Took me long enough. This is a short piece and sorry it's late, aizome . I love you and Chad both. <3 Un-beta-ed. Feedback welcome.
Disclaimer: Kubo Tite invented Yasutora Sado and owns the rights to the character. Not enough other people besides Kubo-sensei write about Sado.
Description: (G) Short fic written for a friend’s birthday. Sado is contemplative even as he’s punching down Hollow after Hollow. Usually I call Sado “
for Alex with love
Dime con quién andas, y te dire quién eres. (Tell me with whom you walk, and I will tell you who you are). ~Spanish proverb
After Unohana healed him, Sado rose on new legs and stood on the hard sands on Hueco Mundo.
That sense of the unfamiliar becoming familiar. I know this place.
The feeling was called déjà vu, and it was easy to forget that it was an honest, true feeling and not just fancy French until the feeling filled him--this time stronger than ever.
Hueco Mundo was a home he’d never visited.
Since when was coming home an unsettling feeling? If the house was empty and dark … but no, it wasn’t eerily quiet here; Sado could sense nearby friends, the rush of their excited reiatsu. He could feel their feet racing to the rescue.
He felt their hands clasp their tsuka and draw.
The power that stirred in his own soul was a dark and terrible one, a destructive force that belonged to devils. The surge in his forearms, palms and fingers seemed to follow a brutish will of its own--like a Hollow’s to kill, consume, finish.
The scary power didn’t worry Sado though. For as Hollow-like as his potential offensive power was, his defensive urges were still human.
I’m here for my friends.
And at that thought, he ran as fast as he could on legs charged with demon power.
I’m not any faster than before but I’m definitely stronger. Too bad. He would’ve liked to have been fast like Ichigo or Ishida.
Reunited with three friends at the foot of the
Right there, Sado felt on fire for a battle. Destroy, destroy. He wanted to pummel and kill.
When the desert monsters rose, Sado’s energy was at a roaring peak but he soon found out that destroying his opponents was as simple as touching them. Fist forward, enemy down. One breath, another foe, another punch, inhale, exhale--the process was soon a sort of burning meditation. Intense but not strenuous. Mesmerizing, almost lulling.
Renji was annoyed. “They just keep coming,” he said.
“No problem,” Sado said.
It didn’t matter if their powers weren’t tested to their limits here; the point was to buy Ichigo time to do what Ichigo had to do--defeat the strongest enemy and bring back their friend.
Inhale, exhale. Fist forward, enemy down.
Ichigo had moved on to the true fight and the nakama at the bottom of the giant tower would handle the fodder.
Sado wondered where Ishida was but knew their friend would be here soon. Sado wasn’t always that good of a judge of character and had miscalculated Ishida once. Something about how complicated people are vulnerable--well, that had just been damn wrong. Ishida had shown up to join the entourage leaving for Soul Society just like Inoue had said he would, and before this mission, Ishida had been the first in line, standing in Urahara’s underground training facility with blue fire in his eyes. Nothing complicated about him really--a man with a singular purpose.
I’m here for my friends.
Knowing that made each desert monster going splat on the sand inspire no pity in Sado’s heart. Other enemies he’d felt sorry for; other enemies he’d breathed an apology towards while drawing back his fist. These guys could just bite it because Inoue was the one in danger, Inoue was the one they had stolen and brought to this horrible Hollow world.
“They’re disgusting,” yelled Renji over swirling pieces of desert monster. Zabimaru had sliced up a half dozen enemies in a single swipe, and white and red flesh was raining everywhere. “Why do they smell so bad?”
They didn’t smell bad to Sado, but that was no matter.
His power was Hollow-like, but that was no matter.
I’m here for my friends.
Renji was getting more impatient by the minute but that was Renji. Sometimes Renji needed to get worked up like that in order to fight his best.
He didn’t know Inoue-san like the others did, but that was no matter either. Renji hadn’t trained with her in a warehouse like Sado had, and Renji hadn’t tried to defend the girl when Urahara said she wasn’t cut out for the front lines, but Renji was still here … for his friends. Sado understood Renji just fine.
After all, Sado had gone to Soul Society not so much for the little “exchange student” whose name he barely knew as for the idea of friendship itself. Ichigo taught everybody about friendship. Ichigo--where was he?
Fighting the good fight and the toughest opponent like Ichigo always did.
I need a better fight. Please, a bigger stronger guy to fight. Someone to kill.
And it was just as Sado finished praying for his own decent opponent--the concept of praying in Hueco Mundo for someone to kill not being lost on Sado at all--that an answer to the prayer came crashing down.
The answer to the prayer almost landed on Rukia in fact.
It was Yammy.
The transformation in Yammy was like the one Sado felt in his own body. Yammy had grown more dangerous.
But Sado could only explain the change to his stunned companions as one of physical size.
“What do you mean he’s gotten bigger?” Renji was beyond aggravated now. “What is he? A teenager?”
No need to insult humans. It was obvious that Renji needed a real fight as much as Sado did. How many hundreds of years had Renji been a Shinigami and not learned to control that temper. He was so much like Ichigo--
The spiritual energy from above knocked Rukia to her knees and immobilized everyone else.
“Is it ….” Rukia breathed the name. “Ichigo?”
It wasn’t. Whatever it was, it was Hollow and it wasn’t Ichigo.
So where was Ichigo? Where was he? Where? Sado searched with his human senses and felt a coldness in his heart that was so deep it was almost like the absence of a heart: Is Ichigo dead?
The others didn’t sense it--not even Rukia. The look in her face showed more alarm than grief. She thought the crazy reiatsu was Ichigo. Renji was shielding his eyes with his forearm even though there was no light, only a thick, profuse sense of killing intent emanating from above the dome.
Yammy stood very still, eyes squinting at the sky.
In that moment, Sado no longer knew who he was. If Ichigo had fallen, then what would become of Sado’s human need to protect? His Hollow anger would swallow it whole.
Before Sado even thought of avenging Ichigo, the thought that he would never again fight alongside his best friend stunned him. How can I throw a fist if not for Ichigo’s sake? Both Sado’s hands dropped to his sides--open, empty hands.
If Ichigo’s not dead, then it’s worse than that.
Ichigo has become … the enemy?
For less than ten heartbeats, Sado would know the darkness of lost faith.
Somewhere above the dome, spirit energies clashed and dissipated. There was a great swell of something that Sado recognized as pain and then something else that felt like …knowledge? A reishi cloud had grown and was nodding darkly, like a wise sensei, over a scene of destruction. Amid the scattering particles of Life and Death, Sado could make out the steady thrum of Ichigo’s reiatsu, the good heart of his good friend.
Not dead. Alive. Ichigo was alive.
Sado knew he was famous for not saying much, but the fact was he never wanted to say anything that wasn’t obvious. In this case, he couldn’t help himself. “The heavy spiritual energy from above the dome….” Renji and Rukia were staring at the sky with wide eyes. “It disappeared.”
Sado’s faith in Ichigo, like Ichigo himself, had been born again.
My friend, my friend, I am here for you now. If you can keep your killer at bay, then so can I.
Then Yammy punched the tower, and rubble and dust fell to the ground. His giant hand stayed against its impression on the wall, and bits of rubble kept flying, like tiny innocent omens, into the wind.