Bleach:Zangetsu

"Damn it..." Rukia muttered through gritted teeth as she clutched her right arm. Blood poured freely from her upper shoulder, staining her uniform, but the pain in her chest was even worse. Her heart raced, each beat a reminder that she was running out of time. Renji and Chad were both down, badly injured, and their efforts had been in vain against this monster.

What do I do?

She searched for a way to turn things around. Her mind raced, but nothing felt like it would work. The enemy before her was too strong to break.

A shadow fell over her. A massive hand swiped toward her, the sheer force of it knocking the air from her lungs. Rukia barely managed to flashstep away, her legs trembling as she tried to regain her balance. The wind pressure was enough to throw her off, but she pushed herself higher, narrowly escaping the attack.

"GOT YOU."

Before Rukia could even process what was happening, a massive hand—almost too large to comprehend—struck her from the side. The force of the blow was so overwhelming that it sent her careening through the air, her body unable to even react in time.

No... this can't be how it ends... The thought flickered through Rukia's mind as pain exploded through her body. Blood poured from her throat, as her vision blurred as she spun endlessly, she traveled faster than a bullet. She couldn't catch herself due to the intense wind pressure. There was nothing to hold on to. all her thoughts were droned by deafening rush of wind.

Her limbs were numb, her mind raced but failed to find any solution. So, this is it... I couldn't... The memories rushed back in a blur oddly most of them were of him. That spikey haired strawberry. That promise she made to him—the promise to be there when he needed her. To be his strength when he felt weak.

But now, with the ground fast approaching and nothing to stop it, Rukia realized that she wouldn't be able to keep that promise. Sorry, Ichigo. I couldn't keep my promise to you.

For a fleeting moment, her mind flashed back to a day so vivid, it felt like it was happening again. June 17. The day Ichigo's mother had died. She could hear her own voice telling him, "I'll be here when you're ready to talk. Don't shut me out." she said with a soft smile.

And Ichigo's response: "It's a promise, then." he said with a determined look as he rushed to face Grand fisher.

But now, Thats a promise she no longer be able to keep.

"Sorry." She said, closing her eyes as she brazed for the inevitable.

The harsh thud of her body slamming into the ground ripped her from her thoughts. Dust exploded in every direction, obscuring the battlefield as the world went black around her. But even through the haze, she could hear him.

Yami's cruel sneer was unmistakable as his muscles bulged the number 0 burning brightly on his right arm. "GOOD RIDDENCE, he muttered, his words dripping with a scoff. The sound of his laughter rumbled in the distance as he stood, watching her crash into the ground." GEASS I WLL CALL HER TOMATTO PASTE FRON NOW ON..." he smirked before shrugging.

"MAN, THAT WASN'T AS SATISFYING AS I THOUGHT " he said nonchalantly, his eyes glancing toward the ceiling of Los Noches. The disinterest in his voice made it clear that her fall was little more than a diversion for him. "I WAS PLANING TO HELP ULQUIORRA AFTER I HAD MY FUN WITH THESE LOSERS BUT THEN HE WENT AND DIED OF ME, WHAT A SORRY EXCUSE FOR AN ESPADA." 

He spat carelessly on the floor, then turned away looking toward the broken ceiling, as though it was just another boring task to get through. "GEUSS IT'S TIME TO KILL THAT KUROSAKI BRAT THEN."

But just as Yami began to turn, something shifted in the air. Rukia's eyes fluttered open as the weight of an enormous spiritual pressure filled the space, like a sudden storm breaking overhead. It was so overwhelming, so thick with intent, that it was suffocating.

The ground trembled beneath her, and Yami froze in his tracks. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the dust cloud that still lingered. His expression shifted from boredom to something more akin to surprise.

"HUH?" Yami muttered, his eyes widening slightly as he turned toward the disturbance. The air around them seemed to shift with the sheer force of the spiritual energy, pressing against everything in its wake.

This spiritual pressure... Yami thought, his gaze narrowing. It's massive... almost as heavy as Starrk's. Hollow-like... but it's different...

Rukia's breath caught in her throat. She could feel it too, though she couldn't explain why. There was something about this presence that made her skin crawl in a way she couldn't name. A hollow's power, yes—but there was more to it. It felt familiar, in a strange, unsettling way.

Who... who is this?

Rukia's heart pounded in her chest as she lifted her gaze toward the figure standing amidst the swirling dust. She could hardly believe what she saw.

There he was.

Ichigo. The very man who had saved countless times.

His once-short orange hair had grown long, flowing with the wind in silky strands that shimmered like flames. His back was turned toward her, but she would recognize him anywhere. The sheer presence he exuded was unmistakable.

"Ichigo?" Rukia whispered, Her heart caught in her throat as the words escaped her, a mixture of disbelief and longing.

But the figure before her said nothing, his eyes fixed on the massive hollow that loomed like a dark, towering shadow. The hollow in front of him, Yami, let out a low growl, but there was something different about the way he regarded this new presence. It wasn't fear—at least not yet—but something akin to confusion. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?"

Zangetsu's cold gaze never wavered, his focus sharp and unwavering as he stared at Yami. A subtle expression twisted at the corner of his lips, though it was more of a silent Frown than a smile.

And then, his spiritual pressure began to rise. Slowly, but with terrifying certainty.

Crimson energy surged around him like an inferno, its raw intensity making the very air tremble. The ground shook beneath him, and with a sickening crack, rocks lifted from the earth, floating upward as though gripped by an invisible force. The environment seemed to bend and warp under the weight of Zangetsu's spiritual presence.

'Unacceptable.'

The thought echoed within Zangetsu's mind, his cold, hollow heart burning with fury. If he had been even a moment too late, the woman—Ichigo's friend, the King's closest—would have perished.

Yami, who had been preoccupied with his own thoughts, looked back toward the source of the spiritual pressure with narrowed eyes. Confusion clouded his features, but that confusion soon shifted to suspicion as his mind raced.

This... this isn't right. Lord Azian didn't mention any new Vasto Lordes... Where did this one come from?

A realization hit Yami with sudden force. His eyes flickered between the strange figure and the wreckage, a chill creeping up his spine. Wait a minute.

Before he could make sense of what was happening, Zangetsu's voice cut through the tension like a razor.

"Getsuga," Zangetsu's voice was low, steady, and icy, a force of nature in its own right.

The words rang out like an omen. Without hesitation, Zangetsu swung his sword, the blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. A black and crimson crescent of energy erupted from the blade, cutting through the air like a streak of lightning. It flew toward Yami with blistering speed, carrying with it the weight of a thousand unsaid words.

"Tenshō," Zangetsu uttered, his voice a quiet, controlled fury.

The attack rocketed toward the towering hollow with unrelenting force. The sheer power of the blast Burned the air itself, leaving behind a trail of destruction. 

For the first time in Yami's life, pain crossed his mind.

The blackened slash, sharp and jagged, slammed into his face. The impact sent him stumbling back a few steps, a roar of pain leaving his mouth as his hand instinctively shot up to clutch at his face. Blood poured from the deep gash that ran from his nose to his lower lip, staining his teeth with a dark red. His legs trembled, but his fury refused to let him falter for long.

"Y-Y-YOU...." Yami growled, his voice low and ragged with barely contained anger. Every muscle in his body burned with rage, but it was controlled—just barely. His eyes narrowed with a vicious intensity, and he wiped at the blood running down his face, not caring how it smeared.

Zangetsu, the figure standing at the center of the storm, said nothing. His cold, piercing yellow eyes stared at Yami, unblinking, before briefly flicking to Rukia.

"Ichigo, you came but where are the others?" she muttered weakly as she tried to stand "I thought you went out to save Orihime? "Zangetsu didn't turn to her. He didn't even glance her way again. His focus was entirely on the enemy ahead. There was no time for Answers.

The question hung in the air, unanswered, as the spiritual pressure continued to press in from all sides. Rukia's heart raced, but for reasons she didn't fully understand. She wasn't sure if it was hope or fear, all she could do was lie there, battered and broken, as the world around her seemed to hold its breath. "Are you okay?" she asked sincerely. 

Zangetsu looked over his shoulder, his cold eyes bored into her hers. which made her flinch. His yellow gaze lingered on her, His gaze, once cold, softened ever so slightly when it landed on Rukia. A piece of him—still lived on in her, and he knew she would survive this, no matter what.

Rukia was strong, as strong as any of them. And yet... he couldn't shake the memory of a different time, a different face—a fleeting thought of Sode no Shirayuki, delicate was the memory. so distant and yet so clear in his mind. Zangetsu smiled slightly. 'Wonder how she's doing.'

"YOU BASTARD!!!!! ICHIGO KUROSAKI!!!!" Yami's roar shattered the air, the raw power in his voice reverberating through the very core of Los Noches. The ground seemed to tremble beneath the force of his fury as he charged up his Grand Ray Cero. The crimson beam began to glow with an unsettling purple hue, the energy radiating from his mouth so intense, it felt like the entire space would collapse under its weight. The power coiling within him was like the precursor to an explosion, the very atmosphere crackling with impending destruction.

Rukia's breath caught in her throat as she struggled to push herself up. The raw, untamed energy pouring from Yami was suffocating, a force so overwhelming it made her feel small and insignificant.

"Stay put."

She barely had time to process the words before Zangetsu's presence loomed over her Mechanically. He spoke with an eerie calm, his voice steady despite the situation. His golden gaze flickered briefly to her, but there was little emotion in it—just cold resolve.

"I don't have much time left to Deal this guy off before I head back to the world of the living…" Zangetsu said, his tone almost detached, as if the battle, the danger, was nothing but a waste of time.

Rukia didn't respond immediately, her eyes tracking his movements as he turned away. His words echoed in her mind, but they barely registered. All she could do was watch as he walked toward Yami, his thin black blade scraping against ground behind him, creating sparks.He was so calm, almost too calm.

She wanted to stop him, to say something, but the words wouldn't come.

Zangetsu didn't look back. His form blurred as he disappeared in a flash of speed, a streak of black and crimson vanishing into the purple blast.

Rukia's hands trembled at her sides, and she sank back down onto the ground, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Her gaze fell to the floor as the weight of it all settled on her chest. Ichigo...

The name lingered in her mind, pulling her Emotions in different directions. She could feel the anxiety gnawing at her insides, a gnawing, tightening feeling in her chest that wouldn't let go. She stared down at her clenched fist, watching as her knuckles whitened from the pressure.

What had happened to him? You don't have the look of someone victorious, she thought, You don't even have the look of someone ready to fight again...

Her heart sank deeper into her stomach. What happened, Ichigo...?

The question was a whispered plea, though she knew, deep down, that she might never get an answer. 

(Author notes: Any thoughts?) :)