2. The Deal

2.1

Working was supposed to make him feel better. It didn't. Meshed reiatsu of his subordinates stunk of despair, and he had nothing encouraging to say. Just to do something Shuuhei took one of the old shinigami ways of fixing problems and ordered fancy food for the whole division. He was going to file it later under the recreational expenses and the pesky girls from the Gotei 13 budget committee wouldn't say a word. He was free from the need to follow Tousen's cheapskate strategies and, after a brief consideration, he ordered alcohol as well. He would never get close to the Eleventh division's alcohol spendings, so no one would care anyway. To his surprise the cloud of gloom shrunk a bit, but his own problems laughed at his lame efforts.

Shuuhei had two. They were fighting inside his head for the territory, while he was trying to push both of them out. "You can't do it, you know," Yumichika-in-his-head told him. "You," he pointed at Tousen-in-his-head, "Fuck off." After that friendly prelude, Tousen-in-his-head, and his justice-honor-duty mantra, complied, leaving him alone with Yumichika's intrusion. Someday, he might forgive the incident, even if it were a planned one, but not Yumichika's casual move into his thoughts. And he wouldn't even go into the highly disturbing and infuriating circumstances under which Yumichika discarded his family name on the day before.

He stood under the cold shower until he felt nothing. Blissful numbness lasted while he walked through his division, quiet in the evening, but when he reached his office, his anger promptly kicked back doubled. He couldn't recall sending any invitations, but Yumichika was sitting in one of the visitor chairs and his feet were up on the other one. The bastard entertained himself folding a piece of paper.

"Couldn't you wait outside?"

"Don't keep your windows open. Why would I wait outside, if I can get in?"

He could swear the windows were closed.

"Because it's my office."

"Oh." Yumichika shifted the attention back to the paper in his hands. "You might be right, one is not supposed to come inside, it's considered rather impolite, but occasionally that happens. My apologies."

Shuuhei stared. These were not apologies.

"Whatever you're thinking now is a bad idea," added Yumichika.

"Is that so?"

"Uncontrolled violence leads to regrettable accidents. I'm not interested in accidents and you're in no condition to be nice."

Shuuhei thought that his attempt to grab Yumichika's hair and smash his head against the desk edge would have been blocked and taking the circumstances into account they might end up on the floor having an accident. His own mind and body conspired against him, but if he couldn't trust them, whom in the whole world could he trust? "Expect trust issues," he had been told in the Forth. "It's normal." Right, it was just as normal as this feathered thing in front of him.

"And what are you interested in? Setups?"

Yumichika's reiatsu jumped to the full battle mode then gradually dropped. Shuuhei could nearly hear the countdown. He got it right, it had been a setup from the very beginning.

"See, you're not nice."

"Being nice to you is the last thing on the list of my priorities." He went around the desk and took his own chair. At least he was still able to be three steps ahead of the events. Good. "So, why are you here, Yumichika?" he asked and froze realizing his slip. For a split second he hoped it would go unnoticed, but the bastard's smug smile, that appeared as if a switch had been flipped, crushed that hope.

"I'm curious why you don't want a rematch."

As long as it was not about the name, he could deal with it. "Should I?"

"It's obvious." Yumichika finished folding his origami and was bouncing a paper ball from one hand to the other. "I don't want to appear overly critical, but even though I made it to the list of your priorities, your life is still boring."

"Huh?"

"This used to be your to do list. I read it."

He caught the ball flying across the table towards his head on reflex. Now it was his turn to shoot angry reiatsu up the sky and bring in back under control, regretting he hadn't taken the head-smashing route.

"I want to smash your head against the desk edge a few times and see a pool of blood. How is that for a new entry?"

Yumichika beamed back. "Marvelous! I accept!"

"What?"

"After some minor editing your offer will become quite feasible."

"My offer? Feasible?" The words of his zanpakutou came to his mind and the whole crazy idea suddenly became feasible indeed. At the very least it would get him something to do.

"Feasible." Yumichika repeated with conviction, getting up and heading for the door. "See you tomorrow."

He still could back off from this dare, couldn't he? Sure, he could always surrender to his weakness, become an easy target, and kiss his self-esteem good bye. Yumichika caught him good. Well, the sneaky bastard was going to regret it very much. He threw the paper ball Yumichika had folded into the wastebasket.

Then he had second thoughts. He would keep the ball for the time being as a reminder for his resolve.

How the hell did he make this stupid thing anyway?

2.2

Yumichika didn't go far, he stopped at Hitsugaya's pond in front of the Tenth division. The day was almost over and he wanted to sort his loot. He spread the writing samples he had pocketed on the bench and made a quick comparison. The contents was of no interest, the handwriting was. Then he held the fan of reports in front of him.

"What a mess. Can anyone explain what makes it my problem?" His improvised fan had no answer. He was lucky Shuuhei hadn't thrown him out of the window without listening to a single word. "I thought so. Well, forgive me for interrupting your suffering."

Yumichika folded the stolen reports together. The confident guy who wrote them no longer than two weeks ago would have been much easier to get. He would have never called Yumichika by name, being so sweetly mortified by that. He might have gone as far as to push Yumichika against the wall on the very next day demanding the answers. And the lack of complexity would have been so off-putting that the mere thought of it was making him yawn.

"Three days," he promised, addressing the pond. There was no reason to rush, and he was kind enough to recognize Shuuhei's need to sulk. "Then he'll be all mine," he informed the sun setting behind the roofs.

In the Eleventh division executive party room Yachiru and Ikkaku were playing go. Usually Yumichika would at least look at the board to check who's winning, but this time he took his own futon out of the wall closet, threw it on the floor next to Ikkaku's, and collapsed on top of it.

"What a day!"

"You look good." A second later Yachiru was tickling Yumichika's ribs, making him to turn and face her. "You look good," she repeated. "Have you done anything bad?"

"Let's see... Breaking and entering. Perlustration. Theft. Then I was caught."

"WOW! You've been a really bad boy." Yachiru's brows went up as she felt that her target tickling spots were protected by papers. "But Yumi, why did you want to get caught?"

"Well, I had to do the interrogation too." He pressed a finger to her nose, "Beep."

Yachiru laughed.

Ikkaku frowned. "I woulda beaten your shiny ass black and blue. Does anything you preach about privacy ever apply to you?"

"Sure. I'm not sharing my findings with you, for instance." Yumichika innocently smiled back. "So everything private remains perfectly private."

"Asshole!" That was all Ikkaku had to say to him for now. "Yachiru, you drop the game, you lose the game."

She reluctantly let go of Yumichika's clothes and went back to the board.

Ikkaku was annoyingly quiet for the rest of the evening, and after Zaraki finally retrieved Yachiru for their sweet good night ritual, he settled back on his futon and pressed for the answers.

"He told you to take a hike, right? Finally someone smart enough."

"Quite the opposite. He made an offer I couldn't possibly refuse. Not in a million years."

"Yeah, I know these offers. I say I might grab a bite and next thing I know I'm feeding you in the most fancy place around."

"You don't really expect me to poison myself at some rundown ramen stand, do you?"

"Ramen stands save lives!"

"Alcoholic!"

"Asshole! So it was good?"

"Yep. He sniffed, and I only counted these long honest sniffs, at least five times, like I was..." Yumichika paused, trying to nail down the right image.

Ikkaku raised a brow. "A daisy?"

Mentioning a daisy could get Ikkaku either a wet kiss or an elbow in the ribs. Not this time.

"Food," Yumichika giggled and his giggles smoothly continued into hysterical laughter. Ikkaku had been thinking about food way too much.

"You're losing screws faster than you flash. Who's the fucker? They're gonna lock you up down in the Fourth and I'll have to kill someone for a warm up."

"I think your answers will show up tomorrow." Yumichika managed to say between laughs and rolled over to Ikkaku's side. "But then again, they might not," he added deviously.

"Just don't start kissing me, save them, will you?"

"Good thinking, Ikkaku!" Yumichika was generous. "I'm impressed."

"Hey, can I guess?"

2.3

Shuuhei saw Ikkaku as soon as he entered the Eleventh division main courtyard. Ikkaku was relaxing on the gallery floor, enjoying the sunshine and doing absolutely nothing. Work? What work? Well, he was not working either.

"Hey, Hisagi, business or pleasure?" Ikkaku yawned, stretched, and moved to the shadows.

Shuuhei was not surprised by the question. They met each other quite frequently at the quarterly budget meetings that without the two of them might look like a subset of the Women Shinigami Association. It was that sort of a bonding experience that required an immediate alcohol fix as soon as the meetings were over. Most of the times Ikkaku was getting his guts chewed by the pretty dragons for improper funds allocation as they put it. "You're stuck with me, girls," Ikkaku roared back. "Taichou wouldn't do it, fukutaichou can live without more sugar, and you'd be out of your minds, if you wanna see Yumichika spending three monthly division budgets in one day again." The dragons were pacified automagically until the next meeting. But when Shuuhei asked later how it was possible to spend that much money in one day, Ikkaku, sloshed as he was, refused to let him in on the division secret.

Naturally, Ikkaku had all the reasons to assume he came to talk business.

"Yumichika."

"Yumichika? Fuck! I coulda figured it!" Ikkaku slammed both fists into the floor. Hard. "It coulda never been the Sixth! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! One day I'm gonna wring his skinny neck! I swear I will! Someday."

"Huh?"

Ikkaku got to his feet, shook the non-existing dust off and did his best to look formal. "I want a favor from you," he said in a low voice.

"A favor?"

"Couldn't hear it the first time?" Ikkaku's formality was short living, but making a point took precedence. "Anyway. Try not to lose too fast, that's it. I mean, I'm not asking for a week, I'm being reasonable here. Five days, huh?"

"What? That's the favor? I've got no intention to lose, I'll beat him and that will be the end of it. Nothing to be so excited about."

"Well, if you say so, then of course. Good luck." Ikkaku sighed and pointed at the entrance, "Follow the orange line."

Shuuhei did as he was told, he followed a thick, but worn out orange line painted on the floor. Small marks on both sides of the line indicated the direction. When he walked through the whole division to the end of it, he saw Yumichika and Ikkaku's office with the door wide open in front of him and the main entrance to his right.

Inside, Yumichika was struggling to close the window with one hand. In the other hand he was holding a large steaming teapot.

"What the hell is this orange line?" Shuuhei asked. Skipping the greetings was becoming a tradition.

"That's Ikkaku's optimal path to this room. He walks it every morning," explained Yumichika after the window had been defeated, motioning Shuuhei in and closing the door. "With all the stops, he makes it in about twenty six minutes, as opposed to four minutes and forty seconds that you spent. You took a shortcut."

All pranksters go to hell. Someday.

"Ikkaku's path was so optimal, it crossed itself," he said with all the sarcasm he could summon.

"Oh, right. Obviously, Ikkaku cannot visit the bathroom while carrying our breakfast. Have you noticed other lines?" Yumichika asked, pouring the tea for both of them. "If you know the color code, you can reach all the major destinations fast, even if you're brain dead. Have a cookie."

Shuuhei took a cookie and looked around the office. It was not any messier than his own, but it felt more like a home. Flowers, maps, pictures on the walls that were telling him the division's story, a comfy couch. A warm and cozy place to be in. Too warm to stay focused for long.

"And what color is your line?"

"I don't walk these lines, I decide where to draw them."

Yumichika's cheerful arrogance reminded him the purpose of his visit. Shuuhei was here not for the tea and cookies, though he had to admit the cookies were good. Too good.

"I want to beat your shikai."

"What? My shikai?"

Shuuhei spend a good part of the night, figuring out Yumichika's shikai. Weird sensations aside, it was still a kidou trick. Even if he had failed to solve it in real time, he could dissect it, analyze every part just the way they teach in the Academy, and come up with the right answers. Well, at least with some of them.

"I mean no offence, but that non-kidou of yours was short of..." he paused, pretending to search his mind for a better word. "Boring," he finished.

"I find the process extremely invigorating, of course, but you're a hundred years too early."

"If you back off, I won't hold it against you," Shuuhei said mildly and smiled. "Well, that was an easy one," he added when Yumichika failed to produce an answer within ten seconds. Then he put the cup on the desk, "Thanks for the tea, it was delicious."

At the moment Shuuhei honestly believed that if he were to get up and leave, Yumichika and his empty threats would leave his mind just as easily. His disappointment would send this guy that took residence in his head flying across the sky into nothingness where he belonged.

Just like that. Easy.

"Very well," Yumichika said slowly. "You get sick of trying and stop, and the victory is mine."

"Deal."

Yumichka put his own cup next to Shuuhei's and continued, "I'm glad you like it, it's Kuchiki's best."

"How did you get it?"

"Renji lost a bet."

"I'm asking why it was hot when I got here."

"Ikkaku lost a bet."

It was decided. He wouldn't bet with Yumichika to save his life. Never. To be absolutely sure, Shuuhei swore twice and only then let himself to break eye contact. He looked up at the ridiculous feathers, noted the extra effort applied to the hair, and reached for another cookie.

The cookies were damn fine.

2.4

The worst thing about the whole Aizen's incident was the drastic change in everyone Iba had known for years, from his current captain to his old captain. Captain Zaraki ran around faster than Yachiru, spilling his excited reiatsu all over the city, scaring everyone. On the other side of Seireitei, Captain Komamura spent his days between staring into space and ranting. For a couple of times Hisagi joined Komamura at the grave of Tousen's friend and they stared into space together. To Hisagi's credit he was not beyond staying clear of Komamura, but for Iba it was not an option. He was so fed up with the rant and staring that he almost envied Hisagi for being left alone. It was not a problem, he reminded himself, it was a minor inconvenience and eventually everyone would be back to normal.

Iba knew what to do with minor inconveniences.

His first drinking buddy of choice looked panicked when he saw Iba at his door. Just out of curiosity Iba waited for at least half a minute before Renji noticed him.

"Can't talk right now, can't go anywhere, got work to do," Renji twittered, repeatedly blinking. "He's... he's..." Renji pointed in the direction of his captain's office and lowered his voice so that Iba could barely hear him. "I thought we were getting along okay while at the Fourth, but now it's hell. I think he's looking for a chance to get rid of me..."

"Umm..."

He found his second drinking buddy in the Eleventh division executive party room, cross-eyed.

"Not today, man, I'm busy." Ikkaku didn't even turn his head upon realizing he wasn't alone.

"You don't look too busy."

"I'm thinking, okay?"

"Umm..."

It must have been truly the end of the world waiting around the corner, if Ikkaku was busy thinking. Usually, Yumichika did all the thinking and Ikkaku took care of the bills. Speaking of the devil, Yumichika was having fun harassing subordinates right around the corner, in the courtyard.

"Iba-kun! I've been missing you so much," sang Yumichika, flashstepping down to Iba. "Wanted to get drunk tonight and Ikkaku refused your advances? Don't hold a grudge against him, he had a stressful revelation this morning. Can I go with you instead? I'll behave. Maybe."

Imagining what would happen if he brought Yumichika along, glowing like Yachiru who's just sliced a hollow without dropping any candies out of the pockets, was disturbing. Chances were Hisagi would never speak to him again. Who would?

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'd better drink home alone and in the dark."

"Come on, it will be fun. Scared that I'd embarrass you? But of course, that's why it will be so much fun. I promise."

At least, Yumichika was not embarrassing him right now, for the courtyard miraculously emptied as soon as Yumichika switched his attention to Iba. No spectators, no embarrassment. Sort of.

"What part of 'no' don't you understand?"

"You are so tense, Iba, it's painful to watch. You should really find someone to work on your muscle knots. How about a bet?"

"I said, forget it."

The last lost bet led to the drinking contest, and he had no recollection of the events that caused him to wake up in Renji's bed. That was frustrating. Luckily, Renji was still out unconscious and that was the only reason why Yumichika escaped painful death. Sure, everyone was stoned, but what if it hadn't been Renji's bed? Yeah, dream on.

Yumichika's laughter was more disturbing than usual, but while walking towards the Ninth, Iba considered the annoying spacing out problem again. Maybe he should have taken Yumichika along. Yumichika's jokes were damn funny when they were directed at someone else.

His third drinking buddy was holding admirably through the most of the evening.

"Thanks for not mentioning any recent shit. Everyone else just can't shut up about it. Well, almost everyone."

"We don't talk shit. We beat it out or drown it in sake." Iba waived the cup where all the shit of the world can be supposedly drown in front of Hisagi's nose. Hisagi still looked unconvinced. "Once the Eleventh, always the Eleventh," added Iba. It always explained everything, too bad one had actually be the Eleventh to get it.

Hisagi rolled his eyes, reciting, "I'm not the Eleventh, I won't get it. I've heard it all."

Less booze and Iba would agree, more booze and Iba wouldn't care, just enough and Iba felt like talking. "Listen, shit happens, we live on, that's good enough. What else do you need?"

"Right."

Right. Sidewalk pebbles were more receptive. Damn. He was not cut out for the talks like this. He watched Hisagi twitching and then trying to reach his own back and fix something there. "Fell asleep in a chair yesterday," Hisagi explained.

"Maybe you need..." and Iba stopped, realizing what was wrong with Yumichika's words. Usually Yumichika would offer a back rub, but this time he advised to go and find someone else. Iba had always thought it was not to be taken seriously, so he never had. And now it was not there any longer, withdrawn. Just like that, go and find someone else. Shit. Was there ever a real offer?

Iba couldn't tell.

"Hey, I could hook you up with a chick who's way hotter than Matsumoto. Huh? Wanna steady girlfriend? Well, she's got friends that are actually nice..."

"Spare me, would you?"

For some time they drank in silence. Perhaps he shouldn't have brought up Matsumoto, even when panicked.

"I was told once that 99 percent of all problems can be solved with sex, alcohol, and controlled violence. The trick is to figure out the right mixture of the three."

"What happens to the remaining one?"

"It's preposterous to assume that your problems fall into the remaining one."

"Preposterous?"

"That's what I was told. Anyway, man, this shit really works." Iba slammed his bottle against the table. He finally spotted a spec of interest in Hisagi's eyes and felt like he was finally taking the right road. "Wanna example?" And Iba, having all the encouragement he needed, continued on. "A week ago. You think I was thrilled to stand up to Ikkaku? You think he liked it any better? So we added booze to the mix. And while Yumichika was fucking you, we fought and drank, then fought again and then drank some more. And when the shit cleared up, we didn't have to kill each other any longer. Got it? It doesn't mean we held back though, but that's different. I know he woulda... are you fucking listening?"

"He didn't fuck me... I think."

Iba thought it was time for more sake.