"Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul." -Oscar Wilde (The Picture of Dorian Gray)
Chapter Two: Reconnaissance
It was another bar night in the Rukongai. Renji had lost count of how many times he had met Ikkaku or Rangiku here in the past month. It was becoming a comfortable habit.
He had been released from Fourth Division's hospital nearly three weeks ago but, although his physical wounds had healed, he was still smarting over the loss of Karin. Since the battle at the Academy, he had visited her only once, but he had seen her several times on the Seireitei streets in the company of a certain silver-haired shinigami captain. Each time he had seen her, she had seemed to glow. She was happy, he told himself, and he should be glad for that.
Sake had, yet again, served to dull the heartache. Add to that the occasional barroom fight, and life would be good again. Time to forget and move on to new opportunities.
"Renji, come join us!" Matsumoto called, laughing musically and kicking up her legs. She sat on the bar, sake bottle in one hand, her other hand on the shoulder of Madarame Ikkaku. Renji grabbed a bottle from behind the bar and sat down next to Ikkaku on one of the barstools.
"Started without me, eh?" he said, opening the bottle.
"You'll catch up soon enough," said Rangiku, laughing again and taking a huge swig from the bottle in her hand. Renji followed suit and handed his bottle over to Ikkaku.
"Loud in here tonight," remarked Renji, as Ikkaku chugged down sake.
"New recruits," said Ikkaku, grinning. "Ours."
"New practice dummies for the Eleventh," laughed Renji, noting the gleam in Ikkaku's eyes. "I miss that place sometimes."
"Zaraki-taicho would be more than happy to have you back. Might even let you in on the action," said Ikkaku, in all seriousness. "I've heard there are a few feisty ones in this new lot."
"And which Eleventh Division recruits are tame?" asked Rangiku, throwing back her head and sending her hair flying off her face. "They send all the Academy troublemakers your way."
Renji grabbed the bottle back from Ikkaku. The sound of breaking glass was heard over the din, and a loud cheer erupted from the back of the bar where the Eleventh Division recruits sat. After the noise died down a bit, Renji asked Rangiku, "So, how's the Ice Captain?"
"You mean, how is Karin," replied Matsumoto, not missing a beat. Renji said nothing. "She's fine. Happy."
"You blew it Abarai," laughed Ikkaku, taking the bottle back from Renji. "Dumb ass."
"He did the right thing, idiot" said Matsumoto, kicking Ikkaku hard in the side. "What would you know about it?" Renji motioned to the bartender for another bottle, ignoring them both.
"Saw you with that little Fourth Division hottie the other day," said Ikkaku, grinning lecherously, "looks like your broken heart recovered quickly enough. What's her name? Akiko?"
"Akemi."
"Right. So?"
"So nothing, Ikkaku," replied Renji. "She's nice."
"Nice?" laughed Ikkaku. "You've definitely been at the Sixth too long. Bunch of uptight snobs."
"Better than the screw-ups at the Eleventh. Like you'd even know what a real woman was," replied Renji, eyes narrowed.
Matsumoto rolled her eyes. "It's time," she thought, sighing. "Boys will be boys." It had been a while since the last bar fight.
"At least at the Eleventh, we don't spend all day doing fucking drills. We actually fight." Ikkaku was salivating now.
"You looking for a fight?" asked Renji, his eyes sparkling in anticipation. The sake had done its job. He felt invincible. "As if you Eleventh Division bastards even know how to fight."
Ikkaku stood up. The bar stool he had been sitting on fell to the floor with a crash. Several of the shinigami seated nearby turned to see what the commotion was. "I'll show you how the Eleventh fight!" yelled Ikkaku, swaying slightly on his feet and drawing his zanpakuto. There was mumbling and noise from the Eleventh Division recruits at the back of the bar. Several of them stood up and moved towards Renji and Ikkaku. Rangiku grabbed her bottle of sake and moved off to the side, out of the line of fire. "Grow, Houzukimaru!"
Renji met the tip of Ikkaku's spear with his blade, and the sound of metal upon metal reverberated throughout the bar. "Howl, Zabimaru!" he yelled, releasing his zanpakuto and swinging it in wide arc. By now, all the nearby shinigami had retreated to a safe distance from the two men, with the exception of the Eleventh Division recruits, who had pushed their way in front of the retreating shinigami to get a better view of the fight.
Ikkaku leapt into the air to avoid Renji's swing, hopping up atop the bar and knocking over a number of bottles and glasses in the process. He twirled Houzukimaru around like a baton, forcing Renji to back away towards the wall behind him. The tip of Ikkaku's blade missed Renji's face by an inch. Renji was now backed up against the wall with no room to maneuver.
"Damn," spat Renji, looking around for an opening. Fortunately, he didn't have to look far. From over Ikkaku's shoulder, two Sixth Division shinigami charged into the fray, followed by several of the Eleventh Division recruits.
Ikkaku, momentarily surprised by the onslaught of eager shinigami, swung at Renji and missed, hitting a window and shattering it instantly. Renji launched Zabimaru towards Ikkaku but instead hit the ceiling, cutting into the plaster, which flew in all directions like snow in a blizzard. Ikkaku swung Houzukimaru again, this time creating an opening in the wall where Renji had once stood. Several shinigami ran through the newly-minted opening and Renji followed them out into the empty Rukongai street, where he'd be better positioned to use his weapon to its fullest abilities. Ikkaku followed.
No longer confined to the small bar, Renji launched Zabimaru skyward and it flew, extending as it moved, towards Ikkaku. Ikkaku smiled broadly and flung his weapon towards Renji as he moved to dodge the attack. Houzukimaru hit its mark, and Renji felt a stab of pain in his shoulder.
"You're losing your touch, Abarai," jeered Ikkaku as Renji swore under his breath. "You always do when you lose the girl. You're soft."
Renji growled in annoyance and threw Zabimaru again. Ikkaku deftly countered the attack by stepping back several feet and ducking at the last moment. Renji's zanpakuto hit the already damaged wall of the building, and the rest of the wall crumbled into a cloud of bricks and dust. The shinigami who fought inside spilled out onto the street.
"Hit a nerve?" taunted Ikkaku, grinning broadly and swinging his weapon again. This time, Renji was ready. He swung Zabimaru in a wide circle around where Ikkaku stood and then, as the circle was nearly complete, pulled back on the hilt of his weapon. His legs wrenched from underneath him, Ikkaku fell hard onto the dusty street, where he lay, face up, laughing and coughing intermittently.
"That makes us even, Ikkaku," Renji laughed, wiping the dust from his face. "You paying for the next round?"
"In your dreams, Abarai," Ikkaku said, getting to his feet and putting his weapon away. "Besides," he added, gesturing towards what had once been the bar, "it doesn't look like there are any tables available." Renji sheathed his zanpakuto, looking around to find Rangiku, who had all but vanished in the melee. He felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Rangiku," Renji started to say, turning around, "I think we…" But any thought as to where they might look for more sake was replaced by the pain of a hard fist as it met the side of his face. The force of the blow knocked him off his feet. He landed, face down on the street, his head spinning slightly from the punch and the sake. Everything was blurry.
"Damn," he said, rubbing his chin and sitting up, "that hurt."
"Nothing your sorry ass didn't deserve," came a woman's voice from overhead.
"A woman?" he thought. "She packs one hell of a mean punch." Renji rubbed his eyes, willing her face into focus. He stood up slowly, one hand leaning on what was left of the brick wall for support. He stood facing her, squinting slightly. Gradually, his hazy vision began to clear.
She was nearly his height, attractive, with dark eyes and pale skin, wearing a black shihakushou, zanpakuto at her side. Her shoulder-length black hair was layered, sticking out in random places like so many small spikes. She frowned at him, eyes narrowed, clearly ready to fight.
Her face reminded Renji of someone he had known years ago. He stared at her, willing himself to remember where he had seen her before. And then it came to him, the realization almost as jarring as the impact of her fist on his chin. It wasn't just that she reminded him of someone; he knew that face. He was sure of it. He looked at her with an expression of shock and surprise.
"Arisawa Tatsuki?" he said, trying to make sense of things.
"Yeah," she said, looking back at him like he had lost his mind. "And who the hell are you?"