Chapter 10 - Finale

Kiptcha’s features morphed, Her mask spread to the other side and of her face and covered it completely. Her eyes were slitted and malevolent. Iten. The Destroyer. Demise.

Isredel watched the transition with distaste, watching the perfectly respectable girl turn into a monster with no emotions. Just the incentive to kill him. He readied himself for her attack, but she didn’t even seem to move. Kiptcha seemed to be contemplating what she was going to do, how best to attack. Her head had elongated a bit, and a tail and a set of wings had sprouted.

He didn’t see her movements, but he saw her disappear. Claws ripped at his back and wings, and Isredel spun, slashing out with his sword. Laughter sounded close to his ear, and he turned again, searching for any hint of her.

The thought of donning his mask again crossed his mind, but he reminded himself of where he was. “I am the 5th squad captain. I am a shinigami. This is Seiretei, my home. All arrancar are enemies. They are to be killed to protect my home.”

Kiptcha laughed, and she appeared in front of him. “You are not just a shinigami. You’re like us, aren’t you? But all arrancar are certainly not your enemies. They might be the enemies of the foolish shinigami, but you’ve attained higher powers.” Kiptcha paused, stepping closer.

“You’re mistaken, arrancar. The shinigami are by no means foolish,” Isredel countered.

“You’re the 5th captain, successor to Aizen-sama. You are a combination and hollow and shinigami. This is in fact Seiretei, a place you can stay until they find out who you really are, but by no means can this be a permanent home for you. All shinigami and arrancar may be your enemies, yet you don’t know until you’ve talked with one side—allied with none. All beings that could expose you are to be killed in order for you to be able to stay here.”

Isredel looked at Kiptcha in horror. After one glance at his mask, she had known. “I’m a vizard.” Isredel said it with a hiss, and he raised his zampaku-to with a flash and a blot of lightning hit Kiptcha full force in the chest. She skidded back some, but she didn’t sustain much damage.

“I’ve got better things to do, Isredel.” A cero formed from her claws, and she was just about to fire it.

Grimmjow held Kiptcha and Ulquiorra stood in front of Isredel, effectively stopping the fight. Kiptcha noted that other subordinates of hers were taking back the wounded.

“This was not ordered by Aizen-sama, Kiptcha,” Ulquiorra said coldly, facing her. Grimmjow tightened his grip, as Kiptcha’s figure thinned and returned to a normal state. The spike tail and wings disappeared as well.

Kiptcha bowed her head as she felt the sudden weight of her zampaku-to on her back. With crisp, polite words, she addressed Ulquiorra. “ I respect your decision to stop our battle, and I will return to Las Noches to fully atone, but I question your decision to restrain me.”

Grimmjow snickered, and he brought her arms behind her, into a double hammer-lock. Kiptcha didn’t fight, but she noticed with grim observation that he was able to hold both of her arms in place with one hand.

“Am I not a respectable member of the Espada?” Kiptcha spat, tightening her arms. The muscles rippled with exertion, as she tried to fight her way out of the hold.

Isredel finally snapped, upset at the interruption. “My friend, Kiptcha,” He spoke her name, though her had sworn that he would sever all ties with her. “has been respectable here, no matter the consequences. She only questions half of what you’re doing, but I’m not so easy on you method.” He used his sword to point, waving around the sharp blade.

The arrancar looked at him with a bit of surprise. Ulquiorra reached another decision. “Grimmjow, you are free to finish the job. He is just,” Ulquiorra paused, “trash.”

Kiptcha was released from the vice-like grip, and she sprang forward faster than Grimmjow. She would have reached Isredel first too, had it not been Ulquiorra stopping her as she passed.

“Why are you trying to save him, Kiptcha?” Ulquiorra asked, his frown almost intimidating.

Kiptcha snarled at Ulquiorra, unwise as her position was lower than his. “He’s not just trash to me, Ulquiorra, maybe I went a bit too far on my mission.”

“You certainly did,” Ulquiorra muttered, letting Kiptcha surge past.

While Kiptcha didn’t dare attack Grimmjow, she knew that it would be against no rules for her to defend. She unsheathed her katana, and easily sliced the forming cero. With a desperate leap, she put herself in front of the shinigami, now effectively fighting Grimmjow herself. No offense.

A series of blows rained on Kiptcha, and she had sheathed her sword as well. Several made contact, knocking the breath out of her.

“Leave him. He’s not yours to kill.”

Grimmjow snarled at the comment, and he flung her out of range of Isredel. “He’s mine.” With a final kick to Kiptcha’s abdomen, Grimmjow turned back to his original target.

Blood seeped through the bandage around Kiptcha abdomen, and blood trickled out of her mouth. Her eyes closed in pain, and she started to fall, racing towards the ground. She hit the ground hard and more blood went everywhere. Kiptcha’s zampaku-to hit the ground beside her, clanging a bit.

Hanako, still standing by walked over, barely hurt. Kiptcha noticed that Isredel didn’t have to protect her, as the shinigami probably could deflect it again. Isredel had just wanted to draw her away. Kiptcha groaned and tried to move, but her body felt weak. She saw Isredel pull his hollow mask on, and Kiptcha faded into the sweet darkness, away from pain.



Kiptcha wasn’t surprised when she woke up in a cell, since she had been out cold, they could not have organized an immediate audience with Aizen. She understood, and she picked herself up and walked to the chair. A small table sat in front of it, and cold food was laid out. Kiptcha sat down, and she picked at it, not really eating much. She recognized the preparation style, Ulquiorra’s fracción.

A moan behind her startled her, and Kiptcha jumped visibly. She spun the chair to stare at Isredel.

“Not now . . .” she muttered.

Isredel looked at her, bleeding in some spots, bruised in others. His condition was horrible. He had no zampaku-to, but Kiptcha felt hers on her back, pressing into her almost painfully.

The door to the cell opened to reveal Ulquiorra, and Kiptcha automatically stood. It was her summons to Aizen-sama. Ulquiorra let her pass, and he hauled Isredel out as well. Kiptcha looked back, and she dropped back a few steps to help Isredel, though Ulquiorra was already doing something like it by dragging him.

Kiptcha couldn’t walk well either, but she managed to make into the throne room, where she shrugged off Isredel’s arm, and she let him drop. She bowed low, but somehow she didn’t feel it was enough. Tosen and Gin stood nearby in the shadows.

“Would you care to explain your actions, Kiptcha?” Aizen asked.

Kiptcha rose, and she looked stricken with guilt. Her mouth was slightly parted, and she fumbled for words. “Perhaps . . . “ she paused, aware of Isredel struggling to stand beside her. “ . . . I grew a bit too attached, Aizen-sama.”

There was a soft chuckle, and Aizen leaned forward. “You did as I asked, but he was troublesome to control, wasn’t he? You fulfilled your half. I’ll complete our promise now, if you wish.”

Kiptcha took a step back, and she hesitated, looking over at Isredel. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This is goodbye now.”

Kiptcha took a step forward, and she reached down, using a fingernail to rip her skirt from the knee down. Then she tore it off, and looked at the white cloth. She then took the strip and ripped in half. She bowed again, and kneeled on the floor of the Throne room.

With deft movements, Kiptcha tied her ankles and took the other strip in her hands. She tied this one just above the knees, around her thighs. She then sat back and took her sword off her back. She placed it in front of herself, and she then ripped off her collar, ignoring the fact that she had removed quite a bit of the fabric that covered her shoulders as well.

Taking the stiff collar, he unsheathed her sword and wound the fabric around the blade so she could hold on to it.

With a final glance up at Aizen, Kiptcha aimed the blade at her abdomen and she closed her eyes, readying herself for death. A peace came over her, and she relaxed.

A ripple. Isredel lunged for the sword, tearing it from her grasp and cutting her hand. Kiptcha swore, and she opened her eyes, looking at Isredel. Pain crossed her face and a tear rolled down her cheek. Isredel stumbled and fell to his hands and knees.

Kiptcha removed a stiletto dagger from inside her black sash. Isredel saw it glint, and a drop of blood rolled down the thin blade.

“No, damn it, Kiptcha! Don’t!” Isredel managed to pant out, his injuries now reopened. He tried to stand, trying to reach her and yank the blade out of her hands. He stumbled again, and he fell, unable to reach her.

Kiptcha looked at him, and she felt the ripples trying to stir her will to live. She pushed them out of her mind. She had to do this.

Her eyes rested on Aizen. She positioned the dagger at her throat and calmed herself again. She did not blink.

The sharp dagger easily pushed through, and the long blade showed glistening red, out of the back of her neck.

Kiptcha felt pain only for a second, and it flashed across her face. It was then replaced by an expression of pure happiness. Pure peace. She no longer saw clearly. Her vision started to fade to Black, and a detached feeling of everything going limp. She didn’t hear Isredel’s scream.

Her body fell limp, flopping to the side. The white strips of her skirt held her legs together. Her eyes glassed over and a pool of dark crimson leaked out, soaking her blonde hair and staining her pure white uniform. Blood had ran down her neck and onto her lap and chest. Only the number four remained on her abdomen.



Isredel stared at the sight of Kiptcha’s limp body. It scared him. Did Aizen really have this much power over the arrancar? He got up and moved closer, placing her zampaku-to next to her quickly cooling corpse.

He touched the side of her face. It was cold and clammy. He withdrew his hand abruptly. Then he shook her shoulder. She didn’t move. She didn’t acknowledge anything. He closed her lifeless eyes, ignorant that his hands had her blood smeared all over them.

Her mask fell, and it cracked. A thin mark of blue ran under eye, once hidden my the mask. It startled Isredel, and he picked it up, running his fingers over the delicate cat-ear shape. Kiptcha was truly dead.



He had fled from the room, only pausing to find his zampaku-to. He had returned to Seiretei, but he felt dead inside. Totally dead. Days, weeks, maybe even months had passed since he returned. His gloom slowly ate at him, and he carried half of the cracked mask with him everywhere. He was consumed with grief almost at all times, and his lieutenant, Tamara, had been doing most of the things he usually did just to keep everything running.

Today was just like yesterday, and Isredel silently cursed the sun for being so bright. There was no reason for anything to be happy. He looked down at the half of the mask. What was his reason to live anymore?

He had eaten in the past months, but it had been sparse and he had only picked at his food today as well. His face was gaunt and he looked desperately tired. He hadn’t really been sleeping much either.

How long had he sat here now? Isredel started to wonder, but it didn’t really matter. Tamara entered, and Isredel didn’t even bother to look up.

“Captain? We have a new member being added to out squad. She will occupy 4th seat. She’s fresh from the Academy—”

“That’s fine Tamara. Just leave me, please,” Isredel replied, his voice tired. He was startled at the sound though, as he hadn’t spoken for the last few days.

“She wanted to see you,” Tamara explained.

“She’s seen me. Now leave.”

He heard the whisper, but he didn’t care. Tamara had been trying to explain it to most anyone who had come to see him these days. Isredel looked down at his hand, realizing a pain in his palm. It was his left palm. A deep cut had suddenly opened.

‘I’m sorry, but Isredel-sama hasn’t been feeling well . . . .’

The new recruit stepped forward, and she hammered a fist down on his desk, causing the mask-ear to drop onto the surface.

“Hey. Pleased to meet you, Res.”

Isredel muttered something about it not being funny to poke fun and he glanced up. The girl was lean with pale white skin. Her hair was tied back, but it still hung down past her waist. It was a blonde color with a red coloration towards the tips. Her zampaku-to was long, and she had slung it on her back. Her eyes were crimson, and there was a thin blue line that ran under her left eye.

“You forgot something, ya know?” she said dryly, placing the other half of a broken hollow mask on the desk under the ear that Isredel had brought back from Las Noches. It fit perfectly.

Isredel looked at the mask, and his gaze driftd over the blue line, and resting on her limp left hand, with was slowly dripping blood. A cut on her palm.

“Kiptcha?” Isredel asked, disbelieving. He stood up, and walked to the other side of the desk.

“Yo.” Kiptcha smiled broadly. “Missed me much?”

You are not authorized to comment here. Your must be registered and logged in to comment