It all began innocently enough, on a lazy Saturday afternoon. Yoruichi was sitting in the back room of the Urahara Store, staring at a bottle of sake in a melancholy fashion and wondering when in blazes that idiot Kisuke would finish tinkering with his latest toy in the basement and come up here to keep her company. She was in the mood for mischief, but for once couldn't think of anything, and the man's ability to generate ideas was just the thing she could do with. Fortunately, before Yoruichi could get too irritated, a most promising opportunity presented itself.

By opportunity, we of course mean Kuchiki Rukia. Rukia, who seemed unusually flustered for an ordinary social visit, slowly walked up to Yoruichi and, without any warning, fell into a humble kneeling posture.

"What's up, Rukia?" Something, possibly the subtle tension in Rukia's posture, or perhaps the fact that her forehead was touching the floor, told Yoruichi she wasn't here to help her deplete Urahara's sake stores.

"O most honoured lady Shihōin Yoruichi. I beg but the briefest moment of your time." Rukia did always love her formal speech.

"Oh, get up, you dolt. Since when did I stand on ceremony?"

Rukia obeyed, though looking somewhat shifty. "Um... would you perhaps mind giving me your advice on a certain matter... woman to woman?" She avoided meeting Yoruichi's suddenly very curious gaze.

At Yoruichi's nod, Rukia approached. "You know that Ichigo is a great warrior, someone I'd trust my back to in the direst circumstances, and a man worthy of considerable respect."

Yoruichi suppressed a smile, guessing where this was heading.

"But... well... sometimes I wish he were a little more..." Rukia trailed off. She then proceeded to close all the room's doors and windows very carefully before leaning over to Yoruichi and confiding something in a very low whisper. As she spoke, a new look of respect showed in Yoruichi's eyes.

Yoruichi placed her hand on top of Rukia's head. "Well, my little Rukia's all grown up. I'm so proud of you." Rukia chose not to point out that the two hadn't even been aware of each other's existence until a few months ago.

"Anyway, you've set your sights on a very challenging opponent. Ichigo's not like other boys... err, men. Do you know what he did when I showed him my natural, unclothed, surpassingly beautiful form?" She stretched demonstratively as she said this last part.

Rukia's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What did he do?"

"He looked away and told me to put some clothes on! That's the calibre of opponent we're dealing with."

Rukia very carefully did not breathe a sigh of relief.

"My point is: your basic seduction strategies won't be enough. You've already tried the classic damsel-in-distress look, and the uncommon but effective side-by-side-against-certain-death style, and have they got you anywhere?"

Rukia looked down sheepishly and shook her head. Then she looked up again. "Wait a second. Those weren't... seduction strategies! Those were all due to external circumstances. It's not like... I mean..." Rukia realised she didn't know what she was trying to say.

"Whatever. To wear down defences of Ichigo's level, you'll need at least a week of uninterrupted alone time, during which specific tactics will have to be employed in sequence. Sit down, I'll write you up a plan of action."

Yoruichi started writing. It took a number of pages, and there were diagrams.

"Uh-huh, I see, and then... ohh." Rukia went bright red and had to look away.

"Yeah. Don't worry, you can get them at a number of Human World shops. But look, there's more."

Eventually, after a few breaks for Rukia to conquer her hyperventilation, the battle plans were drawn up. Only one obstacle remained.

"But how am I ever going to get a week of uninterrupted alone time with him? He has a family, and I have my brother!"

Yoruichi smiled and patted Rukia on the head again. "Don't you worry. Just leave it all to your dear sister Yoruichi. Better make it eight days, though."

"What's the eighth day for?" Rukia asked, almost terrified to hear the answer.

"Compensation." And with that mysterious answer, Yoruichi set forth to do her work.

-o-

Day One

Monday morning, outside the Sixth Squad Captain's Office...

"Captain Zaraki, your pet appears to be attached to my leg. Pray remove it if you value its continued existence." Byakuya was not in a good mood, having had his favourite scarf slightly nicked in a practice match against young Abarai, and Yachiru clinging to him in expectation of sweets did nothing to improve it.

"Don't talk about my lieutenant like that, Kuchiki, or you're gonna be in pain. Heel, Yachiru." Kenpachi shook a candy dispenser in Yachiru's direction, and she reluctantly retreated. "In fact," a thought occurred to him, "Captain Kuchiki and I are going to have an adult talk, so why don't you go play in the Twelfth Squad labs for a while?"

Yachiru gave this due consideration. "Can I press the buttons?"

"Knock yourself out." And if that was all the buttons did, Twelfth Squad would be very lucky, but that was Kurotsuchi's problem. The guy had a bad attitude, and Kenpachi was tired of being sneered at just because he preferred a good fight to sitting in a dark room all day reading books and mixing chemicals.

"So, Captain Zaraki... why have you come to see me, and what, dare I ask, does this adult talk consist of?" Another one with an attitude problem. But there was no turning back now. He'd given his word, and besides, the reward would be so sweet...

"I'm gonna make you a man, Kuchiki!"

Silence.

"I am already a man, Captain Zaraki. And if that was some sort of proposal, I suggest you retract it while all your limbs are still attached."

"Nah, I mean a real man, not some sissy cherry-blossom-sniffing, moon-gazing, poetry-writing, daily-bathing poncy aristocrat - no offence - but a proper, down-to-earth, respectable badass of a man." Or something. Kenpachi had always been better with general ideas than specifics.

"I would challenge you to a duel to the death, but I suspect that is exactly what you want." Byakuya did not enjoy interacting with Zaraki in any way at the best of times, but today the man seemed especially bent on irritating him. "So instead I shall ask: what in Soul Society are you talking about?"

"I've got a training regime that'll get all the wussiness out of your system and will have you ripping up Menos with your teeth and beating women off with a stick - or other weapon of your choice - in just seven days."

"I see. Well, thank you for your very kind offer," mindful of his fellow captain's impenetrably thick skin, Byakuya tried to put as much sarcasm into his voice as politeness would allow, "but I feel I must refuse. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm sure we both have much work to do."

"Did I mention," Kenpachi called out as Byakuya turned away, "that each graduate of the Kenpachi Manhood Training Programme will receive a free map showing the secret routes Yachiru uses to get into the Kuchiki Clan Compound?"

His hair accessories painted indelible, radioactive pink (Byakuya hadn't even known that such colours existed), the morning of the great clan representatives' meeting that would make or break him as the Kuchiki successor. His beloved koi pond, steadily depleting despite an absolute lack of predators or disease. Rukia's missing underwear, found on the desk in his office next to some tell-tale dropped sweets - Rukia hadn't spoken to him for weeks afterwards! And then there was the pony. No, Byakuya would never forget the pony.

"A week, you say? More than enough to prove to you how ridiculous your ideas of manhood truly are." Byakuya was a better warrior than Zaraki, and a superior man in every way. After all, what's the worst that could happen?

"Now we're talking. All right, you're coming with me to Eleventh Squad. The road to manhood begins with manly surroundings." Kenpachi turned around and started walking.

"What are you talking about? You can't expect me to voluntarily-"

"Oh, sure. For the next week, Eleventh Squad's gonna be your home. Look on the bright side - starting from Day Four you get to share my Captain's Quarters, and that's not something I offer just anyone." Kenpachi, still facing away from Byakuya, gave himself an evil grin for a second. This was already more fun than he'd expected.

"No." Byakuya stopped walking. "I refuse. There are absolutely no circumstances under which I could possibly be enticed into spending even a minute of my life in that- that monkey house." He made to walk away.

Kenpachi turned back towards him. This time, he let the grin stay on. "Did you hear? Matsumoto brought a toy back from the Human World for Yachiru the other day. It's called something like a 'Super Soaker.' She says it can shoot gallons of water - or paint, bright pink paint - at a target in seconds. And it hardly takes any time at all to refill."

Silence reigned. Kenpachi went in for the kill.

"It's got quite a range, too. I bet you could fire it from the roof and cover someone in bright pink paint, I mean water, right when they were in the middle of a meeting, or a tea ceremony, or writing, or meditating, or whatever it is you noble types do with your time." Kenpachi shrugged. "But I don't wanna bore you by talking about kids' toys. Give me a proper, manly swordfight any day. Well, see ya around, Kuchiki."

Byakuya held back a variety of choice swearwords through sheer willpower. "Just seven days, yes? And then I would have the map and never have to endure your company outside a Captains' Meeting again?"

"Ya got my word. So, are you in? No turning back now."

Byakuya experienced a flash of perfect enlightenment, a moment that the Human World's Zen monks called satori. In that second, he knew the exact, true meaning of the phrase "damned if you do, damned if you don't."

-o-

...roughly seventeen seconds on average. This alone can explain the fashion in which they insist on jostling me, attempting to initiate combat, offering me truly foul-smelling pseudo-alcoholic concoctions, and depositing printed material of frankly unspeakable content in my lap, then realising who I am, apologising and retreating, only to repeat the process shortly afterwards. In addition, I fear that their short-term memory has actually deteriorated since I first arrived, or perhaps their primitive brains have come to - horror of horrors - identify me as one of their number on some subconscious level. I fear I may have to

Byakuya looked up from his journal. Something felt off. He looked around. There were seven separate brawls going on inside the main building, with three more visible through windows. Somewhere in the distance, he could smell fire, and an unconscious man was dangling upside down in a most indecent fashion from one of the roof beams. No, no change from the last three hours (except that, happily, someone appeared to have ripped the salacious Miss Rukongai poster down through head-on collision). Byakuya, still unable to get used to the idea that he could be simply ignored, and by so many people at a time, thought for a moment about attracting their attention and restoring order, then recalled his last few attempts. Their short term memory, yes, that was the problem. Perhaps some kind of radical brain surgery using extremely small blades would be the answer. No, Byakuya shook his head, he would not stoop to their level. He was a nobleman, a captain, a superior being, here to set an example of virtue and propriety. Perhaps his presence here could even elevate these apes-

Ah. That's what was off. Where was his scarf? Byakuya stood up sharply.

"Where is my scarf?"

Silence. Or rather, the wild, deafening cacophony that was so ingrained into the fabric of Eleventh Squad life that one simply stopped hearing it after a while. Either way, no response.

"I said," Byakuya repeated rather more loudly, "where is my scarf?"

Still nothing. Byakuya did his best to control his breathing. He had to remain calm, even in the most trying circumstances. What would his grandfather say if the head of the Kuchiki Clan lost his temper over trifles such as this?

Then he saw it. His scarf, presumably having slipped off his neck while he was leaning to dodge some round of missiles or the other, was on the floor with a muddy sandalprint across it. Indoors, where no shoes were worn, in an area where there was barely any mud to be found.

"Scatter, Senbonzakura."

Kenpachi arrived half an hour later to find the barracks in ruins, piles of injured squad members groaning in pain, and Byakuya sitting calmly in the middle of it all practicing calligraphy. Day One was going better than he'd expected.

"Good job, Kuchiki. I see you're getting the hang of how we run things around here. Don't worry about the building, it'll be up again by tomorrow. We get the construction done quick and cheap 'cause we know it won't be around for long."

Byakuya looked up. "Ah. I do apologise. I fear I may have... overreacted slightly."

"Nah, don't worry about it. This is pretty tame for a Monday night. And it's not like you'll be sleeping here tonight anyway." Kenpachi made a beckoning motion.

Byakuya chose not to be beckoned, being a captain rather than some stray alley cat, but he did put away his calligraphy kit. "You mean you will deign to share your quarters with me after all, Captain Zaraki?"

"Huh? No, tonight's your first proper manhood training session."

"Which is?" Byakuya felt a sense of danger.

"You ever heard of this Human World thing called a 'pub crawl'?"

-o-

Three drinking establishments later...

"Captain Zaraki, something makes me severely doubt your explanation that the 'crawl' element refers to drinking until that becomes your only mode of ambulation."

"Ambula-tion? You mean Fourth Squad stretchers? You leave those sissies out of this. And how come you're drinking so little? One cup of sake ain't drinking any more than your little sister's a captain."

"I am drinking an amount appropriate to my position, Captain Zaraki, a concept I invite you to investigate. Though now that you mention it, perhaps I should check up on Rukia. She's just come back from the Human World, and I dread to think what sort of influences she might be picking up from that Kurosaki boy." Byakuya started to stand up, only to be violently yanked down by the collar. "Unhand me, you- you- wait, that wasn't sake you were pouring me, was it?" No wonder he'd practically started confiding in Zaraki - the sheer horror of such a notion!

"'course not. Proper distilled shochu, the good stuff. Back where I'm from people would and did kill for a bottle of this. Course, they'd kill you just for looking at them too, but them's the breaks. Now cheer up and drink up, Kuchiki, the night's still young and we've got nine more bars to hit after this one." Zaraki gave his trademark grin as he knocked back another shot of some substance best left unidentified.

"Nine!? Absolutely not. I refuse to partake of any more of this pig swill, and even if I were so minded, it would certainly not be in your company!"

-o-

Two more drinking establishments later...

"Look, Captain Zaraki, I am sure that Lieutenant Matsumoto's 'assets' are to be greatly appreciated by a variety of men, but I must insist that I am simply not interested in-"

"Oh, please. What are ya, Yumichika? Well, no problem if you are. My policy's simple: if you can fight, and your reflex when you see danger is to charge at it for all you're worth, you're welcome in my squad even if you're a screaming bender. And that goes for you too, Kuchiki." Kenpachi slapped his hand down reassuringly on Byakuya's shoulder.

"Did you just insina- instinu- suggest what I think you just suggested, Zaraki? And kindly remove your hand if you wish to keep it. Now, as I keep trying to tell you, I simply do not dwell on such... material things." Byakuya's mind was not as clear as he would have liked it to be, but he refused to be drawn into any inappropriate admission. Mind over matter, willpower over alcohol. Zaraki's corrupting influence could not affect the morally pure.

-o-

Some no-longer-certain number of drinking establishments later...

"Of course I am not jealous of some red-headed poser and his oversized meat chopper! The very idea is preposterous! No elegance, no refinement, no sense of tradition! He struts into the Court of Pure Souls as if he were the Spirit King himself, fights his way past a number of markedly superior opponents - and that includes you, Zaraki, much though it pains me to say so - pulls a Bankai out of thin air with the help of a renegade and that devil woman - and suddenly he is our new messiah!"

Kenpachi nodded sympathetically. "Kid's got a good arm on him, but that whole 'I've got no reason to fight you' thing? He really needs to work on his attitude."

"That is not the point, Zaraki. The point is..." Byakuya trailed off, and Kenpachi took the opportunity to deftly top up his glass. "Do you know how long I spent developing my Bankai?"

Kenpachi shook his head. Although voicing this was probably a bad idea, at least insofar as he needed Byakuya to stay sitting down in order to keep him drinking, he privately thought that Bankai were overrated. If they were really the pinnacle of Death God power, how come he'd never needed one?

"Decades! Decades spent carefully refining every last element of it in accordance with subtle principles of aesthetics, decades of daily practice in order to create an attack form that transcended the very concept of battle and instead embodied the evanescescescesce... brevity of existence and the beauty of an honourable death. Decades, Zaraki."

"It's still pink." Kenpachi couldn't resist.

Byakuya's eyes flared. He said through his teeth, in a voice the very sound of which was a promise of endless torture, "do you think I don't know that? Do you think I was happy to discover that the ultimate manifestation of my inborn power, the supreme expression of my soul, was bright pink?" He took another swig of whatever foul substance Zaraki had pushed in front of him this time. "And yet I persevered. I worked, decade after decade, transforming a cruel joke on the universe's part into a sublime work of art whose splendour was matched only by its lethality. That, Zaraki, is how one earns a Bankai."

Kenpachi finished another bottle. "Don'cha think you're being a little harsh on Ichigo? I mean, he's only what? Two decades? He's doing pretty well for someone even younger than Yachiru."

"Oh, I am not criticising that young man at all." Byakuya glared at a random point on the wall in front of him. "He has indeed done well for his age, and I wish him every success on his adventures, preferably somewhere far away where he will not do me the indignity of constantly addressing me by my personal name. Yes, far away, where he will not corrupt innocent young women, constantly filling their heads with thoughts and desires unseemly for nobility, making them spend improper lengths of time in the Human World and constantly risking scandal such as would rock the very foundations of a Great Clan. Where there will be no risk of him being shredded into a trillion invisibly small pieces should he so much as lay a lecherous hand on a naive young maiden too inexperienced to recognise and thwart his vile, debased advances. As I say, I wish Kurosaki Ichigo only the best, and speak only out of a paternal concern for his welfare."

Kenpachi nodded sagely. "I think you need another drink."

-o-

"Zaraki, allow me to clarify a certain point which has been causing me some concern."

"Yeah?"

"Are we, in fact, lying in a ditch?"

"Yeah."

"While wearing women's kimonos with pink cherry designs?"

"Think so."

"Zaraki, when I am sober, I am going to kill you. And then we shall never speak of this again."

-o-

Day Two

Early afternoon, Eleventh Squad Barracks...

Byakuya woke up. Then he wished he hadn't. He felt like he had leapt into a Garganta, and gone past Hueco Mundo and all the way through to the distant hell realms of which a properly brought-up gentleman should never speak. Like Captain Komamura had unleashed his Bankai inside his skull. Like Lieutenant Kira had released his Soul Slayer and then beaten him about the head with it for several hours. Like he was in so much pain all he could do was make up increasingly elaborate metaphors for it.

Then Kenpachi walked in, swaggering in a pronouncedly cheerful fashion. "What's up, Kuchiki? You passed Day One. And that was one fun night."

Byakuya forced himself up into a standing position, trying hard to act as if nothing at all was wrong. The slight swaying rather detracted from his efforts. "I thought... we were never going to speak of that again."

"Huh? Don't get me wrong, it was fun, but nothing to write home about. Not next to some of the stuff Kyōraku and I have been up to - now there's a man who knows how to go on a real bender. You oughta join us next time."

"I believe I shall pass on your very kind offer. Now if you will excuse me, I have an appointment with Fourth Squad." Byakuya started walking slightly unsteadily towards the door.

"What're you talking about? It's Day Two. And everyone knows what Day Two is all about, right, men?" Kenpachi exclaimed, cheerfully making it up as he went along.

The members of Eleventh Squad present and still conscious exchanged glances. They had been asked a question by their captain, and typically those only had one correct answer (not counting yes/no questions, where the correct answer was "hell yeah!"). After a few seconds, they replied as one.

"A good fight!"

Kenpachi shrugged. "Ehh, close enough. Kuchiki, today's the day you learn how to be a man by getting through the Zaraki Survival Course!"

"A survival course?" For a second, before his mask reasserted itself, Byakuya looked almost miserable. "Not today, Zaraki, I have a headache."

"Good!" Zaraki beamed. There were a lot of teeth. "After the way you aced Day One, I was afraid I couldn't find you a decent handicap. That thing when you were climbing out of the window with her-"

"Agreed!" Byakuya had noticed that Eleventh Squad were all ears, and decided to cut Zaraki off as fast as possible. "What must I do to end this farce?"

-o-

"You know, Rukia, I'm sure it could be cold like this in the middle of summer in a well-heated mansion because of a heat-absorbing Hollow on the loose, but I can't help thinking that you've got an ice-snow type Soul Slayer..."

"Shut up and cuddle me for warmth, you fool."

-o-

Later that afternoon, somewhere in Rukongai...

Byakuya lovingly laid his scarf on a rock where it would not get soiled. It had taken enough trouble to have it cleaned with the appropriate care by the Eleventh Squad laundry personnel, who Had Seen Everything when it came to getting stains out of clothing (as he understood it, the position was a sort of long-term punishment detail). He then sighed, and took off the outer layer of his clothes, leaving himself ready for whatever pointless physical exertion that grinning man-ape had in store for him.

"All right, let's roll. What you've got to do is get to the prize at the end of this obstacle course, all the way up there, unarmed, without going outside or over the top of the boundary markers. So as to make things more interesting, my assistant here," Yachiru waved as Kenpachi pointed to her, "will provide extra obstacles. Oh, and if you die, I get to keep the scarf. Well, off you go."

Byakuya glared at him for a second, then realised the futility of it and entered what appeared to be a giant, overgrown hedge maze. With hidden spike pits. And blowgun traps. And scythes that came out of the walls. Byakuya broke into a run, diving and jumping as appropriate to avoid mutilation. He couldn't use flash step here - he'd be cut into ribbons in a second.

The labyrinth seemed to go on forever. One by one, Byakuya accumulated scratches, cuts and bruises that would surely take forever to fade, making a mockery of his perfect skin and the supple, elegant body he had taken so much trouble to cultivate and keep in shape. Not to mention the increasing damage to his clothing - and Zaraki had forbidden him to go anywhere near the Kuchiki compound to get spares for the duration of his so-called course. Then, rolling to avoid a giant hammer that was trying to flatten him, Byakuya suddenly saw sunlight. He was out of the maze! Just a climb up that sheer cliff, and then he'd be most of the way there! Endorphins gave Byakuya a second wind as he looked for handholds on a practically vertical surface.

One hundred metres, two hundred metres... Nearly there... what was that little dot next to the edge... wait, was that... no. God no. It couldn't be. "Hi, Byakky!" Yachiru waved at him cheerfully, then showed him what was in her hands - a large bucket of sea anemones.

"No, Yachiru, wait! I'll give you- I'll give you-" Curse it, what did little girls like?

Too late. Yachiru smiled innocently, then emptied the bucket in his direction. Byakuya managed to endure the first few anemones, then his fingers started to slip. He reached upwards. So close, so very close...

Byakuya fell.

He landed on the ground with a painful crunch. Before he could get his bearings, or even get the last of the anemones out of his hair, he felt himself being dragged somewhere. No, surely not. The start of the maze. Kenpachi pulled him to his feet.

"You went outside the boundary lines. That means you get a penalty round." Kenpachi's customary grin widened.

"And what, pray tell, is the penalty round?" Byakuya asked, trying to show no sign of pain from his fall.

"Just like before, except this time I'll kill you if I catch you. You've got a three second head start. Off you go." Kenpachi swung his sword violently, trying to cut Byakuya vertically in half. The beleaguered nobleman did not need telling twice.

He ran, twice as fast as last time, desperately dodging for his life as Kenpachi's sword cut swathes out of the scenery and constantly seemed to be on the verge of cutting off one or more of his limbs. The man himself laughed maniacally, seemingly without stopping for breath. The climb was the worst part, as Byakuya had to concentrate on finding handholds and simultaneously constantly moving his feet to avoid losing them permanently.

Then, finally, he reached the top, with a solid lead over Kenpachi. A light breeze stroked his hair. He felt on top of the world. He strode forwards determinedly to claim his prize... and saw the final guardian. That was when Kuchiki Byakuya, head of the Kuchiki Clan, Captain of Sixth Squad, legend and inspiration to many, role model for countless Death Gods, backed away in horror, nearly falling backwards over the cliff he had so painstakingly climbed.

The pony had returned.

Byakuya went so pale it actually showed against his skin tone. He held his mouth tightly closed to stop himself from crying out. Unspeakable images of torment and humiliation flashed through his mind, memories he had desperately tried to suppress. And this time there was nowhere left to run. Behind him was a sheer cliff, with a homicidal maniac rapidly climbing up it. In front of him, his nemesis towered, promising only certain doom. Byakuya froze, trying to use the few seconds remaining to find a way out.

Then he stopped. Zaraki had said that this enormous joke was all a way to develop manhood, hadn't he? That Byakuya wasn't man enough without it? That Kurosaki Ichigo was in the right, and Byakuya was just a pink-cherry-blossom-wielding effeminate malcontent? That it was not only understandable but proper for Byakuya to hand over his one remaining treasure to that ill-educated, common-as-dirt, worthless juvenile sexual predator? Well, we will just have to see about that.

Byakuya looked up at the advancing pony. "I do not fear you. You may have defeated me once, and I may still bear the scars of our last encounter, but by Captain Commander Yamamoto's beard, my humiliation ends here! Way of Destruction Number Four: White Lightning!"

There was a huge explosion as the pony balloon burst into shreds. Behind Byakuya, Kenpachi finally reached his hand over the edge of the cliff, and gave a malevolent grin as he hefted his sword. But Byakuya was a changed man. With a single casual movement, he kicked Kenpachi back down the cliff, then strode forwards and lifted his trophy from its pedestal. At last, the... bag of sweets?

"Oh, thanks, Byakky, I've been looking for those! Well, off you go!" Yachiru snatched the bag from him before he could react.

"Wait, is that not the trophy?" Byakuya was getting a horrible feeling of foreboding.

"Of course not, silly! The trophy's back the other way, past where you started from. You know, past the crocodile pit and the swinging logs and the spell trap maze." With that, Yachiru ran off.

Byakuya turned to see Kenpachi towering over him. "You'd better get going. You can have another five seconds' grace for getting the sweets, but after that it's on."

Byakuya stepped forward as if animated by some unholy force, and without changing his expression, grabbed Kenpachi by the throat with his right hand while his left went to Kenpachi's chest.

"I would like to make something very clear now, Captain Zaraki," he practically growled. "I have completed the obstacle course and earned the trophy. If you have any disagreements with this version of events, I suggest you take them up with Mister No Incantation Black Coffin here." He pressed his left hand against Kenpachi's midriff.

At this, Kenpachi laughed. "Congratulations. You've passed Day Two with flying colours."

Byakuya relaxed slightly, and let go of his death grip on Kenpachi's throat.

"One thing, though, Kuchiki. What was with the whole pony thing? Yachiru was so sure it would work, but I don't get why."

Byakuya looked him square in the eye for a second. "We do not discuss... the Incident." With that, he started the long walk back to his possessions, the subject closed once and for all.

-o-

Day Three

Awakening came painfully to Byakuya. Again. Every bone in his body, as well as every muscle and sinew, ached in silent agony. But what was worse was doubtless the manner of said awakening, violently thrown out of bed by a being that Byakuya increasingly suspected to be less muscle-bound lout and more cunning and merciless torturer from the very depths of hell.

"Rise and shine, princess! It's Day Three and there's no time to waste!"

Byakuya suppressed a heartfelt groan and picked himself up off the floor with all the dignity he could muster, simultaneously sending a warning glare to indicate to any members of Eleventh Squad that to laugh or to breathe a word of this to anyone would be the last thing they did.

"Captain Zaraki, unless a sudden political upheaval has coincided with a dramatic failure of your training programme, my title is not 'princess'. You may address me as 'Captain Kuchiki', or, if you prefer my civilian title, 'Lord Kuchiki'. Are we clear?"

"Whatever you say, mighty pony-slayer." Only years of training allowed Byakuya not to flinch. "Now get dressed and come with me. I told you, there's no time to waste."

-o-

An hour later, outside the Eleventh Squad compound...

"So, Captain Zaraki, what new horrors await me this time?"

"We're going to hit the brothels!" Kenpachi said in the same tone of voice as he would have used for "let's go to the beach today!"

"I'm sorry, I believe I must have misheard you." Byakuya's expression did not change from his customary frown.

"Whoring, man, we're going to go whoring! It's not manhood training if you don't know your way around a woman by the end of it, and you're getting an intensive course."

The silence on this occasion lasted long enough for a Tumbleweed Hollow, a rare species accidentally let loose from the Twelfth Squad labs by Yachiru a couple of days earlier, to roll across the street and make its escape. Neither of them paid it any attention. Byakuya broke first.

"No. Absolutely not. In the first place, I need no such training. Need I remind you that, unlike you, I have been married?"

"Yeah, and how much sex did you have during your marriage?"

Byakuya was at a loss for words for a few seconds. "I am under no obligation to answer that question."

"Just like I thought. So you're coming with me."

"I refuse. I can just about tolerate your alcoholism and your insane notions of fitness, but here, Zaraki, you have crossed a line. No gentleman, indeed no-one but the most depraved and fallen soul, could ever even suggest, never mind follow the course of action you propose."

Kenpachi shook his head as he roared with laughter. The ringing of his bells during those few seconds sounded oddly melodious, almost like a signal.

Yachiru appeared out of nowhere next to them. "Hey, Kenny, guess what? Guess what? Uncle Mayuri taught me something really cool!"

"What was that, Yachiru?" Kenpachi asked innocently.

"He told me you don't have to just put water or paint into my new Super Soaker. There's this great thing called 'acid', and you can fire it from the Super Soaker, and it can eat holes in walls and paintings and people and almost anything! Isn't that amazing?"

Kenpachi looked at Byakuya. Byakuya looked back for a long second.

"Have it your way, Zaraki. I will have to commit honourable suicide at the end of this week anyway, what does it matter how much I debase myself in the meantime?" Byakuya looked deeply dejected for a fraction of a second before he regained self-control.

"Oh, yeah, did you see a funny-looking Hollow anywhere?" Yachiru asked in a wondering tone of voice. Seeing a chance to make his life at least a tiny bit easier, Byakuya pointed in a random direction without hesitation. Yachiru ran off.

"Don't worry." Kenpachi patted Byakuya on the shoulder patronisingly. "If your reputation gets ruined, I'll accept full responsibility."

"Well, that is at least some consolation." The two walked down the street together. A few metres down, Byakuya stopped.

"Which means what, exactly?"

"I'll tell everyone I was the one who ruined it."

-o-

"This is the most flimsy and preposterous disguise I have ever seen, Zaraki. How can I possibly expect to maintain my anonymity in this?" Byakuya glowered, the disguise mainly consisting of make-up, a fake nose, a cheap kimono and letting his hair hang loose.

"Well, we can't disguise ya through clothes, can we? You'll be taking them off soon enough." Kenpachi, not disguised in the least, looked like he was trying hard not to laugh.

Before Kuchiki could do any more moaning, Kenpachi put his hands on the man's shoulders and practically pushed him into the first establishment on the list - cheap and cheerful, a good introduction for beginners... or so he'd heard.

"Hey, there, mistress. My boy here needs something of an education." He grinned at the proprietress.

She, a dumpy woman dressed in a faux-expensive kimono which didn't quite suit her, beamed at them, then frowned. "Hey, don't I know you from somewhere?"

Byakuya tried hard not to panic. "Definitely not, good woman. I am...I am..."

"He's a new Eleventh Squad member. Guchiru Baka, straight out of the academy and already raring to go. He's minor nobility, so that's why you probably think he looks like one of the big-wigs you've seen before. So, got a girl or two to show him the ropes?"

"Th-The ropes?" Byakuya had been feeling out of his element to begin with, and Zaraki wasn't helping.

"It's an expression, dear." The woman took pity on him. "Unless you want it literally, of course - the customer's needs come first at Madam Lily's Flower Garden."

She looked up towards the ceiling. "Sakura! Akane! Come down here, I've got a newbie for you!"

Byakuya had scarcely recovered from the proprietress's previous statement. "T-two women? At once?"

"That's right, Baka my boy. Well, see ya in a few!" Kenpachi put some coins down on the counter and started to walk off.

"Wait!" Byakuya shouted after him. "You cannot just leave me here!"

Kenpachi half-turned. "Uhh... don't know what ideas you've been getting, kid, but I ain't into the whole group thing. The only place to put two swords together is a fight, anything else is just... weird. Not that I ain't flattered, though."

Byakuya opened his mouth, but realised that he didn't even know where to start. Before he could decide, he was summarily dragged away upstairs by the two girls, who knew an impressive physique when they saw one (though the obviously fake nose was a little offputting).

-o-

"So how was it, kid? Bet they don't teach ya that stuff in your fancy etiquette lessons." Kenpachi had long since decided to milk this opportunity for all it was worth.

Byakuya glared at him. Then, glancing around to make sure that no-one who could possibly know him was listening, he very quietly said "... educational." Then, more loudly, "and if you speak a word of this to anyone, I swear I shall murder you with my own two hands. Now, have I passed your so-called Day Three?"

"Passed?" Kenpachi's voice was filled with shock and incomprehension. "After a single brothel? Man, you really are naive. Come on, I've got a full," he paused for a second, remembering, "itinerary for ya."

-o-

"Welcome to the House of Many Secrets." A slim young woman bowed to the pair. "Are you here today for men, women, animals or Hollows?"

Byakuya stared at her, trying to conceal the horror he felt at the question. Then, he remembered that he was completely disguised, and allowed his mouth to open in shock. It felt... oddly satisfying.

"Please, sir, we do not judge here. Our only aim is customer satisfaction."

Then Byakuya's brain finally finished processing what it had heard. "Hollows!?"

For once even Kenpachi was shocked. "You're into that stuff, Kuch- err, Guchiru? Yuck. I'm as tolerant a guy as you're gonna find, but that's just... yuck."

Byakuya froze. "W-What? I didn't-"

"Of course, sir." The young woman took a catalogue out from under the desk. "All our Hollows are fully tame and undergo special training. Our standard choices run the full gamut from tentacular to spiked, clawed and electrified. Or you could go for a deluxe option - I've got that brochure right here."

Byakuya turned to Kenpachi, intending to blame the whole mess on him, but the latter backed away, raising his hands defensively.

"Whoa whoa whoa. You keep me out of your sick games." He proceeded to take several steps backwards, and out of the door, though not before placing a few coins on a table next to it. Byakuya was on his own.

Outside, Kenpachi waited until he was out of hearing range before letting loose an enormous laugh. Tracking this kind of brothel down had been worth every minute just to see that look on Kuchiki's face.

-o-

After a very long time spent preparing with the aid of a specially summoned and very discreet housemaid, Rukia was finally ready to unleash her secret weapon. Her kimono was of the softest silk, designed by one of Soul Society's greatest fashion masters and embroidered with patterns the very form of which mesmerised the eye and enraptured the heart. Her hair was bound in an elaborate style simultaneously elegantly traditional and alluring, with hairpins each worth perhaps half a district of Rukongai. The make-up, though subtle, had been applied with painstaking attention to detail, while the perfume was not only rare but carefully chosen to extend the specific visual effect to a wholly different sense. It had taken hours of persuasion from Yoruichi, followed by the most epic display of willpower from Rukia not to simply bin the whole thing and wear something more practical, but here she was at last, about to savour the victory that her suffering had earned. She stepped out into the room and waited for Ichigo's response.

"Oh, hey, Rukia. Something seems kinda different about you today. Did you cut your hair?"

Ichigo's life was saved solely by the fact that Rukia couldn't run while wearing a traditionally bound women's kimono.

-o-

A few hours later, outside the House of Many Secrets...

"So, how'd it go, stud?" Kenpachi tried hard not to show quite how much he was enjoying this, for fear of giving the game away.

Byakuya stared at him, but didn't answer. Stepping closer, Kenpachi realised that he could just about hear a sort of faint muttering sound.

"No, please, I don't need a practical demonstration, no, please, I don't need a practical demonstration, no, please, I don't need a practical demonstration..."

Now that he looked closer, there was also some barely perceptible shivering going on.

"Oh, relax, Kuchiki. Don't worry, I know just the place to take your mind off things. Come on, it's down this way."

Byakuya didn't even argue, although he needed a push before he started walking in the right direction. Kenpachi wondered for the first time if he had gone too far, then reminded himself that it was all for a good cause. Yoruichi had promised...

-o-

"No, please, Zaraki, it isn't that today hasn't contained a number of... interesting and valuable experiences... for which I will kill you slowly and with excruciating pain if you ever so much as give anyone the tiniest hint that they occurred... but I can barely walk, never mind anything else." Once again, every single muscle in Byakuya's body ached, including muscles which hadn't ached last time, and muscles he hadn't even known he had. He had demanded, then requested, then begged that they stop at various points, but Zaraki had insisted that if he didn't pass the complete Day Three, he would not receive the map. Part of Byakuya wondered if it would really be worth it, while another part was starting to think that he was too far gone to stop now. The worst part had been when they'd gone into a Human World-themed establishment, and there had been this book... Byakuya had initially assumed that any activity based on reading would be more gentle and refined, but he had not counted on the Kama Sutra.

"Nah, trust me, this place will be unforgettable." Kenpachi led a slightly limping Byakuya into the Hellfire Pit, its insides decorated with chains, torches and woodcuts of frankly staggering content. Before Byakuya could summon the energy to comment, or indeed flee, Kenpachi chucked a small coin purse to the madam and loudly said "a full deluxe course for the kid here, if you'd be so kind."

A couple of guards wearing leather thongs and not much else exchanged glances and raised their eyebrows. Taking advantage of Byakuya's temporary bewilderment, they grabbed him by the arms and dragged him away.

By the time Byakuya next knew what was going on, he was in a dimly lit upstairs room filled with what appeared to be torture racks and devices made for purposes he firmly decided not to think about. His clothes had been removed at some earlier point in the process. At the heart of it all was a woman wearing a butterfly mask, some elaborate lingerie, and nothing else to speak of. She gave him an analytical look, then cracked the whip she was carrying in her left hand - a detail Byakuya had initially overlooked, being much more focused on the branding iron in her right.

"Looks like you've been a bad slave. And I'm going to spend the next few hours punishing you." She cracked the whip again. "Boys, strap him into the Wheel of Death."

At this point, Byakuya simultaneously realised two terrifying things. First, he was so incredibly drained that he didn't think he could fight the guards off with his full captain power. Second, the woman in the butterfly mask was in between him and both the door and the window. Byakuya could not strike a (technically) unarmed woman, with one notable exception (whom he could not strike for other reasons, ones he would not admit in a thousand years).

The guards approached. Time was running out. Byakuya made a snap decision and dived over the woman, through the second-floor window, and out into the street below.

Straight into the arms of Kenpachi, who had been waiting outside for lack of anything better to do, and caught him on reflex.

For a second, all was still. Then Kenpachi realised he was holding a naked Byakuya and Byakuya realised that he was being held, naked, by Kenpachi. Then both of them realised that there was a young female passer-by watching.

Byakuya, high on adrenaline and still in Kenpachi's arms, turned to her. "I know this may look like two of the captains from the Court of Pure Souls engaging in some sort of unspeakable homosexual act in the middle of the street, but let me assure you that it is merely a hallucination, one most likely brought on by deep-seated sexual repression. I suggest that you go to your lover at once and have a very serious conversation."

"But I don't have a- a lover."

"Then I would say the solution is obvious." Byakuya replied coolly.

"Oh. Thank you." The young woman bowed and walked away slightly unsteadily.

Byakuya and Kenpachi then turned to each other and recited, in unison, "and we shall never speak of this again."

-o-

Day Four

For once, Byakuya hadn't slept too badly. The sheer accumulated trauma of yesterday seemed to have somehow cancelled itself out, as if his brain had found it too much to process and decided to stash it somewhere for the time being and sort it out bit by bit over the next several decades - much like his lieutenant's attitude to paperwork. Which had left only the more... pleasant memories (not that Byakuya would for a second categorise them as such except in the most private recesses of his mind). Additionally, Kenpachi had been feeling awkward enough not to bother him for the rest of the day.

"Rise and shine, princess!"

But this time, Byakuya was already up. "Well, what madness have you in store for me today, Zaraki? I shall take your crude machinations, crush them with a single blow, and seize the prize that I have earned with my own two hands."

"Yeah, whatever. Today, you're going to learn about hunting."

"Learn? What could you possibly have to teach me, a captain of the Thirteen Court Guardian Squads, about hunting?" Byakuya almost sneered.

"Everything. I'm sure you know everything there is to know about killing ponies, but a real man's gotta find the toughest prey, beat it down, kill it, and take a decent trophy off the corpse, or it ain't hunting. Now, the Bureau boys tell me there's a bunch of Hollows invading outside my old turf in Rukongai, so grab your scarf and get moving." Zaraki grinned in anticipation. Byakuya privately wondered whether the man even had a different facial expression.

"One second. Is that it? Hunting? No humiliation? No torture? No thinly-disguised entertainment at the expense of my dignity?" Byakuya looked Kenpachi in the eye (the right eye being available on this particular occasion).

Kenpachi nodded. "That's right. The first three days are there to weed the wusses out from the guys with real man potential. I told ya, didn't I? Get to day four and you can even share my captain's quarters. Proper beds and everything." At this, both men suddenly had a horrible flashback to the previous day's events.

"Anyway," Kenpachi said quickly, "we should hurry. Those Hollows ain't gonna kill themselves." He paused. "Well, actually, they might, but that's no fun for anyone."

-o-

A little while later, in a forest outside South Rukongai...

"Hahhah! Nice try, Kuchiki, but that one's mine! And if you can't get a better trophy than me by the end of the day, you fail Day Four!"

"What trophy, Zaraki? Even a child knows that Hollows vanish as soon as you kill them!" Byakuya took advantage of his superior flash step to keep a safe distance away from the madman and his unreasonably long sword while slashing apart monster after monster.

"Not these days they don't - haven't you been paying attention?" Kenpachi shouted back as he bisected a towering humanoid several times his height.

Byakuya was forced to concede the point. He couldn't remember hearing of a single Arrancar who had died without delivering some meaningful last words, or indeed a concise version of their life story, in the recent past. Well, if it made beating Zaraki easier... Aha!

Byakuya had spotted an excellent Hollow specimen, a tentacled monstrosity with a prominent skull from which its tentacles emanated.

"Scatter, Senbonzakura!" It was the work of seconds to separate the skull from its erstwhile owner. Byakuya allowed himself a shadow of a proud smile at the clean efficiency with which he had accomplished the task... only to see Kenpachi ahead of him, carrying a skull his own size over one shoulder. They locked gazes.

"Close, but still not good enough, pony-slayer. Gotta try harder if you want to keep up with a real man!"

"Laugh while you may, man-beast. I will show you that one does not have to be a shaved gorilla to demonstrate strength of arms." Another thought occurred to Byakuya. "Also, use that nickname again, and the trophy may have to be your head."

Kenpachi was just about to come back with a simple yet insightful observation that would shut Kuchiki up once and for all when he felt a strange lightening of the load over his left shoulder. His hard-earned skull (I mean, seriously, any idea how hard it is to kill something that tough and leave identifiable pieces?) was melting away.

"Oh, shit," Kenpachi commented.

"It is as I thought," Byakuya responded with a trace of smugness. "The deeper and more complex the personality of the Hollow, the longer it can hold itself together past the point of critical damage. So if you become one, Zaraki, you will be in terrible danger."

Before Kenpachi could deliver that crushing reply which was definitely on its way and just a matter of time, however, both men heard a familiar roar in the distance. Kenpachi perked up immediately.

"A Menos Grande! Now we're talking!" Kenpachi took off at flash step speed, with Byakuya closely following, attempts to overtake being inhibited by an irregular treeline.

"Scatter, Senbonzakura!"

"Bwahahahaha!"

Between two eager captains, the poor Menos never really stood a chance. Shortly after realising that its Ceros were having no effect and that its mask was taking more damage with each passing second, it came to the wisest decision of its long and generally pointless life - it opened a Garganta to retreat.

"Hahha! Think you can get away, huh?" Kenpachi charged after it.

"No, Zaraki, stop - that's a Garganta!" Byakuya, without particularly thinking about it, accelerated his flash step to its limit to try and catch Kenpachi before he was too far in.

The following three things happened at the same time. Byakuya grabbed Kenpachi by the collar and spun around 180 degrees. Kenpachi released a blast of spiritual force through his blade that shattered the Menos's mask once and for all, killing it. The Soul Society end of the Garganta closed.

"Oh."

-o-

Day ?

"Zaraki, how long have we been walking aimlessly through this endless desert?"

"Dunno. There's no day or night, so how am I supposed to tell time?"

"Zaraki, if I did not think that your assistance could conceivably be useful in escaping this quite literal hell, I would eviscerate you without a second's thought."

"To tell ya the truth, I've always wanted to fight you too. It was gonna be your graduation test."

The day wore on. Maybe even days. Weeks? Who knew. Eventually, tired of walking, the two decided to make camp. Kenpachi gathered some of Hueco Mundo's strange, semi-crystalline trees as firewood. He left it to Byakuya to start the fire.

"Way of Destruction Number Thirty-One: Red Fire Cannon!" A ball of flame erupted from Byakuya's palm, flew straight for the firewood... and created an explosion that showered both of them in what felt like half a mountain's worth of sand. After some coughing, Kenpachi turned to him.

"What the hell was that?"

Byakuya did his best not to look sheepish. "I was attempting to start a fire."

"With destructive magic? Are you off your rocker?"

"It is not something expected of a nobleman." Byakuya took a step back. "Such menial tasks are what servants are for. Those of superior virtue and intelligence are supposed to dedicate themselves to more significant pursuits, while their inferiors take care of inconsequential mundane matters."

Kenpachi sighed. "Man, with that attitude you wouldn't have lasted an hour in Zaraki."

Byakuya froze.

"The district, man, my home district." Kenpachi shot him a look.

Byakuya unfroze. "Yes, of course. I was fully aware of what you were referring to."

"See, that's the trouble with you aristocrat types," Kenpachi sighed as he started rubbing a couple of branches together. "You spend so much time thinking that you forget that sometimes stuff just needs doing. You don't become a real man just by thinking about it."

"If you do not think, Zaraki, you will never know which things are important enough to be worth doing." Byakuya tried to make up for his earlier embarrassment by re-gathering all the scattered firewood. "As for becoming a real man, tell me: just how do all these ridiculous tasks you have been setting me relate to it?"

"Well, that's obvious. A man's gotta know how to have fun. A man's gotta be brave and confident so he can take what he wants. A man's gotta keep getting better by competing with other men. And - this one's so important I made it the main lesson for Day One - a man's gotta be able to face all the crap that piles up deep down in his soul and tries to eat him from inside out. That's why I got ya drunk, Kuchiki. Not just for fun, but because I thought you were pushing so much stuff down that it needed help coming back up. Guess it didn't take, though."

Byakuya looked at him thoughtfully. "And just what makes you think that you are qualified to teach me anything about my soul, Zaraki?"

Kenpachi grinned. "Because you're a pansy and a coward."

"I beg your pardon?" Byakuya hadn't expected a direct assault. In retrospect, it was strange to have expected anything else from Zaraki.

"Ya heard me, Kuchiki. You think that acting like you're a stone wall makes you better than everyone else, but you're just a wimp who's scared that his anger will chew him up and spit him out if he lets it loose for just a second." Kenpachi's grin widened, as if he was saying something very funny.

"That is simply not true," Byakuya retorted through gritted teeth. Of course he was in control of his anger - look how much strength he was using to stop himself from displaying it directly like some uncultured commoner.

"Whatever. So you're a liar as well. What else you lying to yourself about, Kuchiki? How about that little sister complex of yours?"

The anger inside Byakuya built to a raging inferno. He was about to squeeze it back and deliver some sort of scathing retort, and then something occurred to him, the maturation of a seed that had been planted on that day he'd spent disguised as a brothel-traversing miscreant. He was in Hueco Mundo, an incalculable distance away from any world he'd ever known. He would doubtless soon perish of starvation in any case, he was trapped with no way back to civilisation, and the only other being here with him was one who acted as if honour, reputation and social niceties simply didn't exist. The insight crystallised into two simple words: Why. Not.

Byakuya flew at Kenpachi with his fists aimed squarely for the man's face. The first fist made it through, but Kenpachi dodged the second one and responded by punching Byakuya in the stomach. Before long, the two were rolling around violently on the sand, fists and feet and knees and elbows and just about any part of the body that could be used to do damage being employed in that capacity. Two Soul Slayers lay forgotten as the captains attempted to settle their differences in oldest and most widely accepted way possible.

Eventually (and with captain-level stamina, that was quite an eventually), the two found themselves lying side by side, gasping for breath as they stared up at the eternally dark sky. "You know... you ain't... half bad... Byakuya."

"Whatever... makes you... feel better... about... your crushing...defeat..." a very long pause indeed. (it's not even a name, it's just a hereditary title, of course I can say it)"... Kenpachi."

"Anyway, well done." Kenpachi looked sideways at him. "You pass Day Whatever."

"Thank you most kindly." Byakuya was back to his normal self... more or less.

"Say," it occurred to him, "does it not seem like all those flying Hollows overhead are flying the same way?"

"Yeah. So what?"

"Well, suppose they are flying to Las Noches?"

"Suppose they are?" Kenpachi tried to follow the line of reasoning. "You think we should go tear Aizen a new one?"

"Not the two of us, no. It would be unwise to start a war without the Captain Commander's direct permission." Byakuya did not add that they couldn't begin to estimate the size and power of Aizen's forces. "But if we could infiltrate the citadel, perhaps we could force one of his minions to open a Garganta for us, and escape with valuable intelligence."

"Well, beats lying here."

-o-

A lot of walking and some mugged Arrancar later...

"Halt, miserable worms. Identify yourselves, before I, the great Fanndanga, crush your bones into dust." The Arrancar gatekeeper, very large and with inversely proportional intelligence, sneered down at the strange figures dressed in grey rags and with their mask fragments looking oddly as if they'd been attached by wire. The one on the left, wearing a skull helmet and having the lower half of its face concealed by a pale green cloth, was all right, but the other one had bits of black showing through the strange bone spikes sticking out of its head.

The one on the left stepped forward. "I am Hasta Lavistarr, and this is my companion, Lavida Lokka."

"Yeah, well, you can't come in. We're on maximum security while Lord Aizen and the Espada are away doing Cero-building exercises."

"How dare you, commoner?!" Hasta Lavistarr strode forward. "Who do you think you are? We are elite spies for Lo... Lo... our glorious leader, tasked with seeking out invading Death Gods, and we require the resources of Las Noches to compile our report before his return. Hinder us at your peril."

"H-Hey, I'm just doing my job." The Arrancar was rather taken aback. He was used to other, smaller Arrancar treating him with more fear and respect, especially since everyone knew about his unique soul-shattering power. Anyone who knew and still looked down on him could be anything - even an Espada in disguise. "I have nothing against you - sir - but this other guy just doesn't look quite right."

Lavistarr sighed. "My poor companion obtained great power from the Jewel of Annihilation, in return for equally horrific ugliness. Do not judge him too harshly."

At this, the other, taller Arrancar stirred. "Say that again, err... Hastur, and you'll feel the full power of my Resurrección, Caballo Pequeño."

Feeling it to be the safest option, the gatekeeper stood aside and let them pass.

-o-

Soon afterwards, in a Las Noches storeroom...

"There. That should be your make-up reapplied, Kenpachi. Try to move more slowly, or it will all come off again."

"Huh. Might have known you'd be good with make-up, Byakuya." Kenpachi stared at him, secretly slightly impressed that the man's makeshift disguise had fooled a real Arrancar.

"Acting is considered one of the high skills which it is respectable for any nobleman to learn, my ignorant friend. You surely do not believe we would gather to see commoners act out our ancestors' greatest moments on stage?"

"But speaking of skills..." Byakuya decided that this was a good time to ask something which had been bothering him for a while. "You are not creative enough to have invented the torture manual you call your Manhood Training Programme on your own. Who put you up to this, and why?"

Kenpachi shrugged. What was the point of lying at this stage? "Yoruichi. She said if I could keep you busy so you wouldn't be anywhere near the Kuchiki Clan Compound for a week, she'd give me the thing I most wanted."

"And what is that, dare I ask?"

"She said she could get me Ichigo, at full strength and burning with passion, right in the middle of the Court of Pure Souls, a week from when I started distracting you. She even told me some magic words that she swore would make him desperate to fight me to the death." Kenpachi's eyes glazed over with a dreamy look of anticipation.

Byakuya was starting to get a very bad feeling. "Ichigo? In the Court of Pure Souls? Well-rested? Quick, Kenpachi, what were the words?"

"Kuchiki Rukia, I'm going to kill you slowly and painfully, I think they were. Not sure how she knows they'll work - he's already fought me to rescue her once, and that was way more serious than just a threat."

Byakuya did his best to put two and two together. Ichigo. Rukia. The Kuchiki clan compound. Burning with passion. Oh, no.

"We have to hurry, Kenpachi. It may not... it may not be too late to save my sister."

"Uh... OK, let's go?" Kenpachi shrugged.

As the two crossed a vast open area in search of Arrancar to kidnap, however, they gradually came to a realisation that they were being surrounded. Hollows, masked and unmasked, swarmed in from every distant entrance, with a tall Arrancar in shining armour at their head.

"Pitiful intruders!" He laughed at them. "Did you think you could just sneak into Lord Aizen's citadel and not have our security systems identify you in seconds? Did you think we would not have spirit pressure sensors capable of detecting even the most suppressed Death God energies?"

At this, the two had no choice. Discarding their disguises, they drew (or, in Kenpachi's case, hefted slightly more menacingly) their Soul Slayers.

"Charge, my minions!"

The battle began.

Kenpachi's sword clove through Hollow after Hollow, sometimes taking down three at a time as he crushed the skulls of any who came too close with his spare hand. Byakuya wove through the crowd like a wind of death, untouchable yet all too tangible in the wake of destruction he left behind. At times, he fired off destructive spells to clear the way when the masses of Hollows looked too thick to navigate.

However, as the battle wore on, slowly the captains were beginning to tire - and the Arrancar still had their Resurrecións to fall back on. Coming up from beneath a mountain of Hollows for a second, Kenpachi shouted. "Hey, Byakuya, how about using that Shikai of yours to speed things up? I'm getting bored of slaughtering weaklings."

"Certainly not!" came the response. "One of the first lessons at the Spirit Academy is that you must hold back powers like Shikai and Bankai until the right moment, or until they are truly needed. If we all used our strongest powers against opponents who did not absolutely require it, we would forfeit all sense of battlefield aesthetics!"

Kenpachi marvelled at Byakuya's ability to deliver a speech like that in mid-fight, then shrugged and dove back into the fray.

But the tide of Hollows did not slow down, and breathing was starting to become difficult for both men. And that was when the Arrancar leader reappeared, swiping at Byakuya's throat with long, shining claws. Swarmed by minor Hollows, Byakuya couldn't quite step all the way back, and the treacherous slash dealt him a critical wound that no amount of Fourth Squad magic could ever heal. It tore his scarf.

For a few seconds, the battlefield went unnaturally silent, as if Byakuya's crescendoing spirit pressure was blocking out all sound. His eyes glowed with an unspeakable inner fire as he faced his opponent without a hint of expression on his face. Then, in a voice as cold as a glacier and simultaneously as furious as a raging volcano, he said three words.

"Bankai. Senbonzakura Kageyoshi."

All hell broke loose. Screaming tornados of tiny blades shredded lesser Hollows just by touching them, and slammed greater ones against walls and each other until they literally fell apart. Kenpachi sensibly took cover behind a pile of corpses and watched the display of Byakuya's unrestrained rage with approval. He watched Hollows being crushed by pure spirit pressure, and others practically disintegrated as they tried to flee. The sheer number of pink blades in the air reduced visibility like a thick fog, though for a second Kenpachi made out some helpless armoured Hollow being flung violently upwards, where it made a sizeable crack in the artificial sky before expiring.

Eventually there were simply no living Hollows left. About ten minutes after that point, Byakuya's anger had finally played itself out, and he called the blades back. But just before he could reassemble his sword, he saw one last enemy left to face. The Arrancar leader had somehow survived the assault without a scratch.

The tall, armoured Arrancar, with his eerie long claw hands and a mask fragment shaped like a square jaw, strode forward. "Well done, intruders. In return for entertaining me, I, Schwarza Negga, elite Las Noches guardian, shall face you myself. Tremble in fear, and know that-"

At this point Kenpachi decapitated him from behind. "I hate monologues."

However, Schwarza Negga's body did not fade away. Instead it melted into an odd pool of grey goo, and the head, having rolled some distance, turned back to them. "Very good. Very good. I see I shall have to bring my full power to bear against you. Terminate, Volveré!"

The head, too, melted into a pool of grey goo, then trickled to rejoin the larger mass. As Byakuya and Kenpachi watched, the whole thing somehow reassembled itself into a silvery metallic humanoid shape. With a sinister, toothy smile. It raised its hand, and its fingers elongated into blades, extending several metres and forcing Byakuya to flash step out of the way. At the same time, the other hand nearly repaid the favour by decapitating Kenpachi, who blocked with his sword, grinning as he anticipated a decent opponent.

Then things went wrong. Taking advantage of Kenpachi's distraction, Byakuya directed a stream of cherry blossom blades at the figure... and it absorbed them. Byakuya's eyes widened.

Schwarza Negga laughed in a hollow, metallic fashion. "My power is to become liquid steel! I can reform myself as many times as I like, and absorb any blade used against me. Incidentally, I am not vulnerable to magnets or electricity, so do not waste your time trying. Is there anything else you would like to know about my abilities before I kill you?"

Byakuya thought fast. While the Arrancar was gloating, he had already been quietly reciting an incantation. "Blue Fire, Crash Down!"

A bolt of brilliant blue energy struck Schwarza Negga, distracting him and forcing him to stop trying to disembowel Kenpachi. However, the bolt then bounced off, flying upwards and striking just above Kenpachi's head, widening the crack in the sky but doing no apparent damage to the enemy.

"And now you die!" Schwarza Negga extended several blade-fingers, causing Byakuya to dodge desperately while he tried to formulate a strategy. No swords. No destructive spells. Maybe a binding spell? But the creature appeared to be a shapeshifter. What was that loud cracking noise that kept coming from the ceiling?

Several minutes later, both captains were breathing heavily once again, and had accumulated countless minor injuries, while the Arrancar was completely unharmed and actually enjoying himself. Suddenly, as Byakuya barely dodged a strike that would have cost him his right eye, the entire battle paused and everyone looked up. Something important was happening up above.

Unbeknownst to anyone, Watchtower Seventeen, one of the special towers that emerged from the roof of Las Noches to oversee the surrounding desert, had had its foundations destabilised by repeated damage to the roof. Slowly but inexorably, it slid downwards, back into the dome. Entranced, all three warriors watched a full-size stone tower come into view, and then collapse, almost in slow motion, in a perfect vertical line like a Tetris block... right on top of Kenpachi's head.

This is when the laws of physics themselves struggled. The base of Watchtower Seventeen was made of the toughest spirit-strengthened stone, designed to maintain structural integrity in spite of having practically no architectural support and needing to bear a staggering weight. Kenpachi's head was... Kenpachi's head. An irresistible force was meeting an immovable object.

Contrary to expectations, Kenpachi did not get crushed. Nor did the impact send him through the tower base, leaving him inside the collapsing structure. Instead, after a moment of existential uncertainty that felt like forever to the observers, the tower, still perfectly whole, fell backwards and away from them, shattering into a million pieces of stone as it hit the ground.

Kenpachi, looking rather dazed, went "huh." The silence deepened as both Schwarza Negga and Byakuya just stared at him in shock, wondering what would happen next.

Kenpachi opened his mouth. "Wow. It all makes sense now. How come I never realised Soul Slayers were so straightforward? I'm gonna try something out."

Kenpachi held his sword out in front of him.

Time slowed down for Byakuya. As soon as he saw the posture, even though he was seeing it for the first time, as soon as he saw the first hint of a syllable starting to be formed by Kenpachi's opening mouth, he was pushing his flash step to its limits, desperately trying to get as far away as possible, no matter where he ended up. He knew what Kenpachi was about to say.

"Bankai."

-o-

Byakuya woke up in utter agony. Every tiniest element of his body was aching, which appeared to be an inevitable consequence of associating with Kenpachi in any way. Nevertheless, he forced himself to stand up and try to retrace his steps. He soon noticed that the sand beneath his feet gave way to stone, as if some incredible force had made the sand fuse into glass, and then keep going into obsidian. He briefly wondered whether this was actually physically possible, and whether the natural balance of the spirit particles in the area would eventually cause the surface to revert to sand. Then he moved on.

Finding Las Noches proved difficult, largely because there was no longer a Las Noches to speak of, not even ruins. Byakuya changed his approach. He decided to find Kenpachi. By using Way of Binding beacons and the circumference of what he assumed to be a circular blast radius, he eventually calculated the rough location of the centre, and headed for it.

Kenpachi was entirely unharmed, sitting on the obsidian plateau and looking rather bored. "Ah, Byakuya, I was getting tired of waiting for you."

Byakuya regarded him with a sort of reverent horror.

"Oh, relax, I forgot how to do the Bankai thing. Probably for the best - I mean, it would make fights kinda boring if I could do this every time, right?"

"Boring" was probably not the word Byakuya would have chosen, but he decided not to point this out, and instead got Kenpachi to start helping him look for survivors. The search did not go well.

"Allow me to clarify this," Byakuya said with a distinct note of frustration in his voice. "We are in the middle of Hueco Mundo, the land of the dead, and our main problem at the moment is that we cannot find a single Hollow. Only in your company, Kenpachi, could something like this actually happen."

It took some time before the two captains finally hit on a means to return home, which consisted of shooting down a flying Hollow with White Lightning, taking it prisoner and forcing it to open a Garganta, releasing it only when they were safely at the far end. The process was not as smooth as it could have been, partly due to Byakuya's poor aim at extreme distances and partly due to his initial tendency to fry his targets into oblivion (purely through misjudgment of intensity, and definitely not as Kenpachi substitutes). Eventually, however...

-o-

Day Seven

The two captains emerged from the Garganta somewhere in the Court of Pure Souls, relieved to be beneath the familiar Soul Society sun again. Byakuya took in his surroundings slowly and with satisfaction, then turned to Kenpachi and took a deep breath.

"Zaraki Kenpachi, thanks to you I have had my liver tested to its limits, discovered a thousand unspeakable practices that would make my honoured ancestors commit seppuku in shame were they not dead already, experienced every kind of physical, mental and emotional trauma under the sun - and a variety that no sun has ever witnessed, done things that no nobleman would ever conceive of doing in a million years, been stranded in a world endlessly hostile to living beings, and fought for my life against a vast, insuperable force of horrors on its home ground, with no hope of victory or escape."

Byakuya looked around very carefully to make sure no-one was listening.

"Let's do it again sometime."

Then, recalling that he had no time to waste, he set off for the Kuchiki mansion at top speed. Kenpachi, curious to see what would happen and not explicitly told to leave, naturally went with him.

What followed could have been immortalised in a highly inappropriate still life painting. Rukia and Ichigo, caught in flagrante delicto, frozen, looking up in shock. Byakuya, frozen in equal shock. Kenpachi, standing just behind Byakuya, not particularly shocked but staying still so as not to ruin the effect. And the gentle ticking of a grandfather clock somewhere in the distance.

Time passed. Gradually, Byakuya's hand started to creep towards the hilt of his sword. Then, in a flash, Ichigo (who had presumably noticed this) grabbed his clothes in one hand and his sword in the other, and jumped out of the window. Byakuya made to follow him, then stopped, helplessly torn between the obvious need to punish the transgressor at once and the equally obvious need to stay behind and have Words with his little sister. It was then that he felt the warm, heavy hand of salvation on his right shoulder.

"Relax," Kenpachi grinned. "I got this."

Somewhere far away, a black cat started to purr in satisfaction.