Subject No: 5041301-01

Subject Report

From Consultation:

Large compound, helpful subordinates to point the way, respectful, disciplined, organized. (Most if not all seem to be afraid of some seemingly invisible yet powerful presence that is presently not yet located.) Spacious office, teak wooden flooring, plenty of sunlight, gentle breeze blowing through the wide windows. (Area seems overly large for just one person.) Situation appears to be well under control. (There does not seem to be anything going on at all.) Neat, organized, meticulously so, art is tasteful. (Tastefully boring. Mountains, streams and rivers in ancient Chinese style was so last decade.) Perfect for the analysis.

Appears normal, sitting behind desk situated in the center of the room, sunlight just centimeters from the eyes. (Such strategic location cannot possibly be pre-planned and is probably just mere coincidence.) Subordinate ordered to stand down, leaves the room. Subject seems domineering even without looking up from work. Subject seems unaffected when the chair is scraped against the floor a little harder than it should. Unaffected when not yet greeted. Unaffected by different form of dress.

Subject remains unaffected, still continuing on work, or what appears to be work, sheets of paper spread out in front of the desk, ink brush swishing gently over the paper. Calligraphy is an art, but time is running short. Perhaps a small reminder? Subject remains unaffected. Perhaps deaf? File does not indicate so. Perhaps not.

Archaic. Grinding of ink block has not been used in everyday work for centuries. Subject continues with the writing, appears to know exactly what is happening. Seems unaffected and oblivious of presence of other in the room. Appears to not have noticed change. Indicative of obsession and possible pre-occupation with work.

Subject does not respond when ridiculous acts are performed within the office. Subject does not look up even when questions are directed to him. Subject seems to be completely oblivious to presence of other. (Subject just might be sleeping.)

From Colleague A:

Subject shows history of being obsessed with matters of morality. No view of moral grey zone whatsoever, even in life-threatening situation where opinion could possibly save lives. Rigid and immovable, stubborn to a fault although claimed to be of significant power and if claim be accurate, then thus rightfully so. Position of power makes this all the more important.

Only gave up the chase against disobeyers due to matter of greater and larger importance. Holds possibility of returning back to revisit the matter once above mentioned matter of greater and larger importance is resolved. Holds the power of doing so. Subject often attends to detail for the sake of attending to detail, often leaves out reason for being excessively meticulous. Holds such power that has not been questioned.

From Colleague B:

Subject shows intense dedication to work matter, taking all things work-related seriously. Subject takes all things to be work-related and shows no signs of a social life whatsoever. Appears to have little interactions with members of other generations. Note: There appear to be no other members of the subject's generation. Little interactions with anyone outside of work.

Subject has not been seen out of work compound for years except for work-related requirements. Is not known to be anything else other than driven by work and for work, supposedly for the good of the community. No evidence has been seen that there has been such a contribution larger and more profound that that of other colleagues.

Diagnosis:

Subject is suffering from obsessive-compulsive personality disorder, symptoms of which include preoccupation with details, rules, lists, order, organization, or schedules to the extent that the major point of the activity is lost, excessive devotion to work and productivity to the exclusion of leisure activities and friendships (not accounted for by obvious economic necessity), being overconscientious, scrupulous, and inflexible about matters of morality, ethics, or values, and the showing of rigidity and stubbornness.

Instant restorative and rehabilitative measures are recommended. Please contact analyst for further details.

"Did you hear?" Kira brought a cup over to where Renji was sitting at the bar. It was still early, and they were still waiting on Ikkaku, Yumi and the whole gang to arrive. Iba was not there yet and neither was Matsumoto, so it was really a surprise that Renji, the latecomer, was actually early this time.

"Yeah." A smirk came to Renji's face, though he immediately buried half of said face in his cup, thus nullifying all possible responses.

"They say that one of the Gotei 13 Captains is nuts." Kira dragged a chair and sat down, ignoring the barkeep's annoyed look at the chair legs scraping at the floor.

"Yeah, they brought in one of those specialists… Haven't seen those ever before. Wonder where that man came from. S'not like anyone makes clothing like that besides that Ishida guy the last time he came here."

"Doesn't matter, does it? He's here to do something, apparently."

"Well, duh, Kira. That was rather obvious."

"Yeah, but did you see the results?"

Renji snorted into his sake jug. "Of course! Can't believe he actually released them to the newspaper! Hisagi must be having the time of his life!"

A wry smile came to Kira's face. Honestly, Eleventh division seemed to sap people of their manners. Oh well, not like Renji had many to begin with anyway. "That's Hisagi-senpai to you, Renji. You know that it's impolite, right?"

"Whatever, man. But yeah, it's all over the papers. Who do you think this one is? I mean, it almost seems like Kuchiki-taicho, but not quite."

"Well, I do have my suspicions but…" A grin grew behind Kira's sake jug as he took another large gulp from it, only to be interrupted halfway by a triumphantly smirking Ikkaku, and Yumichika who looked pristinely happy as usual.

A rough shove to Renji's shoulder heralded Ikkaku's arrival for the red-haired man. "Are ya stupid or what, Renji?"

"Oi, Ikkaku. Long time no see. Sit. And what's with the scolding? Not like you're any better." Turning around, he slapped at the chair next to him, holding out another sake jug passed over by the barkeep.

Inclining his head in thanks, Ikkaku downed a third of the jug in a gulp, swiping at his mouth with a hand. The triumphant smirk on his face widened as he leant slightly towards Renji. "Yeah? Well, I, unlike you, already know who that's referring to."

A snort from Renji was the first reaction that Ikkaku got, closely followed by an indignant statement. "Yeah right. Tell me, then, if you're so smart. S'not like you actually know."

"I really do know, dumbass." The smirk morphed into an all out feral grin in imitation of Zaraki-taicho's as Ikkaku faux-glared at Renji, daring him to say something.

"I told him."

"Oi, oi, Yumi. Ya not s'pposed ta say that. Ya s'pposed to stand there and grin as I dazzle them with ma superior intelligence."

"Ooh, somebody's been taking language classes."

"Shut up, Renji. Not like ya that smart."

"But anyway, how did you know, Yumichika-san?"

"Ah, so you finally decided to involve my beautiful presence in your conversation, Kira-kun?"

"Spit it out, Yumi."

"Maa, no need to be so impatient, Renji-kun. In time, in time."

"And?" Renji rolled his eyes from behind his sake bottle. Gee, why did he have to prompt Yumi for every single little detail?

"You really are too impatient for your own good, no?"

"Yumi. Spill."

"Well, if you insist. That is what I overheard Kyouraku-taicho speaking about with Ukitake-taicho when I was at Fourth Division to pick up paperwork."

"Eh? How would Kyouraku know?" This time, Kira was too interested to pick up on the impoliteness of calling one of Seireitei's most senior captains solely by surname.

"He did mention something about being interviewed." Yumichika grinned at the surprised and shocked looks on all of their faces, including that of Ikkaku. His bald friend was as perceptive as Zaraki-taicho was when it came to hollows. Not at all. After all, it did not take much to kill them. Slash, hack, die. And Ikkaku's perceptiveness paled in comparison to the poor perceptiveness of Renji, and the acutely sharp one of Kira. (Which was another reason why Yumi liked talking to Kira. Gossiping was such a lovely pastime. Talking to Matsumoto was even better, though.)

"Interviewed? Who would interview that man?! He's half-drunk all the time! And who would they interview him on? S'not like Ukitake-taicho's nuts. Who else would Kyouraku-taicho know stuff about?" Ikkaku looked slightly offended at the idea that Yumi had known such things, and seemed a little pissed. Yumi suspected that it was the drink talking. After all, Ikkaku got half-drunk very quickly. It just took him forever to get knocked out.

"Well, apparently he can be a good source of information even when half-drunk all the time."

"Heh. Very funny. So spill, Yumi."

"Nu uh. I'm not telling who it is. Ikkaku knows. Make him tell you."

"Ikkaku. Spill."

"As if I'd spill so easily, Renji. Who d'ya think I am, huh?"

"Shut your trap." Yup, they were both drunk. Yumi sat down in a chair and exchanged wary glances with Kira, the latter having very little to drink because it was his turn to stay sober and drag the others back.

"Then I won't be telling ya nuts."

Kira was very adept at sensing when storms were about to go, having been in the Third Division where Ichimaru's expressions and every whim had more or less meant life or death. As such, he knew that the two more violent counterparts were close to exchanging blows. (Not that it took a lot, but still…) And so, he hurriedly butted into the conversation. "So, Ikkaku, who is it?"

"Hah, see, Renji, at least Kira here knows how to ask nicely."

"Yeah, yeah, get on with it. S'not like we have all day."

"It's the soutaicho."

"WHAT?!"

Kira fell out of his chair with a thump, a thankfully empty sake jug colliding roughly with his chest. Ikkaku chuckled merrily, taking another swig from the bottle directly as Renji choked and spluttered. Yumichika raised a feathered eyebrow, a knowing smile going to his face as he extended a hand to help Kira up. The barkeep glared at them when a voice sounded from the doorway.

"Starting the party without me? I'm hurt, guys."

"Uh?" A half-drunk Renji turned around to look at the doorway. Matsumoto grinned happily, waving before bouncing right over, closely followed by Hisagi and Iba.

This was going to be a night to remember.

Actually, it was going to be thirteen very interesting nights to remember.

And here's yet another story! If you couldn't guess by now, it'll be exactly 13 chapters long. :P. Most of the information related to the mental disorder was taken from the almighty Wikipedia. Do not hesitate to poke if any mistakes are spotted. :)

Many apologies for starting so many stories, but this is one of those ideas that pounced on me and requested to be written. I'm very welcome to, and would be very grateful to ideas for the diagnoses of Gin, Unohana and Ukitake, because those three are ones which I haven't found relevant information for yet.

Cheers,
Tan