It was the day that all self-respecting Soul Reaper captains dreaded openly; the day when rivals reconciled and became one against the draconian law that operated solely on that day every year and demanded that every squad's annual report be submitted to the Head Captain, or else – with particular emphasis on the "or else".

A miasma of foreboding hung over the Seireitei, robbing it of its usual liveliness. The lower-ranking Soul Reapers, however, oblivious of fact that their captains were practically facing the gallows, went about their business with their usual indifference. This time there was no one to tell them what to do.

All the captains, save for the Head Captain, and a few other dutiful ones who infallibly turned in their annual reports a week in advance, were literally running around the place in ill-concealed desperation, ordering their lieutenants to finish off whatever they could while they tried in vain to contrive believable excuses to present to the Head Captain when he looked at them through those penetrating old eyes of his, and collectively asked them the ominous question, "Do you think I should let you continue as captains?"

Captain Zaraki could be seen dashing toward the laboratory of Squad 12 in the hope that its genius captain could somehow extricate him from his predicament.

"Captain Kurotsuchi," he said with uncharacteristic deference. "I need your help!"

Captain Kurotsuchi, being the genius that he was, knew what had befallen the barbaric captain of Squad 11. He fixed Zaraki with a supercilious stare, regarding him from top to bottom, and concluded that he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. This was going to be interesting.

"I know what you want," he said with an air of omniscience. "But I refuse to help you."

A steely glint appeared in Zaraki's eyes. His hand hovered threateningly over the hilt of his Zanpakutō.

"Do as you please," said Kurotsuchi airily, tapping the armrest of his metallic computer chair with his long nail. "Just beware that if you unsheathe your Zanpakutō, you might just disturb the vat of sulfuric acid hanging overhead, or maybe even set off my laser guns, which not even you could evade, or, if you're unfortunate enough, both."

Zaraki couldn't tell what the monochromatic head of the Department of Research and Development was talking about, but he had a vague idea that it wasn't anything pleasant.

"You're one hell of a cheapskate, you know that?" said Zaraki, dropping all pretense of politeness. "Relying on your little mechanical toys and what-not just because you're too weak to fight me by yourself."

Mayuri scowled. He picked up a remote control.

"Maybe I'll just pour the acid over you right now and watch you dissolve into nothingness."

Zaraki laughed.

"You and your lies," he said pompously. "The moment I take off this eye patch of mine, this place is going to be blown to smithereens."

Mayuri sighed.

"I pity your lack of common sense," he said, picking up another remote control. "You seem to forget where that device of yours was made. By pressing this button I would intensify the absorptive powers of your eye patch and thereby thoroughly incapacitate you. You would be completely at my mercy, divested of any semblance of spiritual energy. After that I could kill you with a simple stab of a fork."

Zaraki may have been a sucker for battle, and even a little masochistic at times, but he knew where to draw the line.

He snorted in indignation and turned to leave.

"See ya around, bitch," he growled sarcastically.

Mayuri sighed and made to press the button on the remote control, and Zaraki left as quickly as he had come.

Mayuri replaced the device in the drawer, and reclined in his chair, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. Everything he had said to Zaraki had indeed been a lie. That man was so easy to fool that it surprised Mayuri that such few people had ever defeated him in battle.

Presently one of the Head Captain's agents arrived, clad in tight red clothes, a straw hat covering the greater portion of his face. These specialized agents, just for the record, also carried out the job of delivering important messages to captains and lieutenants every now and then. But not on this day. On this day they were just agents.

"Captain Mayuri Kurotsuchi of Squad Twelve," he said, kneeling. "You are hereby requested to turn in your squad's annual report."

Mayuri frowned.

"Nemu," he called, and shortly she arrived. "Give him our squad's annual report."

"I beg your pardon, Master Mayuri," said Nemu in her monotonous voice. "It has not been compiled yet."

"What!"

"It was you who had asked me to delay the task until the expedient time. I was awaiting further orders."

Mayuri was outraged.

"You fool!" he yelled. "How could you not make the annual report?"

Nemu bowed.

"I apologize for my mistake, sir," she said. "With your permission, I shall compile it forthwith."

"Do it then!" bellowed Mayuri, only this short of ripping out his hair in handfuls.

The Agent, meanwhile, permitted himself a smile of satisfaction, thoroughly enjoying the scene before him. He loved this day. He got to see some of the most powerful captains literally tremble in fear the moment they set eyes on him. It gave him an unnatural sense of power, and he enjoyed it.

"The Head Captain awaits, sir," he pressed to take his satisfaction to a new level.

"He can wait all he wants!" yelled Mayuri, throwing a vial containing some queer pink liquid at the offending entity. It fell sizably short of the Agent and exploded in a cloud of suffocating pink smoke.

"Curse everything!" Mayuri yelled as a smoldering piece of paper fell on him and reduced him into the regenerative Green Goo Form. "You haven't seen the last of me yet!"

With that, Mayuri retreated into the shadows of his laboratory.

The Agent was saved by a gas mask he had brought along, having sagaciously taken into consideration the contingency of being attacked.

Presently Nemu returned with a folder of documents.

"Here is the report, Master Mayuri. I have compiled it precisely according to the blueprint on the computer." She paused, having noticed that her captain was conspicuously missing. "Where did you go, Master Mayuri?"

"Lieutenant," said the Agent, drawing Nemu's attention to his otherwise underwhelming presence, "the report, please."

Nemu handed him the report before rushing away to find Master Mayuri.

In a different part of the Seireitei, Captain Kyoraku was being brutally manhandled by Nanao.

"You're so careless!" she yelled, hitting him left and right with a nice, fat encyclopedia that she was carrying.

"Nanao," protested Captain Kyoraku between blows, "get over it."

Nanao's eyes flashed.

"Get over it?" she repeated with deadly malevolence in her voice. "You're a captain of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads, and you're the one who's supposed to write your squad's report!"

"Yeah, but you volunteered," said Kyoraku, wincing as the book struck his nose.

"Volunteered! You're the one who dumped all the paper on my desk and left me to finish the report! And I did finish it. Only you had to go and pour your stupid drink all over it!"

"It was an accident," said Kyoraku truthfully, wondering how much longer he'd be able to endure this without cracking and doing something he'd later regret.

"Accident!" yelled Nanao, and to Kyoraku it seemed that her voice was so loud that the whole building was shaking.

It later transpired that it was Zaraki knocking on the door.

"Oh, hello, Captain Zaraki," said Kyoraku, a little disgruntled. Recent events had occasioned him a great deal of physical pain.

"Kyoraku. I just wanted to ask you…" He paused. "What happened to your eye?"

"Oh," laughed Kyoraku, hastening to cover his black eye as best he could with his hat. "Nothing. I… I tripped, and I fell… on… on an apple." He laughed airily.

"I see," said Zaraki dryly. "Well, anyway, I wanted to ask you a favor."

"Ask away," said Kyoraku hospitably.

Zaraki was encouraged.

"Ikkaku," he called, and presently the third seat officer arrived on Kyoraku's doorstep, depositing a large pile of paper on it. "I'll need these done in a couple of hours."

"What are they?"

"Reports. I haven't done them."

Nanao scowled.

"Does that sound familiar to you, Captain?"

"No, not at all. Sure, Captain Zaraki, you can leave those reports right here. Nanao will gladly do them for you."

"I appreciate it," said Zaraki with a nod. "I could repay you with a battle."

"No need for that," said Kyoraku, raising his hand in a gesture of peace.

Zaraki left.

Nanao was glaring pointedly at Kyoraku.

"So Nanao," said Kyoraku, oblivious of his impending doom. "Ready to get back to work?"

This time, when Nanao yelled, the building really did shake.

The Agent, when he arrived at the barracks of Squad 8 and made the mistake of announcing his presence, was sent back to the Head Captain with a black eye and a bleeding lip.

"Where are the reports?" asked Yamamoto austerely upon seeing his agent return empty-handed.

"Sir," said the Agent, fresh blood oozing out of the cut on his lip, "I was treated most unfairly by some of the senior officers."

Yamamoto raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?" he said. "That is a serious accusation for one of as low a position as yourself."

The Agent felt belittled.

"My apologies, sir," he said.

"Go on," ordered Yamamoto. "I want to hear what you have to say."

The Agent took a deep breath and began relating the various misfortunes that had befallen him in the course of the day. He spoke at length about how he had narrowly avoided being hit by Mayuri's deadly chemical, how he had later been bludgeoned by Nanao with her book, and how on the way back to Squad 1 he had happened most unfortunately to run into Zaraki, who in a fit of joy had punched him in the face.

Yamamoto nodded, his expression grim.

"Captain Kuchiki," he said, "are you writing all this down?"

Byakuya, who was standing next to him, said, "No. You haven't given me any such order."

The Head Captain was livid.

"Shouldn't you know better?"

A sense of the proprieties forced Byakuya remain silent and bear the animadversions like a martyr.

"Well then?" said the Yamamoto. "If you don't write any of this down, how are we going to produce the evidence in the next Captains' Meeting, when we bring these delinquents to justice?"

Byakuya could think of several ways, but he didn't say them aloud.

"What did I give you all that paper for? For my own amusement?"

This Byakuya could not let pass.

"What paper?" he asked. The Head Captain had given him nothing.

"Oh… um… that paper!" said Yamamoto, hurriedly placing several sheets before Byakuya. "Start from the beginning."

Byakuya did as he was told.

"Don't waste time on decorations," snapped Yamamoto. "Start writing."

Byakuya frowned. He had been hoping to use the finest form of calligraphy he knew.

"Now, where were we?" said the Head Captain, turning to the Agent. "Ah, yes. You were saying."

"Yes, Head Captain, sir," said the Agent, enjoying all the attention he was getting. "I have been treated very badly indeed, and as you can see, I am not in a position to carry out this task anymore."

"That is for me to decide," said the Head Captain. He nodded. "I have decided that you are not in a position to carry out this task anymore. You may go."

The Agent stood up.

"Thank you, sir," he said. "And could you please… uhm… inform me of what happens to the captains who—"

"Go!"

The Agent scuttled away.

The Head Captain grunted. He was perplexed.

"This is bad," he said. "If we fail to gather all the annual reports today, they will think we are becoming inefficient. They will grow indolent, and the intricate system of the Seireitei which I have spent years building will collapse entirely."

A moment of silence passed.

Then Soifon, who was standing on the other side of the Head Captain, spoke.

"Sir," she said in her business-like tone. "With your permission, I will personally see to it that all the reports are gathered by nightfall."

The Head Captain thought it a ludicrous suggestion.

"Don't be a fool," he said. "These are powerful captains who will not hesitate to flick you away like a mere bee."

Soifon frowned.

"Maybe if you allowed me—" began Byakuya but the Head Captain cut him off.

"You?" he said. "Captain Kuchiki, I think we can all agree that nobody in the Seireitei respects you. Hoping to have people listen to you is downright foolishness."

Byakuya frowned.

The Head Captain cleared his throat.

"I have a suggestion," he said. "And it's far better than either of yours. I have decided that both Captain Soifon and Captain Kuchiki will go. Together."

"Sir—"

"Sir—"

"Together, I say!" yelled Yamamoto, his face taking on a particularly nasty shade of purple.

Byakuya and Soifon knew it was time to leave.

Shortly afterwards, Lieutenant Sasakibe entered the room, carrying a cup of steaming tea on a tray.

"It is about time," grumbled Yamamoto as he sipped the brew with a relish. "I was beginning to feel slightly strange."

He took another sip and felt himself becoming calmer. He felt the drowsiness leave his tired head, and strength return to his muscles.

"You know," he said, "there were better options than sending Captain Kuchiki and Captain Soifon to finish the task, together no less. But…"

"But what, Head Captain?"

"I think it would be amusing to see how they get along with each other."

"Or don't."

"Or don't," agreed Yamamoto, nodding.


"Let me make this clear to you," said Soifon. "You get in my way, and I assassinate you. Got it?"

Byakuya frowned at Soifon.

"I wouldn't usually attack a woman," he said, "but you just might prove an exception."

"I'm glad," said Soifon with a sneer. "I wouldn't like it if you lost without putting up a fight."

"I wouldn't usually say this to a woman," said Byakuya, "but you would lose so badly that not even Yoruichi could save you."

Soifon clenched her teeth.

"Don't use her name so freely!" she yelled.

"Yoruichi," Byakuya said, pronouncing every syllable distinctly, "is a vile cat."

Soifon lurched at Byakuya, but he dodged her using a well-timed flash step.

"You surprise me," said Byakuya. "I would have expected the Head of the Stealth Force to be quite a bit faster than that."

Soifon flash-stepped and appeared behind Byakuya.

"You're unnaturally talkative today," she said, aiming a kick at his head.

Byakuya evaded her gracefully.

"And you're unnaturally clumsy."

Soifon's eyes were aglow with rage. She unsheathed her sword and struck at Byakuya.

Byakuya blocked her attack with his own sword.

"You lose yourself in your anger," he said calmly. "That is not a good sign for someone in your position."

Soifon roared and struck again, but Byakuya effortlessly blocked her, just as before.

"You're losing focus."

Soifon began to use all sorts of moves in an attempt to hit Byakuya. Her lightning-speed kicks always seemed to miss the mark, which was his face; her sword was always blocked by his.

And then a frightening thought struck her.

Is he really that much better than I am?

She desisted from attacking him.

"What's the matter?" said Byakuya.

Soifon didn't respond.

"You will do better than to attack me in the future," said Byakuya, sheathing his sword and proceeding in the direction of Squad 10. "And unless you wish to defy the Head Captain's orders, you will come with me."

Soifon followed silently.


Byakuya entered Captain Hitsugaya's office without knocking, which was uncharacteristic of him.

"What the—" said Hitsugaya. "Oh, it's you, Captain Kuchiki. You startled me. I spilled tea on myself. Oh, and Captain Soifon."

"Tea?" aksed Byakuya, raising his eyebrow.

"Yes, tea," said Hitsugaya. And then he bent down to sniff at his sleeve. "What! This is sake! Rangiku!"

The infinitely exuberant lieutenant burst into the office in a graceful pirouette.

"You have been drinking again," said Captain Hitsugaya in irritation, staring a rather disoriented Rangiku straight in the face.

"Sorry," she said, hiccoughing, her eyes unfocused.

"Worse yet," said Captain Hitsugaya, "you tried to make me drink sake!"

Rangiku giggled.

"It was Izuru's idea."

"Izuru?"

Rangiku nodded.

"He said if you're going to act like a grownup, you might as well drink like one." She giggled.

Hitsugaya clenched his fists.

"Get out of here this instant!"

"Well, okay," said Rangiku with a hint of irritation. "But don't come calling when you need me to finish your reports for you."

Hitsugaya's eyes widened and his lips curled in a silent "No!"

"You're the one who said if I finished all the reports I could drink sake for the rest of the day."

"Did you finish the reports?" asked Hitsugaya hopefully.

Rangiku shook her head, blushing like a child who has been caught doing something she shouldn't have been doing.

"I thought, just one bottle of sake should be fine," she said. "And then I thought maybe two bottles of sake wouldn't be too bad, and then…"

She went on in this manner until she had recalled all the twenty-seven bottles of sake she had drunk that morning, before collapsing on the sofa and starting to snore.

Hitsugaya coughed in embarrassment.

"Forgive me," he said, offering Byakuya and Soifon seats. "Now, what can I do for you?"

Byakuya side-glanced at the snoring lieutenant.

"It appears that you are not in a position to give us the reports that we have come to collect from you."

"You?"

"Yes," said Soifon without meeting Byakuya's gaze. "The Head Captain gave us the responsibility."

Hitsugaya was abashed.

"I'll… I'll finish it and give it to you right away."

Byakuya rose.

"I'm afraid I can't wait. You must take it to the Head Captain personally," he said.

"It'll only take a moment—"

"I have seen and heard enough," said Byakuya. "And in the way of gathering evidence, I must write it all down."

He took a couple of moments to write down another paragraph on the sheet Yamamoto had given him.

"Good day, Capatain Hitsugaya."

Then he and Soifon left, and Hitsugaya was left staring after them, feeling as if he had been hit by a storm.

He soon realized that it was a bottle of sake that had come hurtling through the air from the direction of his sleeping lieutenant.


"Unproductive," was all Byakuya could say.

Soifon, reconciling herself to her misfortune, decided that being angry was futile.

"Yes," she said in an uncharacteristic monotone.

"And I was under the impression that Captain Hitsugaya was one of the more responsible captains," Byakuya went on.

"Yes," said Soifon vapidly.

They didn't have to stop at the barracks of Squad 7 for more than a couple of moments.

"Here are the reports," said Komamura, thrusting a folder into Byakuya's hands with more force than he had intended to do.

Byakuya stumbled.

"Sorry," said Komamura. Then he said, "I commend you and Captain Soifon for carrying out the Head Captain's sacred orders so faithfully."

Byakuya felt mildly patronized, but let it pass. He had just had the wind knocked out of him and felt incapable of anything in the way of words.

"Where will you be going next?" asked Komamura affably.

"Squad Eleven," said Soifon, saving Byakuya the trouble of answering.

"Good luck," said Komamura with a nod.

It transpired that they really did need good luck.

"You two?" said Zaraki, almost shaking in mirth. "The old geezer sent you two?"

Neither Soifon nor Byakuya could see what was so funny about it.

Zaraki laughed heartily.

"Just give me a moment. I can't get over it! Hey, Yachiru, come over here for a moment!"

Yachiru arrived and took a seat on Zaraki's shoulder.

"What is it, Kenny?"

Zaraki told her what it was, and it didn't seem as if either of them would stop laughing for another hour.

Byakuya coughed.

"Captain Zaraki, you are not cooperating."

Zaraki continued to laugh.

"Very well," said Byakuya. "The Head Captain shall hear of this."

Zaraki and Yachiru stopped laughing the moment they left.

"Are they gone?" asked Yachiru.

"Yes," said Zaraki, peering cautiously out of the window.

"It was a good idea Whitey came up with, right?"

"Yeah," said Zaraki. "Especially since that bastard Kyoraku didn't keep his word about finishing the reports. I owe Ukitake a fight."


Ukitake was the only captain left.

"The reports," he said through a coughing fit, "are over there."

He pointed at the dressing table in the far corner of his cabin.

Soifon went to gather them.

"Not your medical reports," said Soifon, tossing them aside.

"No?"

"You annual squad report."

"Oh," said Ukitake. "Tell the Head Captain I was too ill to finish it." He coughed to prove his point. "I'm sure he'll understand."

"Fine," said Soifon.

"We have completed the task," said Byakuya as they made their way back from Ukitake's remotely located cabin. One of the boards on the bridge was loose. Byakuya tripped over it, and stumbled. He collided with Soifon.

This completely cured Soifon of her deleterious self-pitying, and she became her former fearsome self again.

"Why you!" she said, kicking Byakuya in the gut.

Byakuya recoiled.

Soifon suddenly became aware of what she had done.

"I did it!" she said, as cheerful as a young girl. "I actually hit you!"

Byakuya frowned deeply.

"That does not prove anything."

"Yes it does," said Soifon. "You're just a sore loser."

Byakuya stood up straight, wincing in the process.

"I can guarantee that you won't be able to come close to hitting me again."

"Oh, really," said Soifon with a grin.

She flash-stepped and appeared behind Byakuya.

Byakuya dodged her punch, and caught hold of her by the leg.

Soifon aimed a kick at Byakuya with her other foot.

Byakuya let go of Soifon and ducked.

Soifon tried attacking him from the air, but Byakuya moved away.

Byakuya made to unsheathe his sword, but Soifon blocked him with her hand.

"No swords," she said. "Hand-to-hand."

Byakuya smiled inwardly. What many people didn't know was that he was a natural at hand-to-hand. All the years he had spent playing tag with Yoruichi (as she called it) had made him an expert at hand-to-hand. You really needed it when she suddenly decided to turn around and attack you.

Soifon kicked.

Byakuya blocked.

Yes, Byakuya thought. This was exactly like those times. He was enjoying it.

They continued their little spar even after the sun had set and the moon had risen.

"H'm," said Yamamoto, who was watching from his balcony, unbeknownst to either of them. He nodded in satisfaction. It was exactly as he had expected.

"As for you gentlemen," he said, turning to the assembled captains in turn. "Captains Zaraki, Kyoraku, Hitsugaya, and Ukitake. What shall I do with you? Do you think I should let you continue as captains?"

Everyone shuffled nervously.

Ukitake coughed.

"Sensai," he said. "I thought you would understand… I was sick."

"So was I."

"So was I."

"So was I."

"No excuses, Jushiro," snapped Yamamoto. And then his tone suddenly became ominously kindlier. "But if all of you really were sick, then I think it best for Captain Unohana to fix you up."

Everyone gasped, and began going into incoherencies.

Captain Unohana stepped into the light. The silvery rays of the moon cast portentous shadows over her features.

"Good evening, gentlemen," she said, smiling widely. She had a first aid box in her hand. "Are you ready?"

Hitsugaya swallowed.

"What's that for?"

"You will need it," said Unohana. "Trust me."


A/N: Originally published in 2009.