A/N: I'm so going to Fan-girl hell for this one *Facepalm*
Warnings: VERY DARK CONTENT! Murder, character death, swearing, OOCness. You have been warned.
Disclaimer: Not my characters Kubo owns them all... *Attempts to sneak off with Juu, Shun and Kisuke and is stopped by lawyers brandishing sticks* Awwwww. *Pouts*
The Dark Side Of The Moon.
Vain little bitch.
That's all that runs through my mind as I watch the bastard swan about like he owns the place. Disgusting, noble child, he makes my skin literally crawl with his stoic indifference and that cold icy, lifeless stare.
Makes me want to cut those dead eyes out of his skull.
It's not as if he truly using them, wasting them like he wastes so many things.
He makes me sick.
He doesn't notice as I approach, I've been doing this too long to be caught even by someone of his supposed calibre. He doesn't flinch as he feels the knife slide across his throat severing the arteries and vocal chords. In fact the only flicker of emotion he shows is the slight widening of those dead eyes, showing signs of life for the first time but by this point far too late.
The blood drains quickly from the wound, pale skin usually so pristine quickly turning grey as the man dies slowly on the floor.
He doesn't plead.
He doesn't beg.
He just acts the way that is expected of him and dies, all alone.
It almost makes me laugh at how pitiful the sight is.
When I am sure he has breathed his last I step forward over the man's corpse and finish my work, knife moving quickly to remove the evidence of the man's shortfalls. Before I leave I pluck a token from within my clothing lay it in his clammy hands before calmly walking off into the dead of night, my own token from the man clutched tightly against my breast.
Hazel eyes flew open as a shuddering breath was dragged into strained lungs. There was a brief moment of silence before the air was forced back out in a vicious cough causing the slim body to judder violently. Still gasping for precious oxygen the pale man groped blindly for something to stop the burning in his throat and mentally thanking the gods when his hand landed on a glass of water that had been left at his bedside. He gulped down the liquid as though he were in a desert once again thanking the deities when the water stilled the small coughing fit that had hit him. Finally reaching a state of true wakefulness Ukitake Jūshirō blinked owlishly his brain still somewhat fuzzy with sleep.
Or unconsciousness, his brain helpfully supplied.
Frowning he wracked the last of his memories in the hopes of finding an answer to how he'd ended up in Ugendō. He remembered being in a Captain's meeting discussing the vast fallout from the war with Aizen and then leaving with Shunsui as the man had demanded that they go and get something to 'take the edge off the stress.' It was after this point things got a little hazy, he remembered going to the bar with his friend watching in amusement as the man consumed sake and flirted as if it was going out of fashion. He of course didn't dare touch a drop of alcohol lest he have Unohana baying for his blood after only just escaping the Fourth Divisions clutches. There was some idle chatter and he just about remembered excusing himself from the group having suddenly felt light headed then... nothing, Jūshirō couldn't remember a damned thing.
Running a hand through his dishevelled locks the Captain of the Thirteenth Division ground his teeth just about resisting the urge to beat seven shades of hell out of his pillow in frustration at his own apparent mental and physical weakness.
Here Ukitake was dragged from his thoughts by the tentative knocking on the barrier between his room and the outside world. Shaking the frustrations aside he affixed a smile to his face and calmly addressed his visitor.
"Come in..."
The panel slid back revealing one Kyōraku Shunsui a playful smirk on his lips but an oddly serious look in his eyes. He strode inside without any more invitation and promptly sat himself down beside his bedridden friend pulling his customary sakkat from his head and placing it beside him with care.
"I see you're finally awake Juu-kun."
The smile instantly fell from Jūshirō's lips and he pinned his friend with a piercing gaze.
"Finally? What the hell happened? Just how long was I out for Shunsui?"
The brunette scratched his cheek with an air of nonchalance that didn't fool his companion for a second. The man was decidedly on edge Ukitake had known his friend too long to not pick up on the signs that something was quite right.
"Two days and as for what happened... You collapsed outside the bar."
Jūshirō felt the red of embarrassment tinge his cheeks and dropped his gaze to the hands clasped in his lap.
"I'm sorry Shun..."
Kyōraku brushed off the apology with a wave of his hand before settling it on his friends shoulder, the warmth from the appendage a welcome reassurance to the sickly man.
"Don't apologize Juu... We've all been through a lot recently and like it or not it's going to effect us in some way. This was just your bodies way of saying 'I've had enough.' so don't worry about it.. It's probably the sanest breakdown we're likely to see over the coming weeks."
There was a slight chuckle in Shunsui's voice as he finished and Jūshirō couldn't help but smile a bit, the brunette always knew how to make him feel better. He was about to open his mouth and tease Shunsui back that when he broke down it was probably going to be the most colossally insane thing in the history of Soul-Society but was prevented by a commotion outside his room.
There was a quick knock before the Thirteenth Divisions two third seats crashed through, panting for breath. Jūshirō raised a dark brow in question while Kyōraku just shook his head in exasperation.
"I'm sorry Captain's... But I just received..."
"What!? I received it numbskull..."
The two seated men rolled their eyes at the antics and Jūshirō coughed lightly instantly halting their tirade. They both looked a little guilty and fell silent.
"The message if you please you two."
Kiyone stepped forward and stiffly bowed.
"A level one emergency meeting has been called by the Captain-Commander, all Captain's are to attend immediately."
Both Ukitake and Kyōraku looked baffled, a level one meeting? The last time one of those had been called was when Aizen had supposedly been murdered and it had plunged Soul-Society into chaos, that one had been called now didn't bode well.
The meeting room was eerily silent as the gathered Captains waited for the Captain-Commander to make an appearance. Jūshirō felt decidedly uneasy and beside him Shunsui was mirroring his feelings. The brunette had stuck closely to his side since the summons, still somewhat concerned over the state of his health but both of them knew that Yamamoto-Sensei wouldn't have demanded his presence unless it was important.
Finally the old man himself entered, a cloak of agitation and sadness shrouding him as he passed his subordinates. All eyes turned to their leader looking for the reason to their summoning and with a bang of his cane Yamamoto brought the meeting to order. The Captain's took their positions and it was at this point that Jūshirō noticed one of their already dwindling numbers was missing and he brought the point up.
"Um... Yamamoto-Sensei, wouldn't it be prudent to wait for Captain Kuchiki to arrive."
Wizened eyes looked infinitely sad.
"I'm afraid that is the reason I have gathered you all here, earlier this morning Captain Kuchiki was found murdered in his home."
The silence that fell upon the room was suffocating as each of the Captains tried to take in this startling revelation and deep in his heart Ukitake felt something break. After surviving so much death and destruction this was a cruel blow, far too cruel. Beside him he heard Zaraki 'tch' in distaste and shake his head and the white-haired captain felt his blood boil slightly.
How dare Kenpachi act so disrespectfully!
Ukitake became vaguely aware that the Captain-Commander was speaking again and pushed aside his anger to focus on his Sensei. He had missed the start of whatever the old man had been saying and judging by the slightly green looks on his peers faces he figured it was a good thing. It was as Yamamoto drew out an object from the folds of his robe that Jūshirō felt his previously heated blood run cold.
No...
Please God No...
Hazel eyes sought out his oldest companion across the room and the white-haired man immediately noticed the stiff set of Shunsui's shoulders, it appereared the brunette had been similarily effected by the unveiling of the small delicate trinket.
"Yama-Jii is that what I think it is?" Shunsui asked, his voice strained.
The old man nodded, eyes hard and sad and held out the object in a knarled hand. Sat in the middle of the aged palm was a single tiger-lily; the bright orange petals stained a ghastly shade of brown with blood. Jūshirō felt his stomach turn just looking at it, seeing the deeper meaning in the petals. Pride... he was killed because of his pride. Many of the younger captains looked confused but the older among the Gotei knew exactly what it was.
It was a calling card.
"Would someone please care to tell us just what the hell is going on?"
Soi-Fon's annoyed voice echoed across the chamber and Shunsui gave a deep sigh his face exceedingly grave.
"We have a killer in our midsts, one whom has killed before and is amazingly skilled."
Zaraki scoffed and folded his arms across his chest.
"Well sure, but what's the gotta do with a poxy flower?"
Jūshirō rubbed his temple a sudden pounding in his head making him feel nauseated but turned to his fellow captain with a despairing look on his face.
"Zaraki-san, that 'poxy flower' is the calling card of the most infamous serial killer the Seireitei has ever seen. They leave one behind on the body to represent what your sin is. Hence the name we call them, 'Syn'."
The eleventh division captain looked completely unfazed by this piece of information but other members of the congregation looked livid, in particular Soi-Fon.
"Why have we never been told of this!?"
Yamamoto glared briefly at his student and then looked at her sternly.
"Because we did not wish to taint you with such burdensome knowledge especially since the last time 'Syn' made their presence known was nearly 400 years ago, we believed the brute to be dead."
Jūshirō shuddered the memories of that time invading his mind. It had been a very dark period for Soul Society and in particular the Gotei, they had been overworked the great plague that had swept the living world vastly increasing the number of hollows in both the living world and their own. Harsh decisions had been made and lives had been lost to spare the rest, something Jūshirō had been immensely against at the time. He had seen the logic in the decisions but it had broken his heart and soul to commit what he saw as atrocities.
Then it seemed everything had gotten worse and Syn had appeared striking swiftly and decisively at those who he or she had believed had sinned. Some good men, others not so good, it had been chaos and the whole of the Gotei had been afraid of their own shadow for the longest time. And then as suddenly as Syn had appeared he or she had vanished back into the darkness from whence it came with their seven trophies.
Ukitake shuddered again feeling weak, his reiatsu flaring slightly at the horrible memories and the attention of the room turned to him eyes wide with worry.
"Ukitake-san?"
Jūshirō composed himself and smiled softly at Unohana, the owner of the inquiring voice.
"I am fine Sempai; I was momentarily overwhelmed that is all."
The fourth division's captain nodded but the worried look did not leave her eyes, nor did it leave the eyes of Shunsui who watched him from the other side of the room poised and ready to move if necessary. The white-haired man exchanged a look with his friend reassuring him that he was fine and turned back to the Captain-Commander.
"So Sir, what would you have us do?"
The old Shinigami sighed, hands tight around the top of his cane.
"I want you to catch him."
-End Part one-
A/N: Uh... Okay so this is a bit twisted... Blame Boris. -_-*