Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

Translator's note: the arcane honorific 'no-kimi' (even more arcane than -dono) indicates an enormous level of respect; even more than -sama. It is roughly equivalent to "your lordship" in English parlance.

Author's note: This chapter contains content that some may consider inflammatory. The intent is to tell a story from multiple viewpoints, even those that I personally disagree with. So don't read into anything too much - I do not intend this story to be political in any way, just merely representative of real-life differences of opinion. Thanks. -njx

"Sorry, buddy, but I could never date a girl whose sword is bigger than mine."
~Shiba Pancho, of the infamous Shiba Triplets

Tatsuki considered herself strictly hetero, but when she saw Rukia come through the senkai gate into the hospital wing, she began to wonder if she should reconsider.

It was clear that Rukia was entirely ready to skip dinner and a movie; she looked absolutely killer. Rukia was wearing a shimmery, silky red haltertop and an ultra-short black spandex miniskirt, with open-toed stillettos that in most circles were known as 'fuck me' shoes. Her nails on fingers and toes were all painted a bright red to match her top - and the last time Rukia had painted her nails was probably at her wedding ten years ago. The clincher, though, was Rukia's hair. Her bangs had been slicked over to the side, which for Rukia might have well been a completely new hairstyle, and the last centimeter of her hair had been dyed scarlet red to match.

The oncology nurse and full-fledged member of Division Black took a deep breath to calm herself. Tatsuki was getting excited just looking at the shinigami guest. It's a good thing Rukia was married, Tatsuki kidded herself, or I might have to pinch her butt.

Normally, Rukia would never be seen anywhere like that. Besides the fact that such attire was completely out of place for the most respected Sereitei princess in history, Rukia herself was an extremely modest and demure woman. There was no way in a thousand years Rukia would ever be caught alive in that outfit.

Of course, she was from the land of the dead. At the moment, the only two people in the building who could see her were Tatsuki, and one of the medical residents currently in round at the oncology department. Said medical resident was Rukia's husband and Tatsuki's Division Black captain, Kurosaki Ichigo.

Tatsuki hadn't seen Rukia in anything other than her standard shinigami uniform, complete with the Kuchiki House adornments, for an extremely long time. In fact, as far as Tatsuki could tell, Rukia hadn't even been in a gigai in years. The only reason she really ever wore one anymore was so that Yuzu could see her. These days, that unfortunately wasn't often.

She looked around to make sure no one would notice her calling out to a ghost. "Hey Lieutenant," Tatsuki teased, "nice to see you out of uniform. What's the occasion?"

Rukia caught notice of the athletic R.N. who still had time to teach karate school at night. "Tatsuki-san! Have you seen Ichigo?" Rukia inquired, looking at her ever-present watch. It was a silver-faced chronometer with a black leather band, and Tatsuki noticed it matched her ensemble.

I should really try that look, Tatsuki thought. That haltertop would look dynamite on me. "Just finished with a patient and went to go talk to his resident advisor before his break," she supplied.

Rukia smiled with a bit of relief. "Alright - which way?"

Tatsuki shrugged and pointed down the hall. "So what's with the getup?"

Rukia hesitated, clearly unsure if she was explaining too much. Tatsuki could tell she was hiding the hardship. "Well, I... I thought it would make it a bit easier."

Tatsuki nodded in understanding, but then had a devilish idea. "Why don't you go distract him?"

"I don't know... I mean, he's working..."

"Rukia-san, go. It can't be easy at this time of the day. Go; it'll be good for both of you."

Rukia nodded after some hestitation, but then Tatsuki barely caught her flash down the hallway. Tatsuki swore to herself - Rukia was fast, way faster than she had been before she started training with her brother - and there was no way she wanted to miss the show. Settling down her clipboard and deciding that playing hooky for a moment or two wouldn't hurt anybody, Tatsuki ran off down the hallway to go peer around the corner at a certain carrot-topped resident.

-:-

"Taicho-sama, I was wondering if you had some time to... maybe... answer a personal question."

Byakuya raised his eyebrow. His vice captain, Banzo Ichihime, had a strictly professional relationship with him. They worked very well together, but their interaction was always formal and followed typical military protocol to a T. Banzo Ichihime was an exceptional lieutenant - her close-quarter combat skills were phenomenal, and she had complete mastery of hado spells up to level 40, which was unusual for a shinigami who fought so well with a zanpakutou. He sparred with her regularly, and she learned quickly - she was never shy about asking him for his advice on chaining kido, perfecting her shunpo, or meditation techniques to achieve bankai. But personal matters? Whereas Byakuya's previous vice captain, Abarai Renji, had at least confided in him every now and then, Ichihime never did. The most he knew about her personal life was that she almost always had rice tempura for lunch. "What troubles you, Banzo-san?"

Ichihime breathed deeply. This was going to be an extraordinarily awkward conversation. "I was hoping to ask you for some advice - but not as your subordinate. As your peer."

Byakuya was suprised (not that it showed). Technically speaking, they were both a Head of House, and should be equals. It was an unspoken agreement between them that they never discussed House matters, as it was a potential can of worms. Banzo Ichihime was the only Head of the Four Houses who had not yet achieved status of captain in the Gotei 13. This would have been fine if she wasn't serving underneath the Head of Kuchiki House (who was married to the Head of Shiba House), but the resulting public perception was that it was a sleight to her honor and a bit of disgrace; as if to say that the House of Banzo was subservient to the Houses of Kuchiki and Shiba. While Banzo-san didn't care, Byakuya did; both for her honor and also because he did not want to present the image of either he or his wife Kuukaku as taking advantage of her precarious social position.

It was already difficult enough for Byakuya to walk this fine line, presenting Banzo Ichihime with the appropriate honor yet making sure the perception of an iron order of command was never compromised. As such, when it came to the House of Banzo, Byakuya completely recused himself. If Kuukaku was unable to handle it because it required official Kuchiki representation, Byakuya delegated the responsibility to Rukia. Imoto-san and Banzo-san had good rapport, and because they were both lieutenants in the Gotei 13, there was a greater public perception of equality.

"Although I normally recuse myself from such matters, I will certainly try to meet such a personal request. I cannot say that my advice will be wise," he noted. Byakuya had learned enough in the past decade to know that he had yet to attain wisdom, but took solace in the fact that he was finally on the road to finding it. It would be many miles before he got there, but he would do his best.

Ichihime hesitated, trying to find words to express herself in a remotely dignified fashion. "As you know, the highest nobility in Soul Society has traditionally had the responsibility of maintaining the royal bloodline."

Byakuya closed his eyes, knowing all too well how much trouble his first marriage had caused, and how his sister's adoption had nearly caused a revolt in the Council for Nobility. Beyond that, he said nothing.

"I... have a predicament. The House of Shihoin and the Families of Kyoraku and Hikifune are my family; so my options are already limited. There are no more bachelors in the other two Houses, so I am left with the Families of Fon, Kuzaku, Omaeda, Sasakibe, Urahara, and Nikayui if I wish to promulgate the bloodline."

He nodded.

"The only bachelors in the Omaeda or Sasakibe families are Marechiyo Fukutaicho and Chojiro Fukutaicho."

Byakuya gestured that she need not explain. He could conceive of no situation in which anyone should be forced to marry the 2nd division's oaf. The 1st division vice captain, while a noble and honorable choice, was a wholly inappropriate match for her, because of age as much as temperament.

"The Fon family has no male heirs; the Kuzaku and Urahara families' sons are all married; leaving me with a choice of two sons in the Nikayui family; neither of which are shinigami."

"Really?" Byakuya commented. It surprised him. The mother, Nikayui Shirani, was in the Royal Guard.

"Yes," she confirmed. "I have met neither of them, and I have no basis upon which to judge them, but..."

"...but you are clearly not left with many options," Byakuya concluded, sparing her the indignity of stating such a thing on her own. "What is your question?"

Ichihime collapsed into a chair, completely losing her 'princess speech' as her frustration got to her. "Goddamnit, who the fucking hell can stand this political shit? I don't wanna marry any of these arrogant, stuffy bastards."

Byakuya was shocked that she had lost her composure - her unrefined side came out on the battlefield all the time, but she never lost it in the office. When she talked with him, her formality was as ramrod straight as an iron pole. "I see."

She stared off into space, distant and clearly upset. "I'll confess, Taicho-sama. I don't love Renji. He'd make a terrible father, and he's not the most considerate guy I've ever met. But he likes me - me, the real Ichihime that no one else is allowed to see. I don't love him, but if I could seriously be given the chance to, I think I could - and for me, that's saying something."

Her captain took a deep breath before responding. "I understand your predicament. Indeed, the other three Heads of House were fortunate enough to marry those that they love. I acknowledge that it is unfair that you are unable to easily do the same."

"No one understands my problem better than you do. You are the only Head of House in recent memory who ever married outside the upper noble houses."

He nodded, and his next words dismayed her. "Unfortunately, that does not mean I have the answers to your question."

"What do you propose I do, then? Break Renji's heart by making overtures to the Nikayui family?"

Byakuya spoke very carefully, as he was about to confess a side to him that would have left him vulnerable. He was never comfortable with that, despite his many years of trying to become a more open, emotional person. "Matters of the heart are not to be taken lightly," he said quietly. "I am fortunate to have realized this truth, yet I have not attained the sagacity necessary to answer your dilemna. I do propose, though, that you speak with your uncle."

"Shunsui-ojisama? Love counsel from a womanizer? No offense, Taicho-sama, but that... seems like unusual advice."

He worded his reply cautiously. "Kyoraku-san has a reputation, but lately it has not been so deserved. He seems to have the seeds of an actual relationship at the moment with Rantao Fukutaicho, so perhaps you may be able to take his advice more seriously."

Ichihime allowed a tiny laugh to escape. She had no idea about her uncle's relationship with the new 12th division vice captain, but it didn't surprise her. From what Ise-senpai had told her, Shunsui-ojisama always did have a thing for women with glasses. "Alright, then. I'll ask him." Right after pigs fly and you start breakdancing to polka music, Taicho.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, Banzo-no-kimi?" he asked using this most formal honorific, trying to portray the situation as one between equals.

The gesture startled Ichihime. Normally, she truly detested receiving these little displays of honor, but from him it was not a trivial thing. She took it graciously, and put her proper composure back into place. "No, you have been most helpful, Kuchiki-no-kimi," she replied, sure to use the title back to him; where it was much more well deserved.

Byakuya nodded politely despite being fully aware that he had been no help at all, and then returned to his paperwork. Ichihime stayed for a few more moments, contemplative; and then departed.

-:-

Ichigo was trying to listen to Kato-sensei's instructions about the next slew of patients he was going to be seeing after his break, but he was hopelessly distracted. His wife, who looked soooooooo fine, was sauntering over with a sexy swagger in her hips and her tongue curled over her upper lip in a divinely seductive pose. The last time she got his blood roiling this fast was when they went clubbing five or six years ago. There was a reason Ichigo's favorite song was 'Crazy in Love', and it had absolutely nothing to do with Beyonce. Yeah, he was definitely distracted.

He also knew that he was the only one of the two of them that could see her.

Rukia was circling around him, deliberately swishing her sensuous features in every which way. Ichigo was attempting to hold a conversation with his oncology supervisor, and probably came across like a complete idiot. He was managing not to completely bumble up until she had managed to jump on his back, wrap her legs around his waist, slip her spirit-hands into his shirt and begin to nibble on his ear.

"Kurosaki, are you okay?" Dr. Kato asked him. He was behaving very, very oddly; almost like he was suffering attention-deficit disorder.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry; I have, um, just a bit of gas, that's all," he blurbled. Aw man, what a stupid thing to say, he thought. That's gotta be a turnoff.

Rukia didn't seem to notice. She just hopped down and wrapped her invisible, immaterial hands around his waist, slowly sliding them under his belt just an inch. It was a not-quite-obscene gesture, but it was making his whole body twitch. "Hey, Big Johnson, you got some time for me?" she sang slyly, the words practically making his soul jump out of his body.

"Kurosaki? You there?"

"Uh, sorry, Kato-sensei; I'm, er, just a bit uncomfortable. Would you, uh, er, mind if I come back to you after I've had my break? I, uh, need to make it to the men's room."

"Oh yes you do, Soldier," his wife commented, her spirit body pressing up against his physical one and nearly making him lose his composure.

The doctor looked at him a bit funny but decided that wasn't a bad idea. "Alright, I'll see you in ten minutes," he sighed. Thinking about it for a second, Kato added, "Actually, you look like maybe you need a bit more than that - come to my office in twenty."

Rukia smiled up at him, swishing her styled hair to the side to flaunt her exposed neck, shoulder, and upper chest. "Ooh, extra time today, honey," she commented, reaching for the zipper on his trousers. "From the looks of Colussus down here, I bet you can't wait to take advantage of it," she teased.

Ichigo swallowed, trying to contain himself, and then nodded. "Arigato, Sensei."

The doctor gave him one last funny look and then departed around the corner. Within a heartbeat, Ichigo dived into a supply closet, whacked his soul out of his body with his badge, and was dragging Rukia into an empty patient room in the oncology wing. It was the best sex they'd had in the past five months. There was no doubt that he was going to be late for his meeting with Kato-sensei, but he didn't care.

-:-

Tatsuki was doing everything she could not to explode laughing as she hurried out of the way so that her boss wouldn't find her spying. I know it's tragic, but that was freaking hilarious, she thought. Oh god, real life can be waaaay funnier than the movies.

-:-

Kotsubaki stifled a yelp as Soifon bit his bicep with ferocious strength. As could be anticipated from someone in the Covert Ops, she hated making noise while they had sex and always did this when she was climaxing. That, and because she liked to beat the crap out of him in general. Sure enough, the telltale punch into his left pectoral muscle came shortly thereafter; the rib-crushing blow knocking him off of her. Soifon didn't do subtlety.

He was used to it by now. She had been using and abusing him off and on for ten years already. At first, she would wipe his mind and dump him somewhere, usually naked in an embarassingly public place. It was so awful that he threatened to charge her with sexual harassment, and to his surprise, rather than kill him, she left him alone for a couple of years. Maybe she found some other victim, or maybe she was just busy; he didn't know; but he had been grateful. About six years ago, the booty calls began ringing on his phone, and when he didn't answer them, she drugged him and locked him in her cellar for a weekend. In the interest of his own survival, he promised to cooperate if she wouldn't do the whole blank-and-dump thing anymore.

In hindsight, he thought perhaps he should have just threatened her with harassment again.

Now he was stuck in this... relationship, for lack of a better word. Sentaro didn't really like Soifon. In honesty, he thought she was a cold, heartless bitch with no feelings for anyone except Shihoin Yoruichi. But she wasn't awful-looking, and the sex was good. That was what he told himself, anyway; because in reality, he hated every last second with the cruel harpy. The only thing that kept him in this relationship was the fear that she would slit his scrotum if he didn't show up at her beck and call.

Sentaro took a moment to feel sorry for himself. His father Jinemon had been the lieutenant under the previous 7th division captain, Aikawa Love. Kotsubaki Jinemon was the badass to end all badasses; even more badass than the badass 9th division vice captain, Hisagi Shuuhei. Jinemon was tougher than steel, and radiated 100% pure manly masculinity. So far, Sentaro had failed to come close to following in his father's footsteps.

Kotsubaki's father died around ninety-five years ago. He died like a real man, taking out six thugs in a barfight until some drunk coward stabbed him in the back. Sentaro had been a young academy student back then, but not naive. He grew up fast - his mother had run off with another man many decades before, and suddenly he was all alone. Except for his sake. That was his constant companion.

Alone and empty, it washed away the pain of failure, so he drank more of it. How he passed the academy exam and made it into the Gotei 13, he had no idea. Perhaps Ukitake Taicho took pity on him; maybe it was because he was good at being a whipped and subservient man. Maybe it was because the 13th regularly took in the younger shinigami (like Kotetsu Kiyone) and he was good with them. Who knows. In any case, Sentaro was thankful. If not for Ukitake Jushiro, Kotsubaki Sentaro would still be drunk. Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic; but he hadn't had a drop of sake in over forty-two years.

If his father was still alive, he would probably call Sentaro a wuss - a pansy for letting the bottle rule him, and then a bigger pansy for not being able to drink anymore. He was only further emasculated by the fact that he would be stuck forever behind women. His longtime rival, Kotetsu Kiyone, had always outclassed him; and indeed she was now a vice captain. The gap in skill between him and his fukutaicho, Kuchiki Rukia, was bigger than the difference between him and the lowest unseated officer in his division (and the 13th was by far the largest). It was like an earthworm looking up to the heavens.

He hadn't even been a particularly exceptional third seat like Madarame Ikkaku in the 11th, or Hana Tsubaki in the 2nd. It went without saying that a comparison to the previous 13th division 3rd seat didn't help. Even the idea of comparing him to Shiba Miyako seemed absurd. And of course, now, he was Soifon's sex slave; hopelessly unable to get himself out of it without fear of losing his testicles. The regular abuse he took from the diminutive leader of the Onmitsukido didn't help his self-esteem.

Soifon tossed him his clothes and then kicked him hard in between the legs. Kotsubaki fell to his knees in gasping agony. She was a complete sadist, and he had marks and bruises all over - but this was mean and nasty, even for her. It hurt a thousand times worse than the other shit she did to him. Seeing stars, he barely heard her laugh darkly as she gave him her version of a goodbye kiss, licking his cheek suggestively and then biting it. Hard. Enough to leave bloody teeth marks on his face.

"Thanks, lover," Soifon said seductively. "You know you love me, because you like it rough," she grinned, the mean twinge of cruelty layered into her otherwise angry voice. "You love the pain, and I know it. That's why you love me, Kotsubaki-chan. Because I know you love the way I make you feel like a man," she grinned maniacally before slamming the door in his face, the impact smashing him in the nose. As his head rang a thousand gongs, his bloody nose leaked, and his pelvis throbbed, he thought about how pathetic a man he was.

Still unable to move, the door to Soifon's room in the barracks opened momentarily - and she dumped a bucket of ice water on him. It was so jarringly cold that he jumped, the pain in his groin reverberating in his skull at the movement. The dominatrix gave another sinister snicker as she pushed him out of the way. The 2nd division captain was fully dressed now, and she left him on the floor of the hallway in the prison officer's barracks, smirking after giving him an affectionate whack on the rump.

Affectionate in the sense that at least it wasn't hard enough to break his tailbone.

Kotsubaki's clothes were now sopping wet, but he put them on anyway. Soifon didn't even have the courtesy to abuse him back at the Fon manor at the edge of the Shihoin estate, where at least he wouldn't be left disgraced in front of the other shinigami in her division. On more than one occasion, Omaeda Marechiyo had found him in a crumpled heap with his clothes torn ragged, or his head shaved, or with his face decorated in women's cosmetics. It was no wonder Kotsubaki was a laughingstock amongst the Gotei 13. At least Soifon stayed away from the 13th division barracks - his seated officers barely respected him enough as it was. Hell, the only reason they probably listened to him was because Kuchiki Fukutaicho would kick the shit out of them if they didn't.

Beaten and downtrodden, Sentaro put on his freezing wet clothes and gingerly headed back to the 13th division. He was not looking forward to his daily meeting with the other seated officers in his current state. Honestly, all he really wanted was to die of shame and have no one ever remember his humiliation ever again.

-:-

Orihime looked in the mirror and tried to remember that she had been beautiful once.

Her bony hips were the only remnant she had of ever having been a woman. Her once buxom chest was flat and scarred, the two scars forming a large 'V' across her pale torso. She was still hairless from head to toe and everything in between; so she looked sadly prepubescent. Orihime had lost a horrifying amount of weight, and her ribs poked out from beneath the taught, pale skin.

Inoue Orihime was a survivor, though. She only had one more month of chemotherapy, and then it was just the radiation therapy for another three months. Her prognosis was very positive at this point. Although the tumor in her right breast had been very large, it hadn't yet metastisized and spread to the rest of her body, so they performed a mastectomy and monitored her. When they saw a small, aggressive tumor form in her left breast shortly afterwards, they resorted to aggressive treatment, which included another mastectomy combined with chemo and radiation. Orihime may not grow her auburn hair as long as she had once had it, but she hopefully wouldn't have the indignity of dying bald.

One more month, and she could start to live again. To finally get married, she thought, looking at the ring Uryu had given her over two years ago, sitting in its case on the shelf. They had to postpone the wedding indefinitely because of her cancer, and she had lost so much weight that the ring fell off her finger. Rather than have it resized, she kept it the way it was, promising herself that she would recover and become healthy enough to wear it again.

Uryu had put his whole life on hold, deferring medical school and working part-time as a paramedic to help take care of her. She didn't have anyone else, save for some distant cousins that lived in Europe who had supported her during high school. They couldn't fly out to Japan because of the war; which had imposed heavy travel restrictions.

In truth, Orhime wasn't even sure that they would come even if they could. It had taken her many years to realize it, but sending money and allowing a young teenager to live by herself in an urban town was not exactly the loving thing to do. They should have sent her to live in Ireland with them - which would have obviously been less expensive in the long run - and they never really called her. She had invited Mary-san and Bob-san to visit almost two years ago, which was long before the war broke out - but they declined.

Doubts and fears accompanied her along the way. What happened if Uryu wouldn't find her attractive anymore? He hadn't seen her disrobed since a year and a half ago, just before she found out about her cancer. Would he still want to marry her? Would he feel like he was marrying a woman, or would her flat chest make him feel like he was a pedophile? It was silly, she knew - Ishida Uryu had loved her for a long time and was completely devoted to her, but that didn't assuage her fears. Just because he loved her doesn't mean it would be easy for him afterwards. Things would never be the same - the question was this: how much would change, and would he change with it? These fears haunted her every day; the self-doubt gripping her and making her wonder that even if she recovered physically, would she ever recover emotionally? Orihime wasn't sure.

Getting dressed, she put on a pair of underwear, not bothering with a tampon. Her period had stopped ever since the chemo started. Orihime debated putting on one of her falsetto bras - ones padded enough to at least mimic a womanly figure that were designed for breast cancer victims - but decided she wasn't in the mood to pretend to be a woman today. Outside of cosmetic reasons, a bra was pointless. It wasn't like her nipples were going to poke out; she didn't even have nipples anymore. So instead, she just threw on a baggy t-shirt. Sighing, Orihime put on a pair of pre-teen jeans she bought recently (they were the only kind that fit anymore) and an oversized beret, and then went back to the mirror to brood over her pathetic appearance again.

Trying not to cry, she grabbed her purse and her keys. Orihime had yet another checkup at the hospital. Sometimes, she wondered if she should just live there. At least she would get to see Tatsuki-chan; maybe she might be able to stop in endocrinology and see Hiyori-san if she was in for her usual dialysis.

Orihime had always wondered why Hiyori-san never let her restore her body like she did for Soifon's arm after the Winter War. She supposed it was a pride thing; remembering how Kuukaku-san had also refused her restorative abilities. Not that it mattered anymore, she thought. The cancer had completely killed her Shun Shun Rikka. How that was possible, nobody knew; but Orihime was now just a regular human like everyone else (well, except that she could still see spirit-based beings).

Declaring herself hungry (a true appetite is always elusive for chemo patients), she stopped for a quick bowl of udon with red bean paste, calamari, peanut butter and balsamic vinegar. Thankfully, cancer could never take away her appreciation for delicious food.

-:-

Enjoji Tatsufasa, 3rd Seat of the 8th Division, was enjoying the walk out in the Rukongai. Perhaps because the weather was perfect, perhaps it was because he was on a cushy assignment. Or perhaps because walking with his current vice captain reminded him how for the past ten years, he had been free of the deathly temperament of his former vice captain, Ise Nanao. Unlike Ise Fukutaicho, Kiyone Fukutaicho (no one used her last name anymore, it avoided confusion between her and her older sister) took a more vested interest in her subordinates. Whereas Ise ruled with an iron fist, Kiyone was more personable and had more of a give-and-take relationship with her seated officers. Enjoji could tell that over the past ten years, Kiyone had matured, both in personality and wisdom, and she was a good leader - his original impression of her as an ill-tempered brat had since disappeared.

That didn't mean she wasn't scary as hell. One of the only two vice captains known to have bankai, the golden-haired busty beauty could crush him flat. Whereas Ise Fukutaicho would have glared at him until his bones melted through some silently-initiated kido, Enjoji knew from sparring with the 6'1" Kiyone Fukutaicho that you didn't mess with her. When she punched you in the face, you could feel it in your toes; and when she kicked you in the hamstring, your teeth hurt.

To Enjoji's chagrin, she was married. He found her unusually attractive - the past decade had been very kind to her. She had grown her hair out long now, tied back in a single, modest ponytail. Her uniform was standard issue, but it was clearly a size too small, as it didn't close all the way in the front; leaving a revealing-yet-still-tactful view of her cleavage. If anything ever happened to Ukitake Jushiro, Enjoji was going all in. Not that he thought he would ever really get the chance, but Kiyone was definitely more pleasant to look at than his previous mission partner Banzo-sama had been. He momentarily shuddered at the thought of imagining Banzo-sama naked, with all those hairy moles everywhere. Ick.

He had been so busy looking at his lieutenant's ass that he barely noticed when they had arrived at their first destination on their patrol route, a Rukongai checkpoint next to a small temple. Kiyone turned to him, and he flustered for a moment, hoping she didn't notice his ogling.

"Seems quiet," Kiyone said.

"It usually is, Fukutaicho," he replied.

"It shouldn't be," she frowned. "At least not today. It's Festere."

"Festere?" he asked, puzzled.

"The weekly day of rest. The crowds should be here by now."

"Maybe they're inside the church," he suggested.

Kiyone paused for a minute. "Are you a religious man, Enjoji-san?"

"Me? No," he answered. They had been making the stop here for a few days now, but she had never asked him this. "I don't believe in any deities. My family tells me that our ethnic culture on Earth had many gods, but after dying and coming here, it made no sense to believe in the gods anymore."

"Interesting," Kiyone thought out loud. "I find it intriguing that your family chose to base their current beliefs from their religion on Earth."

"Permission to speak candidly, Fukutaicho."

"Permission granted."

"Curiousity struck me. Are you Circular, or Continuous?"

"Neither," she answered. "but I do believe in God. This particular shrine is open to all; which is why I like this route."

"Is there a reason you didn't join either the Following of the Circle or the Church of Continuity?"

Kiyone shrugged. "Both religions had similar origins - the war on Earth brought a large influx of new souls, many of whom were shocked to find out that their afterlife is a bit different than what they expected. As a shinigami who found my faith, I had no such illusions."

Enjoji sighed, dismissive. "Eh, who'd wanna be a part of either of those stupid cults anyway."

"They aren't 'stupid cults', Enjoji," Kiyone spat at him with a disgusted glare. "Earth has millions of people faithful to a higher force, something greater than themselves. The devout do a lot of good in the world. When they die and see that the afterlife is different than they imagine, it's an incredibly hard adjustment."

"So they go back to pretending," he replied, unimpressed.

"Don't be so dismissive," she reacted. "You and I both know without doubt that there is a Hell. Some power greater than us all - call it Fate, call it God, call it whatever you want - some greater being still judges every one of us and determines who was righteous and who was not. It's perfectly sensible that these people would simply find a faith that better fits the facts that they know."

Enjoji paused. He had never considered this point before, and he saw logic in it. "I'll concede that you have a point. But still - people do crazy things in the name of religion. Look at the war in the human world right now - those idiots in Europe are annihilating each other left and right, each one saying 'my god is better than your god'. If that's what your god had in mind, I don't think he's all that special."

"That's over the line, Enjoji," Kiyone answered, her tone clearly rescinding her permission for candid speech. She was used to defending herself to someone who clearly wouldn't deviate from their preestablished worldview, but his disrespectful sneer pissed her off and she didn't want to discuss it further.

Kiyone was well aware of the idiocy that had started the war on Earth a number of years ago. The Disciples of Kathura, some unheard-of religion founded on some tiny unnamed islands in the Latvian sea (which were previously thought to be uninhabited) had supposedly acquired weapons of mass destruction. The Disciples were threatening to launch them at Jerusalem, Mecca, Vatican City, Bodhgaya, Ise, Pawapuri, Varanasi, and a host of revered religious locations across the world.

Various countries accused each other of selling them the weapons and using them as pawns for ulterior motives. Tensions grew hot when the Disciples launched a poison gas missile into the North Pole, killing no one but causing grave ecological damage. The economical damage to the arctic fisheries was staggering, and no one could tell what kind of secondary causes would have yet to occur. Things escalated from there, as the more established religions on Earth began to call for action. Before long, riots were erupting all over Europe; with citizens demanding that their countries attack.

And attack they did. The little island was detonated into heaps of sand and ash. The Disciples responded by blowing up the Eiffel Tower and then launching a missile into the Arch of Titus a few days later from somewhere in the Pacific. When a nuclear bomb landed on Iceland, a massive war had erupted in Europe, each country blaming the other. Mass chaos had ensued. Spain invaded France, claiming that they were incompetent and unable to fight the mysterious force. France responded by blockading goods to Spain from the UK, which trashed Britain's economy. And so on and so on; until there were thousands and millions dying left and right, armies slaughtering each other, calling each other Kathurian sympathizers. The shinigami had been up to their eyeballs over there; konso-ing fifty-to-a-hundred more times than usual per day, and slaying hollows whereever they could. The idea that it had all started because of some wacko religion was particularly distasteful.

Kiyone marched up the stairs, pausing before she opened the doors. "And for the record, 'my' God is a 'She'."

Enjoji rolled his eyes. He may have been free from Ise Fukutaicho, but he still reported to a feminist. "I'll touch base with the checkpoint and then wait out here."

Kiyone acknowledged him and then breathed deeply, trying to push her irritation out before she opened the doors to the unaffiliated temple in a slow, reverent fashion. The small building in the northern Rukongai was well maintained, but it was relatively empty; a bit of a surprise on Festere. A single pew of druids, up in the front, prayed silently. Kiyone sat down on a bench in the back of the shrine, bowed her head in solemn thought, and prayed to Fate that humanity would stop destroying itself.

-:-

Elsewhere

She was quieter than usual. Normally, I could hear her turning the pages of her book, but she was being extra quiet today for some reason.

"Are you hungry or thirsty?"

"No."

"Do you want to go for a walk?"

"No."

"Do you want a hug? A kiss?"

"No."

"Are you happy here?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to fix something today?"

"No."

"Would you like me to stay?"

"No."

"Do you want me to come tomorrow?"

"No."

My heart hurt a bit, but it was par for the course. "Okay," I said softly, and gave her some space.

Next chapter: Kuchiki Hisako and others. I know it's early on in the story and it's just getting started, but reviews, please! Thank you! -njx