Welcome, Dear Readers, to Part II of The Peacock. Part II is about Yumichika's and Ikkaku's time as Shinigami. I put their arrival right after the events of Turn Back the Pendulum. In doing my research for continuity purposes, I discovered there are a lot of competing theories of when Kenpachi Zaraki joined the Gotei 13 and who were the seated officers in the other squads when he joined. I did the best I could to keep things straight, but there could be some errors. If that is the case, please be understanding.
I wanted to try to keep the chapters shorter, but unfortunately, this one just . . . got away from me! I love to write.
Enjoy!
Chapter 1 The New Officers
Blackbird sitting in a tree,
observing what's below.
Acorns falling to the ground.
He'll stay and watch them grow.
The Tide Rushes In
Ray Thomas
"Unnhhhh-aaiii!"
Ikkaku looked up just in time to see something fly across the room. It took him only a second to realize it was a comb.
Yumichika's comb.
A humored grin crossed his face, but he said nothing and tried to hide the misplaced satisfaction he was deriving from the situation.
He and Yumichika were in the latter's room in the officers' quarters of the Eleventh Squad. Almost three weeks had passed since they'd tricked and then fought their way into the squad, and now they held the third and fifth highest seats in the unit. As seated officers, they'd been assigned quarters in the officers' wing of the squad buildings. Each had his own room arranged around a beautifully appointed courtyard, complete with fish pond, stone benches and cultivated shade trees. The rooms were simple and elegant – oak wood paneling on the walls and ceilings, tatami floors, and the wall bordering the courtyard consisting of a series of shoji doors and screens.
While Ikkaku's room looked much the same as it did the day he moved in, Yumichika had quickly turned his room into a sanctuary of beauty, adorning the walls with screens painted by his own hand, depicting the images of peacocks, ferny glades, and gold cages; he designed and sewed his own luxurious linens of green, gold and silver for the enormous futon he had procured, surrounding it with sheers of pale maroon, highlighted again with veins of gold. Four lamps, each different in make and appearance, cast the room in any variation of bright or dim light, colored or white. At least a dozen mirrors, some small and wall-mounted, others full-size and standing, were spread about the room, offering its occupant constant access to his image. There was a rug of eastern motif in the center of the room, and dozens of cushions and pillows were thrown upon it as a sitting area. A brass coal burner stood in one corner of the room, and the smell of incense filled the air with a heady aroma even after the granules had burned out.
For someone who had not wanted to be a Shinigami, Yumichika had settled right in and made himself at home.
"This—this looks terrible! I refuse to go out again looking like this! It's humiliating!" Yumichika fumed. He was standing in front of one of the full-length mirrors, pulling his hair every which way – back, to one side then the other, up, down, gathered, loose.
"You look fine," Ikkaku replied, his manner so obviously tongue-in-cheek that it only served to further stoke Yumichika's frustration. As Yumichika shot him a warning glare, he added, "It's the back of your head – no one even notices."
"Of course, they notice!" Yumichika retorted. "Everyone notices me! And when they're staring, they can't help but see the big bare patch on the back of my head! No matter how I arrange my hair, I can't cover it!"
Ikkaku chuckled. "Maybe you'll start a new trend."
"Will you please shut up? This is serious, and you've been no help the past three weeks," Yumichika sniffed. "It's bad enough the gouge you put in my head is taking forever to heal, but I'm also stuck with this . . . freakish bare spot. Honestly, Ikkaku, this is all your fault."
Ikkaku stood up from where he'd been lounging among the pillows, polishing his sword. He left the weapon behind as he came to stand behind Yumichika and examined his hair with exaggerated interest. "I think it's a vast improvement. Your old look was so boring and—" He cut off abruptly as Yumichika elbowed him in the ribs.
"You are a heathen with no taste and no appreciation of beauty," Yumichika charged, smoothing over the unbalanced cut as best he could.
Ikkaku grinned. Reaching around in front of Yumichika, he took hold of his wrists and drew his arms behind him, away from their incessant primping and fussing. "Now, you know that's not true," he said in a challenging voice. "I might be a heathen, but I do appreciate beauty."
Yumichika met his eyes in the mirror. "You're not acting like it right now."
Ikkaku's grin deepened with a playful slyness. "That's because I'm not seeing anything beautiful right now—"
Yumichika jerked his arms forward in protest, but Ikkaku had been anticipating this and tightened his grip, holding Yumichika's hands fast behind his back. A brief scuffle ensued as Yumichika twisted like a snake, breaking loose after several seconds; and then, tripping up Ikkaku in his pursuit, he pounced on top of him and dug a knee into his chest.
And with this, Ikkaku was well pleased. More than pleased; he was thrilled. He could not explain it, but ever since they had joined the Gotei Thirteen, his relationship with Yumichika had been nothing short of splendid.
Yumichika had taken him completely by surprise in his easy adaptation to life as a Shinigami and as a member of Zaraki's squad. To be sure, Yumichika had not taken on the bellicose, gruff nature of his squad; but he was certainly taking the development of his fighting skills seriously. He seemed to relish the opportunity to try his hand and release his weapon. He felt so assured of victory that he welcomed the chance to dole out defeat. He'd not lost the refined mannerisms that had marked him as different from everyone else, but the timidity seemed to have gone up in smoke. The egotistical, self-loving admirer of beauty above all things had emerged in full force as a personality to contend with, and yet vestiges of the kind and gentle soul still peeked through from time to time.
In short, Yumichika was doing exactly what Ikkaku had told him he must do. He was turning into another person while still maintaining whatever vestiges of his previous self might be useful in his life as a Shinigami. As such, he was already developing into a warrior of considerable strength; but he also was growing more vain, increasingly snarky and biting, and more flippant than Ikkaku had ever known him to be.
What a combination! Ikkaku could not have asked for more. Now, as he lay on his back, Yumichika perched on top of him, purposefully grinding his bony knee into his chest, he wondered if he had ever been this happy before. The days of joy in Venla seemed like a pale comparison.
"You know, I could throw you off just like that," he pointed out.
Yumichika was not impressed. "And I could seduce you just like that. Right here. Right now. All I'd have to do is let a little of my reiatsu fly, and you'd be done for."
Ikkaku eyed him with a provocatively challenging glint. "What's stopping you?"
"Do you want me to bring the whole place running?" Yumichika asked.
"So, what good is your power if you can't limit its use to just one person?" Ikkaku went on. "I mean, after all, if I'm the one you want to seduce, what good is it if you run the risk of seducing everyone when you only want me?"
"I guess I'll just have to be careful," Yumichika replied, his voice ironically careless.
Ikkaku's grin widened. In the next instant, he had dislodged Yumichika, thrown him to the floor and was now the one in charge, sitting across Yumichika's waist and pinning his hands down. He leaned down and said in a near-whisper, "You see, I know all your weaknesses. That's why you'll never be able to defeat me."
"You idiot," Yumichika scoffed. "You know I was only exaggerating about bringing the whole place running."
"Huh?"
"You know I'm better able to control my reiatsu now. If I release a modest amount, others will feel it," Yumichika explained. "But if I release only the smallest hint, it won't go much further than . . . you." With the last word, he let his spirit energy seep into the space between them. "I'll teach you not to tease me."
Ikkaku readily imbibed the seductive draught. "You act as if this is a punishment." He ran his hand down Yumichika's arms and pressed against him.
Yumichika smiled to himself, indulging the feel of Ikkaku's body close to his. He, too, had noticed the change in their relationship, although he was not sure it was all for the better. True, Ikkaku's spirits had been running exceptionally high since the moment he'd laid eyes on Zaraki three weeks ago. Getting into the squad and attaining third seat right away had played into that elation, and the prospect of serving under the man seemed to be Ikkaku's driving motivation. Even the mere proximity of Zaraki had been enough to bolster Ikkaku's mood and prompt him to resume his attentions to Yumichika without a sense of obligation or bitterness.
And yet, Yumichika knew something was missing. Ikkaku's attentiveness was not due to anything Yumichika had done; it was not due to Ikkaku's own fondness for Yumichika. It was the result of an accommodation, and one that Yumichika was not fully reconciled to.
Like a cheating spouse, Ikkaku had found a release – someone other than Yumichika to provide him his fix. The availability of that release, of that other person—namely, Zaraki—had enabled Ikkaku to look once again upon Yumichika with equanimity. Ikkaku had found what he was looking for outside their friendship, and that outside influence was the only thing sustaining their friendship at the moment. Yumichika knew that if Zaraki were to vanish from Ikkaku's life, Ikkaku's kind indulgence towards himself would also vanish.
But in truth, Yumichika was only partly correct in his assessment. It was true that Zaraki had provided something in Ikkaku's life – perhaps the sense of purpose and meaning of which Ikkaku had spoken, or perhaps something even Ikkaku himself did not recognize. But the real moment of change, the genuine shift in perspective had taken place in Ikkaku's mind and heart when he'd watched Yumichika fight for a place in Zaraki's squad.
Ikkaku had known full well that Yumichika had no desire to be any part of the Gotei Thirteen, and probably least of all, part of Squad Eleven. And yet, he'd set everything aside, brought forth his skill and physical ability, left behind the mantle of seductive prowess, and defeated his opponent handily, sword against sword, for the sole purpose of staying with Ikkaku. Then he'd almost defeated Ikkaku, would have beaten him, should have beaten him . . . and held back at the last moment, knowing that his own defeat would have meant being separated from Ikkaku. He'd not been willing to subject Ikkaku to the humiliation of defeat. He'd known that a loss for Ikkaku would have meant the end of Ikkaku's chance to serve with Zaraki, and he'd decided that he would rather lose Ikkaku than see Ikkaku lose Zaraki.
It was something Ikkaku would not have expected from Yumichika, but something he felt he should have expected. Yumichika was a good man. Too good, Ikkaku had concluded, and so he was happy to see Yumichika starting down a new road that included a bit less gentility and a bit more fortitude, a bit less seduction and a bit more physicality.
Of course, at the moment, the tiny bit of seductive power he was exerting was pleasing enough to remind Ikkaku that seduction should not be fully eliminated from Yumichika's arsenal.
"It's not meant as a punishment," Yumichika whispered. "It's meant as a reminder."
"Oh?" Ikkaku queried, anticipating perhaps a small token of Yumichika's affection.
Yumichika knew he had him. "That I'm stronger than you."
Hearing these words, Ikkaku bellowed with affected outrage and got to his feet, pulling Yumichika up with him. "Stronger? You really think you're stronger than me? We'll see about that." He pulled Yumichika out into the courtyard, crossing over the pond on the small wooden bridge that spanned from one side to the other at the narrowest point. He crossed through an opening in the west-facing wall of the officers' quarters, entering the squad administrative area. Here, he headed for the quartermaster's wing on the south side of the adjoining courtyard.
"Where are we going?!" Yumichika demanded through barely contained laughter, drawing all manner of attention from curious onlookers. It was only shortly into evening, and many squad members were milling about on their way to or from different activities.
"You'll find out soon enough!" Ikkaku replied.
The truth of his words was proven within a few seconds as Yumichika caught sight of the squad barber's sign. It was enough to set him resisting in earnest.
"No! Ikkaku, no! Please, not—not a barber! A military barber! Ikkaku, no!"
"You're so worried about your hair, and then—then you insult me by saying you're stronger than me! So, we're going to put two birds to rest with one stone!" Ikkaku dragged him inside and called out for the barber. He needn't have bothered. The barber, a man named Sakura, had heard the commotion clear across the courtyard and had come from the backroom to see what the ruckus was.
"Ah, it's our new Third Seat! Madarame-san!" He was smiling broadly, his pudgy face beaming with pleasure as the crowd of onlookers grew outside the shop. "And the new Fifth Seat! Ayasegawa-san, you don't look very happy to be here."
"He's here for a haircut—" Ikkaku began.
"No, I'm not!" Yumichika protested shrilly. "I'm—I'm here against my will!"
Ikkaku wrapped his arms around him, pinning them to his sides. "He's been driving me nuts over the way they cut his hair away, and I—"
"You want him to try sporting your shaved head look?" Sakura said hopefully.
Ikkaku considered. "That's not a bad idea . . . "
"Ikkaku!" Yumichika cried. "I swear—I swear—if you don't let me go, I'll do it! I'll let loose on everyone here and—"
"You're so full of it," Ikkaku grinned, then nodding to several squad members who were at the forefront of the crowd, standing in the doorway, he motioned them inside. "He needs to sit still or else he's going to get knicked." He forced Yumichika into the chair, and three of the men joined him in holding Yumichika in place.
"Let go of me!" Yumichika was still laughing at the absurdity of the situation, but his reluctance was real. "If you let them shave my head, I'll—"
He was cut off by the sound of a high voice, a child's voice, bubbling with excitement. "Yayyy! Weirdo's getting a haircut! Let me! Let me!"
Lieutenant Kusajishi.
Before anyone could blink an eye, she had drawn her sword, scattering everyone except the occupant of the barber's chair.
In the mirror, Yumichika saw the glint of a blade angling towards his head. He closed his eyes and cringed. There was a moment when it felt like a cool breeze against his neck, then . . .
He opened his eyes onto his image in the mirror. His head was still attached to his neck. Only now, his hair ended abruptly just below his ears. The beautiful long tresses were gone. A glance at the floor showed them lying forlorn and black against the whitewashed tile.
"Now it won't take so long for the back to grow out!" The lieutenant proclaimed. "You only need a few centimeters!"
Ikkaku could feel the rage bubbling. He could see it as Yumichika's fingers slowly curled into fists and his jaw clenched tighter. The red began rising in Yumichika's cheeks.
"It's gorgeous, lieutenant," Ikkaku blurted out, quickly taking Yumichika by the arm and pulling him out of the chair.
Yumichika was struggling to say something, but prudence was competing with outrage, so no words were forthcoming.
Ikkaku sped him back to the officers' quarters as quickly as possible, noting the surprised stares of the fellow Shinigami as they passed. Once back in Yumichika's room, he placed him immediately in front of a mirror and attempted damage control.
"Look, look! You're beautiful!" he insisted. "You—it looks perfect on you!"
Yumichika could barely bring himself to raise his eyes to his reflection.
"Yumichika, look . . . I'm serious. Look at yourself. You . . . " Ikkaku realized he wasn't just speaking to comfort Yumichika. He was speaking because it was true. His voice grew softer. "You really are beautiful. It suits you." He raised Yumichika's head and turned his gaze towards the mirror. "See?"
Yumichika looked at himself. For several seconds, he could not see it. He found nothing attractive in his image. But then slowly, as his eye grew used to the new dimensions, he discovered that he was not so horrified by what he was seeing. In fact . . . there was something pleasant there.
"I guess . . . it's not so bad," he said at last, although his voice lacked enthusiasm.
"You see. I told you," Ikkaku smiled.
"Don't get carried away," Yumichika pouted. "It's acceptable, but it's not as beautiful as before."
"I think it's a better look for you as a Shinigami," Ikkaku stated, taking an appraising step back and looking at him with scrutiny. "Yes, it definitely carries more authority."
"Oh brother, you are really pouring it on thick," Yumichika grimaced.
Ikkaku cocked his head to one side. "So? It may be thick, but it's true." He sat down among the pillows. " But, uh, I am curious."
"About what?" Yumichika asked, running his fingers through his hair and getting used to the new feel.
"Why didn't Fuji Kujaku heal you? I mean, he could have healed you completely and probably made your hair grow back by now. I know you said he was mad at you, but what did you do to piss him off that badly?" Ikkaku asked. "It's been three weeks."
Yumichika tried to appear disinterested. "Oh, he's just very moody. He'll get over it eventually."
"But what happened? Why did he get mad in the first place?" Ikkaku persisted.
Yumichika frowned. He couldn't answer that question truthfully. He wasn't even sure of the answer any more.
"He wants complete freedom, and as a zanpakuto, he can't have it. I can't let him run amok," he replied.
"You make him sound like he's a wild animal," Ikkaku said with a grin.
But Yumichika found no humor in the observation. His thoughts returned to the image of Ruri'iro Kujaku in the cage, driven to panic by his captivity. Wild animal was not so far removed from the truth.
When Yumichika did not respond, Ikkaku asked, "What's he like?"
Yumichika shrugged. "I told you . . . he's moody and unpredictable."
"Okay, but that can't be all. I mean, you said he taught you how to fight, so he's got to be pretty skilled," Ikkaku pressed.
Yumichika nodded. "He's the best fighter I've ever seen. Even better than you, Ikkaku." He paused, expecting Ikkaku to protest, but he didn't. "He's very beautiful."
"More beautiful than you?" Ikkaku challenged.
Yumichika's emotions churned inside him. Speaking of Ruri'iro Kujaku only made him want to see the reikon even more; yet he knew Ruri'iro Kujaku did not want to see him. And he couldn't blame him. Things had gone very wrong.
"Yes," he whispered at last. "Much more beautiful than me."
"Much more? I find that hard to believe. Maybe a little more beautiful, but a lot? No way," Ikkaku teased, immediately sensing Yumichika's turmoil and hoping to lighten his mood.
"He's . . . you wouldn't believe it," Yumichika replied. "You have to see him to believe how beautiful he is. It's like . . . looking at the sun."
Ikkaku was still smiling. "I know the feeling."
Yumichika actually blushed, and before he knew it, he said, "I miss him."
"Miss him?"
"He has his own world inside me . . . " Yumichika hesitated, realizing how strange that sounded. "And I can go there to see him. But I haven't seen him for weeks. He won't come to me." He turned back to his image in the mirror.
Ikkaku found this explanation confusing, but that was not important at the moment. He could see Yumichika was upset, and he did not want that. He had seen enough sadness on Yumichika. He now wanted to see a return of happiness.
"Yumichika," he said, and when Yumichika turned, he motioned with his head. "Come sit down."
Yumichika did so. Ikkaku reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "You know, if he's moody, he got it from you."
"I guess so," Yumichika admitted, then he craned his head around and looked at Ikkaku with questioning eyes. "Am I that difficult to deal with?"
"Well, I don't know what Fuji Kujaku is like, so I can't give you a comparison, but I can tell you that . . . yes, you can be handful."
Yumichika managed a cheeky grin and parroted Ikkaku's earlier statement. "I know the feeling."
"Hey!"
"Sometimes I don't know who's more difficult: you or Fuji Kujaku," Yumichika quipped.
"Well, I'll do my best to gain that honor," Ikkaku said, then for a shame-faced moment, "I think I've caused you enough grief over the years that the title should be mine anyways." He paused. "Besides, you shouldn't be mad at your zanpakuto. I'll tell you what – if I had that kind of power, I'd make sure I was on good terms with him."
Yumichika did not miss the irony in Ikkaku's statement. If, in fact, it was true that Ikkaku had a zanpakuto, Yumichika wondered what kind of relationship Ikkaku would have with his weapon.
"It's not that easy," Yumichika replied. "We've always had a sort of . . . up and down relationship. I'm supposed to be his master, but he's so powerful that . . . " He stopped talking, wondering if he were saying too much. He resumed along a different path. "He's been very jealous of you since the beginning."
"Jealous of me?" Ikkaku was surprised. "Why?"
"It's like I told you. He's very possessive, and he doesn't like anyone or anything that takes my attention away from him," Yumichika answered.
"Well, to be honest, Yumichika, I've been jealous of him, too."
Yumichika raised an eyebrow. "But—but it's not like I asked for a zanpakuto. And you know, you could have one of your own if you'd—"
"I didn't say I was jealous of you for having a zanpakuto – though I am. I said I was jealous of Fuji Kujaku," Ikkaku corrected.
"But you've never even met him. How can you be jealous?"
Ikkaku did not like to speak of anything that hinted at his own weakness and insecurity. But in this case, he would do it.
"You have a relationship with him that I can't see or hear. I don't know what goes on between the two of you. I only know what you've told me about him and the little bit I've seen of you using him." He drew his hands together and leaned forward to rest his arms on his knees. "What that all boils down to is the fact that Fuji Kujaku is stronger than I am. He's the one who's healed you and saved your life when I could do nothing." He gathered his resolve to admit to feelings he did not want to acknowledge. "When we were in the flume, after you insisted that I go back after him . . . that was when . . . I hated him right then. I guess I've kind of hated him ever since. I realized that you would have risked your own life going back to get him, and I couldn't believe I was risking my life for him. I just wanted him to go away at that point. I was angry that you were willing to risk your own life and mine for him. And I was jealous that you were putting someone else—something else—ahead of me."
Yumichika was flabbergasted. "But you didn't even want me around."
"I was acting stupid—"
"So, maybe being jealous of Fuji Kujaku made you realize you did want me with you."
"Maybe," Ikkaku conceded. "The point is that Fuji Kujaku was turning out to be better than me in every situation. Every situation. I know you could have beaten me when we fought to get into the squad. The victory was there in your hand, and you let it get away."
"I didn't do it on purpose," Yumichika replied. "There was just some part of me that couldn't bear the thought of what it would mean for you not to get into Zaraki's squad. If I had won, you'd have been kicked out – or at least, that's what I believed at the time. I guess he really intended to let us both in all along."
"That's probably true, but what I'm telling you is that you and Fuji Kujaku would have defeated me," Ikkaku persisted. "How could I not be jealous of such a power?"
"Zaraki defeated you, and you're not jealous of him," Yumichika pointed out.
"That's totally different," Ikkaku said dismissively.
"How's it different?"
"Because he's supposed to be stronger than me," Ikkaku said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, but then realizing what a ridiculous explanation it really was.
"So, I'm supposed to be weaker than you? Me and my zanpakuto are supposed to be your inferiors?" Yumichika bristled.
"Without your zanpakuto, you are weaker than me, Yumichika. Let's not pretend," Ikkaku replied. "Fuji Kujaku is the one who tips the scales. And look, let's not argue. It's bad enough I had to admit being jealous of a zanpakuto. Can't we just leave it at that?"
Yumichika considered. It really was not worth getting excited about. "Sure," he agreed, then added, "You know, you wouldn't have to be jealous if you'd work on awakening your own zanpakuto."
Ikkaku thought about the voice inside his head. He recalled the day beside the watering hole as he'd waited for Yumichika to return from his search for Zaraki. The voice had said it was a zanpakuto. Ikkaku's zanpakuto.
Ikkaku hadn't believed it then. He didn't believe it now. The weapon he'd been carrying with him all these years was no more alive than any other combination of wood and steel.
The conversation he'd had that day had been a figment of his imagination, the result of his own increasing jealousy over Yumichika's possession of a zanpakuto.
"This isn't a zanpakuto. It's just a sword," he said flatly. "I don't need a zanpakuto. I rely on my own strength."
"Every Shinigami has to have a zanpakuto," Yumichika reminded him. "If that isn't one, Zaraki will eventually make you get one. Besides, how do you know that's not a zanpakuto? Have you even tried to communicate with it?"
Ikkaku did not like the sound of this conversation. "I don't have time for stupid shit like that."
"It's not stupid—"
"Okay, it's not stupid, but it's not anything I want to talk about, Yumichika," Ikkaku said in a stern voice. "So, let's drop it."
Yumichika nodded. "Okay." He knew a bail when he saw it. Ikkaku was diverting attention away from a topic that pained him. It seemed clear to Yumichika that Ikkaku desperately wanted a zanpakuto but, true to character, was unwilling to admit it. Yumichika decided to join him in the diversion.
"I'm starving," he said. "We should go get something to eat."
"You want to go to the mess hall?"
Yumichika wrinkled his nose at the idea of cafeteria-style dining. "No, thanks."
Ikkaku had known this would be the answer. He was well aware that Yumichika hated eating in the mess hall. Eleventh Squad shared a dining facility with Squads Twelve and Thirteen; and while it was mostly the lower ranks who ate there, it was open to officers, as well. The food was fair, certainly nothing compared to Yumichika's cooking. But that was not why Yumichika didn't like the mess hall. The place tended to be crowded, loud, and when filled with Zaraki's squad members, vulgar and crude. At least once a week, some confrontation or other flared up, degenerating into a food fight of brigade-level proportions. Yumichika hated it. He felt like he were in a zoo where the animals were permitted to run loose.
Ikkaku, on the other hand, loved it. The complete lack of propriety felt like a comfortable old coat. The lower ranks did not have to maintain the façade of responsibility and serious-mindedness that the officers were expected to portray - although, such facades were not to be found in Squad Eleven, even among the officers.
And Ikkaku learned right away that Squad Twelve was even more off-the-chart than Zaraki's men.
Squad Twelve was home to the Research and Technology Department. They were a bizarre collection of misfits who claimed an affinity for science. Ikkaku believed, however, that they were more interested in finding legitimacy in their desire to conduct questionable experiments than they were in uncovering any scientific wonders.
Their captain was a man named Mayuri Kurotsuchi, and he was as close to diabolical as anything Ikkaku had ever seen. Without even knowing much about the man, Ikkaku had already decided that there was something intensely disturbing about him. It was as if he were continually sizing up everyone he met in terms of their usefulness as test subjects, and he had no regrets about it. He was only newly appointed as captain, and Ikkaku had heard some rumors that he had spent time in The Maggots' Nest – a detention area reserved for only those considered to be dangers to Soul Society. How he ever became a captain was something Ikkaku preferred not to contemplate. There was a lot of talk in the Gotei Thirteen about strange experiments involving hollowfication and the banishment of the former head of Squad Twelve to the world of the living, resulting in Kurotsuchi's ascension to the captaincy.
But the main topic of discussion among the squads centered around the disappearance of a number of seated officers from different squads, several of them captains and lieutenants. It was a mystery that merited much conjecture, the consensus seeming to be that wherever the former Squad Twelve captain was, so were they.
Still, it seemed inconceivable that the previous captain could have been worse than Mayuri Kurotsuchi.
Yumichika detested him. His hatred stemmed from only his fourth day as a Shinigami. He and Ikkaku had been sent to the quartermaster and then the tailor to be fit with proper Shinigami uniforms (although Yumichika honestly believed the ones he had made were more fashionable). On the way to the tailor and thinking that there was no one else around, Yumichika had, in a moment of vanity, released a small amount of his seductive ability in an attempt to make himself feel more attractive, given the state of his hair and the ugly gouge in the back of his head. The release had been intended only for Ikkaku, who had reacted with warmth but nothing more, and that had been all Yumichika was going for.
Then a man of strange appearance materialized as if from thin air.
"My, my, that's an interesting ability you have," he noted, his voice as whimsical as his looks. His skin was colored chalky white with black around the eyes, giving his face a skull-like appearance. He wore an oblong hat of stiff green and gold material that rose like a knot on the top of his head. He had no discernible hair and where his ears would be, instead, corkscrew like cones protruded. He wore a captain's haori, and it was only this sign of rank that prevented both Ikkaku and Yumichika from ignoring the man.
"Ability?" Yumichika was so cool, Ikkaku could not help but be impressed.
"Ta-ta-ta . . . don't play games," the unidentified captain chastised. "I'm highly attuned to all kinds of spiritual pressure, but I have to say I've never known anyone to have that particular power."
"Honestly, I don't know what you're talking about," Yumichika deferred.
"Do you not see what I'm wearing? Do you not see that I'm a captain?" The man asked. "I'm Captain Mayuri Kurotsuchi, Captain of the Twelfth Squad and Head of the Department of Research and Technology. I can't be fooled by the lies of a simpleton." He leaned close and stared at Yumichika with eyes the color of gold. "What squad are you?"
Ikkaku, sensing Yumichika was on the verge of a narcissistic outburst, intervened. "We both just joined Eleventh Squad a few days ago."
"Eleventh Squad? Zaraki's men?" Kurotsuchi made a sound of disgust. "How grotesque. But maybe I should ask him if I can borrow you for a few weeks to conduct some experiments." This last statement was directed solely at Yumichika.
"I'm not going to be in any experiment for you," Yumichika replied bluntly. "And I don't know what you think you felt, but—"
"Now, now, you'd better address me with more respect than that," the captain warned, wagging a finger in Yumichika's face. "Because if you ever end up in my hands, you'll want to make sure you're on my good side."
"Captain Kur—Kuro . . . " Ikkaku began, stumbling over the name.
"Kurotsuchi."
"Captain Kurotsuchi, I think this is an issue that you'd better take up with Captain Zaraki," he said, deftly sliding his shoulder into the space between Yumichika and the captain of Twelfth Squad.
Kurotsuchi shrugged in what seemed almost too careless a manner, considering his seriousness only seconds earlier. "Eh, it's not necessary. If it's something I feel like pursuing, I'll get what I want, with or without Zaraki's cooperation." He smiled, and with his painted features, the expression was sinister. "With or without your cooperation."
And then he'd disappeared as abruptly as he'd shown up.
Ikkaku had found the encounter disturbing, yet strangely amusing. Captain Kurotsuchi was a character among characters, a little frightening but highly entertaining. A challenge. Looking at Yumichika, though, he could tell he did not share the same opinion.
"What a horrible man," Yumichika said with a distasteful glare. "And completely lacking in beauty."
That had been his opinion then, and it had remained his opinion. In fact, Kurotsuchi's demeanor had so affronted Yumichika that he'd almost immediately developed the same sour opinion of all the members of Squad Twelve.
So, it was not unexpected that anyplace where the blood-thirsty dregs of Eleventh Squad came together with the squirrely sadists of the Twelfth Squad, chaos and an altogether unsettling atmosphere resulted.
Yumichika wanted no part of it, and Ikkaku was inclined to acquiesce to him on the matter. Being with just the members of Eleventh Squad was sufficient for Ikkaku, and Yumichika seemed to handle that well enough. No sense in pushing things too far, especially as they'd only been Shinigami for just shy of three weeks.
Of course, the third component in the equation was Thirteenth Squad – an altogether different animal from either Eleventh or Twelfth Squad. And perhaps the only reason complete anarchy did not ensue in the common areas shared by the three squads.
Ikkaku and Yumichika had not yet had the chance to meet the squad's captain. He was said to be sickly, yet insanely powerful. In his stead and acting with his authority was the squad's vice-captain, Kaien Shiba. Both Ikkaku and Yumichika recognized him immediately as the man they had deceived at the outer wall in order to gain entrance to the Seireitei.
But if his failure bothered the lieutenant, he had not shown it. Upon the their first subsequent meeting, Shiba had reacted with surprised to realize he'd been duped.
"Well, shame on me for being fooled so easily," he quipped good-naturedly. "But you know, I have to get revenge now, so keep your guard up."
The rest of the squad was just like him. Easy-going but efficient. Highly motivated and dedicated to their captain – almost to a fault. A considerable amount of foolhardiness infused the squad members – they liked to play around and stir things up; but it was impossible to miss the underlying strength of focus when it came to carrying out missions. Squad Thirteen spent more time than any other squad reconnoitering the world of the living and sending souls to Soul Society. They were experts at it, and all their experience had enabled them to develop a sense of empathy and compassion for souls in turmoil. When a soul was on the verge of turning into a hollow, members of Squad Thirteen were dispatched.
The members of Thirteenth Squad were much more to Yumichika's liking, but Ikkaku found them boring. They were not so much interested in battles or contests as they were in carrying out the primary mission of Souls Reapers. Saving souls was paramount in Squad Thirteen.
Needless to say, the combination of the three squads in the dining facility was enough to make Yumichika lose his appetite. On the few occasions when he ate out, he much preferred to eat in the officers' mess or better yet, in the smattering of restaurants within the Gotei Thirteen area. Neither he nor Ikkaku had ventured out much into the greater surroundings of the Seireitei to search out dining establishments. Instead, Yumichika made good use of the officers' quarters common cooking area, the aroma of his dishes often drawing in other officers anxious to try some home-cooking.
But he was not cooking tonight. He wanted to have someone else do the cooking.
"How about the officers' mess?" Ikkaku offered.
Yumichika was ambivalent. "I don't know. I don't feel like eating . . . average stuff. I want something exceptional, but I don't want to have to make it."
"So, let's hit one of the restaurants," Ikkaku suggested. "You liked the last place we ate. What was it called? The Black Swan or something like that?"
"It was The Black Plum." Yumichika shrugged. "Sure, we can go there again." He stood up and went to the forest green lacquer garderobe against the back wall. "Let me put on something decent."
Over the past two weeks, Yumichika had made the most of his new post as a seated officer to procure fabrics and recreate a modest wardrobe for his off-duty hours. But the word modest only applied to the number of items. The garments themselves were every bit as colorful and ostentatious their owner.
In fact, in the Gotei Thirteen, where most Shinigami wore their uniforms even in their off-duty hours, Yumichika's mode of dressing, especially given his beauty, was definitely an attention-grabber. And it made Ikkaku feel strange, for in all the years he'd known Yumichika, he'd only once berated him for his fanciful appearance – and that hadn't been a genuine criticism, but rather the work of a fit of pique. He'd grown used to Yumichika's bright colors, his excessive level of cleanliness and delicacy, his wearing of clothing items that a man should never wear.
But now, he felt self-conscious about the stares Yumichika garnered. He'd actually felt embarrassed on several occasions when Yumichika had rolled out in the evening looking like the most beautiful woman in all of Soul Society.
He watched now as Yumichika looked through the garderobe and pulled out an andon hakama made of violet ribbed material. As he looked for a suitable top, that was when Ikkaku decided to intervene.
"Let's just wear our uniforms," he suggested. "It'll save us time."
Yumichika simpered. "It won't take me but a second—"
"I'm starving, and we don't have a second," Ikkaku insisted, taking Yumichika by the arm and pulling him towards the door.
"Hold on!" Yumichika protested. "At least let me pull my hair back. This way, it won't be so obvious." He peeled loose from Ikkaku's grip and drew his hair back into a short pony-tail that still could not mask the bare spot.
Ikkaku shook his head and stepped forward. He reached up and loosed the tie in Yumichika's hair. "Yumichika, stop worrying about it. You . . . you know no one will ever be as beautiful as you are. It doesn't matter what you're wearing. It doesn't matter if you have a patch in the back of your head. What matters now is that you keep working to fit in."
Yumichika regarded him curiously. "What are you trying to say, Ikkaku?"
"I—I'm just asking you to tone it down a little," Ikkaku replied. "You're going to draw attention no matter what, so why not . . . why not give them a few less reasons to gawk at you."
"You . . . don't want them looking at me?" Yumichika asked.
"Well . . . "
"So, dragging me across the courtyard and chopping my hair off wasn't an attention-grabber?" Yumichika was smirking now, his arms folded smugly across his chest.
"That was different!" Ikkaku insisted. "I just didn't want you to—I couldn't bear to hear you go on any more about your hair."
"And now you want me to dress as dull and drab as the rest of them so that I don't draw any more attention," Yumichika humphed.
"Look, most of the other Shinigami wear their uniforms all day," Ikkaku pointed out. "I just think we should be like them."
"Like everyone else . . . "
"You know what I mean, Yumichika," Ikkaku stated flatly.
Yumichika was silent for several seconds. When he spoke again, he was noncommittal. "It's a stupid thing for you to be concerned about." With that, he went outside. "Come on, let's go before it gets too crowded."
"And he's worried about me attracting attention for the wrong reasons."
Yumichika rolled his eyes. He then reached across the table and slid the decanter off the table and out of Ikkaku's reach. It was testimony to how much Ikkaku had already drank that he did not even notice Yumichika's action until he reached out to refill his glass.
"Where—where's the bottle?" he slurred.
"It's empty," Yumichika replied.
"Empty? But there was – it was full a few seconds ago!" Ikkaku cried out.
"Yes, well now, it's empty and you're full," Yumichika stated. "And I think it's time for us to head back. You've had enough."
Five minutes later they were on the way back to the Squad Eleven area. The Black Plum was within the Gotei Thirteen's limits, but it was clear on the opposite side of the grounds from the squad, located in the same area as Squads Five and Six. Still, the night was pleasant, and being as they were off-duty tomorrow, Ikkaku and Yumichika could take it slow on the way back to the officers' quarters. They had little choice, really; for Ikkaku was teetering like the drunken man he was at the moment.
Yumichika swore to himself he would never let Ikkaku get this intoxicated again, for not only was he a sloppy, slobbering mess who could barely walk on his own, but he was speaking at the top of his lungs, nearly shouting out words that would have embarrassed even the most self-centered narcissist.
"You know, if they had a—a beauty contest in the Go-Gotei Thirteen, I'll bet—you'd—you'd win every category, you know?" he warbled. "You'd—even the women—you'd beat even them!"
So much for toning it down.
"Yes, I'm sure I would," Yumichika said.
"And if you want to wear a flo-flo-flower—y thing, then . . . you do it!"
Yumichika only shook his head and said nothing. He continued on, half-carrying Ikkaku through the maze of streets that wended their way around the Squad Six barracks, since the idea of cutting through the area was completely out of the question. They had learned that much a week ago on their first outing to find a suitable place to dine. In their hurry to return to Squad Eleven's barracks, in the midst of a sudden downpour, they'd decided to cut through the Squad Six area. They'd been immediately confronted and ordered to go around.
This time, Yumichika would go around again. He had absolutely no chance of sneaking a drunken man through Squad Six's area.
Many of the passageways looked the same, especially in the torch-lit darkness. Yumichika had only been this way twice before, and he wasn't sure he was taking the right way back. He was about to stop and take stock when an explosion blew out the wall behind him, throwing both him and Ikkaku to the ground and raining debris down on top of them.
He started to push up onto his hands and knees, moving slowly to clear his head. He heard Ikkaku shout something and raised his head just in time to see him leap up and over the outer wall of the Squad Six barracks on the opposite side of the alley from where the explosion had occurred.
"Ikkaku!" Yumichika called out, getting to his feet. In one effortless leap, he followed Ikkaku over the wall, but landing on the other side, he did not see him. He was on the boundary of a fairly large ornamental garden. His eyes strained through the darkness to the quarter beyond. He could see a number of figures running towards the sound of the explosion, and then on the far side of the quarter, he caught sight of a man running in the opposite direction. The moonlight glinting off the man's head told him he'd spotted Ikkaku.
He began running. He was much faster than Ikkaku, so he felt confident he could catch him.
And then he found himself plowing face-first into the ground, his arms pinned and bound at his sides, his legs trussed together with glowing ropes tighter than steel bands. He spit out a mouthful of grass and dirt, grateful for the softness of the ground beneath him, but furious with himself for having been caught so off-guard.
A moment later he felt someone's foot in his side as they rolled him onto his back.
"He's wearing a Shinigami uniform, but I don't recognize him." A woman was standing over him, her glare visible even through the darkness. "He's not one of ours."
"I'm in Squad Eleven—"
"Be quiet. Don't speak unless you're spoken to," the woman warned. She was joined by three men. They all stood staring down at Yumichika, their faces burning with anger.
"Squad Eleven . . . I wouldn't be surprised," one of the men stated.
"That's if you can believe him," another said. "He doesn't exactly look like the Zaraki type."
"I'm telling you, I'm in Squad Eleven, and my friend just ran off across the garden! I think he's chasing someone!" Yumichika insisted.
"I told you to keep quiet," the woman reiterated. "Now, do as I say. I won't hesitate to use another bakudo spell to gag you."
"But he could be in trouble!"
Those were Yumichika's last words.
"Bakudo 4! Hainawa!"
A crawling rope of glowing light leapt from the woman's outstretched finger, circling around Yumichika's head and across his mouth, effectively silencing him.
"Go get Umenai and tell him we've caught one," the woman instructed one of the men who was off quickly.
All Yumichika could do now was wait.
Ikkaku was getting close. He might not be the fastest man in the Gotei Thirteen and he might still be drunk, but maybe it was that inebriated state that had made him throw caution to the wind and pursue with reckless abandon.
His quarry was not very fast, which was a good thing. But he was nimble – if it were a he. He, she – it didn't matter. Whoever it was, they were good at going over rooftops, across water, and under low structures.
But Ikkaku was good at these things, too; and he was faster than the one he was chasing. As he closed the distance between them, he saw that the other person was carrying something over his shoulder, but he could not make out what it was.
He got his answer in the next few seconds. Rounding a corner, he just caught sight of the runner ditching the item to one side as he ran; and then freed of his burden, his speed increased. Ikkaku tried to keep up with him for another minute, but it was no good. The man disappeared.
Ikkaku scowled at his failure. He turned and headed back to where the item had been discarded. It was a bag. Opening it, Ikkaku found the contents to be implements he had never seen before. Metal bars that looked like tent stakes, tightly wound coils of translucent material that could not be labeled as wire, twine or rope, small squares of a green substance with the consistency of chalk.
It was all a mystery to Ikkaku. He picked up the bag and headed back in what he thought was the right direction for Squad Six. He had become so disoriented in his pursuit that he really had no idea where he was going. After wandering without success for nearly thirty minutes, he availed himself of some loitering Shinigami, only to discover that he had drifted into the area around Squad Two, a place he definitely did not want to be.
Ikkaku did not know much about the Second Squad, only that its captain had been one of those to disappear, although it was said that she had defected to the world of the living with the traitorous former captain of Squad Twelve and the equally heinous head of the Kido Corps.
A new captain was in place, reviled as being unforgiving, cold-hearted, and bitter. Ikkaku could not remember her name, and that was not his main concern at the moment. He needed to turn over the bag and impart what little information he had to give regarding his pursuit. He considered reporting to Squad Two, given that one of its functions was to act as a sort of police force, a local militia. But then he thought better of it.
The best thing for him to do was return to the scene and report to whoever was in charge of the investigation. Besides, he needed to find Yumichika and make sure he was okay.
Now, if only he could find his way back . . .
"I told you, I was walking back to the Squad Eleven barracks from eating dinner, and then the explosion happened." Yumichika purposefully used a heightened tone of exasperation to bring across the point that he was growing frustrated with an inquiry that was a complete waste of time.
"Then why were you running in the opposite direction? Everyone else was running towards the explosion, and you were running away," asked the Shinigami who was conducting the interrogation, although interrogation was perhaps too strong a word.
"I was following my friend. He had headed off that way. He must have seen something and decided to pursue," Yumichika replied. It was not his first time giving the explanation.
"You say you're in Squad Eleven, Fifth Seat. I've never seen you before," the woman asked, leaning close and regarding him with a scrutinous eye. "And you stick out like a sore thumb. I'd remember seeing you."
Yumichika stifled a groan. "Are you listening to me? I already told you that I only joined three weeks ago—"
"I wouldn't take that tone, if I were you," the woman warned. "You were apprehended on Squad Six grounds, running away from an explosion. Being new to the Gotei Thirteen doesn't somehow absolve you of guilt."
"Send word to his captain to come here." The voice was deep, a man's low and rolling bass; and it came from the shadows across the room in which Yumichika was sitting.
The female Shinigami turned towards the darkness. "Sir? Are you—are you sure you want Kenpachi Zaraki stepping foot within these walls?"
"Do as I say, Patir." The man stepped out into the dull light. He was an older man, tall and distinguished in appearance, holding himself with almost regal authority. His long gray hair was swept back, and a thick graying mustache gave him the look of wisdom. He was wearing a captain's haori, and around his neck was a scarf of light blue silk.
"Yes, Captain Kuchiki," Patir replied. She quickly dispatched an underling to carry out the task.
Captain Genrei Kuchiki stepped forward and regarded Yumichika with unreadable eyes the color of slate.
Yumichika looked back at him, unmoved.
"You said you were going after your friend," the captain stated. "Who is your friend?"
"Ikkaku Madarame," Yumichika replied. "He's Squad Eleven Third Seat."
"I thought Himieal was third seat."
"He was," Yumichika said. "Until Ikkaku defeated him. We both joined the squad at the same time."
Captain Kuchiki looked at Yumichika for a long, appraising moment. At last, he said in a languid voice, "It's amazing what goes on in the other squads that I don't even hear about. Of course, nothing surprises me about Zaraki's squad. He's a demon leading a horde of heathens." A perplexed expression crossed his face. "Three weeks, you say? I don't imagine you'll last much longer in that hornets' nest." With that, he turned dismissively and walked to the far side of the room to converse with several other Shinigami gathered there.
Less than a minute later, a young boy, barely into his teenage years, came bursting into the room, accompanied by two more Shinigami.
"Grandfather!"
The captain appeared only mildly surprised. "Byakuya, what are you doing here?"
"I heard there was an explosion near the Squad 6 barracks, and I wanted to make sure you were alright," the boy said anxiously, crossing the room in six strides.
"As you can see, I'm fine," Captain Kuchiki replied. "So is everyone else. No one was hurt."
"What happened? What caused the explosion?" the boy, Byakuya, asked.
"That's what we're in the process of finding out," the captain replied, adding gently, "But this is no place for you to be right now. We're conducting an investigation."
With those words, Byakuy's eyes went to the only man in the room who was sitting. "Did he do it?"
"We don't know," Captain Kuchiki replied.
As the captain answered, Yumichika scowled in something close to outrage. "Are you going to invite a little boy to take part in my inquisition now?"
Captain Kuchiki was in front of him in an instant, bearing down on him with baleful eyes. "You need to remember your place. You are speaking of my grandson and heir to the Kuchiki Noble House. The day will soon come when he will far surpass you in rank within the Gotei Thirteen. He already is beyond you in every other way that counts."
Yumichika felt his jaw working. Oh, how he wanted to point out the one area where this little brat could never surpass him . . .
"Except in beauty."
Yumichika turned to see Ikkaku standing in the doorway, flanked by two more Shinigami.
"Ikkaku!"
"And manners," Ikkaku went on, yanking away from the light hold the guards had on him. "But I can see he's learning his bad manners from you, grand-pa."
At this, Patir drew her weapon and took up a fighting stance. "Who are you? And how dare you speak to the captain that way?!" She looked at the guards with fire in her eyes. "Why did you let him in here?"
Genrei put out his arm, an unspoken command for her to stand down.
"This is your friend?" he asked, speaking to Yumichika.
"Yes, and Third Seat of Squad Eleven—"
"Yes, I know. You told me." Captain Kuchiki turned his gaze to Ikkaku. "You will address me as Captain Kuchiki."
"Okay," Ikkaku conceded in an unconcerned voice, "And if you want to know what I have to tell you, you'll stop treating my friend, who also happens to be a seated officer, like he's a criminal."
"We are simply trying to gather information," Genrei answered, his entire manner infuriatingly placid and cool. "Fifth Seat Ayasegawa was seen running away from the scene—"
"I was running after you, Ikkaku," Yumichika interrupted. "But they stopped me. Where were you going?"
Ikkaku didn't answer right away. He looked from Yumcihika to Captain Kuchiki. If he were going to divulge what he'd seen, it would be only after this arrogantly superior captain showed some remorse for his treatment of Yumichika.
Ginrei waited patiently for the answer, and when none was forthcoming, he said, "Aren't you going to answer your friend's question?"
"I will after you apologize to him," Ikkaku replied.
Yumichika was stunned, but in a way that brought a subtle grin to his lips. Here they were, a little less than three weeks into being Shinigami, and they were already showing themselves to be disrespectful, incourteous hellions.
And it felt good. Amazingly good. Wonderful!
Maybe being in Squad Eleven wouldn't be so bad, after all. It was almost a permission slip to behave in whatever way they pleased.
Yumichika looked up at the vaunted Squad Six captain, and a gleam of mischief twinkled in his eye. "I'm waiting," he said in a musical voice.
But before any apology or outraged retort could be spoken, Lieutenant Kusajishi appeared from nowhere.
"Hay-ya!" She sang out a greeting, her smile so broad that it seemed wider than her small, round face. "Kenny sent me to get you two!" And in the blink of an eye, she had Ikkaku by an ear and Yumichika by the back of his obi, and they were gone in a flashstep that rivaled the speed of light.
Patir was on the verge of pursuit, but Genrei stopped her. "Let them go."
"But Captain—"
"They had nothing to do with the explosion," he went on. "I could sense that much. Still, the Third Seat has some information. I will be paying a visit to Squad Eleven later on tonight, unless the captain commander calls an emergency meeting."
"Do you think that's likely? Patir asked.
"An explosion within the Gotei Thirteen garrison, at the forge . . . absolutely. I expect a summons to a captains' meeting within the hour."
"Grand-father! You can't let them get away!" Byakuya insisted. "Not if they know something."
Ginrei placed a firm hand on the boy's shoulder. "Byakuya, return home. I will send an escort with you." He spoke down the long length of his regal nose. "I am disappointed in you for running over here when there could have been danger involved. And I will have a serious discussion with the house guard. You should never have managed to get past them."
Byakuya hid his prideful grin with a forced look of contrived remorse. "I've been improving in my training," he said. "You don't really believe they could stop me, do you, grandfather?"
Genrei did not answer but to repeat his command, "Go home and do not venture out anymore tonight."
Byakuya, determined to be the obedient heir of the Kuchiki clan, nodded curtly. "Yes, grandfather."
Bwump! Thwump!
Ikkaku raised his head and looked up from where he had been dumped like so much rubbish on the floor. Beside him, Yumichika was sitting up slowly, the expression on his face as confused as the one on Ikkaku's. They were in Squad Eleven headquarters, in what looked like it should be the captain's office, except it had the appearance of never having been used. And there was no captain present.
Lieutenant Kusajishi sat perched on the edge of the pristine and empty desk.
"Lieu-Lieutenant . . . what happened?" Ikkaku asked. "A second ago, we were all the way over in Squad Six—"
"Kenny sent me to get you, silly!" came the blithe reply. "So, I brought you back."
"But how? I mean, we were just there. No one can move that fast," Ikkaku insisted.
"I can!" the lieutenant replied, and a tiny close-lipped chuckle followed.
"But—but—"
"Flashstep, Baldy! You're gonna hafta learn, you know!"
Ikkaku looked at Yumichika. "Is that the thing you do?"
Yumichika nodded once. "But not like that. That—we got all the way here in . . . it couldn't have been even a second." He looked at the lieutenant. "And how could you carry us? Or pull us? Or drag us? Lieutenant, you're a little girl."
A glee-filled laugh was her only response, then she began bouncing up and down. "Ken-chan! Ken-chan!"
Both Ikkaku and Yumichika felt it at the same time – the looming reiatsu—only a moment before the door swung open and Zaraki strode in. He walked over to the desk, looked at it and sat down on top instead of in the chair.
"Well, well, well, trouble-makers already," he scoffed in his deep, rumbling voice. "Didn't take you two long to get into the thick of things, did it?"
"Captain, please let us explain—" Yumichika began, but Zaraki cut him off.
"I'll let you know when I need you to interrupt me," he said in such a tone that it shut Yumichika down immediately. A short pause followed. "So, how does it end up that the captain of Squad Six feels the need to summon me to his barracks?"
Ikkaku and Yumichika exchanged glances, not sure if they were expected to answer.
"Well, speak up!" Zaraki demanded.
Both of them began talking at once in excited voices.
Zaraki let them go on for several seconds before bellowing, "That's enough! One at a time!" He looked at Yumichika. "You, since you seem to like talking so much. What happened?"
"We were coming back from dinner and as we passed the Squad Six area, there was an explosion. It knocked me down, but when I got up, I saw Ikkaku running off through Squad Six's area. I tried to go after him, but some Soul Reapers stopped me. They held me for questioning and I told them in was in Squad Eleven. That's when their captain sent someone to get you," Yumichika said in a rush.
Zaraki's gaze shifted to Ikkaku. "Now you."
"After the explosion, as I was getting up, I saw someone, a shadow, in the top of a tree on the other side of wall around Squad Six. So, I went after him. He took off across the garden before anyone had come out and seen the damage yet, so no one noticed him but me. I was starting to gain on him, then he dropped this and I wasn't fast enough to keep up." Ikkaku held up the bag.
"What's this?" Captain Zaraki took the bag and looked inside. "More explosive devices? Eh, we'll give to Squad Twelve and let them figure it out."
Ikkaku went on. "After I lost track of the guy, I went back to make a report at the scene. When I got there, I tried to find Yumichika." He gave a sheepish sideways glance. "I wanted to make sure he was okay. I guess I got carried away in the excitement and took off before making sure he wasn't injured."
Yumichika simpered but was silent.
"So, I told a couple guys who were guarding the scene who I was and that I had something to report to whoever was in charge. They took me to some building, and that's where their captain was questioning Yumichika. Next thing I knew, the lieutenant showed up and . . . here we are," Ikkaku finished.
A long silence brought the room to a tense pinnacle, then Zaraki burst out laughing.
"Oh, this is perfect! Imagine that old geezer thinking he could summon me like I'm one of his underlings! Haah! This is too good to be true!"
Once again, Yumichika and Ikkaku exchanged perplexed glances.
"What, did he think you two were responsible for the explosion?!" he bellowed.
"He was suspicious," Yumichika replied. "And there was a woman there, too. She definitely thought I had something to do with it."
"That was probably 4th Seat Myususijash. A real pain in the ass," Zaraki snarled, but even so, he was still in good humor. "Maybe Captain Kuchiki will decide to pay me a visit here. Sure as hell I'm not going over to see him."
"But captain, shouldn't I tell someone about what I saw? And what about the bag?" Ikkaku asked.
"I said we'll give the bag to Squad Twelve. If anyone wants to come ask you questions, fine. Let 'em come here. Damn, who wouldn't want to blow up Squad Six?"
"Kenny! Kenny! That's not nice!"
"When have I ever cared about being nice?" Zaraki replied, then he burst into crazed laughter again. "Maybe next time, the culprit will try to blow up something in Squad Eleven, and I'll get to meet him face-to-face. Now, that might be fun."
"Uh, captain?" Yumichika put forth tepidly. "The explosion wasn't exactly in the Squad Six barracks. It was in a building just outside their walls."
"What was in the building?" Zaraki asked.
"I'm not sure. I didn't get a chance to look," Yumichika replied.
Zaraki looked at his lieutenant, and for a moment he was serious. "Yachiru, go find out what was in the building."
Once the lieutenant had departed, Zaraki looked back at his two newest officers. "I can see you're both going to fit in just fine here. But if you ever do something again that interrupts my evening soak, I'm going to tear you both apart, shred by shred by shred."
"Yes, Captain," they both replied.
At that moment, a hell butterfly arrived.
Its message?
Captains' meeting immediately.