Chapter 38

It was no longer possible to tell just how much blood was going to be spilled today.

Past grudges, current animosities, it all led to a single conclusion.

War.

"For the Vasto of White!"

"For the Seireitei!"

A cacophony of noises that deafened the entire area came from the lungs of thousands.

The air was fraught with tension, Yamamoto's brows creasing as more and more Arrancar appeared before him in vast quantities. They stood uniformly, forming squadrons that rallied behind central figures that Yamamoto would later understand to be called Espada. The left and right flanks were led by two women who stood prominently at the front, Nel on the right, Harribel on the left. At the center stood Baraggan and the others.

The organization was almost identical to the formations the Shinigami had set up with their Captains each leading their individual divisions. Yamamoto was quick to pick up on this arrangement and promptly shifted his gaze to the location identical to his own, the Head-Commander's.

An unmistakable shiver traveled down his back.

It was in that moment that Yamamoto stilled, countenance growing increasingly grim as astonishment appeared in his eyes. The grip he had over Ryujin Jakka tightened so much that the skin of his knuckles whitened.

We meet again.

A hollow of the past.

An enemy even he had not been able to kill.

Human in appearance and wearing a strikingly red mantle, it was the same bronze-coloured eyes that reflected compassion. The very one's that didn't hesitate to save a fellow hollow despite risking danger.

Memories that Yamamoto would rather have had left forgotten surfaced one by one: The inability of his attacks to phase the other party, and the means the other party had utilized against him before.

It dealt far more of a blow to his confidence than he was willing to admit. More so with a single fact.

The identity of the Vasto of White.

It was him, that walking monstrosity of a hollow.

"Head-Captain?" Unohana spoke up from beside him.

He shook his head, maintaining a neutral expression. He was the banner that supported the entirety of the Court-Guard-Squads, he would not waver for his was the will of the Seireitei.

"Ready your formations!" Yamamoto shouted, his voice carrying to the legions of black behind him. "Ready your blades, your wit, and your courage!"

For once in Yamamoto's career as Head-Captain, he did not adopt a passive stance. He simply could not afford to. His hands grasped onto the Haori on his shoulders and discarded it in the wind, the symbol of the First Division billowing in the air.

The will of the first 'Genryu,' Founder of the Court Guard Squads.

"The enemy stands before us!" Yamamoto's shout was resolute, unwavering despite knowing the strength of his adversaries.

A path and foundation that had been forged in violence and blood.

"Fight for Duty! for your Honour! And for the Balance of the Realms!" A decisiveness flashed across Yamamoto's eyes. "We are the Seireitei!"

The Shinigami fell oddly silent, the grips on their swords tightening as determination exuded from them in invisible waves. Toshiro had never seen the Head-Captain speak so gravely before let alone Shunsui and the others. It clearly spoke of the gravity of the situation, but they would not falter.

"I have only one order," Yamamoto tapped his cane, the wood surrounding it vanishing into embers to reveal the sword beneath. "Aizen and the former Captains are fine, but no one is to engage the Vasto of White. None of you truly understand what that individual is capable of."

Yamamoto's words carried with them an unease that was impossible to hide, drawing whispers from the ranks of Shinigami.

Unohana took a moment to stare at Yamamoto before leaning in closer and whispering.

"Head-Captain, was it that hollow?" Unohana's brows furrowed in consternation. "The one concerning your decision in the past?"

Yamamoto didn't answer, his silence was enough.

Years prior in the midst of the war between the Quincy, Yamamoto had decreed a command to all Shinigami active in the Human World to no longer hunt down any hollows. Even groups weren't permitted to act without clearance, leading to mass confusion as killing hollows was a natural doctrine promoted within the Academy.

Yamamoto himself had never explained the reason, but Unohana had a vague understanding as she been there when Yamamoto had decided to personally deal with the Lone Vasto Lorde of the past.

Mouth curving downwards, Unohana returned to the rear of the formations. She was the Captain of the Fourth Division, the Healing Unit. Unless pressed into action, she could not afford to expose herself or her fellow squad members to danger. It was their duty to keep those fighting alive.

It was with this consideration that Unohana had wordlessly left the front lines, giving Yamamoto a single deep glance as the man procured an emblem from his garments.

Plain in appearance and made of dark oak and carved engravings, Yamamoto peered at the emblem with a weary expression; his eyes focusing on the symbol of the Winter Daphne etched within the rhombus shape of the emblem.

The Protectors of the King, each surpassing the power of all Thirteen Divisions together.

The grip Yamamoto had over the emblem tightened, but he had no other alternatives. He needed their strength, for the speculation he had made in the past held true in his mind. The only equals who could possibly stand a chance against a hollow with the ability to create an entirely new world could only be them. Beings acknowledged by the Soul King and imbued with his power.

The Royal Guard, members of the Zero Division.

The emblem shattered in Yamamoto's hands, crushed into pieces within his grip and transmitting a direct message to the Kingdom beyond the seventy-two barriers.

An emergency plea not for the sake of the Seireitei, but for the safety of the Soul King's Dimension that the Royal Guard would not be able to ignore.

Until then, the Seireitei would perform its duties and fight till the death.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shirou's brows furrowed, a sense of unease manifesting from within him despite the confidence he had in his strength. Something was wrong, but he had no time to consider anything.

Yamamoto was making his move and the man would not listen to reason.

Shirou had fought him in the past, and the man of back then was both few in words and obstinate in perspective.

All Hollows were evil and had to be killed with no common ground to be had.

There was no changing Yamamoto's mindset for it was the common mindset of all Shinigami, and it infuriated Shirou just thinking about it.

It was true that Hollows were discarnate souls unable to find peace and transformed by their lingering emotions, but they too were souls. They could talk, touch, and feel like any other individual.

Coyote's visage appeared in his mind and the bitterness of it all caused his countenance to shift.

All she had wanted was to not be alone, for a simple life free of solitude such that howling together at the moon was perhaps her fondest and cherished memory.

Yet because of the Shinigami and Quincy's constant attacks in the human world, Shirou was forced to sacrifice himself, the only family Coyote recognized as her own for Coyote's own safety. And in the end, what had happened?

Shirou didn't even know if she was dead or not, the only clues he had were related to Starrk and Lilynette, and the two were acting too strangely for him to even consider questioning them.

Although he didn't show it, guilt had festered within him. What kind of despair did Coyote feel to have finally found companionship only for it be abruptly taken away in her unconsciousness?

He couldn't imagine, and the thought of the Shinigami and Quincy forcing his hand in the past left no more feelings of neutrality in his mind. Even without meeting the Soul King and questioning his existence, there were things that he simply could not agree with. His final reservations about the current situation were shed away layer by layer as he considered everything and came to a single conclusion.

If the world sought to kill those he cared about for the soul crime of existing,

Then he would shatter that reality.

Shirou stared hard at Yamamoto as the man brandished Ryujin Jakka in a practiced motion and unleashed a wave of heat outwards towards his allies.

The Remnant Flame.

The Strongest of all Fire-type Zanpakuto.

Shirou's eyes narrowed, interface patterns flashing across his skin as his arms spread forward, hands grasping at the air.

He didn't vie for power.

He didn't vie for ambition.

All he wanted was to protect those dear to him, sacrificing even himself to create a world that others may call their own.

Righteous, ethical, honourable, he didn't have to be any of those, just like the life of the saint of France.

A woman waving a banner amidst a bloodied battlefield, beckoning for the divine protection of her brethren.

To save those who could no longer save themselves.

To give courage where there was only despair.

The legend of the saint of the Hundred Years War, filtered through his mind.

The meaning of a flag whose purpose was to shield others from harm, resonating within him.

The symbol of an iris flower, the Fleur du Lis.

Shirou closed his eyes, clasping his hands over the shaft of a spear mounted with a billowing banner.

A battle standard made not to display ferocity or valor, but to provide support for the weary soldier.

A Holy Weapon that calls upon the providence of the Heavens, the blessings of an Angel.

"Luminosité Eternelle."

The spear-mounted flag pole of Jeanne d'arc manifested itself once more. Its resplendent flag unleashing a light down from the sky that shielded the burnt of Yamamoto's attack. Fueled by Shirou's reserves of spiritual energy, the radius of effect increased to envelope all those who would fight for his cause.

It was a golden sheen that fully enveloped one side with protections while exuding a holy aura that stunned the Shinigami watching.

They who donned mantles of black and red representing the Gods of Death, and the Hollows bathed in a Holy Golden Light.

The contrast in the present situation was hard for the Shinigami to swallow. They branded Hollows as evil, harbingers of misfortune and calamity, and yet it was not the Shinigami clad in divine providence, but the Hollows they had always denounced.

Ichigo himself who was within the security of the Saint's Banner only felt more conflicted.

Ichigo's body tensed in agitation as the sheen of gold around him eased off the pressure of Yamamoto's attack until it was insignificant. It was the same for all the hollows Ichigo saw around him. If Hollows were just savage and corrupt spirits, then how could they be blessed with such light?

They weren't evil. They weren't.

Ichigo couldn't understand where all the animosity was coming from. Looking at the Shinigami's eyes and watching the way they glared at Nel left him inwardly unsettled.

Before Shirou had acted to defend against Yamamoto's attack, it was Nel who first pushed Ichigo and Silent to stand behind her without any hesitation. It was Nel who smiled along with Ichigo when he progressed in power, and it was still Nel that was looking out for him despite the severity of the situation.

In comparison, the strict discipline Ichigo could see on the Shinigami's faces left little room for compassion. In fact, he didn't have the best impression of them after the matter with Rukia and their strict regard to tradition. If not for Karin and his friends standing in their ranks, there would no longer be a need to hesitate.

Presently though, Ichigo didn't know what to do and reality was cruel.

He didn't have long to decide.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yamamoto's expression flickered as his attack completely dissipated. As an experienced commander, he took notice of the confusion and disarray steadily spreading throughout the Thirteen Divisions.

They were stunned, the light of benevolence before them making them question the integrity of their actions.

Yamamoto knew he couldn't allow this to continue.

"Jōkaku Enjō."

The Fortress Blaze.

An immense wall of flame shot its way forward, enveloping Shirou, Aizen, Gin, and Tousen within. The heat of the flames was such that not even Nel or Harribel could draw near it, forcing all nearby Arrancar to vacate the immediate area.

And yet even as the flames encroached Shirou and the other captains within, a battle standard still stood standing erected upon a tall building.

Frail yet uplifting.

A point of rallying that all Arrancar looked upon even as the protective light gradually left their bodies.

Meanwhile, within the wall of flames, Shirou stood quietly before shifting his attention towards Aizen and the others. His lack of movement to avoid Yamamoto's previous attack was in consideration for his compatriots who evidently had no intentions of dodging.

"Is this all a joke to you?" Shirou asked harshly. He uncrossed his arms which he had left in a defensive position to ward away Yamamoto's flame. Clearly though, Yamamoto's attack was more of a binding skill than it was an offensive skill.

It irked Shirou all the more as it hadn't been necessary for him to get caught up in it.

"Of course, we're taking this seriously," Aizen spoke with a smile. "We're just taking in the bigger picture. Surely you don't plan for us to strike this early?"

Shirou's expression remained neutral as Aizen's words filtered into his ears, and it didn't take him long to understand. Shirou had always been an impulsive individual, choosing to act from the moment he deemed that something was unjust, but his years of experience enabled him to comprehend what Aizen meant.

Shirou was akin to Yamamoto on the Shinigami's side, and Aizen and the others equivalent to Captains. Therefore, revealing their strength too early would prevent them from taking the initiative later.

Everything was decided on the basis of revealing one's trump card and who would reveal what last.

It was a game of strategy where the superior strategist would not act recklessly and display their hidden cards. Yet if that meant that he would have to remain idle while others fought and died on his behalf,

Then Shirou couldn't accept it.

"You may not feel the need to act yet Aizen, but it's different for me," he said resolutely. "You may see the other Arrancar as dispensable but each and every one of them has placed their trust in me."

Shirou turned his attention to the wall of flame surrounding him and stretched out his hands into the fire. Immediately, tongues of flame crawled up his arms, intent on burning him to ashes.

Aizen watched the scene without saying a word, inwardly criticizing Shirou for his recklessness yet growing dumbfounded with what he saw next along with Gin and Tousen.

"The first fire gave warmth to the world. A remnant flame that did not burn for the annihilation of all, but for the heat of new life," Shirou spoke softly, watching the flames dance around him.

Neither Aizen, Gin, or Tousen could understand immediately who Shirou was talking to, but that all changed from the moment they noticed a reaction from the fire, almost like an acknowledgment. The flames didn't appear to harm Shirou, rather they moved around him in a calm yet swelling storm.

"You are Ryujin Jakka. A sacred sword of flame not meant to be used for the mundane."

Shirou tapped his chest, willing away the natural spiritual energy that protected his body. The sheer heat around him swiftly engulfed him in an infernal scorching wave.

No fear was reflected in his eyes.

No uncertainty.

He was steel in its truest form, unmarred, and untouched.

If not for the fact that he was a hollow, he would have been more akin with a Zanpakuto spirit.

"Can you not feel it for yourself? You are a flame meant to incinerate evil," Shirou pushed away the hollow facets of his soul and laid bare the presence of his inner world of steel and fire, the truest aspect of who he was.

"I am steel," he said. Strong. Hard.

A weapon neither evil nor good, simply meant to be wielded by a sense of purpose.

"Your fires will not melt me, will not harm me, for you as the will of a sword can already comprehend why," Shirou stared vacantly at the flames surrounding him. "I am not evil."

Shirou stepped fully into the wall of flames, his arms passing through first before finding leverage and pulling the rest of his body through. Far from what Aizen and the others were expecting, the fire did not burn Shirou as if his words had somehow directly been heard by the spirit of Ryujin Jakka.

For Aizen, it wasn't too difficult to accept considering what had transpired with Kyoka Suigetsu, but for Gin and Tousen, it was far different.

"Wait!" Aizen called out just before Shirou left.

Shirou, glanced back from within the wall of flames, an unwavering conviction in his steady bronze-coloured eyes.

Aizen faltered at such a sight. There was a certain strength held in Shirou's gaze that Aizen couldn't explain because he himself had never experienced it. He had always been both methodical and practical, never letting his emotions cloud his rationality, but for the first time, he felt as if he had to reconsider his stance.

There was a power to be found by acting on emotion, something that allowed one to achieve more than they were capable of even with a level mind.

As Aizen considered the prospect, he still ultimately defaulted to his own judgments.

"You are perhaps the greatest trump card we have, and therefore I advise you to reconsider," Aizen explained as earnestly as he could. "Revealing you now would only allow the enemy to maintain their hidden cards, leaving us disadvantaged."

Shirou shook his head, looking at Aizen with a pity originating from Aizen's lack of empathy- an emotion one needed to bond with others.

Shirou's gaze made Aizen feel uncomfortable.

"Like I've said before Aizen, Nel, Harribel, Starrk, Lilynette, and everyone else, they've all come to fight at my behest," Shirou turned his back on Aizen's warnings. "I am their light, their Beacon, so long as they choose to fight for my sake, I. Will. Not. Let. Them. Fall."

Shirou disappeared beyond the raging inferno, leaving Aizen with a troubled expression as Tousen felt inwardly moved. For Tousen had just seen a justice that was perhaps more beautiful than any he had ever known.

To save another not for obligation but because of an unwavering sense of untainted duty.

It was nothing like the justice that would allow a murderer to walk free.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Shirou traversed through the wall of flame, the individual that was the most startled with the chain of events was Yamamoto himself.

Yamamoto could feel the way Ryujin Jakka rejected his intentions to attack and instead even attempted to persuade him to reconsider his actions. It was preposterous, on the level of unbelievable, yet no matter what he thought, reality proved him wrong.

Within the sight of all present staring up at the sphere of fire forming a dome-like cage in the air, a hand pierced through the flame followed after by an arm and a leg.

Yamamoto's expression stiffened before he quickly took action, closing the distance in a flash and lashing out with his sword.

In response, a sword clashed against Yamamoto's own in a swift counter.

A blade of the darkest black, seemingly sucking in all light.

"You had your turn," a voice spoke to Yamamoto from amidst the flame. "Now I'll have mine."

A spiritual pressuring descended and clashed against Yamamoto's own in equal measure. The Captain-Class Shinigami in the distance were stunned into silence. Yamamoto wasn't Head-Captain because he was the oldest Captain, but because he was the strongest in his era. In his youth, it had even been speculated by younger scholars that no hollow was Yamamoto's match.

In the current instance however, the confidence the Shinigami had after all their training and preparations suddenly faltered; more so when Shirou fully emerged and engaged Yamamoto into a deathmatch in the sky his voice echoing out below with a grunt.

A message that only the Arrancar would understand.

Baraggan, I'll leave things to you.

A visible tremor passed through Baraggan's body, his hands balling into fists.

As the previous God-King of Hueco Mundo, Baraggan had experience in issuing commands to large numbers of Hollows. Of all Arrancar present, he alone was perhaps the most qualified to lead. He had once ruled through fear and deployed his armies through human-wave tactics, but after meeting Shirou, Baraggan had changed. The boredom of his everyday life replaced by a rekindled ambition to be better.

A rivalry formed.

It was a feeling that Baraggan had not felt since his days fighting to survive in the Human World, and now that practically all the Hollows of Hueco Mundo were under his control, he would not shame himself.

Looking around, Baraggan confirmed that the current area was not the Human World. The ambiance was different from what he remembered and most glaringly, there were no humans living within the streets. That being the case, Baraggan's attention soon shifted to the only anomalies in the fake Karakura town worth noting, four massive pillars that the Shinigami were heavily guarding.

Baraggan's eyes narrowed before he gestured with his arm, calling for his personal guards.

Ggio Vega and the other Hollows of Las Noches quickly arrived before Baraggan to assemble a throne of bones.

Baraggan's appearance currently resembled an old man with wrinkled brown skin in a plain white hakama and haori. He didn't possess the same level of intimidation as he did in his original form, but the fact that Shirou had given him command made Shunsui and the other Captains apprehensive.

"Ggio Vega," Baraggan called out after he was seated.

"Yes, my King?" Ggio answered, his appearance as an Arrancar resembling a black-haired young man dressed similarly to Baraggan.

"Take the rest of my personal guard and secure one of those towers," Baraggan commanded, the tone of his voice free of any pride or arrogance. Instead it was collected. "If the enemy proves too strong, retreat and await further orders."

"U-Understood my King," Ggio stuttered out in surprise. After all, having been under Baraggan's service for an innumerable number of years, Ggio had never known Baraggan to be lenient towards failure.

Regardless, it wasn't Ggio's place to question Baraggan's decision and he quickly took a unit of two hundred hollows comprising of Baraggan's personal guards and moved towards the southernmost tower.

Baraggan grunted as Ggio left. None but Baraggan himself was clearer about the change in his personality. He had become humbler, the prejudice he had had towards other hollows for their inability to compete against him quelled by his inability to defeat Shirou. It made Baraggan understand the feeling of losing and being spared out of mercy for the first time.

It infuriated Baraggan, but alternatively, it allowed him to grow stronger. Therefore, if sparing his subordinates from death a few times because of failure could make them grow stronger, then he decided that he could allow for some leniency.

He would no longer lead as a tyrant, but as an arrancar worthy of his rank as an Espada.

A gust of air blew across Baraggan's body, revealing the number '1' beneath his clothes.

"Harribel, take your flank and siege the westernmost tower!" Baraggan's voice was booming. "Nelliel Tu, the easternmost!"

Baraggan leaned his back into his throne, releasing a massive pillar of red spiritual energy while glaring down at the most heavily guarded tower before him. Thousands of Shinigami spanned the distance necessary to cross with Shunsui and Jushiro comprising the Shinigami's vanguard.

"Everyone else," Baraggan's tone was harsh as he drew forth his sword and pointed it forward. "With me. We're going for a slaughter!"

Baraggan's proclamation was echoed by a resounding primal war cry, thousands upon thousands of arrancar howling into the air as the Shinigami stiffened in their defensive formations.

"DEATH!" The arrancars roared charging forward, many being former members of Las Noches and fanatically loyal to Baraggan.

Harribel led her flank to the west as instructed while Apacci, Mila Rose, and Sung-Sun grumbled under their breath about Baraggan ordering them around.

Seeing Harribel move and the rows of Arrancar charging ahead of him, Baraggan decided that it was about time. He floated forward while seated on his chair towards the north.

If Shinigami were truly the embodiments of Death Gods,

Then it was time for a rude awakening.

The God King of Hueco Mundo was coming.

The Bringer of Death and Decay, the truest aspect of a God of Death.

Furthermore, on his person was not just the power of decay but an energy the likes of which none could have possible imagined or prepared for stored within a blade pulsating with a dull azure light.

A crystallized legend granted to Baraggan as a gift in the past and a direct compliment to his powers.

A weapon of a Hero of Old in which age only made it stronger like the finest of wines.

Baraggan's final trump card firmly kept hidden within his mantle.

A Noble Phantasm.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ichigo keep close, it's time to move."

Nel called out to Ichigo before striding forward to the east on Baraggan's instructions. Silent was already beside Nel, her expression grave while assessing the sheer number of Shinigami impeding their path.

Only Ichigo was still hesitating. Had it been anywhere else other that the east, perhaps he may have been more willing, but the easternmost tower was exactly where Karin and his friends were stationed to help defend.

He no longer had any time to think.

The sounds of war echoed out as Baraggan's, Harribel's, and Ggio Vega's forces clashed with the defenders of their individual towers. Only Nel was left and she didn't want to be left behind in her compatriot's wakes.

She was just as devoted to Shirou's cause as every Arrancar in the area.

"Let's go," Nel urged hurriedly, several hundred arrancar following her as she got fed up with Ichigo's hesitation and directly manhandled him.

"I can run by myself," he pestered as Nel dragged him by the arm. She eventually let go when he proved his words and picked up speed on his own initiative.

Nel nodded at him in approval before speeding a short way ahead where she began issuing orders to the arrancar under her.

As Nel, Harribel, Baraggan, and Ggio Vego led their groups, the Shinigami were not idle. All kinds of defensive Kidos sprang up across the battlefield with massive barrier-like temple gates creating heavy obstacles to overcome.

In that regard, Ichigo could only stare in Baraggan's direction in horror.

Baraggan was a monster in the eyes of Ichigo and the Shinigami in Baraggan's path.

Where other arrancar were hindered by the Shinigami's numerous restrictive and offensive Kidos, Baraggan alone was unaffected. There was a blackish purple miasma around him that disintegrated everything it touched. Kido, Shinigami, Zanpakuto, they all withered under Baraggan's hands like dust on a counter.

It was particularly chilling sight to see a man become a skeleton within seconds of exposure, more so hundreds of un-ranked Shinigami at a time.

Ichigo continued to stare in shock before Nel noticed and moved to run beside him, smiling wryly.

"To many Hollows previously living in Hueco Mundo including myself, it was by Baraggan's hands that we imagined our deaths would come," Nel said solemnly. "He was a tyrant, a hollow with the ability to kill anything living he touches. Even now it's jarring to me that I'm not fighting against him but alongside him."

Nel paused as she stared out at Baraggan single-handedly drawing the attention of all Captain-Class Shinigami in his area, thinning the number of Captain-Class Shinigami both she and Harribel had to deal with.

"Reluctant as I am to admit this, as an ally, I have nothing to complain about him," Nel bit her lips and resolutely put the matter aside. "Baraggan's doing his task, therefore I will do mine."

Saying so, Nel increased her pace once more, drastically shortening the time it would take her to reach the eastern tower, eager to prove her worth. In contrast, Ichigo was far from motivated. His current attitude about the war was perhaps most akin to Starrk and Lilynette.

Both Starrk and Lilynette were part of Nel's flank, yet neither of them seemed to care for anything other than staring at Shirou fighting in the sky, their expressions unreadable. It was as if they were transfixed, struggling with something within them.

Ichigo glanced once at Nel who assumed he would quickly follow after her, and then towards Lilynette and Starrk who didn't even seem to notice him as he passed by.

The oddity in the change of Lilynette's behaviour concerned him, but more than that, there was a more pressing issue.

His idiotic little sister was charging passed the Shinigami's defensive lines and lunging straight at Nel without regard for her safety.

Damn it Karin!

Ichigo's expression fell.

Karin's eyes were blood shot, her anger so acute that it manifested in her spiritual energy in the form of a roaring pink skull around her butcher-knife like sword.

"You bitch!" Karin yelled, directing all her attention on Nel who she had previously seen interact with Ichigo. "Give me my brother!"

Even from where Ichigo was standing he could hear the anger in Karin's voice, the desperation within it that struck him deeper than he could imagine.

Perhaps more affected then Ichigo was Silent.

When Silent had stood by Ichigo and Nel before, both Nel and Ichigo were tall enough to completely shield her from seeing Karin and Karin from seeing her.

With the situation as it was now however, with everyone out in the open, it was impossible for Silent not to see Karin.

In response, Silent stood frozen.

Ichigo who was beside Silent didn't pay attention to Silent's actions in favour of speeding forward in a panic as he saw Nel slash out with her sword.

"No, Nel stop!" Ichigo placed a hand on Nel's sword-arm and diverted the trajectory of her strike.

Nel's eyes widened before she shoved Ichigo away and hastily blocked Karin's incoming attack.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Nel grimaced as her blade pressed against Karin's own. The standoff produced a shower of sparks as the edge of both Nel and Karin's blades grated against each other.

Ichigo didn't know what to say seeing the confusion in Nel's eyes and the worry in Karin's. In the end, all that came from his mouth were stutters. "I-I was-"

"Mom," Karin's voice cut Ichigo off.

Both Ichigo and Nel stared at Karin whose lips slowly began to quiver.

In the midst of the sword-lock Nel and Karin were in, Karin's eyes didn't stay trained on Nel, rather they misted over as she stared at a certain direction.

Nel furrowed her brows and felt that there was something off with the situation so she promptly disengaged from Karin while pulling Ichigo along with her.

A distance of ten meters was created yet Karin didn't follow. Instead, her blade began to lower as she stared at Silent whose hands were anxiously crossed over her chest.

There was a tension in the air that was hard to describe. On one hand Silent felt compelled to step forward and embrace Karin, but there was an insecurity in Karin's gaze that prevented Silent from doing so. It was like a rift existed between them.

Silent opened her mouth, but no words came out. All she could do was smile warmly to convey her feelings, and that alone was enough.

It was the same smile.

It was a smile that Karin could clearly recall in her childhood, and it left her in a daze.

One of the arrancer Nel was in charge of leading took the opportunity to attack.

Karin's back was exposed and she made no signs of defending herself.

Ichigo flew into a rage, his emotional drive enhanced by his continued use of his hollow abilities moving him by instinct. Before he even understood what he was doing, Zangetsu was stabbing directly through the arrancar's body.

Said arrancar was stupefied, not once believing that he would receive an attack from someone who he perceived as an ally. Blood trickled down Zangetsu's blade and stained the white garments the arrancar wore in a deep crimson that horrified Ichigo as the ramifications of what he'd done set in. He hastily withdrew Zangetsu from the arrancar's body, causing the arrancar to stagger back.

"Y-You were Lady Nel's friend," the arrancar chocked out in disbelief, his sword clattering to the ground as blood sprayed from his mouth in a choked cough. "Why…?"

Unable to even respond in time, Ichigo could only watch as the arrancar fell limp and crashed into the debris of a destroyed building.

Silence reigned in the area.

Ichigo felt such regret that it was almost unbearable. The arrancar in particular had even once greeted him respectfully in the lands of the Vasto of White where all arrancar viewed each other not as enemies but as fellow brothers and sisters in arms.

Ichigo too had been a part of that community. He had even felt the connection each arrancar had with each other in their shared devotion.

As hollows, they had evolved together as single entities taking nourishment from swords made of spiritual energy. There was never a source of conflict, only the development of unbreakable bonds and comradery.

The arrancar in the lands of the Vasto of White trusted each other.

Fought alongside each other.

And took care of each other.

Which was why it was so difficult for Ichigo to turn around and stare at the face of the Espada who willingly trained him without any ulterior motives.

He didn't have the heart to.

Not when he knew that she was probably hurting far more than he was at his perceived betrayal.

Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck, the Big Sister figure of the Lands of the Vasto of White.