Chapter 1 - Her Last Assignment

Kiptcha took a deep bow to Aizen and she rose slowly before turning to go. Aizen looked smug with the grin on his face. He rested his head on one hand with his elbow propped on the arm of his throne. Gin stood behind him, smile as wide as ever.

“Good luck, Kiptcha,” Aizen’s icy voice echoed after her and she turned, surprised at the comment. The rest of the Espada snickered and laughed at the remark.

Kiptcha looked at the rest of the Espada carefully and she realized that none of them would ever give her solace. She had managed to get in the Espada ranked as four. Since Halibel’s death; however, she had once again been reduced to the only female in the Espada. She wore a uniform that resembled Halibel’s, but she had modified it to her own taste. It had a high collar that came up to hide her mouth and it stopped just under her breasts, leaving her midriff bare. It had long bell sleeves as well to hide her arms. A floor length white skirt, long blonde hair that nearly swept the ground, and the number four on the right side of her midriff, under her ribs, finished up her clothing. Her hollow hole was not visible, but it had been moved to her upper chest, just below her collarbone. Her sword hung from her right shoulder diagonally across her back, reaching to about her left knee. The blade was thin and excruciatingly sharp. No matter the pressure, it refused to break. What completed her look was the remnants of her mask that curled up from her left eye and grew thicker until it was an ear, resembling that of a cat, over her own left ear.

She finally turned and left, hearing the rest of the Espada dismissed behind her. She walked at her normal speed, which was faster than the average walking speed for most. It was well known that those in the Espada were cruel and easily provoked into fighting with each other, so she knew after being granted such an assignment as she had now, they would kill at their first chance. She continued to walk until she came to a window. She stepped up to it and she looked out, aware of the approaching Espada.

“Hey Kipt. Got anything to say to us?” a cold voice said behind her. It belonged to Grimmjow, the 5th in the Espada.

Kiptcha did not respond, and she stayed still trying to seem fearless of the one who stood behind her. Grimmjow was a seat below her, and he wanted more than anything to take her seat away from her. She fingered her black sash, but she didn’t make any other move.

“I’m talking to you, dog,” the angered Grimmjow hissed, leaping forward and putting Kiptcha into a headlock. She was tall, but Grimmjow had the advantage of being that much taller than her. He tilted her back and leaned forward a bit to whisper, “Just because you got an assignment doesn’t mean you can get stuck up, Kipt.”

Kiptcha let her body relax, knowing there was no way that she could answer and keep the fear out of her voice. She spoke anyway, breaking her silence. “Tell me nothing ever counts, lashing out or breaking down. Still somebody loses 'cause there's no way to turn around, is there?”

“Grimmjow, let her go. I’m surprised she hasn’t already seriously injured you,” Szayel commented. He was the 8th Espada, and he couldn’t beat either one of the two.

Noitora, Stark, Ulquiorra, and Yammy had gathered as well. The first three had no interest in letting Grimmjow kill Kiptcha, while the lower ranks were in favor.

Grimmjow let her go however, and Kiptcha turned to face him, no resent in her face. It was a rare expression for her not to have a glare or something akin to that. A faint smile played on her lips, making her features softer. She looked like a beautiful woman, instead of the ice maiden she normally was. It surprised the arrancar who were standing around watching the scene. Even Grimmjow looked taken aback.

Kiptcha let it play wider and she unzipped the collar down until the point that her hollow hole showed. She looked fine, despite what she thought, which she always was fully protective of her inner feelings and moods. She had never had more than two, or three in rare occasions, of the Espada really pay attention to her. Today she had all nine plus Aizen and Gin watching her. And now she had five. This was certainly a new feeling for her.

“I’ll be leaving then,” Kiptcha said softly, her normal un-talkative nature not gone. She walked past Grimmjow, brushing her shoulder against him. It was a soft-spoken warning that she used. It was also a tempting dare to follow her and find out what kind of power she held that earned her the rank she had.

Grimmjow took her bait and grabbed her shoulder after she had passed.

“Grimmjow!” Ulquiorra commanded and Grimmjow released her.

Kiptcha turned her head slightly to look at Grimmjow and laughed. She startled herself at it, and the smile faded from her lips. She turned back to face forward and she bowed slightly to the three higher ranked Espada, taking her eyes off of them only momentarily. Stark, the 2nd Espada, was the only one who returned it.



Kiptcha opened the door of her new apartment, and she closed the door behind her. She walked to the bed and collapsed. She had found a gigai before anyone had been attracted to her reiatsu, and now she was suppressing it as best she could. To a shinigami she would seem like a talented human, not an arrancar at first pass. She had thrown the school uniform on the bed beside her and she got up and put it away in the closet along with some other cloths. Two pairs of jeans and a few T-shirts were folded and placed on the shelf above, three dresses and the school uniform hung neatly. A pair of three-inch heels also had been thrown in, as it was the part of the school uniform, if the girls didn’t want tennis shoes.

She wore a light blue dress with a butterfly pattern on it. They were like illusions, really, since they were lighter shades of blue. The dress had a low neck line and she had panicked at first. It was so much unlike the arrancar uniform that she usually wore.

The day had been fine so far, except for the nagging feeling that someone had been following her all day from a distance. A knock on her door startled her and she dashed over to the door and opened it. Grimmjow stood there in a gigai. This time she couldn’t keep the look of total confusion and fear off her face.

“Oy,” Grimmjow said, enjoying the look of fear in her eyes. He pushed the door wider and let himself in.

Kiptcha didn’t bother to close the door behind him and she turned to look at him. “Why are you here?!” she demanded, trying to look fierce in a blue dress with a butterfly pattern on it. It didn’t really work.

“That’s a nice look for you, why don’t you keep it?” Grimmjow commented, turning from her small window. “Of course I don’t think that you could really be taken seriously then . . .”

Kiptcha turned red and she turned to face the door. She felt strange, a feeling that she had never had under Aizen’s watchful eyes. “Why are you here, Grimmjow? This is my mission.”

“I’m here to make sure you do what you’re supposed to. I’ve appointed myself.”

“I’ll do it! I don’t need a guardian. Not like you! You’ll only get in the way. You’ll try to kill him won’t you, Grimmjow? I can’t allow that.”

“Excuse me, I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” a voice said, and there was a tap on the open door. “I’m Isredel, Isredel Shimazaki. I heard that you’re the new student. Pleasure to meet you.”

Kiptcha looked up at him, startled. “Ah. Same here. I’m Kiptcha Munae,” she said in the normal polite voice she reserved for Aizen alone. He sounded so much like Aizen . . .

“And you?” Isredel questioned Grimmjow. “I heard you’re new too.”

Grimmjow looked at the newcomer and he frowned, realizing what he was in an instant. This was the shinigami that was Kiptcha’s target. He had no interest in doing anything polite, including introducing himself unless they were in a battle.

Kiptcha looked at Grimmjow, who was about to snap. She was worried, but she couldn’t do anything. Nothing would move. Her body was stiff. Then, out of the blue, she realized it. She had put all of her reiatsu out of the light to seem normal, yet both of these two were letting out an enormous amount. They were competing, but Kiptcha daren’t do the same. She stood above Grimmjow usually. That was enough. Kiptcha got the same feeling when standing in front of Aizen. This breathlessness and sweat beading up on her forehead.

Dust started to twirl around Isredel’s legs, like a miniature tornado. His eyes were blank and he had strayed far from the kind man he had started out as. “You want to fight this out?” he laughed casually, refusing to notice Kiptcha’s stricken face.



Kiptcha stood in Hueco Mundo with a humiliated face. She had left her gigai in the apartment, laying on the bed, while Grimmjow and Isredel had exited and let their gigais just lay on the roof of the apartment building. Aizen looked down at her with an unhappy look.

“Why are you back here so fast, Kiptcha? The next time you were to come in front of me, you were to have the target: Isredel Shimazaki. What happened?”

Kiptcha still had her collar unzipped and it showed the rest of the mask that went down to her jaw, and it showed her mouth. Her emotions were clear: She no way turn. Some of the Espada snickered in the background, as she always had it fully zipped up. “Grimmjow followed me. He’s engaged in a quarrel with the target and I am in no place to break it up and destroy my cover,” Kiptcha reported. With a bit of difficulty she said the next two words. “Requesting assistance.”



Ulquiorra stood with Kiptcha looking down at the fight. No words were exchanged between the two frowning arrancar, but they understood what the other was thinking. They were very much alike after all, and they rarely changed their expressions. Kiptcha was back in her gigai already, and she had already warned silently about making a comment about it.

“Those two might just kill each other, but it would seem that Grimmjow is playing with him — why?” Ulquiorra commented quietly.

“Shinigami captains and vice-captains have a restriction,” Kiptcha said. Her dress was blown in front of her with the wind, and she felt self-conscious around Ulquiorra as she wasn’t wearing her normal uniform. He was her superior, and she already felt bad about causing something like this. “Sorry for causing you trouble —”

“Relax. You can’t do anything if you’re to do as planned,” he said and Kiptcha was shocked as he left.

She raced down to the ground and up to the roof of the other building via stairs. She emerged panting to find Isredel in front of her, sword drawn. Ulquiorra held Grimmjow by the collar. Grimmjow had not drawn his sword though.

“Do you intend to screw up everything, Grimmjow?” Ulquiorra asked icily.

Kiptcha was suffocated by the sheer amount of reiatsu, and she felt sweat dripping down her face “S-stop. Stop!” Kiptcha yelled, stuttering a bit. Her act was perfect. She slumped to her knees as planned and she tried to look convincing. The only one who didn’t buy it was Grimmjow.

“Damn, Kiptcha. Why don’t you just get up and help me? I could use it,” he said, and he pulled away from Ulquiorra and he looked down at her. “This stupid shinigami isn’t what’s the problem, he’s a fly. Just get Ulquiorra out of here. He doesn’t need to be here!”

“Neither do you, Grimmjow,” Kiptcha spat, standing unsteadily. She reminded herself that only half of it need be an act. “you were never invited, were you?”

There was a static sound and Kiptcha felt Grimmjow behind her. Her eyes went wide and she spun, just in time to catch a kick than propelled her back. As she flew through the air everything slowed down. Isredel looked shocked that his opponent had attacked a seemingly human girl. Ulquiorra had let the frown slip and he looked a bit shocked and furious at the same time. Kiptcha flight was punctuated with her hitting a brick wall. She slumped down and fell to her knees. She couldn’t stand anymore, and she fell to her hands. Blood trickled out of her mouth, and she winced out of pain. She spat on the ground, just more blood pooling on the concrete.

“I’ve never been able to do that to her! This feels nice,” Grimmjow commented, bouncing lightly on his feet. “Now —” he said softly, and there was another burst of static. He appeared before Kiptcha, but he stood proud over her. Kiptcha seemed broken, but she raised her face and she slowly started to rise. She would not bow to the 5th Espada, known as Grimmjow Jaggerjack.

“You bastard. Can’t you let me carry out my last mission and then die in peace?” she spat, now standing. She leaned heavily on the cracked wall behind her, but she stood none the less.

Grimmjow smirked evilly and his sword had been drawn and was flashing towards her abdomen before she could react in her gigai. She screamed right before his blade hit and she caught the flashing metal in her left hand with the tip barely off her stomach. Blood ran down her arm and she felt the blade sliding through her grip. Then her hand wouldn’t obey her, pain making it loosen and pull away.

The blade went through her stomach and pinned her to the wall. Blood started to soak the blue dress she wore. Kiptcha was fading, but she dimly felt Grimmjow touch the side of her face. She pulled away. Words didn’t make sense in her mind. She saw both Ulquiorra and Isredel moving towards her, but Ulquiorra stopped. His frown was deeper than ever. Kiptcha felt things becoming clearer again and she looked up at Grimmjow. She grabbed the sword and pulled it out, stepping forward and clutching the blade. It felt heavy compared with her own sword.

The sword was out to her right, and the blade was angled towards her target. With her left hand, she looked at her wound. The sword had impaled her tattooed number, 4. “You have nice aim, Grimmjow, for stabbing a certain spot, but it’s not yours quite yet. This is where you belong. I’m where I belong,” Kiptcha said softly. She tensed her right arm and she spun the sword on her palm, stopping it so the blade was angled up her arm. With the rest of her strength she brought the blade up in front of her and then down into the ground. It stood vertical in front of her, between her and Grimmjow. She then turned and walked to the edge of the building, only stumbling once.

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