Well, well, if it isn't the great Captain Kuchiki.
Mayuri Kurotsuchi had been checking in on the injured members of his squad when he spied none other than the famous Byakuya Kuchiki sitting in a chair in an empty corridor in the health station. From where Kurotsuchi was, it appeared as though the legendary captain had actually dozed off.
A near impossibility, he granted with a smirk as he stepped closer towards Kuchiki. That would imply that the man was actually subject to the natural laws that affect the rest of us. Although I must admit that I would gladly pay any price to be able to catch him in the middle of a most embarrassing-
"Have you something to say, Captain Kurotsuchi?"
Kurotsuchi stopped at the sound of Kuchiki's voice. Though he had not been using his camouflage technique, he hadn't expected to be identified while Kuchiki's eyes were closed. As if in answer to this, Kuchiki opened his eyes and gazed dispassionately at his fellow captain. "As though anyone could rest soundly with your mischievous rietsu pervading the air."
A small smile touched Kurotsuchi's lips. "Mischievous? I wouldn't even think the word was in your vocabulary. Your verbal acumen continually astounds me, Kuchiki."
"You did not answer my question," Kuchiki said, ignoring the sarcasm dripping from the other captain's lips. "Have you something to say, or were you simply exercising your right to wander?"
"I wouldn't know what to say," Kurotsuchi replied, his tone unchanging. "What words could possibly express my shock at the concept of someone such as the renowned Captain Byakuya Kuchiki needing to 'rest soundly?' What exactly is it that you need rest from, eh? Don't tell me that orange-haired brat and his friends are actually causing you trouble."
"Don't insult me," was all Kuchiki said in response. He didn't need to say anything else. Kurotsuchi saw the other man's eyes briefly flit towards the door across from them before looking down. Curious, Kurotsuchi tilted his head as he concentrated. Though faint, he could pick up traces of Rukia Kuchiki's rietsu.
"Ah," he breathed after a moment. He suddenly remembered the rather grievous injuries Kuchiki's adoptive sister sustained earlier in the week, in the same brawl that put many of Kurotsuchi's own men in the healing hands of the fourth squad. "No change in her condition, I gather?"
When Kuchiki didn't answer, Kurotsuchi laughed before he could stop himself. "A sentimental fool, Kuchiki. That's what you are. Your icy manners and backhanded etiquette can't hide what you really are."
Kurotsuchi could sense the hot flare of anger that Kuchiki quickly stifled as he stood up. "The real fool here," Kuchiki told him, "is the one who would call me a fool to my face."
"I didn't know that you preferred such things to be said behind your back," Kurotsuchi threw at him as Kuchiki attempted to pass by him.
When the other captain made no reply, Kurotsuchi's expression hardened as his hand snaked out and grabbed hold of Kuchiki's arm. He knew that such an action would possibly result in the loss of that hand, but it wasn't as though he wouldn't be able to generate a new one in a matter of moments.
"Byakuya," he said lowly. "You can claim it's none of my business, but when do you intend on telling that girl who she really is? How much longer do you think you can keep pulling strings to see that she's shielded from all of the true dangers a shinigami must face? She can't always hide behind the name Kuchiki, you know. Sooner or later, she'll encounter someone for whom that name won't matter at all."
"Captain Kurotsuchi," Kuchiki replied after a moment. "It is none of your business. So I will thank you to reserve your lectures for those more willing to listen. After all…." At that, he finally looked up and stared into Kurotsuchi's eyes. "… when do you intend on taking off that mask?"
Surprised, Kurotsuchi dropped his hand away from Kuchiki. The latter man made no movement as he continued. "How much longer do you think you can keep pulling strings to keep yourself isolated, even going so far as to actually create your own lieutenant rather than appointing one? You cannot always hide behind the eccentricities of genius, you know."
"Shut up!" Kurotsuchi cried out harshly, not liking the calm way Kuchiki threw his own words right back at him. "What I choose to wear over my face is none of your concern! My antisocial tendencies only serve to increase the productivity of my superior intellect!"
As though Kurotsuchi hadn't said a single word, Kuchiki gazed at him quietly before finishing with, "Sooner or later, you will encounter someone for whom the masks you attempt to wear will not matter at all."
Kurotsuchi found that he was frozen in place as Kuchiki continued down the corridor. His eyes suddenly downcast, he murmured, "I thought I had, Byakuya. And it was that very encounter that made the mask necessary to begin with. Or have you forgotten?"
Silence filled the hallway, much in the same way the poison from Kurotsuchi's soul slayer infected the battlefield. Though he was not consciously trying, he could feel Kuchiki's rietsu getting further and further away. Just when he convinced himself that dwelling on the past would only prove that he was a sentimental fool as well, the other captain spoke.
"There is little that I forget, Mayuri." Kurotsuchi blinked, surprised to hear Kuchiki refer to him by his given name. "I did not ask that you wear a mask. If you could not stand to see your own scars, then that is your own doing. And any man who cannot bear to see proof that he has been injured is a man who refuses to acknowledge that he has ever lived."
His hand balled in a fist at his side, Kurotsuchi waited until he could swallow the emotion that blocked up his throat before whirling around to confront his detached comrade. He stopped in his tracks when he saw that he was alone in the corridor. If not for the traces of Kuchiki's rietsu, he would have thought that he had imagined the entire scenario.
Opening his fist, he felt a warm stream of blood trickle from his palm. The gall of that man, he thought, absently staring down at the crimson liquid on his hand as he trembled in a quiet rage. Walking away without giving someone the chance to make a proper retort. And he talks about me and my "lectures." Heh. Masks, indeed. I can show my face just as proudly as he can.
He hardly realized that his other hand had already gone to his face, as though in challenge. He paused, his fingertips brushing against his cheek. Could he? Could he really look in the mirror, even so long after…?
…any man who cannot bear to see proof that he has been injured is a man who refuses to acknowledge that he has ever lived.
An injury much deeper than a mere flesh wound. Scars more complex than the markings across his flesh. Masks that cover so much more than his face. And a life that was actually worth living.
Shame. Is that really what it was? Did Mayuri Kurotsuchi actually feel ashamed over something he had done in the past… and something he still felt so strongly in the present, despite its impossibility?
"Captain Kurotsuchi?"
Kurotsuchi straightened at the sound of Nemu's voice from behind him. "Is everything all right, Captain?" He looked to see his timid lieutenant standing at the end of the hall, observing him carefully. When he didn't answer, Nemu looked down and said, "Two members of our squadron have regained consciousness. They have a full report from the battle, and would like to know if you-"
"Later, Nemu," Kurotsuchi answered, turning away from her. "I'm going to go rest for a while."
"Sir?" Nemu inquired.
"I said later!" Kurotsuchi snapped.
As her captain walked away, Nemu quietly answered, "Yes sir."
A rest, Kurotsuchi told himself. A sound rest. And then I'll experiment a bit on those two conscious squad members. And I'll forget all about that damned Kuchiki and his damned sister and the damned past.
And maybe if I'm lucky, I can once again forget that I'm wearing a mask.
