Author's Note: Hello again! Sorry it took so long for me to put up this next chapter. Over the past two weeks, both my beta reader and myself were afflicted with horrible illnesses and rendered incapable of anything but being sick chickens. Blah. Anyway, I'm aware that not much happens in this chapter, but hey, some of this stuff's just gotta get said. ALSO thanks to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter. That was very nice of you. It's exciting for me to know that people whom I do not know personally are reading my things, because that usually doesn't happen, so thanks again! :)
Disclaimer: Bleach is not mine.
Warnings: A bit of off-color language here, but like, once. Nothing else, really.
CHAPTER II
"Great. That is great."
Ukitake smiled broadly and held one long, white arm high in the air, his sleeve falling down and pooling around his elbow. After a few moments in this position, he snapped his fingers with a loud, dramatic pop that echoed through the cavernous interior of the Senzaikyu. On the floor, though Gin hardly noticed it at first, a tiny green light on the left end of the little rounded recorder went on at Ukitake's gesture.
"On loan from the Twelfth Squad. Pretty neat, yeah? I've been looking forward to doing that all morning."
"It's alright."
The smile awkwardly twitched away from Ukitake's face.
"Anyway, you can start wherever you want, so what do you want to talk about?"
Gin rolled his eyes back to make a thinking face as ideas began pouring into his skull, though he batted them away almost as quickly as they appeared. For now, Aizen was out of the question, though he figured he would have to get around to him at some point. Izuru Kira, too, but for different reasons, would not become a topic of discussion. Even Matsumoto—though he readily admitted she was his reason for doing this—was swatted out of his brainpan. With her went most of his childhood—or, the interesting parts anyway. The other parts of his childhood in the Rukongai, his brief time in the academy, wandering Hueco Mundo, Las Noches, the war—he couldn't possibly talk about them. Gin was sure no one would want to hear those stories, and he felt like he could barely remember them enough to discuss anyway.
After a little while, Gin realized he was making a mental list of everything he was not going to talk about. A dull pain was starting to blossom in his forehead. Gin suddenly felt like a child dared to jump off a tall, sheer cliff into the swirling ocean hundreds of feet below. He was almost fine with the challenge—until he put his toes to the cliff's edge and peered over into the water. His heart began to pound so heavily that he could feel it twitch oddly in his chest. Pressure was rising slowly in his throat and painfully, he swallowed it back down.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah." Gin coughed and cleared his throat. "I'm fine."
Ukitake narrowed his eyes.
"If I may make an observation, you look absolutely terrible."
"So do you."
"But seriously." The captain lowered his voice. "What have they done to you?"
"Who is 'they'?"
"The guards here, the Central Forty-Six, anyone."
Gin gave a hollow laugh—more like a sharp breath than anything with humor behind it. For a moment, he was sure Ukitake was asking about his time under… The captive shrugged, his bony shoulders digging uncomfortably into the wall with this slight movement.
"They've done nothing, really."
He turned to look out the window. It had only been an hour or two since Ukitake came in, but it felt like much longer. Outside, the sun was still high in the nearly cloudless sky and Seireitei sparkled neatly in the late morning.
"You can't expect me to believe that-"
"Why are you trying to be so nice to me?"
"What?"
The expression on Ukitake's face approached one of genuine surprise before doubling back and settling on neutral.
"You heard me. The whole time I've been in here, the only nice person I've met was the short guard out there, umm, Kida, Kuro, Kyo, something like that—and the first thing he did when he met me was try to punch me in the neck… and now you're wondering how I'm feeling?"
"Gin," Ukitake began, his tone low and stern. In a swift motion, Ukitake snapped his long fingers over the recorder and the light went dead. It momentarily dawned on Gin how odd it sounded to have his former colleague address him by his given name before he realized what the Captain was doing. "Listen to me. I can tell that no matter what sorts of questions I ask you, you won't say anything today that my bosses are interested in hearing, and I've been told to bring something back every time I'm here. I'm assuming it's understood that you need to talk, and you are expected to discuss a few… choice incidents. You know you have no choice."
Gin inhaled slowly.
"Right."
"So now we both have a job to do, and I'm trying to make yours easy on you. I'll prompt you, you'll discuss, and I'll leave you alone until Wednesday morning. Okay?"
Nearly frowning, Gin slumped in his seat. He could see Ukitake's idea, and he was grateful for it, but all of the kindness was almost too much for him to handle. In the Soul Society, pre-defection, he had always been something of an outcast. Even in Hueco Mundo, those with whom he worked tended treat him with either annoyance or fear more than anything. There were generally few exceptions to this rule.
"Okay." Gin said, his voice cracking slightly on the second syllable. The left corner of Ukitake's mouth perked up in a little half-smile at Gin's response.
"Good boy." He whispered, snapping his fingers again over the recorder. When the light blinked green, Ukitake cleared his throat. "So, what has it been like here? I can't imagine you're enjoying yourself."
He nodded at Gin, who turned to face the window, thinking for a second as he examined his reflection against that of the white-haired captain and the stone walls in the glass.
"I'm not." Gin took a deep breath. Suddenly, he felt as though words would spill from his mouth like a fountain, but he stopped himself. He was testing the waters. He knew if he jumped right in, he would regret it moments after. "I'm exhausted."
A pause. Gin could feel his face flush and he splayed his hand over it; thin fingers bent to just brush his lower eyelids.
"I can barely walk I'm so tired, and even if I could, it wouldn't make a difference because they've kept me chained up right here for a while now."
Gin could see Ukitake nodding and looking down at the recorder, his hair hanging heavily over his shoulders.
"Ukitake."
"Yes?"
"I'm done talking about this. I'm bored to tears here already, and talking about it is making me even more so… aww hell."
Gin's sentence was punctuated by another low growl from his innards.
"That doesn't sound very good."
"Oh no, it's not." Sighing, the prisoner dangled one leg off of the ledge, the chain on his ankle clinking loudly as his pale toes touched the dusty floor.
"Are you sick?"
"I'm starving."
"Oh."
"It's been almost a week since they've fed me."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"It's because I scare them."
Ukitake raked his hair back with his fingers and gave Gin a small, sad smile. They both knew that Gin's assertion was mostly true. The captain coughed. The former captain shifted on his ledge. For a long time, the recorder picked up nothing but the rustle of clothing and the light breathing of the two men.
"This should be enough for today." Ukitake said finally, snapping his fingers again and picking up the recorder off of the floor. "I'm coming back on Wednesday, okay? You know what you have to do."
"Yeah, yeah."
Gin waved a floppy hand at the Captain, who stood up and slung his purple bag over his shoulder.
"Gin."
Gin looked up. Ukitake stood behind his half-folded chair, one hand on the back-rest, one on the edge of the seat. His face was tilted downwards and his white hair once again dangled like icicles around it. The angle made him look vaguely threatening. Vaguely.
"Mmm?"
"Remember, okay?"
"Yeah."
A few moments later, the guards had opened the door, fussed over the Captain and his terribly folded chair, and begun to shut the door once again. As the open threshold grew smaller, something tumbled through the gears in Gin's head before settling down by his chained foot.
"Aw shit, the chain!" the captive called, but by the time the last syllable left his mouth, the door had long been shut, leaving him alone in his gray tower.
Captain Ukitake could have said he had never been happier to be out in the sunlight, but he would have been lying—there was nothing like getting over a good bout of bloody, phlegmy lung disease to make a man appreciate the outdoors.
Second to that, however, was the Senzaikyu—that needlessly huge, unnecessarily foreboding fortress strategically placed at the center of the labyrinthine city. It was almost medieval in its purpose and it seemed as haunted as it could possibly be given its geography in the afterlife. It was almost undeniably engineered to have this effect on all who entered it, right now to the very material from which it was constructed. With Ichimaru inside it, the effect was even worse.
Hurrying across the gangway, Ukitake tried to appear as though he was keeping his cool, but this became impossible the moment Kiyone Kotetsu and Sentaro Kotsubaki tumbled from behind a bush at the foot of the bridge, almost toppling their Captain as they did so.
"Captain Ukitake!"
"Captain Ukitake!"
"Ohh... Hello!" Ukitake said brightly, raising a hand in both a gesture of greeting and a way of keeping himself balanced. Kiyone reached out to grab his hand, but before she could make contact, Ukitake had steadied himself.
"Captain! The Captain-Commander wishes to see you immediately!"
"Captain! Captain Yamamoto wishes to see you immediately!"
Kiyone and Sentaro turned and nearly growled at each other. Ukitake was sure he saw a tiny bolt of lightning bridge the gap between their eyes.
"Captain, I was…" began Kiyone in a tone just slightly louder than was natural.
"Captain Ukitake, you…" Sentaro shouted at nearly the same time, cutting his co-third seat off as she did the same to him. They glared at each other again.
As calmly as he could, Ukitake smiled and placed his hands on his subordinates' shoulders, causing both to suddenly ease up and turn towards him.
"You two…" he began softly. They were almost cute when they fawned over him, and he felt bad doing this, but the question had to be asked. "How long did you spend waiting for me in that bush?"
Kiyone instantly looked to her feet, while Sentaro took interest in something a few feet above their heads. Ukitake gently patted them both on the back.
"I figured as much."
"Captain!"
"Captain!"
Ukitake removed his hands and took a step back.
"No, no, it's fine. What were you supposed to be doing?"
There was a long pause.
"Paperwork."
"Paperwork."
"I'll see you two later, then." The Captain gently turned them both around and gave them each a slight push forward. Kiyone turned for a moment and peered over her shoulder, but said nothing, before both she and Sentaro shunpo'd out of sight. Ukitake coughed quietly, though the smile remained on his face. His third-seats were a bit much for him at times, but he knew that they meant well. In his head, Ukitake turned over the message it took both Kiyone and Sentaro to deliver. More tired than he should be but nearly positive of what the Captain-Commander wanted, he finally convinced himself to set off towards the First Squad barracks.
As his flash-steps carried him across the rooftops of Seireitei, Ukitake gently bounced his purple bag on his shoulder. A birthday gift from Kyoraku a few years earlier, the little satchel supposedly made its contents feel twenty percent lighter, and whether this was true or not, Ukitake was willing to believe it—whenever he used it, the disparity in weight made him feel as if he were forgetting something. By the time he stopped before the imposing front gates to the barracks, however, Ukitake was certain that he had, in fact, remembered to collect the recorder from the floor of the Senzaikyu. Quickly, he pushed open the door and slipped into the well-lit entrance hall.
The front room of the barracks possessed the atmosphere one would expect in the front room of the very fancy home of some very fancy person. Ukitake walked through the foyer into the hall where the captains' meetings were held, now almost eerie in its emptiness, before following a thin hallway to the Old Man's office.
"Hello?"
Ukitake raised his hand and rapped on the wooden door. From behind it, he could hear the Captain Commander's low, rumbling voice, followed by the less low, less rumbling voice of his lieutenant. Ukitake knocked again.
"Hello! Sorry, it's-"
The door opened a crack before Ukitake could finish his sentence. Through the tiny opening, he could just barely make out the golden eye of Lieutenant Sasakibe peering back at him.
More mumbling. Ukitake sighed and began to twist his feet on the perfectly polished floor, though the door slid open all the way before he could break out into a full dance routine. Quickly, Captain Ukitake snapped to attention.
"Uh, Captain… you wished to see me?"
Yamamoto nodded and motioned for the younger man to enter the wide, low-ceilinged office. Ukitake took a few steps forward and stopped at the desk that occupied the center of the room, almost afraid to breathe for fear of accidently scattering the papers that lay in messy piles about every visible flat surface. Sasakibe slid the door shut behind him.
Yamamoto did not look up from what he was doing.
"Juushiro, sit down. I don't have much time to talk."
Ukitake did as he was told, pulling up one of the straight-backed wooden chairs that sat opposite the old man.
"I gather you have just returned from speaking to the prisoner?"
"Yes, sir." Ukitake began, slowly loosening the mouth of the purple bag. "I have the tape right here."
"Excellent." Yamamoto, still not looking at anything but the form in front of him, extended his arm across the desk. Ukitake withdrew the rounded recorder and fiddled with the buttons until it spat out a little tape—the 'blank' reel significantly more full than the recorded one. Only when Ukitake placed it in Yamamoto's hand did he glance up from his form.
"He was more cooperative than expected, though I'm afraid he still appears to be warming up to me."
"Yes, yes. Sasakibe."
'Yes, sir."
Sasakibe moved from where he had been standing by the door to Yamamoto's desk. The old man placed the tape directly into his Lieutenant's outstretched palm, saying something to him in a voice so low that three feet away, Ukitake could not make it out. A few moments later, Sasakibe left the office with the tape in his hand.
"So you say the criminal will not yet speak?"
"Not entirely. He has consented to the ongoing interview, he just needs time."
"For now, you have that."
"For now?"
Yamamoto looked the younger Captain directly in the eye, but said nothing. Ukitake nodded and tried to push the words from his mind, though he was still not entirely sure what the old man meant.
"Juushiro, I will be expecting a second tape by Wednesday evening."
"Yes, sir." Ukitake said quietly as he stood up and made his way to the sliding door. Ukitake was almost sure that by Wednesday, Ichimaru would be more likely to actively be constructing an escape tunnel through the floor of the Senzaikyu than be willing to tell stories, but the Thirteenth Squad Captain kept his thoughts to himself.