Okay, I'm sick of waiting for 3 more people to review, because it obviously is not going to happen, and I feel terrible for making the two people who actually took the time to review, Aisufurawa and hitsugayataichouda, wait. All my love to the two of you, okay? thanks so much! Also, as seeing how well the previous tactic turned out, my update system has changed: you take your time to review, and I'll take my time to write. School has started, I'm in my final secondary school year where the homework piles on mercilessly, not to mention last year I swore to not write during school term, but here I am. On a lighter note, enjoy the chapter!

(oh, and also, when it comes to solving the mystery of this story, Aisufurawa has pointed out something incredibly important...)

Disclaimer: no, Bleach is not mine, and it probably isn't yours either.


PART VII

'Fishcakes!' screeched Yachiru as she hurled herself into the Fourth Division, pelting the office with said processed product. 'Okay, Icchi-chi! Lead the way! While they're busy fighting the fishcakes!'

Ichigo gaped at the chaos within the office. How on earth could a packet of lumps of fish paste do…this?

'Help! Don't let them touch me!' an oddly tall female leapt onto a desk, scattering papers everywhere.

'Kotetsu-fukutaichou! Calm down, they're only fishcakes!'

'Shh! Don't say that word here!'

'Why?'

'AAAGH! Fishcakes! Get them away from me! Shoo! Shoo!'

'Kotetsu-fukutaichou, if you could please come down from that desk? I mean, after all, they are only-'

'Only fishcakes? They're fishcakes! AAAGH! There's another one!' the officer on the table, whom Ichigo presumed to be this mysterious "Kotetsu-fukutaichou" was in hysterics. Clasping a hand to her chest, she breathed deeply. 'I must stop saying that word…' she muttered to herself, although she adamantly stayed on the desk while Yamada Hanatarou cowered at her ankles.

Yachiru first realised that the uproar she had intended to cause was dying rather quickly. Picking a fishcake off the floor at her feet, she sent it flying with amazing accuracy right under Isane's nose, screaming, 'FISHCAKES!' at the top of her lungs. 'Hurry, Icchi-chi! It's okay, the fishcakes won't hurt them!' she whispered into his ear from her perch on his shoulders. 'Faster! Sake-san must run too!'

They turned tail and fled as if they'd perpetrated yet another heinous crime before colliding with none other but the one and only Unohana-taichou and her infamous braid.

Smiling threateningly at Ichigo's extended height, 'and what do we owe to this pleasure, Kusajishi-fukutaichou, Kurosaki-san, Matsumoto-fukutaichou?' she inquired gently, gesturing towards the office and the fishcakes flying out the door one by one, bouncing off the corridor walls.

Matsumoto hastily shoved a bottle into her sleeve and stuffed a small brown packet down the collar of her uniform.

'Why, Braidy-lady! How nice to meet you! Aren't my manners nice? Momomomomo taught them to me!' Yachiru changed the subject brightly.

'Yes, they happen to be at this moment in time, Kusajishi-fukutaichou, but kindly answer my question as to what you are doing causing chaos in my division,' Unohana continued smoothly as a fishcake bounced off the corridor wall and hurtled back into the room where a shrill scream deafened all.

'Well,' Yachiru began, a finger placed thoughtfully on her chin that was crinkled with a little pout. 'Because we thought Braidy-lady was having a date and raisin with her boy-toy!' she finished happily, offering a fishcake she had caught mid-flight to Unohana.

The Taichou breathed deeply with her eyes closed and one hand on her chest.

It must have been some medically-proven tactic. Or a female thing, Ichigo concluded, popping the fishcake that Unohana had rejected into his mouth.

Sending a disgusted look his way, Unohana continued once again, unruffled. 'I meant, Kusajishi-fukutaichou, what did you intend to do in my division?'

'Hmm, didn't Braidy-lady say that just now? To cause chaos!'

'And after the chaos?' she continued patiently.

Unohana must have been pretty experienced in this field, Ichigo gathered. He would have stopped the interrogation once Yachiru had confessed to the chaos…

'We were going to have a tea-party with Momomomomo. Would you like to not join us?' the small girl suggested.

'Try not to burn the building down…again,' Unohana-taichou sighed. 'Any questions?'

'Me!' cried Yachiru. 'What's lingerie?'

The head doctor of Seireitei wisely ignored her. 'Have fun with your…tea party, Kusajishi-fukutaichou, while I go get some cures for hangovers. You will take them later, won't you?' she smiled pointedly at Matsumoto.


'Tell me a story,' Hinamori mumbled, a small sake cup slipping out of her grasp. Yachiru draped herself across Momo's midsection chewing on a sugared biscuit. 'Yeah, Icchi-chi, tell us a story!'

'Uh, okay? Um, once upon a time, there lived a, um, a…princess! Her name was Princess…uh, Princess Longhair! Rangiku-san, help me out a little? Ah, never mind! One day, Prince Not-as-charming-as-me met her while he was playing polo on a great green field.'

'What's polo?' Matsumoto asked.

'It's kind of like golf on a horse…'

'And golf is?'

'You whack a tiny little ball with a skinny stick.'

'Oh. Alright. Continue,' she sat back, thoroughly enjoying the teen's adlib fairytale.

'And, when Prince Not-as-charming-as-me swung his skinny stick, it…uh…cut off a lot of her hair!'

'Why? Was it sharp?'

'Yes, very. So after that, Princess Longhair was terribly upset and punched Prince Not-as-charming-as-me squarely in the nose.'

'Ooh, action!' Yachiru squealed.

'And after that, they both took a good look in the mirror and found out that, very unfortunately, they would both have to change their names to Princess Shorthair and Prince Not-charming-at-all, and they lived unhappily ever after. The end.'

'Did they marry?' Yachiru asked, reaching for another biscuit.

'Oh, no,' Ichigo smiled. 'Mary already has a faithful partner in the form of a pasture animal. It follows her loyally everywhere. Apparently it has a fleece as white as snow. I can't imagine why though…'

'Hmm,' the young pink-haired girl pondered. 'Sounds like Chibi-kun. Does that mean Chibi-kun and Momomomomo are married?'

'Who, me?' mumbled a not-quite-lucid voice from under Yachiru while Matsumoto sprayed Ichigo with a mouthful of sake and sugared biscuit crumbs.

'Hey, 'Chiru-chan, how about I tell you a story?' Matsumoto suggested, sending Ichigo a glare.

'Okay! Tell, tell!'

'Alright. Long, long ago,' the Fukutaichou of the Tenth Division began.

'Oh no, not another one of those,' groaned Ichigo.

Matsumoto frowned. 'Shush, this one's actually good,' she crammed a handful of sugared biscuits fiercely into Ichigo's mouth. 'Long, long ago, there lived a dragon. He was very big and very powerful. He could turn anything he wanted into ice just by looking at it.'

At this, Yachiru gasped. 'Stronger than Ken-chan?'

Matsumoto smiled at her innocence. 'Much stronger. He was a very important dragon to everyone. The land was peaceful because nobody dared challenge him; the weather never became too hot because the dragon was so cold. In fact, sometimes it became too cold. One day, the dragon disappeared and the weather took a turn for the worse. Many believed the dragon had died, and grieved for him. Eventually, it became so hot that plants couldn't grow well and water was scarce. When rain came, it came it torrents and would flood the entire land for many days. Everyone could only wait and hope the dragon would return to them in a reincarnated form.'

'Well, that's one bright and happy story,' commented Ichigo, who immediately earned a hit on the head from Matsumoto.

'Shut up. I'm not done,' she shot out rudely.

'I may have heard that story somewhere…' Hinamori mumbled, rubbing her aching head. 'Someone told me not to tell it to someone…uh…or was it someone said that they weren't…Rangiku-san, I think I have a headache.'

'Here, take this. It'll make you feel better,' the blond woman handed the younger shinigami a bottle of sake which she downed trustingly.

Yachiru looked Matsumoto straight in the eye. 'Didn't the dragon have a real friend? The people in the story didn't really sound like his friends. Didn't the dragon have someone like…' she trailed off quietly. 'Like how Ken-chan became my daddy?'

'Well,' Matsumoto chose her words carefully. 'I suppose he did have one very close friend that-'

The door burst open, revealing Isane, chaos, and a fishcake.

'It's a fishcake!' she screamed, brandishing the small wobbling lump in Matsumoto's face before dropping it daintily into the dustbin with a look of utter disgust plastered across her face. 'How gross.'

She paused contemplatively, considering the fishcake seriously. 'Everyone out. I am going to purge the Fourth Division of vermin such as this,' she toed the dustbin, 'by today. Everyone out! Shoo, shoo!'

'But, but I'm the patient!'

'Out! Come back tonight!' Isane whipped out a pair of chopsticks and glared fiercely at the slowly-disbanding tea party.


A tall, thin figure reached out a skeletal hand, pulling down a hood to shield its eyes as it stepped from the shadow of the large white building into a narrow, immaculately tiled alley surrounded by many other similar buildings. It smirked, lifting a corner of the hood with a single bony finger, taking in its surroundings with a piercing, blue-green eye.

Silently, a rip appeared, tearing itself seamlessly from its surroundings. Stepping into the void that it provided, the figure cast one last look across its shoulder.

'Arigatou, Shinigami-san.'