Chapter 31

The Arrancar, Tier Harribel, was loosing too much blood, far too much. Sticky, warm crimson drenched the lower half of Ichigo's Shikai Shihakshou as he flew through the skies of Las Noches at immeasurable speeds. Tier moaned and coughed into his chest. He gritted his teeth and kept dashing forward.

Ichigo adjusted his hold on her, as gently as his transcended state allowed for, and examined the wound in her belly, still oozing blood and other clear liquids. He'd cut through her belly and lower-ribs without thinking… Without any effort or meeting any resistance from her body. Her human-like body. Far too human. He'd assume she was if her breasts weren't covered by strips of thin bone.

She felt soft and weak, like he could crush her by accident. The thought gnawed at Ichigo's throat, a jagged lump of guilt refusing to dislodge.

Damn it all to hell.

Why did she have to attack like that? Why didn't she just answer clearly?

Ichigo grumbled a hot breath, seeing again the critical moment where he'd lost control and reacted—out of instict. Out of fear that she'd been hiding her true power from him. His blade had moved like a black death. The same blade he held now, inches from her flesh. Her scream echoed in his mind, hideous, unbearable to hear over and over again.

A wheeze cut off the phantom memory. Tier's sleek muscles clenched against Ichigo's arms. Her spirit energy and pressure dwindled, not even on Renji's level now. She was losing lifeforce like a dying human or Shinigami.

Ichigo had to do something… She was innocent. She had nothing to do with the wasp. She was like him in many ways when he felt her soul through her sharktooth blade. They were both protectors. Both willing to sacrifice themselves for their comrades. Both pure of heart but tainted with a fowl corruption.

He couldn't let her die. No way. He reached deeper into his energy well, drew a sizable river to feed her and another stream to boost his speed, the desert blurring to pure grey before Las Noches. Dry wind buffeted around a shield of spiritual pressure that Ichigo conjured without thought.

Tier groaned, the burst of speed jolting her frame. Blood leaked into the wind.

Ichigo fed her more of his spirit energy, more than what he could afford. "Tier, hang on," he said, a hand on her cheek, "I'm sorry. I didn't meant to—"

Her brilliant teal eyes rolled to him. Splatters of blood splashed onto Ichigo's face as she attempted to speak. He tasted iron and salt, resisting to gag or spit with all willpower.

Why did she have to be a beautiful, scantily dressed Arrancar? It made this all the more worse for a reason he couldn't quite grasp. Maybe it was his shallow lust. Or maybe Tier reminded him so much of his girlfriends whom he'd almost failed to protect. Tier's wound looked the same as Yoruichi's—except this time Ichigo couldn't rely on Tensa's Hogyoku powers.

Ichigo wiped his mouth on his sleeve and blinked back the moisture in his eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wanted answers. My girlfriends were hurt. I just wanted answers dammit!"

Her eyes narrowed, staring him down, pinning him against the waves of moonlight. Something about those exotic eyes tore down all of Ichigo's walls and left him bare for her to read. He swallowed and met her gaze for the longest seconds, not daring to look away while feeding her a copious river of his spirit energy. This was his fault as much as it was hers. Las Noches began to near by the time her glare faded.

"I'm sorry," Ichigo said again and shook his head. "I'm still getting used to my new strength. I could make it right in an instant if I had my other blade with me but I don't."

"Your—" Tier choked, spraying a small blood arc. "Powers? High— Higher plane?"

Ichigo nodded. "I'm on a level which you can't sense. Just like that wasp I fought back in Soul Society." He bristled, Yoruichi's wound flashing in his mind. "You can't feel it but I'm feeding you my energy to keep you alive. I don't know any healing Kido but your soul is reacting well to my spirit energy."

"Whe—" She moaned in pain, the muscles in her abdomen tightening. Hundreds of sweat beads gathered around her open wound that'd begun to coagulate at the edges. Dark veins branched from the cut. Her condition was improving ever so slightly. She smelt of sea salt and coconut oils, a likely natural musk.

"Don't talk," Ichigo said, "We're almost there."

Tier nodded, wincing as Ichigo picked up the speed once more. Her slender body nestled against his well. Too well.

The cracked dome of Las Noches now filled over three quarters of the night sky beneath the moon, grey as the passing desert. Ichigo grimaced. Memories of his first expedition to this Hollow world resurfaced, a thousand images passing through his eyes. Orihime's capture. Chad and Uryu. Renji and Rukia. Ulquiorra. Grimmjow. His inner Holl— His true Zapakuto spirit that'd both saved and almost killed him as his friends. He sighed, burying the memories before touching down at an open entrance, a hundred feet above the sand.

Tier pulled at his sleeve. "Don't hurt them," she breathed.

"I promised. I won't." Though Ichigo never met her Fraccion and followers, he assumed them to be at least somewhat humane like Tier. There'd be definite problems if they were all Grimmjow-esque. But not Nel. She was just like Tier, except more kind and innocent in ways.

And she could heal Tier!

A weight of worry lifted off Ichigo's shoulders. "Nel can heal you." He offered Tier a small smile.

"Obv— Obviously." Her tone was steady.

She was healing—fast. She'd definitely live. Warm relief washed through him. "Yeah." He flash stepped into the hallway and kept up a drip feed of spirit energy for her.

Breathing in the familiar dusty scent, he considered sealing his Shikai. It'd make him much less dangerous and the reduce the chance of accidents… but the collapse of his spiritual pressure could injure Tier again. Her own spiritual pressure wavered at that less of a Lieutenants—peculiar considering that her Resurreccion hadn't faded. Her severed sharktooth blade hung limp in her grip.

"Tier," he said softly and stopped in a lit corridor. The white light coils flickered.

Her eyes snapped to him, more alert than before.

Ichigo hesitated, those teal orbs casting a hypnotic effect. "If I seal my Shikai it will be safer for your followers. If I lose my concentration I could hurt someone just by touching them but…" he trailed off. Would Tier put herself through more pain for her followers? For her friends? Did she even consider them as friends and not subordinates like Aizen? For some reason, Ichigo couldn't imagine Tier treating her Fraccion like that.

"Yes?" she said.

The gaping wound across her belly was still bleeding lightly, stemmed by Ichigo's efforts. He couldn't leave her side else she die from bloodloss. Like a human. But perhaps he could risk sealing—if he first bathed her in his spirit energy. It'd only take a few seconds at most. "The collapse of my spiritual pressure will be intense. Prepare yourself." He set her down against the wall, then backed away as far as possible.

Her eyes ballooned.

Three heartbeats passed and she didn't signal resistance.

So be it.

Ichigo calmed his breathing and encased her with his spirit energy, focusing on her wound. A second later, the snowflake seal formed in his mind, already taking hold of his power. "Now," he said concentrating on on his Zanpakuto and forcing the entirety of his power into the seal.

The lights shattered and Tier screamed. Her blonde locks shook wildly as she tensed. He heard a single bone crack in her luscious body, impaling Ichigo's neck with another guilty barb. He'd make this right one way or another. His black and red spirit energy swirled as the longest three seconds passed.

"There," he said and looked over his body and clothing—back to a regular Shihakusho and captains' coat. A single katana sat in his grip. He sheathed it and walked to Tier. "Are you okay?"

"Terrific." Tough and stubborn—that's what she was. Just like Ichigo. Her contralto voice was strained but much stronger than before despite the additional injury. Ichigo's spirit energy acted as a weak healing Kido here. A bizarre development. He'd need to ask Yamamoto about this. Or Unohana.

"Alright, let's go." He scooped her up, careful to not disturb her frame too much. "Where's Nel and—"

She closed her eyes and a wave of her spiritual pressure passed through him. A Pesquisa, weak but sturdy enough that it'll last for the length of Las Noches. Ichigo couldn't mimic her without activating his Hollowfication. And in his sealed state, his spiritual sense was far inferior within these Sekkiseki lined walls.

"That way," Tier said, nudging her head forward. "They're coming. They're close. Wait in the room to the right. Let me speak."

"Right." He strode down the corridor and turned when she motioned, leading him to a door marked with a four. Four? "Was this Ulquiorra's room?" His ears tingled, sparks of anger dancing on his face.

"Yes."

"Fine."

Ichigo swallowed and pushed on the silver frame, preparing for the worst. Preparing for some kind of torture chamber that Orihime might've been kept in.

What greeted him was surprising beyond anything he'd seen since merging with the Hogyoku.

No spikes. No demonic statues. No blood stains. A lavish room laid before Ichigo, quite bland and grey, but comfortable if he had to live here. A sofa of black leather sat next to a bookshelf. Old, wrinkly writings filled every shelf to the brim, two books fallen onto the stone floor.

Ichigo's gaze drifted to the left, to a wall-sized window. The ever-crescent moon shone through the direct centre, onto the sofa. This couldn't be Ulquiorra's room.

"Wow," he quipped. "This was Ulquiorra's room?"

"Yes. He liked to read."

"That's not the Uquiorra I knew." Ichigo shrugged. What that bastard was really like didn't matter anyway. He was dead.

"It's natural. You were enemies. Put me down." Tier's warm breath tickled his neck. Her coconut scent was delicious—not a thought he wanted to have. His girlfriends would neck him if they knew. Especially Soifon. She was feisty.

Ichigo mumbled and looked her up and down, ignoring her wound as best as he could.

Truly, she was a goddess.

But he couldn't have her. He already had three girlfriends… He couldn't take another. And how could he be so attracted to an Arrancar? To an Espada who'd fought for Aizen—like Ulquiorra. They'd been enemies to the death only months prior… But she was so beautiful, so human-like and similar to himself.

He shook his head, put the thought to the side, and laid Tier onto the couch before an urge to grope her took hold. Her breasts were full and far too inviting.

She exhaled and let her oversized blade clunk to the floor. Strangely, her release still wouldn't fade, still seemingly stable despite her massive blood and spirit energy loss. Grimmjow had reverted to his base form moments after his defeat—and his injuries hadn't been as fatal.

It had to be one of her special abilities. Arrancars were like that sometimes. Ulquiorra could regenerate. The Arrancar Rukia fought could take another Hollow's powers. The one Kyoraku fought apparently was split into two souls. Tier must be also unique.

Ichigo asked, "Why hasn't your Resurreccion—"

Light footsteps and a buzz sounded from the doorway.

Annoyed, Ichigo turned and reached out with his meagre sense, finding three arrivals—and a much weaker fourth. That had to be Nel, still a child.

"They're here," Tier said, "step aside." That ring of authority had returned to her musical voice.

Ichigo moved to the window without question, then closed his eyes and took a breath. Here he was, drenched in the blood of a beautiful Arrancar whom he had dealt the injury to and caring for as well. Meanwhile, his girlfriends, mostly Rukia, was worried for him in Soul Society. How the hell did his life become so complicated?

A/N Happy new year! A short chapter for now… might add to it once I do another round of editing… Been busy. Next chap will be longer I promise. So I think Tier will be the final addition to the Harem. I think four a good number and even pushing it.