4. In the Beginning was the Idea. Then came the Happy Tree Friends.
Shizukashi has shown him many dreams of his goddess. In most of them, she sees herself as a black cat with yellow eyes. Just like the cat he found so long ago. A coincidence?
The more he sees of her dreams, the more he becomes convinced that his goddess had, indeed, been a feline in one of her former lives. She exudes the same grace in motion, the same single-mindedness in hunt, and the same viciousness in her kills. Swift and merciless.
At the same time, he realizes that her view of him has changed. It is almost imperceptible, but there are differences in her behavior towards him. She doesn't harp on him so often anymore for forgoing training in favor of his experiments. She knows when his absentmindedness stems from preoccupation with a scientific problem, or whether he does it just to annoy her.
What has Shizukashi shown her? Some of the dreams where he fantasizes about the possibilities of each of his little projects? Some of the dreams where he delves into her body over and over again?
In a sudden bout of inspiration, he has fetched the cat gigai out of storage. The black fur is as sleek as ever, and when he lifts its lifeless eyelids with his thumb, he can see glassy, yellow orbs. The cat soul, which he hasn't needed to study for several months now, has somehow gotten over its fear of him. It strokes its body against his legs, rubbing its head against his hakama. Then, it soundlessly jumps on a pile of crates, settling itself in a statue-like position.
How well he can imagine his goddess in a similar position.
If he could, he would give her the cat gigai as a present. But since she is neither a mod-soul nor a soul-candy, she cannot use the gigai as he wants her to. She needs a human gigai, as close to her form as possible. This is so that she can easily enter and exit it. The further a gigai is from the shinigami's true form, the more uncomfortable it will be to wear.
But, he continues his thread of thought, what if she entered a human gigai that changed into a cat?
Excitedly, he scrawls several inky sketches on a stack of rice paper that he always keeps close for sudden ideas like this one. If he somehow could overcome the mass difference, and provided that all the nerves and muscles and connections changed in the right way, it should be possible for a shinigami to operate a cat body. The only problem would be the completely different set of instincts and motions.
He thinks back to the black stray under the blooming sakura tree. She certainly seems cat-like enough that she actually could make it work.
Immediately, he immerses himself in calculations, sketches, and possible solutions to his many problems. He is so focused on his work that he almost doesn't hear the sigh of, "Finally!" at the back of his mind. He pauses briefly to see if he has actually heard it. It didn't sound like Benihime. Shizukashi?
When no quick answer comes forth, he forgets it and goes back to his new invention.
That night – and as many of the following nights as possible – he returns to the side of his sleeping goddess with an unconscious, paralyzed cat under his arm. One time, he had actually run across Soi Fong like that, and she had raised an eyebrow so high that it had almost vanished under her bangs. He had muttered something about cat fur being good for rheumatic pains and muscle ailments. She had graciously reminded him that this specific cat was still alive, and that it had better be alive tomorrow. He had looked at her with the hurt look he had practiced for such occasions. In the end, she had fled, not wanting to know what he was going to do with the cat and her captain.
Laying the stiff cat on the futon next to his sleeping goddess, he delves into their bodies in a way he never before has. He compares their organs, the way they differ in shape and size, how they are connected to the rest of their bodies, and where they are located relative to each other. He compares their skeletons and how their bones are shaped. He feels for muscles and tendons, and for the hundreds of thousands of small blood vessels that surround them.
He tries to work out what he will have to change in which order for a human body to transform painlessly into a cat and back again, without dislodging the soul in the process.
While he is working, he can feel Shizukashi and Benihime looking over his shoulder. Sometimes, they even point out some things he has overlooked, like how to fit a human brain into a cat skull. Other times, they are merely supportive presences.
And every once in a while, he dreams about a black cat with yellow eyes, in a springtime meadow. Only now he isn't sure anymore whether it is his dream or hers.
All officers in his division, and most of his friends, know better than to interrupt him while he is busy with experiments. His laboratory is off-limits for everyone unless he specifically invites them.
Kurosaki-kun is somewhat of an exception there. Kurosaki-kun tends to…forget such trivialities as closed doors. Whenever he gets in one of his 'Daddy'-moods, it is better to stand aside and limit collateral damage than to outright try and stop him. As usual, he has Ukitake-kun and Kyouraku-kun in tow. Ukitake-kun actually looks apologetic, whereas Kyouraku-kun just looks drunk. Kurosaki-kun doesn't look drunk, but he is bouncing around worse than a five-year-old on fire.
Urahara raises an eyebrow at the white-haired man. "What the hell did you do to him?"
In the background, Kurosaki-kun babbles something about a "pretty kitty," and how he is going to be an "exemplary father" to the little kittens that "pretty kitty" will have one day, and how such a pretty kitty is strong and brave to stay in the division of butchers and mad scientist.
Ukitake-kun winces slightly. "Eating contest with Yachiru-fukutaichou."
Kyouraku-kun snorts, leaning against the door. "More like food-fight."
"With Yachiru-chan?" The scientist winces, too. "If he is that bad, what does she look like?"
"Hope and pray that the chaos and mayhem of eleventh doesn't swap over into your division," the womanizing samurai grunts.
In the background, Kurosaki-kun pokes the cat gigai on the table a few times, the real one having fled the room as soon as his visitors arrived. Smart cat. He wishes he could do the same.
Ukitake-kun tries to cheer him up. "At least Kenpachi-taichou knows how to keep her busy enough to minimize damage."
"Last time Kenpachi kept her busy enough, half of our division needed new windows and a new coating of paint," Urahara comments dryly. He can still remember all those more or less bloody stick-figure renditions of each and every one of Kenpachi's fights. When Yachiru had run out of painting space in eleventh, she had continued on to twelfth. And with her great strength, she had shattered every window she had tried to paint.
Kyouraku-kun chortles and takes a swig from his bottle. His straw hat covers his lazy eyes, and Urahara thinks he should get one, too. It looks cool. Only, maybe not straw; straw in his hair itches.
"This time, they're playing 'Happy Tree Friends', I think." The samurai gestures in the vague direction of eleventh.
Kurosaki-kun is still poking the cat gigai on the table, growing more and more agitated as it doesn't respond. He mumbles something about having to save the "pretty kitty," and Daddy curing it from its illness.
Urahara is still a little bit leery about Yachiru's seemingly harmless occupation. "And just what does playing 'Happy Tree Friends' entail?"
Ukitake-kun shrugs. "Murdering every fluffy little animal, like cats and bunnies, in as many different, gruesome ways as possible. We left when Ayasegama-san's plush collection ran out."
"Made their way over to my division," Kyouraku-kun adds helpfully, "to see if Rangiku-chan still has some toys from her childhood." (2)
"Rangiku-chan? You mean Matsumoto Rangiku? Your well-endowed eighths seat that loves to cuddle anything small and fluffy? The one with the zanpakutou that dissolves into ash?" Urahara looks back and forth between the two of them with growing horror. He has heard that Matsumoto likes her sake strong and plentiful, and that as often as possible, thank you very much. Combined with Yachiru's sugar high...
Both men look absolutely calm and inordinately composed in the face of impending chaos. Not that he would have expected anything else from the two laid-back captains, but this is about a 8.9 on the disaster-scale.
Then he shrugs. Chaos is good for creation, or so he has heard. "I'll tell my people to prepare their brooms then," he comments. After brief consideration he adds, "Especially for the hail of Sakura blossoms afterwards."
"Sakura blossoms?" the white-haired man asks curiously. Even Kyouraku-kun looks interested.
"Sure," Urahara shrugs. "If they make it far enough before she runs out of steam, they'll land in sixth. And I don't know if you've heard it or not, but ever since Kuchiki-san has shut her up with confetti candy, she has taken a special liking to him. I'll bet you anything that she manages to annoy him enough to call out his Senbonzakura."
Ukitake-kun's eyes widen disproportionately. "Now that I think of it – doesn't she have a 'special relationship' with Komamura-san, too?"
Kyouraku-kun gestures with his sake bottle, miraculously not spilling anything onto his expensive haori. "You call trying to scribble on his head with permanent marker a 'special relationship'?"
"When she calls him 'Koma-Koma' and tries to murder anything fluffy and animal-like?"
Well, color him impressed. Urahara has never heard his friend so frazzled before. Perhaps the white-haired man is a little bit closer to losing his cool than he had thought.
The eternally drunk samurai seems to realize that, too, and tries to calm their mutual friend down. "Relax, Juu-kun! The worst Komamura's going to do to her is throw her out. He doesn't like fighting in general, and fighting children in particular. And, anyways, Kenpachi's watching out for her. Neither Komamura nor Kuchiki are going to kill her. Here, have a taste of sake; that helps."
Before Kyouraku-kun can make good on his offer though, a massive explosion shakes the room, followed by the stink of ozone mixed with singed hair.
"What the…?"
All three of them whip around, only to discover Kurosaki-kun standing there with his hands outstretched, pointing towards the cat gigai. Both his hands and the gigai are smoking slightly, and from the frizzled state of Kurosaki's hair, Urahara would say that it had been a lightening kidou that had misfired somewhat spectacularly.
Tears are running down Kurosaki-kun's face, leaving clean trails on his sooty, unshaven cheeks. When he starts wailing about "poor neko-chan still being dead after Daddy's selfless attempts at reviving it," Urahara finally puts two and two together.
Eyes wide, the blond scientist rushes towards the cat gigai, trying to see if that lunatic has damaged it in any way.
"Juushirou, take him out of here now," he snarls. Both of the older captains know that when Urahara uses their first names, without honorifics, he really means it.
Without protest, they sidle up to Kurosaki-kun's sides and take him into their middle. Kyouraku-kun even goes so far as to thread his free arm under Kurosaki's to get a better grip on him. Together, they steer him out of the room, with Ukitake-kun trying to console the heart-wrenching sobs of Kurosaki's melt-down.
Urahara is so immersed in checking the cat gigai for any damage that he fails to notice his friends' last apologetic glances before they vanish around the corner.
Outwardly, the misfired lightening hadou hasn't done more than singe a few hairs on the cat's body. That is more than a miracle, considering the sheer destructive power of that type of kidou.
Inside though, the story looks completely different. Most organs and bones are affected, but not from typical electrical damage. Instead, they show strange signs of spontaneous inflation, reshaping, and mutation.
Acting on a hunch, he places the body on a set of scales. Two hundred grams heavier than it should be.
A nearly insane light ignites behind his eyes, making them glow in scientific glee. He can feel it – no; he is so close that he can almost taste it! He has found it, the breakthrough he has been waiting for all this time! He has found the beginning of a way to the solution of most of his problems!
Cackling madly, he rubs his hands together. With his whole enthusiasm, he throws himself into his work, never noticing the soft flakes of ash sinking to the ground outside. Anything besides the altered gigai becomes secondary. The visit of his three friends is already long forgotten. He also never notices the hail of Sakura blossoms half an hour later.
Only when he needs the real cat again to compare it to the gigai's modifications does everything come back.
Screaming for someone to save the cat from the 'Happy Tree Friends', he runs outside into ankle-height, ash-grey Sakura petals. He curses.
(2) I placed Matsumoto into eighth division because there's the best way to learn how to become one of those drunken, sex-obsessed people. Where else could she have gotten her … outgoing character?