Hail, King
Chapter 1: Homecoming
It was a usual sunny day in Seireitei when everything suddenly changed.
There was no ominous presence in the horizon, nobody quietly singing "Cometh the hour" in the background, no threat from a hidden enemy in the Soul Society. Yet, many felt that something was wrong.
Even if no crisis was there and the reasons were perfectly peaceful, Gotei was short of two captains at the moment, a glaring weakness. Hopefully, after an unexpected promotion filled the vacancy in Twelfth Division, everything would get better soon. Or… would not?
Unohana was the first to come to the open ground near the First Division barracks, long before the official summons came. A shinigami would not simply live long enough to become a captain without sharpening his intuition to the maximum. But for the most dreaded woman of the Soul Society, the ability to find a massacre site even before it started was the second nature.
She felt a faint, but strangely overwhelming coppery smell and strange familiarity with a massive figure just across the clearing. The massive man with broad shoulders, but so extremely tall that he looked almost gauntly in his build. Long unkempt hair, strange predatory grin, scar across the face, and piercing killer eyes: definitely her brand of male. She started feeling some interest.
A standard-issue (or probably just looking standard, because the uniforms of that size were never supplied properly, she knew) shinigami uniform, covered by a captain-style haori with long gashes and cuts in it. He had his sword unsheathed, and it looked similarly old and weathered too. It was the overall impression from the man: shabby and worn, but still able to withstand literally everything the world could throw at him. Weathered, but not yet broken.
Yes, it would be a shame when he dies.
She smiled serenely.
Kyoraku and Ukitake, inconspicuous as ever, were second to get out and see minutes-long staring contest between Unohana and the man. Chojiro, the timeless right hand of the Captain Commander, chose that moment to exit the barracks himself; no doubt he was spying quietly before. The insidious bastard usually knew everything that happened in Seireitei even before it had been planned by the culprits and often chose to intervene (especially about Kyoraku's voyages into the bedrooms of noble ladies).
"Ukitake-san, may it be the same Ryoka your squad reported decimating the Hollow population in the world of the living?" Shunsui recalled the unabridged version of the report and was not sure; the resident shinigami was too shocked to remember anything of importance. Large, bloodthirsty, and terrifying – it could refer to a plenty of things, not necessary even a soul.
"It may be him or not, but the description matches, Sasakibe-san."
"It's also very strange how these souls have managed to get through Ninth Division patrols unnoticed."
"Souls, Sasakibe-san?" He saw only one large guy there.
Chojiro frowned as if missing something.
"Hello, Shun-shun!" The kiddy chirping came from behind his back, startling all three. No kid should be able to creep behind a captain-level shinigami unnoticed, yet she did. "Hi! Nice to see you two, Ukki-san and Mustaches-san!" And judging from her childishly mischievous laughs, the pink-haired girl did it on purpose.
"You too are waiting for Ken-chan sparring?" She was giggling, as if seeing high-level shinigami battles was the most hilarious thing ever. Kyoraku already pitied he had not drank a bottle of sake in the morning: the kid was very cute, but her manner was very irritating.
"Ken-chan?" Ukitake, the ever-friendly one, was the first to smile sweetly and ask.
The child was visibly sad they could not understand the simplest things, but diligently pointed her finger on the stranger, then on herself. "This is Zaraki Kenpachi! And I am Yachiru Kusajishi! We'll be having fun here!"
Kenpachi? Yachiru? Three man shared a look of concern: such name-taking would not find any appreciation from Unohana. Hell, she would be in fury, and that was a strategic risk to anyone around.
But then all the Gotei captains, headed by the Commander Yamamoto, exited from the barracks, and everyone was distracted by his fierce gaze.
Unohana, though, did not stop staring at the Ryoka.
"So, you want to battle a captain for the position. I thought that this law was forgotten for centuries outside Gotei 13." Captain Commander's displeasure was obvious from his booming voice. Kyoraku was sure than more than half-millennium passed since an outsider had invoked this obscure rule.
"Why?" Ryoka looked perplexed, as if he was somehow sure it was a common knowledge.
"Because I killed every one that tried." Yachiru Unohana, the Bloody Queen, plainly spoke. "Two or three of them even won against other captains. But you will have to fight me afterwards even if you challenge other officer, Zaraki-san."
Adult Yachiru smiled with one of her legendary creepy smiles. Little Yachiru chirped happily loud enough to show her fascination with the idea to everyone in an area. Their similar interest in a bloodbath was simply disturbing.
Ryoka's grin widened, but said nothing. His faint reiatsu suddenly expanded manifold, sending the men outside the training ground to their knees. Even the new Captain of the Twelfth Division paled; it's either that he was not used to such massive spiritual pressures or… the famous scientist felt something dangerous within it. As the reiatsu pressure nearly reached Yamamoto-dono's level, the latter option made Kyoraku very uneasy: he learned to trust Urahara-kun in obscure things.
"Waited for the chance for years. I will fight till you pass out from exhaustion, Retsu-kun." That pet name was a sexual innuendo if he ever saw one. Kyoraku was almost sure he heard Unohana grinding her teeth.
"But I don't have to fight you first, haven't you said? You, the glasses boy!"
And only then everything made sense.
It was not long, only a decade or so, since the bespectacled youngster was able to replace Seinosuke Yamada, the universally hated previous Fourth Division Captain. Gentle, efficient, and much, much more polite, he was popular in the Soul Society. Maybe, despite rather young age, he was even among the Gotei 13 most popular: his wise demeanor, pretty looks, and clanless origin made him the iconic figure for the progressive politics. And progressive politics literally meant troubles.
Even being centuries older than the most of the current Central 46, he and Ukitake were much more neutral on the issue, neutral enough to think of the ways to prevent a political assassination of their fellow Captain. However, none of them expected it to happen so soon and to be so blatant.
He looked at Yamamoto for approval, but the old man shook his head swiftly. The right of challenge stood there at the foundation of their society even before the first bloody days of the Seiretei, when only conflicting warbands were there to fight Hollows. Only few people in Soul Society were still alive to remember the times now, and most of them would simply annihilate any one attempting to overthrow such an old reputable tradition.
The healer was still hesitant to come out.
"Starting with the weakest, insolent youngster? If you maim or kill him, I will personally burn you and your masters both. This is my promise." Old man Yama chose to warn the Ryoka, and then prompted the challenged Captain forward with a mere word.
"Aizen!"
Author's Note:
A different Yachiru is not a timid Captain of the pacifistic Fourth division, but the (in)famous Bloodied Queen, the first and only Kenpachi. Another Yachiru hides from captains in plain sight and squeals in glee for a massacre to come. Names can get so confusing.
Different Zaraki challenges not a combat-ready tenth Kenpachi, but an innocent healer. Different Aizen is not a nefarious lieutenant, but a harmless doctor and babbling politician. Or is he?
And what caused this mess?
Two chapters to come.