couch.
She scowled.
"No. Give it a few more hours."
"Proba'ly right. They could wait until everyone's back to show up."
"Could."
"Or they could be waiting for Minako to appear before they show."
"Could."
"I doubt it."
"Hmm."
Chouko just continued scowling, her eyes darting from face to face in the small shinigami medical camp less than a quarter of a mile in front of them.
"What about Minako?"
"What about her?"
"She'll be out of form by now. Akane could prob'ly use the help takin' care of her. I've never seen it, but I've heard about it. Seen th' aftermath."
"The monks will help."
"Yeah."
Chouko crossed her arms over her chest, her brows furrowing even further.
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2 Hours Later
Akane watched as the monks fluttered around the still form in the bed, chewing on one of her knuckles.
Minako had finally given up making it to the monastery in her bankai form, but she had been close enough that Akane had been able to scream for help from the monks instead of having to leave her in the forest to die while she trekked back to the city to get the others.
It was a small blessing, the only one they had been delivered so far.
There was blood everywhere, covering the sheets and the mattress and even the pillow; she could see Minako's barely breathing form, a burnt husk of what was once a pretty woman. Her skin was a mottled mess of charred black skin and pink blisters.
Akane fought the urge to vomit.
This is why, the redhead thought. This is why Urahara gave her the damned time limit. She should have listened to him, not tried to play the hero for a group of shinigami that couldn't care less about her.
"You'll have to get—"
"Do we have anymore of those sterile bandages?"
"You'll have to just cut it off if you can't get it to—"
The monks had taken control immediately, one burly man in an orange and red robe immediately swinging the devastated form into his arms and running toward the compound. They had whisked her into the room they had set up as their personal infirmary and instantly begun bathing the blood off of her with soft sponges, hissing at the burns they found all over her body, trying to cut her melted clothes off.
She had been pushed into a rickety wooden chair near the door, told to wait and not leave the room in case they had any questions. So far they had ignored her presence. They were too busy trying to keep their patient alive.
Blood was pooling on the floor now, a shimmering crimson puddle underneath the small bed.
The same fluid began to flow beneath her teeth, the consequence of biting down too hard.
They should have talked her out of it. They should have done something instead of offering to help, anything that would have gotten her to stay away from the battle.
The fight itself had been easy, at least their part. Once Aizen had made it to Seireitei he had been defeated quickly. But this—Minako knew this was waiting for her even if she didn't have to take part in the main battle. She had known the entire time and never said anything to them at all, only that she would need 'looking after' when she left her bankai form.
Bullshit.
Akane had been on a battlefield before. When she had served in the Gōtei 13 she had served under one of the noblest families in Seireitei, the famed Kuchiki shinigami. She had seen men die, seen battle wounds that would make a hardened soldier squeamish.
But she had never seen anything like this.
"Over ninety percent of her body—"
The taste of blood was metallic on her tongue; she couldn't tell if it was from the small wound she was creating on her knuckle or from the blood pooling around Minako, the scent of which hung heavily in the air. It was making her stomach turn, the small breakfast she had eaten that morning gone but enough liquid present to creep up her esophagus.
"I don't know, I've never—"
"But where is the bleeding—"
Her eyes shifted to the black sword propped against the wall near the bed. Hidaruma was covered in blood, and just letting her gaze fall on the sword brought back the horrific sound of his screaming combining with Minako's as they fought to regain human form.
The inhuman screaming would surely haunt her dreams for the rest of her life.
Fucking shinigami.
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10 Days Later
Yamamoto was pissed.
Anyone in the vicinity of the sou-taichou had heard his blustering the past few days, and his temper wasn't due to his missing arm. He was currently chewing out three of his finest taichou with another sitting patiently outside his office.
To anyone else Ukitake-taichou was calmly waiting for either his best friend or his sensei. That was what it looked like, at least, and the questionable look on his face was attributed to the maudlin thoughts he was voicing about the sou-taichou. That and the weird mood everyone had been in since the final battle; there hadn't really been any celebrating. Too many had been injured and close to death. Too many had died.
Ukitake-taichou was no different; that's how everyone but his third seats saw it.
He was acting out of character, that was for sure. They knew he had to be upset over his injuries as well as those of his sensei, but this was unbelievable. Rarely did the happy taichou they had come to know and love act like this, and they both thought that the statement of no one being able to replace the sou-taichou wasn't nearly enough to have brought about the level of morose behavior they had seen in him since the battle.
Maudlin was sometimes normal, yes, but not like this. He had even been drinking more than normal, joining his best friend every evening at a local teahouse.
It was the same with the sou-taichou. There was no way he was truly that upset about three missing haori. Perhaps the strain had finally gotten to him, or the fact that he had lost his arm. But missing haori? They doubted it. Something else was plaguing the most powerful group of men and women in Seireitei.
Of course, neither of the third seats had any possible way of knowing that their sou-taichou and their taichou were worrying about the mysterious disappearance of one female. They didn't know what Saskibe-fuku-taichou had told them about Aizen's short conversation with said female, and they had no clue that a meeting had taken place late last night in the Fourth Division concerning the chances of Minako's recovery without the aid of Unohana-taichou or Urahara-san, who both said it was very unlikely she would live more than a few days without advanced treatment.
They were clueless to what was building amongst the taichou; they only knew something was putting everyone on edge and it hadn't been explained to anyone without a white haori.
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Minako was still motionless in the small bed the monks had given her.
Akane was now joined by Isamu, although they would both have to soon emulate Chouko and Kenta and leave for the human world. The longer they stayed the more chance there was of someone sensing them or finding out that the monks were hiding former shinigami.
She truly didn't want to leave; Minako was in no shape to go anywhere and would not be coming with them for at least a month, probably more. The monks were sure it would take at least that long for her to wake up.
They didn't heal with reishi, they had told them over and over again. Herbs and bandages would keep her alive, but her recovery would be slow. They continued to explain that her outward appearance was not indicative of her organs' deterioration.
Isamu had told her that meant that her skin was healing—the black was gone and so were many of the blisters, leaving rough pink and red patches of blisters instead of the mottled burns that had been present—but her organs were in bad shape. According to the conversations he had overheard, her kidneys were not working properly and continuing to get worse. And her lungs were so charred she was barely breathing, barely taking in enough oxygen to keep her blood flowing through her body.
It all boiled down to the fact that Minako needed someone trained in healing shinigami, but there was no one they could take her to. Even Urahara was too close to Seireitei at this point. And they didn't know if he was alive, not in jail, conscious and able to help them.
They also had their own safety to look after.
The fight she had with Minako on the way to the monastery had run through her head a thousand times in the past few days, the advice she had thrown back at the older woman lingering at the front of her subconscious. 'Them or You.'
Did this qualify? Did she really care anymore?
She had been taught—even by the woman currently dying in front of her—that you had to secure your own life first. For Akane, that meant she should leave Minako here and go back to hiding in the human world. But—something kept her back.
Was this was Minako had felt? Was this why she hadn't killed the shinigami that heard Aizen's fateful remarks?
She was so angry at her, for everything at this point, but she also felt she finally understood what had made the woman hesitate. She knew the compassion that had stayed her hand. She might not fully agree with Minako's decision, but understanding was dulling the anger she had felt.
But a choice had to be made, and soon. The monks were getting antsy, wanting to take the patient into Rukongai or bring a healer here, and they would have to be long gone before that happened, with or without Minako.
And she still didn't know what to do.
The door to her right clattered open, the old sliding screen not nearly as smooth as the new ones in her apartment, and she sighed as Isamu entered with the herbalist monk that had been Minako's main caretaker the last week and a half.
Isamu nodded to her, stepping neatly to the side and leaning against her chair, while the monk, Hiro, checked bandages, puttered around the bed, and tsk'ed at whatever he found. His face, already rugged and lined from a long life lived in rough conditions, furrowed and scrunched in the late afternoon light.
"She is still not improving internally."
She looked up at Isamu as he sighed and nodded, and she wondered what they had been discussing this afternoon over tea—which she, a female, had not been invited to. The monks seemed to believe Isamu was their leader, a misconception they had let slide in favor of the treatment Minako was receiving.
"It is time for me to bring in another healer. Someone trained to heal such injuries."
"No." She was steadfast, and Isamu didn't argue with her opinion on bringing in another person.
The monk stared at her, his expression one of the deepest disbelief.
"She will die if you continue—"
"Shinigami cannot be brought here to heal her, and she can't be moved. You have to heal her."
The monk shot her a look, one she was sure monks were not even supposed to know. "Jo-san, I cannot heal her. I have tried. You must get a healer from the city if you wish her to live."
Isamu scoffed. "We have no money to pay them, and most of them are even more inept at healing than you are."
"There must be someone, surely."
"The only person is in the human realm, and you have said we cannot move her. He will not come here willingly, and we couldn't force him if we tried." Isamu sighed, biting his lip; she could tell what he was thinking.
"If he's even alive," she said gruffly. Isamu shot her a look but didn't refute her words.
"Either way, jo-san, she will die here without further treatment."
Akane looked at Isamu, defeat shining in her eyes.
"Well?"
"Unohana-taichou—"
"Cannot even be considered," she said fiercely. "They would all know where she is then."
"You know as well as I do that, even if we can get Urahara here, he can't heal this. Her internal organs are roasted, Akane."
The monk had perked up at the mention of the legendary healer of Seireitei, and there was a sheen of hope in his eyes.
"Unohana-sama could heal her, indeed. I do not know this Urahara, but Unohana-sama is revered far and wide for her techniques."
Isamu and Akane looked at each other, scowling.
"And which one of us is going to just march into the Fourth Division and ask her to come heal an AWOL shinigami?"
Isamu cracked a grin. "I could do it. I have at least twenty more accents they haven't heard yet. That and a haircut, maybe some dye, and they won't even know it was me."
"Yeah, and they'll be real suspicious when you bring them here and then disappear. And you really think someone in Seireitei doesn't know how well you and Kenta can copy speech patterns? Please," she said, disdain dripping from her words, "your old comrades would be on you before you made it through the gates. You're too high profile."
"It's the best idea we have right now, right?"
The monk stepped up, his hands pressed together in front of him and his head bowed.
"We can fetch Unohana-sama if needed."
The two fugitive shinigami looked at him with shock written on their faces.
"Why—" Isamu cleared his throat, "why would you help us? We're fugitives." He pointed to the bed where Minako's still form lay. "She's a fugitive. They won't treat her near as badly as us, but we're all fugitives."
"We do not involve ourselves in such matters. We help the injured, console the grieving, comfort the lonely." He looked up at them, his eyes gleaming. "Occasionally, we contact the shinigami for something we have need of. They do the same."
The monk moved slowly toward the door, the serenity he naturally exuded back in place.
"She will come if we call her. But we cannot keep them from arresting you—it would be best if you leave soon."
He shut the creaking sliding door as quietly as possible, and the two stared at each other before looking at the burned woman in the small bed.
They really had no other choice.
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A/N; This is officially the end of anything spoilerish regarding Bleach. From here on out everything is of my own design, completely AU. I am ignoring the current new arc in the manga and going in my own direction. After all, I was writing this arc when the battle was still going on this summer, so I didn't know everything. I've just gone back during editing and updated, added in the newer information.
Secondly, there were new characters introduced here. Some of them will play large roles, some will be supporting characters in the last half of this story. They are all original, mainly because no other exiles have been introduced to us in the manga except the Visoreds and Urahara's group. Unless you count Isshin, and I don't. We still don't have his story. So I created some. Same with Zero as they begin to pop up; we haven't seen any of them so I'm creating some.
And I've been thinking about changing the title of the story. It's no longer grabbing me. I rarely do this, but I've never liked the title and it's been on my mind for months. I'll make sure everyone knows if I do decide to change it. And if you have any ideas, feel free to shout them out. Worse comes to worse, I'll wait until the story is completely finished and posted before I change it, but at least this is a heads up to you all.
I've also been thinking about doing a Christmas chapter, although I'm not sure it would fit in with where we would be update-wise. Perhaps I'll do one and make it obvious that it's out of the timeline. I'm not sure. Anyone interested in that?
Finally, expect me to try to keep updating every ten days or so, but I will warn you all I'm headed into the busy part of my year. In my area the Christmas trade shows start this week, and then holidays, retail black period, and the end-of-year financial season. I'm a jack of all trades at a retail business; I do the books and the inventory control while also helping out with the trade shows and sales when needed. We also do framing and artwork, which is a big business around this time too. So I generally have very little time to do anything these last two months of the year, especially after Thanksgiving when I start cycle counting. I'm also in the middle of three major applications to work at universities and my GRE study, so I'm busy. Very busy. I'll try to keep up with updates, but don't worry if I fall behind. I will make sure the entire story is posted and finished. It's all done anyway, I'm just editing.