Disclaimer: I don't make own nor profit off of Bleach, or the thumbnail art. The thumbnail art is the theatrical poster for the Hell Verse movie, and I also don't own that.

Notes:

I hope you likes my first actual offshoot story o~o I wanna write some fun no pressure shenanigans. Bit of exposition and banter in the beginning, but I have an arc in mind, not just meandering nothings.

Ikiryō

"Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall" - William Shakespeare

- xxx -

Kurosaki Ichigo

Approx 3 months after the end of Zenith

Giving Grimmjow the tools he needed to use la sangre to travel was one of the most convenient things Ichigo had ever done. Grimmjow fucking hated being delegated to the messenger/errand boy, but he had a feeling the arrancar relished the freedom.

Taking notes from Adaliz and the medallions she'd crafted for the Sternritter, Ichigo condensed la sangre into a small coin shape. Took him long enough to figure out how to keep it from simply rejoining the desert, but he managed. He even put a little design on it; a panther. Grimmjow got a kick out of that, especially since Ichigo didn't indulge his hollow's insistence on making it a kitten.

Grimmjow couldn't use it to move about outside Hueco Mundo without a good deal of effort, but it certainly worked more efficiently than sonido.

They had put together a loose system where Ichigo would stabilize the borders of Hueco Mundo, and Grimmjow would scout ahead, looking for the worst of it. "Stabilizing" consisted of concentrating and letting his instinct soothe la sangre back into a wavelength that was more normal and less chaotic. It would settle on its own, but the dangai needed to be traversable again within their lifetimes.

While Ichigo worked, la sangre saved Grimmjow from having to sonido the whole way back once he found a physical point of contact where la sangre was a bit too aggressive.

Despite the fact that they frequented the borders of Hueco Mundo, they ran into plenty of hollows. That was fine with Ichigo, he needed fodder to leave with Szayel. He hadn't forgotten about Starrk, and his conscience hadn't caved under the weight of tearing apart the souls of hollows.

There was an arrogance that he couldn't pretend didn't exist, an arrogance he'd seen in Mictlan, that whispered that these hollows were his. Indulging that small voice under the guise of the greater good was likely a bad idea, but he did it nonetheless.

His inner spirits couldn't counsel him on morality, they were weapons first, they protected his soul, but not from bad moral judgment. If he was alive and sane they were perfectly happy.

Ichigo stepped from la sangre and dropped an unconscious, bleeding adjuchas behind Szayel. The scientist flinched, then slowly turned, overcompensating for being startled at all. The arrancar wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Must you do that?"

"Sneak up on you?"

Szayel shot him an unamused look, crouching down before the adjuchas. "Sully my lab."

"I have to get my kicks somehow," Ichigo said. Fighting with Zangetsu was overkill, but fighting with claws was bloody and a bit more entertaining. It was also messy, or rather, it had been messy.

All hollows were born from la sangre, in the midst of figuring out how to make Grimmjow a travel medallion, he'd figured out how to use la sangre to eat the blood off of him,and with practice, got it to devour any blood on Grimmjow without la sangre trying to eat Grimmjow.

"Almost perfect," Szayel muttered, gingerly rolling the adjuchas to its back. He kept saying that, and Ichigo could only assume the arrancar was talking about him, even if he didn't know what the fuck he was on about.

Taking a small pink cube from his jacket, Szayel dropped it into the hole in the adjuchas' chest. It hovered there, suspended, and Ichigo knew by then that it paralyzed weaker hollows. He didn't know why it was pink, he just assumed that was artistic license.

Szayel's fraccion had mysteriously disappeared, which left Szayel to do all the dirty work himself. He was the black sheep of the arrancar, thanks to all the negative attention ichigo showed him, on top of his shitty attitude; no other arrancar wanted any part of that. That left Szayel with little assistance, and after the disappearance of his first fraccion, Ichigo couldn't say he felt sorry for him.

Ichigo asked, as he usually did. "Any progress?"

Szayel looked at him from beneath his mask. "You bring me weak adjuchas that can barely withstand a bit of prodding and you expect results?" He let out a derisive snort and stood. "If you bring me trash to work with, Kurosaki, do not be surprised when the results are trash."

"This is what's out there, make it work," Ichigo said.

"If I had an arrancar…"

Szayel always tried, and Ichigo's answer was always the same. "No."

Ichigo shifted to leave, but this time Szayel stopped him. "Wait." Ichigo paused, ad Szayel lifted a tablet from the desk behind him. "It's well known that your ability to sense others is abysmal. Grimmjow is better, but his own abilities are dampened by his connection to your soul."

"How do you know that?" Ichigo asked. He hadn't told him, and Szayel hadn't had contact with Grimmjow in months.

"I'm observant," Szayel said, and it didn't really answer Ichigo's question. Ichigo could only assume he'd been watching Grimmjow from a distance, before all the business with Sunyata. His conclusion might have very well been drawn from the fact that neither of them noticed him.

"What's your point?" Ichigo asked.

"Given you can't find a suitable test subject, I started looking for you." He touched the screen, then turned it around and handed it to him. He'd seen similar swaths of color when Szayel was showing him Alteza's influence. There was a streak of black going through the screen, with various dots of color scattered throughout. He felt like he was looking at a confusing and complicated weather map. "What am I looking at?"

Szayel explained, "A trench. The...flavor of these hollow's reiatsu is more like Grimmjow, or yours. It's been tainted by Alteza."

Ichigo's eyes snapped to Szayel's. "How long have you been sitting on this information?"

Szayel waved him off. "A couple of days since you last decided to dump garbage in my lab." His eyes held a manic edge as he continued, "I found them, I want one. A test subject like that might even live."

Casting his senses out for a landmark like that, Ichigo handed the tablet back and answered, "I'll think about it."

"Think hard, Kurosaki," Szayel advised. "Most things are possible, they're only determined by how badly you want it." He laughed, the sound not entirely sane. "You of all people should know that."

"I don't need a sermon," Ichigo growled.

Szayel shrugged and fell back in his chair. "As you say."

Ichigo left before he felt even more of a desire to kill Szayel. The arrancar had a point.

He reappeared a few feet before Grimmjow, the Espada sprawled out napping on a quartz-like wedge of protruding bone. This far out, that was far more common than the ruins he'd fixed, but this area in particular was littered with quartz arches and splintered spires. The shorter ones made decent lookouts and escapes from the sand.

Grimmjow sensed his mood and sat up. "I know Szayel is a piece of work, but he usually doesn't piss you off this bad. What did he say?"

Ichigo said, "Shockingly, this time, it's what he did. Sort of." Grimmjow slipped from his perch, waiting for some explanation. "I think he might have found conduits."

Grimmjow's eyes widened. "What? Why didn't you sense them?" Grimmjow had a personal stake in this. If there were conduits and they were still alive, it shone some light on his future, a, uncertain future that neither of them could shake.

Ichigo said, "There's probably a few reasons for that. Primarily, I'm bad at it. It could also be that they're so assimilated they don't feel like individuals anymore."

That was an unpleasant thought. Grimmjow mirrored his sentiments with a grumble, "Lovely."

Ichigo continued, "Szayel says he found reiatsu signatures at the bottom of a trench. Might take awhile for me to line up my mental map with the real one, but I'll find it."

"A trench?" Grimmjow questioned.

"Yeah, a really deep hole."

"I know what a trench is," Grimmjow snapped. "Why a trench?"

"The deeper you go, the denser la sangre is. Remember when we were ditching the Hogyoku with Alteza?"

Grimmjow made a face, absently lifting his hand to his chest. "Yeah, how could I fucking forget."

Ichigo hadn't wanted to consider what exactly was at the bottom of that drop. Likely something similar to what he felt outside the world, and he wasn't eager to go back.

"So we find them...then what?" Grimmjow asked. "They can't possibly be friendly."

"They would have to have been Mictlan's conduits to still be alive. I want to know how they're holding up." That was a pretty optimistic way to frame it, it probably wasn't going to be pretty.

Grimmjow looked unsettled, grumbling, "I'm not sure I want to know."

"Well, I do. You don't have to come," Ichigo pointed out. He sat, cross legged. He was so used to the stance for jinzen, he saw no reason to try anything else.

"I'm going," Grimmjow snarled. "I'm not scared."

Ichigo rolled his eyes and closed them, concentrating. "Yeah, yeah, heard it all before." Grimmjow at least lapsed into silence and let him focus. He extended his awareness down into the desert, searching for subtleties, unlike what he usually did. When he reached for la sangre, he normally separated things into hollows, sand, and la sangre, he hadn't ever thought to break it down further than that.

Now he had to actually look, and after long moments letting his consciousness sink into the darker recesses of his soul, he opened his eyes. He wasn't seeing what was before him, he was seeing Hueco Mundo from within, and apart from it. It was a strange way to look, but it was easier than casting his senses out for all of Hueco Mundo at once, it stretched his awareness too thin.

It was no wonder Mictlan hadn't had to try to find him. Now that he was looking, he could pick out the familiar kinship of a conduit, albeit one many hundreds of years removed from himself. He dragged his consciousness back and blinked, disoriented for a few seconds while he got used to the shift in perspective. "Found them."

Extending a hand to Grimmjow, the Espada wrinkled his nose and took a step back. "I ain't gonna hold yer hand, Kurosaki."

"You're a conduit, but this isn't exactly safe, and I'm a terrible guardian." Ichigo laid out an ultimatum. "You're going to hold my hand, or you're going to stay here." He saw Grimmjow physically fight with a reflexive insult. "I don't bite," Ichigo added dryly.

Grimmjow growled, "Pff, yet. Last game of do-si-do we played you dislocated my arm."

"Sorry," Ichigo said flatly.

Grimmjow bared his teeth and slapped his arm down in his hand, gripping his forearm. "Don't 'sorry' me, ya ain't sorry."

Ichigo chuckled. "Yeah, I'm not. Brace yourself. Where we're going, the reishi is as dense as La sangre."

By that point, Grimmjow knew when he told him to buckle up, he wasn't fucking around. His grip tightened along with every wirestrung muscle in the arrancar's body. At least he was prepared.

Ichigo pulled them through la sangre into the depths. Their new environment was dark, and it was cold. Bitterly cold, and heavy, even for Ichigo. It was a spiritual heaviness that didn't necessarily weigh on his limbs like gravity, but it pulled at him, the brush of what felt like hands ghosting over his skin. From the way Grimmjow's legs nearly buckled, he didn't think the arrancar was having quite the same experience.

The arrancar flinched, jerking Ichigo's grip on his arm with a startled hiss. "The fuck is this, Kurosaki?" His voice fell flat with nothing to bounce off of, muffled in his ears.

Ichigo answered, "Alteza. If it gets to be too much, I'm sending you back." Grimmjow flinched violently into him like a panicked animal. "Grimmjow."

Situating himself so his back was almost flush against Ichigo's, the arrancar answered, "Fine, I'm fine." Grimmjow's voice was strained, and it was no wonder. Good instincts made this hell, and if Ichigo wasn't used to it, it would have been no different for him.

Ichigo stood silently, focusing on the dark, and Grimmjow eventually asked, voice hushed, "Can you see?"

Ichigo's answer was concise. "Yes." He watched the shadows congeal and shift, his brain catching the pattern even before he was sure what he was looking at. He tilted his head, watching the thing in morbid curiosity. The shade looked human-ish, wandering, either oblivious or uncaring of his presence.

"Kurosaki?"

Ichigo tugged on la sangre, disrupting the shade's existence. It froze, then lunged with an empty, hollow howl. Grimmjow jerked back, instinctively reacting, but Ichigo had a firm grip on his jacket.

The shade moved at ludicrous speed, but it didn't matter. All it took was a thought to trap the shade mid motion, the shadows that comprised its form shivering, frozen in its purpose. It was nothing but a mess of instinct and impulse and darkness, bound by his will through Alteza. It was pitiful, it barely felt alive at all. If Ichigo was more merciful, he might have destroyed it.

"Relax, Grimmjow," Ichigo said, "It can't hurt you." Not when he was hovering right over it, he'd have to be unconscious to not be able to handle something so inexorably tied to la sangre.

"Can't see shit," Grimmjow complained.

Ichigo took a step closer, seeing nothing on this shade that could identify it as a soul, or anything that might have made it a hollow. "I got it, you're safe," Ichigo reassured him.

"Then what's taking so long?" Grimmjow demanded.

Ichigo tilted his head, wondering what held it together in a human form. Memories? "I don't want it to fall apart."

"You're not gonna keep it?!"

"Hush, I'm right here," Ichigo snapped. "Give me a minute." He reached out for it, sticking his arm through its chest. It was like sticking his arm into a cloud, there was no resistance at all, but there was a wash of feelings, dull and distant, as if he was touching a hollow's heart.

Removing his hand, Ichigo wrapped la sangre in and around it, then pulled them all through la sangre to the surface. Ichigo took his time with the shade, letting Grimmjow go once they reached the surface. Grimmjow jerked back, startled by the presence of a thing he didn't even know was there up until a few seconds ago.

"How you holdin' up?" Ichigo asked.

"Fine," Grimmjow growled. He sounded rattled, but he was recovering more quickly than he might have in the past. The Espada had seen enough nightmares to get over it when it was actually harmless. "The fuck is that?"

"A shadow," Ichigo answered. "It feels...odd, like a ghost; a bundle of blurry memories and forgotten feelings."

"Poetic," Grimmjow grumbled.

Ichigo shot him a look. "Just telling you what I felt." It stood there, purposeless, and started to lose shape. Ichigo hit it with more of la sangre, keeping it swirling around the shade just to be safe. Without veritable life support, it wasn't going to last.

"It used to be a hollow?" Grimmjow asked. The Espada risked getting closer, still tense and jumpy. "Doesn't have a hollow hole."

"I don't think you could even call it alive at this point. The other two were in similar shape." When they were this deteriorated, Ichigo doubted there was a difference between them.

Grimmjow's voice held an edge Ichigo couldn't identify. "This'll happen to me?"

Ichigo turned to look at him, grimacing. "No, I don't think so."

Grimmjow stared back at him, eyes narrowed. "Why not?"

"Mictlan was killed by Adaliz, these conduits had no way to siphon enough of la sangre to stay alive, not without a host around."

"So if you die…" Grimmjow trailed off, filling in the blanks himself. "I need la sangre to live?"

"You saw what happened to Candice." Ichigo thought Grimmjow was aware of that, but apparently he hadn't done his job in explaining it. "Think of yourself like an addict, with no hope of recovery."

"Goddamn, Kurosaki, you don't pull punches."

Ichigo snorted. "I do, but you can't say I coddle you."

"You held my hand like a fucking chaperone." Grimmjow argued.

Ichigo smirked, and decided to save Grimmjow's pride and not call him out. He did give him a better answer. "Alteza can be greedy, and I didn't want you to get lost."

He thought Grimmjow paled a bit at that comment. The Espada knew he worded things lightly, and that the situation was probably far worse than he anticipated. "Why did you let me go, then?!"

Ichigo circled the shade and answered absently, "Builds character."

"What the fuck does that mean? How do you build character if you're dead."

"You're fine."

Grimmjow growled something under his breath, something that was probably an insult, and left him to his task. Ichigo said, "I'll be back." He didn't wait for Grimmjow to respond before he jumped back to Szayel's lab. The scientist was startled, albeit less startled since he was actually facing him this time around.

Szayel opened his mouth to complain, then his eyes focused on what he brought, once he realized it wasn't the vestiges of his jump into his lab. Any annoyance was quickly forgotten. "What is this?" He got closer, and reached out to touch. It seems the scientist was no more immune to curiosity than anyone else.

Ichigo caught his wrist before his could make contact and said, "Your shade. Who knows if you'll even be able to study it, it's made up of la sangre to its core. Can you sense anything?"

Szayel took his hand back, heeding his silent warning, and circled it, careful not to let la sangre touch him. His answer was distracted, already lost in his own thoughts, "Not much." Sharp eyes snapped to Ichigo. "What do you sense?"

"Remains of a heart, broken memories," Ichigo's suppressed a shrug. "It's a lot like a heavily diluted hollow. It's mostly an amalgamation of instincts, I don't sense a distinct soul, or souls, just flickers."

"Is that as elaborate as you can get?" Szayel asked. From the look ichigo shot at him, he assumed as much and said, "If it doesn't even feel like a soul, it likely won't be helpful to your little project."

Ichigo said, "I give it to you, or kill it. I see no reason to let it go to waste."

Szayel chuckled. "Callous, Kurosaki."

He ignored the comment and said, "When you've learned all you can, tell me. It needs a steady stream of la sangre to keep its form."

Szayel turned to the computer and spoke incredulously, "As you wish."

Ichigo frowned at him and jumped back to Grimmjow, annoyed again. The Espada growled, "Always puts you in a bad mood."

"Don't act like you're any better."

"Didn't say I was," Grimmjow said, straightening with a stretch. "So what now? More work?"

Ichigo scoffed, "There's always going to be more work. I'm going to go to Soul Society."

"For what purpose? Grimmjow demanded.

The Espada didn't like Soul Society much. To be fair, neither did Ichigo. Sometimes he got shouted at, which was a treat. Too many people staring; too many people in general. At least in Hueco Mundo if he got claustrophobic in a crowd he didn't feel so bad killing someone.

Ichigo answered, "To try something, and I also want to look for shades."

"Shades? The broken conduits? What for? They're useless."

"Mainly," said Ichigo, "to find the greatest concentration of Kugeki. And I'm curious what happens to their soul when they die."

"If it even is a soul, "Grimmjow reminded.

"Exactly."

Grimmjow gestured dismissively. "Then let's get it over with." He added sarcastically, "I can't' wait to go somewhere I hate so I can come back and do work."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "I forgot, you have a busy schedule entirely comprised of self-sustenance, fighting, and recovering from said fight."

Grimmjow grinned like this was positive and Ichigo sighed. "Let's just go."

- xxx -

Kyoraku Shunsui

He often wondered how there could still be so much deskwork to do when there was barely a real desk to work from. Sometimes when he was up late at night staring down at paper, he wished the semi-apocalypse had destroyed all paper. He was deeply grateful to hear Kurosaki had shown up.

The lack of notice might have annoyed others, but frankly, Kyoraku could only treat it like a well deserved break. Normally when Kurosaki showed up, the hybrid worked and he got to watch.

Stepping from his glorified tent into the street, he walked from the center of their camp to the Eastern edge, meeting Kurosaki where they always met. The tree was huge, its branches stretched high enough to be seen from the opposite edge of the camp. It was a decent beacon, and also a decent walk, but Kurosaki made it clear he wasn't interested in wandering through a crowd of people that feared him.

He caught sight of Ichigo's fraccion first, the Espada sprawled beneath the tree sleeping. When he approached, without opening his eyes, the Espada knocked on the base of the tree and shouted, "Oy! Kurosaki!"

The Espada still hadn't moved or opened his eyes, but that wasn't unusual. Kyoraku caught movement among the branches, and watched as Kurosaki stepped from his perch, landing in an easy crouch when his feet struck the ground. Straightening, Kurosaki lifted his hand in a halfhearted wave and said, "Hey, you're looking," he hesitated, "well."

Kyoraku grinned. "Liar, I'm exhausted. I look every bit my age."

Ichigo laughed. "Well, there's no fixing that, so I wasn't going to say anything."

"What brings you here?" Kyoraku asked. It wasn't like chit chat wasn't nice, but if he let himself procrastinate, he wasn't ever going to get back to work.

"I counted about…" The hybrid looked up in thought, lessening his violent appearance. "About 200 or so shinigami stranded in the living world. I figure I'll swap them out. They've been stuck in living world for awhile now, they probably want to come home and see what's happened." It wasn't as if they couldn't make a senkaimon, but the way was still too dangerous to cross without heavy risk, so he'd forbidden anyone to try. Kurosaki noted his confusion and elaborated.

Grimmjow opened an eye, scowling at Kurosaki. "That's why we're here? Why do they get a pass?"

"Because shinigami don't eat people," Kurosaki said. "I have enough unruly hollows without adding to the bunch because the shinigami can't do their job."

Grimmjow closed his eyes again. "Fair enough."

"Glad I have your approval," Kurosaki muttered sarcastically.

Kyoraku asked, "Unruly hollows?"

Kurosaki explained briefly. "Starving hollows turn violent real fast." That sounded like a bigger issue than Kurosaki was making it, but the hybrid didn't elaborate.

Kyoraku said, "That's...surprisingly thoughtful, Kurosaki-san."

Kurosaki tilted his head, regarding him curiously. When the hybrid barely blinked at all, it made him look decidedly inhuman. He tried not to snoop, but the best way Kyoraku could label the emotions he felt from him would be 'surprise'.

Kurosaki's pause only lasted a moment before a bemused smile crossed his face. "I might have a hole in my chest, but I'm not heartless."

Kyoraku wasn't sure if he could recover from that accusation. "Maaah, I didn't mean to imply-"

Grimmjow snorted loudly and said, "He fucking knows what you mean, he's messin' with you."

Ichigo gave Kyoraku a forgiving look. "Your doubt is deserved. I'm not known for being..." He searched for an appropriate word and in the end, he settled. "Nice."

Kyoraku said, "You're very practical."

"I am," Ichigo agreed, "So I can't collect any points for morality, because this costs me nothing but my time and works in my favor."

"How would you bring them here? La sangre?" He'd seen the effect that it had on hollows, he couldn't imagine what it felt like for shinigami.

Kurosaki alleviated those concerns. "Actually, I was going to use the Kugeki. I'm better with la sangre because, well," he gestured at himself like that was explanation enough, and Kyoraku thought it was a pretty compelling argument. "I can't promise it won't be unpleasant, I haven't actually used it on anyone but myself, but it'll be a damn sight better than la sangre."

"You're confident that it's…"

"Safe?" Kurosaki finished. "Any discomfort seems to be temporary, at least as far as la sangre and hollows are concerned."

He held up his hand and from his claws downward, his arm began to disappear, distorted as if through some rippled lens. The light bent around the edge, like a singed prismatic line, and Kyoraku noted that it was actually rather pretty, if not very jarring. Kurosaki waved the kugeki away and said, "I practiced. I'll get more efficient with time, so it may still be unpleasant, but it's an option. It's up to you if you want to use it."

Kyoraku could see the extra effort Kurosaki made to try to hold himself in check. The hybrid went out of his way to leave the actual decisions up to Kyoraku himself. It went beyond thoughtful, the hybrid was well aware of what he was, and all of the implications that came with it. If Kurosaki wanted, he could kill them all, he could demand respect, but he had discovered it was rather difficult to get under Kurosaki's skin. At least, he hadn't seen anyone cross a line around him. The only one that didn't seem to be even wary of Kurosaki was Grimmjow, and from the way they acted, and the arrancar's position, it seemed to be a right that had been well earned.

Taking all of that into account, Kyoraku said, "I'll leave it up to the individual." He gave Kurosaki a sad smile. "People are nervous enough around you, I won't be making it any better by ordering them into an unpleasant situation." He caught Grimmjow staring at him, the look on his face bitterly thoughtful until he caught Kyoraku's eyes and looked away.

Kyoraku called him out about it; if something was on Grimmjow's mind, eventually Kurosaki would know about it. "You disagree?"

Grimmjow huffed, then stood, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Pisses me off is all. Fear, I get, but hatred?" He didn't quite face him, clearly disinterested in engaging this particular topic.

Kurosaki looked like he'd heard this before, shooting Grimmjow a chiding look. If it bothered the hybrid, Kyoraku didn't feel it. Then again, Kurosaki was unfortunate enough to have been feared for a long time, he wouldn't be surprised if he was used to it.

Kyoraku said, "Kurosaki-san is something different, something new, and to some, a scapegoat. These people had loved ones just disappear, they had their home destroyed. They never saw Reizei, so the only person left to hate is Kurosaki-san. Give it time."

"It's fine, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow ignored him and snarled, "How's that fair?"

"It isn't, but people are complicated, Grimmjow-san."

The arrancar's eyes narrowed, looking a lot like he wanted to leave, but he stayed stubbornly rooted in place.

From the uncomfortable look on Kurosaki's face, this was a frequent topic, and one he didn't like to revisit. The hybrid was all too eager to change the subject. "I doubt the shinigami in living world are fully aware of the situation." Kyoraku knew Urahara had reached out to the shinigami stationed in living world as a favor, but shinigami in living world were hard to get ahold of. They were counted on to check in, and with all the chaos, there was no one to check in with.

Kurosaki continued, "I need to touch them to bring them with me, for one thing, and for another, I doubt they'll recognize me by sight, and if they do, I mean, look at me."

He looked like a particularly dangerous arrancar. Kyoraku grim sound of agreement. "That's very true. I'll need to send you with someone they'll recognize and trust."

Kurosaki threw out a shot in the dark. "How well known is Rukia?

Kyoraku hummed in thought. "Well, she is a member of the Kuchiki clan, and her rank has been the source of some under the table gossip for quite some time. There's a good chance they'll recognize her."

That seemed to brighten Kurosaki's mood, asking, "She can come with us?"

It was almost out of place to see such an unfiltered emotion in the other, Kyoraku was caught off guard by it. Even if his mind wasn't already made up, he didn't think he'd have the heart to crush his hopes. He chuckled and said, "Of course. If I didn't, I'd never hear the end of it." Not from Rukia, but from her soft-hearted captain.

Kurosaki smiled, one of the few genuine smiles he'd ever seen on the hybrids face. It reminded him he was young, and it wasn't such a bad thing to be reminded of.

"Good," Kurosaki said, "then if it's okay with you, I have some host business to take care of." The hybrid always said those words facetiously, but there was too much truth in it.

Kyoraku questioned, "Here?" If it was in Soul Society, it was more than curiosity, it was a sort of truce Kurosaki had laid down to be up front. He could do whatever the hell he wanted, but he tried to at least pretend to ask permission first.

Kurosaki said, "Not here." Kyoraku nearly rolled his eyes, but the hybrid was being semi-serious. He looked up at the sky. "Up there."

Both he and Grimmjow looked at Kurosaki, baffled.

The hybrid answered as if it was something mundane, or he were only casually announcing the weather. "I found Reizei's conduits."

Kyoraku's eyes widened. "They're alive? I thought Orihime-san…"

A pained look softened Kurosaki's expression, but it didn't linger. He explained over his grief. "Apparently. Their souls are so weak, I can barely feel them; it's no wonder he turned to a living soul." He jabbed a thumb at the sky. "It seems the greatest concentration of Kugeki is midway between the top of the sky and the ground."

"The top of the sky?" Kyoraku asked.

Kurosaki looked caught, as if he'd said something he hadn't intended to. He didn't answer his question, choosing instead to carry on. "I thought I might kill them." He looked up again, his tone still too calm and casual for the subject to be altogether normal. "It seems fair."

It was less the threat, and more the application of judgement. It was bizarre, to see the hybrid flip so quickly from the young man looking forward to seeing a friend, to the cold and powerful hybrid he'd seen obliterate Aizen and kill his mentor. It was a reminder that the person he was dealing with was dangerous.

Even so far removed from the situation, Kyoraku thought he might agree. "If I asked you not to?" It was a probing question, and both of them knew it.

Kurosaki stared up at the sky, at something Kyoraku couldn't see, and answered wistfully. "I don't know. It just seemed like something I should do."

To Kyoraku's surprise, Grimmjow spoke, "Whatever existence that is..." He looked at Kyoraku evenly, from one conduit to another. "It ain't living. Nothing deserves that."

Kyoraku believed him, though he still had to question Kurosaki's motives. His own arrancar seemed to have more empathy for the situation than Ichigo. "Do what you like, Kurosaki-san."

The hybrid dropped his head to look at him, trying to judge if Kyoraku meant what he said. It felt a bit unfair to have a window into his soul; he could feel Kurosaki's indecision, and that was enough to reassure him. If Kurosaki could doubt, that was proof enough that the hybrid was still open to change.

- xxx -

Kurosaki Ichigo

Grimmjow wasn't thrilled to be left behind, but on the off chance the Kugeki was strong enough to harm him, he wasn't going to risk it, especially with how strong Sunyata was. Curious, he tried to use la sangre to get closer, but it didn't work, he was displaced to a part of the sky miles away. That was interesting, and he couldn't help but picture magnets. Probably a shitty analogy, but he wasn't getting any closer using la sangre.

Pulling on the Kugeki was strange to him. It came from nowhere, but responded to his desires all the same. It was no wonder Reizei was so dangerous. For Kugeki to function, even in the realm of a different God...he resolved to be careful with it. Using it seemed to mellow him out, but not in an entirely pleasant way. Not for others. Grimmjow compared him to Ulquiorra, and that stuck with him.

Instead of trying to aim for a place in the sky that didn't exist, Ichigo jumped directly below it, into the heart of the ruins of Seireitei. If Zangetsu had known it wasn't simply Soul Society that held a concentration of Kugeki, but the sky above it, he might have woken faster.

"At least you woke up at all," Zangetsu griped.

Ichigo's lips twitched into a smile. "I'm not blaming you, I got some sleep out of it. That was the best sleep I had in years."

"No shit, King, the deadusually sleep pretty damn well."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "So dramatic."

"Where do you think you get your flair?"

It was a solid point, his hollow was more creative than him.

"You think too much."

Also true.

"Ya ain't supposed to agree."

Ichigo's smile widened. "Want me to lie?"

"Just go get this over with. I don't like mercy killing."

It wasn't the morality but rather the boredom of it that Zangetsu hated. It wasn't like he expected morals from a hollow, but it was still odd to him that he felt so little about it.

"You aren't bereft of pity, or empathy, Ichigo."

"Sometimes it feels like it."

"You have a higher threshold than most, it doesn't mean you can't feel."

Ichigo wasn't sure if he was reassured, but he saw no reason to procrastinate further. Closing his eyes, he focused on the gap in his senses. Sensing the kugeki was always strange. He knew it was there, in the same way he knew if he looked, he could see his own hand. Even if it was numb, he could expect it to be there. It was a slippery feeling, to sense the things that weren't there.

He let the kugeki swallow him, stepping from the ripple in reality into the sky. He was miles above the surface, yet there was no wind. Time felt still, silent and thick as a tomb.

He sensed the shades, but he didn't see them, not until he took a step forward. Parts of his vision distorted, as if something was obstructing his view. He walked in a circle, and his brain filled in the gaps with shapes. His eyes widened, realizing how many there were. This wasn't a handful like with Mictlan's shades, this was a group, he wasn't even certain how many. He'd wondered why Reizei hadn't had conduits, but that was flat wrong; the shinigami had taken many.

They stood in a loose cluster, statues outside of time. He sensed nothing from these shades, their souls were stagnated to the point they barely existed at all.

It was eerie, even with all that he'd seen.

He reached for Zangetsu, drawing the sword from his back. Power arched along the edge of his sword, bolstered by la sangre and das licht. His power flickered in waves of black and white, the Gods always eager to stretch their limits, even to the point of pressuring his mind, his instincts. He didn't like it, but it made sense to Ichigo that they would, it was a constant push and pull of power.

Loosing a getsuga tensho, his attack split the air in a chaotic vortex of clashing energy, grinding those souls to reishi between opposing powers. It was easy, enough so that as his power faded and returned to him, he felt no gratification. Killing a thing that was already dead never felt good, but he thought he might feel something.

He drew on the kugeki to leave that place, and was stopped short by the sudden oppressive energy in the air. It cut through the stagnation like a hot blade. Ichigo turned, recognizing the feeling, but it went so much deeper than he'd ever realized.

Reishi split the air and solidified into something he never truly thought he'd see again. Towering skeletons with proportions not quite human grasped the edges of towering obsidian doors, far larger than the doors he remembered seeing in the past, yet it had been so long ago, his memory might have betrayed him.

"The gates of Hell…"

He hadn't forgotten about Hell, but so much had happened, he hadn't ever stopped to consider the role it might play.

The gates were seemingly pulled open by those skeletal hands, but the confines were dark, not bright like he remembered. The sucking drag of a vacuum tugged at the ends of his shihakusho, creating a disturbing breeze in the Kugeki around him.

Things didn't happen as before at all. A skeletal hand emerged from the dark. It wrapped around the threshold and pulled itself into the light. The skeleton was massive, crouching to pass through the doorway. Its bones were pitch black, limbs unnaturally long and distorted; inhuman.

It dropped its jaw and seemed to inhale, drawing in something Ichigo couldn't see, but sensed was there, much in the way of das Licht or the Kugeki before he became a host. This skeleton didn't feel like reishi, it felt like the Gods, but there was another presence there, something more like Mictlan, Reizei, or Adaliz.

The skeleton extended a hand to Ichigo, and he took a wary step back, hand still tight around Zangetsu's hilt. It uncurled its fingers to him, its skeletal grin looking oddly amused. It spoke in a deathly rattle, the rasp of a dying breath. "Kurosaki Ichigo."

Ichigo's grip on Zangetsu tightened, eyes narrowing. "You know of me?"

"I know you," the skeleton corrected.

A chill raced up Ichigo's spine. He could handle nightmares, but this certainty in its voice unsettled him. "How?"

The skeleton's jaw dropped, hissing laughter carried that on the manufactured breeze. "We have met before."

"We haven't," Ichigo insisted. "I'd remember." There was no way he'd forget a presence like this. If he had to give it a name, he'd say it felt like death.

"Mortals see the lie, a God sees the truth." Ichigo cocked his head, wondering if it meant only a host could see it. If it existed on a plane above what others could perceive, like Alteza, that would explain why no one knew of its existence.

It let out a sound almost like a sigh. "A shame your soul is beyond my reach."

Ichigo had a feeling it didn't mean the fact that he was dead, but a host. He'd seen the way the Gods hoarded and eroded souls first hand, it was possibly the only escape from death he'd ever seen, and it was something to envy. Ichigo demanded. "What do you want from me?"

It ignored him, or it seemed to, its head tilting a fraction to look behind him. "The sins in these souls were heavy, and until now, beyond my reach. Thank you, godling."

Ichigo looked from the skeleton's hand, to its empty sockets, not buying for an instant that it was here to merely thank him. He was missing something. He asked, "Who are you?"

It's expression couldn't change, but Ichigo got the distinct feeling of amusement as it breathed a name with a weight he'd never heard it spoken with before. "Shinigami."

Dread settled in his stomach, looking to the skeleton's outstretched hand again. Ichigo felt he'd made some kind of mistake.

"Yoroshiku onegaishimasu...Kurosaki Ichigo."

It began to laugh, a quiet, distant sound that seemed to crawl from the back of his mind. From its fingertips outward it was blown away like ashes, drawn back into Hell.

The doors slammed shut, reishi scattered away from the force of it. The seals on the skeletons on the doors burned away, the Khakkhara impaling them crumbling in on themselves like broken sandcastles, until those too were scattered on the wind. The doors vanished in a heap of ash, disappearing without a trace.

Ichigo watched the last of the ashes swirl out of existence, turning a circle, sensing nothing but the Kugeki. Whatever Hell was, it didn't exist in the same reality, it was gone. "Fuck."

He'd done something, probably something very bad, and he wasn't even sure what it was.

Zangetsu's voice was deeply sarcastic. "Good job, King."

"We don't even know what it is I actually did yet."

"Looks a lot like you freed the actualshinigami."

He could argue, but they knew that was probably the case. "Well...shit." It was just one problem after another, he should just retire before he fucked up anything else.

- xxx -

"You have not unlocked this area yet" Was the mantra of Zenith. Now that Kurosaki got all the powers, he can go collect all the little bonuses and end game content

Yoroshiku onegaishimasu: I look forward to working with you; usually said at the beginning of a working relationship

Tsumi: Sin

Khakkhara: Monk staff

Ikiryō: Living spirit

You guys kept asking for Hell well here it is, here's Hell. If you read Zenith, you know me, expect an odd combination of canon and non-canon.

Current Espada Ranking

King Strawberry

Fraccion: Grimmjow, Nelliel

0 - Harribel

1 - Ulquiorra

2 - Starrk & Lilynette

3 - Grimmjow

4 - Zommari

5 - Szayelaporro Granz

6 - Shawlong

7 - Cyan, Mila Rose, Apacci (Quimera Parca: Ayon)

8 - Yylfordt Granz

9 - Edrad Liones

10 - Pesche