A/N: Hey, friends and loved ones! A new chappie of Mending! YAYUH! Well, not much to say here, except more thanks to Pago for letting me kick back in his house! Please, please, PLEASE read and review his stories!

Speaking of reviews, I am a little disappointed to see how little reaction this story is getting. I am really into it and excited about it, and would like to see the same! Followers, please spread the word about this story! Also, please drop at least one review, if you read, fave, or alert! I want to know how I'm doing!

The only OC I own at this point is Tatter de Malion. Anrak Ushii, Kage Shitsukoi (his Zanpakuto) , Takk, Satsu, and Tyn Tethys all belong to Pago. Enjeru belongs to Ryumaju.

=Z7=

The Asshole is in the Rear

The room was filled with the gentle murmur of quiet conversation by the remaining Captains and Lieutenants of the Gotei Thirteen, all assembled within the Meeting Hall of the First Division. The enormous body of wolf-headed Sajin Komamura of the Seventh Division was bent nearly double as he listened intently to the slender frame of Shuhei Hisagi, the acting Captain of the Ninth, who was excitedly whispering and gesturing wildly with his hands. Eighth's Shunsui Kyoraku and Nanao Ise were close to two other people, Captain Ushii of the Thirteenth Division and his Lieutenant, Neliel tu Odelschvank–Ushii, the only Arrancar to ever serve in the Gotei 13. Neliel was nodding at something Anrak was saying, and Shunsui had an unusually serious expression on his face.

Sui-Feng looked around the rest of the room. Retsu Unohana and Isane Kotetsu were murmuring to each other in the corner. Fifth Captain Renji Abarai was looking a bit lonely, standing by himself with no Lieutenant, but Toshiro Hitsugaya and Rangiku Matsumoto of the Tenth Squad were heading his way...well, it seemed that Hitsugaya was more doing his "being dragged" act, but that was hardly new. Byakuya Kuchiki, nobleman and Sixth Division head, was alone as well...and apparently enjoying it, if his calm and composed demeanor was anything to judge by. Kenpachi Zaraki was not present. The Eleventh Division Captain was more than likely lost, probably due to the directions given by a certain small, pink haired child. Mayuri Kurotsuchi was dictating to his...daughter-thing, Nemu, who also filled the function of Lieutenant of the Twelfth Division. She was rapidly scribbling upon a notepad, occasionally nodding as she did.

Sui-Feng gave a small, nearly-silent sigh, her left shoe tapping rapidly against the Seki-Seki stone that composed the floor. The Captain-Commander was nowhere in sight, and she was eager to get this damn meeting over with.

'Relax, Bee. You're going to get wrinkly!'

'Relax', Su'? And how exactly am I supposed to do that, with all the work I have to get done? I don't know why we all have to assemble, anyway; this is a matter between Division Two and First Squad!'

'Well, just think–we get this over with, and you won't have to deal with Miyazaki again!'

Sui-Feng flinched a bit. She had forgotten all about that in the hubbub about the new arrivals. Guiltily sneaking a look back in Retsu's direction, she snapped it back as her eyes made contact with the healer's.

'Oooh...Captain Mom's going to let you haaaaave iiiiiit...'

'Shut up, Su'...'

Instead of focusing upon the negatives of her current situation, Sui-Feng decided to pass the time in speculation.

There was little to nothing she didn't know about the Kudos. She considered them...friendly acquaintances from her past, even if they were silly and foolish. No, what really had her puzzling was her sub-in Lieutenant, Tatter de Malion. His physical description had been scanty on details, and as for his past? The bio made it seem as if he had been in Onmitsukido his entire life...certainly he'd had a life before service, since Tatter de Malion was obviously a codename, but there had been absolutely no mention. He'd just appeared one day.

She snorted.

As if she didn't have enough to worry about. Now she had to deal with an unbalanced mystery man.

A sudden burst of activity, the sudden movement of superior and subordinate alike into designated places, signaled the entry of Captain-Commander Genryuusai Shigekuni Yamamoto and his Lieutenant, Chojiro Sasakibe. The older man stumped in, a light hand on his cane/Zanpakuto, Ryujin Jakka. His slitted gaze swept the room, seeing without seeming to truly look, and the already-at-attention group stood a little straighter.

"Captains and Lieutenants of the Gotei Thirteen," he growled.

Sui-Feng rolled her eyes internally. This was going to be long...

"Today, we prepare to welcome back into our midst three Soul Reapers of great renown. A handful of you," and at this he pointedly looked at Sui-Feng, "are aware of exactly who they are. However, the majority of you are not. Therefore–"

And this was when all hell broke loose.

The familiar whooshing of a Senkaimon opening interrupted the Captain-Commander in the middle of his sentence as it suddenly appeared some feet above the middle of the venue. Several of the Captains started, their hands going to their sides and grasping weapons as they stared upwards.

A faint, but distinguishably male voice bellowed "JUMP FOR IT!" and a black-robed figure tumbled out of the gate and fell the ten feet to the floor, landing on his back with an audible grunt of pain.

"Ow..." he muttered as he struggled to sit up, only to be flattened by another shihakusho-clad person, this one female, who also gave a muffled oath of discomfort.

"M-Matsuri, get off...," Fujimaru gasped as his sister struggled to her hands and knees crossways over his stomach. "Working...on it..." she responded, and got to her feet just as another figure, this one in a ragged brown tentoken, dove out of the dimensional tear head first, tucked into a roll, and reversed his position to face the Senkaimon as he ended his somersault in a crouch, hand on his blade.

Sui-Feng saw his hood come off, exposing deep indigo hair, a thick white streak over his left eye, a scarred face, and noticed the quick turn of his head, taking in the corners of the room in a series of quick glances. His dark crimson eyes seemed to see everything at once, skipping here and there, as if ascertaining the harmlessness of the room's shadows.

All of this had happened within the approximate space of 5 seconds, and the room was in a near uproar. Only a few Captains were not shouting questions at each other, at their Lieutenants, at the Captain-Commander, at the intruders and the majority of the Lieutenants were blankly looking at the Senkaimon or their Captains, wondering what to do. Sui-Feng herself was on the verge of ordering her men out of the darkest corners of the room and arrest the Gatecrashers when the sound of a thousand screaming trains echoed out of the portal.

All went silent as heads turned to the gate, and all eyes widened to see the massive, dark shape of the Cleaner itself pass by the opening, searchlight flashing as it turned a nearby corner and disappeared into the depths of the Dangai Precipice Realm.

A movement from the small group near the Senkai Gate drew their attention, as the figure in the cloak rose to his feet, and proceeded to float up to the entrance of the Dangai. He reached up, removing the mask covering the lower half of his face, stuck his head into the opening...

And yelled.

"MISSED!"

A howl echoed from the shadowy depths, as if the Cleaner was returning the slight. The cloaked man turned and gave a lazy wave while the gate closed. "Yeah, fuck you, too..."

Stunned silence and shocked faces greeted him as he slowly floated down to the floor. Booted feet made contact, and his eyes scanned the room again, seemingly taking in the assembled leadership of the Soul Society for the first time.

The Captains stared.

The Lieutenants stared.

The Kudo twins stared.

He looked around at them all, a flat, yet annoyed look on his face. "What the hell are all of you looking at?"

Captain-Commander Yamamoto, the only one to keep his composure during this whole riot, cleared his throat. The harsh noise, like gravel rushing down an iron slide, caused the assembled mass of individuals to straighten back into attention. Fujimaru and Matsuri jumped to their feet, and bowed sharply.

"Matsuri and–"

–Fujimaru Kudo-"

"Reporting for duty, Captain-Commander, sir!" They finished simultaneously in that obnoxious way all sets of twins seemed to have.

Sui-Feng scoffed under her breath.

'Weirdos...'

Suzumebachi sniggered.

"At ease, both of you. Thank you for coming on such short notice, and welcome home." The Captain-Commander's voice had warmed slightly as he spoke to the young pair, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "During this time of crisis, it is good to know that our friends in the Living Realm remember us. Are you prepared to perform your sacred duty as Soul Reapers?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Very well, then. I believe you remember Seventh Division Captain Komamura?"

All eyes turned to the massive man-wolf as he stepped forward, a not unkind look on his muzzle as he faced the twins, who were having a difficult time of it keeping their own smiles from appearing.

"He is currently managing both his own and the Third Squad, where you both will be placed in order to better facilitate..."

While she studiously paid half an iota of attention, Sui-Feng's foot tapped against the ground impatiently. Could they please get this idiotic display of sentimentality over with, already? She had things to do, better things, like...her paperwork.

'You know, Captain-Commander...the paperwork that piles up when I am at these meetings?'

Suzumebachi gave a comforting little hum, hoping to quell her mistress' infamously short temper from overflowing. That would be the last thing they needed, right now.

The Second Division Captain's notice was attracted by Yamamoto's next words.

"Tatter de Malion. Step forward."

At the mention of the name, the entire room tensed. Komamura had taken both twins back to his station, where Lieutenant Enjeru Masamune, successor to the deceased Tetsuzaemon Iba, had been quietly greeting them. They hushed however, and their heads turned to join those of everyone else as the heretofore silent man in the raggedy tentoken sauntered up the empty space between the two lines of Division heads, barely giving any of them a glance...

Until he passed in front of Toshiro Hitsugaya. He stopped there. Cocking his head to the left, he then tilted it to stare at the small, white-haired Captain, and a thoughtful expression crossed his face.

Hitsugaya furrowed his brow. "Can I help you with something?" He testily asked.

Considering that Sui-Feng thought the boy one of her few…perhaps "friends" was a strong word… Sui-Feng glared a hole in Tatter de Malion's back. She could tell that the youngest Captain was anticipating a crack about his height.

Judging from the rogue's earlier comments, she considered his suspicions justified.

Instead, the lost agent pointed at the sword hilt peeking from behind Toshiro's shoulder, and said a single word.

"Hyorinmaru."

And, locking his eyes onto the hilt, gave a short bow.

He then continued down the line as if this odd behavior was completely normal, exchanging slight nods with Shunsui Kyoraku and Retsu Unohana as he walked, until he stood in front of the Captain-Commander, and, consequently, Sui-Feng, as well.

"Rogue Shinigami Tatter de Malion, reporting for duty, sir."

Yamamoto nodded once to him, and let out a deep breath. "Tatter de Malion," he began. "It has been quite some time since we saw you last, hasn't it?" De Malion nodded his agreement.

"Yeah, well, you know what they say. Home again, home again, hippety-hop."

"And where have you come from?"

The man smirked a bit. "From going to and fro in the Earth, and from walking up and down in it."

Yamamoto seemed amused by this answer, for his mustache twitched, as if a corner of his mouth lifted for a moment. "Last reports had you in Hueco Mundo. Did you see anything interesting there?"

To the side, Sui-Feng found herself in a certain amount of astonishment at the conversational tone this meeting was having. It was almost as if the others in the room didn't exist, and the Captain-Commander was talking to an old friend about the weather!

Shaking off her irritation, she used this time to garner a good look at the newcomer.

He was tall, six feet if he was an inch, which meant he towered over her. There was little of his body that she could see, with it being hidden under his cloak, but she could see that he was thin, with the pinched look of someone not used to having meals on a regular basis.

Luckily, he was angled a little to the side, which afforded her a view of his face. It was rather young for his age. He had a strong jaw and high cheekbones, giving him an angular look and further enforcing her opinion of his body structure. The nose was arched and slightly crooked, as if it had been broken more than once, and he carried himself a little lazily, shoulders slightly back, all his weight upon his left leg.

In the middle of the talk with Yamamoto, he glanced at her with a vaguely uninterested gaze, allowing her to see his scar in detail.

And what a scar it was.

The white streak in his short indigo hair began a few inches back from the hairline above his left eye, near the middle of his skull, and marking the path the scar took to his face. It was a deep scar, finger-thick, its darkness telling of exposed bone and near-irreparable damage done, which was betrayed by the muted movement on the left side of his face and the slightly unsynchronized, slow blinking of that eye. It followed the side of his nose until it reached level with his eye socket, then followed the natural hollow in the bone, finally creating a straight slash down upon reaching the far side of his eye and ending at the corner of his jaw. It was not a wound that could have been received in a fight, she realized. It was a torture mark, inflicted for the strictly for the purpose of causing pain and suffering.

'To ruin an otherwise handsome face...'

She frowned at the stray thought and dismissed it. Obviously, Suzumebachi was projecting her constantly amorous and infantile impressions of almost anything male and on two legs into her own mind.

'No, I'm not!'

'Be quiet, Su'.'

An age-stained voice calling her name caused her mind to snap to the present as the Captain-Commander turned to her.

"Tatter de Malion, I would like you to meet your new Captain. This is Second Division leader and Commander-in-Chief of the Onmitsukido, Sui-Feng. You will be stationed under her until such time as she has chosen a more permanent subordinate to be her Lieutenant." He turned to her, and raised a steel-grey brow. "I do not expect any problems from this association," he added in an undertone. "From either of you. Am I clear?"

A brisk nod was Sui-Feng's answer, with a crisp "Yes, sir!" underlining it.

Her new aide-de-camp's was a shrug of the shoulders, accompanied by a "Sure, sure...".

The old man's eyes shot to the rogue's face for a fraction of a second as he turned back to the assemblage of Captains, Lieutenants, and home comers. "That is the conclusion of this meeting. Dismissed!"

=Z7=

The short, ten-minute walk back to the home of the Second Division was uneventful. De Malion had stood in front of her, staring with that same insolent and apathetic look in his blood-red eyes, as the rest of the group had filed out.

Sui-Feng had locked gazes with him, refusing to concede an inch.

Soon, they were alone in the assembly hall, and then, when she'd had enough, Sui-Feng cocked a brow. "Do you want to stand here all night staring?"

He shrugged. "Not like I haven't done it before."

Her mouth tightened a bit. "Well, I don't plan on making it a habit." And with that, she spun on a heel, and stalked out the door, arms in her sleeves, feeling him begin to follow.

They had not exchanged words the entire time they were walking. Not that Sui-Feng was complaining, mind. There was a lot to think about, what with how she was going to re-distribute her workload to fit this guy's strengths and get the most efficient use out of him, and breaking him of that disrespectful attitude he had. It didn't matter that he was close to Kyoraku in age, and she was a mere 180 years old.

She was a Captain, dammit.

And besides...

Talking would have ruined the enjoyment she was getting from forcing him and his long legs to slow down to her own, admittedly small strides.

Was it petty?

Yes...

But she didn't care.

'Take that, you insolent bastard...'

They reached the gates of the Second Squad Headquarters. She stopped and sighed. Home, sweet home.

She ignored both the tall, silent figure and the bead of sweat dribbling down her neck, and, after silently cursing the unseasonably hot April weather, motioned to a small, cottage-like house on her left. "That," she said stiffly, a note of disapproval on her voice, "is your quarters."

Silence ensued.

Sui-Feng looked over her shoulder at Tatter de Malion. He was staring at the building as if it was the most uninteresting thing he had ever laid eye upon.

He finally nodded.

"...s'nice..."

She finally lowered her hand, rolling her eyes at his insipid comment. She pointed with her other hand across the short, street like path that led through the Division and in front of his "house". Another building was there, slightly larger than his.

"That is mine. As you can see, we are near each other in case of an emergency."

Another short silence.

"...alright..."

Sui-Feng twitched a bit. Not half an hour ago, this man wouldn't shut up talking to the Captain-Commander, and now he barely talks?

'I don't mind that...strong and silent...' Came the oddly-dreamy voice of Suzumebachi.

'Shut. Up. Now. Su'. This is not the time!'

The sound of a raspberry echoed in her mind.

She sighed in exasperation. "Come on, then. We have some things to do; let's get it over with..."

A few minutes later, they had been comfortably installed within the Main Building of Division 2. Well, Sui-Feng was comfortably installed, her bottom firmly nestled within the cushion of the over-stuffed leather armchair behind her heavy oak desk.

She always felt most comfortable here, in this chair and behind this desk.

They had belonged to Lady Yoruichi, who had gotten them from a Rukongai Black Market bust. The owner (doubtless some minor nobleman who had ordered but never received them) was never found, and Lady Yoruichi, whose eyes had gleamed with childlike desire at first sight, procured them on the spot. However, she had been forced to leave them behind shortly afterward when Kisuke Urahara and company had been forced out of Seireitei.

Upon her recent resurfacing, the woman who was Sui-Feng's object of worship and admiration made them a gift and had also given her the blessing of the former Captain of the Second Division and Commander-in-Chief of the Onmitsukido.

Sui-Feng knew which she treasured more.

But she loved the chair and desk, too.

However, her (rather considerable) delectation at being so pleasingly seated in so pleasurable a chair of comfort was (rather considerably) diminished, due to the presence of her new Lieutenant, and the rather taciturn answers he was giving in response to her rapid-fire questions.

"Height?"

"Six feet, even."

"Weight?"

"One-hundred fifty."

"Blood type?"

"O positive."

"Dominant hand?"

"Neither."

The scratching of the fountain pen she was writing all of this upon parchment with stopped. Sui-Feng looked up, a frown of confusion on her face. She glared pointedly at the hilt of the long blade at his right side, where his also-long fingers were beating a small, quick tattoo upon the sharkskin wrapping.

He noticed her gaze. "I'm ambidextrous. Born that way."

"You don't favor either at all?"

He paused a bit. "Well, I do prefer fighting with my right hand. I write with my left."

Sui-Feng cocked a brow. "Right-handed fighter? Why keep your blade on the right side, then?"

Tatter de Malion shrugged.

She sighed, taking advantage of the small break to observe him more closely. His tentoken had fallen back from his shoulders a bit, allowing her to see his patched and ragged shihakusho. He seemed to prefer the sleeveless version. A sensible choice, as this allowed for greater freedom of movement for his arms while fighting, and it also let her see the body present there. There were slash marks and other scars covering tanned skin, and under that skin was lean, corded muscle, the kind that came not from exercise, but from constant usage.

'Mmm-mmmmmm...'

Sui-Feng made a pointed show of ignoring her Zankakuto spirit, and resumed her questioning.

"Flash step endurance?"

"Two-hundred twenty-five steps."

She gave a nod of grudging respect. Shunpo mastery was reached at 250 steps in a row, and the current record-holder was still Yoruichi Shihoin at 467.

"Zanpakuto name?"

"Furui Hone."

"Bankai?"

"Yes."

Another nod of respect.

"Battle skills?"

He shifted. "What do you mean?"

She sighed and put an annoyed forehead upon the palm of her hand. "How do you fight? Do you go one-on-one, do you fight groups alone, do you prefer assassinations, do you use kido...?"

He blinked. "Oh." Another pause. "Well...I use whatever I need at the time...Kido fighting, dueling, assassinations, open warfare, guerrilla warfare, shock tactics, long-term tactics, traps, ambushes, traps and ambushes..."

Sui-Feng's eyes got progressively wider as his list went on, and, finally, she held up a hand. "Alright, I get it, I get it. You're experienced." She laced her fingers and rested her chin.

"Now," was her careful beginning. "We here at Division Two pride ourselves on being not seen or sensed. In any way, shape or form." A palm was placed flat upon the desk. A feeling of enjoyment passed through both her and her Zanpakuto at the clean, polished finish. Allowing it to center her, the diminutive woman leaned back in her chair a bit.

"Can you tell me," Sui-Feng slowly asked, "how many people are in this room?"

"Seen or unseen?" Was the quick response.

A black brow raised in interest. Most recruits just spit out the number, not bothering to differentiate, and in a business where the Devil was in the details, that was a major faux pas.

"Both."

"Including us?"

"Yes."

"Eight," he responded, almost before she was done talking.

"Very good. Now...where are they in this room?"

"One standing in front of the desk, one in the chair behind the desk, one in the space beneath the floor, one in the ceiling space, and four in each corner of the room," he said, indicating each spot as he spoke, and ending with the shadowed portions of the room where the ceiling and walls met.

Sui-Feng nodded. "Excellent. Now–"

"Only one of them is female."

"...What?"

"They're all male. Except one." And he pointed to the southwestern corner. "Her."

The Captain of Division Two stiffened in anger. "How did you know that?!"

"Smell."

"What?!" A pair of black eyes burned holes into that end of the chamber, and Sui-Feng seemed to quiver in rage. "Are you wearing perfume on your shift?!"

"No. She just started her period."

Sui-Feng stopped, half-risen out of her chair. "...What?"

An indignant shriek came from the shadows. "No, I didn't!"

Tatter de Malion turned toward the voice behind him. "Yes, you did. Check if you don't believe me."

A pregnant moment followed. Then...

"Um...Captain..."

Sui-Feng collapsed back in her chair, covering her eyes. "Dismissed, Midori."

A black shadow detached itself from the wall and slunk through the door, cursing.

"I will admit..." The Captain muttered, dragging her palm down her face in tired annoyance. "That was...impressive."

The comment was accepted with a short nod.

Putting the matter behind her in an effort to salvage the orientation, she folded her hands and placed them on her desk, and promptly launched into a very rote speech about how welcome he was and how glad she was he had been able to join...

'Blah blahblah blahblah...'

And for once, she was in complete accordance with her spirit.

Her attention was allowed to wander as she went through the speech that she knew by heart. It hopped from the lamp in the corner (a little something from Shunsui Kyoraku as a gift for getting Captaincy. "Office-warming gift", he'd said) to the picture of some vaguely Chinese-like watercolor that Omaeda had bought for her in order to suck up, and lastly to...

The fat fly buzzing its way toward her new Lieutenant.

She could tell by the way his head twitched ever-so-slightly that he'd noticed it as well.

And now the fun would begin.

It was a bit of an unofficial tradition. Every so often, when she was talking to her new recruits, a fly would get in, and then, if the opportunity presented itself, the recruit would snatch the fly out of the air and present it to her, beaming as if they were the "most capable and quickest and most able-bodied martial artist in the world".

It was annoying as hell, frankly,

Her eyes followed it with vague interest. It floated closer and closer to the man, buzz-buzz-buzzing to its fate in his hand. She saw him tense out of the corner of her eye as it flew close to his face.

She prepared to deliver a scathing retort to his prideful capture as his eyes tracked the fly, and she watched as...

His head shot forward and his teeth snapped closed.

Sui-Feng's words died in her throat as his jaws ground once and he swallowed.

A thick, heavy silence followed as all six observers gazed in shock.

She blinked at him. "You...did you...just...?"

He spat out a leg. "Did I just what?"

Sitting back hard in her chair, she pointed a finger at him. "You just ate a fly."

De Malion nodded. "Yes, I did."

"You just ate. A. Fly."

This nod was a slow one, the type a teacher would give a particularly stupid child. "Yes. I did."

Sui-Feng put her head in her hands. 'It is too late for this bullshit.' Without looking up, she managed to grate out, "Why did you eat the fly?"

"I was hungry."

Dear God above, he was either demented or stupid. Both were a strong possibility.

"So, you ate a fly because you were...hungry..."

"Well, it didn't have to be a fly. A fly just happened to be at hand."

At hand? He made a habit of this?

"Besides, insects are a quick and easy source of protein."

That was it.

"Leave. Just…leave. Report here early in the morning."

He started to say something, then seemed to change his mind. Turning on his heel, he sauntered toward the door and out into the Spring night.

Sui-Feng stared after him for a moment, then at her desk, and then at the ceiling. She had been warned. Shunsui Kyoraku had tried, and she appreciated the heads up, but she had no idea.

The Captain of Second Division and Commander-in-Chief of the Onmitsukido, arguably the second-most politically powerful person in Seireitei found herself alone in her office, shadows lengthening in the setting sun, now almost completely below the horizon.

It had been one of the longest days of her life.

She found herself wondering how the blazing hell she had gotten herself into this mess.

Sui-Feng then looked at her desk, where there was a mound of unfinished paper work to sign. She had forgotten to give him his share of it to take care of tonight.

And that was when she felt the last of her soul chain rust away in a mixture of rage, despair, and sheer annoyance.

'Better get on this...'

She picked up her pen, and-

Sensed a new presence at her door. A gentle reiatsu, one with a sense of patient world-weariness, as if the owner was used to being a buffer between the innocent and the evils infesting the different realms.

Sui-Feng sighed.

"Come in, Captain Unohana."

The stately woman quietly entered, a gentle-yet-firm look on her face as she closed the office door.

"May I sit down?"

Sui-Feng motioned to the chair across from her desk. "How can I help you?" She asked once her elder had made herself comfortable.

"It is about your conduct regarding one of our cadets this afternoon, Sui-Feng."

As Retsu Unohana prepared to mother-hen, the Captain of Division 2 felt another migraine coming on...