Tip the Balance

Waking up wasn’t supposed to hurt.

        Twilight Sparkle blinked, looking about as sunlight streamed down around her. SHe was lying on a futon, the floor covered in grass matting. She continued to blink as her brain registered the unusual formation if her legs, and proceeded to look down. She yelped at how she looked, and at how she was dressed. SHe was human, but not he familiar body she had in her time across the mirror. She wasn’t sure what she was now, only that it was wrong. She was noticeably more muscular in her current form, and covered nearly completely in bandages rather than any form of clothing. She lifted a hand to her head and found her burning and throbbing forehead, but no horn.  Instead, on the left side of her forehead, she felt what seemed to be a bone ridge or mask. She tugged at it experimentally, and after it didn’t come off or move, she left it alone. As she slowly lowered her hand, she caught a glimpse at the calluses there. The hand was cracked, but tough and leathery, as if it was accustomed to using tools. But that wasn’t true, she knew. She was a bookworm for most of her life, and, to her embarrassment, had barely worked hard physically for more than a week in her life, total. But the body she was inhabiting was a worker. Her hair was the familiar purple and blue, the single pink stripe hanging in front of her eyes. She groaned, her head finally falling onto the futon again. For a few seconds she lay there, contemplating the insane situation she was in, then proceeded to rise and stagger into a human standing position. She glanced around again at the room she found herself in, silently assessing it. The walls appeared to be made of paper and wood, much like old art styles from Eastern Equis. The ceiling was made of the same stuff as the floor, and the floor felt firm under her feet. To the left was a sword leaning up against the wall, and she found herself picking it up.

        It was a beautiful blade, she realized. The blade itself was single edged, with a tiny guard in the shape of a six-sided star, much like her cutie mark. The hilt of the blade was long enough for both hands to grip comfortably, but could be wielded with one hand just as easily. One of her brother’s military terms came to her: hand-and-a-half. It seemed a suitable name. The scabbard was a deep purple, fringed at the top with a thin band of blue cloth that allowed it to be slung over one’s shoulder. She slid the sword back in the scabbard, and found herself slinging it over one shoulder. The length of the cloth placed the scabbard at waist height, so it could be easily drawn with one hand. She also found a pair of sandals in the corner of the room, next to where she found the blade. She pulled the sandals on, and she found that they fit well. She finally got around to looking for someone to explain what happened.

She slid the screen door to the left, and crossed the short hallway to find herself in what looked like a convenience store. She glanced at the writing on the front of the counter, finding the glyphs unintelligible. But when she looked at the words as a whole, their meaning became clear: Urahara Shop. The shop was small, barely twenty paces wide, and the whole place was lined with short, shoulder level shelves. She paced along the aisles, reading labels that didn’t seem to make sense.

“What is a ‘portable gigai’?” she muttered, staring at the small black capsule. It didn’t seem  like a portable anything, unless it was some sort of truth teller. She tried talking to it.

“My name is Reed.” The ball didn’t react. Another look at the ball revealed it to have an inflation nozzle on one side. Twilight was curious at the nature of the gigai, but she left the thing alone, mainly due to more pressing matters. Instead, she glanced around for someone to talk to.

She glanced outside and saw humans that looked an awful lot like her, with that same pasty colored skin, large amounts of them. She cautiously opened the door and started walking across the street. No one paid her any attention as she walked among them, even as Twilight herself noticed her lacking of clothing. She wondered at the fact that no one was looking at her or giving her glares, only to find that there was someone looking. A middle-aged man was floating above the rest of the crowd, staring at her in what looked like fear. She waved. “Hello!”

        The man screamed and floated away.

She looked around again, and noticed that there were body parts passing through her. Arms, legs, even a whole child managed to run straight through her stomach. She gasped as he passed through. Her breathing started getting shallow, she was hyperventilating.

Am I dead?

She forced herself to calm down, take in one long, deep breath... Then, something crazy happened- everyone around her fell over.

She felt a force collecting around her lips, and she tasted something curious in her mouth. She swallowed hesitantly and looked around at all the people who fell over. She crouched as she stared at one of the fallen people, and she noticed he looked pale. His chest wasn’t moving. His eyes were open, and he wasn’t blinking. He was dead.

Everyone around her was dead.

She fought to keep her hyperventilation under control again, staggering and leaning on a lamppost. They were dead. All of those people were dead. She killed them all! She breathed, and they were dead. It seemed so easy, like an accident. Twilight Sparkle breathed thirty people to death. Her tears were hot as they dripped down the side of her face. She continued looking down and leaning on the lamppost, so she never saw the loud, red headed boy until he loudly announced his presence.

“Hey, Arrancar!”

She glanced up to see a teenager in black robes floating a few meters above the ground, carrying a huge black sword. There wasn’t any sort of guard on the massive sashimi knife, and he was pointing the blade straight at her. “Huh?” She sniffed through her tears.

“I’m Ichigo Kurosaki, substitute Shinigami! I protect this town, and it looks like you managed to kill all these people. And that means you’re dead!” His last words involved him rushing from his position, slashing fiercely at her.

“Waah!” Twilight’s eyes widened at the sudden violence, and she made the stupid move of raising an arm to her face. The sword flashed through the air and came down crashing on her forearm, and she screamed, falling to her knees. Her eyes opened slowly to see a very mad looking teenager holding a sword, her forearm holding the killing edge at bay.The boy blinked, then stepped back to swing again. This time, he stabbed at her stomach, ripping through one of the bandages, but still making no progress in harming her. Twilight was just as confused as the boy seemed to be, slowly staggering to her feet. She made eye contact.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

The boy made no comment, instead yelling and swinging his sword at her neck in a horizontal slash. The blade clanged loudly on her neck, and she coughed from the impact, still braced against the lamppost, but she still didn’t bleed. He made several strikes against her body, never doing any damage other than cutting up the bandages on her stomach and shoulders.

Twilight coughed again, scared out of her skull at the fact that she was being attacked by a boy with a very menacing sword, and the fact that she wasn’t being cut to ribbons. She slowly staggered back upright after being knocked to the ground again, this time drawing the sword she had on her waist, imitating the grip the boy used. “Please, stop.” She adjusted herself so that both of her small hands wrapped around the hilt. She was still leaning on the same lamppost.

“Why should I, Arrancar? You killed all those people. I say that forfeits any chance you had at getting me to stop.” He slashed again, but this time, Twilight reacted. She brought the sword up, deflecting the other blade to the side, then moving into a slash across the boy’s ribs. His robe tore open, and he jumped back. Twilight slowly removed her left hand from the hilt of her blade, moving into a defensive stance, sword ready in front.

Ichigo Kurosaki charged her again, this time with a stabbing motion, the sail shaped blade facing down. Her left hand now placed on the bottom of the hilt, she turned her blade horizontal to the ground and crouched, pushing up. Ichigo’s sword slid along her own, overshooting and gliding over her shoulder. From that position, she made a second pass across his ribs, cutting slightly deeper than before. Turning the blade as he sailed past, another cut across his stomach began to bleed, with Twilight still untouched.

When did I learn to do that?

Ichigo gasped as the cuts were made, and he turned to face her once again.

“Damn.” He charged a third time, slashing quickly and brutally. This time, she held her sword forward, one hand on the flat of the blade. She flicked her wrist, sending her blade flashing outwards, bouncing off of the heavier and more forceful blow of Ichigo’s sword. She ducked underneath the now clumsy and off-balanced attack, slashing again at her attacker’s ribs. He now had several cuts across his chest, while Twilight had taken no damage besides the loose bandages that now fluttered behind her. What in Equestria is going on?

She knew she wasn’t going to get answers from her attacker-slash-target, so she turned and fled from the scene. However, Ichigo blurred into existence in front of her, sending a brutal vertical slash along with a strange cry: “Getsuga Tenshou!” The blade glowed blue; raw power that almost seemed like it was sharp came roaring towards her. She needed to move, move fast, move now...

A deep resonating sound came from her body, and she found herself standing a few feet away. The blue energy had failed to touch her, and she started running again, this time in the opposite direction, her mind whirring to find some sort of conclusion.

I’m not sure what’s going on, but it’s not good. I’m human again, but I don’t know how I got here this time. There’s a very angry teen chasing after me with a very big sword, and he’s apparently angry at me for... killing... those people over there. I killedpeople! This... this place is insane!  I can fight with a sword? I never learned any of these techniques before... I didn’t do anything special last night? ... I... what didI do last night? I... I can’t remember? Why can’t I remember anything? My name is Twilight Sparkle. I’m a unicorn. I live in Ponyville with Spike. I have five best friends, and I’m the student of Princess Celestia. I... I’m... Uh...

She started to try to remember more about herself, but her train of thought was cut off when Ichigo appeared again, blocking her current mode of escape. He slashed again, swinging with a mighty overhand blow that probably would cleave her in half. So she brought her sword up and stopped the slash with both hands, one braced on the back edge of the one-sided blade, the other holding the hilt. She slid her sword down, allowing her to get inside his guard and slash with her much shorter blade in her right hand, scoring another shallow cut across the ribs. She spun away, running again in the same direction she started in. But Ichigo was being persistent in chasing her down, and he stepped in front of her again, about twenty feet away.

“Stop running, Arrancar. There’s nowhere for you to go.” Ichigo brought his blade up and said those same words. “Getsuga Tenshou!” This time, the energy was black and malevolent, almost like there was evil embedded in the attack. She brought her hands together on the hilt, forming a flattened hand and a fist, moving out of instinct. Energy formed in front of her fist, humming and whining, and she willed it released towards its target. A huge, blue beam emitted from her hands, blasting a hole in the Getsuga Tenshou, and knocking Ichigo to the ground. The blast was sudden, emitting a low resonance, different from her instantaneous movement from before. Ichigo slowly picked up his sword, his chest now coated with cuts and blood, the front of his robe ripped open. “Damn, you’re strong.”

Twilight took several cautious backwards steps away from him. “Please, sir. Stop trying to hurt me.” She was on the verge of tears again. “I... I don’t like hurting you.” Twilight didn’t want to admit the thrill she got from her fight with the boy, so she tried denying it verbally. Maybe she was just excited, so she attempted to calm down. “Please, I just want to get home!” Every word that she spoke was completely true, yet her mouth seemed like it didn’t want to form those words, like they were blasphemous and shouldn’t be said by the body she was in. Like she was being a coward just for uttering any form of reluctance to fight the human in front of her.

“That’s funny.”

“Wh-Why?”

Ichigo snorted roughly. “All of your friends are here, trying to destroy us. And you’re no different.” Ichigo pointed to her face. “Whose Fraccion are you?”

“Fraccion?”

Ichigo blinked in surprise, then tried again. “Who do you serve? Who is your master?”

Twilight blinked back at him. “No one that I know of.” She relaxed slightly. Maybe the man with the sword was just crazy. Maybe it was her who was crazy. Maybe she was in a nice, safe padded room in the hospital.

Ichigo frowned. He asked, “Then are you an Espada? Your spiritual pressure is too high for you to be anything else.”

Twilight was getting even more confused. “Espada?”

“You’re not an Espada?” Ichigo scratched his head.

“No! I don’t know what’s going on!”

“Hmph. You’re one of the most confusing enemies I’ve ever fought, and that includes Ikakku. Well, come on!” He pointed his sword at her.

She decided now would be a good time to stop wondering and go on the offensive. She jumped from the building, stabbing quickly and rapidly at his chest and stomach. He blocked all seven of the blows with the flat of his blade but the last one, which she aimed at his upper right arm, cutting his bicep in half and gouging out some of his right pectoral with the tip of the blade. His blood flowed onto the sword, and she quickly pulled back, landing with a skid in the middle of the air three feet behind and below him. She slashed again, this time across his legs, and he couldn’t move his injured arm in time for him to block all three shallow cuts along his calves, allowing one leg to start bleeding. She lashed out with the blade one last time, deflecting one more of Ichigo’s counter blows before she snapped out of her battle reverie, stepping back in horror at her efficiency, and staring in horror at the blood coating her sword. Unfortunately, that allowed Ichigo to score another painful swipe at her stomach, sending her skidding away from him.

“Wow. You’re pretty good, Arrancar. What’s your name?”

“My name? My name is Twilight.”

“Huh.” Ichigo was visibly confused. “That’s not a name I would expect from an Arrancar.”

Twilight finally had the nerve to ask, “What in Tartarus is an Arrancar?”

Ichigo almost stumbled at her words. “You don’t know what you are?”

“No!”

Ichigo stared at her for nearly a minute, like he was looking for something. He finally pointed at her right thigh.

“I call bullshit, Espada. I can see your tattoo.”

Twilight looked down at her thigh, wrapped in bandages. A small pacth of black greeted her, peeping out from one of the snapped wraps of gauze. She slowly unwrapped her leg, and found a strange, serifed... one under her bandage. “One?” She muttered. “That’s an odd cutie mark.” She turned to see Ichigo charging her again, swinging his sword from behind him. The blow was powerful, sending her flying into the side of a building, but it still didn’t cut her. She wondered why his blade seemed so dull compared to her skin, as she shakily got to her feet, sword ready. “Why... is it a one? What’s it even supposed to represent? Math?”

Ichigo recoiled as he glanced at the number, but then he squinted. “Huh. You seem too... scrawny.”

Twilight glanced up again. “S-scrawny? Scrawny for...?”

“The First. Although, that would explain why I can’t cut you.”

“The First? First what?”

“The First Sword. La Primera Espada.” The First Sword?

Twilight objected. “I’m not the first anything! The closest I’ve ever been to being first was that one Running of the Leaves... I placed fifth.” she finished lamely.

“Huh?”

“Please... believe me. I don’t belong here. What I’m doing to you... it’s scaring me. I just want to get home.” Twilight felt her tears coming again, falling down her cheeks even as she noticed her body getting back into a ready stance.

Ichigo scoffed. “Sure. What’s next. You’re secretly a magic alien from another universe?”

“... Yes.”

Ichigo slapped his hand to his face.

“Okay. I may be rash, but I’m not stupid. You’re clearly confused or something. Leave. I will stop attacking.”

“S-sure.” She sheathed her sword. “You know,” she added nervously, glancing around her at the destroyed remains of the building, “The only thing you were hurting with that sword of yours was property.” She caught her reflection in a broken shard of glass in the pile of rubble. The top half of the left side of her face was obscured by a white mask, cracked but still remarkable looking: raised and indented bands ran across it horizontally, with an odd pattern of light purple diamonds across the lowermost stripe. The mask obscured one of her eyes, which appeared as a thin, rectangular black slit on her face that paradoxically did nothing to obscure or impair her vision. The diamonds sat below her eye, but before the angular end of the mask.

“...yeah,” Ichigo said, looking down, “ but when we meet again, I’ll kick your ass! And... put on some clothes!”

Twilight noticed, for the second time, her bandages. More correctly, the ribbons of severed bandages that showed most of her perfectly undamaged body, along with the circular hole in her chest.

A hole... in my chest?

She looked up at Ichigo’s slashed robe, and at his bloody chest. There wasn’t any hole in him that she could see. “Hey, I-chigo?” She tried to say his name.

“Yeah?”

“What’s this hole in my chest?” She passed her hand through it again, confirming it was actually there.

“It’s where your soul used to be.” Ichigo was blunt in his answer, if not getting confused himself by her questions and actions.

My soul...

She looked up in Ichigo’s direction. Her hands were on the hole in her chest, her missing soul. For the third time that day, she felt herself on the verge of tears.

“Am I dead?”

But Ichigo Kurosaki was gone.

Coyote Starrk blinked wearily at the weak sunlight coming in. A form next to him, which he presumed to be Lilynette, stirred in her sleep. He shakily got onto all fours, glancing around the darkened room.

The first thing he noticed was that his anatomy felt... wrong. He looked behind him, to see his barrel, the grey fur on his back, and the symbol printed on his flank: A white starburst surrounded by six others. He glanced back at Lilynette, seeing that she was also one of the horse things, with her flank marked with a lone pink star. That was all the information he needed at the moment. He sighed and fell on his haunches.

“Gah.”

He shook Lilynette awake. “Hey, Lilynette.”

“Huh?” Lilynette blinked. “Starrk’s wakin’ me up? It’s a fuckin’ miracle.”

“Get up.” Starrk glanced around at their surroundings: Rows of bookshelves and a wooden door. They were in a library. “Something’s wrong.”

Lilynette glanced at Starrk, then looked again, staring at his shaggy hair. “Are you a horse, Starrk?”

“So are you.”

“Fuck.” Lilynette said, noticing the dim room in the weakening light. “Let’s turn on the lights, Starrk.”

Starrk located a light switch on the far wall, and flicked on a single incandescent bulb hanging in the middle of the room. Starrk finally got a good look at Lilynette’s new form: A pale white coat with a poison green mane, a horn on her head, and an annoyed look on her face. She could still be recognized as Lilynette, given her expression. On the far wall was a mirror, and Starrk approached carefully. His own coat was grey, as suspected, with a shaggy brown mane and his same face, albeit more horse-like. His eyes were ridiculously large, and he noticed nothing special about himself otherwise, other than being significantly bigger than Lilynette, which was normal for him. Overall, he seemed slender. He groaned again. “So, now what, Lilynette?” he asked, looking for a comfortable place to flop over.  “Take a nap, hope that this is just a dream and wake up in Hueco Mundo?”

“We don’t dream, stupid. This is all real.”

“Gah. Let’s head out. Maybe we can find a way back to our normal forms, or at least some information about what  happened to us.”

Lilynette blinked at Starrk, then started laughing. “Starrk, showing initiative! This place is crazy!” She got to her hooves, fidgeting. Her laughter ceased slowly and she looked somewhat uncomfortable. “This is really awkward, Starrk.” Lilynette frowned.

Starrk groaned again. “Come on, let’s go. The sooner this is done, the sooner we can get home and I can nap.”

Starrk approached the library door and opened it cautiously. Lilynette followed without incident, glancing around at the vibrant colors and distinctive lack of dead trees and large, white buildings. “Definitely not Hueco Mundo.” Lilynette quipped. Starrk noticed several ponies scattered throughout what he assumed was a town at sunset. He squinted at the now bright but still dimming sunlight, only for his vision to be obscured by a fast-moving body coming at him from almost directly in front and overhead, obscuring the sun that was low in the sky. He stepped to the right about two feet paused then stepped again another foot, and Rainbow Dash plowed into the ground at about eighty MPH, only to grind painfully to a stop at the hooves of Lilynette.

Lilynette looked down at the thing that landed in front of her. She prodded her with a hoof. “Hey, pigeon. Who’re you?”