Winter War: Kuukaku: Holding Ground
Title: Kuukaku: Holding Ground
Arc: Winter War - an AU co-write with liralen and sophiap
Characters: Kuukaku, Ikkaku, and some others
Rating/Warning: PG-13 for language, references to character death
Summary: Old style nobility still knows how to kick ass. And when to take action.
Notes: This is a rather dark AU co-plotted with liralen and sophiap. The war against Aizen's forces went very badly. Nothing is sacred and no one is safe.
Links
1. Nanao: Winter
2. Ukitake: Waking Up
3. Ikkaku: What Is, What Was
Holding Ground
Kuukaku waded into the enemy ranks and casually tossed the leader aside. He still hadn't learned how to fall properly: he went down in a tumble of sleeves, hitting the ground with a painful-sounding thud and forgetting to slap and roll. Worse still, some of the others turned to look at him, rather than attacking together or even circling round behind her.
They didn't last long either.
"This is ridiculous," she snapped at the teacher, who was looking more than a bit embarrassed at his students' behaviour. "They're supposed to be learning teamwork! Aggression! Strength! What kind of fighting is this? Do they seriously expect to eat tonight?"
The teacher (she recollected that his name was Idoru, and that he'd been invalided out of normal shinigami ranks and gone into teaching at the Academy after developing chronic arthritis) sighed, and ran his fingers through his straggly beard. "Shiba-dono, I appreciate your feelings, but please. These are the youngest of the students we managed to get out of the Academy. Normally they'd just have been in lectures and basic practice at this point." He glared at her from under yellowing-white eyebrows. "You can't seriously expect them to stand up to you in a fight."
Kuukaku considered admitting that he might have a point, and rejected it. "No," she snapped. "I can't expect that. But I can expect some idea of how to gather reiatsu and how to work as a team when dealing with a stronger opponent. You!" She pointed at one girl who was picking herself off the practice mats and snivelling quietly. "You were round to my left. Did you even think of jumping me or going for my legs when I turned my back on you?"
The girl looked horrified. "But . . . but that'd be . . ."
"And if I hear the word 'cheating' or the word 'honour'," Kuukaku said warningly, "you are going to be scrubbing floors for the next three days."
The girl opened and shut her mouth a few times. She was young, Kuukaku acknowledged: young, pretty, bland, unformed, the sort of girl who should be wearing full furisode sleeves and dancing at festivals. Not the sort of person who should be here now.
But better here now than learning whatever Ichimaru taught his students.
Finally, the girl said, "I apologise, Shiba-sama." She bowed. "I didn't think."
Kuukaku sighed, and ruffled the girl's hair. "So think next time, brat. Now, all of you, next up we have taking down something above you --"
She broke off as the door rattled open, sliding along its tracks to slam into place. Her little brother Ganju was there. "Sister," he said with a hasty bow. "You're needed upstairs, now."
Kuukaku raised her eyebrows, but Ganju didn't say anything further. He had the oddest expression on his face, somewhere between delighted and heartbroken. He had been supposed to be out on patrol with his men, but frankly she couldn't think of anything he might have met out in the woods that'd have got this reaction from him. It looked as if she was just going to have to go along with him and find out what it was.
"Right," she said. "Idoru-san, the students are all yours. Work them hard and maybe they can have supper tonight. Ganju -- show me what this is."
Ganju led her through the subterranean corridors of the House. She'd relocated after Aizen brought his troops in and Ichimaru took control of Seireitai, of course, and she'd restrained her impulse to decorate the House the way that she used to. These days it was all underground and well hidden, just like the old days in the really antique history scrolls when there had been Hollows roaming all over Soul Society, before the Gotei 13 and before the Academy. It made a good base for hiding some of the people that they didn't want Ichimaru finding. Ukitake Jyuushirou had his own hideout elsewhere, together with the rest of his Resistance, but they stayed in contact, and on her side she hid people who couldn't be moved round so easily and didn't have the skill to hide themselves. The Academy students they'd managed to smuggle out who hadn't been competent enough to join Ukitake's people. The civilians who'd crossed Ichimaru or one of his pet shinigami. The elderly or retired shinigami who didn't have their old speed and strength, but who'd be a star turn in Ichimaru's newly-reopened Hollow Pits if they stayed in Seireitai.
It made for a crowded way of living. Kuukaku flattered herself that she hadn't let it get to her too much. Yet.
Servants and students followed her with their eyes as she swept past. As long as she was still strong, as long as some of the old nobility still remembered their duty, their gazes said, then they could still believe there was a chance.
She knew that other Noble Houses and other landowners were holding out on their own districts: they'd mobilised what forces they had and were protecting their farmers, and sharing any spare food with refugees. Ichimaru might hold Seireitai, but he didn't hold all Soul Society. This was what it must have been like in the bad old days.
(She'd heard more people say nice things in old Yamamoto Genryuusai's memory in the last few months than she'd done in her entire previous life. Poor old bastard. She hoped that somewhere, somehow, he knew he was remembered and missed.)
They entered a stairwell together, and for a brief moment they were out of everyone else's earshot. "All right," she said quietly. "What is it?"
"Madarame-san's here," Ganju said. "He's got prisoners."
"Prisoners? Here?" She'd thought the man had more sense than to bring possible enemies here. It'd be the devil's own job to move this place and everyone in it.
"Protective custody," Ganju said hastily. "We don't think they're enemies, big sister. Ichimaru's men were hunting them too, Madarame-san says. It looks like they've just escaped from Hueco Mundo. They could know something vital. And --"
"And?" Kuukaku demanded.
"One of them we know. He's one of the ones who was with Kurosaki. The big boy. Sado Yasutora."
Kuukaku blinked. "Right," she said, increasing her pace up the stairs. "I need a private room, Madarame can stay while we interrogate them, give his people something to eat and drink while they're waiting, make sure nobody talks about this."
"Already done, big sister," Ganju said, looking just a little smug.
"And you're guarding the door," she added.
His smirk turned to a pout. "But --" he tried.
She gave him her best glare.
"Yes, big sister," he said meekly.
---
The Sado boy was a wreck, and his blue-haired friend didn't look much better. Madarame was watching both of them, his hand casually near the hilt of his zanpakutou. He'd ordered one of the servants to fetch food and drink, and all three of them were eating as if they hadn't had anything for a week.
Sado probably hadn't eaten for longer than that. His big bones showed painfully under his skin. He had bruises all over -- some old, some new. Recent needle marks and the lines of blade incisions showed red along the insides of his arms. He moved with the careful slowness of someone who'd been abused or under battle conditions too long, and was deliberately forcing himself not to jump or twitch.
Poor kid.
The other one was a stranger. He had raffishly styled blue hair, and plain white clothing in expensive silk, jacket and trousers, cut to show his bare chest and arms. In between mouthfuls of rice he was staring round the room, his eyes vicious and watchful, clearly just looking for a fight. The mad dog type.
"All right," Kuukaku said, taking a seat on the cushions and waving Sado down as he tried to rise. "Good to see you, Madarame, gentlemen. But now we've got some questions to answer, and I hope that you're inclined to talk. By the way, Madarame, have you informed," she didn't say Ukitake but she knew that he'd know who she meant, "anyone else about this?"
"Sent a messenger," Madarame grunted. "She's fast. She'll be there soon. We found this pair out in the forests, being hunted by Ichimaru's pets."
"And Ichimaru's pets?" Kuukaku asked.
"Whaddyathink?"
Kuukaku nodded. "All right. Sado, have you had enough to eat for the moment? Can you tell us how it is you're here, and what happened?"
The boy looked up from his rice. They'd probably been starving him, if he'd been a prisoner. Hunger was one of the first ways to cripple a reiatsu-user's strength. "I'm sorry, Shiba-san," he said softly, deep voice uncertain. "I was very hungry. Of course I can tell you what I know, but I'm afraid it's not very much."
"Course it wasn't," the blue-haired man snapped. "You've been in a fucking cell these last few months."
Kuukaku looked at him. "And you are?"
"Grimmjow Jeagerjaques," he said with a sneer. "Sixth Espada . . ." Then he trailed off again, looking somehow uncertain.
"You ain't no fucking Espada," Madarame said. "No hole. Not a Hollow."
"Yes," Sado said. "He said that's part of what happened. It was what Inoue did. Though I don't think she meant to . . ." He pulled himself together and put his bowl down, lowering his head, and Kuukaku suspected that behind the shaggy curtain of his hair he was biting his lip and holding back tears. "You see, Shiba-san, Madarame-san, it was like this . . ."
There was a long pause. He took a breath.
"We went to Hueco Mundo," he said. "You probably know that. Kurosaki and Ishida and me. We were going to rescue Inoue. We got down there with Urahara Kisuke's help, and we met Kuchiki Rukia and Abarai Renji . . ."
Madarame nodded. "I'd heard they'd gone down there," he said.
"There were fights." The boy ground the words out with an effort. "We split up. We were trying to find Inoue. Then I met one of the Espada, a big one. Someone told me afterwards that he'd been the fifth one in rank. He had a big axe, double open blades. I . . ." He looked down at his plate again. "He beat me."
"Zaraki-taichou beat him," Madarame said, with the nearest thing to a smile that Kuukaku had seen on him for weeks. "Don't feel so bad about it, kid. If he was tough enough that Zaraki-taichou had to use both hands, then he was way out of your league. No offence."
"None taken," Sado mumbled. "But . . . anyhow, he beat me. Then I woke up to find Unohana-taichou healing me. Then she said she could hear something bad happening nearby, and she had to go and see to it, and would I be all right? So I told her I would." His words were coming more slowly now. "Then I was attacked again and this time Unohana-taichou wasn't there, and I woke up in a cell."
Grimmjow snorted. "I told them they should just have fucking killed you, but would they listen to me? Naah."
Madarame leaned forward. "You're not giving us much of a reason to keep you alive with talk like that, bastard!"
"Oh, I think I've got a better reason than that," Grimmjow said smugly. "I think I've got things you want to know."
"Let Sado finish talking first," Kuukaku said. She could see the boy was almost out on his feet. He'd need a healer's attention and sleep very soon. "So you were a prisoner. You know that we didn't do too well here either?"
Sado took a deep breath. "Yes," he said. "They didn't talk to me much while I was a prisoner, but their scientist, the eighth Espada -- he talked over me sometimes while he was doing tests on me." His lips tightened. Clearly he wasn't going to discuss those 'tests'. "Talked to other people while I was in the room. So I heard bits. And sometimes one of the Fourth Division healers would come in to patch me up. So I knew they were prisoners."
Madarame and Kuukaku exchanged a quick glance. When Unohana-taichou had surrendered Seireitai to Aizen, he'd taken her and her most competent healers back to Hueco Mundo with him in chains. It was a spark of hope in the darkness to know that they might still be alive there. "Were they able to tell you anything useful?" Kuukaku asked.
Sado shook his head. "There was always a guard there. And they had some sort of collars on. One of them whispered a bit. He said that there had been a battle, that Yamamoto-soutaichou had died, that there were hardly any of the Captains left . . ."
Kuukaku reached across and patted his shoulder. "It's okay, kid. We'll fill you in on the details later. But you can see that there are still people around who are fighting back. Look, you're tired. Just tell me the important stuff and then you can rest. Who's in charge in Hueco Mundo? Aizen?"
"Yes," Chad said. He looked up again. "I don't think I was important to him, so he didn't bother with me. I didn't see either of the others, Ichimaru or Tousen . . ."
"Tousen's dead," Madarame said briefly. "He and Komamura-taichou killed each other. Ichimaru's in Seireitai these days. They call him Soutaichou." He spat to one side to show his opinion of that.
"Madarame," Kuukaku said ominously, "you're free to spit whenever you hear the bastard's name whenever you want and as much as you like, but not on my floors."
"Oh. Right. Sorry." He rubbed at the wet patch with his heel. "Go on, kid. How did you get out of there, and in this company?" He nodded towards Grimmjow.
Sado's forehead furrowed. "I don't know the whole of it," he said slowly. "All I know is that Hisagi-fukutaichou --"
"That rat bastard!" Madarame came to his feet, his zanpakutou half drawn. "He doesn't deserve that title any longer!"
Kuukaku sighed. "Madarame, shut up and sit down. Sado, go on. Hisagi did something?"
"He came to my cell," Sado said carefully. "He told me to keep quiet and he led me through some passages I hadn't been through before. We came to one of the gates of Hueco Mundo, and Grimmjow was there. The gate guards were dead. Hisagi told me that this was where I got out. He said to tell you that he wasn't a traitor, that he'd never been a traitor --"
Kuukaku gestured urgently to Madarame to be silent. She could feel the rising burn of fury in him, but this was not the moment to interrupt.
"-- and that Komamura-taichou and Yamamoto-soutaichou had ordered him to play along with Tousen and get his confidence. He said that he didn't expect you to believe it. He said he wouldn't believe it himself. But he says that he can get some people into Hueco Mundo and that if you can trust him, then he will help you kill Aizen Sousuke."
---
Ganju helped Sado up the stairs, one arm under his shoulder. "Come on now, I've got you," he cajoled him. "We've got a nice bed for you to lie on, and a bath so you can get clean, and there's a healer waiting to have a look at your injuries." Granted it was an old granny who'd retired from Fourth Division a hundred years ago, but at the moment that was all there was. "You've done your bit. You can rest now."
"Don't need help," Sado muttered.
"Course you don't," Ganju agreed. "But big sister told me to help you, so I have to help you. Do you really want to go back down there and argue with her?"
Sado didn't argue with that, which showed he had at least some common sense left after everything he'd been through. Ganju got him to the landing with the spare rooms (not that there were many spare at the moment) and handed him over to the healer and to a servant who'd get him bathed and into bed, then turned to head back down to join Kuukaku again.
Of course he'd heard about Kurosaki and his friends going to Hueco Mundo. He'd hoped that maybe they'd even succeed. They'd got Kuchiki Rukia out of the Tower of Penitence. Could Hueco Mundo be that much worse?
It was being borne in on him that apparently it could.
He wondered what had happened to Kurosaki Ichigo, and to the thin Quincy boy in his spectacles, and pretty Inoue, and even Kuchiki Rukia. For his dead brother's sake, he hoped that she at least hadn't . . . no, he couldn't bring himself to hope that she hadn't been imprisoned, because then what had happened to her? He'd hated her for most of his life, but now, thinking about all the things that might have happened, he couldn't bring himself to imagine what could be the least bad thing . . .
"Excuse me," one of the shinigami students said, stepping into his path.
"Yeah?" Ganju grunted. "What is it?"
The young man bowed. He was well-muscled and fit, probably nearly ready to go out and join Ukitake's group. "Forgive me, Shiba-sama. I apologise for interrupting. But I recognised that person whom you were with just now."
Ganju frowned. "Oh? And who did you think he was?"
The young man stepped closer. "I think he was Sado Yasutora. Which means he knew my sister."
"Your sister?"
"Yes." The young man bowed again. "I am Inoue Sora. My sister was Inoue Orihime. She knew Sado Yasutora. I remember seeing him, sometimes when I was . . . watching her." A shadow passed over his face, and he hesitated, then quickly recovered, speaking with a growing urgency. "Shiba-sama, if you know anything about what's happened to my sister -- where she is, what's going on with her -- then I beg you to tell me. Please. I hurt her, and then I left her alone, and . . . if there is something that I can do, anything that I can do, then I have to do it."
Ganju looked Inoue Sora over. His first impulse was to box the idiot's ears and lock him up somewhere till he'd calmed down, but he could understand the fellow's point. She was his sister. That had to mean something. And, he decided conveniently, he couldn't let him go wandering around tossing Sado's name into everyone's ears.
"Look," he finally said. "I can't tell you anything for the moment, and Sado needs his sleep, so asking him won't do any good. Come along with me now, and help me stand guard, and we'll talk to my big sister when she's free, and we'll see what she says." Belatedly he remembered that he was supposed to be giving orders, not asking permission. "You got that?" he snapped.
"Got it," Inoue Sora said with a smile, and snapped a (shinigami) salute. "Lead on, Shiba-sama."
Well, at least he had some manners.
---
Grimmjow relaxed as Chad left the room, lounging back with an air of superiority.
"You're surprisingly relaxed for someone in the middle of your enemies," Kuukaku said, running the statement up the metaphorical flagpole to see how he reacted.
"I figure that I've got something you haven't got," Grimmjow said cheerfully. "That means you're not going to kill me any time soon."
"We could be the torturing type," Madarame said, with his best menacing leer.
Grimmjow snorted. "Don't bother trying that on me. I've spent the last few days with that kid. I've got some idea of what you people are like. Sure, you might kill me in a straight fight, but you're not like Aizen or Ichimaru or those scientist bastards. You've got something I want. I've got something you want. Let's talk business."
"I'd rather beat the crap out of you till you talked," Madarame snarled.
"Yeah?" Grimmjow leaned forward. "Well, I'd rather beat the crap out of you, motherfucker, but --" He cut off abruptly.
"But I don't think you can," Kuukaku said slowly. She could feel her mouth curling in a nasty smile. "I mean, let's look at the facts. You were running from Aizen's goons. No, you were running from Ichimaru's thugs. Petty shinigami who wouldn't last ten seconds in a fight against proper combatants. And you were running from them. Got anything you want to tell us about any little problems you currently have, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques?"
Grimmjow glared at her. "Bitch," he growled.
"Bitch who holds the cards," Kuukaku corrected him. She'd have liked to put him through the wall while she was at it, but she figured that bit of persuasion might be useful later. "So how come you're like this? Does it have anything to do with Inoue Orihime, like Sado-kun just said?"
Grimmjow settled down in his seat again, deliberately taking a few moments to fold his arms before speaking again. "Yeah. It was that bitch's fault. Figure she didn't even know what she was doing."
"What did she do?" Madarame asked.
Clearly Grimmjow had been wanting to complain to someone about this, even if they weren't the perfect audience. "Well, see, Aizen likes to get us upgraded any way he can come up with. So he'd told the Inoue bitch to see if she could use her powers to make me stronger." He shrugged. "Waste of time if you ask me, but what the fuck are you going to do? There's nothing to do except hang around and fight anyhow. So I met up with her in one of the practice rooms. Hisagi was guarding her that day. Usually it's Ulquiorra who's minding her, but he must have had something better to do, and everyone knows that tattoo-boy does whatever Aizen tells him. So," clearly 'so' was his favourite word, "Hisagi's by the door, and the girl's trying to use her powers with shields and whatever, but nothing's happening and I can walk through her damn shields anyhow. So I figure that maybe if I frighten her a bit then she'll use more power. So I get up in her face and personal and start talking about what I'm going to do to her and everyone else. And then something happens."
"What?" Kuukaku demanded.
Grimmjow scratched his head. "Fucked if I know. But fucked over is pretty much what I was. She screams that she's rejecting me, and then there's this big light and everything goes away. And when I wake up she's unconscious and Hisagi's looking pretty much like shit too, and I'm like . . ." He gestured at his hole-less stomach. "Like this."
"Big improvement," Madarame said.
"Well, yeah, you'd think so," Grimmjow muttered.
"And Hisagi got you out?" Kuukaku asked.
Grimmjow nodded. "He was a bit more together than I was, and the girl was still out of it. He comes over to me, and he says, 'You know what's going to happen once the rest of the Espada find out about this? You really think Aizen's going to do anything to fix you? He'll just promote someone into your place and hand you over to Szayel Apollo or Kurotsuchi to find out what happened.' Well, at first I'm surprised to hear him say just Aizen and not Aizen-sama, 'cause the last few months you wouldn't think he'd known how to say anything else, but then I think about what he's saying, and it seems to me that he might have a point. He gives me a moment to think about it, then he says, 'I can help you get out of here and get to safety, and you can rebuild your strength there. I'll cover up for where you've gone, say that you've gone hunting or something.'"
Kuukaku nodded. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Madarame leaning forward eagerly. Now that she thought about it, this did sound like the sort of story Eleventh Division used to love, and told in just the way they used to love it.
"So I think about what he's saying," Grimmjow went on, "and I think that maybe he's talking sense. And I also remember that he's never got on well with any of the other Espada or Kurotsuchi. So maybe he's playing a deep game and wants me to remember that I owe him a favour. Fair enough. I can handle payback. So I tell him yes. Then he says, wait, you're going to need to take along one of the prisoners. And I say why? And he says, because the best place for you to hide out is Soul Society, because nobody'll be looking for you there, and if you take along one of the prisoners and a message from me, then the shinigami who are still fighting Aizen will keep you hidden while you get stronger. But if you don't have someone to prove you're on their side, then that lot are going to kill you on sight."
"Got that one right," Madarame said.
Grimmjow shrugged. "So I figured that I did owe him one for getting me out of the place quietly, and this'd pay it off. He gets me to one of the gates and kills the guard so they won't talk, then he brings that Sado boy in and gives him that message he gave you, about how he wants to sell out Aizen to you lot. And . . ." He hesitated. "That's when I start thinking."
Kuukaku refilled his cup. "What did you think?" she asked.
Grimmjow glared at her. "I think, what am I in this for? I'm not in this for any sort of shit about Hollow triumph or making Aizen god. I'm not in this just because I want to kill you lot. I'm in this because I want to be the strongest. That's what I said then, and that's what I say now. What Hisagi said was right. Aizen wouldn't give two shits about me now that I haven't got the power to be an Espada. And it's his fault anyhow, for letting that Inoue bitch do stuff to me."
"You could have gone to Aizen and told him about Hisagi trying to betray him," Madarame said bluntly. "Why didn't you?"
Grimmjow sneered. "Haven't you been listening, fuckhead? What good would that have done me? Sure it could have got Hisagi killed, but it wouldn't have saved me! It wouldn't have got me my strength back!"
His tone sounded a little off to Kuukaku. But she couldn't see him as the sort of person who'd turn someone else in for treason. If nothing else, he'd probably consider it to be what "wimps" did. "All right," she said. "So you left Hueco Mundo with Sado and got here. So what are you planning now?"
"Well," Grimmjow said. "I think that's up to you."
Kuukaku raised her eyebrows. "Oh?"
"I know stuff." Grimmjow smirked. "I know a lot of stuff. I'm prepared to tell some of it. But I want a place to stay till . . . till I get better." There was something a little desperate about the expression in his eyes. "I think you can do that for me. But I'm not going to negotiate with a squad-leader or a jumped-up bitch running an oversize inn. I want to talk with the person at the top, and I'm not going to deal with anyone lower down."
"Fuck no," Madarame said. "You have got to be joking. Either that, or Inoue-san blew your brains out while she was patching up your hole."
Kuukaku was thinking very fast. "Two things," she said.
"What?" Grimmjow demanded.
"You may have something that might be useful to us. We're prepared to negotiate." After all, if what he'd said was true, then this was the biggest chance that the Resistance had had since it was formed. "But first you get checked for any surveillance. And you go to talk to them blindfolded. And you go when we say and how we say. You've got a bargaining chip, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. Don't push it."
Grimmjow thought about that. "Okay. I'll consider it. Second thing?"
Kuukaku rose to her feet in one motion, picked him up by the collar, swung him round and slammed him into the floor, then picked him up again and slung him through the wall.
"Don't call me bitch," she said.
Grimmjow pulled himself to his feet with a grunt. Ganju and some shinigami trainee were standing there further down the corridor, mouths open in fly-catching position. "Bitch-sama," he said. "Doing anything tonight?"
Kuukaku didn't dignify that with an answer. "Ganju!" she ordered. "This one stays under guard for the moment, but give him some more food. The poor moron's so weak and feeble that he couldn't even put up a fight against you."
Grimmjow's expression went from mildly amused (and aroused) to deeply, bitterly furious.
Kuukaku ignored him, turning back to Madarame. She waited till Grimmjow had been marched off before she spoke again. "Don't worry. I felt his reiatsu when I got hold of him. He doesn't have the strength to fight properly at the moment."
"But taking him to see Ukitake?" Madarame snapped. "Are you out of your fucking mind? The whole thing could be some sort of trap!"
"It could be," Kuukaku said. "But what if it isn't?"
"I don't like it," Madarame said. "They've tried lures before. Sado's honest, but he could have been lied to. He only knows what that bastard Hisagi told him. That one . . ." He frowned in the direction Grimmjow had gone.
"That one's no liar," Kuukaku said. "He isn't the type. Hell, he doesn't even know it's Ukitake-taichou he wants to talk to, or he'd have used the man's name. He'd never have turned himself into a weakling as part of a plot."
"So Aizen could have set the whole thing up." Ikkaku hunched his shoulders. "He's done stuff like that before. That guy who almost got word back, the one who took out Iba-fukutaichou's knee . . ."
Kuukaku sighed. "We screen them both. We have the kidou experts look them over. We strip them naked and dump them in a bath full of disinfectant. We set the meeting up at a neutral ground that isn't Ukitake-taichou's current hideout. We don't even let Grimmjow meet Ukitake-taichou at first. But we're going to have to do this, Madarame. We can't miss this chance." Quietly, she added, "Ukitake-taichou would say so as well."
Madarame muttered something which might or might not have included the words 'idiot' and 'moron' and 'damn all captains anyhow'.
Kuukaku patted him on the shoulder. "Let's get started," she said.
---
Arc: Winter War - an AU co-write with liralen and sophiap
Characters: Kuukaku, Ikkaku, and some others
Rating/Warning: PG-13 for language, references to character death
Summary: Old style nobility still knows how to kick ass. And when to take action.
Notes: This is a rather dark AU co-plotted with liralen and sophiap. The war against Aizen's forces went very badly. Nothing is sacred and no one is safe.
Links
1. Nanao: Winter
2. Ukitake: Waking Up
3. Ikkaku: What Is, What Was
Holding Ground
Kuukaku waded into the enemy ranks and casually tossed the leader aside. He still hadn't learned how to fall properly: he went down in a tumble of sleeves, hitting the ground with a painful-sounding thud and forgetting to slap and roll. Worse still, some of the others turned to look at him, rather than attacking together or even circling round behind her.
They didn't last long either.
"This is ridiculous," she snapped at the teacher, who was looking more than a bit embarrassed at his students' behaviour. "They're supposed to be learning teamwork! Aggression! Strength! What kind of fighting is this? Do they seriously expect to eat tonight?"
The teacher (she recollected that his name was Idoru, and that he'd been invalided out of normal shinigami ranks and gone into teaching at the Academy after developing chronic arthritis) sighed, and ran his fingers through his straggly beard. "Shiba-dono, I appreciate your feelings, but please. These are the youngest of the students we managed to get out of the Academy. Normally they'd just have been in lectures and basic practice at this point." He glared at her from under yellowing-white eyebrows. "You can't seriously expect them to stand up to you in a fight."
Kuukaku considered admitting that he might have a point, and rejected it. "No," she snapped. "I can't expect that. But I can expect some idea of how to gather reiatsu and how to work as a team when dealing with a stronger opponent. You!" She pointed at one girl who was picking herself off the practice mats and snivelling quietly. "You were round to my left. Did you even think of jumping me or going for my legs when I turned my back on you?"
The girl looked horrified. "But . . . but that'd be . . ."
"And if I hear the word 'cheating' or the word 'honour'," Kuukaku said warningly, "you are going to be scrubbing floors for the next three days."
The girl opened and shut her mouth a few times. She was young, Kuukaku acknowledged: young, pretty, bland, unformed, the sort of girl who should be wearing full furisode sleeves and dancing at festivals. Not the sort of person who should be here now.
But better here now than learning whatever Ichimaru taught his students.
Finally, the girl said, "I apologise, Shiba-sama." She bowed. "I didn't think."
Kuukaku sighed, and ruffled the girl's hair. "So think next time, brat. Now, all of you, next up we have taking down something above you --"
She broke off as the door rattled open, sliding along its tracks to slam into place. Her little brother Ganju was there. "Sister," he said with a hasty bow. "You're needed upstairs, now."
Kuukaku raised her eyebrows, but Ganju didn't say anything further. He had the oddest expression on his face, somewhere between delighted and heartbroken. He had been supposed to be out on patrol with his men, but frankly she couldn't think of anything he might have met out in the woods that'd have got this reaction from him. It looked as if she was just going to have to go along with him and find out what it was.
"Right," she said. "Idoru-san, the students are all yours. Work them hard and maybe they can have supper tonight. Ganju -- show me what this is."
Ganju led her through the subterranean corridors of the House. She'd relocated after Aizen brought his troops in and Ichimaru took control of Seireitai, of course, and she'd restrained her impulse to decorate the House the way that she used to. These days it was all underground and well hidden, just like the old days in the really antique history scrolls when there had been Hollows roaming all over Soul Society, before the Gotei 13 and before the Academy. It made a good base for hiding some of the people that they didn't want Ichimaru finding. Ukitake Jyuushirou had his own hideout elsewhere, together with the rest of his Resistance, but they stayed in contact, and on her side she hid people who couldn't be moved round so easily and didn't have the skill to hide themselves. The Academy students they'd managed to smuggle out who hadn't been competent enough to join Ukitake's people. The civilians who'd crossed Ichimaru or one of his pet shinigami. The elderly or retired shinigami who didn't have their old speed and strength, but who'd be a star turn in Ichimaru's newly-reopened Hollow Pits if they stayed in Seireitai.
It made for a crowded way of living. Kuukaku flattered herself that she hadn't let it get to her too much. Yet.
Servants and students followed her with their eyes as she swept past. As long as she was still strong, as long as some of the old nobility still remembered their duty, their gazes said, then they could still believe there was a chance.
She knew that other Noble Houses and other landowners were holding out on their own districts: they'd mobilised what forces they had and were protecting their farmers, and sharing any spare food with refugees. Ichimaru might hold Seireitai, but he didn't hold all Soul Society. This was what it must have been like in the bad old days.
(She'd heard more people say nice things in old Yamamoto Genryuusai's memory in the last few months than she'd done in her entire previous life. Poor old bastard. She hoped that somewhere, somehow, he knew he was remembered and missed.)
They entered a stairwell together, and for a brief moment they were out of everyone else's earshot. "All right," she said quietly. "What is it?"
"Madarame-san's here," Ganju said. "He's got prisoners."
"Prisoners? Here?" She'd thought the man had more sense than to bring possible enemies here. It'd be the devil's own job to move this place and everyone in it.
"Protective custody," Ganju said hastily. "We don't think they're enemies, big sister. Ichimaru's men were hunting them too, Madarame-san says. It looks like they've just escaped from Hueco Mundo. They could know something vital. And --"
"And?" Kuukaku demanded.
"One of them we know. He's one of the ones who was with Kurosaki. The big boy. Sado Yasutora."
Kuukaku blinked. "Right," she said, increasing her pace up the stairs. "I need a private room, Madarame can stay while we interrogate them, give his people something to eat and drink while they're waiting, make sure nobody talks about this."
"Already done, big sister," Ganju said, looking just a little smug.
"And you're guarding the door," she added.
His smirk turned to a pout. "But --" he tried.
She gave him her best glare.
"Yes, big sister," he said meekly.
---
The Sado boy was a wreck, and his blue-haired friend didn't look much better. Madarame was watching both of them, his hand casually near the hilt of his zanpakutou. He'd ordered one of the servants to fetch food and drink, and all three of them were eating as if they hadn't had anything for a week.
Sado probably hadn't eaten for longer than that. His big bones showed painfully under his skin. He had bruises all over -- some old, some new. Recent needle marks and the lines of blade incisions showed red along the insides of his arms. He moved with the careful slowness of someone who'd been abused or under battle conditions too long, and was deliberately forcing himself not to jump or twitch.
Poor kid.
The other one was a stranger. He had raffishly styled blue hair, and plain white clothing in expensive silk, jacket and trousers, cut to show his bare chest and arms. In between mouthfuls of rice he was staring round the room, his eyes vicious and watchful, clearly just looking for a fight. The mad dog type.
"All right," Kuukaku said, taking a seat on the cushions and waving Sado down as he tried to rise. "Good to see you, Madarame, gentlemen. But now we've got some questions to answer, and I hope that you're inclined to talk. By the way, Madarame, have you informed," she didn't say Ukitake but she knew that he'd know who she meant, "anyone else about this?"
"Sent a messenger," Madarame grunted. "She's fast. She'll be there soon. We found this pair out in the forests, being hunted by Ichimaru's pets."
"And Ichimaru's pets?" Kuukaku asked.
"Whaddyathink?"
Kuukaku nodded. "All right. Sado, have you had enough to eat for the moment? Can you tell us how it is you're here, and what happened?"
The boy looked up from his rice. They'd probably been starving him, if he'd been a prisoner. Hunger was one of the first ways to cripple a reiatsu-user's strength. "I'm sorry, Shiba-san," he said softly, deep voice uncertain. "I was very hungry. Of course I can tell you what I know, but I'm afraid it's not very much."
"Course it wasn't," the blue-haired man snapped. "You've been in a fucking cell these last few months."
Kuukaku looked at him. "And you are?"
"Grimmjow Jeagerjaques," he said with a sneer. "Sixth Espada . . ." Then he trailed off again, looking somehow uncertain.
"You ain't no fucking Espada," Madarame said. "No hole. Not a Hollow."
"Yes," Sado said. "He said that's part of what happened. It was what Inoue did. Though I don't think she meant to . . ." He pulled himself together and put his bowl down, lowering his head, and Kuukaku suspected that behind the shaggy curtain of his hair he was biting his lip and holding back tears. "You see, Shiba-san, Madarame-san, it was like this . . ."
There was a long pause. He took a breath.
"We went to Hueco Mundo," he said. "You probably know that. Kurosaki and Ishida and me. We were going to rescue Inoue. We got down there with Urahara Kisuke's help, and we met Kuchiki Rukia and Abarai Renji . . ."
Madarame nodded. "I'd heard they'd gone down there," he said.
"There were fights." The boy ground the words out with an effort. "We split up. We were trying to find Inoue. Then I met one of the Espada, a big one. Someone told me afterwards that he'd been the fifth one in rank. He had a big axe, double open blades. I . . ." He looked down at his plate again. "He beat me."
"Zaraki-taichou beat him," Madarame said, with the nearest thing to a smile that Kuukaku had seen on him for weeks. "Don't feel so bad about it, kid. If he was tough enough that Zaraki-taichou had to use both hands, then he was way out of your league. No offence."
"None taken," Sado mumbled. "But . . . anyhow, he beat me. Then I woke up to find Unohana-taichou healing me. Then she said she could hear something bad happening nearby, and she had to go and see to it, and would I be all right? So I told her I would." His words were coming more slowly now. "Then I was attacked again and this time Unohana-taichou wasn't there, and I woke up in a cell."
Grimmjow snorted. "I told them they should just have fucking killed you, but would they listen to me? Naah."
Madarame leaned forward. "You're not giving us much of a reason to keep you alive with talk like that, bastard!"
"Oh, I think I've got a better reason than that," Grimmjow said smugly. "I think I've got things you want to know."
"Let Sado finish talking first," Kuukaku said. She could see the boy was almost out on his feet. He'd need a healer's attention and sleep very soon. "So you were a prisoner. You know that we didn't do too well here either?"
Sado took a deep breath. "Yes," he said. "They didn't talk to me much while I was a prisoner, but their scientist, the eighth Espada -- he talked over me sometimes while he was doing tests on me." His lips tightened. Clearly he wasn't going to discuss those 'tests'. "Talked to other people while I was in the room. So I heard bits. And sometimes one of the Fourth Division healers would come in to patch me up. So I knew they were prisoners."
Madarame and Kuukaku exchanged a quick glance. When Unohana-taichou had surrendered Seireitai to Aizen, he'd taken her and her most competent healers back to Hueco Mundo with him in chains. It was a spark of hope in the darkness to know that they might still be alive there. "Were they able to tell you anything useful?" Kuukaku asked.
Sado shook his head. "There was always a guard there. And they had some sort of collars on. One of them whispered a bit. He said that there had been a battle, that Yamamoto-soutaichou had died, that there were hardly any of the Captains left . . ."
Kuukaku reached across and patted his shoulder. "It's okay, kid. We'll fill you in on the details later. But you can see that there are still people around who are fighting back. Look, you're tired. Just tell me the important stuff and then you can rest. Who's in charge in Hueco Mundo? Aizen?"
"Yes," Chad said. He looked up again. "I don't think I was important to him, so he didn't bother with me. I didn't see either of the others, Ichimaru or Tousen . . ."
"Tousen's dead," Madarame said briefly. "He and Komamura-taichou killed each other. Ichimaru's in Seireitai these days. They call him Soutaichou." He spat to one side to show his opinion of that.
"Madarame," Kuukaku said ominously, "you're free to spit whenever you hear the bastard's name whenever you want and as much as you like, but not on my floors."
"Oh. Right. Sorry." He rubbed at the wet patch with his heel. "Go on, kid. How did you get out of there, and in this company?" He nodded towards Grimmjow.
Sado's forehead furrowed. "I don't know the whole of it," he said slowly. "All I know is that Hisagi-fukutaichou --"
"That rat bastard!" Madarame came to his feet, his zanpakutou half drawn. "He doesn't deserve that title any longer!"
Kuukaku sighed. "Madarame, shut up and sit down. Sado, go on. Hisagi did something?"
"He came to my cell," Sado said carefully. "He told me to keep quiet and he led me through some passages I hadn't been through before. We came to one of the gates of Hueco Mundo, and Grimmjow was there. The gate guards were dead. Hisagi told me that this was where I got out. He said to tell you that he wasn't a traitor, that he'd never been a traitor --"
Kuukaku gestured urgently to Madarame to be silent. She could feel the rising burn of fury in him, but this was not the moment to interrupt.
"-- and that Komamura-taichou and Yamamoto-soutaichou had ordered him to play along with Tousen and get his confidence. He said that he didn't expect you to believe it. He said he wouldn't believe it himself. But he says that he can get some people into Hueco Mundo and that if you can trust him, then he will help you kill Aizen Sousuke."
---
Ganju helped Sado up the stairs, one arm under his shoulder. "Come on now, I've got you," he cajoled him. "We've got a nice bed for you to lie on, and a bath so you can get clean, and there's a healer waiting to have a look at your injuries." Granted it was an old granny who'd retired from Fourth Division a hundred years ago, but at the moment that was all there was. "You've done your bit. You can rest now."
"Don't need help," Sado muttered.
"Course you don't," Ganju agreed. "But big sister told me to help you, so I have to help you. Do you really want to go back down there and argue with her?"
Sado didn't argue with that, which showed he had at least some common sense left after everything he'd been through. Ganju got him to the landing with the spare rooms (not that there were many spare at the moment) and handed him over to the healer and to a servant who'd get him bathed and into bed, then turned to head back down to join Kuukaku again.
Of course he'd heard about Kurosaki and his friends going to Hueco Mundo. He'd hoped that maybe they'd even succeed. They'd got Kuchiki Rukia out of the Tower of Penitence. Could Hueco Mundo be that much worse?
It was being borne in on him that apparently it could.
He wondered what had happened to Kurosaki Ichigo, and to the thin Quincy boy in his spectacles, and pretty Inoue, and even Kuchiki Rukia. For his dead brother's sake, he hoped that she at least hadn't . . . no, he couldn't bring himself to hope that she hadn't been imprisoned, because then what had happened to her? He'd hated her for most of his life, but now, thinking about all the things that might have happened, he couldn't bring himself to imagine what could be the least bad thing . . .
"Excuse me," one of the shinigami students said, stepping into his path.
"Yeah?" Ganju grunted. "What is it?"
The young man bowed. He was well-muscled and fit, probably nearly ready to go out and join Ukitake's group. "Forgive me, Shiba-sama. I apologise for interrupting. But I recognised that person whom you were with just now."
Ganju frowned. "Oh? And who did you think he was?"
The young man stepped closer. "I think he was Sado Yasutora. Which means he knew my sister."
"Your sister?"
"Yes." The young man bowed again. "I am Inoue Sora. My sister was Inoue Orihime. She knew Sado Yasutora. I remember seeing him, sometimes when I was . . . watching her." A shadow passed over his face, and he hesitated, then quickly recovered, speaking with a growing urgency. "Shiba-sama, if you know anything about what's happened to my sister -- where she is, what's going on with her -- then I beg you to tell me. Please. I hurt her, and then I left her alone, and . . . if there is something that I can do, anything that I can do, then I have to do it."
Ganju looked Inoue Sora over. His first impulse was to box the idiot's ears and lock him up somewhere till he'd calmed down, but he could understand the fellow's point. She was his sister. That had to mean something. And, he decided conveniently, he couldn't let him go wandering around tossing Sado's name into everyone's ears.
"Look," he finally said. "I can't tell you anything for the moment, and Sado needs his sleep, so asking him won't do any good. Come along with me now, and help me stand guard, and we'll talk to my big sister when she's free, and we'll see what she says." Belatedly he remembered that he was supposed to be giving orders, not asking permission. "You got that?" he snapped.
"Got it," Inoue Sora said with a smile, and snapped a (shinigami) salute. "Lead on, Shiba-sama."
Well, at least he had some manners.
---
Grimmjow relaxed as Chad left the room, lounging back with an air of superiority.
"You're surprisingly relaxed for someone in the middle of your enemies," Kuukaku said, running the statement up the metaphorical flagpole to see how he reacted.
"I figure that I've got something you haven't got," Grimmjow said cheerfully. "That means you're not going to kill me any time soon."
"We could be the torturing type," Madarame said, with his best menacing leer.
Grimmjow snorted. "Don't bother trying that on me. I've spent the last few days with that kid. I've got some idea of what you people are like. Sure, you might kill me in a straight fight, but you're not like Aizen or Ichimaru or those scientist bastards. You've got something I want. I've got something you want. Let's talk business."
"I'd rather beat the crap out of you till you talked," Madarame snarled.
"Yeah?" Grimmjow leaned forward. "Well, I'd rather beat the crap out of you, motherfucker, but --" He cut off abruptly.
"But I don't think you can," Kuukaku said slowly. She could feel her mouth curling in a nasty smile. "I mean, let's look at the facts. You were running from Aizen's goons. No, you were running from Ichimaru's thugs. Petty shinigami who wouldn't last ten seconds in a fight against proper combatants. And you were running from them. Got anything you want to tell us about any little problems you currently have, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques?"
Grimmjow glared at her. "Bitch," he growled.
"Bitch who holds the cards," Kuukaku corrected him. She'd have liked to put him through the wall while she was at it, but she figured that bit of persuasion might be useful later. "So how come you're like this? Does it have anything to do with Inoue Orihime, like Sado-kun just said?"
Grimmjow settled down in his seat again, deliberately taking a few moments to fold his arms before speaking again. "Yeah. It was that bitch's fault. Figure she didn't even know what she was doing."
"What did she do?" Madarame asked.
Clearly Grimmjow had been wanting to complain to someone about this, even if they weren't the perfect audience. "Well, see, Aizen likes to get us upgraded any way he can come up with. So he'd told the Inoue bitch to see if she could use her powers to make me stronger." He shrugged. "Waste of time if you ask me, but what the fuck are you going to do? There's nothing to do except hang around and fight anyhow. So I met up with her in one of the practice rooms. Hisagi was guarding her that day. Usually it's Ulquiorra who's minding her, but he must have had something better to do, and everyone knows that tattoo-boy does whatever Aizen tells him. So," clearly 'so' was his favourite word, "Hisagi's by the door, and the girl's trying to use her powers with shields and whatever, but nothing's happening and I can walk through her damn shields anyhow. So I figure that maybe if I frighten her a bit then she'll use more power. So I get up in her face and personal and start talking about what I'm going to do to her and everyone else. And then something happens."
"What?" Kuukaku demanded.
Grimmjow scratched his head. "Fucked if I know. But fucked over is pretty much what I was. She screams that she's rejecting me, and then there's this big light and everything goes away. And when I wake up she's unconscious and Hisagi's looking pretty much like shit too, and I'm like . . ." He gestured at his hole-less stomach. "Like this."
"Big improvement," Madarame said.
"Well, yeah, you'd think so," Grimmjow muttered.
"And Hisagi got you out?" Kuukaku asked.
Grimmjow nodded. "He was a bit more together than I was, and the girl was still out of it. He comes over to me, and he says, 'You know what's going to happen once the rest of the Espada find out about this? You really think Aizen's going to do anything to fix you? He'll just promote someone into your place and hand you over to Szayel Apollo or Kurotsuchi to find out what happened.' Well, at first I'm surprised to hear him say just Aizen and not Aizen-sama, 'cause the last few months you wouldn't think he'd known how to say anything else, but then I think about what he's saying, and it seems to me that he might have a point. He gives me a moment to think about it, then he says, 'I can help you get out of here and get to safety, and you can rebuild your strength there. I'll cover up for where you've gone, say that you've gone hunting or something.'"
Kuukaku nodded. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Madarame leaning forward eagerly. Now that she thought about it, this did sound like the sort of story Eleventh Division used to love, and told in just the way they used to love it.
"So I think about what he's saying," Grimmjow went on, "and I think that maybe he's talking sense. And I also remember that he's never got on well with any of the other Espada or Kurotsuchi. So maybe he's playing a deep game and wants me to remember that I owe him a favour. Fair enough. I can handle payback. So I tell him yes. Then he says, wait, you're going to need to take along one of the prisoners. And I say why? And he says, because the best place for you to hide out is Soul Society, because nobody'll be looking for you there, and if you take along one of the prisoners and a message from me, then the shinigami who are still fighting Aizen will keep you hidden while you get stronger. But if you don't have someone to prove you're on their side, then that lot are going to kill you on sight."
"Got that one right," Madarame said.
Grimmjow shrugged. "So I figured that I did owe him one for getting me out of the place quietly, and this'd pay it off. He gets me to one of the gates and kills the guard so they won't talk, then he brings that Sado boy in and gives him that message he gave you, about how he wants to sell out Aizen to you lot. And . . ." He hesitated. "That's when I start thinking."
Kuukaku refilled his cup. "What did you think?" she asked.
Grimmjow glared at her. "I think, what am I in this for? I'm not in this for any sort of shit about Hollow triumph or making Aizen god. I'm not in this just because I want to kill you lot. I'm in this because I want to be the strongest. That's what I said then, and that's what I say now. What Hisagi said was right. Aizen wouldn't give two shits about me now that I haven't got the power to be an Espada. And it's his fault anyhow, for letting that Inoue bitch do stuff to me."
"You could have gone to Aizen and told him about Hisagi trying to betray him," Madarame said bluntly. "Why didn't you?"
Grimmjow sneered. "Haven't you been listening, fuckhead? What good would that have done me? Sure it could have got Hisagi killed, but it wouldn't have saved me! It wouldn't have got me my strength back!"
His tone sounded a little off to Kuukaku. But she couldn't see him as the sort of person who'd turn someone else in for treason. If nothing else, he'd probably consider it to be what "wimps" did. "All right," she said. "So you left Hueco Mundo with Sado and got here. So what are you planning now?"
"Well," Grimmjow said. "I think that's up to you."
Kuukaku raised her eyebrows. "Oh?"
"I know stuff." Grimmjow smirked. "I know a lot of stuff. I'm prepared to tell some of it. But I want a place to stay till . . . till I get better." There was something a little desperate about the expression in his eyes. "I think you can do that for me. But I'm not going to negotiate with a squad-leader or a jumped-up bitch running an oversize inn. I want to talk with the person at the top, and I'm not going to deal with anyone lower down."
"Fuck no," Madarame said. "You have got to be joking. Either that, or Inoue-san blew your brains out while she was patching up your hole."
Kuukaku was thinking very fast. "Two things," she said.
"What?" Grimmjow demanded.
"You may have something that might be useful to us. We're prepared to negotiate." After all, if what he'd said was true, then this was the biggest chance that the Resistance had had since it was formed. "But first you get checked for any surveillance. And you go to talk to them blindfolded. And you go when we say and how we say. You've got a bargaining chip, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. Don't push it."
Grimmjow thought about that. "Okay. I'll consider it. Second thing?"
Kuukaku rose to her feet in one motion, picked him up by the collar, swung him round and slammed him into the floor, then picked him up again and slung him through the wall.
"Don't call me bitch," she said.
Grimmjow pulled himself to his feet with a grunt. Ganju and some shinigami trainee were standing there further down the corridor, mouths open in fly-catching position. "Bitch-sama," he said. "Doing anything tonight?"
Kuukaku didn't dignify that with an answer. "Ganju!" she ordered. "This one stays under guard for the moment, but give him some more food. The poor moron's so weak and feeble that he couldn't even put up a fight against you."
Grimmjow's expression went from mildly amused (and aroused) to deeply, bitterly furious.
Kuukaku ignored him, turning back to Madarame. She waited till Grimmjow had been marched off before she spoke again. "Don't worry. I felt his reiatsu when I got hold of him. He doesn't have the strength to fight properly at the moment."
"But taking him to see Ukitake?" Madarame snapped. "Are you out of your fucking mind? The whole thing could be some sort of trap!"
"It could be," Kuukaku said. "But what if it isn't?"
"I don't like it," Madarame said. "They've tried lures before. Sado's honest, but he could have been lied to. He only knows what that bastard Hisagi told him. That one . . ." He frowned in the direction Grimmjow had gone.
"That one's no liar," Kuukaku said. "He isn't the type. Hell, he doesn't even know it's Ukitake-taichou he wants to talk to, or he'd have used the man's name. He'd never have turned himself into a weakling as part of a plot."
"So Aizen could have set the whole thing up." Ikkaku hunched his shoulders. "He's done stuff like that before. That guy who almost got word back, the one who took out Iba-fukutaichou's knee . . ."
Kuukaku sighed. "We screen them both. We have the kidou experts look them over. We strip them naked and dump them in a bath full of disinfectant. We set the meeting up at a neutral ground that isn't Ukitake-taichou's current hideout. We don't even let Grimmjow meet Ukitake-taichou at first. But we're going to have to do this, Madarame. We can't miss this chance." Quietly, she added, "Ukitake-taichou would say so as well."
Madarame muttered something which might or might not have included the words 'idiot' and 'moron' and 'damn all captains anyhow'.
Kuukaku patted him on the shoulder. "Let's get started," she said.
---