Exile

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Kira smoothed the sheets out with a practiced hand, tucking in the corners as Isane had taught him, and moved to the next bed with another clean stack of square-folded sheets. Crisp from the laundry, sometimes they looked like folded paper, he thought, separating the pillowcase from the rest.

It had been seven months since he'd gotten the transfer notice; just a little bit longer than Captain Ichimaru had been captain of third division.

Renji had told him again and again that he should have fought the transfer, or at least should have asked Captain Aizen why he was being transferred. But that was just how Renji was—it was the reason he'd been sent to eleventh division, although Kira would never say that to him. No, all you could really do when you got the notice was clean out your room and go, because everyone knew what a transfer to fourth division meant.

Here, there were the shinigami who really had a talent for healing—soft-voiced, like Isane, or with healing zanpakuto. And then there were the others, the shinigami who had some small gift with kidou, who had been sent here after a length of time in another division. They were the ones who mostly did things like handing out cough medicine during the winter, sweeping the barracks, cleaning the sewers. Sooner or later, they all developed a muted way about them: a habit of fading into the background, a quiet methodical manner of folding bandages or making beds or doing whatever other duties were given to them.

There was a sense of relief about it. You had your chance in your division, third or fifth or sixth or whatever. If you couldn't prove yourself, if in the end you just didn't have what it took, if you failed, you got the notification one morning: transfer to fourth division. And there was no chance of a transfer back out, not for you; so, in the end, all you could do was accept it.

At least it was peaceful here. For those in the same situation but who had no talent at all with kidou, it was a transfer to eleventh, where you got pummeled by those who really wanted to be there until you started to believe their philosophy too.

But still, as much as Kira tried not to think about it, the question always lingered: what had he done wrong? What had it been about him that was so unacceptable that Captain Aizen couldn't get any other division to take him? He knew he was too timid, he knew his physical combat skills weren't on par with his skills in kido and hado, but Vice-Captain Ichimaru had always praised his work. He'd thought he was doing well.

When he'd left the academy, he'd had so many plans, and it seemed like they were going to come to fruition. He'd longed to be in fifth division, and fifth division took him. He'd dreamed of being a captain, and he'd worked until he reached shikai sooner than anyone else in his class. Now he wished he'd never learned to listen to his zanpakuto. These days Wabisuke's hook was in his heart; in the background of Kira's thoughts, Wabisuke's hoarse voice never stopped muttering about how Kira had to struggle to summon the healing kido, about how Kira was the last person to know how to be tender with someone who was frightened and in pain.

"Kira-kun?" Isane Kotetsu's fuzzy head peeked around the doorframe, braids swinging behind her. "There's a patient to see you—I'll show him in here?"

"Of course, Kotetsu-fukutaichou," he said. A patient to see him? That last broken arm he'd fixed, had he done it wrong?

Kira was just tucking in the sheet on the last bed when he heard the familiar voice behind him.

"Ah, it's so quiet in here . . . I feel like I oughta whisper."

Kira spun around. "Ichimaru-taichou!"

Since he'd left fifth division, he'd only seen his old vice-captain at a distance. It still seemed strange to see him with his white haori—his thin shoulders seemed so much broader under it. But he was here now, still so much the same: same fox-like expression, same silver hair partly in his eyes, the same air of being a mischievous teenager who had stolen an officer's uniform and was testing how much he could get away with before being found out.

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Kira-kun?" said Ichimaru with his ever-present smile. "I'm glad to see ya haven't forgotten me."

"Well," said Kira, caught off-guard, "of course I—of course I wouldn't forget . . . that." He felt his cheeks warm a little. Even if he forgot everything else in the world, he was sure he'd remember how Captain Ichimaru and Captain Aizen had appeared and saved his friends and him. It was the first time he'd really gotten perspective on how small he was against the chaos of the world, and the first time he'd understood how vast the difference was between the power of a captain or vice-captain and himself. Kira had been about to die, and Captain Ichimaru ended the crisis with ease, without even really seeming to try.

It was the same way Ichimaru-taichou handled everything, really. One swift retort, and everything in his path fell away.

Kira tried to gather his bearings. He never usually had a problem with stammering. "Are you . . . Kotetsu-fukutaichou said you were ill, Captain?" he asked.

"That's right," said Captain Ichimaru. "Got this terrible cough lately, ya see." His hand appeared from his sleeve to trail against the sheets of a freshly-made bed. "Ah, I've been feeling so poorly, I haven't even been able to get the paperwork done . . . not having a vice-captain at the moment and all." He finally sat down on the bed's edge and propped his chin on his hand. "Think ya can help, Kira-kun?"

"I'll do my best, Captain," said Kira, trying to remember his training. The last thing he wanted to do was mess up and make Captain Ichimaru's health even worse. "Have you experienced any fever?"

"Oh yes," said Ichimaru. "It was very annoying."

Kira frowned. "Any aches and pains?"

"Hmm," said Ichimaru. "Definitely. All over."

"Sore throat?"

"Yep."

"Dizziness?"

"That too."

"Insomnia?" said Kira, throwing out a symptom at random.

"Oh, all the time." Ichimaru had picked up one of the medical devices from the table by the bed and was turning it over in his hands. "What's this for?"

"Captain," said Kira. He meant to ask the man to put down the tool so that he didn't break it, but somehow the words got lost along the way with the realization that Ichimaru-taichou was just mocking him completely.

Ichimaru looked up, with the same inscrutable expression as always. "Hmm? What is it, Kira-kun?"

Kira took a deep breath.

When that transfer notice first arrived, for one brief moment Kira had secretly hoped that Vice-Captain Ichimaru was taking Kira with him to third division. It might have been the happiest moment of his life so far.

But that wasn't important now. So if Captain Ichimaru no longer respected him—if Captain Ichimaru had come here to lie about being sick and laugh at him, then Kira would let himself think about it later. But he wouldn't make things even worse by breaking down now.

"I'm sorry, Ichimaru-taichou," he said. "Nothing's the matter. I just want to try a simple kido checkup to make sure there's nothing I've missed, but it sounds as though you just have a bad cold, so I advise plenty of bed rest."

He lifted his hands to begin the kido—and a pair of bony hands wrapped around his wrists in a cold but firm grip.

"I was just teasin', Kira-kun," said Captain Ichimaru, smiling wider. "Don't worry about it."

He let his hands fall from Kira's wrists and added, "I really came 'cos I had something I wanted to give to ya." From the front of his haori, he drew out a small flat square, wrapped in fabric, and handed it to Kira.

Automatically, Kira took the square and, because Captain Ichimaru seemed to be waiting, unwrapped it. He was off-kilter again; what kind of present could Captain Ichimaru possibly have for him? Was it another joke?

It was a strip of white fabric and—

Varnished wood. A black number three, and underneath that the painted symbol of the third division.

It was the third division vice-captain's badge. The one thing he'd wished for more than anything else, back when he still allowed himself to wish.

Kira's hands were trembling so hard he thought he was going to drop it. "T-this is . . ." He couldn't get the rest of the words out.

"Do ya like it?" said Captain Ichimaru.

He swallowed, still staring at the thing. It felt so light. "Ichimaru-taichou, is this . . . really for me?"

Ichimaru stood up to face Kira, then hooked his finger underneath Kira's chin to draw Kira's head up. "You're not thrivin' here, Izuru," he said softly. "Don't ya want to come with me? I'll take care of ya." His finger tickled Kira's jaw as he withdrew it.

"O-of course I do, Captain," said Kira, his heart pounding.

"Well then," said Ichimaru lightly, and before Kira knew it he was on the other side of the room. "See ya tomorrow morning! And remember, I don't like that new fad of vice-captains not wearing their badge properly." He smiled. "But I know ya wouldn't do something like that."

With a last billow of white haori, he was gone.

Kira sat down on the bed slowly, still holding the badge and its white armband.

Isane came in a little while later to tell him that Captain Unohana had given him permission to leave his work and start moving out of his room and into the vacant vice-captain's quarters in the third division.

Kira made it out to the fourth division grounds before it really hit him.

To anyone else, the tears would have seemed irrational. But even holding the little piece of wood in his hands, he could hardly believe it. His fingers traced over the three, the symbolic marigold, the three again.

So this is what it's like, he thought, remembering how he'd seen Hinamori's smiling face on his errands around Seireitei. For the first time in what seemed like years, he could hear the sound of birds in the trees, the chatter in the street, feel the breeze with its promise of autumn leaving a chill on his skin. He closed his eyes, and still, it was overwhelming.

Captain Ichimaru believed in him, even if nobody else did.

He'd start again in the third division, and he'd do better this time. He'd be the best vice-captain the Gotei 13 had ever known. And he'd never forget how Captain Ichimaru had saved him again, this second time.

For once, Wabisuke was silent.

The gates to the fourth division were in front of him.

A/N: I hope you like this! I worked so hard but I find Ichimaru so hard to write. Please review if you can. Thanks for reading.

Now edited to make dialogue less sucky!