Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in the following work. All recognizable anime characters belong to Tite Kubo. All others characters are adapted from a diverse spread of cultural and mythological lore. I am making no profit from this story.

Author's Note 1: I am a terrible person. And for that I am sorry.

Chapter 23: The Fight in Us

We all, we all are gonna be alright
We got, we got, we always got the fight in us
We all, we all are gonna live tonight
Like there's no tomorrow
'Cause we're the afterlife

-Afterlife
by Ingrid Michaelson

Nights Since Orihime's Disappearance: 11 / Soul Society

That was weird dream, was Keigo's first thought upon waking. A weird and unsatisfying dream.

When it had started, he'd been sitting on a beach at sunset, listening to a woman just visible on a boat out in the water singing the most beautiful song in a language he couldn't understand. He'd tried to swim out to her, but the distance between the shore and the boat somehow kept growing every time he surfaced in the water, so that he was always in the middle distance no matter how far he'd swum.† What's the point of a beautiful dream woman who's eternally on the horizon? Real life was full of enough women that were out of his reach.

The second thought he had was, Madarame must have woken me up by throwing my sandal at me again. Because it was there in evidence, lying on top of his face as a minor but annoying pain rose in his forehead where the heel had struck him. Well, at least it wasn't my sneaker. Although neither he nor Mizuiro were anything close to Shinigami, they'd eventually been issued Shinigami robes. He hadn't seen their normal human clothes since they'd been sent out for cleaning, and Keigo guessed that they'd probably been stashed somewhere with Tatsuki's body and whatever other pieces of Karakura ended up here that didn't belong.

Mizuiro had been saying the day before that he suspected the robes had been a kind gesture on Ukitake-san's part, so that they wouldn't feel so out-of-place seeing as they were already in the awkward position of being human in a place of the dead. Keigo thought he was probably right, but a slightly bitter part of him wondered how many of the Soul Society inhabitants cared about their feelings, versus how many cared about appearances. Ichigo, Chad, and Inoue can't be their favorite people right now. Maybe the more we appear to be under their control, the better they feel about us being here.

When his mind had time to wander, he wondered what it would have been like to come here to Soul Society with them for the first time; if Ichigo, or Chad, or any of them had noticed what was going on with their reiatsu, and brought them here—introduced their "old" friends to their "new" friends. Would learning these new skills still be this nerve wracking? Would being able to ask Chad and Orihime if they struggled make things easier?

Chasing after that question is like chasing after that woman, he thought to himself. Pointless. He grabbed the sandal off his face and sat up in the bunk.

Madarame was sitting in the "watch" chair, trimming his nails with this sword. "'Bout time," he huffed in a lowered voice that Keigo was unused to hearing from the man. "Wake the others. And be quiet about it. Yumi still has two more hours to go." With their staggered sleep schedule, everyone got six hours. Madarame and Renji had started two hours before their human charges, but Ayasegawa, who had drawn first watch, decided to take his final two at the end when everyone else was awake rather than be woken after only two hours.

Keigo climbed out of his bunk in the middle of the room, straightened his hakama, and padded over to where Mizuiro was still asleep on the left side of the room, his blanket nearly drawn up over his head. He was just about to shove his friend's shoulders to wake him when he paused. He peered closer at the dark hair sticking out of the blanket. Yeah, that's Mizuiro…right? Not Tatsuki? He peered closer. …Yes. He stood straighter and craned his neck to look at the bunk above. Yes, that's Ayasegawa, so that's got to be Mizuiro. He peered at the sleeping human below…Right?

"Come on, while yer still young," hissed Madarame, who'd finished with his fingernails and moved on to his toenails.

Taking a deep breath, he put his hand between the shoulder blades of whoever was in the bed and shook them hard.

Mizuiro rolled over with a bleary groan, and Keigo let out a silent sigh of relief.

"Ugggh," said Mizuiro, "six hours is just not enough."

"You were doing it in your sleep again, man," Keigo told him in an exaggerated hush. Mizuiro looked at him with a confused, sleepy expression. "I couldn't tell if it was you or not!" he said insistently. "How do you do that when you're sleeping?!"

"I wasn't doing anything," said Mizuiro. "I was unconscious."

"You were doing it."

"But you saw me get into this bunk yesterday, how could you not know-"

"Why should I know how it works?!"

His other sandal promptly hit him in the face, and he belatedly realized his voice had grown louder as they were talking. "Idiots," said Madarame in a low register. "Wake the girl so we can get some fucking breakfast. She's the one with the tits, moron, just in case you're still confused."

Keigo rubbed his face and found the bravery somewhere to mutter quietly to Madarame as he crossed the room, "You know I'm right."

"Whaddya want, a trophy?"

He got to the edge of Tatsuki's bed. She'd rolled onto her back during the night, one arm bent above her head. She looked more peaceful and rested than he'd seen her since she'd gotten there. Since before they'd gotten there. You'd hardly know how dangerous she is, when she looks like this. Whatever crazy pseudo-nightmare thing had happened to her the night before, it clearly was not happening now.

Mizuiro shuffled over to him, trying to put his arms through his kosode. Keigo still needed to find where he'd discarded his own. "Well?

Keigo turned to him. "You do it."

"What?"

"You wake her up. Come on, she'll probably think you're someone else. Oh, pretend to be someone she won't want to punch in the face for waking her!"

"I still can't control this well enough yet!" Mizuiro said in a loud whisper.

"Well, think of this as practice!"

Madarame was rolling his eyes. "Tch. She ain't ever gonna respect you guys if you're too afraid to breathe wrong in front of her."

"Easy for you to say!" Keigo continued in a hushed voice. "You're a Shinigami. She can't crunch your face inside out!"

"Mrrrphm." One tattooed arm flopped over the bunk above Tatsuki's, but from the sound of it, Renji hadn't even bothered to pull his face out of his pillow to speak. "It's gonna go worse for you if she wakes up and sees you guys hovering over her half-dressed."

Keigo stood firm. "Says another person whose face she can't crunch," he hissed.

There was an irritated groan from the top bunk, followed by Renji leaning his whole torso over the side, one long arm reaching to grab Tatsuki's shoulder. Not fair, Keigo thought to himself, with his freakishly long arms, she couldn't even reach his eyeballs to scratch them out.

"Hey," Renji said, gently shaking her arm. "Time to get up."

Keigo could tell the exact moment she woke up, because while she hadn't really been moving, she became even more still than she already was. Breathing and any stray muscle movements stopped altogether, with the exception of her eyes snapping open. It's kinda creepy, Keigo thought to himself. He wondered if this was some weird warrior thing that that Valkyrie had been teaching her, though he wasn't sure what purpose it would serve.

Tatsuki stared silently up at the Renji, and Keigo was sure she was calculating the best way to use the unbound hair streaming down from him as a grappling point. Here it comes, he thought.

But all she said was,"This isn't helping my impression of you as an ape."

Renji grunted and pulled himself back into his bunk, climbing down a minute later. Tatsuki rose from her blankets and fixed her eyes on him, seeming to take notice of him for the first time. "You okay, Asano?"

Keigo hadn't realized he was still wearing his 'Life-Totally-Isn't-Fair-Ever' face. He sighed heavily. "Yeah."

"Then finish getting dressed so we can get some food."

He huffed and started to complete his uniform. "You mean so I can try to make people forget to feed me?"

Mizuiro was smiling. "Come on, Keigo, we always make sure you get served, in the end."

"I swear," he said while hopping into his sandals. "Something more awesome than being forgotten all the time better come out of this!"

When the group, minus Ayasegawa, had left the barracks, Madarame began loudly chewing out Asano about something to do with his "lack of a man's pride." Tatsuki wasn't sure what had brought on the disgruntled lecture, but she didn't really enjoy loud bickering this early in the morning, and almost unconsciously started walking slightly slower than the group towards the dinning hall to put a little distance between herself and the noise.

"It's not too late to refuse."

She started at the sudden statement, as she hadn't realized Renji had been keeping pace with her, though she tried her best to conceal it. Refuse? she thought, still brushing off the cobwebs of her deep slumber. Refused wha-

And then, the memory of what the day was going to have in store for her settled like a heavy weight around her shoulders.

Today I meet the creature Ma'at felt it necessary to pull me aside to warn me about. The death god that they even pick Captains to interact with carefully. As Ma'at had foretold, Captain Kuchiki and Hraust had come to give her the formal mission briefing later that day. It was laughably sparse on details, compared to what Ma'at had already told her, and focused mainly on the stipulation that she, Hraust, and Captain Zaraki would have to visit the human world for the meeting to take place. And of course, that I am under no circumstances whatsoever to even so much as think of disobeying any orders they give me.

Kuchiki's face had held a particular sort of sharpness as he spoke, the conflicted look of a person ordering another to do something they themselves disliked, balanced by the determination to fulfill his role as commander, regardless of his distaste for a task. Hraust, on the other hand, managed to look both tense and proud. A mother lion taking pride in the harshness of her own parenting. Tatsuki didn't resent it. After all, mother lions raise adult lions. Hard to argue with the results.

"I'm pretty sure it was too late before you even tried to grab me off the side walk," she said. "I'm almost positive you're overestimating my ability to refuse this mission, anyway. Hraust probably made it a requirement before she agreed to do it."

She tried to keep her voice light, but when she looked over, his face look troubled as he stared silently ahead. Maybe Ma'at was right when she said that he would object, and be overruled. "Is it really that bad?" she asked softly, turning her eyes to stare at the backs of their three companions as their lead increased.

He sighed and shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know. I've never met Shi—it's not considered an appropriate job for even experienced Lieutenants. And the Captains that have interacted with him don't talk about it. The one time I saw Captain Kuchiki afterward–" he shuttered. "I just…I don't want to meet someone that makes him make that kind of face."

She swallowed. "What kind of face?"

He paused, and made some meaningless gestures with his hands that suggested he was struggling to explain. "Just…sad."

"Sad?"

"More than sad, but…it's hard to describe."

If Tatsuki hadn't already heard some much more disturbing information about the god she was about to meet, she would have been thoroughly unimpressed. As it was, she was mostly just confused about how 'sad' fit in with what she already knew. Just what types of behavior makes Kuchiki 'sad' and 'unsettles' Hraust?

"So what, you don't think I can handle a little sadness?"

He turned to her and scowled. The expression seemed sharper on his face, more genuinely irritated with her that usual. "This is serious. Don't bother trying to pick a fight to deflect it. You'd be an idiot not to be concerned."

She sighed, her usual impulse to escalate the argument running dry. "Fine. You're right. But there just isn't a point to trying to make me more worried than I already am. This mission wasn't my choice. None of this was. But I've said it over and over again, I'm going to do whatever I have to do to get stronger. And that includes this. Whatever this is."

Renji's jaw clenched slightly, and he turned to stare at the road in front of them. They walked the rest of the way to breakfast in silence.

After breakfast, she and Abarai practiced her sword work for a while, both of them carefully not mentioning the impending mission that was only a few short hours away. While she'd tried to deflect it while around Renji, she was a bitnervous, and just the thought of trying to eat a full meal with her stomach churning the way it was made her nauseated. So instead of joining the others afterwards for lunch, she went off on her own to eat a few onigiri she'd procured during breakfast under the shade of a large tree, and tried to calm her mind.

There's no point to worrying. And yet, telling herself this obvious fact did not help.

Fuck it. She rose to her feet. It's just about time to meet up with those two, anyway.

She'd been told to meet Hraust in a tiny little establishment that she had passed in the marketplace with the boys earlier, which looked like it sold teas, cakes, and sake. As she approached, she could see Hraust was already there, seated on one of the stools near the front counter. Next to her on another stool was the enormous man that had towered over her the day he brought his tiny Lieutenant to loan her the powers she was currently using. She glanced about, but did not see the pink-haired girl in the small, scarcely populated room.

Between them were six sake jugs, five of them tipped over and obviously empty. The sixth was in Hraust's hand as she tilted it up and gulped.

"She really never talks about the fight?" Even with his back mostly to her, Zaraki's voice was loud, and carried across the space with a growled note of disbelief. Tatsuki found herself slowing her feet, wanting to hear more of the conversation before she interrupted it.

The Valkyrie chuckled. Chuckled. "Only as context for the rest of the story." As she spoke, she passed him the jug.

Zaraki snorted. "Fucking bullshit. Famous in the Golden Hall,* for that," he said in between gulps.

Hraust turned her head slightly towards him, and Tatsuki would swear she saw part of a smile, bright and full of amusement. It took her aback for a moment. It's like I'm looking at a totally different person. "You speak as if it were shameful," she said as she reached for the jug. "Sigrun does not think so, or else she wouldn't tell it. The rest of the Hall does not think so, or else we wouldn't take such great enjoyment in the story."

"Don't go putting words in my mouth, woman," he said as the jug changed hands. "I ain't ashamed. Just rather be remembered for fightin's all," he said as she drank.

She wiped her mouth with her arm, and passed it back. "Tch. Everyone in Valhalla is remembered for fighting. Every single man, and every single woman. How would we tell anyone apart if there isn't more to their story?"

He made a non-committal noise, and then without so much as glancing in her direction, Captain Zaraki said, "You're late, girly."

For a split second, Tatsuki froze at having been caught eavesdropping. When what he'd said about her being late finally pressed through to her brain, she managed, "Late?" She instinctually looking around for a clock before realizing there wouldn't be one. "Hraust-san told me to show up here just after the lunch hour so that we could leave."

"Tch. You're on time for the leavin', late for the drinking." Without turning his body, his long arm held out the sake jug to her, waiting for her to lift it out of his hand and take a stared at it, uncertain. Is he serious? She supposed it was unlikely there were age-restriction rules about alcohol in Soul Society.

Before she could decide how to react, Hraust snorted and yanked the jug from his grasp. "Do not be ridiculous."

The humorless teacher returns, thought Tatsuki. Figures she'd come back when I show up.

Zaraki looked at his empty, extended hand for a moment, and then rolled his eye in an exaggerated motion. "What, I gotta hear endlessly about how you two run around naked in ponds from my whole damn division, but she can't have a mouthful of sake?"

"It is a tradition, in the Hall, that you go to your first meeting with Fjorlagg without the benefit of drink."

He rolled his eyes again, possibly harder. "Pft. What's that even supposed ta prove? Not like anybody needs ta be drunk for this." He punctuated that thought by taking the jug from the Valkyrie, and upending it over his mouth. Barely a drop came forth. Hraust was already tapping on the counter for the owner to bring another.

"Then…" Tatsuki began, slowly. "Why are you both drinking?"

The owner brought a new jug, and he immediately seized it. "She's drinking because drinking our traditional booze or whatever helps her transition into this world. And if we're ever gonna actually sword fight† she's gotta keep knockin' 'em back." He glanced at her, and one eyebrow lifted slightly. "At least, I think that's why, and not 'cause she's shakin' in her snow boots over that rag-wrapped drama queen."

Hraust scowled at him and ripped the jug out of his grasp. "He's drinking because it's free to him."

Free? Tatsuki looked at the scattered sake jugs. That's a lot of free alcohol. "Why?"

Zaraki shrugged one shoulder dismissive gesture. "Tradition."

"What does that mean?"

The Valkyrie finished drinking, and thunked the jug back down on the counter. "It's tradition in many of the realms to offer drink to those sent to face Fjorlagg. Before and after. Under the common wisdom that it makes the experience…easier to tolerate." She shrugged, pushing the sake back Zaraki's direction. "The lack of charge is an expression of gratitude. The drink itself is an apology."

Zaraki snorted, and picked the jug back up. "Bunch of pomp and circumstance for nothing."

"But then why are you drinking?"

"Like the woman said, it's free. To the bartender's great regret." His gaze trailed off after where the bartender had been. "Hmm…though I guess old man Yamamoto will pay 'im later."

"Seven jugs is a lot to drink 'because it's free,'" she pushed.

The man laughed in a loud, wolfish sort of way. "I don't need ta drink my courage, girl. Just 'cause I don't need it doesn't mean I don't want it. I got the mission, I get the booze rights. They don't like it, they can get some pansy that'll piss himself in front of the rag-man no matter how drunk he gets."

"Oh." She paused, not sure what to say to that. She looked for a way to deflect the conversation, and then remembered exchange he and Hraust had just been having, that she was still curious about. Is it okay to bring that up?

But…they already knew she'd been eavesdropping, so there wasn't a point in keeping it a secret. Right? Might as well admit to yourself that you just really want to know.

"Is that what you guys were talking about just now?"

Hraust's face went from the irritated, tight expression that she'd adopted after Captain Zaraki's remark about the possibility of her 'shaking in her boots,' to 'Highly-Amused' instantaneously. The suddenness of the switch made Tatsuki question exactly what percentage of the woman's earlier ease was the absence of anyone in front of which she thought to maintain an air of authority, and what percentage was the effects of her share of six bottles of sake.

"Yes, let's tell her."

"Fuck that," the man snorted, taking another drink.

"It is fair she should know how it is you and your little girl came to owe a Valkyrie a favor,† if she is the reciprocation of it."

The large man rolled his eyes. "Feh, then you tell it, you want her to know so bad. Sound's like you've heard the story more'n necessary, anyway."

Hraust thumped her hand down on the bar again, presumably so that the bartender would bring her out her own bottle of sake, and turned her body towards Tatsuki with what Tatsuki could only call…eagerness.

She likes this story, Tatuski thought. Or, she takes great pleasure in embarrassing people. Pft, probably both. As weird as it was to see Hraust be more…casual with her expressions and emotions, she liked it better than the oppressive sense of responsibility, or whatever it was, that usually clung around the other woman. It's like seeing your teacher out of school. Plus, this version of the woman seemed less likely to attempt to beat sense into her by actually beating her.

"We've talked about how the realms are separated, yes? Well, that is…mostly true, but there are…" she waved her hand, as if trying to grasp an unfamiliar word, "…fluctuations. Things like tears, or weak, thin places between whatever it is that divides us. They aren't terribly common, and they aren't constant. Their appearance can depend on then alignment of the stars, the phase of the moon, on flares from the sun, on all of those things together in ways that are impossible to predict. Do you understand?"

"I think so…" said Tatsuki. "You're saying, a bunch of random stuff can cause random doorways between the realms to just pop up? Isn't that…I dunno, bad for security?"

Hraust took a gulp from the fresh bottle of sake, and shrugged. "Beings of power great enough to be a threat generally cannot pass through them. An Espada or a high-ranked Shinigami officer, for example, would probably not be able to utilize them. And besides, such things are too unpredictable to be used strategically, and too rare to have a specialized defense. In all my years, I have only even heard of it happening three times."

"Okay," said Tatsuki.

"Well," said Hraust, with a face that clearly said she'd provided all the relevant background, and now it was time for the 'good' part. "This is a story about one of those three times."

Tatsuki looked at Captain Zaraki, but he was turned facing the bar, somehow drinking through clenched teeth.

"Many, many decades ago now, a Valkyrie named Sigrun chased a Jotun through such a rip. It was mean, vicious, but a relatively young example of its kind, and therefore not immensely powerful. But she was new, and therefore not all that powerful herself. The winged helm was only freshly placed upon her head, and she was full of all the eagerness and recklessness that comes with such a thing." There was a note of whimsy in the other woman's voice, and Tatsuki wondered what reckless things she was remembering doing.

"Once they passed through the rip, they were both affected by the shock of being in an incompatible realm. The negative effects are easier the less power you have to begin with, but Sigrun was caught completely off guard, having not fully realized what had transpired in the first place. The Jotun turned it to his advantage, and nearly wrenched her head off her shoulders.

"However, they had both blundered into the path of a nameless, blood-thirsty man bearing a serrated sword." At this point in the story, Hraust gestured with one hand towards Zaraki, and tipped her jug to her mouth with the other.

"You forgot 'tall,'" he said dryly.

Hraust twisted her hand in a "sort-of" motion, and took another drink.

"What?!"

"You are a giant among your people. Among mine, you are merely taller than average."

"Feh."

"Anyway," continued Hraust. "The tall man made very short work of the Jotun, neatly cutting his head from his shoulders without much of a fight."

"Tch. I dunno how she tells it, but after I got it to let her go, I tried to get it to fight. After a while I just had to put the sorry excuse for a fight out of its misery, kill him and be done with it."

"Sigrun, having been caught by her enemy flat-footed and saved only by the stranger's intervention, owed him a debt she felt she could not leave without repaying."

"Wait," said Tatsuki. "I thought this was about his debt."

Zaraki groaned, and took a drink.

Hraust smiled. Smiled.

"As it turned out, the man was not alone. Imagine Sigrun's surprise, to find the man had a very small child with him."

"Child?" Tatsuki looked quickly to Zaraki, before it dawned on her. She covered her mouth in surprise. "Lieutenant Kusajishi?! She's your daughter?!" Tatsuki wondered why the obviousness of that hadn't occurred to her before.

"I found her," he said simply. But Tatsuki noted firmly that he did not say 'no.'

"At the time, Kusajishi was, in terms of human development, only a few years old. A few years old, and still pissing her clothes because she'd not yet learned…what's the current phrase for it?" Hraust motioned at her.

"…potty-training?"

Hraust wrinkled her nose. "That's what you call it now?"

"I didn't name it!" said Tatsuki. She glanced at Zaraki, who was still faced away from her, and still drinking. "Wait, you mean…"

"Sigrun…potty-trained Kusajishi when she was a young child," Hraust smiled. "And no more washing piss-stained clothes in the river for the nameless swordsman." Zaraki only grunted in acknowledgement.

"But then…why do you owe a Valkyrie a favor? Aren't you two even?"

"Pft," said Zaraki, practically into the sake jug. "If you helped someone carry their bags, and they gave you a house, would ya call that even? Killin' that giant wasn't worth the value of the favor she did me an' the kid in return."

Huh. Thought Tatsuki. Obviously he knew he'd probably never see that same Valkyrie again. I guess this would be a very rare opportunity to return that kind of favor by proxy—him and Kusajishi both.

"How did she get back to the Norse realm?"

"Ya know, I never quite figured out what her plan was. I don't speak Ice Country, and her "Japanese" sounded like two birds squawking at each other."

Tatsuki frowned. "But potty training takes a couple weeks. How did you talk to each other all that time if you didn't speak the same language."

Zaraki took another drink and shrugged his shoulders. "Wasn't all that hard. 'Leave the big one to me,' 'Start the fire while I skin and gut this,' 'Moan quieter or bite something but don't wake the damn kid.' Not a whole lot there you need words for."

Tatsuki stared blankly at the man as he continued to drink from the sake bottle and refused to blush. She looked over at Hraust, but the woman just made a shrugging gesture that seemed to say, What? He's right.

"When she was sure the kid had the hang of it, we went our separate ways. Don't know what she did to get back."

"I can answer," said Hraust. "She traveled to the Seireitei, where she appealed to the Gotei 13 and Central 46 for assistance in returning to the human world. After confirmation of her credentials and some back-and-forth diplomacy, her request was granted. From there, she was able to return on her own by way of the Bifrost, one entertaining tale richer."

"And she tells this story all the time in Valhalla?" Tatsuki asked. Zaraki is right. Seems kind of…domestic to be a good story for a bunch of battle-hardened warriors.

"Among the Valkyries and female einherjar, it is a particular favorite." She took a drink. "Valhalla is a place where people who have the spirit, desire, and will to fight tooth and nail against the forces of chaos are gathered. While skill in fighting is actively sought, a skill can be taught. Strength of spirit cannot be learned."

Something in her words suddenly made Tatsuki recall the first moments she'd met the woman, when Hraust had stepped forward at the meeting to claim her as a student. The way she'd volunteered the instant Tatsuki had decided to pounce on the man insulting her, and how the woman's stare had felt like it was pinning her to the wall. How she'd introduced her self as a "Chooser"...the framework to understand these moments suddenly clicked into place with an almost audible snap.

My 'fighting spirit,' thought Tatsuki. That's what she saw in me, at that moment. And that's why she's doing all this. Because selecting people with the 'spirit' and teaching them the 'skill' is literally the very nature of what she is. Some how, the stern way the woman insisted on training her had made her think the woman's objectives were more calculated than that. Tatsuki wasn't sure what to do with this realization, so she decided to store it away and her brain and examine it later.

"In my time, the surest way to display that spirit was to die fighting. And while there are women that came to Valhalla and Folksvanger at all ages, of all types, in all manner of ways, there was never a shortage of women that died desperately protecting their children. Sigrun herself died this way, and she likes to tell this story whenever we are welcoming a new sister who came to us in this manner."

"So…" said Tatsuki as the other woman began to drink again. "They…like it because they miss their kids?"

Hraust's face did something strange and complicated that Tatsuki couldn't interpret, but it ultimately folded into an expression that Tatsuki thought of as one of her 'detached educator' faces.

"I would not say that you haven't endured hardships, child, but the world is a crueler place than you have experienced first hand, and 1,000 years ago it was just as cruel, if not more so. Some women who fought like vixens to defend their babes only managed to buy them a few more minutes of life. And some of them left living children that, before their corpses had even cooled, were sold or traded as thralls*, sacrificed to foreign gods, and worse things still."

She glanced very briefly, almost surreptitiously at Zaraki, who still faced away from them, but whose shoulders had relaxed from an irritated, defensive posture. He took a drink. "Captain Zaraki, a formidable and ferocious man, found Kusajishi, an orphaned infant that was vulnerable, fragile, and nothing to him, and took care of her, with a patience that is not always found in blood-bound fathers.

"They do not love this story because they miss their children. They love this story because they loved their children, because they never stopped loving their children. Because their greatest wish at their moment of defeat was that someone would take over protecting them and loving them as much as they did."

That somber thought settled around all three of them like a fog, the sadness of it a weighty thing Tatsuki could feel in her chest, until it was luckily broken by the sound of the owner setting a fresh bottle of sake down on the bar a little harder than strictly necessary, causing Tatsuki to wonder if he'd been listening.

Hraust immediately grasped it and stood up, slapping Zaraki on the back as if trying to disperse the sullen mood. "And that is why you aren't just known for fighting in Valhalla. So cease your complaints." Zaraki only grunted, and also rose to his feet.

Tatsuki felt almost rooted to the spot, "I…I'm sorry."

Hraust tilted her head in the middle of drinking. "Pardon?"

"You…I'm sorry…about your children." After what went from an amusing story to what seemed to be a deeply emotional one, she felt she had to say something. But Hraust only flicked the hand that wasn't holding the sake jug, as if brushing Tatsuki's words away.

"I can appreciate the thought, but I was not a mother."

Tatsuki only stared as the other woman turned and thumped the bench with her hand.

"Barkeep! Two for the road!"

Nights Since Orihime's Disappearance: 11 / Earth

For all that Renji had tried to warn her about Fjorlagg, unaware that she already knew much more about him than he himself did, he should have warned her about Baron Samedi.

Although they were only traveling from Soul Society to the human world, the fact that only one of them was a "true" Shinigami meant that nobody in Soul Society wanted to take any chances. Baron Samedi was asked to be present during both their entrance into the human world, and their exit.

Tatsuki had been told that she would meet the god, but for all she'd been expecting the stark white skull painted over dark skin, for all she'd expected the top hat and the cigar casually dangling between his fingers, she did not expect the…lasciviousness.

Her feet touched down in the human world at the nexus between two paths that looked like they had once been paved, but had been neglected for far too many winters. One ran a circuit that stretched out to either side of her, then curved back to ring around a large steel fence that stalwartly guarded what looked like a decrepit industrial complex that rose, crumbling, behind her. The other was a road that came from that complex, running under a heavily padlocked fence and into a clearing hemmed by a straggly forest of sickly-looking trees.

We aren't in Karakura, Tatsuki thought to herself. In fact, as she looked around at the abandoned, dilapidated factories and forbidding barbed-wire rims of the fence, she realized that she had no reason to think they were even in Japan.

She didn't dwell on their location, but instead focused on the figure that was leaning against some sort of metal post just off to the left of the crossroads, that looked like it might have once been a traffic stop.

The skull of his face bore bright white teeth in a leering smile.

"After all the talk I been hearing, thought you would at least show up naked, girl."

Tatsuki blinked.

Then blinked again.

"Baron Samedi," Hraust greeted him. "Thank you for your assistance."

He let out a huff so exaggerated it was almost assuredly fake. "And you, all uptight on your way out of the frozen lands, you get to Soul Society and go splashin' round in rivers with pretty young things. But come on back, and not even the decency to show up wet. I ask, what kinda gratitude is that?"

Tatsuki realized her mouth was slightly open. The exchange had distracted her from whatever reflexive reaction she might have made, and she looked at Hraust to see how the woman would respond to such…what do you even call it?

But then she saw Hraust, and realized that she was wearing completely different clothes than they'd left in, or indeed, than she'd ever seen her wear. And they were stunning. Across her forehead curved a thick metal circlet, with attached wings stretching back over her temples that were so detailed they looked like actual feathers grown from metal instead of only carved from it. Her long brown-blonde hair, which had always been simultaneously tied back and sliding loose, tumbled in waves down her shoulders and over a bright breastplate that reflected the meager rays of the sun. The breastplate was not shaped to a woman's form,* but swirling knot work embossed it in ways that suggested a woman's curves. A leather studded skirt, impractically thin lace-up sandals, and a plush, blood-red cape that clasped to her shoulders and fell down her back just past her knees completed the image.

What the—

Hraust seemed to smirk at Samedi, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Have to leave something to the imagination."

"Tch. You say that, but ain't nobody in Soul Society gotta imagine this one tits." He barked out a sudden laugh, "I bet with this one around, Abarai's face is always red as his hair!"

"Hey!" said Tatsuki.

"And look at how red she turns." He looked at Hraust. "We should push those two against each other, Snow, have ourselves a matched set of blushing awkward fumblers."

Hraust feigned as if she were considering the proposal.

"HEY!" said Tatsuki, louder.

Samedi was laughing so hard, he was wiping his eyes. It was strangely upsetting how the "paint" didn't smear.

"Oi. Zaraki. You bend Snow here over a table yet…or she bend you, hey?"

"Pft. Haven't even gotten a proper sword fight outta this one yet. Have ta wait until she's knocked back enough sake and onigiri to call her sword."

Samedi laughed from deep in his chest, took a puff of his cigar, and shook his head in amusement. "You, Zaraki," he said, still laughing. "Not many men I meet care more about that sword."

"Sounds like their problem."

Samedi continued to chuckle, then let it lapse as he puffed at his cigar, stretching a silence between them all for a long few moments as he gazed out in the distance.

"You'll meet 'im in that barren place. The dead forest.* Know it, shieldmaiden?"

Dead forest? Tatsuki thought. Hraust was nodding. "I do."

"Then feel free to make some haste. I'm glad to help, but this place is too creepy 'n boring for any hot-blooded person ta wanna stay very long, hear?"

"Pft. Boring maybe," said Captain Zaraki. "Ain't been nothing worth seein' here in a while. Fuck, even before."

"I can assure you that we won't dawdle," said Hraust.

Samedi smiled widely. "Hurry up and go then, so I can watch the roll of your hips while you walkin' away." He puffed his cigar, and a bottle of what Tatsuki thought might be rum appeared in his other hand, and he took a swig. He turned wicked grin to her. "You too, spitfire. Let's see you work that caboose!"

Tatsuki scowled, but for the life of her couldn't think of a way to simultaneously walk down the path with dignity and block his view of her butt out of spite. So, as all three of them started down the path that led from the buildings towards an over-grown, poorly up-kept clearing and a scraggly forest beyond, she just tried to walk purposefully.

When they were half way through the clearing, she heard Samedi shout, "Worse things in the world, then looking at three fine derrières!†" But when she turned, he was no longer standing at the crossroads where they'd met.

She turned to Hraust to see what the other woman thought of Samedi's cat calling all three of them, but when her eyes landed on the blood red cape, wondered all over again how the woman had changed clothes.

Hraust, seeming to feel Tatsuki's eyes, turned to face her. She followed Tatsuki's gaze and looked down at herself, and it seemed to dawn on her what Tatsuki was staring at. "Ah. It is what you'd call a…dress uniform?" Her voice turned up at the end of the sentence, as if she wasn't quite sure if that was correct term in Japanese.

"Where did it come from? I mean, just now."

"I summoned it when my feet touch the soil of Midgard. It is naught but a minor effort of will, here."

"So you wear that a lot?"

She snorted. "Of course not. But formality has its place."

Tatsuki glanced a quickly at Zaraki, and noticed that his outfit hadn't changed from the standard black robes and his Captain's haori. Do the Shinigami have dress uniforms? Do they have events that require extra pomp and circumstance?

"What does your regular uniform look like?"

"...Bloody."

She didn't say anything after that and Tatsuki decided to leave well enough alone. Besides, she could sense the Hraust growing more tense as they neared the meeting place, though she couldn't tell if it was something she could feel in the woman's reiatsu, or observe in her body language. It was a slight thing, but perceptible. Captain Zaraki, on the other hand, looked completely care-free, and Tatsuki would almost call his gait a swagger. He held the plain, almost minimalist katana that they had been charged with delivering to the Grim Reaper rested against one of his shoulders.

Just as they reached the reached the timberline, there was a sudden rush of wildlife out of the forest, various animals bounding around them and scattering in all directions. Stampede would have been an incredible exaggeration, but what it lacked in abundance of individuals, it made up in sheer variety of species. A dozen deer, a few foxes, rabbits, squirrels, and small animals that Tatsuki couldn't see very well in the grass and debris of the forest floor but which made skittering noises as they fled en mass. At least five types of birds took flight, from small birds fluttering furiously as they abandoned their nests to large hawks screeching their displeasure as they caught an updraft and circled away.

"What in the world," Tatsuki said and as she swung around to observe it all as they passed. "Did we scare them off?" She was too startled to sort through her memories of her encounters with Shinigami and Arrancar in the past to determine how their presence affected the wildlife, and she doubted she'd had the presence of mind to notice that type of thing at the time, anyway.

"No," said Hraust, gravely. "Fjorlagg has manifested his presence in this world. Anything that does not subsist on death and decay—the detritus feeders, the creatures that feast on rotted flesh—anything else will instinctively flee in the face of his reiatsu."

Tatsuki felt a tremor run through her body, and looked around at the craggy, sparse forest. "Where are we?"

"We are in a country called Ukraine," Hraust said. "In a place that..." she trailed off, waving her hand as if she were fanning the air. Finally she looked at Zaraki. "I don't know the words to explain it in your language."

"Chernobyl,*" said Zaraki. "Pretty sure that's all ya gotta say."

"Chernobyl?!" said Tatsuki, and stopped walking. "You brought us to Chernobyl? One of the most radioactive places on the planet?!"

"Ah. Radioactive," said Hraust. "That's the word." Neither Hraust nor Zaraki stopped walking, and Tatsuki was forced to jog to catch up with them, despite her lingering shock.

"But–"

"What, you think you're gonna die from radiation?" Zaraki snorted. "You're technically dead right now. Death gods don't die of cancer, girl."

Tatsuki was silent for a moment. Oh. Duh. She let the relief flow through her. "But, why here?"

"The people of this area were mandatorily evacuated decades ago, and it will not be populated by humans again in this lifetime, or the next,*" said Hraust. "This…no man's land,* this quarantine, is the perfect place to meet with Fjorlagg. You saw how the animals of the forest reacted to his physical manifestation. We are still roughly a kilometer from the meeting place. Can you imagine what the reaction of humans would be, if this were attempted in Karakura? Where in the world can you go, and be certain it will be devoid of humans?

"And it is not just the absence of human life," she continued. "It is the presence of death that clings to this place like a pall. Death permeates the soil, here. Laces the water. Has left an indelible mark that will take even something as mighty as the planet itself hundreds of millennia to heal. This is as much his home as any place. And here, we are his guests."

Hraust lapsed into grim silence, and Tatsuki followed. As they trudged forward, Zaraki, seemingly the only person unaffected by the mood of the territory or the mission, began to whistle idly. Eventually, they broke through the craggy, semi-green forest into a more sparse forest of dead, reddish-brown trees, then finally into another large clearing* where no grass grew.

And in that clearing stood something that she had almost mistaken for a black-barked tree.

"We have arrived," said Hraust quietly.

Obviously, thought Tatsuki. She didn't realize the pressure that had been building behind her eyes until she saw him. The sheer weight of his presence made it feel like she was trying to breath the thin air of mountain passes, after jogging for miles.

"The negative effects are easier the less power you have to begin with," Hraust had said. She looked to either side of herself, and she wondered about what the other, more powerful two were feeling. Hraust, she thought, definitely felt it, her shoulders set as if she were defiantly carrying some great burden. Zaraki's posture, on the other hand, gave little away, though he'd stopped whistling. And is my imagination, or does his hair look a little flatter?

They continued to approach, and the feeling of pressure and dread continued to grow. As they neared, she could see that it was not just her earlier perspective, he was enormous. Far taller than Zaraki; at least eight feet in height. And where somewhere in her mind she had expected Shi, or Fjorlagg, or whatever to be a tall, she'd also expected…thinness. Something that invoked thoughts of skeletal guantness, fleshless and scrawny. While she could not discern much of anything of his form beneath a ragged robe so dark it absorbed all the light, his shoulder span, at least, had the breadth of something that was not a wastrel. Though, at the same time, what she could see of his outline looked too…angular for the curves of healthy human flesh. His head and any face he had were lost beneath the voluminous hood of his cloak.

When they were close enough to see the fabric of his cloak, she internally squirmed when she saw a fair number of large bugs climbing through its folds. As a centipede the length of her forearm climbed out of the obscured opening for his face and climbed down the neck and chest of his cloak in coiling undulations, she all but had to force herself forward.

Focus on the cloth, not the bugs, she told herself. The cloth itself was of the darkest black†, almost hard for her eyes to interpret. But the frayed ends that blew in the slight wind, flapping around his outline showed her that it was a ragged, torn garment. That must be why Zaraki kept calling him 'rag man' earlier. But Tatsuki could not imagine calling this creature anything so casual. Even 'Grim Reaper' felt absurdly wrong, while standing in his presence, if only because it lacked the depth to truly convey the solemnity and finality of the weight pressing against the surface of her eyes.

Hraust stopped 20 feet short of the barren place The Reaper stood, and Tatsuki immediately stopped a step or two behind her. Zaraki kept walking for another few feet, then seemed to peter to a stop when he realized that Hraust didn't want to get any closer.

After having observed a couple of official, seemingly ritualistic greetings—particularly between Urahara and Ma'at, she expected either Captain Zaraki or Hraust to say something long-winded or pompous.

Instead, Zaraki simply, lazily tilted his chin up and said, "We're here. And we brought it."

There was a silent pause, and the enormous thing shifted slightly under the robe. "It has been many moons, Precious," it said to Zaraki. "For you as well, Ardith," it said to Hraust.

"And you have brought new face, I see."

But instead of taking the time to sort out why it had called Hraust 'Ardith,' or why it had called Zaraki 'precious,' of all the most ridiculously absurd things, Tatsuki found herself overcome with a rush of adrenaline, grasping the hilt of her sword reflexively.

Because the voice that came out from inside the ragged hood crawling with vermin…had been Orihime's.

Author's Note 2: I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Life's been crazy.

I originally had an Ichigo POV in this chapter (and it's half written), but when I got to a place that this could be published without it, I thought, "It's been over a year. If people are even still reading this, they probably don't want you to sit on it another two months while you go back and forth on a section that can wait for the next chapter."

WITNESS! to the following shiny and chrome individuals: necro-wulf, reality deviant, Shinkansen, dragonlayer, Undying Soul98, DSaph, Callian31, Odysseus2099, InfiniteDragon, Tsuki No Uragawa, Khai-kun, Tibricel Tibby, Kaikai PANTS, i' . .polish, Starscape91, Kreion (who made some fantabulous art), and two Guests, as well as perkisaur, whose artwork I still shamelessly use for the cover even though I don't deserve it because I still haven't finished the fic trade. No matter how long it stretches between updates, I always read all the reviews you guys write and I hug each one tight to my chest.

As always, all comments, questions, and critiques welcomed, encourage, and embraced. I'll do my best to answer in a timely fashion.

*heart emoji* to you all for your continued interest in my poorly upkept story.

* Mythology Notes:

Golden Hall: Valhalla

Thralls: Basically, slaves.

Woman's form: Even thought fantasy series like to make breast plates for women sculpted for their breasts, if you fall in that kind of plate, you can break your ribs against the inside ridge. So, it would be a kind of stupid display of vanity to sculpt plate to your boobs for no real reason and make it less effective in the process.

Chernobyl: Chernobyl is the site of the worst nuclear disaster in world's history (April 26, 1986), in which the Chernobyl nuclear power plant suffered a catastrophic failure (e.g., explosions, fire) that released radioactive material that was 400 times that of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima. Experts have estimated that the immediate surrounding area will not be safe for human habitation for 20,000 years. (PS, holy fuck).

In case you're wondering why I didn't choose Fukushima, which was much more recent (2011) and located in Japan, that was actually something I considered. But ultimately, the loss of life and poisoning of the environment was much greater and Chernobyl (only about 10%-20% of the material released at Chernobyl was released at Fukushima, and and Fukushima reactors actually had concrete containment, limiting some of the worst of the isotopes that were released by Chernobyl). Overall, the gravity and desolation of Chernobyl just felt like a better match for level of foreboding that I want to convey with this Grim Reaper.

Dead Forest/Large Clearing: The Red Forest/The Wormwood Forest. The four square mile area immediately surrounding the Chernobyl reactor. The trees became reddish brown when the died following the absorption of massive amounts of radiation from the reactor failure. Parts of the Red Forest were bulldozed and buried in the ground in "waste graveyards." The area and soil there is some of the most radioactively contaminated on the planet. I'm playing a bit fast and loose with the dimensions of where the reactor/non-burned forest/red forest/waste graveyards remain, but suffice to say, where they meet the Grim Reaper is right over buried radioactive tree graveyard, surrounded by burned, dead trees.

Or the next: See "Chernobyl" above. The site won't be safe for more than twenty lifetimes.

No man's land: The Chernobyl Exclusion Zone is basically the restricted "quarantine" around the failed nuclear plant, including the areas of highest radioactive fallout and the surrounding (an area of approximately 1000 square miles). Although people are allowed in for research occasionally (with high radioactive protection), and there are reports of some weird hold-on people still living on the fringes, the chances that Tatsuki and the others will encounter human beings within a kilometer of the failed reactor is very low.

† Story Notes:

No matter how far he swum: Basically, he's trying to approach Breksta (who was guarding his dream just like she was Tatsuki's), and she's keeping him at bay. Personally, I like to imagine her a little exasperated at dream-Keigo's persistence.

Sword fight: Hraust has different three weapons she can summon (sort of like Bankai, and at the same time not really). In order of power: 3. Axe, 2. Spear, and 1. Sword. She was able to call the axe right away, and recently the spear. She's still trying to acclimate to Soul Society, so she has to drink/eat as much native food as possible to replace the energy she expends to work up to the sword. Zaraki really wants a sword fight with Hraust, in top form, so that's what he's referring to.

Owe a Valkyrie a favor: Back in Chapter 11, when Yachiru came to loan Tatsuki her power, Zaraki mentioned that he "might owe a Valkyrie a favor" and part of the reason he was okay with the swap. This is the story about what that was all about.

Derrières: I feel like Samedi would appreciate everyone's butt. Just saying.

Darkest black: Google Vantablack. Trust me.