Ichigo was well and truly frustrated at this point. It wasn't that he couldn't do damage to Hantokei—because he could do a lot of damage—but nothing Ichigo tried kept the other man down for long. And, not that he would tell anyone this, Hantokei's soul was wrong somehow.
Gin Ichimaru was still by far the creepiest soul Ichigo had ever touched. His focus had been entirely on Aizen. No doubts or desires disturbed the clear pool of his heart. Nothing could deter him from his goal, not fighting Ichigo, not abandoning Kira, not loving Matsumoto, not even the knowledge that challenging Aizen would end with Ichimaru's death regardless if he failed or succeeded. A monk with that much clarity and devotion would have become a saint in short order.
In comparison, Aizen was a run-of-the-mill psychopath and megalomaniac. His intelligence and his spiritual power made him unusually dangerous. But Ichigo had met plenty of psychopaths in his life, usually on the streets intending to fight him or Chad to prove their dominance and failing miserably. His boss at his only college internship had been a psychopath too, and Ichigo had been careful never to be alone with the man. So Aizen was twisted up inside but nothing special.
Fighting Hantokei reminded Ichigo of the Soul King, the first one. The Quincy half of his blood—did he even have blood as a soul?—had reacted with automatic revulsion to the presence of the Soul King and struck down the ancient creature on instinct. In their brief moment of contact, Ichigo had sensed something vast and unknowable, something old and out of sync with the world, something afraid of death but still ready and needing to move on to the next stage.
Hantokei was out of sync with the world too, in a different way than the Soul King, because of an accident of his birth, a twist of his fate. It wasn't fair, but there were plenty of people who lived with the pain of never fitting in and still managed not to hurt anyone else. Ichigo had been one of those people until he met Rukia and discovered his power. Under similar pressure, Hantokei had gone mad, convinced it was the world that was wrong rather than himself, and managed to twist other poor souls to match his own, luring them with the promise of immortality and leading them into undeath and unending torment instead.
Hantokei was immortal. That was true enough despite the apparent impossibility. As long as he chose not to die, he would persist. He was scared of dying too, the way most people were in Ichigo's experience. All of Ichigo itched to kill him, to release Hantokei from the prison of the world, and remove from the world the aberration that pained it. But not even Ichigo had that power. No one had that power. The best he could do was delay Hantokei until the containment seal was complete and ignore the way his skin shivered every time they clashed.
"How long can you keep fighting?" growled Hantokei. He was growing frustrated by their prolonged battle.
"Well—" began Ichigo.
"Do not tell him that," snapped Sasuke. "It's valuable tactical information."
"I'm not sure I know the answer anyway," admitted Ichigo.
He had fought with Tensa Zangetsu for almost three months. But that was in the privacy of his own mind. Then again, he was stronger now than he had been at age fifteen. He wasn't sure if staying in shikai rather than bankai would expand or limit his reserves or if maintaining the genjutsu of an ongoing battle below their feet was a significant drain. On the other hand, using smaller attacks meant he wasn't wasting energy trying to kill an unkillable enemy. Distraction was the name of the game.
"Surely you grow tired," insisted Hantokei.
Ichigo opened his mouth.
"Don't answer that either," growled Sasuke.
Ichigo closed his mouth and took a closer look at the state of his opponent and ally. Sasuke was the worst off of the three of them. He had massive reserves for a shinobi, but he was still only human. His arms stubbornly didn't tremble around his sword but his breathing was more labored than Ichigo would have prefered.
Hantokei didn't look tired, which was unsurprising, but there was a desperate air about him that hadn't existed before. Ichigo suspected the man had never faced opponents that could keep up with him before. Flying wasn't a common ability in the Elemental Countries, and no one had even heard of High-Speed Regeneration. The jinchuuriki had advanced healing capabilities, but if the Uzumaki village had been built on top of the seal containing Hantokei, then he had never fought one of those until his brief engagement with Naruto.
As far as anyone knew, Ichigo could keep going indefinitely. There was no need to push his limits and he had settled into an easy rhythm of close-range attack, defend and withdraw, long-range attack, repeat with only occasional variations. In other circumstances, Ichigo might have worried about losing focus and growing bored, but every clash against Hantokei made Ichigo's soul writhe in disgust and there was no growing numb to that kind of terror.
"Do you want a break?" Ichigo asked Sasuke.
"Do I want a what?" repeated Sasuke.
Ichigo looked at Hantokei and slid his right-hand sword into the sheath on his back. In the air he carefully traced the pattern Rukia had taught him and recited, "Disintegrate, you black dog of Rondanini! Look upon yourself with horror and then claw out your own throat! Bakudo #9: Geki!"
A red light surrounded Hantokei and he froze in place as the spell activated. Ichigo could vaguely feel Hantokei struggling against the bakudo in the back of his head like a stray thought struggling for attention. Fortunately, the eeriness of Hantokei existence didn't travel down this particular bond.
"That should hold him for a second or two," said Ichigo.
Rukia would be proud. She'd probably call him an idiot for announcing his intentions in the middle of a battle, but she'd be proud of the spell. Ichigo usually blew up all but the highest level of kido when he tried to use them in a fight. Maybe because he wasn't in bankai this time? Ichigo would need to experiment later. His to do list was massive.
"What is that?" demanded Sasuke. His eyes were locked on the immobile Hantokei but his breathing was evening out already.
"A paralysis spell," said Ichigo retrieving Zangetsu's second blade from its sheath. He would have to practice performing kido while holding his zanpakuto too. Then again, there were all those ninjutsu he still needed to learn. Or was he done with that now that the Chunin Exams were over? The Hokage had been unclear, but she had placed him with ANBU.
"You could do that this whole time?" hissed Sasuke in disbelief. "Why did we need to fight him at all?
"Bakudo aren't escape proof if you're strong enough," explained Ichigo. "But they'll hold for a few seconds." Hantokei was pushing hard against the paralysis. It would break soon.
"Long enough to strike a final blow," mused Sasuke.
Ichigo imagined that was how the onmitsukido used such spells. From what he understood, talent with kido varied among Shinigami Academy students as much as any other skill and didn't include the near-automatic promotion of achieving shikai or bankai.
"There's no striking a final blow on an opponent that can resurrect himself," pointed out Ichigo.
"There are poisons that slow healing," suggested Sasuke.
"That's not what he's doing," said Ichigo.
"Really?" asked Sasuke in surprise. "What is he doing?"
"He's reversing the damage. Making it so he was never hurt. The world twists around him a little bit to manage. It feels weird," said Ichigo. He would have said gross. But he was under the impression that shinobi weren't particularly sensitive to squeamishness.
Sasuke was quiet as he thought over this explanation. "I haven't noticed anything. But I'm not a sensor."
"I'm not a sensor," protested Ichigo.
"But you are an Uzumaki," corrected Sasuke. "And many Uzumaki are sensors. Maybe this is why. To watch for people like Hantokei."
"Well, you watch out for him too, he's about to break out," said Ichigo.
Sasuke lifted his sword into the ready position. The red light around Hantokei shattered like an exploding bulb. With a loud roar, the battle began once again.
-0-0-0-0-0-
Jugo helped settle the latest injured samurai on an empty spot and then stepped out of the hastily erected medical tent. The word tent was something of a misnomer. Someone had tied several tarps together and strung them up between a few dilapidated walls on the edge of Uzushio to provide minimal cover. The injured were divided into two sections: those who had been knocked unconscious by the sudden loss of chakra when Hantokei activated the village-wide suppression seal and had yet to wake and those who had sustained physical injury during the battle with the Hantokei clones.
The dead, those who never woke from the crippling loss of chakra or had bled out their lives despite the medics' best efforts, were set a short distance away, their faces covered by whatever material was to hand. Jugo moved the bodies while those with medical training used their chakra for the living. Even Yuzu had gone back inside to assist with first aid when it became clear the fighters were trying to avoid the area.
Jugo had considered returning to the center of the town to assist Sasuke and Suigetsu, but ultimately decided to wait. First, Sasuke had flown into the air to fight alongside Ichigo, which made him virtually unreachable. Suigetsu was still out there, Jugo didn't know how to find him. If the swordsman were in danger he could liquify and escape, but he wouldn't if it meant leaving Jugo alone. Finally, Jugo was exhausted mentally from their charge through the city to rescue Karin. While it was true that Jugo could draw on natural chakra to bolster his power, defeating the newly resurrected members of the Uzumaki Clan would take more than simple power. If he lost control of himself, he'd be worse than useless. He would become an active threat to everyone around him.
Jugo's best course of action was to stand watch and move stuff for the medcis when asked. Eventually, the Uzumaki would attack the med-tent. It was only a matter of time, and he would be ready when they did.
Jugo found a sheltered spot by a half-crumbled wall where he could oversee most of the approaches to the emergency shelter but still hear his name from the tent if anyone needed him. He carefully drew tiny sips of natural chakra from the earth and air to replenish his reserves without entering his berserker mode and tried to track the sounds of fighting.
The wavering field of chakra floating above the battlefield made him nervous. He was no sensor, but not even Jugo could miss the layer of chakra resting lightly above the rooftops. Looking up was like staring through a pane of aging glass. There was so much chakra in the air that it hindered visibility as a side-effect. He was reminded strongly of Infinite Tsukuyomi, but if the chakra was a genjutsu, then it wasn't pointed at the ground. If it was a genjutsu, then Jugo hoped either Sasuke or Ichigo was the one who had made it. A technique like that under Hantokei command was too dangerous.
Movement in Jugo's peripheral vision drew his attention away from the aerial battle. One of the shadowy figures summoned by Hantokei was wavering in the faint breeze. They were scattered throughout the village, but they seemed to congregate in open spaces. Jugo would have thought they were more Uzumaki or Hantokei look-a-likes but they had remained unchanged when the Uzumaki were summoned and had only appeared after the controlling clone was destroyed.
Jugo shivered and moved away from the eerie shadow. His threshold for creepiness was considerably lower than it had been before this Hantokei menace had appeared, not that it had been all that high to begin with.
A shinobi bearing the crescent moon of Getsugakure came into view dragging a semi-conscious Kiri-nin toward the medical tent. Jugo rushed to meet him.
"Chakra-drain or injured?" asked Jugo as he took most of the injured kunoichi's weight.
"We were knocked through a wall by giant chains. He was unarmed and then bam! She landed badly," gasped the shinobi.
"Chakra chains, an Uzumaki technique," explained Jugo. "Physical injuries go to the right. Two more, Karin. She's got a concussion. I don't know about him."
"I'm not—" began the shinobi.
Kurosaki Karin popped into view and gave the man a hard, analytical stare. "Broken ribs. Sit down until someone can fix you. There. Jugo, take her to triage."
Her tone brooked no argument. The shinobi staggered away to sit and wait for medical attention. Yuzu was already stalking his way with a roll of gauze to tape up his ribs.
Jugo deposited the injured Kiri-nin in the row of more seriously wounded patients. He set her on her side in the recovery position in case the concussion was more severe than expected and she vomited. Then he stood and surveyed the tent.
No one new had died, which was good. A few of the chakra-drained shinobi had woken up and pushed themselves into the corners. They were too weak to fight, but they could clear up space for the more seriously wounded. That was good too.
Despite the pressing need for space, everyone left a wide area around the black shadow hovering near the center of the tent. There hadn't been a way to set up the med-tent without including at least one of the shadows. They were everywhere in the village and leaving the area would put the medics too far away from the action. Despite its haze-like appearance, the shadow hadn't responded to any attempts to disperse it by hand or blow it away with wind jutsu.
This one was darker than the ones outside, perhaps because it was out of the sun. And it didn't shift with the breeze, likely because there was none in the tent, but an irrational part of Jugo thought it was too still. The idea made him anxious and he quickly skirted around the thing as he went to take up his watch post.
The battle had come no closer in the time Jugo was away. Sasuke and Ichigo were still fighting Hantokei in the sky, the chakra still blurring their motions too much. Every so often, Ichigo would pause in his assault and Hantokei would get caught up in some weird glowing light or Sasuke would dart in and do something that made his sword gleam in the sunlight. Both of them were careful not to ease up on Hantokei, unwilling to give him enough time to use a complex technique.
Another flicker of motion caught Jugo's eye. It was a shadow moving in the wind again. Jugo examined it more closely. It was vaguely person-shaped with a large columnar body peaking to a smaller top that might have been a head with no distinct features. Jugo hoped it was his imagination, but he thought the shadow might have been a touch darker than it was before. He backed away and a wave of cold washed over him.
Jugo yelped and leapt to the side. Whirling around, he saw that he had moved into another, different shadow and that this one was definitely darker than the other. Jugo quickly scanned the space around him. There were undeniably more shadows occupying the space than there had been before. He saw at least ten, possibly more. Except for the ones closest to him, most of the shadows were hazy and insubstantial and hard to count.
Cold bit at his wrist like a snake. Jugo yelped again and shook his arm frantically. He knocked away the shadow clinging to him, but that only meant it was now solid enough to knock away. Jugo turned his head this way and that looking for a way to escape, but he was surrounded by haze. Those shadows that weren't circling Jugo were gliding toward the medical tent.
"Karin! Yuzu!" he yelled in fear.
There was movement from the edge of the tent. Kurosaki's dark-haired little sister stuck her head out, drawn by his cry. The young woman looked at the scene with disbelief then shock then horror.
"Sakura-sensei!" she shouted. "Hold on, Jugo!" She started toward him but had to and duck away as the nearest shadows surged toward her.
There was a strangled scream from inside the tent, a man's scream, but one that cut off too quickly for his liking. Every shinobi was suffering from chakra depletion and these shadows fed on chakra. They were all in danger. His friend was in danger.
Fear and fury roared through Jugo. His connection to the natural chakra around him burst open and he drew in every scrap of power he could. His body transformed into its berserk sage form. There was a brief heartbeat where everything was still, then all the shadows in the area swarmed him with more coming from farther away.
Jugo shrieked in terror, but in his transformed state it sounded like a warcry. He thrashed wildly shoving at the shadows covering in him. They were only substantial enough to hit after they had drained away his chakra, which meant they were getting stronger as the fight went on. A few of the more mobile shinobi from the medical tent came out to help, but while their chakra-based attacks did some damage to the shadows. Nothing seemed able to kill them.
Jugo shrieked again as a woman's face popped into his field of vision. She was mostly transparent and completely devoid of color, only made of shades of grey, but her features were fully defined and Jugo could see her watching him. Her eyes would have been flat and dead as those of the Hantokei-clones if not for ravenous hunger burning in their depths.
"Give me your life," she crooned.
Jugo gagged. The very sound of her voice made his stomach heave in protest and his head swirled in vertigo. He thought his ears might be bleeding but couldn't be sure. The woman's existence was wrong, more so than any undead or any monster cooked up in Orochimaru's lab.
Jugo swung hard at her head and she caught his hand. Her grip was so cold it seared his skin like an open flame. He tried to yank free but found he was too weak.
A brilliant white bolt burst through the shade's head, the same kind that had interrupted Hantokei earlier. Everything froze. The female shade went limp. Jugo and stared through the hole in the shadow's head. There was no blood inside her skull, only pulsing blackness that may have been the ghost of brain-tissue.
"Jugo, run!" yelled Karin her voice clear and pure as a bell. He would have run, but moving would mean touching another of the ghastly things. It hurt too much and he was so tired.
The hole filled in from the inside out, erasing the damage completely, and the hunger in the ghostly eyes flared brighter than before. Her grip on his arm tightened and the rest of the shadows started piling on.
"Your life is sweet," the shade sing-songed. Her voice ripped at his mind. "I want it. Give it to me."
Other shadows, having stolen enough chakra to manifest clearly, took up the demand. "Life! Give us life! Your life!"
Every voice was as gut-wrenching wrong as the first and made him want to wretch. Jugo jerked and wriggled trying to escape but couldn't move. Icy death sank its teeth into every inch of his body. His natural ability to absorb sage-chakra couldn't keep up with the strain, and the transformation started to reverse itself.
Jugo's vision went dark, and the world burned away.