One Foot - Another Multiverse SI

[Ars Poetica]

I'm trying a different hour for my updates. I guess it doesn't matter as long as I update at all, right?

-x-

Tessai? Tessai, why were you wrong?

My thoughts were at best scrambled. Whatever plan I had had come and gone, now. The Soul Society had arrived, taking notice of Rukia's disappearance more than a month before they should have. Something had gone horribly wrong and I had no idea what.

But it had gone wrong in the worst way and I was panicking now.

The confident gait I had started with turned into a quick run to hide behind a vertical I-beam. Someone's feet hit the ground – this was followed by another pair of feet, heavier and less elegant. Byakuya and Renji had come and I had enabled this oh god…

I took deep breaths and forced myself to be calm. If either of them heard me, if either of them detected me, I'd be screwed. So, I waited. No sound escaped my throat; no noise was made as I leaned closer to the thick I-beam to make myself as thin as possible.

"Hey," I went still, "Mind explaining what's so scary about those two?" My eyes slowly drifted to my right. Ichigo was crouching behind several bags of gravel, just out of view from the Captain and his vice.

…Ignoring how impressive it was that he got to me so quickly, "Keep your voice down!" I hissed back, just under my breath, "If either of them notices us, we're screwed!"

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. Where was that lack of confidence? Where was that hesitation? He was not acting the part of someone who went through hell. Everything that he was doing now, every mannerism he exhibited was completely at odds with what I thought of him. Was I… wrong?

…well, when I put it like that, it sounds arrogant. I'd been terribly wrong on multiple occasions, why not now?

"Oh…" a thin, vicious smile crossed his face, "So if I call out to them, what would happen?"

"They'd kill us both."

Aaaand there he was! I wasn't sure if it was a good thing that I was right or not, but all that bravado and cheer vanished. "Seriously?" he whispered, "For what?"

"Bullshit." I murmured back, "They would kill us for bullshit."

His worried scowl deepened, "Why're they here?"

I considered telling the truth for a moment. They're here, Ichigo, to kill you and take Rukia to the Soul Society. But then there was a simple problem to consider. If I told Ichigo that they were here for Rukia, he would assume – reasonably, of course – that I had captured and delivered Rukia to them.

So I could explain that I was kidnapping Rukia to see if he'd save her, which would sound like bullshit because the Shinigami showed up to take her away. Or I could lie.

"I have no idea."

Ichigo exhaled and grasped his sword, "After we fight these guys… We're having a talk."

"…I just kidnapped Rukia and now you want to help me?"

His glare pierced me, "Help you? You kidnapped Rukia. If anything happens to her, if you've done anything to her…" he stopped himself, "But right now? Those guys feel way more dangerous than you."

"……You can't seriously be telling me this." Garbage, bullshit, hogwash, whatever you call it, that is what it was. Ichigo was being an idiot. Let me rephrase that: Ichigo Kurosaki was being a fucking moron. If I was anyone else, if I was serious about what I'd just done, he'd be leaving his back wide open to me and ripe for stabbing.

This was… wrong. Why would Ichigo trust me so easily? What could convince him that I was worth helping?

A beeping noise came from the two figures standing in the center of the construction site. Were they… tracking her? Were they tracking Rukia like some kind of dog?

The I-beam was separated inches above my head and flew, falling in front of me. Wide-eyed, I slowly looked up. Standing in a platform a few feet above me was a fat man with a stupid, purple collar.

Omaeda.

They didn't send Byakuya and Renji. No. They sent someone very different. If Omaeda was here, then the Captain they sent was… My head tilted down to look in front of me. Impossibly fast, impossibly quick, the Captain of the Second Division stood across from Ichigo and me.

Suì-Fēng. Mother fucking Suì-Fēng was here.

"Oh? Looks like a local Shinigami found him before us…" Omaeda trailed, "Uh, Captain, what should we do?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked her lieutenant, "Oi, rookie, back off from the Offender. We'll handle it from here."

Oh, good. They weren't here for Ichigo.

…Wait, no, bad. They were here for me.

Also: "Offender?" Thank you for asking the obvious question, Ichigo.

I took a moment to break down the word that was being used here. 'Offender' was what they were calling me. But, thinking past my automatic translation, it came out as something a little different. 'Togabito'.

…They thought I was from hell – no, they thought I was from capital 'H', Hell.

"It's below your pay grade, brat," Omaeda explained to Ichigo. "We don't know how he avoided Kushanada, but somehow he's found his way back to the world of the living. So, uh, back off." He pointed at me, "That guy's dangerous."

…what… what was happening here?

First off, they thought I was from Hell. Why did they think I was from Hell? Did I give off some kind of aura? The Visored couldn't detect me, so I must assume that I exude a different kind of power. Do the Togabito operate on such a different level that Shinji's group wouldn't be able to detect me?

…Wait, no. Not me. The Ghost Rider. The Spirit of Vengeance. A being that manipulated fire – hellfire… shit. Tessai might have tricked the Soul Society into thinking that Hollow activity had dipped in Karakura, but he didn't do anything to block any signature that the Ghost Rider's powers might have set off.

And hellfire? Fire directly from the pit of Hell itself? Yeah. That would do it. That would probably make them think something very different than what happened. A lot of people died and Hollow activity suddenly dipped at the same time that fires from the pit of Hell appeared in that area?

Of course they'd respond to it. Hell, of course they'd respond to it as quickly as they could with the best available to them. They wouldn't send someone powerful, they'd send someone fast to deal with this issue as quickly and efficiently as possible. Byakuya and Renji would be a terrible choice for dealing with a Togabito. But what if it was Suì-Fēng? The head of the Stealth Corp? The lead assassin in the Soul Society? Hoh, yeah. Now it was making sense.

I barely glanced at Ichigo, "Run, boy." And I pulled out my sword. I could feel Omaeda smirk behind me. I pulled out my sword and, at about that moment, Yoruichi appeared on the scene to push Suì-Fēng out of the area.

-x-

There was a time to make a comment about a cat fight and there was a time to pull out your sword and fight someone above your weight class in every way. This was a time for the latter.

Omaeda was a very large, wide man. But most of that size was not just fat; there was very real muscle under that. It didn't matter much since he had the power of a Vice Captain, but there was a definite weight to his strikes. My Asauchi could only block these hits so long before he overwhelmed me.

Sure enough, he lifted his leg and kicked me in the gut. I was launched back into a roll, but tumbled to my feet and stood to meet him. And Ichigo, that magnificent son of a bitch, burst in and attacked Omaeda with his impossibly large sword.

It should not be said that Omaeda was weak. It shouldn't and indeed mustn't be said. Because Omaeda was not weak… in canon, he was a joke, but here? To us? He'd might as well have been some kind of unstoppable juggernaut.

"You're helping that thing?" Omaeda called out in surprise, "Wait… Wait a second…" he connected the dots remarkably fast, "Your powers… they aren't yours, are they?" Ichigo's sword came down, but Omaeda stepped to the left and punched him in the face.

"Ichigo!" Oh goddamnit, Rukia. Why aren't you in the fucking van?

"Sting all enemies to death, Suzumebachi!" Suì-Fēng's voice cried out.

Oh right. Yoruichi was supposed to be guarding Rukia. But now, she was fighting Suì-Fēng, so Rukia probably got out of her bindings, and… Well. "Bloody bumfudge!" I charged Omaeda as he looked away and tried knocking him down.

It was like smacking into a goddamn rock. He looked down in disdain, "Disgusting." He kneed me in the gut and I doubled over, hugging myself. Ichigo was getting up again, readying himself for another charge. "A traitor," he looked at Rukia, "An abomination," he glanced at Ichigo. Omaeda lifted me up and tore the bag off my head. "And a Togabito. Got anything to say for yourself before I cut off your head? I'll let you beg."

I did have something to say, in fact! I looked him in the eye, opened my mouth, and explained to him with spectacular liquidity the wonder of three 'shiny deluxe specials'. My abused gut sang in relief even as my throat burned. He dropped me and backed away, coughing, spurting, and frantically trying to wipe it all off his face.

"Yeah…" I coughed, "Have a shiny day." And then he kicked me in the side of the head.

I rolled. But this time, I didn't get to my feet as quickly. I crawled as Ichigo fought Omaeda. "Rukia! Run!" Ichigo called to her, "I'll hold him off!"

…Oh, Ichigo, no. No, you don't get to have a heroic sacrifice. Not this soon, not for something as bullcrap as this. And you are not sacrificing yourself to Omaeda, of all people. It's not happening.

Ichigo's showing against Renji was deceptively positive. After over two months of experience as a Shinigami, Ichigo did a good job of fighting Renji despite not even knowing the name of his Zanpakuto. But after a week of experience, Ichigo's fight against Omaeda was dissolving into a brawl.

Ichigo's arms were wrapped around Omaeda's neck in a futile attempt to choke him out. Omaeda would have none of it. He heaved his shoulders and tossed Ichigo forwards into the bags of gravel before stomping on him. I heard something snap. "Let's see you try that with a broken arm…" Omaeda growled.

Filthy, distressed, and bothered in every way, Omaeda turned his attention to Rukia. "While the Captain is dealing with that other person… You're coming with me. I hear your brother's been looking for you."

I turned my gaze every direction, everywhere I could. My sword would not be enough, here. I needed something more, I needed a better tool, I needed a… an advantage to fight this guy.

Wait, stop.

Where was I? Looking around me, I assessed the situation. Was this something I could come back from? Sure. Would I have to do it quickly? Oh yes I would. But was it possible?

…Did I even need to ask?

-x-

In a large enough construction site, say the site of a future office complex, no amount of people would be able to do what was necessary without the proper tools. To every nail, a hammer – to every screw, a screwdriver – tools were necessary for each individual job.

And this was a construction site literally littered with I-beams. And to lift an I-beam you would need more than just human effort. You would need a machine. Preferably a mobile machine – and professionals of the trade would call a mobile machine something very specific.

To move around such heavy loads in a construction site, be it I-beams or gravel, you needed construction vehicles.

And as I felt the power of the rider seep out of me and into the vehicle I rode in, I grinned. Omaeda was opening a Senkaimon to take Rukia away? Maybe his Captain wouldn't approve, but since she was occupied at the moment and he apparently defeated us, there would be little backlash – that was probably his reasoning, if I had to guess.

Being occupied with getting back to the Soul Society, he only noticed when it was too late to respond that I was about to literally bulldoze him away. Dropping Rukia, Omaeda spun to meet the blade of the bulldozer with his sword. I can't imagine much further reasoning from him as he was preoccupied trying to slow me down.

Unfortunately for Omaeda, this thing would not be stopping for him. I bailed the bulldozer and left it to barrel him down into the main structure of the incomplete building. The sound of an I-beam being struck resonated as the vehicle, still aflame, continued to press into Omaeda. Finally, the beam snapped.

And with that beam, half of the structure of steel and iron feel atop him. The bulldozer crumbled beneath the weight of it all, but beneath that battered dozer, beneath those I-beams, Omaeda–

"Crush!" No. There was no way… "Gogetsuburi!"

He came in like a wrecking ball, throwing off the I-beams covering his body and walking past the cooling inferno of what was once my bulldozer of 'getouttahere' – the name needed work, but I'm sure that with time and effort – NO. How was he moving? How was he still going?!

Of course he was injured. From what I could see, his body was covered in bruises, some vomit stained his collar, and he was bleeding from the nose – it was broken, probably. His hair was frazzled, his uniform torn and ripped, but I couldn't see anything that would stop him… He lifted his spherical Zanpakuto wrapped in silver spikes and spoke to me, "I'm sorry."

It may have been the most foolish thing to do at that moment, but I let my guard down for the briefest second. "…hah?" I stared at him.

"I underestimated you." He explained to me, even as every step took him further away from the wreck of a building, "You didn't look or feel very strong, so I held back. And as someone who tells others not to underestimate someone for how they look…" he popped his neck and shifted his shoulders, lifting his Zanpakuto higher. It was only now that I could see the expression of incandescent rage on his face, "It was wrong of me to do it. So, for you, I'll stop holding back."

And he threw his Zanpakuto right at me.

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-10

 

[Ars Poetica]

Everything is on fire, now. Let's roast marshmallows!

-x-

If anyone ever tells you that dodging a spiky cannonball is easy – and there's always that one guy who does – slap him. Slap him in the face. Because dodging Omaeda's Zanpakuto was the most challenging thing I had done up to that point. Dodging it when the thing swung back in my direction was worse.

My legs protested, but I burst into a run to take me away from the swinging ball of death. Even as I ran, I knew Omaeda was faster. Soon, very soon, he'd get me.

The ball smashed into the ground just behind me, knocking me forwards first onto my knees and then onto my front. I climbed back up, but felt a large hand push me down.

Well. Well, shit.

With his other hand, he lifted the wrecking ball that was his Zanpakuto high above his head. That thing was coming down, I thought, he'd bring that thing down to smash my head into a crater.

That was, for obvious reasons, unacceptable. With my left hand, I grasped dirt and sand and gravel scattered all over the ground and tossed it over my shoulder. From the sudden yelp of surprise and feeling of a hand drawing away from my back, I got the fat bastard right in the face.

I turned to Rukia, still in a daze from being man-handled, "Hey! Ichigo's arm is broken! Think you can fix it?"

She looked at me like I was insane, but to her credit she was quick to understand the situation. I was distracting Omaeda. His attention wasn't on Ichigo. And she was the only person in the area who might, feasibly, be able to help him. Of course her answer would probably be "On it!"

…Huh. Things might have actually been looking up for once.

Omaeda slammed into me; the force of the attack bashed me against a vertical I-beam. Everything, everything hurt. On the bright side, Omaeda hadn't picked up his Zanpakuto again. But now he was getting ready to throw an I-beam at me while I was catching my breath in aching lungs.

Wait.

Omaeda was going to throw an I-beam at me.

MOVE!

It's remarkable, I reflect now, how much hurt and pain a human being can go through if the alternative is death. I'd already been hit by a train – I'd been killed before. It was not fun. And I would be lying if I claimed temptation at the possibility of being smashed like a watermelon by Omaeda.

Death at the hands of this man was not on my list of priorities. That was why, instead of gaping at his action like a braindead fish, I moved to escape as fast as possible. If dodging left or right was out, all that was left was up. So I jumped. I jumped as high as I could. Was it stupid? Well, yes.

But going left or right would have killed me all the same. Ducking would have made a smaller target, but that wouldn't have let me survive.

For the briefest moment, there was this weightlessness. It felt like I was never going to fall. But when gravity reasserted itself, my feet touched the ground faster than should have been possible. I stood and shut my eyes only to hear the impact of Gogetsuburi striking through another I-beam.

I opened my eyes.

Either I had grown taller by several feet, or I was standing on air.

Bullshit. I was standing on air, now.

"Bullshit," I whispered to myself in a voice barely audible.

Omaeda took the sudden shift from a two-dimensional combat area to a three-dimensional one in stride as he leapt up to meet me, but even as he did I stepped back to avoid his attack and felt myself descend back into the breaking skeleton of a building.

I could make platforms. I could stand on spiritual particles. I…

How was this happening?

No time to think, Omaeda was still after me. He tore through the structure above my head and came down so fast to tear me apart. I drew my sword to block his spiked ball on a chain and barely withstood the force of it.

Someone shouted. Ichigo was attacking? Ichigo was attacking.

His Zanpakuto's immense size might normally have been a hindrance, but he wielded it with surprising proficiency. Well, he wielded it as proficiently as he was able. In either case, there was no way that Ichigo's sword could cut through the ball that was Gogetsuburi.

Which was why, instead of trying that, he aimed for the chain.

It was thinner, weaker, and the best possible place to land a strike. Just as Omaeda drew his arm back to slingshot the sphere towards me, Ichigo severed the chain and, thus, the control Omaeda could have exerted on it. This thing that was once a ridiculous flail had turned into an uncontrolled bullet.

I ducked before it hit me and heard an impact of the enhanced steel on flesh. Looking up, I expected our opponent to be unconscious. Instead, he stood there. Unmoving. Solid.

In one hand, he held the ball of his Zanpakuto. With his other, he drew up the handle. The chain attached slowly floated towards the ball and, with a 'clink', repaired itself. Half-blind, he still glared at us.

Ichigo heaved, "Oh come on…" Lifting his sword again, he charged. That wouldn't work, though. Not with how our fight had been going so far. Omaeda blocked the incoming strike with the ball, holding it with both hands. "Oi!" Ichigo shouted at me, "Do that thing again!"

Eyes wide, I looked at him. "Hah?"

"That thing with the bulldozer! Do it with something else!"

Oh. Well. Why hadn't I thought of that?

It was easier to run out of the breaking structure when I could make platforms beneath my feet to jump higher and faster. I darted left, then right, then… "Oh. That'll do."

-x-

When Ichigo was punched out of the building, the rest of the structure finally collapsed. Like before, it did nothing to impede Omaeda as he stepped forward. If anything, it emboldened him. With all the dust in the air and all the crashing metal, I was surprised at the lack of sparks and explosions.

My new plan would be fixing that.

The crane's arm swung around, and attached to it was a partially liquefied hunk of I-beam, blazing with hellfire. Omaeda was lifted off the ground and swung around the pseudo-flail of fire.

I pulled on the controls of the crane and swung him down.

Enhanced by the power of the Rider, the industrial crane had become the flail of a titan composed of molten ember. The steel at the end of its incredibly long chain spun upwards, drawing the trapped and burning Omaeda closer to its arm. I got a good look at him as he brought his arm up, plunging it out of liquid metal, and broke the arm in half.

Impossibly, instead of just falling, he stopped himself and pushed the burning metal off of his body. Though scorched, he was looking far too well for a man who went through the ordeals he had. He glared at me. That was my only warning before the engine exploded from the force of a spherical Zanpakuto puncturing it.

My arm was numb as my consciousness faded in and out. The world was turning into a grim, darkening blur. And Omaeda, impossible, unstoppable Omaeda, was walking towards me. He wasn't standing on air, anymore. He didn't need to be standing on air to approach me.

Ichigo's attack was an unexpected surprise, but the valor of it all was lost to me. If before I was crawling, now I was just attempting to spasm. My legs were just not working. I rolled onto my good side, the side where my other arm could still move, and grasped at dirt to try and get away.

-SMACK!-

Maybe if I got something else? Maybe another vehicle? If I could get anything, anything at all, maybe I'd be able to stop him? Ichigo cried out in pain as he was beaten into the ground. The sound of him being smashed into the earth echoed throughout the construction site even as chunks of it caught fire from the wreckages of once functional vehicles.

-SMACK!-

I licked my cracking lips and thought. I thought hard. Did the rider really need to be on his motorcycle for it to be any use? With fire all around me, I could try just burning Omaeda. But, as I was, I just wasn't strong enough.

-SMACK!-

Begging the Rider for help wouldn't be worth a damn. He was beyond me. Absolute darkness. Imminent death. I had one part, probably, but the other was missing. The smoke from the flames was rising higher into the air. As low to the ground as I was, it didn't bother me. Or, I morbidly considered, maybe I was just immune?

-SMACK!-

It was a morbid thought, you see, because that would mean my numbness wasn't because I was burned, but because I was pulverized from the sheer force of the battering I'd suffered at the hands of the Second Division Vice-Captain.

I coughed blood. Was this where I'd go? Was this what would do me in? No. Not yet. Fire swarmed the construction site in its entirety, aiming for every vehicle still there, sweeping into them. The Rider didn't need to be on his Ride to bring it forth. He just needed his fire to do the work.

Omaeda, finished battering Ichigo, was interrupted in his trek to my fallen body by a massive backhoe loader. Blazing, burning, and incandescent with flame, the construction vehicle bludgeoned Omaeda from behind. Having none of that, he spun to meet the thing only for a hook to wrap around his leg and drag him back.

A positively immense excavator was dragging him backwards, wrapped around its shovel was the chain from the destroyed industrial crane. Omaeda swore and reoriented himself to snap the chain only for a forklift to interrupt him from the side, striking him with dozens of burning planks of wood.

Unimpeded, only further enraged, he still snapped the chain. Gogetsuburi was swung around and, with immense force, decapitated the shovel of the excavator, swinging back around to destroy it and the forklift.

Even as the burning backhoe loader returned to run him down, Omaeda's only response was to jump above it and crush the thing from above, flattening it with so little effort. Or, apparent little effort, as for the first time since the fight had begun, I finally caught him sweating. If the heat wasn't getting to him, the exertion of it all was.

"No more!" he stopped stepping and just charged me. But by then, I'd already found a new weapon.

A nail gun. Even enhanced with the fire of the Ghost Rider, it would probably not be enough, but I still shot him with it. I screamed wordlessly as I kept firing the burning nails at his mass, hoping to make this son of a bitch bleed. If I was going out, I was going to make him hurt as much as I could.

With a click, the nail gun ran out. Omaeda just stood there and glared at me. I'd stopped his charge, but it wasn't because he was injured. Far from it. The nails had almost all missed. Except for one, I noticed, which stuck out of his shoulder. My aim, it appeared, was horrifically bad.

"This… is pathetic." His glare intensified. I managed a grin. "What're you so happy about? I broke all your toys; your weapons are useless…"

I gasped in pain even as I shuffled myself into a better sitting position. "You'd think that…" I looked him in the eye.

He rubbed the back of his head, "What a pain… You've made this day hell for me, you know?" he asked. "I didn't come here to kill a couple of kids; I came here to deal with a monster. You're a pretty crappy bad guy." He considered the battlefield around us for a moment, "Annoying, but crappy."

"A bad guy, huh…" I pondered, "Well, at least I have something you don't."

"Oh yeah? What."

"Presentation." My grin turned shark-like.

From out of almost nowhere, my burning van came to the rescue. Blaring from its speakers was… Highway to Hell by AC/DC. It was the wrong song, super-van – still appropriate, but not quite what I was going for.

It didn't matter much as right when it hit the song's highest point, that was when Omaeda got a face-full of blazing windshield. It pushed him back only a few more feet before he lifted the van up and slammed it down as hard as he could. Its wheels destroyed, it still championed after him, trying to run him down.

He bashed apart the driver's seat, tore into the deeper parts of the van and ripped its steel frame to pieces. The thing collapsed bit by bit until he was left standing in wreckage. He looked at me, "Presentation? Yeah, no." He walked towards me, "Now, I've got you."

And with so little fanfare, with so little effort, Yoruichi appeared behind him. Her clothes were cut and torn, she was bleeding from a small gash in her cheek and side, and her shirt was barely useable, anymore. The entire back of it was gone, evident enough even from where I was.

She just looked at Omaeda. It was a look between disdain and surprise. He had enough time to turn and see her before she struck the back of her neck. With one hand and less than five seconds – three seconds, really. I counted. With three seconds and one hand, she knocked out Omaeda.

That was it, I thought. It was anticlimactic, at best. Ten minutes of desperate fighting, after dropping a building on him twice, blinding him, shooting him, throwing up in his face, throwing half a dozen flaming construction vehicles at him, running him over with a bulldozer and a van… and this was the end of it.

I resisted the urge to gape and failed. "Hey," she addressed me, "Poe… Are you alright?" My mouth moved to reply, but I could only spit copious amounts of blood. "Okay, you're not alright. How's Ichigo?" I coughed, "That bad? Wow…" she breathed, "Well." Looking around at the blazing construction site, she said what I thought was probably the most wonderful thing I'd heard all night, "Let's go back to Urahara's. I'll call for Tessai to help."

A blissful sigh, and then I was unconscious.

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-11

 

[Ars Poetica]

The cooldown before the heat. Or after? Meh. Whichever.

-x-

"He's not ready." Urahara's voice is what woke me up before anything else.

I opened an eye and shut it with a groan. Sleep was more important than anything else, right now. I still felt hurt, I still felt tired, and I was not interested in having this conversation. Urahara would have none of that, though.

A shout broke out of me as he poked my side once, twice, three times, "Stop that!"

"Oh, good! You're up!" he exclaimed with false cheer.

I grumbled, "Goddamn sadist."

"I might be a sadist, but at least I didn't lose a fight last night."

"I've been asleep that long?"

"A little longer, actually. Ichigo's been up for a few hours." He pulled out his fan, "You should go say "hi" to him."

"…Is that wise?"

"Nope! But he needs the company, and he won't hurt you if you're injured. Maybe."

…so he'd punch me in the face, then? Spectacular. "Can I even walk?"

"Well, you should be able to walk." A thought occurred to him, "You know, if you hadn't sent that mod soul over here, I probably might not have responded as fast as I did?"

"What?" well that was a surprise. Something went right for a change… "Didn't Yoruichi call you?"

"It would have taken too much time. So I showed up and watched the whole fight."

"You… You watched the whole fight."

"Yup!"

"…Without helping? At all?"

"I helped after!" Urahara protested, "And if I didn't, you would be much worse off."

…Good god, what an asshole. He could have helped at any time and he just sat back and fucking watched. This son of a bitch might have let us die by complete accident for… for reasons unknown!

"Aaaaand I heard that." I blinked. "All of it. You talk a lot." He said to me.

"Yeah, well…" I would have shifted my feet if I was standing, but as I was lying on a futon I settled for looking at him with what was definitely not embarrassment, "It was the complete truth! The complete and total truth!"

"…Your ears are red." He smirked, "If you were a girl, I might call that cute."

"Okay, no. Tessai! Help! Urahara wants to do bad things to me!" The large man was standing in the corner, holding and adjusting a notepad. With a lead pencil, he scribbled something down. I glared at him, "HELP!"

He looked at me. Then he looked at Urahara. Then he looked back at me. He gave me a thumbs-up and left the room.

Urahara grinned at me, "Tessai approves…"

I screamed.

-x-

Urahara is a dick. Urahara is a bastard. Urahara is an asshole. Urahara needs a bitchslap. Urahara…

The mantra of terrible things Urahara was ran through my head over and over and over again even as I walked throughout the Urahara Shoten to find where Ichigo was staying. I found him in the bathing area. For a moment, I was conflicted. It was completely normal in Japan to bathe with others, wasn't it?

Undressing, I wrapped a towel around myself and walked in. I was covered in injuries. Scratches, stitched up gashes, deep yellowing bruises, scrapes all over – oddly, I wasn't burned. But that was a small fortune when compared to everything else I'd gone through. It hurt running a brush over my body to get clean before entering the bathing area.

Luckily, I didn't tear anything open.

Ichigo was sitting on the other side of the bath from me. His eyes were closed. He was inhaling and exhaling calmly. He looked at me when I stepped in. I lifted a hand and waved at him, "Yo."

"You look like shit." And Ichigo looked great for someone who Omaeda literally walked all over.

"I had a gay experience with Urahara. Tessai took notes." I glared at him, "How was your day?"

He did a very good impression of a fish. Ichigo looked away from me, "That… That sounds like it sucks."

"It did." Staring, I asked my question again, "Your day. How was it?"

"Fine, I guess." He shrugged then winced at the motion.

I thought that, considering how good he looked, he was doing better than me. It was refreshing to see that he got hurt just as badly, the injuries were probably just aftershocks to him. "Still hurting?"

"Yeah… that Captain from last night was no joke…"

Uncomprehending, I looked at him. "…Captain?"

"Yeah. That big guy? He was like a… like some kind of tank. Nothing hurt him. He just kept going. How'd you beat him, anyway?"

No. There was no way. There was no way he didn't – "Ichigo, we lost that fight. Yoruichi bailed us out."

"Oh… She probably had a hard time, huh?"

"…She did not." I took a breath, "Ichigo, Yoruichi is Captain-class. She might be higher than that. That man we fought last night? He called that other woman with him "Captain". Do you remember?"

"Yeah…?" He didn't get it, "So, what, that big guy was an even higher rank?"

"No, Ichigo. That woman was a Captain. He was her lieutenant. That man was a Vice-Captain."

Eyes wide as saucers, he stared at me. I think I blew his mind just by saying that. "But… After all we put him through… That's… He's just a Vice-Captain? That guy was…"

"We lost that fight, Ichigo. And Yoruichi beat that man with one hit." I mimed chopping someone in the back of the neck, "Bare-handed, she took him out with the flick of a wrist."

"…no way… There's no way…"

Ichigo looked at himself, stared at his hands. He was probably having one of those internal monologues. It must have been very dramatic and interesting. But as interesting and dramatic as it was, there was no way I could let him keep going like that. So, when he didn't stop staring aimlessly for about a minute, I splashed him.

Sputtering, he looked at me again, "What the hell was that?!"

"Oh. Good." I nodded, "You snapped out of your little funk. That's great."

"My little – We got our asses handed to us last night! How the hell are you so calm about this?!"

"Calm?" I asked him, "Is that what I look like to you? Do I look okay?"

He stopped, "Well…"

"Because I'm pretty fucking far from 'okay'. I threw everything I had at that fat bastard and it didn't even slow him down. I was going to die, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Sheer coincidence is all that saved me." I took a breath, "If I hadn't kidnapped Rukia, those two would have gutted me and that would've been the end of it."

"…Why did you do that, anyway?"

Did I look wistful when I stared at the ceiling? "I did it… because I wasn't sure if you'd rescue Rukia."

"That's it?" When I glanced down, I saw him. Ichigo, livid, considering coming at me, "You kidnapped her… to see if I'd save her? That's why you did it?!" he shouted.

"Well, yeah. That. And I wanted to see if you could defend yourself." I pointed at him, "Pro Tip: You can't."

"Oh, and you can do so better…"

"Well, I can't." he blinked at that. "Oh, that surprised you? Look at me, Ichigo. We came in here suffering from about the same level of injuries, if I had to guess. You're almost recovered, but I'm a ways away from that. If I had that kind of healing factor, we wouldn't be talking this calmly right now."

"I'd probably be punching you in the face, right?"

"You'd probably be punching me in the face." I agreed. I shut my eyes and breathed, "Ichigo, I'm weaker than you. We've had powers for about the same length of time, give or take, and because of all the fights you've been in, your strength… it's been growing. Mine hasn't. I've been in two major fights, maybe, technically, three. You've been in dozens. But last night, if the Soul Society's best hadn't shown up, if we fought, I might have won."

"…But you just admitted I was stronger than you."

"In a straight fight, sure. But indirectly? Not so much. Would you have survived half a dozen construction vehicles and a van running you over? Getting shot by a nail gun? Being set on fire, dragged through molten steel, and having a building dropped on you?" I considered it, "Twice?"

He scowled. "No. I wouldn't have."

"See that? I'm weaker than you, I know I am, but I could still beat you. But Omaeda? Not so much. And those are the kinds of opponents you're going to have to face in the future."

If I could beat Ichigo right now with what I had available to me, then there was no way he'd be ready for a stronger opponent. There was no way he'd be prepared for a Captain or a Vice-Captain. Guys like those could plow through anything I had to hit them with, barring the Ghost Rider. And if Ichigo couldn't, what chance did he have against them?

"Why do I have to fight them? They're Shinigami too, aren't they?" he asked me.

"They want Rukia. And they will stop at nothing to get her. Last night? That was like a practice run. You've got maybe a week before the real thing. If you don't step up your game, they'll kill you. You will die, Ichigo."

"This…" he palmed his face, "This is fucked up. This is all just fucked up… Why do they want her? Why can't they leave her alone?"

"She broke their laws by helping you. Now they're coming to take her away. From their perspective, this is justified."

"You call that bullshit justified?!" he shouted at me, "She saved my life! She saved my sisters…"

I gave him a pointed look, "Your sisters…?"

"…" he looked downcast.

"Yuzu… She might be okay, in enough time," it was a terrible attempt at comforting him, "Maybe. Do you blame Rukia for her?"

"Of course not," he bit back, "How could I? It's my fault she was hurt."

"It was Grand Fisher."

"It was me! I wasn't strong enough! I couldn't beat him! So Yuzu was… she was…"

We were quiet for a little while after that.

This is what I saw. This is what I noticed. Ichigo Kurosaki was a Shinigami for all of a week and everything had gone to hell. His sister was hospitalized, the killer of his mother had gotten away, and he was bitter and angry and scared. He was a kid, a fifteen-year-old bottle of angst and struggling pain and he had no idea what to do.

"Let Urahara help."

He looked at me then. "What?"

"Urahara. He's strong. He can help you. You don't have much time, but if you ask him, he won't say no."

"I can do this myself."

"Clearly."

"You…!" he cut himself off. "You… You're right…" he sighed, "Goddamnit you're right… I need help."

"Glad you came to that conclusion." Now I just wanted to leave. Being in the same room with Ichigo was making me miserable, especially when I considered how what I'd done had affected him.

"Hey…" Ichigo looked at me, "You're going to help Rukia, right?"

"Hah?"

"Are you going to help save Rukia if she's kidnapped by those guys?"

I thought about it. I thought really hard about it. "No."

Surprised, he looked at me. "What? Why?"

"For one, I'm too weak."

"So am I. Just get stronger." That… that was a disquietingly decent point…

"You don't even know me."

"We fought together. We have the same enemy right now. You don't seem like a bad person." What an optimistic perspective on someone who might stab him in the back…

"I barely know Rukia – hell, she barely knows me."

"So?" Well! Now we were finally something that I could actually defend.

I looked at him, "So…? If you're going to save someone, or at least try, shouldn't you be invested in who they are? Shouldn't you have some idea of the person you're going to save?"

He shook his head, "That's not how it works. If you can save someone, if you're strong enough to help someone, why wouldn't you?"

"Why should I?"

"…That's a lonely way to live, isn't it?" It was an interesting way to say he disagreed entirely.

"It's living. Every day, tens of thousands of people die all over the world. Do I have the power to save them? If I did, would I? Should I? People shouldn't ask themselves if they should save people they don't even know. They should concern themselves with their friends and family. So far, helping you has helped me. Sort of. But helping Rukia? No way!"

"That's… a horrible life philosophy."

There were enough bodies on my conscience. Helping Rukia would only get her killed, wouldn't it? And we didn't know each other, anyway. Ichigo could help her without me. "Yeah, well, it works." I got ready to leave.

Ichigo considered something, "Well what if I asked you for help?"

"Why would you need to?" I called back to him as I dried myself off.

"…Because I might need your help? But if I did… if I asked for your help, would you?"

"You don't even know my name."

"I know that you're strong. And I know that you have an idea of what we're dealing with."

"I kidnapped your friend."

"And I'll hit you for that, later."

"…" I paused, "If, hypothetically speaking, you needed my help, and you asked for it… I guess I'd try."

Even from where I was standing, I could see Ichigo smirk. "Then will you help me?"

…Goddamnit.

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-12

 

[Ars Poetica]

Beans.

-x-

Dinner at the Urahara Shoten was rarely a quiet affair. But the silence at the dinner table – or I guess it was a second dinner table, with how atrociously late at night it was – anyway, the silence at the table was positively stifling.

Tessai stood at the door and watched us vigilantly. I was sitting next to Ichigo. Across from us, Urahara sat next to Yoruichi. To their right and our left, Suì-Fēng and Omaeda sat next to each other.

The rice was good, at least. "Hey…" I badgered the Captain, "Are you gonna eat any of that?"

Her eyes glanced down quickly to a bowl next to her cup of tea. She took a sip of it. "I don't care for it…" her eyes narrowed as she looked at me, "Do you want it?"

Was that a challenge? It didn't matter. "Oh," I said to Suì-Fēng, "So you don't want any. Are you not a… soy fan?" I held my shit-eating grin for a moment. "…Eh? Get it? Soy fan. Because your name is-"

Ichigo looked at me, "Really?"

My eyes went down. I'd have shrugged, but it still hurt to move. "I thought it was funny." I said while most definitely not pouting as I shifted the remaining rice in my bowl back and forth.

Suì-Fēng put her tea down and glared at us, "I will not help you."

"Would it be too much to ask why?" Urahara inquired.

"You know why." Suì-Fēng looked at him, "What you're asking me to do is treason, even assuming Captain Sosuke is the man you say he is."

"And Tousen," I chimed, "And sort-of Gin."

"…sort-of?" Ichigo murmured.

I looked over my shoulder at him, "Oh, you don't know." Should I have told him? Urahara was shaking his head and Yoruichi was looking at me with exasperation, so I guess I should tell him. "Yeah. One of the Captains, Gin? He's a double agent. Sort of."

"That's…" Suì-Fēng spluttered, "That's critical information!"

"I forgot." I smiled, "It happens."

"You… You forgot? How does one even…" she exhaled and composed herself, "Alright. You forgot. Now you remember. Explain, precisely, how Captain Ichimaru is a 'double agent'."

"Well, I would, but it really does depend on if you believe that Aizen's the bad guy." I took a sip of my tea. I actually hated tea, you know. But green tea had this texture and flavor that was close enough to water it didn't bother me.

Now the assassin girl was glaring at me. She grit her teeth, "Alright," her patience wearing thing, "Assuming Aizen is evil, which I personally think is a load of horse shit, why would Gin be a double agent? How would he be one?"

"Matsumoto."

"…Ah." Suì-Fēng considered it, "They have a relationship?"

"He loves her. And Aizen did something really bad to her." I looked around at the table, "My theories range from tearing away a part of her soul to just outright raping her, but either would be a good enough motivation for Gin to try offing Aizen."

Complete, baffled surprise crossed her face. Was this a rare occasion, flat-footing the head of the Stealth Corp so frequently? "…If that happened, it would have been fairly recent…" Suì-Fēng theorized, "But how would he have gotten away with it?"

"Because it wasn't recent," I shook my head and winced, "Ow…" Rubbing the back of my neck, I spoke again. "Okay, basically, this was from the beginning. Before Gin even joined the academy, he saw this. And he vowed to take him down – to get close enough that Aizen would never question it, and then he'd kill the bastard."

"So this is in no way sanctioned by the Soul Society?"

"…No."

"Then why should I believe you?" she asked, "We're facing the same problem, now. Burden of proof. Aizen has a Zanpakuto that causes absolute hypnosis? Okay. That's interesting, but not only is there no proof of this ability; there is no way to prove its existence. If Aizen's Zanpakuto can do what you say it can, then there would never be proof of its true abilities. How would you, any of you, even figure out what his Zanpakuto was capable of?"

"Well, I'm from the future–"

"Bullshit!"

Yoruichi sighed, "He's telling the truth." She gave me a pointed look, "From a certain point of view."

Suì-Fēng looked at her, "It doesn't matter if he's telling the truth! Not if there's no proof! How can I trust his word, your word – I…" she glared at us, "Even assuming Aizen is the man you say he is, and even if you're right and I do this… the Maggot's Nest would be the best possible outcome for all of us."

"Maggot's Nest?" Ichigo asked.

"Shinigami Prison, but worse." I answered for him.

"Ah."

"Suì-Fēng," Urahara trailed, "As interesting as your conundrum is, we have the bigger issue of what Aizen will do if he succeeds. Consider for a moment that we know what will happen to us if we do this. We would not be preparing like we are now, getting ready for this, if we weren't sure."

She looked at them, "You would risk an eternity in the Maggot's Nest over this? Over uprooting someone who may well be completely innocent of everything you're accusing him of?"

Urahara blinked at that. And then he chuckled. Then he laughed. "Okay. I get it. You just don't understand. You keep thinking of Aizen as innocent, you don't have evidence of what he's done, I completely follow that." He motioned to Tessai and the man stepped away from the door, "So leave."

"…Hah?" I looked at him, "Urahara, if we can get Suì-Fēng on our side in this, we'll be making huge progress against Aizen. I mean–"

"Poe." He looked at me, "Shut up." And he looked back at Suì-Fēng, "We don't need you if you're going to be that hesitant about this. If you really don't believe us, if you really think we're lying, we won't stop you. Go ahead and leave."

What… What was transpiring here? Suì-Fēng stared at him. She opened her mouth to say something, but then she shut it again. She opened it… and no words came out. I could see her mental cogs spinning, winding as fast as they could and nothing seemed to be functioning. In a roundabout way, this was a total shutdown.

Thinking about it, what Urahara just did here was brilliant.

No, really. It was.

He was giving Suì-Fēng an out. She knew that she couldn't beat all of us – well, she couldn't beat Yoruichi, Urahara, and Tessai. She knew that if she tried to just run, they could stop her whenever. So now Urahara was giving her the ability to just walk away.

Every major plan, the biggest secret imaginable… and by openly explaining these things, he made her an accomplice. If she left, any information she gave on what happened here would either be discarded or leave her thrown to the wolves for failing to do anything.

All the information that she got was useless, effectively speaking, because nobody would believe her. And if they did she'd be on the cutting board, too. The only solution would be for her to keep completely quiet. All the while, she would be watching her back for forces from the Soul Society or from Aizen seeking to silence her before she could say a single word.

She could try attacking him, but she wouldn't win. She was still injured from her fight with Yoruichi that she lost. And Urahara was stronger. Tessai was an unknown that she probably wasn't feeling confident against. But if she started anything here, she'd lose. Brute force was completely out.

Subtlety? Forget about it! She could keep this meeting a secret, but there were only so many lies she could pile on top of each other before she was finally caught. And when that happened, well…

With this one action, he had her. And they both knew it.

She stood and glared daggers at him, "…You complete bastard." she hissed.

Urahara smiled behind his fan, "Is that any way to treat your host, Suì-Fēng? How impolite…!"

"Captain…" Omaeda looked at her, "What are we going to do?"

She looked at him. It was like she aged from that one question. "We…" a sigh, "We're staying."

Reluctantly, he nodded. "Alright."

Ichigo spoke up, "Wait, what just happened? I thought you said you–"

"I know what I said." It was the first time she even acknowledged Ichigo that night, "And things have changed."

"Great!" Urahara chirped, "So, instead of waiting for another Captain and their Vice, we're sending Rukia with you."

Ichigo's eyes were like saucers, "What?!"

Yoruichi addressed him, "It makes sense, when you think about it. If Suì-Fēng brings back Rukia, then at least it will be happening on our terms. At the same time, we will have someone in the Soul Society who can help us break her out if things go badly." She looked at Suì-Fēng, "You're the Commander in Chief of the Stealth Unit. There are hundreds of well-trained specialists who follow your every order. If anyone could help us when we get to the Soul Society, if anyone could ensure that this goes smoothly… it would be you." She smirked, "No pressure, right?"

Suì-Fēng shook her head and palmed her face, "You're unbelievable, Lady Yoruichi…"

"I'll take that as a compliment." Her grin became radiant.

"This… This is nuts…" Ichigo trailed off, "I almost get what Poe was doing before," he gestured towards me, "But what's happening here is… everything could go wrong. What if this Aizen guy captures and hypnotizes her? What if she's killed?"

"Then we lose a ninja army tasked to help us turn the afterlife upside-down." I yawned, "Big whoop."

"How can you be so flippant about all of this?" Ichigo snapped at me.

There were several answers for that. First, I really didn't think Aizen would expect Suì-Fēng to so easily turn to our side. Second, I really did not believe that Aizen had a plan for a ninja army specifically tasked with usurping his every plan.

Third, we knew who each of our enemies were going in and could cause immense amounts of damage. Fourth, the kidnapping was happening on our terms and not the Soul Society's. We knew when it was happening, we could prepare for everything in advance, and in the meanwhile we had one of the best assassination experts in the afterlife here to assist us.

Most of all…

"I'm flippant because we can win." I said, "I'm flippant because, even when Aizen knew for a fact that you and your friends were coming for Rukia, he was confident that you could overcome the Soul Society. Think about that." I pointed at him, "The biggest, meanest motherfucker in the afterlife made a plan that could only work if you saved Rukia. He assumed, correctly, that you and your friends could accomplish what almost nobody had ever done before. I can't believe I'm saying this, but if you don't believe in yourself or your friends for this fight, then believe in the Aizen who believes in you."

He stared at me, "That's… You're just basing that on stuff that won't even happen, anymore."

"Better men have done the same and succeeded spectacularly." I smiled, "Why fix what's clearly not broken?"

"This is still a bad idea. I mean, Suì-Fēng could be…"

"Killed? Raped? Hypnotized? Tortured? Executed? Imprisoned?" Suì-Fēng listed off, "As head of the Stealth Corp, do you really believe that I haven't trained for eventualities like those? I am well aware of what may happen to a person in my position and am prepared for the absolute worst. Assuming I am caught, there is nothing Captain Sosuke could throw at me that would make me compromise anyone at this table."

"Well, that's great, then!" Urahara exclaimed, "I suppose that leaves only one thing."

One thing? Hm… Let's see: Suì-Fēng is on our side, now. We're doing another fake kidnapping, but this one will be real. There's probably going to be training for me to defend myself, obviously, and Ichigo will be improving… his… Shinigami powers… Oh. Right. That.

"What's left?" Ichigo asked aloud.

"You."

Suì-Fēng was not simply fast, she was a flickering wizard of light and nothing. One moment, she was standing still. The next, she was behind Ichigo. Whether it was with a knife or her Zanpakuto, she struck Ichigo and knocked him out, leaving him bleeding on the floor.

"One of these days…" I trailed, "We should really let Ichigo in on some of the shit we plan."

"Probably," Yoruichi conceded, "But not today. I don't think he'd have liked losing Rukia's powers this way."

I nodded, "Yeah…"

Telling him that we were going to make him stronger by making him weak and forcing him to start from scratch? That would have gone about as swimmingly as a rock in the ocean… or something like that. Goddamn water metaphors, I just don't understand them.

Not to mention, it wouldn't have helped anyone to let Ichigo keep Rukia's powers. At best, they were an unnecessary crutch. He didn't need them, he had his own.

Suì-Fēng looked at us, "The alternative was killing him or letting Captain Kuchiki do it. And since he wasn't available and killing the boy wasn't acceptable…" she shrugged.

Tessai moved out of the way of the door. Urahara was the first to exit, "Training begins as soon as Ichigo is finished recovering," he said to us, "Poe, you'll be gathering Ichigo's friends from around town. Suì-Fēng, Omaeda, I have a spare bedroom already prepared for you."

Say what you will about Urahara, but the man knew his priorities. Speaking of priorities, "Hey, Suì-Fēng…"

"…Yes?"

I smiled widely, "Are you sure you're not a soy fan?"

Even today, I still marvel at Suì-Fēng's throwing arm and the terminal velocity of a bowl of soy beans. On an unrelated note: Ouch. Ouch.

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-13

 

[Ars Poetica]

I like little girls, they make me feel so good~!

-x-

I stared at the driveway next to the main building of the Urahara Shoten.

"I was just as surprised as you, really…" Urahara trailed, "But you know what they say about gift horses, right?"

My slacking jaw clacked shut, "…How?" I finally asked.

"I have no idea."

Well. That was unhelpful. It wasn't surprising that it was unhelpful, but I wish it was actually something workable and… helpful. Because sitting right there, in front of us, was the most awesome van in the world. It was undamaged, untouched, and whole – completely at odds with the smashed pile of scrap it was last time I looked.

"You didn't fix it?" I asked him.

"Nope."

This was strange. This was… this was very strange. How the hell was that van sitting there? How was it in one piece? How was it – wait. Stop. First rule of Urahara Shoten? What was the first rule of Urahara Shoten?

"Okay then." I smiled, nodded, then got into the driver's seat.

Ask no questions. No matter how unusual, no matter how bizarre, if it is happening then it is happening. And you don't ask what you're looking at in the Urahara Shoten. You don't question the strange or unusual things. There's no time for that. So just go with it.

I left the driveway, Kon the hula girl was on my dashboard. "I… I thought this was blown up…!" Oh, poor, unfortunate Kon. Was he going to ask how this thing was around? Would he make the same mistake I did? "How?! Why?!" he cried.

Survey says: Yes.

My smile widened, "I don't know, and I don't care. Let's drive."

Kon screamed when I pushed the gas pedal as hard as I could.

-x-

While Ichigo recovered to be trained by Urahara, I had been tasked to find each of his friends who had accessed their respective powers to varying degrees. This was easier said than done. For one, I had no idea which of Ichigo's friends had developed their powers or if their powers would be the same as they were in canon.

Things had been altered so much at this point; it would not surprise me to find that someone's power was completely different. Entire strategies that relied on that power remaining the same could be tossed out the window.

In a way, the failed Rukia 'kidnapping' was telling. Things were not turning out the same way as canon and, in fact, were probably going to be very, significantly different. The question was where things would differ.

Urahara, in his infinite wisdom, decided only to give me a list of who I'd be looking for. Though the list was written in plain English, it left the issue of finding where each of these people lived.

First on the list of Ichigo's friends was Orihime Inoue. Since I did not know where she lived, I found myself in a slight predicament. It wasn't much of a problem, though.

My van of victory, parked on the opposite side of the street, cast a shadow on the phone booth as I flipped through the yellow pages. Occasionally, the street light above me would flicker.

The moment I hit the Romanji section, I smiled. Finally, I thought, something in alphabetical order that I could read. A grin on my lips, I turned to the "I" section and…

"…Hey, Kon!" I called back to the van. The window was down.

A plastic hula girl leaned slightly towards the open window, "Yeah?"

"How common a name is 'Orihime Inoue'?"

"Pretty freaking common, Poe!"

"…Huh." I looked at the yellowpages and contemplated my navel. And my wallet. And my spare change. "Hey, Kon!"

"What?!"

"Where's the nearest Laundromat?!"

"The nearest what?!"

"Laundromat! I need to make more change!"

"Oh! That!" a pause, "…How the hell would I know?!"

"…Huh." Well.

Shit.

-x-

"Okay, Kon," I explained to him as I dodged a drunk with my party van of fire and fun, "New plan. We're going to high school."

"At night?"

"At night." I felt the tires burn rubber as we rounded a corner and violated sixteen traffic laws. They were annoying traffic laws, anyway. Nobody would complain about it. Not. A. Soul.

With how late it was, I could count on one hand the number of people who were around and at risk of scary drivers. I was not one of them, of course. But in the event of scary drivers, there wasn't anyone around at risk.

It was a freeing sensation, just leaning into the gas pedal and shifting gears a little higher.

"Why?!" Kon gripped the seat next to me so hard I thought it might tear. Was I going too fast? I checked.

Oh my.

"Hey, Kon, how fast is, uh…" I looked again taking my eyes off the wimpy road in front of us, "How fast is a hundred forty-four kilometers per hour?"

"We're going how fast?!" he looked, "Good god, man! That's about eighty-eight miles an hour!"

As we made a turn towards the high school, I considered this revelation. "…We're not going to suddenly appear in the Old West, are we?" I screeched us to a halt in front of a red light so I could look at Kon. This was important.

"…No?"

"Great!"

Kon shifted, "You, uh, you never answered why we're going to a high school."

I shook my head, "Not a high school, the high school. We're going to break into Orihime's high school to find her picture, her home address, and her phone number! The casual stuff that friends know… those sorts of things…" I trailed off.

"That's… that is incredibly creepy." He stared at me.

It still hurt to shrug, but I did it anyway. The light turned green. I travelled through time.

-x-

Orihime Inoue, who lived in Karakura Town, went to Karakura High School. Surprise, surprise. Breaking in was easy. We didn't bother with climbing the locked fence. I just knocked it down with my van. I walked out, went up to the front doors, and cut off the chain keeping them locked.

Kon, perched on my shoulder, looked around the darkened school. "Aren't you worried that we'll be seen?!" he hissed in my ear, "You're not even bothering with hiding or anything!"

"The afterlife is run by the Men in Black, Kon." I gently explained to him, "I could run my van through a supermarket and Urahara would make people talk about that freak weather pattern. This?" I waved my hand around, "This is nothing."

"Well, sure, but isn't there a kind of spirit to this? I mean, shouldn't you be pretending to be sneaky?" I stopped, turned my head, and I just looked at him. I did not move. For a solid minute, I just kept looking at him.

"Dum-Dum… dum-dum dum-dum…"

Then I hummed a few bars. Kon was confused at first, but soon he joined in. My feet moved where my legs would take me as I started walking again.

It's amazing how fun breaking into a high school can be when you have a friend. It's more amazing when you just don't give any fucks about being caught.

I made a left, I made a right, and so it was that I kicked down the door to the school records room while we sang the Mission Impossible theme as loud as we were able. Well, Kon stopped when we went into the office.

But me? Well, still singing I proceeded to pull out all the student folders and shift through them, casually tossing manila folders over my shoulder and scattering papers all over the floor.

"Hey…" I breathed, "Hey, Kon."

"Yeah?"

"I can't read any of these."

Kon looked at me, "So?"

"None of them have pictures."

"…Again, so?"

I coughed, "I seem to have scattered them all over the floor, Kon. The files… they're out of order."

He glared at me. "No."

"Think you could just… dig around through them, and…"

"Oh my god, no."

"It shouldn't take long!"

"Goddamnit, Poe!"

-x-

Orihime Inoue's home was a small apartment in a relatively small, average complex. I already knew this, but it took breaking into her high school to find out where this apartment complex was. Finding her room was easy.

I could have knocked on her door. But, at this hour, she might not have answered. Thus, I climbed around and tried to break in through her window. "Kon!" I called down, "Hey! Hey, Kon!"

"Oh my god, what." The hula girl glared at me from the roof of the van.

"She locked the window."

He looked at me. "Are you… Are you serious?"

"Yeah, help me down."

"…No! Fuck that!" he snapped, "If you're going to break into a teenage girl's apartment, fucking break into a teenage girl's apartment."

"But… it's locked."

"Why would that matter?!" he shouted, "Why… How does that even factor into your decision?! You blew your way into her high school! Punch the fucking glass! I don't care! But I am not helping you down!"

"…Hm." I looked at the window. I looked at the lock. I looked back at the window. "It looks pretty solid!"

Kon threw a brick. I don't know how Kon threw a brick at the window, but he threw a brick at the window with his puny, plastic hula girl body. Fortunately or unfortunately, the brick bounced and hit me in the face. My balance lost, I fell backwards and hit the van of yo mama, denting the roof.

I tumbled off and hit the road.

Kon, wedged between my shoulder blades, got up and sat next to my head. "Okay. That didn't work."

"Ow."

"I mean… I was not expecting her window to be stormproofed like that."

"We're in Japan, Kon! Why wouldn't her window be stormproofed?!"

Kon shrugged. "I don't know. Why didn't you just wait until morning to do this?"

"…okay. Sure." I sighed, "Fine. Let's go with that plan." I got in the van, "I'm fine with that plan."

Kon looked at me as I started the van and pulled it around to the opposite side of the street, parking it. "Uh… Poe…? What are you up to?"

"I'm going to take a nap. As soon as Orihime leaves her apartment, wake me up."

"…Okay?"

I fell asleep in the back of the extreme van.

-x-

Orihime was walking out of her apartment, ready for school. She had a school bag, cute little hairpins, and holy crap I didn't think it was possible but her chest really was that large. I hit myself. No. Bad thoughts.

I got my van ready and pulled up alongside her. It was a straight road and traffic at this hour was low, so…

The side door slid open and I pulled out my sword. "Get in the fucking van!" I shouted at her, "In! Now!"

In retrospect, I really should have expected her to object.

"[[Santen Kesshun! I reject!!]]"​

…Well. Huh. This… was probably going to end poorly. "Kon!" I called as I stepped out of the van, "Take the wheel."

"My legs can't reach the pedals!"

"Wheel." I said again, "Take it." And I looked at Orihime, past her shield. She was staring at me. Watching my every move. She looked like she was ready to–

"[[Koten Zanshun! I reject!!]]"​

Shit. Just… just shit.

I rolled out of the way of the incoming fairy missile and watched with morbid fascination as it tore through the pavement. I smiled. He might be powerful, but he really was just a one hit wonder, wasn't he?

That's about when Tsubaki burst out of the pavement directly under me to deliver punishment to my spleen.

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-14

 

[Ars Poetica]

Vroom.

-x-

The fairy Tsubaki had a power that made it the thing of legends. Powered by Orihime's anger and righteous fury, or simply her desire to kill something, Tsubaki would generate a personal shield around itself upon entering a target. That shield would extend from inside target to split it in half.

If I had to guess, against substances as flimsy as concrete or asphalt, Tsubaki just carved his way right on through. When you combined the fact that no substance could deter his progression and that he was intelligent and, thus, capable of altering his own path in the middle of the air, you had a pretty horrible problem.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Orihime's gentle personality made Tsubaki not as durable as he should have been. This would often result in him being injured or even killed on multiple occasions. In canon, Hachigen was able to help Orihime restore Tsubaki even when nothing of him was left.

So when I drew my sword to block Tsubaki, my thought was that it would maybe hurt or kill the thing. Instead, I turned a block into a hasty deflection as, rather than being deterred by the presence of my Asauchi, Tsubaki just kept fucking going.

Where, I ask, did Orihime's gentle nature go? Did it go the way of canon, off a bridge and into a lake of fire? Because it certainly felt that way as Tsubaki's deflected form rounded back to come at me from behind.

This was not like how I'd imagine fighting Orihime would go. This was like fighting someone or something very different. I ducked to avoid Tsubaki, but it did nothing to stop him from immediately changing direction on a dime to go down instead of forwards. The change was an impossibly sharp angle, but it was a terrifying one to behold.

Leaping back to dodge would have been a fruitless endeavor since he'd just follow me, so I ran forwards. I shifted myself a little to the left, so that Tsubaki would pass under my arm and go behind me. Before he could turn again, I ran directly at Orihime.

Her shield was also a projection of her will, so the only way past it would be to break her will.

…since that wasn't happening, I did the next best thing. A platform was created beneath my feet as I ran at Orihime. Tsuback on my heels, I leapt over the girl and watched in the middle of the air as Tsubaki collided with her shield and – oh. Oh dear.

"[[Shiten Koshun! I reject!!]]"​

Instead of dispersing, he merged with the thing. The fairies repositioned themselves to form the shield above Orihime and right beneath me. And Tsubaki was blasted out of the center point.

Dispelling my platform, I flew to meet Tsubaki and deflected him with my sword to roll onto the girl's shield. Surprised, Orihime just called Tsubaki down to meet me again, but I'd already rolled off the shield and swept myself beneath the barrier before it could properly enclose her in a dome-like shape.

Tsubaki struck the barrier and merged with it again, but my sword was held at Orihime's neck. A small grin crossed my face. "That… was fucking terrifying." I said to her. She stared right into my eyes, her every motion speaking of unrelenting resolve. "No, really… I thought I was going to die…"

It was then that I noticed something. There were two other fairies forming a thin barrier going straight through her body. I thought about that. She had six fairies to call on, three normally were defensive, one for offensive, and the last two… were for healing.

But why would she have a healing technique on her body inside the shield?

"You could cut off my head," she answered before I could ask, "And I would heal the damage faster than you could make it." Her eyes were like flint as she looked up to Tsubaki, "None of my fairies can hurt me, not really. But I could have Tsubaki go straight through me and tear you in half."

"…And because I'm in this barrier, with you, I can't get out." I finished. "That's… That's just completely unfair."

She completely outmaneuvered me. Her shield could have opened as a dome from the very beginning of this fight, but instead it formed a directed barrier. Its purpose, its goal, was to lure me. While Tsubaki tried to kill me, the real purpose was to herd me into her barrier so I couldn't get out.

Her goal was to capture me, not to kill me. But if she did kill me, she could just heal any damage that was dealt before setting this up. It was a fight I lost from the moment it began and there was nothing I could do to get out of it… Goddamn. I got my ass handed to me by the white mage…

I'd have been pissed if I wasn't so impressed and confused.

"You're going to tell me, right now, what you did to Rukia…" she stopped. Then she sniffed me, "And why you smell like Ichigo."

Wide-eyed, I stared at her. Oh sweet holy fuck nope. Not even the sound of Kon crashing the van of hallelujah into a post office was enough to take my attention away from this. Abandon hope, all ye who enter here! There is no right answer, only wrong ones! Death flags had become imminent! The end was nigh!

"It was for a good cause," I began. Her eyes narrowed. Yeah, this wasn't going to go over well. "I'm, uh… I'm from the future."

"Oh?" her voice was bubbly, "That's really neat! I had a dream about that one time, you know?"

"…Cool?"

"Mm!" she nodded enthusiastically, "And, in that dream, he was also from space. And he said that he was from a world of robot dinosaurs – I didn't believe him, but then he showed me! There was candy involved." she smiled, "Are you a dream, sir?"

"…No?" As I was unsure how to answer, I tried going with the truth. "No I am not." My voice was mechanical to attempt to hide my increasing nervousness.

"Oh! Then…" Tsubaki flew down faster than I could blink to hover behind me and gently touch the nape of my neck, "Why are you fucking with me?" She was glaring into my soul.

A beeping noise interrupted her glare. It was, I recall, the Ghostbusters theme song. "I, uh…" I coughed. "Can I take this?" Her glare barely lessened, but she acquiesced. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a flip open phone. "Boss," I said to Urahara, "I found her."

He congratulated me and said that he expected my search to take much longer than it did. The note of condescension in his tone made me want to strangle the bastard.

"Well, I can't read kanji, and you never gave me her home address, so I had to go looking."

He informed me that because of my actions, school would be cancelled.

"Fuck school."

Then I was told that he had to mind-wipe half the police force.

"Fuck the police! Look, I found her. And now she wants me dead. Think you could…"

He asked me to hand her the phone. Carefully, I pulled it away from me ear and offered it to her. My every motion was as slow as possible to appear completely non-threatening.

"My boss would like to have a word with you." I wondered if this was what a gangster sounded like. Well, there was no way she'd mistake me for one. I'd never heard of a hitman who wore a work apron and blue jeans.

Eyeing me, she took the phone from my hand and started talking with Urahara.

"…Hello?" I heard Urahara's voice through the phone, but from where I was standing it sounded almost garbled. "Oh, Mister Urahara!" Mister? "Is Ichigo alright?" She knew Urahara? "Oh…" a sigh of relief, "That's good… that's…" he said something to her, "Eh?" she looked at me. Then she blushed. "Oh dear…" more things were said, "Right! But I have school…" He probably started telling her about my intrepid journey, "He what? Well… then… Can I meet you in an hour?" More words from the mad scientist. "Alright! Have a good day!" he hung up on her.

Tsubaki, resting on my neck, turned and looked at me. His fingers came up to his eyes, then he gestured at me – oh. He's watching me. That's cute. Really, it is. Even with the knowledge that I was almost destroyed by this thing and his master, I struggled to take his threat too seriously.

Now, Orihime on the other hand… "Can I have my phone back?" I asked her.

At that, she blinked. "Ah," she returned it hastily, took a step back, and bowed. "I am so sorry!" Tsubaki and her shields all vanished, "I had no idea you were sent by Urahara and I thought you were going to take me away and do bad things to me like you probably did with Rukia but you didn't and now I know where Ichigo is and I am so sorry…" she took a breath after that impressive sentence.

"Uh… I… forgive you?"

"Thank you!" and she hugged me. I… I was at a loss. What the hell just happened? What the hell was this? What happened to the terrifying 'yan-yan' Orihime? Why was she being so cheerful right now? What… I just…

Someone was shouting at Kon for running my van of wonders into the post office. "Hey, uh, you wouldn't happen to have one of those memory modifier things…?"

She reached down the front of her shi – nope! I looked away as she took it out. "I never leave home without it. It's been really useful, too!"

"Great…"

-x-

According to the man who operated the post office, he was attacked by a raging sumo wrestler. As I drove my van to Urahara's, Orihime couldn't help but take notice of my amazing driving skills.

"M-Mister Poe! You almost hit that boy!"

"No, no," I corrected her, "He almost hit my van. There's a difference."

"Like hell, there is!" Shut up, Kon.

My tires screeched as we made a turn. "Ah!" Orihime squealed and hugged her seat tighter, "This is…! How fast are we going, Mister Poe?"

"Fast enough." I answered.

Kon looked at her, "One hundred forty-four kilometers an hour." She paled. "You don't get to be afraid. I practically live in this thing and he's the only one who drives it!" the plastic hula girl snapped at her.

"I'm so, so sorry…"

"Less pitying, more talking." There was a sense of weightlessness followed by a heavy thump. "I told you I was from the future, if there's anything you'd like to know before we go to the Urahara Shoten…" another moment of weightlessness, another sudden thump, "Now's the time to ask!"

"Well…" Orihime shivered under her seatbelt – was it cold? It was the summertime, so that shouldn't be it… "You said you were from the future? So you were telling the truth?"

"From a certain point of view, yeah." I said to her. When's the last time I looked at the road?

"Then why were you so surprised at how strong I was?"

"Oh, well… You weren't this strong in the timeline I know." I shrugged, "Think you've got an answer for that?"

"…Maybe?"

"Cool." I put my eyes back in front of us and–

"WHY ARE WE DRIVING OFF A SKYSCRAPER?!!" Thank you, Kon, for your wonderful contribution to the group. You will forever be remembered for your wise words and helpful advice.

"Well," I explained calmly, "I wasn't looking at the road, and you don't like that. So I decided to take a route without roads."

"WHAT THE HELL KIND OF ROUTE IS THAT?!!"

"The scenic route." We started to fall before rocking with the force of gravity, striking a lower roof, "Besides, I've got this…"

"Could we go a little slower, Mister Poe?!" Orihime asked, or cried, as politely as she could manage before we leapt from another building.

"Well," I sucked in a breath, "Kon broke the breaks when he hit that post office, so…"

"We're going to crash?!" Orihime's eyes widened, "Oh my god…!"

We drove off another roof and hit the ground, "Don't worry, I've got this." I took one hand off of the wheel and looked at her, "Trust me. I'm a professional."

I crashed the miracle van through the wall of the Urahara Shoten. To give perspective on where we were relative to the wall we broke through, the tires were a few feet above the tatami mat, and Tessai's head was poking through the windshield between myself and my passenger with his arms wrapped around the front.

"…" he looked at me. Then he looked at Orihime. Miraculously, neither of us was hurt. "You need work on the landing." He said before throwing the kickass van out the way it came.

On the way out of the tatami room, I had the time to compliment his throw before reversing our way into the once pristine but slightly dusty storehouse. "We…" I announced to the occupants of the van of hell yeah, "Have arrived."

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-15

 

[Ars Poetica]

Put a quarter in. Pull the lever.

-x-

Even as the shell-shocked Orihime stumbled out of my van, I could see Urahara walking up to us, "Hello, Miss Inoue! Always a pleasure to have you over." He was all smiles and politeness.

"Oh, yes Mister Urahara," Orihime nodded as she got past her dizziness, "I just wish you called sooner. I knew it would be urgent, but if you just told me you were sending someone…"

"I'll remember that in the future," what was this fond tone of voice he was taking with her? "Luckily, I called just in the nick of time! Isn't that right, Poe?" he looked at me.

It felt like I was missing something crucial. "So…" I trailed, "You know each other?"

He blinked in surprise. "Of course!"

"…Well. Huh. Okay, then," I took a breath, "How, exactly, do you two know each other?"

Orihime looked at me and beamed, "Mister Urahara was a big help when I discovered my powers! Without him, I don't know where I'd be…" at this she turned her attention to the man, "You mentioned that Ichigo was…"

"He's fine. I'm actually training him in using his abilities properly…"

From there, they began to talk about Ichigo, Rukia, and – actually, let's stop for a moment. Why do these two know each other? How do these two know each other? From the way they're talking, they have known each other for a long time. Or, at least, long enough to be friendly.

Something wasn't right here and I didn't know what. Did Orihime discover her powers while he was nearby? If so, how did she become so proficient in their use? She was strong enough that I wouldn't put it past her abilities to take on Omaeda and, probably, come out on top.

This girl did not come across her powers last week. She came across them a long enough period of time ago that she had a chance to practice with them and increase their utility and versatility. I was, fully and wholly, unprepared for her to be so far above my proverbial weight class…

But Urahara wouldn't have sent me to get her if she'd try to kill me like that, right? He wouldn't have pitted me against her or sent me to grab her if he thought she'd be able to take me down or something…

"Why did you spook her like that, anyway, Poe?" Urahara asked me as we walked into his shop.

I looked at him. "Spook her?" I asked incredulously, "I… I honestly did not think she would try to off me the moment I showed up, boss. I didn't think she'd try to hurt me or anything… You…"

"You mean you didn't know?" Honest surprise flashed across his face. "You… didn't know how strong Orihime was?"

"Hypothetically, I knew how powerful she was, sure!" I said in reply, "But that was… That was Rip Van Winkle stuff she was pulling! I got Hol Horse'd like you wouldn't believe!"

"…That's interesting." He gave a slow nod, "So there are major differences in the timeline, then…"

I glared at him, "No, really?"

"Calm down," he waved at me, "I had just as little idea that you'd be surprised as, well, you. This is actually sort of shocking."

Orihime raised her hand, "Um, may I ask what's wrong?"

I felt like I was chewing on a lemon when I looked at her. "You kicked my ass is what's wrong."

"That's odd?" she asked, pouting. "But… I'm strong. I thought you'd be a lot more dangerous, so I didn't hold back…"

…She didn't understand. Of course she didn't understand; why would she? Why would Orihime understand that she was apparently stronger than she was in canon and I didn't know why? Why would she understand or even care about such significant changes in the timeline? How could she even…

"Normally," Urahara started, "I'd have us all sit in the tatami room so we could find out what's wrong with Poe's timeline again." I briefly wondered if this had become so common an occurrence that we'd developed a routine out of it. "Since Poe made that impossible with his…" Urahara looked at the van, "Perpendicular parking," he looked at me, "…we'll be heading downstairs to talk." Great.

-x-

It was massive and serpentine. It had no legs, only a massive tail like a spine reaching from its distended ribs. Massive arms reached through her window to grasp her, striking Tatsuki into the wall and rendering her unconscious. She was going to be eaten.

This thing, this monster, was going to murder her and she did not know what to do.

Desperate, she screamed for help. Nobody answered. The things mouth opened to show another opening mouth, ready to chew her body in half. Another cry to make it all stop and lights appeared around her.

This was the first time Orihime met her fairies.

A shield formed to protect her from the creature's attack, defending her from certain death but doing little to save her collapsing home. Tatsuki was still inside. Tatsuki was still inside and this thing killed her.

Her cry lacked words, only pain and rage. Tears ran down her cheeks as a light of shining gold ripped the creature in half once, twice, three, four – its mask was ripped away and – Sora… why…

It begged her to die. He begged her to die. And as it dissolved, Orihime desperately turned her attention to her ruined home. She called her fairies to attention to tear away the rubble and help.

Tatsuki was… paste on the ground…

But Orihime denied that. Orihime refused that. Tatsuki was dead but she was not dead because Orihime would not let her just die and it would be her fault – two fairies formed a field and everything went backwards.

Her home was fixed. Tatsuki was unharmed. And Orihime was–

-x-

"…When I met Mister Urahara," Orihime explained, "It was only a few days after… after Sora. I had been seeing Hollows everywhere and started fighting them, but I was getting overwhelmed."

"Naturally, I had to help an aspiring defender of Karakura." Urahara said with a wide smile, "What bothers me, though, is how surprised you are at this…"

"In canon, Ichigo stopped Sora from killing Orihime." I explained, "She never got this strong…"

He nodded, "I thought so. Something about what you said about two months of hollows in a week… it didn't add up to the Hollows Ichigo was slaying. I looked into it and then, when I added the Hollows Orihime was defeating to Ichigo's total, it started to make more sense."

"So… what?" I asked, "Because Ichigo got his powers late, Orihime got hers early?"

"Well, why not?" Urahara asked, "If one thing occurs, something else does not – if Ichigo never received his powers, would it be so farfetched to assume that someone would take his place?"

"Yes!" I answered, "That's just not how it works! That's like saying… If I didn't break my left leg after an awkward fall, I'd have broken my right leg. Well, there exists the chance that I could never have been injured or maybe something other than a leg would be broken, right? This is that." I looked at Orihime, "No offense to you, but I cannot understand how you got your powers."

"That's fine," Orihime shrugged, "I don't get it, either!"

"…right…" I drawled, "That's…" I pinched my brow, "Yup. That's just…"

"Mister Poe?"

I looked at the ceiling and considered what to say. "How do we even know, anymore?" I asked, "I mean, Orihime having powers? That's great. And she's stronger, too. Which is exactly what we'll need, but that leaves a couple questions. Not the least of those questions being, well, what bout Chad? What if Tatsuki has powers, now? Or…"

"Funny you should mention Chad." Urahara said, "Because we haven't been able to find him."

"…That's not good, you know."

"I'm sure it's not. But if he isn't available; and if we can't get in contact with Uryu–"

"We can't get in contact with Uryu?!" I held my head, "Okay. Shit. That's half the team gone. Um…"

"It's not that bad," Urahara sighed, "And I'm sure we can get Uryu in a few days." I just looked at him. "You don't believe me?"

"No."

"Too bad." He handed me a sheet, "Last time, your problem was that you couldn't read it and you didn't have a picture. This should help."

Turning over the paper, I looked at the other side. The face of someone I did not know looked back at me. "This is…?"

"Oh?" Urahara looked at me, "You don't know him?"

"I've never met him. His name rings a bell, but…"

"Hmm."

Orihime piped up, "Excuse me, but… if Poe is going to get someone to help with this plan, um… maybe I should go with him?"

I looked at her, "You want to get in the van?"

Rapidly she shook her head, "No, no, no! We can, uh…" she thought about it, "We can walk! Walking is a healthy activity! And driving is, um…" Exciting? Adventurous? Fun? "…not how I want to do this." She finished with a nervous laugh.

I stared, "…Suit yourself." And I started walking out. Orihime followed not far behind.

"So who are we looking for, now?" she asked me.

I considered how to answer that. The name under his picture, even when it was written in Romanji, I struggled to pronounce it. "Shishgo? No, that's not an 'o'…" I bit my lip, "That's… That's the darndest thing…"

"May I try?" she held a hand out for the picture. Giving it over, she looked at it, "Hm? His name is… Moe Sushigawara."

…Moe Shishigawara. Where had I heard that name?

Oh right. He was a Fullbringer. He was a Fullbringer with the power to alter probability and guarantee a perfect strike on anything he punched… or something like that. This raised two questions.

First, why not Chad? I knew at that point that Urahara had no idea where Chad was, which was weird enough by itself. But why was I being sent after Moe? More than that, what was happening with Uryu?

Ichigo was in the middle of his Shinigami training, Orihime was right next to me, Chad was missing in action, Uryu was… if I had to guess, Uryu was still being dressed down or otherwise punished by his father for the bullshit that transpired only a few days ago.

While I could get behind that in most other circumstances, we really did need a reliable long-range specialist and Orihime, while strong at medium range; I couldn't imagine she was powerful at a long range. Actually…

"Orihime," I looked at her, "How far out can you get Tsubaki?"

"Oh? Well, Tsubaki can reach from here to about… a little over three hundred centimeters from me?"

…What was that? Around ten feet? It wasn't a large distance by any means, but it was certainly useful. Against someone like Shishigawara, that'd be very useful. But we'd still be short a long-distance expert.

And that would be… not good? It was an understatement to be sure, but it was completely true. We'd be going in half-cocked. Even with the knowledge that Rukia would be going to the Soul Society on our terms, I had the strangest feeling that we needed a better team to retrieve her and beat Aizen down.

Or, well, something.

The plan so far was something of an improvised mess. We knew the Stealth Corps would be on our side, which was great! But even with that, we would be facing a veritable army of trained Shinigami with a troupe of ninjas. We'd need a better edge, an extra foothold to work from.

But from there, the goal wouldn't just be to rescue Rukia; it would be to expose Aizen. And since the only way for Aizen to get to Rukia would be for him to expose himself, well, we'd be using Rukia as a kind of bait.

The plan was still to rescue her, but we'd need to do this perfectly because we had no idea how Aizen would react to the changes that had occurred so far. The Hogyoku was a major part of his plans, after all. So he couldn't just let Rukia be captured. At the same time, we couldn't risk the chance that he'd just kill Rukia himself and take the Hogyoku out of her cooling body.

In canon, there was something that prevented him from doing that. But here, maybe there wasn't. So much had already changed that none of us could be entirely sure.

After Aizen's exposure, we'd take him out. Or something. But until then, we needed recruits. And Shishigawara, somehow, someway, had become a recruit to take Chad's place.

God help us all.

I sat in the van of oh baby and waited for Orihime to get in. Hesitantly, she did so and buckled her seatbelt. "We've got his address, his name, and his picture."

Kon looked up from the dashboard at us, "We're leaving again? Already?"

"Yes, Kon," I addressed the hula girl, "Yes we are."

With Chad temporarily out of the picture, until any of us figured out where he went, Shishigawara would have to do. Uryu was still a firm 'maybe'. Orihime had been recruited successfully… Adding me into Ichigo's group made something that was ultimately larger than the original team, but we'd get the job done. Hopefully.

I reversed the splatter-van and floored the gas. Right now, we had a mission. And, hey, it was Shishigawara, the weakest user of Fullbring in canon. Orihime was a hell of a surprise, but this? This guy wouldn't be an issue at all!

…maybe.

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-16

 

[Ars Poetica]

I don't always threaten to get my dorm mate kicked out of the building, but when I do, he bribes me with his computer.

-x-

"If you don't mind me asking…"

"I don't."

"Oh, good, well, what exactly is your plan for recruiting Shigagawaru?"

"Shishigawara," I corrected Orihime with a sidelong look, "Is going to get in the fucking van."

She blinked at my brilliance, "That is… simple." She smiled, "But, and while I'm sure that works very often–"

"Every time, actually," I looked at her. "If I want to get someone some place, I tell them to get in the fucking van. And, surprisingly, they get in the fucking van." Looking ahead of me I nodded at a wall, "It really is impressive, in hindsight."

"…I'm sure." Orihime flatly gazed at my nonplussed expression, "But, maybe this time we can approach him in a more… delicate manner?"

"…Delicate?"

"Well, when you tried to bring me to Urahara's, I did not see an employee of a valued friend."

"…What did you see instead?" Please don't compliment me, I thought to myself. I was too old for her. I was way too old for her. If she hit on me, it wouldn't just be creepy; it'd be disturbing on multiple levels. Actually, wait, why would she hit on me? Was she thinking of abandoning Ichigo? But she liked him, didn't she? "I'm not interested in a relationship. You should ask Ichigo out."

She went beat red. "That's…"

"Maybe take him to the movies or something." I suggested, "What's playing now? Actually, no, scratch that. Don't take my opinion right now. I have no opinion." Fuck romance, stay in the subplot area where you belong!

"…I think you're getting ahead of what I'm saying…" she trailed, "And I'm not sure where this came from, but–"

"He's saying you have amazing boobs!" Kon cried out.

If there was a deer in a forest far, far away from here, it would have perked up its head to listen for the sound of impending death. To others, this sound would be called silence. To the occupants of the magic van, that sound was Orihime's gentle exhale as she looked at the hula girl on the dashboard.

I said no words as Orihime specifically corrected Kon's line of reasoning. Now, Kon and Orihime on the other hand…

"Don't worry! This will only hurt for… a few hours…? I wouldn't know. I've never popped someone's arm off, before!"

"OH GOD WHY?! WHY DOES IT HURT?!" the sound of cheap plastic striking the side of the door resonated throughout the alley I'd parked the wonder van.

"I am doing this because I care!"

-Thump!-

-Thump!-

-Thump!-

-x-

"In all seriousness," Orihime continued, "You can't just barge in and pull Shigashiworu into your van. It's strange. And if he's anything like I am, he might actually hurt you if you try."

I considered it. Maybe she had a point with this… I suppose, in the right circumstances, Shishigawara wasn't someone to take lightly. If Orihime wanted to try her approach, I'd let it go. I looked at her, "Well, fine. We're across the street from his home, so if you really don't mind… go. Unleash hell." I waved her out of the van of whimsical miracles.

"…I beat you in a fair fight, you know." She pouted in something resembling annoyance.

I picked at something in my ear and flicked it out the open window. "And?"

"Shouldn't you maybe treat me nicer or… or something?"

"You already have a boyfriend. He doesn't know it yet. But that's because he's in denial. Help him before you help me, yadda-yadda, blah-blah, rassum-frassum – I've got no fucks to give."

She stared at me incredulously, "That's…"

I smiled, "Just kidding. Honestly, we just don't have time."

"What? How is that possible? I mean, Ichigo is becoming stronger, and we're arranging Rukia's 'kidnapping'… we have the upper-hand in time and information and… we're just doing so much better than, um," she looked to me for help, "What was his name again?"

"Aizen," I sighed, "And there's the first problem. We might seem to be doing better, but for all we know Aizen already knows we know about his plan, so he's probably made a plan that plans around our plan. And Urahara is good, but he can't plan around the plan Aizen planned around the plan planned around his plan – the first one. My point is… we could have all the time in the world, but Aizen would have just as long to screw us over as we have him." My shrug was almost helpless, "It's messed up."

"Is that why we're recruiting Shishikokora?"

"Shishigawara. Quit messing up his name, that's only going to piss him off," I looked at her with a frown, "And… maybe? The original team sent to the Soul Society consisted of Yoruichi – I'm not sure if you've met her yet – Uryu, Chad, you, and Ichigo. Urahara never went, I was never there to go, and Shishigawara had no idea this was happening." My frown stretched wide and thin as I shifted my lip, "If we can't find Chad, we need a heavy hitter specializing in close range. Ichigo's our best fighter, or he has the potential to be, you're our mid-range and support expert, Uryu would have been long range, which left Chad as a close-range tank. Shishigawara…"

He was none of those things. His ability was almost the exact opposite of how Chad's worked. If Chad relied on direct and blatant physical attacks, Shishigawara relied on probability manipulation to alter the effectiveness of his otherwise pathetic attacks. Was this kid a strong fighter? Not necessarily. But was his ability incredibly powerful and potentially useful? Certainly.

With the right training, there was no doubt in my mind that Shishigawara could become an incredible threat to anyone he faced. If he could figure out the weak point of his opponent, alter probability to score a 'jackpot' hit, then he'd be able to put even the highest level foes out of commission. In simplest terms, if Chad was a tank of the original group, Shishigawara would be the glass cannon of this group.

He could hit very hard, but after that he'd likely be spent. And one hit from an enemy would screw him over. So, at all times, he'd likely require support from Orihime. And after seeing her abilities first hand, I knew that would be a waste. Orihime was an absurdly strong supporting fighter, but she could stand up against other opponents much stronger than her and likely win through sheer willpower.

What was Urahara thinking?

"…Shishigawaka…?" Orihime led me.

I shook my head, "If you want to go in there and get him your way, I'm fine with that. But when you fail, I'll run by and grab him. He's going in the van one way or another, if you can coax him in peacefully, I guess that just makes my job all that much easier." I leaned back and fiddled with the cassette player in the van… empty?

"Alright, then," Orihime shrugged and exited the van, walking at a sedate pace to Shishigawara's incredibly small, rundown apartment in the bad neighborhood. I checked if maybe the CD player – empty as well. Okay, then. I turned on the radio and leaned back. No CDs, no mix tapes, just smooth, pleasant, J-Pop.

…Sky rockets in flight! Afternoon delight~!

Or I could listen to Elton John. I was fine with that.

-x-

Kon was sitting on the dashboard, watching as I rocked out to Queen, when something seemed to catch his attention. "Hey, uh, Poe?"

"Not now, Kon. It's getting to the best part." I composted myself with a deep breath, "So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye~!"

He blinked. "That… That was impressively bad."

"Fuck you I was in chorus for six years! So you think you can love me and leave me to die~!"

"…Seriously, Poe, this is important."

I turned off the awesome, "Okay, Kon. What? What is it?"

He gestured outside. Following his little plastic hula girl arms, I saw some punk in a red shirt beating his way past a glowing orange shield – oh, hey, Orihime and Shishigawara were fighting.

Orihime's shield shattered at an impossibly weak punch.

…Yeah, it was time to help Orihime. I turned off the radio, opened the door, and jumped out of the van of wow. Even as the door shut behind me, I began to pull out my Asauchi.

-x-

If I had to guess, Orihime couldn't say Shishigawara's name properly. That was a pretty good way to set him off, if he was anything like he was portrayed in canon. But for his ability to be able to so effectively strike through Orihime's shield… it was impressive, to say the least.

I ran at him as he prepared to send another punch at Orihime just as she brought another shield up to block him. And, suddenly, I was behind him. My left hand was on his shoulder; my right was holding my sword.

"Hey," I said to him. He suddenly stopped. All his momentum was arrested so he could stand there with me right behind him. Orihime stared with wide eyes.

It didn't take long to figure out what was happening here. Orihime wanted to bring Shishigawara along, she set him off, and they started to fight. But because she lacked the will to hurt him, her shield and offense were both useless. She didn't want to hurt him, so she lacked the necessary will to use her abilities properly.

Meanwhile, Shishigawara had no such problems. His ability could just break through her shield again and again. And why not? Every time she made a new shield, it became something different for his jackpot ability to work on. In a way, even if Orihime had all the willpower in the world, she would not be able to play a defensive game against Shishigawara. His power said no to hers.

If it were a fight where she was supposed to kill him, if she had the willpower to do that much, then it would be a very different story. But because the goal was to recruit him… that left her with a defensive ability that couldn't stop a single strike. She could use her offensive ability against him, but if his fist struck Tsubaki, she'd be out an attack and would be forced to waste precious time bringing him back.

Her shield was good, but if it could be broken through so easily, she'd have to abandon healing Tsubaki in favor of healing herself after a hit that may well have killed her.

Shishigawara, would probably be the weakest member of our group if we recruited him. But his ability was a terrifying thing for a kido specialist or someone who used spiritual constructs like Orihime. Sending her ahead was a mistake on my part.

"Ah! Mister Poe!" Orihime gasped, "You… How did you get so fast?"

That was a very good question. What I just did there, to get so quickly from one point to another, it felt like everything was a blur for the briefest second. I was running from my super-great van, and now I stood behind Shishigawara. Something about this was… not right.

What I just did there… was that Shunpo? I thought it was. It felt like it, or as close to how I thought it might feel. But when did I get so fast? Did it happen out of desperation? Did it just occur out of the blue? The last time something like this happened, Omaeda was about to kill me, so it couldn't really be desperation. Unless I was desperate to save Orihime?

…nah, she was a big girl. She could take care of herself. So how did I suddenly develop this power?

"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" Shishigawara looked at me with a curled lip. He was trying to look tough. It was half working, but mostly failing terribly. "You want some of this?"

My gaze was half-lidded, "Moe Shishigawara," I said to him, "You are needed. Get in the van."

He stared at me with incredibly wide eyes. "You… You know my name?"

"Is that a problem?" I raised an eyebrow.

He shook his head, "Uh… Uh, no sir! Not a problem at all!" Did… Did he just call me 'sir'?

I sheathed my Asauchi and turned to leave, "Great. Orihime, let's go!"

That was… that was surprisingly easy. No big fight between me and him, just me calling him by his name, moving faster than he could see, and holding a blade really close to him.

…well, when one put it like that, it sounded like I was threatening him with death, but he seemed pretty willing to come with me in my van of versisitude… was versisitude even a word? It was halfway through pondering that when I noticed the tires were slashed.

Looking at Shishigawara I stared at him. "Your neighborhood sucks ass."

He blinked at that. "Uh, well, you left your van alone. So… that happens, here."

"…I was out of the van for…" I checked my watch, "…three minutes. It took three minutes for some random punk to slash my tires. Dude, bro. Your neighborhood sucks ass." I looked at Orihime, "Please heal the car."

Orihime nodded and got right to it with a flash of orange light. But, well… "The tires aren't, um, unslashing themselves… It's very strange!"

Thank you, Orihime, for stating the obvious. I could have been listening to Queen, but no. I had to walk out, develop another superpower, break up a fight, and, "I'm calling Urahara. I refuse to let my van get towed because of some jackass with a switchblade."

"Well that's a real shame, huuuh…?" the slimy voice trailed from the opposite end of the street.

…why were we suddenly surrounded by a group of cheap looking gang members? I mean, how does that even work? Where does that begin to effing function?

"We saw that supernatural stuff you were doing, too!" called out another one, "We can blackmail you and you'd never know what to do!"

I looked at Shishigawara. He couldn't even meet my gaze, "Yeah, this neighborhood sucks."

"I thought so," I pinched the brow of my nose, "Okay. Shishigawara, Orihime, go, just… just go. Unleash hell. I'll call Urahara and see if he can get us a spare tire. Or four."

The sound of gang members getting the stuffing beaten out of them filled the area as Urahara kept me on hold.

…that bastard.

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-17

 

[Ars Poetica]

Getting a new computer is a bitch, but at least I'm still writing this.

-x-

Somehow, I wasn't surprised at how fast the actual fight went. Go figure that if you put a group of gang members – what gang? I don't know. But the point is, if you put a bunch of mundane gang members against a pair of people with unbelievable spiritual powers, the people with powers will win.

My call with Urahara, meanwhile, lasted long past the final gang member fell into unconsciousness. "Hey, uh, boss," I said to him, "Look, some dipshits slashed my tires, so I'm kind of stuck here." And no way was I risking the rims of my van of unbelievable awesomeness. He asked me if there were spare tires in the back, "First place I checked," I informed him. "And, no. No spares back there. You should fix that!" I nodded to myself, he really should fix that.

Orihime was awkwardly talking to Shishigawara. She said his name wrong. He snapped at her. She apologized and tried to say his name again. Urahara asked if there were any spares under the van of cosmic power and, seeing that Orihime wasn't doing anything important, I called her over to check. "Stick your head under the van," I shouted at her, "And tell me if we have a spare. Or two. Or… you know what, just check for a spare tire."

She nodded and with a bubbly "Okay!" ran over to look under the mighty van. "Ah, no, Mister Poe! There are no spares!"

…wonderful. We had no spare tires to speak of. That was just… so helpful… I told Urahara as such and he just sighed in reply. This wasn't the best situation to be in, when one considered possible time constraints. Also this was my one major mode of transportation and I'd need it to take two people with me back to Urahara's relatively unmolested by gang members with the feasible intelligence quotient of droopy-eyed children – and wow I didn't know how but that gave me an idea.

"Boss," I said to him, "Did Tessai fix the hellfire detection problem?" Urahara insisted that detecting hellfire wasn't that much of an issue, "But did he fix it?" I insisted the question. Hesitantly, he told me that Tessai did, in fact, make it so the Soul Society would not detect my hellfire. And with a smile, I thanked him and hung up.

"Excuse me," Shishigawara spoke with surprising politeness while sitting on an unconscious gang member, "Not that I'm scared or anything, but why are you so…" I looked at him and my smile widened, "…happy?"

My voice was full of more cheer than a Christmas elf on holiday, "I have a plan."

"Oh god no…" murmured Orihime. She probably didn't think I heard her. But I totally did.

"Okay…?" Shishigawara trailed and nodded slowly, "That's great. What's the plan?"

"First, let's get in the fucking van."

At that, Orihime openly groaned. I never pegged her for being a lightweight. Getting in the really cool van, I started tuning the knobs on the radio as Orihime settled next to me. With no room in the front, Shishigawara sat in the back. He buckled his seatbelt and I adjusted the mirrors.

"Why is the girl shivering?" Shishigawara asked.

Kon the hula girl looked at him from the dashboard, "You poor bastard…" he shook his head, "You have no idea…"

"…Did that thing just talk–?"

Hellfire wrapped around the vehicle to form new tires and encase us in warmth even as I floored the gas pedal and laughed uproariously. Heavy metal played as loud as possible from the radio. I recall, past the terrified screams of Shishigawara, that we were listening to a song about explosions.

-x-

With shaky legs and a pale complexion, Shishigawara stumbled out of the nifty van, "That… That was horrifying, sir…" Listening closer, I do believe he was calling me 'senpai'. How cute. But Orihime was older than him, so the term would be better attributed to her…

Looking at him now, Shishigawara was actually kind of young. If Orihime was fifteen, he'd be about thirteen or fourteen. He would be the youngest member of our group going into the Soul Society and it was actually kind of impressive. Or, well, it would have been impressive if he had the power to back up his joining our group.

"I'm curious why my boss knows about you," I said to him, "I know about your power, but I don't know how he knows…"

Shishigawara was very quick to straighten himself up, "Well, I saved some kid at the hospital a few days ago."

"Neat. How did you do that? What were the circumstances?" I drawled.

"Big monsters with holes in their chests, masks on their faces," he tried shaping the Hollows with hand gestures, but gave up, "They were this… smash-up of animal parts and sounded almost human. It was creepy. But one of them was trying to munch up this one girl who was visiting her sister and, well, I was across the hall."

"So you rescued her," I started to piece things together as best I could. "My boss and his friends know the owner of that hospital. He probably saw what you did and chose to recommend you to us."

Because what was Ryuken going to do with a Fullbringer who accessed his power almost two years earlier than he should have? To my knowledge, Fullbringers lacked the potential to become Quincies… most of the time. So when Ryuken found out this kid had powers, what was he going to do? Take him under his wing? Nah, he was going to recommend the kid to the only expert he knew.

Orihime gave Shishigawara a sympathetic nod, "That must have been frightening…"

…Wasn't she almost eaten alive by her dead brother? And didn't she have to bring Tatsuki back to life? What was she comforting him for; Orihime had it worse didn't she? Still, if she was strong enough to have gotten past that and help this kid that was her business. Not mine.

Urahara, once again, was waiting for us just outside and on his doorstep. Remarkably, it looked like everything was intact and not smashed to bits by a flying ultra-van. "I see you found new tires!" he exclaimed.

"They came with the fire." I shrugged. "Any luck finding Chad?"

He shook his head, "No. Ichigo's training has been coming along well and I see you succeeded in finding Shikogakawa," he nodded, "Nicely done!"

"It's Shishigawara, goddamn it!" the kid snapped, "Quit messing up my name!"

I patted him on the back, "You can let out that aggression during your training with this guy. You'll have your chance." Looking at Urahara, I didn't even need to ask for my next assignment.

"I got in contact with Ryuken," Urahara's smile vanished. "The hospital's down the block, so walk over there and collect Uryu. Since we can't find Chad, he'll be the last person you have to get."

"Anything I should know?" I asked.

Urahara took a breath, "He's… in a bad place, right now. Snap him out of it. And good luck." With that, he ushered Orihime and Shishigawara into his shop which left me standing next to my really awesome van. Alone.

A flash of lightning and a crack of thunder followed by the rapid darkening of the skies signified a sudden rain. It was very dramatic, I assure you. Something told me that I wouldn't enjoy what was about to happen, not at all.

But we needed a long range expert. With Chad just not in the picture, we were left with Ichigo as our heavy hitter, always a good thing to have, Orihime as our mid-range expert and medic, also fantastic, Shishigawara would surprisingly act as our close-range specialist when the time came, which left me as the… what, the driver? Tactician? Information broker?

I guess if Orihime would be the white mage, I'd be something between a red, black, and blue mage. And there was something appropriate about that. No need for healing, I've got power and death and fire and get the hell out of my way.

So, with Uryu, we'd have a long-range expert to round out the party. Yoruichi would probably be the escort; we'd have the Stealth Corps on our side so getting into the Soul Society would probably be easier, and… what was left?

There was something else…

Eh. It didn't matter. I'd remember soon enough.

-x-

The hospital was no different than before, but this time I was greeted by a man with white hair and glasses. The only pure-blooded Quincy in Karakura, this was Ryuken Ishida. He greeted me as politely as he could. No umbrella meant my head was more than slightly wet upon entering the hospital.

I made a mental note to get my black hoodie back from Urahara. I liked that thing. It had lots of pockets for lots of stuff, and I'd need all those pockets for miscellaneous supplies and strategies – well, I already had at least five pockets in my white work apron, but still…

"He's downstairs," Ryuken said to me, "I've tried talking sense into him, but he hasn't been listening. Normally, I would keep this a family affair, but Uryu's actions and Urahara's insistence have made that impossible."

"Is there anything wrong with him?" I asked, "Anything I should know about going in?"

Ryuken considered something, or at least I thought he did. This man had a hell of a poker face. Adjusting his glasses, he led me into an elevator and pressed a combination of buttons – it was clever, that. If I ever owned a hospital, I'd definitely add that kind of feature.

"I don't know." Everyone was being helpful today, it appeared.

The elevator shifted and slowly went down floor after floor. The brief sense of weightlessness vanished in favor of watching the numbers go by. First the basement, then the subbasement, then the screen above the doors went black. The lights dimmed for a second before turning back on.

I coughed into my hand, "Have you considered, uh…" he looked at me.

"Yes?"

"Have you considered elevator music?" He didn't even blink. He just stood in the corner and watched me. When I didn't say anything, he made this slight motion with his left shoulder, maybe he was telling me to continue? "Well, it's just; I'm used to listening to music is all. And walking into an elevator where everything is silent can be a little weird. The ambiance is all…" I waved my hands around, "Look, the walls are white, the ceiling's white, the floor's white, the hospital is white and dead silent. I'm just wondering if you'd ever considered adding some life to this place."

"With elevator music."

"Yeah!" I nodded enthusiastically.

He looked away from me and at the small screen above the door. There were still no numbers – just an empty kind of blackness. He took a breath, "I have considered it…"

"Because it's a good idea?"

"You're not the first person to comment on it, actually."

"…really?" I blinked, "Who else?"

"Isshin."

"Kurosaki?"

"The same. Should I ask how you know him?"

"Well, he doesn't know me."

"Ah."

We stood in silence for another minute as the elevator continued down. "How far…" I licked my lips, "How far down does this go?"

"Not as far as you would think." Ryuken admitted. "The actual room is only a few dozen feet below the sub-basement. But I requested Urahara to make that area as inaccessible as possible, except in specific circumstances. He was surprisingly amicable about it."

"Amicable?" Urahara was nice about doing work for some guy? Work that sounded incredibly hard? "How much did he–?"

"Two point six million dollars, American currency."

I chocked on air. "That… Holy shit…"

"Father spent four times that money building the place as a storage area. I always thought it was a waste, so I converted it into a training facility. Even combining Urahara's commission, it was much cheaper."

"Holy shit."

"But this hospital does make a rather large sum every year. Urahara has been an incredible help, I'll admit, however most of the profits come from the hospital itself. It may have taken longer and may have cost more, but I could have done it without his help."

"Holy fucking shit."

The elevator dinged. A five-pointed star, the Quincy Cross, blinked at us from the black screen. "We're here." He announced. Promptly, the doors opened and he walked out into the soul-made glass room. It was about the size of a large gymnasium with room to spare at least twice over.

A short distance from us, Uryu stood and fired spirit arrow after arrow at a small target on the far opposite wall. He would draw his arm back while forming the arrow, release, descend, form, draw, release, descend… and repeated the cycle of making and firing arrows, relaxing for only a brief two seconds between each shot.

He could fire them faster, I knew. But he was not. He was taking his time. "Uryu." Ryuken called out to his son, "You're going to kill yourself." He pulled out a lighter and cigarette, "Have you considered quitting?"

…Oh, right. Ryuken smoked. It explained the constant odor of tobacco only slightly overpowered by the antiseptics – "No. I can't. Not now…" Interrupt all my musings, why don't you, Uryu? He pulled another arrow and fired it at the impossibly small target, "I have to be stronger, I need to be better, I…"

"You have a guest." Ryuken said. He looked like he wanted to nudge me, but resisted the urge. I stood an inch taller than him, so maybe the motion would have been too awkward? I didn't know. Still don't, by the way.

Uryu prepared to make another arrow, but stopped. Very briefly, he turned to look at me, he examined me, he, "Who are you?" He had no idea who the hell I was.

"Right!" I clapped my hands, "Introductions. Hm, okay. My name is Poe R.R. Acti… my friends call me Ars…" I drew one arm back to myself and held out the other in greeting, "But everyone just calls me Poe."

"…Mister Akuchi," wow my name did not sound good in Engrish, "…Poe…" Uryu tasted my name on his tongue and tried it out, "I don't know you, I don't care who you are." He turned back to his target, "Go away."

I'll admit. That kind of dismissal? I was not used to it. Generally, if I'm dismissed by someone, it's on my terms or terms that are relatively decent. This was just cold. I looked at his father and frowned, but in response Ryuken just shrugged his shoulders and exhaled smoke.

Was this what Uryu had been acting like? Looking at him again, I noticed that his clothes were filthy. It was like he hadn't washed or changed in days. Maybe he did change, maybe he took bathroom breaks, but he just didn't stop training himself. And for what?

…oh. Wait. No. It was obvious why he was doing this, wasn't it? Or, at least, it should have been obvious…

Maybe if I said it out loud, he'd pay attention to me. "I'm here about those people you murdered."

Uryu stopped firing his arrows.

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-18

 

[Ars Poetica]

Good news, everyone! My dorm mate is gone from campus! Anonymous reports, and all that... Also, Poe goofed. Again.

-x-

Predictably, Uryu was more than slightly bitter at the notion that somebody he neither knew nor heard of until that moment decided it would be a good idea to inform him of his greatest failing as a Quincy, and as a human being. When he turned to look at me in full, not just to size me up but to look at me, his glare was withering and his snarl was inhuman. "How dare you…"

"How dare I?" I gasped, "How dare you dare me!"

"You… You must think this is some kind of joke…" Before he could even begin his tirade, I cut him down.

I coughed only once, looking away before returning eye-contact, "Sorry, but, uh, if I was here for a joke, I'd have brought my clown suit." Nobody was laughing, "Tough crowd." I shrugged, "But yeah, in all seriousness, you fucked up."

"And what makes you think you can just… just come in here and tell me this? Who are you, even?"

"I am Poe–"

"I know your name," he stopped me, "What do you do for a living? How could someone like you," someone mundane? Someone not a Quincy? "Understand what I've done?"

"…Well," I pulled out my sword, "For one, I fucked up too." I admitted it. "I could have stopped all that from happening before it did, but I didn't." If I'd just told Urahara from the start, maybe Uryu wouldn't have used the Hollow Bait? Maybe, if I hadn't been an idiot, hundreds of people wouldn't have died. Maybe I wouldn't have killed anyone; maybe Uryu wouldn't be having a breakdown, maybe… maybe… so many maybes… Not enough was certain.

The timeline was fucked from the moment I showed up. I'd been telling myself that dozens of times over the past several days, but it didn't really start to sink in until I saw what had become of Uryu. Cool, calm, collected Uryu had snapped and, in a very real way, it was my fault. What could be said except that? But still, for Uryu to be this messed up… What had I walked into, exactly?

His eyes narrowed. "So that's it, then?" His shoulders slumped only slightly before he righted his posture and reformed his bow, "You have come here to kill me! An agent of the Soul Society!" did… did he just go cross-eyed?

"…Uh, Ryuken," I looked at the man, "Your kid is…"

"Paranoid? Tired? Acting irrationally?" He drawled, "Yes, those things generally do result from exhaustion, overexertion, suffering a mental breakdown…"

…Urahara just said Uryu was in a 'bad place'. He didn't say a word about the Hollow incident driving the kid bonkers. I almost wish he had, it would have been easier to reason with Uryu. But at the same time, not so much. I could work with this, I thought. This wasn't the worst I'd ever dealt with, not at all!

"Of course my father would allow a Shinigami," he spat the word, "Into our training area. Of course he would enable my own execution…! You never approved of me, did you?!" He shouted, "But I'll show you!"

My tongue shifted around in my cheek as I searched for the right words to say. This would only have one chance to work, so I'd have to make it count. "What if…" I began, "Hypothetically speaking of course, I was willing to just let you go?" Uryu didn't move, he didn't say anything. He was a jabbering mess gone silent. "…Let's have a fight. And if I win, uh, I take you out. But if you win, I leave and say I won. My superiors in the Soul Society would never find you."

Ryuken looked at me like I needed my head examined. I couldn't blame him. This was pretty dumb as far as plans went. But, hey, there was a very real likelihood that it would work! I just needed to lose.

See, my reasoning was, Uryu needed confidence. So if he beat me, then he'd feel better about himself! And I could come back later and recruit him with my omega van. There's no way he'd just come with me now, but if I had the van of stardust, it would be an entirely different story.

All he'd have to do now was accept – holy shit that was a fast arrow. I felt a cut open on my cheek. "First blood." He droned, "You're not very good at this, are you?"

Ryuken began backing away. "Well," I replied, "This is just the warmup."

…oh god what had I done.

-x-

The training area was incredibly large, remarkably so. But what made it interesting was there were no standing objects, nothing to use for cover, and I was currently fighting an archer who could hit almost anything in his line of sight and was, apparently, stupid-fast.

In an area with nowhere to hide, that left me putting my relatively new Shunpo and platforming powers against someone who spent their entire life learning to kick ass. This could only go one of two directions. Either I'd do very, very poorly and survive, or I'd just die.

When one of his arrows slid just past my body, cutting through my apron and shirt, slicing a thin cut in my side… I had a strange feeling I was going to die. Pivoting on air, I dodged another six of his arrows, somehow launched in the span of a second.

My sword flashed in front of me to block an incoming strike. The energy burst around my sword and spread out on either side of me. With each turning of my wrist, another arrow from far below me was stopped.

Having the high ground and no long-range combat was never a good position. This was a siege where I was a castle and Uryu was a thousand machine guns, flashing up at me with blast after blast of shining power.

I descended, letting gravity assist me, and pushed past terminal velocity to get behind him. But he anticipated that and fired a spirit arrow – well, it was really more of a spirit javelin. The size of it was far greater than his previous arrows and easily threatened to rip a gaping hole straight through me.

My body tumbled to avoid the blast. I pretended not to notice it singe my back, but a hiss of pain escaped me. Uryu capitalized on that, firing more arrows. "Where the hell are these all coming from…?" I marveled before swinging my sword to block and deflect what I could.

Shunpo was a high-speed movement technique mostly used for getting from point A to point B. But what about attacking? There was no reason, I believed, that the Shunpo couldn't be used involving the arms in order to increase the speed of a strike, or the eyes to perceive faster objects.

Passively, somehow, I was managing to do this. Either Uryu's attacks were really that slow, or I was just getting better at using Shunpo. Why not both? When an arrow threatened to decapitate me, I found myself ducking right into the path of another barrage of blue death.

Rolling, jumping, leaping, dodging, blocking, deflecting – Uryu had complete control over this battlefield. Surrendering would not be an option for me, anymore. Uryu was aiming to kill me and he would probably feel almost nothing if he did. This was not how I intended it to go! My plan was failing faster than I could make it succeed!

…wait. Considering my plan was to deliberately fail in order to restore his confidence, if he killed me, would his confidence be restored? That's… wow. Wow my plan was stupid. Letting Uryu win – what, like he couldn't already kick my ass? Please. The plan I'd made, it would work if I was Urahara. A man like Urahara, that guy had the power to back up plans like those.

But me? Not even close. I was getting quick, but I was incredibly sloppy. Uryu had already landed more than a few hits on me, though most of the strikes were hardly vital. Was he aiming to strike my 'Soul Sleep' or whatever the hell it's called? Was he trying to turn off all my powers and sever my budding connection with the Asauchi?

I had to win.

The power of the Ghost Rider was already within me, and I already had the power to call upon it when in a vehicle. If ever there was a time to use his power for my own, it would be now. Warmth spread through my fingers and into the Asauchi. Like a heart, it beat back gently in response before the sword began to glow.

It was bright red, heated by the fires of hell. With a swing, that heat wafted off of it in the direction of my slash, distorting the path of incoming arrows and veering them wildly off course. Steaming particles of spiritual power rose from the blade as steam.

When another arrow threatened to kill me, I struck it down. It was hardly deflected, just dispersed from the power of my stroke. And with another swing, I fired a blast of energy right at Uryu. Of course he dodged it, but now I was on the offensive. The Rider's power had conducted itself along the sword and without even knowing the thing's name I had a tool with which to strike from a distance.

Was this what Kido experts felt? Was this what guys like Tessai or Hachigen felt when they physically smashed the other guy with nothing but words and phrases and simple, physical motions? It was more than that. This was what it felt like to be on the delivering end of power on a battlefield and – Uryu's kick to my nose took me by complete surprise.

I deserved that. No time to marvel at my sudden power-ups, I left myself wide-open and got kicked in the face for my troubles. A quick Shunpo put me at the same pace as Uryu. But the arrows didn't stop. Even with the ability to deflect, block, and disperse them, it was worthless.

For every arrow I stopped effectively, Uryu would find the strength to fire a dozen, two dozen, three dozen more. The number of arrows just kept going higher and higher. Before, it was challenging to manage. But now it was just getting ridiculous.

A new plan came to me. What if I put the power of the Rider into my feet instead of my sword? The red glow disappeared from the blade, but reappeared on my cheap, raggedy sneakers. I was now wearing steel-toed running boots. And with every step of these blackened things, I left fire behind me.

Uryu's eyes widened at the impossible burst of speed that put me right in front of him… and I didn't stop. All the speed and none of the control… putting the Rider's powers in my feet certainly made my Shunpo significantly faster, but I could not turn. If it was at all in my ability to turn, I'd need much more space to manage it.

There was no stopping on a time for me. I turned the failed stop into a tackle to take Uryu down. But he leapt above me, bouncing off my back with his other hand before drawing another arrow.

Earlier, my issue was that I had the high ground and no long-distance means of fighting. Now, it was the exact opposite. My back was facing him, I couldn't turn in time, I was far below him, and Uryu was readying what may have been hundreds of arrows to strike me down.

I put all of the Rider's available power, what energy I had drawn, back into the sword and swung in front of me at the ground. The sudden explosion of sound and fire knocked me back with the same force I once used to run forward, and I spun to meet Uryu even as he fired his arrows.

My sword was trailing behind me, which left my left hand out to grasp him. The red light of hellfire faded before appearing in my left hand. Fire swam between my fingertips; my fist clenched and condensed the ember. Around that hand, a gauntlet of black steel and leather was formed, stretching from my wristwatch.

Uryu panicked and his bow disappeared. But the arrows didn't. Before my fist could connect with his face, he stabbed down with the arrows and aimed not for the black steel, but my slightly exposed elbow.

I was going forward too fast to consider drawing back my arm. A platform of spiritual energy formed in front of my fist, not just one, but two, three, four, I slowed myself as much as I could in the seconds available to me. A critical blow was blocked, but that left Uryu's other hand.

Another javelin of energy, a massive spirit arrow – he attempted to spear me, and I jumped away to fall back to the floor. The Rider's power dispersed before returning to my sword, the red glow reappeared.

Damage that appeared throughout the room was remarkably minimal, but I couldn't help noticing the damage draining away to nothing. The room was… self-repairing. Of course it was; why wouldn't it be? If Quincies were going to use an area to spar and fight, that area would have to be incredibly durable, it would need to be able to take hits and be easily repaired – or, in this case, not require repairing at all.

Uryu formed another bow and I prepared myself for another session of dodging. But Uryu did not fire. He just stared, he just waited for me to move, "Who…" he trailed, "What are you…?"

"…Didn't we already go over this?" before, I was crouching and ready to leap at the first sign of danger. But now I slowly stood to look at him. "My name is Poe. And I am a Shinigami."

"Liar," He glared at me, "Your ribbon… Your spirit ribbon is black." His teeth were grit. An arrow formed, "You're no Shinigami… you're a monster. As a Quincy, it is my duty, my mission to destroy you!"

What came at me was a veritable wall of arrows as high as the ceiling was tall, these thousands of arrows were fired at me… and I could only ready my sword.

-x-

One Foot on the Platform
OR: One Foot on the Train

End-19