Chapter 6 - Consequences

Isredel frowned at Kiptcha’s lack of memory. She had just tried to attack him. She had fallen asleep . . . and she had been sleep walking. Scary. Seriously scary. Attacking another in one’s sleep could be deadly . . .

“You were asleep for several hours. Look. The sun’s already set,” Isredel pointed out.

Kiptcha blinked and she realized that that meant over five hours. She saw Isredel’s zampaku-to was unsheathed. She was startled, and she instantly reached for her own, again.

Isredel rolled his eyes, but when she had drawn her sword, it became quite serious. “Look, I’m not going to attack you, so why don’t we just go back . . . .”

Kiptcha laughed. “The gauntlet’s been thrown down, Res. Your challenge is accepted.”

“It was your challenge first of all,” Isredel muttered. He didn’t back down though. Kiptcha could easily overpower him if he wasn’t careful, her speed almost too fast for him to follow.

Kiptcha snickered. “Aren’t you going to release your zampaku-to?”

Isredel seemed angered by the notion, and he sprang at Kiptcha, anger taking away any reasoning. His katana made a flashing arc as it was swung towards Kiptcha.

Kiptcha blocked the attack with her hand and she sighed. “I thought I told you to release your zampaku-to. You’re not too great at listening, are you?”

Isredel stepped back. Fury showed plain on his face. “Senkou! Raikou Kami!”

“Ah. Now we get to business,” Kiptcha whispered. She laughed and sheathed her sword.

Isredel blinked. He didn’t understand what was going on at all. “Wha-?”

“It was a joke that. Attacking people just because they have their zampaku-to out isn’t my style,” Kiptcha said, walking towards Isredel. “Unless they were serious about killing me.”

Isredel put away his sword, and he watched Kiptcha jump over the edge of the building and look back up. He jumped after her and they both started back to Kiptcha’s palace, of sorts.



As Kiptcha stepped in, Nastassiya seemed to appear out of nowhere. The young arrancar girl seemed to be troubled, and Kiptcha instinctively tried to jump to the side, crashing into Isredel. Isredel caught her, but it only sent Nastassiya into more of a fit.

“You’re late! You’re late mistress! And the shinigami has his zampaku-to! You could have been attacked! Why have you done this?!”

Kiptcha sighed and looked at Isredel. “You might as well surrender your sword to her. She won’t rest until you do.”

Isredel complied, although hesitantly. “ I’ve got to go back to that cell too, don’t I?”

Seija, Tatyana, Yuliya, and Alyona appeared as Nastassiya scurried off. These were Kiptcha’s fracción. They were all concerned, and with the normal girlish annoyance at Isredel, started to pester Kiptcha of why she had thought it was okay to take him and leave without escort. Another appeared, and the girls moved out of his way. He looked remarkably like Isredel, except his features were harder, sharper. His eyes glinted with cold intention, and his movements were stiff and controlled.

“Mistress Kiptcha.”

“A-Aleksei!” Kiptcha stammered.

“What do you think you were doing, Mistress?” Aleksei asked coldly, regarding Isredel as someone who might try and kill anyone in sight.

“I went for a short walk. That’s all,” Kiptcha hissed distastefully. She grimaced under Aleksei’s stare and she stepped forward, letting the others crowd around Isredel and start to drag him back to his cell. It couldn’t bother her in the least whether Isredel bore audience to the coming conversation.

“Aleksei, you really needn’t worry about me. I just went for a walk,” Kiptcha explained.

“You went for a walk with an armed shinigami! Alone!” Aleksei exploded. “And judging by how energetic you are, you fell asleep. How could you even think about doing such a thing?!”

Kiptcha was a bit taken back at the outburst, and she looked way from Aleksei. “Serve the shinigami some dinner, and then leave him to himself,” Kiptcha ordered, sidestepping Aleksei and walking off, down the corridor opposite the one Isredel had just been dragged down. It led to her quarters, and she was determined on not taking out her outrage on her poor little subordinates.

Kiptcha slid down the wall of the corridor, sitting on the cool white floor. She sat there for some time, pondering what she should do. Could shinigami open portals from Heuco Mundo? Was it even remotely possible? Could the arrancar open a garganta in Seiretei? Of course . . . so Isredel could get out anytime he wanted, if her had his zampaku-to.

Reima ran up the corridor towards her, one of Kiptcha’s fracción that she rarely saw. Kiptcha blinked and stood up, wondering what the rush was for.

“Kiptcha-dono! Aizen-sama requests your audience concerning the shinigami. You must —” Reima reported hurriedly.

“Reima, calm down! Am I to take the shinigami as well?” Kiptcha assured.

The male arrancar shook his head negatively and ran off. Kiptcha sighed and she retraced her steps down the corridor.



Kiptcha entered into Aizen’s study, nervous a hell. She didn’t know why though, so she made herself gain some composure and relax. The doors were closed behind her and she was left alone with Aizen, who sat in the chair facing away from her. The orb of distortion was kept in the pillar beside him. Kiptcha knew this, but it didn’t help her mood.

“How are you Kiptcha?” Aizen quiet, calm voice asked.

Kiptcha smiled a bit, “I’m fine, Aizen-sama.”

“Did you have a nice nap?”

Kiptcha jumped, suddenly aware that Aizen had noticed her falling asleep. She didn’t reply, not knowing what one could say to the occasion.

“I’m not mad at you, Kiptcha. There’s no reason for you to be afraid, but I can’t allow you to do it any longer.”

Kiptcha nodded and she lowered her eyes as Aizen turned around. She felt ashamed. She could have released the target! Then what would happen?

“Please bring Isredel to the throne room tomorrow. He needs to demonstrate his worth to the entire assembled Espada,” Aizen commanded, although soft.

Kiptcha nodded. “I understand, Aizen-sama. It will be done.”



Isredel laid on the floor, watching for any movement, any noise. There were none, as he expected. But, if he listened, he could hear soft footsteps. They were getting closer, he realized. They passed, not stopping. Isredel shrugged.

Kiptcha retraced her steps a few minutes later and opened the door to Isredel’s cell, closing I after herself. She quietly walked over to where Isredel lie sleeping, and she was careful not to make any noise that might disturb him.

Isredel’s hand shot out and grabbed the intruder’s ankle, pulling it out from under them. When they hit the ground there was the sound of air escaping. A small moan followed. After that, there was silence. His target didn’t get back up. He rolled over to see the door closed partially, as if to make everyone outside think that it was closed. He looked down at his target. It was Kiptcha.

“Res, was there any particular reason for that?” Kiptcha asked stiffly, struggling back to her feet.

“I was going to knock out whoever came in her and escape, of course. You ruined that plan,” Isredel hissed.

Kiptcha managed to get to her feet, and she walked over to the lone chair that sat in the middle of the room. She sat down heavily and began her report.

“Res, I’m really sorry about today. I suppose I’ve put you in a horrible position, since Aizen can figure out most things quite easily. You’ve been summoned to perform your only use. You’ve got to open a portal to Seiretei. If you don’t, you’ll be killed.”

Isredel looked at Kiptcha’s thin figure sitting there, and he stood. He walked over to her and grabbed her collar. With his strength he lifted her up to his eyes level. “I don’t want your goddamned pity. I’d rather die than let the arrancar into Seiretei.”

Kiptcha face contorted into a mask of pain. “Then I’ll never be able to find my peace, finish my promise with Aizen-sama! I must finish my last task, Isredel. I’ve been promised a final resting place. I was promised. I was promised!”

Isredel scoffed, his laughter rang in Kiptcha’s ears. “You’ve been promised what exactly? What has Aizen promised you that you’d actually want?”

“A honorable seppku,” Kiptcha whispered.
[Seppku - a form of suicide that involves slicing one’s stomach open and dying of blood loss.]

“Seppku?!” Isredel repeated, dropping Kiptcha. “Why would you do that?”

“That’s what I want. You needn’t interfere,” Kiptcha said calmly, readjusting her uniform. She stood and turned towards the door. “Have a nice night, shinigami.”

“Don’t go!” Isredel yelled, leaping after her. He grabbed her arm and pulled back, pulling her into him. It would have worked that way, but Kiptcha brushed his hand off and continued out the door. The door closed, and Isredel was left alone in his cell.

Isredel pounded on the door, but to no avail. Nothing happened. He let out a frustrated shriek of rage and sunk to the floor. He heard sounds from outside, but they weren’t footsteps. They were muffled sobs. They were Kiptcha’s as she built up the resolve to do what must be done.

After awhile, the sobs faded away, followed by quickly retreating footsteps.



Isredel stood in front of Aizen the next day, with Kiptcha standing by his side. She was emotionless, a doll that obeyed the puppet-master. She had dragged him in here in chains, and she held his zampaku-to. She now stood erect and facing completely forward.

He hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation though, and he was surprised when Kiptcha removed the shackles, and thrust his sword into his hands. He was startled, and he stood there blankly, staring back at Kiptcha.

“What?” he asked, slightly annoyed.

“The portal.” Kiptcha said harshly, unfeelingly.

Isredel unsheathed his sword, hung it horizontally in the air. Like one might turn a key in a lock, Isredel turned his sword and a portal opened. He smirked up at Aizen briefly, grabbed Kiptcha around the waist, and darted into Seiretei, back home and free. The portal closed behind him, but he paid no heed.

Kiptcha struggled, and he set her down, smiling at the rooftops that made up Seiretei. Kiptcha immediately swung a kick at him, catching him in the side with a spinning kick. He flew off the ground, and watched in horror as Kiptcha reappeared in front of him, sending out more strikes.

“What the hell are you doing, Kiptcha?! Think through this!” Isredel yelled, blocking the last strike.

“I have thought it out. And I’m going to render you incapacitated so I can open a garganta,” Kiptcha replied softly. She was dispassionate and cold. She was the arrancar she had been made to be by Aizen, a part of his fighting army.

Isredel spat out some blood, and he felt his side where her first kick had caught him. The 4th squad would have to do some repair later. “Get a hold of yourself, Kipt. There’s no reason for this.”

Kiptcha didn’t respond, except for launching another series of attacks. They were powerful, and Isredel found that the only way he could come close to blocking them would be to use his zampaku-to. The arrancar had tons of power, and Kiptcha only seemed to use hers to mix the blood she drew from her own hand with that of her victim. Then she could complete a binding spell that tied the two lifelines together, in one direction.

Isredel finally landed a blow and Kiptcha retreated to examine the cut. With satisfaction, she passed her hand over it and looked up at Isredel. “You should be more careful, shinigami,” she cackled. The cut that had been across her stomach disappeared, and Isredel felt a searing pain, followed by the wetness of blood. Concern flitted across his face when he realized what she had done.

“Yes, my dear shinigami, you cannot kill me, because all of your wounds will be reflected back to you. Do you get it now?” Kiptcha asked. She held up a hand to rip the fabric of the world, going to return to Las Noches.

Isredel moved quickly, launching a hopeless offense to stop her. He then noticed that she was wearing finger-less gloves of grey, hiding the still cut and bloody hand. The glove was soaked, as if it still bled like the time she cut it. Blood ran down her arm, and she looked at it, alarm. Isredel understood. The binding reopened the wound.

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