Picking Up the Pieces

#1

Omaeda sighed and flicked a booger at the wall. "That human girl really is something," he mumbled, eyeing Soi Fon's left arm as she filled out yet another report on the war. That's what he was supposed to be doing too, but he was still in awe of how well that Inoue girl's restoration ability had worked on his taichou.

Said taichou shot him a scathing look before returning her attention to whatever she was writing. "Get back to your work."

"What? It's not like anyone in Fourth could've - "

"I forbid you to speak of it."

He sighed and propped his elbow against his desk, resting his cheek against his hand. His eyes traveled over the long, tedious form in front of him. All the blanks, unfilled. He let out another deeper sigh and twirled his pen between his chubby fingers.

How many reports did they need on the same fight, anyway? Did it matter? They won, so what use was there for the stupid little details?

He set down his pen and absently reached into his newly opened bag of rice crackers. For a few minutes there was nothing but the sound of him crunching away and Soi Fon's continuous scratching against her paper as she jotted down a concise, uncensored recount of exactly how the fight against the Segunda Espada and his fraccion had went down.

- at which point it was deemed necessary that Omaeda-fukutaichou cut off my left arm, in order to stop its progression -

Soi Fon frowned at the sentence, considering it for a moment, then furiously crossed it out. There had to be a better way to phrase it. She allowed her gaze to wander from the report to her fukutaichou. He was wrist-deep in his snacks, crumb-coated fingers clumsily fumbling for his pen. She continued on watching until her brain forced itself to turn to distractions, and suddenly she found herself thinking about Yoruichi, and wondering of her whereabouts. When would she see her again? Why didn't she visit Soul Society as often anymore? Had she said something to upset her, or -

"Taichou?"

Soi Fon broke from her fantasy interrogation and blinked back to reality, meeting her lieutenant's gaze. "What?"

He frowned and replied, through a mouthful of crackers, "You were staring."

She did her best to hide her disappointment in herself and instead crumpled up the form she'd spent the last half-hour slaving over. There was no way she was going to let Omaeda come off as a hero from all this. She had to figure out a different way to phrase that portion of the battle...

"It's nothing," she assured, tossing the ball of paper under her desk. She took a fresh form from the tall stack at her elbow and began to refill the empty blanks.

He blinked at her and popped another handful of crackers into his mouth. He wiped his hand off on his uniform and that's when movement from the other side of the room caught the corner of his eye. A jigokuchou fluttered in through the open window and made a lazy zigzag towards his superior's desk. It circled, then, after hovering a second or two, landed on the stack of forms.

"Looks like you've got a message, Taichou," Omaeda said through a mouthful of half-masticated mushy grain.

Soi Fon looked up.

Panting heavily, Hisagi summoned Kazeshini back into its sealed form and fell back onto the grass somewhere deep within Ninth Division's training grounds. He raised a hand to block the sun from searing his eyes and just laid there, catching his breath. He'd been practicing for what seemed like hours, though he knew it was probably only half that. He'd already finished his reports regarding the battle in Karakura-cho and there was no issue of the Seireitei Bulletin to attend to this month. It had been cancelled due to all of the commotion.

That, he corrected himself, rubbing a hand over his eyes, and in memory of the late Ichimaru-taichou.

In the week since the war against Aizen and his cronies, it had been officially concluded that Ichimaru Gin had indeed not been a traitor after all - that he had in fact been working in the best interest of Soul Society all along. Not everyone was convinced, of course, but Yamamoto himself had made the decision to give the late former taichou of Third Division a proper burial and ceremony. It had taken place the morning before, and turnout was low due to the vast array of injuries that members of the Gotei 13 had sustained. Hinamori, Ukitake, and Ikkaku, among others, were all in the care of Fourth Division at the moment. Matsumoto should've been too, but she'd been adamant to attend the memorial.

Hisagi had contemplated paying a visit to Tenth Division with his spare time that morning, but decided against it. Both Matsumoto and Hitsugaya already had enough going on with the trauma and losses they'd suffered. If either needed comfort, they always had each other. The last thing they needed was an intrusion...

"Dammit," he hissed through grit teeth, letting his hand fall limply at his side. His other hand was still closed loosely over Kazeshini's hilt. Practicing by yourself could only achieve so much. But he needed something, anything, to do. He needed something to do, or else he would start overthinking things. He'd already replayed his fight with Tousen over and over in his mind until it played on loop subconsciously without him instigating it. It felt like everything was reminding him of his former taichou.

It hadn't been this bad when Tousen had merely defected. Because then, Hisagi knew that he was alive, that there was a chance to confront him and convince him to come to his senses and return. But now that chance was gone. And just when it had seemed like Tousen was his old self again...

"Aizen..." he mumbled, with a scornful chuckle. I wonder how much satisfaction he got out of watching that.

"Hisagi-fukutaichou," a voice chirped from somewhere nearby, startling him. He raised his head to see an unseated member of his division standing further down the hill. She bowed as he sat up. "Pardon me for interrupting, but you've received a summons from Yamamoto-soutaichou."

"Absolutely not," Soi Fon replied, without missing a beat. "Ninth Division was tasked with securing the border before and they failed miserably. I see no point in involving them in the process of improving our defenses."

Hisagi was at a loss for words; he scrambled to think up something to counter that. "Soutaichou," he began, turning to Yamamoto, who sat before the both of them, hand resting sagely on his cane as usual, "if I can speak - "

"The reason the ryoka were able to enter the Seireitei in the first place is because of the security force's incompetence," said Soi Fon, her tone frosty. She cast a quick glance towards Hisagi. "There's no reason to repeat the same mistake twice. As taichou of my division and soushireikan of the Onmitsukidou, I have faith that my forces are more than capable of protecting the Seireitei and its inhabitants."

"Wait, wait." Hisagi stepped forward. "Excuse me, Taichou," he mumbled quickly, looking to Soi Fon briefly before turning to Yamamoto again. "The ryoka invasion wasn't the only thing going on then. We had turmoil within the Gotei 13 as well. It was a very confusing - "

"Of all the captains, I was one of the few that remained loyal to the Gotei 13 to the very end," Soi Fon countered. She crossed her arms. "While other captains faltered and second-guessed the orders they'd been handed, my men and I remained unwavering in our service."

Yamamoto tilted his head slightly towards her. "Are you saying you wish to take on the issue of the Seireitei's defense completely on your own?"

She gave an eager nod and uncrossed her arms. "I am, sir." She stood slightly in front of Hisagi. "I believe that the Ninth Division has enough to deal with as it is. Perhaps they can take over once they secure an official leader, but until then - "

Yamamoto thumped his cane against the floor and Soi Fon immediately stiffened - and shut up.

"I've heard enough," the elder said, sitting forward. "I thank you for your enthusiasm, Soi Fon-taichou, but I'm not going to take this responsibility away from its rightful division. If the invasion really was their fault, as you've said, then think of this as a chance for them to redeem themselves."

A wave of relief washed over Hisagi. He let out a long-held breath and bowed a bit. "Thank you, sir."

Yamamoto held his hand up. "I'm not finished." He looked from Hisagi to Soi Fon. "I want this to be a collaboration between Ninth Division and Second Division," he clarified. "Each have their strengths and weaknesses; I believe this could be a good opportunity for growth on both sides."

"But sir..." Soi Fon started, then abruptly stopped. Her gaze hardened, but she nodded, then looked away. "Yes, sir."

"Very good. I'll entrust the details to the both of you." He sat back, sighing a little. "You two are now dismissed. I have other business to attend to."

"Thank you, sir," the two chorused, bowing simultaneously. Soi Fon immediately turned on her heel and headed towards the exit, while Hisagi remained, still trying to let the situation sink in.

"Remember this, boy," Yamamoto spoke suddenly, causing the younger man's attention to snap to him once again. "You're acting taichou of the Ninth Division. You two are considered as equals on this task. Don't let her try to convince you otherwise."

Hisagi's mouth dropped open a little in disbelief and he quickly bowed again. "Yes, thank you sir."

"Now get back to work."

"Yes sir." Hisagi bowed yet again and then made his way out of the room.

Outside the broad double doors, the sun bore down onto the deck that led away from First Division's headquarters. The early afternoon's rays caught petite form of Soi Fon, who had already traveled some ways down.

"Hisagi-fukutaichou," she called to him, coming to a halt at the summit of the stairway. Her look was expectant as he caught up to her with an eager expression "We'll meet tomorrow to discuss our plan of action," she said, cocking her head to the side. Something glinted in her eyes; a mild arrogance. "I take it you'll have time?"

He gave a quick nod. "Yeah, of course."

"Good." She swiftly turned away and began to descend the steps.

"I look forward to working with you," Hisagi offered, his manners as a fukutaichou so deeply entrenched in him that he couldn't help but spew the mantra.

Soi Fon didn't bother to stop again. Her next words were as cold as ice. "Just don't get in my way."