Disclaimer: As always, nothing you recognize is mine.

Lacunae

A Bleach Fanfic

Chaos Theory AU

Chapter One: Primis

First day of spring—
I keep thinking about
the end of autumn.

-Matsuo Bashō

One week after the Battle of Fake Karakura Town

"The Gotei 13 is in grave shape, Kyōraku-taichō."

Shunsui blinked up at the pale panel concealing the sage's face. This one was inscribed in blocky, utilitarian characters with the number 35. Frankly, a statement like that was rich coming from one of the Central 46. This incarnation of them had been in place for slightly less than five years in total, but they already seemed to be taking great care to impress upon him who was in control of whom in this situation.

Which was really kind of funny, since they were essentially telling him to do something they weren't capable of.

He folded his arms into his sleeves. The attendant in front of the audience chamber had asked him to remove his hat. It was sort of annoying now, since the lights were focused on the part of the room where the visitor stood. It only made it that much more difficult to tell anything at all about the forty sages arranged in concentric circles around it, each successive ring elevated over the others. The six judges sat highest and furthest back, because that was how the Central 46 conceived of leadership.

They didn't really need to inspire devotion when there was so much fear at their disposal, he supposed.

"That it is," he replied lightly. "We're without six captains out of thirteen, and two vice-captains. And of course we don't currently have a Sōtaichō, which means that we've been more or less decapitated, as it were."

The casual tone he used to report all of this didn't go over well; he could practically hear more than half the room stiffen. Good. They needed to be uncomfortable.

He certainly was. Retsu-san hadn't really thought he should be leaving the Fourth yet, with all the damage he'd taken in the fight against Aizen. While Shunsui didn't think he was as badly off as all that thanks to her expertise, he wasn't here because he wanted to be. A summons from the Central 46 just wasn't something that could be ignored. And no sooner had they finished sentencing Aizen than they summoned him.

Shunsui knew why. They knew why. They were just wasting his time because they could. And they found it important for him to know that they could. The sages and judges both here were aware that they were essentially second-best, so to speak, appointed to their positions because it was necessary to replace the ones Aizen had killed. Yama-jii hadn't bothered to go through them for anything while the war was still going, and so his death was the first chance they'd had to assert themselves over the Gotei 13.

"Are you taking this at all seriously?" 35 asked, the tremor in his tone betraying both disbelief and nerves. The 'his' part was easy to figure out. All fifty people in this room were men, down to the guards. The way it had always been. Shunsui remembered when Yama-jii had been considered eccentric for allowing women to attend Shin'ō and learn shinigami skills at all.

He might have spent a little more time entertaining the thought of letting these people meet Retsu-san and see what they made of that, but he knew he had to play nice here. "Of course I am, Seijin-san. I was at the battle that took most of their lives, as I'm sure you'll recall."

Yama-jii's funeral had been yesterday. Shunsui had lived a long time—but never a day when his teacher didn't. Not until a week ago.

The reminder of his participation in Aizen's demise was enough to quiet 35. One of the others—23—took up the thread of conversation instead. "It has come to our attention that Yamamoto-sōtaichō named you his successor in a conversation that took place the day before the battle."

Shunsui hummed, withdrawing one of his arms and using the hand to scratch at his whiskers. He'd trimmed his beard before the ceremony, but it was starting to itch. "We might have had that discussion, sure."

Though the tension was receding, he could tell that they were not particularly impressed with his answers. That was good, though. He didn't want them too wary of him. Shunsui had never had any great love for the faceless men that told all the rest what was required and what was forbidden. That lack of fondness had soured further after…

Well, after Ise-san.

But they didn't need to know that.

"As you are no doubt aware, Yamamoto did not have authority to decide who the next Sōtaichō of the Gotei 13 will be. That power belongs to the Central 46 alone."

Well. Apparently a bit of damage control was in order, or they were likely to throw him out of here and pick Jūshirō just to be contrary.

Not that Shunsui would have resented that, in itself. But Jūshirō was ill, and Shunsui did not imagine that the job of being Sōtaichō was one that would do anything but put more strain on whichever of them took it.

"I'm sure he knew that, too," he said, bobbing his head agreeably. "Insofar as sensei was preparing for contingencies, I expect he just wanted the chain of command to be clear if something happened on the battlefield, which it did." That was, of course, a lie—it was obvious that Yama-jii's intention had been that Shunsui inherit the position upon his possible death and didn't really give a damn what the sages made of that.

Yes, yes, it's all fine. I know my place.

These people were exhausting.

"An understandable precaution." That was one of the judges; his panel said 42. "And, this council has determined, not an inappropriate one. Which is why we are appointing you Sōtaichō in the wake of Yamamoto's death."

Well, it was good to see they could be brought around to the point eventually.

Shunsui was quiet for an appropriate amount of time, letting his head tilt down and his eyes rest on the floor. One deep breath in, and then out.

When he returned his attention to the sages, it was to nod soberly. "I will execute the office to the best of my ability."

That, at least, was completely true.

"See that you do," 42 replied. "And fill the vacancies in the ranks as soon as possible. We will be waiting to approve your selections."

Of course they would.

With a bow slightly shallower than it should have been, Shunsui accepted the dismissal for what it was an exited the chamber.

Apparently he was supposed to magically conjure up eight new top-ranking officers from what was left of the Gotei 13. This was going to be interesting.

"So how does it feel to be on the other side of the desk?"

Shunsui groaned, laying back and folding his hands together behind his head. The engawa at Jūshirō's house wasn't the most comfortable of surfaces, but he prided himself on being able to sleep pretty much anywhere. "What do you think? I'm here instead of there."

"Sure," Jūshirō replied, "but it's past working hours, so I think you can be excused for that."

Working hours. He'd probably have to start caring about that sort of thing again. At least for a little while. Long enough to guide things to the point where the Gotei 13 was running like a well-balanced water clock again, instead of the fits and starts and half-limping thing it was doing now. It was going to be a hell of a lot of work.

Shunsui hummed, extracting one of his hands and wrapping it around the neck of the sake bottle instead. They'd toasted the fallen already; it had been a while since they'd had to do that. Not since they thought Isshin was dead, actually, and Kaien before him.

They'd never had so many to toast at once.

"What are you going to do?" Jūshirō asked, taking a small sip from his own cup. Retsu-san advised against him drinking much, so he'd probably switch to tea pretty soon.

Shunsui would not. "Do? Well, there's a lot to do. The first thing I'm doing is putting both Kurosakis, Rangiku-san, Izuru-san, and Hinamori-san on extended leave." There was more than one kind of damage the war had done. When Retsu-san was finished, the physical damage would be basically gone.

But the other damage… that didn't go away as easily. "You want me to add Rukia-san to the list? One of those Arrancar had Kaien-kun's face, right?"

Jūshirō thought it over, compressing his mouth into a thin line. "I think… well, let me talk to her about it. She seems to be handling it fairly well at present. If anything, she's quite worried that Ishida-san's recovery is slow. But we both know seeming well and being well are not the same."

They sure did.

"Of course, that's knocking a lot of the fukutaichō off the list of people who are currently able to help run the place, which only makes finding replacements for the ones we've lost more urgent." But still—he couldn't just expect those who were closest to the traitors and the dead to get over it and keep going as though nothing had happened. It was unfair and in the long run would probably do the Gotei 13 as a whole more harm than good.

"There aren't enough shinigami with bankai to fill the gaps," Jūshirō noted. "Even if we acted like that was the only requirement for the position, which it's not. There are six empty captaincies. We have… four non-captain shinigami with bankai."

Shunsui nodded from his spot on the ground, staring at the ceiling over his head without really seeing it. "Abarai, Madarame, Chōjirō-san and Kurosaki Karin."

She was an entirely different issue, one he was going to need to enlist some help to deal with, and quickly. At least if what Kisuke-san had told him was true. Shunsui didn't really have any reason to doubt it.

"I think Kurosaki-kun is much too young," Jūshirō noted. "She's belonged to the Gotei less than five years in total. Even considering how desperately we need officers…"

"Agreed." Shunsui rolled onto his side, making it easier to lift his sake dish to his mouth and take a drink. "She doesn't have the experience necessary to be a captain. I don't think Ikkaku-san's ready yet, either. He's had his bankai for a while, but he still thinks it's a secret."

"They all do seem to have been living in Zaraki-taichō's shadow, don't they?"

There wasn't any denying that. "I'm going to talk to Chōjirō-san, but the First is kind of…" Shunsui gestured with his dish, careful not to slosh any of the sake over the side.

"His home," Jūshirō finished. "He looked… especially unwell, at the funeral."

He had. Yama-jii had taught Shunsui and Jūshirō. They were his successors. But Chōjirō-san was something else. He'd served the Sōtaichō. Pledged his life to that service. It wasn't a completely different problem from the one Ikkaku had, really. Being an especially talented subordinate did not a leader make, and there was a perceptible difference between people who had what leading required and people who didn't.

Probably about half the difference was the desire, but that wasn't all there was to it, either. "I'm not going to force anyone to let me nominate them for promotion," Shunsui said. "That's just asking for things to fall apart later."

"Abarai-san seems like the most solid choice," Jūshirō observed, which was an indirect agreement if Shunsui had ever heard one. "I know he's quite committed to the Sixth, but promotion is a natural step for him, I think."

It wasn't really hard to figure out that Renji had his heart set on surpassing Byakuya someday, and Shunsui was pretty sure he could convince him that captaining his own division was one way to keep going about that. Besides that, he'd grown a lot over the last few years. It might be that he'd be willing to do it without much convincing at all.

"You're probably right about that. After that though… I think I'm going to have to start looking outside the Seireitei."

Jūshirō finished off what was in his dish, then set it down on the low table with a soft clink. "Sensei pardoned Kisuke-san and some of the others before the battle, didn't he? I believe that was how he got them to switch the false Karakura town with the real one."

"He did." The sake stung Shinsui's tongue when he swallowed it, the bite of it lingering for a few moments after. "That's one of the ways I'm going to go. Isshin's another. After that… I don't know yet."

There was a thought turning around in his head, but he knew without having to ask that the Central 46 were not going to like it. Which was why it was all the more important that he go out of his way to exhaust the most appropriate channels first.

"I know that look, Shunsui. I understand that you don't like them, but it would be better if you didn't antagonize them on purpose."

Shunsui snorted. "Antagonizing them is unavoidable if I want to get this place back to anything like normal function. I just need to make sure I do it in a way they can't get around."

If he also happened to enjoy it, well… who was to know but him?

Two weeks after the Battle of Fake Karakura Town

"Sōtaichō—the Twelfth Division has delivered the first batch of recordings. Would you like to watch them now, or later?" Chōjirō moved out of his bow, but lingered respectfully at the threshold. He wasn't the type to enter the office unless specifically given permission to do so.

Shunsui had gotten tired of that sort of thing a long time ago, but despite being around the same age, Chōjirō apparently never had. Jūshirō would surely tell him it was a matter of personality and not age. That was probably it.

So he beckoned the other man inside with a motion. "In a minute. First I wanted to talk to you, Chōjirō-san."

Permission granted, Yama-jii's fukutaichō stepped inside, his stride the clipped, professional march of a lifelong soldier. He stood straight in front of Shunsui's desk, but now that he was closer it wasn't hard to pick out the inconsistencies. There were dark rings under his eyes, a tension in his frame that Shunsui knew wasn't there just because of his presence. Yama-jii had been much more authoritative, and Chōjirō here had existed comfortably beside that for centuries. The old man hadn't been the type for friends, really, but if he'd ever had one, his vice-captain was probably it. Never mind what they'd both say about service and loyalty.

If Shunsui and Jūshirō had been the kind of students that approached being sons, Chōjirō had been the kind of retainer that approached being a friend—minus a few barriers that never got knocked down. It was understandable that Yama-jii's death was hitting him hardest of all.

There wouldn't be much time to mourn until the Gotei 13 was out of the straits it was in, though. Chōjirō knew that just as well as Shunsui did. Souls in the living world needed konsō. Hollows needed purification. The balance needed maintenance. And all of that needed supervision, adjustment, monitoring—all the bureaucratic nonsense that wasn't really nonsense at all. That fell to them.

"You look tired, Chōjirō-san."

The other man stiffened perceptibly, then blinked, almost forcing himself to relax. "I am capable of carrying out my duties, Sōtaichō."

Shunsui offered him a lopsided smile. "Oh, I know. I'm relying on it, in fact. But you still look tired."

He waited. This was not the way Yama-jii would have handled this situation, and Shunsui knew it. He wasn't Yama-jii. That would take some adjusting for everyone involved.

"…it has been a long… month," Chōjirō said at last, his expression uncertain. His need to understand what his superior officer wanted drove him to dare actual eye contact with Shunsui.

Good.

He nodded slowly. "It has. And I think the next few will be even longer. The Seireitei isn't showing it, but the Gotei, well… we're damaged. The Central 46 wants me to wave my hand and fix it, but it doesn't work like that, as I'm sure you know."

The point wasn't so much to inform Chōjirō of anything he hadn't already figured out—he was clever enough to have reached all the right conclusions on his own.

The point was to show him that Shunsui preferred to think with company, and that his company counted.

To his credit, Chōjirō didn't take long to catch onto the fact that this was meant to be a conversation, even if he looked more uncomfortable by the second. "No," he said, drawing out the syllable uncertainly. "It doesn't."

"It's not just the lack of officers, either, though that's obviously the biggest problem," Shunsui continued, shuffling a few of the papers around on his desk. He could usually find what he was looking for, but the thing was a mess, and he had to admit that the tedium of it all was making his progress extremely slow. He hated that his office was just his.

"There aren't enough prospective captains, are there?" This was ventured with a little more confidence.

Shunsui shook his head. "No, there aren't."

Chōjirō shifted his weight; it was the first time his posture had deviated from straight-backed rigidity. "I don't want to presume, Sōtaichō, but… might you be about to ask me if I would fill one of those vacancies?"

It was hard not to feel sorry for how awkward that sounded. Like he had to drag the words out of somewhere they were anchored deep in his guts.

Finding the form he was looking for, Shunsui slid it out of the stack to his left and placed it in front of him. Returning his eyes to Chōjirō, he resisted the urge to laugh. It really wasn't that funny, considering the circumstances, but he did look a lot like a very wary mongoose. One that wasn't sure that the snake in front of it was one it could handle.

Shunsui leaned his chin into one of his hands, his outer kimono rustling against his haori as he leaned forward. "Do you want me to ask you that?"

"I will… do my duty to the Gotei 13 to the best of my ability," Chōjirō replied.

Well… that was a rather obvious nonanswer. The funny thing was, it was probably the only kind of answer Yama-jii ever needed out of him.

"I'm sure you will, Chōjirō-san," Shunsui replied. It was clear enough that even though his sworn duty to Yama-jii was gone, he took it seriously enough to extend it to the projects and work that the old man had built his entire life around. Whether he'd do what he was asked to do wasn't a question at all. Whether he should be asked to do certain things was much more open. "But there are a lot of duties that need doing right now. For example, I need someone to make sure the First Division keeps running in as close to the usual way as possible while I focus on rebuilding everything else."

Chōjirō was studying him, now, not oblivious to the implications of his statement. "Then you would have me choose which duty to fulfill?"

Shunsui sighed, straightening slightly in his seat. "Of course I would. Since I know you could do either job, it comes down to which you'd prefer. No one with the skills does as well at something they hate as something they love." At least not in this situation.

The fukutaichō contemplated this for a long moment, eyes falling back to the floor. "Eijisai-dono saved my life," he said. The words were slow again, still dredged up from somewhere uncomfortable—but given the subject, that was unsurprising. "And many others, but… I was trying to stop the flames. To… sacrifice myself for that purpose. But he knocked me aside and did it himself. I have… had difficulty thinking of anything else for two weeks. I'm not sure if that will ease, or if I will spend the rest of my life reminded of it every time I—"

He shook his head. Shunsui remained silent, knowing the pressing wouldn't get him anywhere right now.

"You have succeeded him in his post, and I think that is right." Chōjirō's hands flexed at his sides, balling into fists before loosening again. "It's what he wanted. He believed you were worthy of the position he had once filled, and I can do no less. There are many things about running the First Division that are unique and difficult, and many things about being Sōtaichō that I am not certain it is possible to be prepared for. Though I have never held the office myself, I have been close to it for a very long time. I have insight that I believe may prove helpful to you—and I… request the opportunity to remain and assist you. This division is my home, and more than any other part of the Gotei 13, it is Eijisai-dono's legacy."

Ordinarily, Shunsui would have been tempted to make a joke here, to say something to lighten the mood. But he wasn't oblivious to what it had cost Chōjirō to share those thoughts, and he wouldn't make less of that than it was.

"I'm honored, Chōjirō-san," he said instead, sliding the form he'd taken from the stack all the way across his desk. "That's the fukutaichō appointment form. If you'd fill out your half of it, and have one of the others file it, then I'll be glad to have your help from here on out."

The breath that left the other man was obviously tinged with relief; he promptly bowed deeply at the waist. Shunsui tried not to sigh himself. Chōjirō was a respectable person in a lot of ways, but he could already tell this was going to be… tiring.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, Kyōraku-sōtaichō."

Three weeks after the Battle of Fake Karakura Town

He was already getting tired of holding meetings in his office. The enforced formality of sitting at the big desk while the other person felt obligated to stand clashed with Shunsui's style, and frankly he thought it made most people uneasy. That was understandable, considering that a summons here used to be the kind of thing that mostly meant someone was in trouble. Yama-jii hadn't really held private audiences with anyone except his three most senior captains and presumably the members of his own division.

"Let's take a walk, shall we, Renji-san?" Planting his palms on the wood in front of him, Shunsui pushed himself out of his seat, moving past Renji and heading out the door.

The Sixth's fukutaichō, understandably a bit confused, hesitated for only a moment before following him.

The Sōtaichō's office was on the upper floor of the divisional office building, granting him a rather sweeping view of the Seireitei, or at least a pretty big chunk of it. It was all very… lofty. Not the place to have a discussion as frank as he hoped this one was going to be.

Renji was one of the most straightforward people Shunsui had ever met. It seemed like poor form to handle this in a way that didn't honor that.

It wasn't until they were outside the office building entirely that he spoke, though, allowing his eyes a moment to adjust to the bright light of high noon outdoors. Some of the troops were out in the practice yard, running kidō drills. Genshirō-san looked to be supervising as well as he could, but young shinigami with spells were often more than a little bit difficult to nudge in the right direction. Shunsui didn't bother stifling his smile when a byakurai went wide of the target and left a smoking hole in the fence instead.

From the laugh that Renji quickly turned into a cough, he found it similarly entertaining.

"So, Renji-san. How's progress going towards that goal of yours?" Shunsui asked it in a mild tone of voice, unsurprised to sense the other man stiffen next to him.

"You, uh… you know about that?" he asked. Perhaps he thought he was going to get reprimanded for it, though that was about the furthest thing from the truth.

"I know about a lot of things," Shunsui replied easily. "You can relax, by the way. Wanting to surpass a taichō is a good goal for a fukutaichō to have. It's a pretty good goal for any shinigami to have, really." As long as they went about it without too much venom or violence anyway.

Frankly, even venom and violence had their place.

Renji relaxed slightly, then shrugged. "I dunno. I mean, I kinda stopped thinking about it for a while, what with the war and everything. Not completely, just—other things to worry about, you know? Er—Sōtaichō."

Shunsui folded his hands into his sleeves, dropping back so they were walking more at an even parallel. "You don't have to call me that, Renji-san. You can just talk to me like I'm anyone else."

"Can I?" Renji snorted, sounding skeptical. "I'm not really sure I should."

"Then consider it a personal favor. I prefer it when people just say what they want to say, the way they want to say it." Shunsui arched an eyebrow, but elected not to force the point any further. "You said you worried about other things during the war. What kinds of things were those?"

"Mostly whether or not we were gonna win it?" It came out like a question, which was understandable. The initial query had been extremely vague on purpose, after all. "At least until there was fighting to do. Then I guess it was mostly getting myself and anyone else around out of it alive. That kind of stuff." He paused, brows knitting. It warped the tattoos across his forehead. "Why?"

Shunsui shrugged. "I just wanted to know what kinds of things you prioritized over a goal you've had for a long time. It's important to be able to do that."

"Uh… sure. I guess. Seems kinda like the obvious thing to do, though."

Perhaps to Renji, it did. His priorities were clear, simple, and even logical and dutiful, to a certain extent. But not everyone was capable of looking beyond themselves in that way. And not everyone's first priority had been the success of the mission. In some cases, it was only because success was a background requirement of what they really wanted that they thought much of it at all. Others hadn't even gone that far. Victory was unimportant compared to the method of achieving it.

"And if I were to ask you to become taichō of the Seventh? Would changing your priorities around be the obvious thing to do then, too?"

Renji stopped dead in his tracks, and so Shunsui turned to face him, still smiling. The noise of kidō practice had since faded, but he could still faintly hear the crash of another target falling. Renji looked like he might have been the target—stunned.

"Surely you considered the possibility?" Shunsui continued, the smile inching wider. "You're an experienced officer, well-respected by your division, with bankai, and Byakuya-san agrees that you're ready to lead your own division."

He shook his head slightly at that, almost a double-take. "Wait—he does?"

"He does. I happen to think he's right." Shunsui tilted his head, his had throwing one side of his face into shadow. "It might be harder to keep your goal in sight, in a different division. But it's also a step forward, don't you think?"

"I—yeah, but…" Renji blinked. "Can you give me some time to think about this? I don't think I have an answer for you right now."

He didn't, but Shunsui already knew what the answer was going to be. No skin off his teeth to delay it a bit longer.

"Of course, Renji-san. Take whatever time you need."

Term Dictionary:

Seijin - 聖人 – "Sage." The sages of the C46 don't ever get titled in canon that I know of, so I used the word for sage which corresponds to a holy man or saint, rather than the more academic type of sage, since the whole Soul King/balance thing has religious overtones like whoa. The 40 Sages and 6 judges of C46 are all anonymous, so Shunsui addresses them by title. Somewhat less formally than he should, given his use of –san.

And here we go. I'm kinda informally calling this the Reconstruction Arc, because, well... clearly the ranks are in need of some reconstruction. Most of this first fic will be from Shunsui's POV, though some scenes might get other people if necessary.

Like always, reviews are appreciated, but not at all mandatory.