AN: wow. been a while since i posted here. looks around in curiosity. well, i'm planning on posting chapter four this week, and then returning to my lovely hp fic. it gets lots of love cuz it's got shorter chapters and is easier to right. anyway. love you all, beautiful readers! reviews make me super happy and inspire me (btw) and i hope you enjoy the chapter!
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I woke, dreams stirring at the back of my mind in swirling patterns I wished only to forget.
I dreamed of Hisana.
It wasn't that I didn't love her still. I did. Nor was it that I did not enjoy thinking of her. I
did. It was simply the feelings that thinking of her engendered. I did not want to feel them.
They detracted from my cold mask, the cold mask of uncaring I was currently trying to embrace. Right now I did not care for Renji. I did not care for her and I could not afford to care for Hisana or the careful control would be shattered.
Was it so cowardly to hide behind my coldness?
I tried to ignore that thought also.
It seemed as if the Gotei 13's actions lately were orchestrated to torment and crack my shield and steely façade. But I knew that was not true. That was paranoia and a Kuchiki knew better than to fall victim to such a mental state. A Kuchiki was also supremely skilled at refusing to acknowledge was it was inconvenient to acknowledge. And I was the strongest and most powerful Kuchiki in generations. Such a task was miniscule for me and it slipped easily behind the smooth mask.
Along with everything else. Rukia had stared at me, as unable to believe to two simple words as I was. "W-what?," was her breathy and brief response. It was hitting her even slower than me. But perhaps I was more used to death in battle. "He fell in the fight with Ichimaru." The words were clipped and short, as the words always were with me. No more detail than was necessary, no more words than strictly essential. Perhaps my distraction was why it took me a moment to realize Rukia was growling. "Rukia?" I blinked in surprise, my mind surfacing from the safe edges of emotionless emptiness I'd sunk it in. A constant and steady stream of words flew from her mouth, but just under my range of hearing. Not that it mattered. I was fairly certain of what she must be saying. What was a surprise was when she bolted towards the door, clutching her zanpakutou. I reacted in time, blocking her progress through the door and grasping her shoulders firmly. "I'll kill him!" Her voice was low and savage, echoing strangely in the still air. It was also littered with several other, more colorful words I did not care to remember so well. I sighed. "Rukia. Perhaps I didn't explain myself well enough. Ichimaru is also dead. He and Renji killed each other." Rukia looked up at me, eyes staring into mine. With no other outlet for her anger, the pain was rising into her eyes and tears pricked the edges of her vision. I knew what was coming next. It was a question to which I had no answer.
"Renji's dead." I didn't even notice that I hadn't referred to him by his title. At the time, such things simply didn't matter.
xXx
I was in my office, working quietly as I had done for past decades. Rikichi-fukutaichou sat at his desk in a further corner, scribbling away furiously at the paperwork littered around his desk. I refrained from sighing, as I did so much when in the office. Not only was it highly unprofessional, it also cued Rikichi-fukutaichou to glance at me worriedly. This would be followed by more and more frequent glances and a nervous twitch in his eye. He would start at the slightest sound and then flick yet another worried glance in my direction. It degenerated from that point forward.
I guessed it was because he was afraid of me. I saw no reason for him to be, of course, but it didn't stop the ridiculous sentiment. The hardest part had been getting the fellow to work in my presence at all. If he wasn't completely competent, I would have had him replaced decades ago. The fact was, Rikichi-fukutaichou was extremely good at his job, especially the paperwork. I just wished he didn't look quite so incompetent doing it.
I had managed to, at one point, train him into keeping an immaculate desk. It looked very thorough and nearly as pristine as my own. The downside was that he no longer relaxed in any manner, causing him to either get little work done or simply do it horribly wrong. In a week, he had returned to his previously messy ways and I was not stupid enough to attempt the venture a second time. Better to have a quality lieutenant than one who merely appeared able.
"Rikichi-fukutaichou."
He turned and looked directly into my eyes, confident, for now at least, that he had done nothing inaccurately.
"There have been reports from several patrols in our districts of rumored hollow movement. Possibly attack. I would like you to assemble teams to investigate."
Rikichi-fukutaichou nodded and strolled over to take the paperwork indicating where the sightings had taken place. "Hai, Taichou." He took the papers and returned silently to his desk.
"Rikichi-fukutaichou."
Now he looked up apprehensively, clearly no longer certain that he was perfectly mistake-free.
"I-" I stopped. Started again. Stopped. Considered for a moment. "Tell me your evaluations of the other lieutenants."
He licked his lips nervously, sweat popping on his forehead. "Why? Have I forgotten to do something? Is something wrong?"
Had I not been a Kuchiki, I would have rolled my eyes at his paranoia. Since I was I refrained from drawing attention to his inane assumptions. "No. I simply wished to consider the structure and presentation from other divisions. For maximum efficiency."
There. That sounded perfectly adequate.
Rikichi licked his lips once more, clearly still nervous. "Hai, hai. Well, there are still only nine vice-captains in all since the war. The second division's, Marechiyo-fukutaichou, seems to be a reasonable vice-captain, if an unreasonable individual. It's well-known how little Soi Fon-Taichou cares for her vice, but as long as he still completes his work, she lets him stay. I don't think they work all that well together, but they manage.
"Isane-fukutaichou and Unohana-Taichou are both very close and appear to work together exceedingly well. Of course, it's been argued that's because they don't have to do as much sparring, but there's no real proof of that. Either way, the fourth is one of the best organized divisions, it's true.
"Ise-fukutaichou is the backbone of the eighth division. I don't think anyone would let her leave there for fear that it would fall apart without her, seeing as how she gets the least assistance from her captain of any other division, including Ukitake-Taichou's."
It seemed to be a hint that I couldn't have her as a vice-captain. I was already regretting having asked. Still, perhaps I would indeed learn something useful. Though perhaps not.
"The ninth division's vice-captain is really rather new, but seems to get on well enough with Hisagi-Taichou. Their paperwork is always on time and fighting skills seem to be at least on average with other divisions, so they do all right. I don't know as much about his organizational styles, it's true. They don't talk much."
Rikichi paused, as if uncertain whether that was enough or if I wanted to step in and make a comment. I inclined my head without bothering to reassure him. Generally a waste of time if anything else.
"The tenth division is probably the strangest. Matsumoto-fukutaichou seemed for a long time to do no work, though she got along well with her captain. Then, when her captain neglected the work and the division, she easily slipped in and took over. And as soon as he recovered, she slipped back into doing nothing. There's no real way to measure her competence because she doesn't seem to work her hardest all the time. But she will if she has to." He frowned, as if understanding these things for the first time, if only because he had finally voiced them.
I realized that was probably true.
"Thank you, Rikichi-fukutaichou. That's enough to go on for now." I did not particularly want to endure his clumsy evaluations of the last three divisions. Especially since I'd already heard anything I might have found interesting.
Rikichi stood up and floundered for a few moments. His mouth opened and then shut again. He turned and went back to his desk, apparently relatively confused.
I resisted the urge to shrug and turned back to my own paperwork.
Somehow, it was more exceedingly dull than I had ever recalled it being.
xXx
"Why didn't you do something?! You're a captain! Weren't you even there?!" Suddenly Rukia was beating at my chest, shoving me ineffectually and screaming. The pain was intense and sharp, but I ignored the dizziness caused by my still unhealed wounds. I could handle this. "Why didn't you save him?" Her voice was small and so wounded that for a moment, I couldn't breathe. But I recovered. Each word seem to tear a little deeper. After all, wasn't she right? I am a captain. Why didn't I save him? Why couldn't I succeed where Renji had? Why? I said nothing. There was nothing to say. I had no more answers than she did. Instead, I let her grief spill out over me, onto my emotionless mask. I let the dizziness and pain wash over me. Physical hurt was so much better than the emotions I was burying. And I was a master at showing nothing, appearing to feel nothing, even the physical wounds that had brought me so close to death. It seemed only to make her angrier and then simply very weary. "Don't you even care?," she whispered, voice full of despair. "He was an excellent fukutaichou," I managed at last. "Is that all?" "What else is there?" Not even a change in the modulation of my voice. She stared at me and I could discern nothing from her expression-only loss. She stared for minutes and even I could not recall precisely how long it was. Eventually she pushed me aside and strode out towards the fourth division. Or, more precisely, the cordoned section near fourth division where the retrievable bodies were kept. In all the years following, the conversation never did come up again. Neither of us ever mentioned it. It was the only time Rukia ever struck me.
I scowled, unable to contain the bit of irritation surfacing at the revival of the memories. I did not want to think of the past. I barely wanted to consider the present. Perhaps it was time to actually seek some outside advice. I knew it would not be pleasant. The key was whether or not the unpleasantness might be worth the feedback I would receive.
Perhaps.
Perhaps it was time to visit Ukitake-Taichou.
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