Chapter 16: Silver, Steel, Surrender Arc: Tides Begin to Turn

Summary:

The White Spiders are scurrying down their webs. Where fire isn't eating the Rukongai, it's because blood is soaking the ground.

Torisei is gone, along with Mira, the only guide to Kinsawa. Nariko's friends are scattered.

No one's walking out of this one whole.

Notes:

Theme song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HMii9q4qz0E ("Finest Hour" by Extreme Music)

Due to a lot of reader feedback, I feel compelled to state a few things.

1. I regret giving Nariko inborn powers. Short of rewriting the story thus far, I can't do anything about them now. You can continue mentioning it in the comments, just know that I am aware. And I will happily talk about/justify them if need be out-of-story.

2. A few people have remarked that Nariko is a mess. I acknowledge that. Just, uh, keep in mind that she's me, dropped into the Bleach universe.

And on an unrelated note, sorry for the wait! Life's been crazy, I've been crazy (and lazy)... yeah. Enjoy!

Chapter Text

Grit in my mouth. Blood and dust on my skin. Somewhere through the hammering pain in my head, an order from Before came to me: Don't breathe.

Obediently, I fought my spasming chest. There had to be a reason. Always a reason. Was it the dirt I was lying in? Or the burning air that had ripped the ground from under me? The seconds before the explosion had been knocked out of my head, but deeper memories lay safe.

I had to get my bearings before I got up.

Arashi was the easiest, a jangle of mist and sparks in my head. I'd get nothing from her for a while. Mira. She'd noticed before I had. We'd been a ways back from the others, farther from the main group of Shinigami returning from the day's work. My reiatsu was drawn too tight under my skin to tell, but something told me the main cadre wasn't leaving Kinsawa. Mira I wasn't so sure about. She didn't know how to shield herself with reiryoku like I did. I hoped she was just biding her time. The rest... Kurotsuchi was damn strong, he'd- I didn't know what he'd do. How long had it been? He couldn't be dead. Shiraishi looked frail, but he had a chance. Shinju... I prayed she was okay. Outright prayed, to anyone who'd listen. Our friendship was rocky, but it was a friendship. A precious tie in this incoherent world.

Running feet. Too fast to be Shinigami, who would've flash-stepped in. Too soft to be waraji. I had two options: pissed-off civilians with no reason to help or gangsters who'd be far more deliberate about killing me.

I took the coward's way out and went limp. It was that or try to fight who-knew-how-many people out for blood while clad in piss-soaked hakama.

Fuck, it was so easy to talk about defending yourself when your own brain hadn't told your body to give up.

A whistle soared over the groans of the dying and the ringing in my ears. "Hoo-wee! That thing really did kill two birds with one stone. Or a ton of 'em, as it done. Ya think if we ran back t'that stash we could scrounge up more bombs? Blast the Shinigami out quicker?"

A huff, a bit closer and deeper than the whistler's voice. "Fair sure we got 'em all. Paint-Face'll have more if we can get more of a read on them Quincies. Fer now, if'n this one is like the rest, won't make a difference."

My chest jerked more frantically. Shit. If these people could breathe, I had to be fine. I let my face slacken, mouth hanging open, and sucked in the smallest breath I could manage. When Whistler and Bass kept talking, I took another. Just until they were gone. I'd wait 'til they left.

More feet skidding to a halt besides Whistler and Bass. At least two more pairs.

"Roku, Kojiro. What's the hold up? Mari-sama said we were all in place. No breaks." A deeper voice still, but more clipped, like he thought an accent made him noble.

A muffled thumping sound, like one had hit the other. Whistler yelped. "We're not dawdlin'! Just checkin' t'see if anyone lived."

"Hain't been more 'n a few minutes since we got here," Bass grumbled. "Just like the missus, you are."

"Then check," Noble snapped. "When you're done, Roku goes t'the white gates. Kojiro, Mari-sama's newest find-"

"-Ute?" Bass interrupted. "Fuck, Quincy an' crazy... the things we do t'throw the Shinigami off our backs."

"I don't give a shit what y'think of them," Noble said. "It isn't Ute, anyway. This one's a loyalist she's been workin' on. Reichsadler, or some foreign crap like that. Mari-sama's throwing massive numbers behind him. Last-minute, but he wants everyone who isn't already assigned." He huffed. "Fair sure he's got guys workin' t'sabotage the others, but Mari-sama won't hear it. Just a warnin', so y'know who you're workin' for. He's at the big quarry. Now let's check. "

Balls. More than three Quincy, organization... And they've got the gates that head towards Seireitei, so I can't run. Guess I gotta be brave. Soon as these guys leave.

They walked away, but the crunch of gravel didn't get much quieter. Not far.

"Three dead here," Bass reported. His voice was strangled, like he was bent over. "One of 'em looks real funny. Some kinda red sash around her arm. The hell?"

"Get away from me!" Shinju, terror pouring off of her so strong I felt it. Gravel scattered like an avalanche. Fast, interspersed with dull thuds. Trying to run, to strike. Too soft. Even if they hadn't taunted her, I'd have known she was failing.

I cracked one eye open, just enough to see through my veil of hair. The blood not oozing from my forehead ran cold. They had her on her knees, two holding her in place.

A lock of black hair—Mira's hair, I realized, too long to be a Shinigami's—lay an inch away, a reminder of my potential fate, or Shinju's.

If I helped her, I could die and it'd all be a waste. The sweat and blood and ink, all run away into history. My second chance gone. Maybe painfully. Everything gone, not just Shinju.

If I kept playing dead, I'd live. My powers, my family, my new world, I'd have a better shot at keeping them. My other friends, too.

The correct choice was to play dead, to play it safe. The right choice was to save Shinju. Because dammit, if I wasn't a good enough person to protect my friend, I wasn't a good enough person to protect the rest of the world.

"What, you're just killing the pretty ones?" I cracked.

Instead of dropping her, they stopped and stared. Shinju did the same through swollen eyes. Struggling to my feet, I didn't give a damn why. The longer I talked, the longer I was breathing.

"Hey, bombs blow your brains out?" I called. If all it takes to set my Hirako blood pumping is an explosion, I should get myself blown up more often. Arashi thrummed in my chest. "Shinigami bad? Quincy good? Kill me already!"

"Quincy?" The word sounded funny in Whistler's mouth, like he wasn't sure how to say it. Because he wasn't. Dammit, I hadn't reverted to English in years. Fucking headache.

I had told Arashi I wasn't responsible for stupid people. The plan coalescing around the throbbing in my head wasn't perfect, but if these were the guys I had to deal with, I'd be fine.

I grinned. "What, ya think they keep track o' every blackcoat an' their uniforms?" I said, lapsing into Japanese with an Osakan accent so thick you could've smeared it on toast. Man, I needed my head checked if I was loopy enough to think that... I jammed a hand on my hip, jerked my chin at Shinju. Hoped to fuck the dirt and blood made my already-dark-for-a-Hirako hair darker. "Ya morons. Quincy an' proud." I stabbed my thumb at my chest. "Speakin' o' messin' with the Shinigami, we're lucky t'get that one unharmed. Mari-nee, she done said it'd be icin' on the cake if I got anythin' more'n information outta them. Not in those words, 'course," I added when Noble's forehead wrinkled, "but it were a mess when them cadets showed. Even she couldn't hardly know how it'd go down."

Bass's grip tightened on Shinju's shoulders. "If yer a Quincy, where's yer focus?"

Arashi had been buzzing stronger and stronger with every piece of barely-true bullshit I fed them. Spin an out-and-out lie and I'd earn her wrath, but fail to convince them and Shinju'd get it.

I tapped the beads at my throat, fingers ahead of my tongue as usual. "Best thing I ever took from their lot," I said. "Wrap 'em around my neck to play the pissmop's part, then around my wrist t'snipe 'em when they ain't expectin' an attack from behind." To go laughing-mad or cold-blooded from here? I folded my arms and glowered at them. Better to sell it with confidence than just freak them out. "Speakin' of, what the hell were ya thinkin' with that bomb? Ya almost blew me up, stupid! Couldn't even wait 'til I was clear an' got the dirt on their boozehound boss! Nearly pissed the boss lady off tryin' ta please her." I harrumphed for good measure. "I got half a mind ta march right back ta her and tell her that right when she needs all her family, some morons almost done me in!"

Noble went grey with fear. "Mari-sama did say he needed spiritin' away... shit, don' turn us in! She'll kill us!"

I smirked in response. Problem solved.

Shinju whimpered, sending a trickle of bloody snot down her chin. Her problem wasn't solved. Not so hard now to do it, though. I'd played on their fear of getting pincushioned, on their survival agenda to get them to accept me. The second agenda, as Aizen had said, was fuzzier, but if they'd just blown up headquarters, they probably wanted to twist the knife.

"Now we need t'get her outta the street." I jerked my chin at Shinju, ignoring the way the world spun around me. "We want some money outta the brat's parents, we ought t'bring her somewhere the rest of the Shinigami can't get. This Reichsadler, if he's got that many we can hide her there."

"What are you doing?" Shinju demanded, rallying. She tossed her head, an effect ruined by the ash, stone dust, and dirt caking it. "This is insane! You can't betray Soul Society!"

I scowled at her. Fucking stupid, to think I'd go back on my promise, to think I'd be stupid enough to actually fake being a Quincy. This role was shaky enough without her poking at it. "Shut up an' ya might survive Mari-nee's coup. Play nice an' maybe she won't shootcha on sight." Then, just to make sure I didn't look too friendly, I leered at her. "You're real pretty. It'd be a right shame if ya weren't nice an' I killed ya before we even got there."

Tear-stained cheeks drained of blood. She didn't take my offered hand up.

Last chance, Shinju, I thought as I gestured for the trio to start frog-marching her to Reichsadler's base. Just because I won't kill you like these guys doesn't mean I'll let you backstab me. Nothing in the plan says you stay my friend if I don't like you.

As we headed out, I cast a look back, glanced away as my stomach wrenched. Even with the air reeking of blood and shit, I'd thought it'd be more charcoal than corpse. The body parts strewn around were barely that, closer to bloody chunks of meat and bone than former humans. Once the reiryoku in them had dissipated, they'd be gone, leaving only bloodstains and burn marks where they'd been. Anyone who got here later would probably wince at the rubble of the station before they noticed the human remains.

I swallowed hard and walked on. That was me, if I fucked this up. An anonymous stain on the ground, identified by my stuff, not my face. That was every Shinigami, in the end.

As we proceeded through the streets, I thanked Kannon for letting me bring up the rear. Not because my squeamish expression would've given me away to the Spiders. The exact opposite was true. My stone face would've had Shinju carrying on. That probably would've gotten me, but it was useless to consider. Just like it was useless to consider the carnage around me.

The Spiders had destroyed the shantytown I'd patrolled just... minutes? hours? ago. Fuck, it didn't even feel real, more a collection of scenes than my own memories. The Spiders had made quick work, however long it'd been. Broken, scorched boards lay scattered around me, almost hiding the red staining the pale dust. So many shacks had been leveled that the ones still standing looked like the anomalies instead, jutting into an otherwise unbroken panorama. In black and white, it would've been a beautiful web of light and shadows, sweeping down into the heart of the swamp.

But I wasn't a child peering at a storybook's bland brushstrokes. There were barely any survivors to pity. Stumbling through splinters and glinting eyes, I layered an apathetic shell over my stoic facade, pushing the stone a layer deeper. The empty stares that made it past, the ragged curses at both Shinigami and Quincy, sank into a core too bruised to react. I didn't have time. I couldn't. If I stopped for even a second, so many more people could suffer. I just had to kill Reichsadler and I could go home, back to mind-numbing tests and books to lose myself in.

"Can ya flash-step, little death god?" I asked Shinju, eyes on the horizon in case my new minions looked back. They had to see someone waiting for all the victories to roll in. Funny, considering that even if I succeeded I'd only take out part of the enemy forces. "Ought I t'keep a firm hand on ya, less'n ya run away?"

"Don't touch me," Shinju snapped. She paused a moment, trying to avoid the mud her captors wanted to drag her through. It took all my self-control not to grab her anyway, just for the spite of it. And I'd actually wanted an answer, too.

Heh, spite. I sounded just like my family. They'd grope her or some shit like that. Urahara'd do the same, come to think of it, just excuse it with a goofy grin. Somehow, trudging through the mud behind a seething fake-captive and two gangsters, I couldn't bring myself to play the carefree, unconcerned joker. But if I listened to the part of me that hadn't ossified into apathy, I didn't have to to keep my promise to Arashi. Nonchalance was supposed to be my default mask, but terrifying... oh, I could do that too. Was that the key to being original?

I whistled through my teeth, shrill and familiar to set her on edge. When she finally glanced back, I'd gotten something like a smile on my face. If I ignored, well, everything, we were just on an afternoon stroll. We passed under a half-collapsed roof and I tsked. "Getting jumpy, are ya? Bit smarter than I thought then."

Shinju turned away, but I saw her lip quiver before her hair-veil fell into place. Why had I hesitated before? This was way more fun than staring into the distance. The dark glee anchoring my smile was just what I needed—a diversion so I didn't have to feel anything I didn't want people to see. Sure, something lurched deep inside, but Arashi's wings were unfurling. A promise beginning to come true, and wasn't it easier than I'd thought?

Enough, daoshi, Arashi whispered. I shut out Shinju's mumbling to understand my spirit through the static. This isn't kabuki, where exaggeration is the only way to make your point.

"Hmm?" I said, unhooking my thought beads to wrap them around my wrist instead. "Didja say somethin'?"

"You won't get away with this," Shinju repeated. Her shoulders were tight, but her voice wasn't."Look ahead. There's-"

"You'd better hope I do," I interrupted. Too much irritation in my tone. But with what I saw craning my neck around Shinju and our escorts, no one would notice. There was the tiny matter of a battle beneath us. I stepped around my company for a better look. And bit back a curse. Among the knot of Shinigami bobbed a spiky blonde head. As we watched, a Shinigami threw a Spider into a shack and collapsed as two more dogpiled him. When they rejoined the fray, neither Shinigami nor Spider moved.

My eyes flicked out over the swamp. There. The stone scar of the old mines, at the edge of the swamp. Defensible, otherwise useless. The Spiders' base.

Back to the battle. The ring of Shinigami around Hiyori had disintegrated, revealing Minoru at her back. The way they were beginning to literally disintegrate, I doubted they'd been strong to start with. But neither had the Spiders. Only advantage was numbers, if my on-and-off blurry vision was right. They still had it on the pair and the last true Shinigami still with them.

I stepped back behind Shinju, shed 'Quincy' like a cheap kyogen costume, and shoved the Spiders down the hill. The third whirled. Too slow, too late. I lunged in, slammed my forearm into his chest. He tumbled down into the muck with the rest.

Quips later. I drew Arashi, growled her chant, and flung myself after them.

I landed in the middle of the fray, twigs beneath my feet cracking like fireworks. I spun and slashed. Arashi caught somewhere in the ring, but on flesh or cloth I couldn't tell. Momentum carried me through. I pretended my self-made wind drowned out screams of shock. Or pain.

When I stopped, the Spiders had fallen back, gap unmended where the man now straining his blood with his hands had been. Hiyori was gaping openly, while Minoru looked like New Year's had come early. The nameless Shinigami had frozen, lips mid-prayer. When Shinju landed behind me in a swoosh of flash-step and pebbles, I took as a divine cue.

"Don't get so shocked," I drawled. "Didn't someone hire an exterminator?"

Three piles of mud and twigs struggled to their feet, shaking themselves clean enough to be recognizable as my former escorts. "B-But you're a Quincy," one moaned. Woozy, injured.

My grin widened. "Don't be silly. Me?" I flicked a tessen open in front of my mouth, letting them see only smoke-red eyes. "Thanks for showing a lady where to go. Now, who wants to negotiate?"

"Get me out of here!" Gasped the bleeding man, face dead white. "Damn every one o'ya! Back down an' gemme a healer!"

No one moved. Either he had no authority or they were too petrified to listen.

"You can't save him," I said. "My friends can't heal. I won't. You-"

"I can heal," the nameless Shinigami blurted. She wilted at the glance I shot her. Undermining me.

"-can't get him to a healer fast enough," I finished, a bit louder over my internal he's dying, he's dying, holy fuck he's dying . "Leave the White Spiders, leave your weapons, and my subordinate will heal him. And you walk away."

Sweaty brows furrowed, eyes beneath darting to the bleeding man. He spat more orders at them, but no one answered.

Until Hiyori did. "Fuck this!" she barked. "Answer her now or we kill you fuckwits!"

A rail-thin woman laughed. Her eyes gleamed too brightly, lit by a sick flame. With a jolt I realized she was one of the addicts I'd seen in the gutter. Anger coiled in my gut as I recognized a few of her compatriots as 'washerwomen.' Rukongai citizens had the gall to demand good treatment when they helped these people wreak havoc?

"If no one else has the balls t'do it, I'll answer. No. We won't roll over just ta get gutted." She rolled up her sleeves, exposing lines of blue ink. "See? We've suffered, an' come out stronger fer it. We have rights! Y'listen-"

"I don't care," Minoru broke in. "If ya can't see her lot'd be the bloodthirsty tyrants the Shinigami were before they got 'culture' stuck up their asses, you're just as bad." His asauchi sang free of its sheath. "Fuck you."

I lunged for Chatterbox in the next instant, before I could regret it, before she could set the fight's rhythm. She dropped into a crouch under my strike, slamming a palm into the ground. I jerked back just as a wall of blinding blue fire roared into existence.

Too late. My forehead exploded with pain. I threw myself forward, swinging my fans up into the whiteness and screaming the first words that came to mind: "Justo Rayo, bitch!" The second contact jarred them, I lashed out again. Need space, need to see!

Bone cracked against my left fan and dropped, a shoulder hit.

A fist slammed down into my right elbow. I gasped and dropped my fan, barely dodging the lock my attacker attempted as I grabbed for it. I stomped in the direction of feet. Bone crunched. I popped a kick into the screaming Spider's chest. The second my foot rejoined the ground Chatterbox was there, spitting an arc of blue beams at my head. I threw myself beneath it, coming out of the roll with charged fans.

The shock on Chatterbox's face the instant before I rammed the end of my fan between her legs was almost comical.

Hiyori blurred in and slashed at the two remaining Spiders' ankles. No time to say hi. I swiped the blood out of my eyes, hissing with pain, and launched myself back into the fray.

First to go were the nameless Shinigami's attackers. The taller one walked into it, turning to face me in time to take Nameless's desperate thrust to the stomach. I left her to retrieve her blade and swung for the other's head. He ducked—idiot—and met my Justo Rayo to the crotch. He folded, shrieking. I whirled to hit the next group with Minoru's grunts in my ears.

He was surrounded again, a ring of death held at bay by sputtering Kidou flames. No use being fancy. I shunted reiryoku to my legs and slammed shoulder-first into the one nearest me. He staggered, taking his neighbor down with him. Minoru met him there, stomping the man's throat. I ducked beneath a Spider's club, slashing the second fallen man's throat and my attacker's belly in a fluid motion. When I straightened, Minoru had his hands wrapped around a bloody-faced woman's throat.

"Ain't dead yet, princess?" he gasped. Twilight reiatsu flared and Whistler went flying across the clearing behind him.

"Piss off," I gasped. "Gotta-" He jerked his chin at somewhere over my shoulder. I turned on my heel to find... nothing. The only Spider standing, wrapped in Kido chains, fell to the ground face-first.

Well. I shook my head, twinges of returning pain clearing the adrenaline fog out. The battle had ended and I hadn't even realized it. Dad'd said that if we ever couldn't run from a fight, it wouldn't be longer than a few minutes. Guess it held true for the non-Shinigami enemies, at any rate

"Hey, you," I barked at Nameless when I'd gotten some air in me. "Name, division, skills. Fast!" I snapped when she stared at me like a dead fish.

"What?" she blurted even as she nodded obediently. "I, uh, Yoshinaga Misaki of the Eighth. I heal, I flash-step- King's eyes, don't hurt me, I'm just a scout normally! Everything's all fucked up," she said, covering her face with her hands. Sobs racked her frame.

"It's okay," Shinju soothed, stepping in. She rested one hand on Yoshinaga's shoulder and gently eased the woman's hands down from her face with the other. Her eyes flicked up to me. "Hirako-chan, please don't glare, especially not with your face like that."

Shit, was I? I pasted on the brightest smile I could manage. Not comforting, but surely better. Hiyori, scowling as she wiped away sweat and dirt, took a step back. I ignored her.

"Yoshinaga-san, if you don't mind," I coaxed, stepping closer to her, "we need you to do a couple things. You can leave after, I promise. Just a few things."

Yoshinaga took a deep, shuddering breath and looked up at me. "I, um, sure. What?"

I glanced around, taking stock of injuries. Scrapes aside, Minoru was favoring his left leg. Hiyori's eyes were glassy, but the burn staining her neck—clipped by Chatterbox's blaze, no doubt—was a bigger problem. Shinju's bloody nose had started again. I squinted at it. Maybe a little crooked. And my head was hurting something fierce now.

"Heal us up," I said crisply. I fortified my smile with the knowledge that I was being useful. "Only things that are likely to hurt our odds in battle." Her snort said my condescension wasn't appreciated. "I'm just saying, leave enough of your power to-" Shit, she won't know Shinji enough to track him by reiatsu. Torisei's AWOL. Better get her out. "-to get out of this district. You've been here long enough to know where the next command center is?" She nodded. "Go there. We need reinforcements. I don't care what you have to do, do it. Tell them to send a group to the old quarry near the center."

She nodded and set to work.

Who else did I need to solve? Minoru and Hiyori were fine, more or less. I'd had plenty of alone time with Shinju, though.

"Better explain to everyone," I said aloud.

"Damn straight ya better, Princess," Hiyori snapped. "I thought we were dead, then you an' Flower Girl come tumblin' down the hill. The fuck were they talkin' 'bout, 'Quincy'?"

I glanced back at the bodies that hadn't disintegrated. "Talk while we finish off the rest," I said. Rule #1 of doing anything: use names if you want it done. "Minoru-kun, you and me."

He shrugged away Yoshinaga, who glared but dropped her hands. Done enough, I guessed. Together we picked our way through the surviving Spiders.

"Ain't ya gonna offer mercy? Get info?" Minoru asked. The strangled squawk as he stomped on a man's windpipe cut off my reply.

"I figure they had their chance earlier if they want mercy," I said when I'd gotten the tip of my blade where I wanted. I flashed him a smile and stabbed down. The other question was fine unanswered. At least it was if I wanted to look like I knew what I was doing. Damn, should've thought of that. But this is mercy of a sort, right? We don't have the energy to heal them. Better that they pass to a better life. I retrieved my blade, refusing to look down, and moved on. "I have... a hunch that we need to head out that way." I nodded across the swamp. "Mine seems like the sort of place they'd set up shop."

"I hope you don't mind that 'a hunch' isn't terribly convincing," Shinju piped up. "Especially not with what happened back there. Ah, Yoshinaga-san, that's enough, thank you." Worry pinched her voice. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm concerned for you, you know?"

To my left, the last body jerked and stilled under Minoru's blade. I willed mine clean and sheathed it as Yoshinaga approached. At her insistence I took a seat.

"Fine," I said as the tingle of healing Kidou washed over me. "I'm bilingual. That's the great big secret."

"Huh?" Hiyori said, gingerly stroking her half-healed neck. "You're pretentious, that's what y'are."

I rolled my eyes at her. "It means I speak Japanese and English, mostly," I said. "English, it's not the same as what the Quincies speak, but it's close enough that the guys who attacked Fujikage-chan thought it was. So they figured I was a Quincy and I played along." I forced myself to giggle, ignoring the way it made my head throb. "Told 'em we were taking her hostage and I was a spy for their leader." A smile. "And it worked!

"Worthy of my old mates," Minoru said smugly at the same time Shinju said, "You speak two languages?" and Hiyori burst out laughing.

I broke free from Yoshinaga enough to glare at them. Easier to see without blood now. "Would you shut it for five seconds so I can answer? I didn't lie. They assumed a lot. Rest assured nothing but the truth falls from these lips. And yes. I did just say that."

Hiyori wiped tears from her eyes. "Princess, you're a nerd through an' through. I can't believe that stupid plan worked! Just 'cause y'can talk like a Quincy!"

"You have no chill," I told her in English. My plastic smile shifted to a real grin then. Damn, I'd missed being a step ahead of everyone else. "Anyway, yeah," I said in Japanese. "Hirako policy's not to let on I've got a brain, so that's my concession."

"What'd y'say?!" she yelled. "Flower Girl, what'd she say?"

Shinju shrugged helplessly, though a smile flickered across her face. "That's... strangely impressive, Hirako-chan. I wouldn't mind learning a little."

Opening my mouth to agree, I stopped. "Yoshinaga-san, I can manage from here. Would you finish up?" She nodded and flashed over to Minoru, ignoring the side-eye he gave her. I turned back to Shinju. "Let's talk about it later, alright? With everything going on..." I trailed off before jealousy could seep into my voice. The second she knows I can do something she can't, she wants to even the odds. Too bad. My language, my past. My power.

Her gaze dropped. "I understand. I-"

"I, um, I think you're good to go," Yoshinaga interrupted. She glanced down at her hands, glow of healing fading. "I've done what I can. Um, Hirako-san, you're going to need to stop by the healers after this. I don't have the reiryoku to fix a concussion. Not that one bad, for sure."

Damn. The moment of levity had been nice. But I couldn't resent it. We had a job to do. And every minute we spent here was one longer Mari lived.

I nodded at her, motion making my head throb. "Thanks for everything. Good luck."

Scanning the horizon, she nodded absently. Then paused, glancing back at our band. "You're too young for this, all of you. Still, the same to you."

With that, she flashed away. We were alone again.

"What's the plan?" Hiyori asked. "You got one, right? That's yer thing. Ain't any of our things, at any rate."

I pointed out towards the swamp. "We're going to the old quarry. That's where Mari's base is, I'm betting. Her and Reichsadler's. We're, well, we're going to kill them."

Minoru nodded. "An assassination? Cold. I'm in."

"I wasn't asking," I retorted. "Fujikage-chan? I know all this has been a strain on you. Sarugaki-san? How're you doing?"

Hiyori tossed her head. "Been better, but I ain't gonna run like a coward. We don't come outta this, at least I got to hit shit."

Shinju bit her lip. "I... at the risk of agreeing with Sarugaki-chan, I'm not leaving to save myself now. We signed up for this. Even if it isn't quite what I expected, we have to do our duty." Her smile trembled, but didn't fall. "I don't suppose there's time to meet up with Shinji-kun and Aizen-san? I'd like their power here, you know?"

I shifted my weight from foot to foot. Clock was ticking. "Likewise, but it's more trouble than it's worth. Mari's got more of those bombs. Any time we took to find them would be more for her to detonate them. If we found them." God, Kannon, whoever these things go to, protect them. Protect us.

Hiyori scuffed her feet. "So that's it? We gonna go off 'em? An' y'think we can do it, Princess?"

I squinted at the dark tangle of muck and trees. Chatterbox hadn't been among the bodies. Was she dying in there, or lying in wait? With others like her... "I think we can try. And that's what matters, y'know?" I nodded briskly, pulling my best 'mock-grand ideas' face. "We have to do it. The people of Kinsawa might've let Mari have her way, but she started it."

Shinju, gaze trained on her blood-stained waraji, nodded slowly. "So we have a strategy. How about tactics?"

Damn. That was tougher, not knowing much of what we were dealing with. "Fugai-kun, if you know anything about this place, I'd appreciate it. So far, I've got staying clear of anyone who looks too starved to be as lively as they are. If I remember right, they should have lines of blue ink on their arms." I shoved up my sleeves to demonstrate the area I meant. "I checked one of their bodies and it looked like there wasn't as much as ink as when we started the fight. Not sure what that means."

Hiyori snapped her fingers. "Yeah, those guys. Look like they should be burnin' up but all the heat's comin' outta their eyes. The druggies."

Minoru's forehead wrinkled. "They ain't druggies. I've seen a fair share, but these guys feel like a mix between regular people an'... they feel wrong. Couldn't put my finger on why they were so off 'til now. Looks like they're borrowin' Quincy powers through their- shit. " He went grey with fear, teeth sinking into his lip.

Hiyori squinted at him. "Whassa problem? Y'got tattoos? They can't just Quincy-magic 'em ta blow up, or they woulda."

Blood trickled down his chin. "Fuck. I guess- hell, we're prob'ly gonna die; I'm gonna if she gets in. No point in hidin' it now." He sucked in a breath, let it out in a hiss. "Spiders might be able to get in my ink. They made it."

Hiyori jerked back. "An' ya haven't said anythin'? Shit, ya coulda blown up when we were back-ta-back! Or told us shit so we coulda beat 'em earlier!"

Minoru scowled. "I ain't in the habit of givin' the law anythin' more t'pick on me for, alright? How's I s'posed ta know ya wouldn't run t'Torisei fer a pat on the head?" He gestured roughly at Shinju. "Or you; I'd wager blackmail's yer bread an' butter growin' up at court."

"I haven't said anything yet, you know," Shinju said coolly, drawing herself up to her full height. "Besides, if Hirako-chan's family and Sarugaki-san's family deal with your kind, you can't lack all redeeming qualities. Not that it much matters when you take the black, or enter the Academy to at any rate. The real problem is that Quincies might have a hold on you."

"I'm so fucked," Minoru groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "But at least Mari's the one fuckin' me over, like usual." He straightened, jaw tight. "Yeah, I ain't got nothin' on the quarry, Nariko-san. They hadn't moved in there when I ran with 'em. Didn't have these fake-Quincies neither. But I might know how the Quincies'll fight. An' how they got bombs."

"All ears," I said. A slurry of reiatsu flared in the distance and died just as abruptly. I thought I felt Aizen's reiatsu sliding through the mess. A gulf of rage and hunger that must've been Hollows, too. Dammit. The last thing we needed. "Quick."

He jerked his chin in the direction of the quarry. "They gotta have vantage points, if they're gonna snipe. But if they got a bunch of people like y'think, we won't have t'worry. Mari likes ta make herself look all generous an' that; she won't risk hitting someone if she's got a new partner. Plus she ain't much younger than us. She fronts like she's the best magic archer since ol' Many-Eyes, but she won't risk failin' with that big an audience. Part that freaks me out more is that the junkie borrowin' her power threw up a smokescreen first. Didn't wanna stick around. Some tracks over that way." He gestured at a rough path leading into the trees.

To my surprise, Hiyori was the one to nod at him. "Yeah. Rule number one in bodyguard trainin': somebody attacks yer charge an' it's too easy ta make 'em back down, they ain't the real assassins. If fire-throwin' junkies ain't what we should be scared of, I don't wanna know who they're reportin' ta."

"And the bombs?" I prompted, filing that away.

"No way in hell are they from the Rukongai, not this far out," he said. "That shit's too processed."

Shinju frowned sharply. "Are you suggesting a Shinigami brought them out? Or a sanctioned merchant? More likely to be a chivalrous organization."

Hiyori snorted. "Ha, no way the yakuza'd touch Quincies. We couldn't look the other way then. Princess's lot'd sell that dirt for a fortune. 'Sides, too dirty even for those lowlifes."

Are Minoru and I the only ones who don't hate Quincies? "Go on, Fugai-kun," I urged.

He shrugged. "Y'know how nobody likes that mentor of yers? How his workspace is kinda freaky, ta be honest? I can't really see that face paint bein' from around here. More likely he'd have ta head ta Seireitei ta get some, an' I definitely wouldn't be gettin' in his face ta check what he brought back."

"You know, I don't remember seeing his body after the explosion," I said slowly. What had the Quincies called their supplier? 'Paint Face'? "It's a good excuse... and he's mentioned wanting more information about the Quincies. I think he had some materials of theirs, too, a bunch of scrolls..." I threw an overdramatic glance at the sky. "Why do I always get the creeps?"

"Because you're super creepy," Hiyori remarked. Before I could protest, she threw her hands up. "Well, what're we waitin' fer? Let's go get ourselves blown up."

We set off into the swamp with my idiot cousin's premonition ringing in our ears.

Swamps aren't forests. Nor are they marshes. Somehow, this one combined the noisiness of the former with the stink of the latter. Or maybe it was just that my head was fucking throbbing and lights were too bright and everything that could be annoying, was.

Shinju was trying to teach us flash-step, too. So there was that.

"You're not making yourself any faster, you know?" she was saying for the umpteenth time. A note of anxiety sang high in her voice, like she thought it'd be the key to survival. Maybe it would, but I couldn't be assed to care. Not when Chatterbox's terror-stricken face floated in front of me every time I blinked. Not when every time I reopened my eyes fury and grief burned low and spiteful in my belly.

Damn her for making me kill her. Damn this whole fucking district, for going along with Mari. They deserved the shit pie she had them eating now. Don't want Shinigami pissed at you? Don't blow us up. Don't want terrorists invading and killing your people and generally wrecking shit? Don't invite them in. Don't want Quincies running the place? Fucking easy. Don't give them the damn keys.

A branch Hiyori'd walked under swiped my tender forehead. I hissed, shoving it away with more force than a scraggly tree required. I'd be so glad to get out of here. Take a shower, that was the first thing. Then write my letters. Apologize to Nanase again, ask Dad for some history on Kuraizumi, maybe see if I could invite my friends to the estate again for summer. Let ink wash away the oceans of blood under my fingernails. Which damn, I needed to stop biting. Couldn't get it out so easily as Shinju did to her perfect nails.

Speaking of which. I tuned back in to her telling us flash-step was about "reducing friction with the world." Huh. Something new.

"It's as though you're sharpening a throwing knife," Shinju continued. She came to a halt. As we clumped around her—I was regretting letting the tallest of us walk in front—she made an annoyed noise in the back of her throat. "A dull knife doesn't go far. But a sharp knife cuts cleanly. You need to surround yourself with... sharpness."

Minoru snorted as she extricated whatever'd gotten snagged and the party continued on. "Oh, easy as that? Save it for later, Fujikage-san. If we ain't learned it before, we ain't gonna learn it fast enough ta make a difference now."

Hiyori nodded. "What he said. Puddle."

The warning came too late for my socks. I shot daggers at her back. But if she felt it, or the squelching of her own soaked feet, she didn't show it. Pain in the ass or no, I had to respect that. Hiyori was tough as nails, the giant ones they impaled railroad tracks with. She didn't bitch about things she couldn't change.

Roommate duty demanded I stick up for Shinju. "What, you don't cram before a test?" I said, shaping the words with a smirk. "At least one of us knows what they're doing."

"I- thank you, Hirako-chan," she replied. "I suppose we can use all the help we can get, you know?" She stopped in her tracks again. Before I could ask what the holdup was, she raised a hand. "Be careful. There's a clearing ahead," she murmured.

"Then we fan out," Hiyori muttered back. "Bottlenecking'll just make us a bigger target."

We proceeded as much on tiptoe as you could get in a swamp. Open ground was exactly what a Quincy in the trees could use.

But as I brought up the rear into said clearing, it was empty. Apart from a fallen branch being digested by a patch of mud to our right, it was just a clearing. No, wait. The treeline stopped on the far side. The path we'd followed had led right where we needed it to go.

We stood above the quarry. Sure enough, wooden structures crouched in every crack of open space. Shadows and firelight crawled within. And where there was fire, there were people. Where there were people, there were Quincies. Where there were Quincies… Mari.

The dark satisfaction from before spread across my face, tempered by grim purpose. What I was about to do was wrong beyond words. But it was the rightest of the wrong choices in front of me. I had to make it. For the corpses around the burn scar of our headquarters. For the little girl with the lost brother who'd led me through her home. For the people of Kinsawa to make something from the ruin they'd fallen into.

"You wanted a new order, Mari?" I whispered to the sour wind. "Have mine."