Chapter 5: Penitence Detention Facility, Sougyoku Hills
Ichigo was waiting in the visitor's lounge of the detention center. A traffic jam downtown contrived to make him later than he wanted to be, but he still got there in good time. The mid-afternoon light was bright and the weather was balmy. He felt oddly excited, even giddy. Ichigo was not one to force his attentions on anyone before -- much less someone accused of a horrible crime.
Even if Penitence was a minimum security facility, Ichigo was still patted down by a tired-looking guard equipped with a sling bag. His lips were pursed, as if he was weighing something in his mind.
"What?" Ichigo demanded, as he handed over his standard Glock 17 for safekeeping. "I don't have all the time in the world, buddy."
"We like to take our time here at Penitence," the guard spoke up. "Are you in a hurry?"
"Yeah," the inspector tried to rein in his impatience. Ichigo didn't come here to chat with Rukia's gaoler; he came to chat with her. "The person I need to talk to -- well, she doesn't have all the time in world until her re-trial starts. So yeah, time is of the essence."
"Is that so." The young guard finally finished his inspection, and took possession of the contents of Ichigo's pockets, including the tape recorder he had just bought. "Sir, no items of any kind are allowed in the visitor's room," he explained apologetically. "You'll get these back when you leave. It's policy, just in case the inmates get weird ideas."
The frown was forthcoming, but Ichigo controlled his features. He could not imagine this particular inmate to start a hostage situation with a tape recorder. Still, there could always be a first time.
The guard -- the embroidered nameplate on his uniform said H. Yamada -- led Ichigo to the visitor's area. "You have thirty minutes. There is always a guard watching on the other side of the wall. You are not allowed to address the other inmates or their visitors. Please remember to keep your hands on the table where they are visible, and you are not allowed to touch each other. Repeated failure to comply may revoke the prisoner's visitation privileges."
Revoke the prisoner's privileges. Ichigo knew all these rules but he never paid much attention to them before. He wondered how he would feel, if freedoms he had always taken for granted were suddenly labeled privileges.
He shook his head. Now was not the time to contemplate such things.
Ichigo sat down in the sparsely furnished room. He was more nervous than he cared to admit. Despite the circumstances he felt he was on a first date. There were two or three other inmates in the area, already deep in quiet conversation with their visitors. Ichigo could easily identify the one-way mirror and the location of a discreet security camera. He placed his hands on the table and looked around. The only difference between this room and the one used for interrogation of suspects down at the Met headquarters was the television that was left blaring in the corner. Most likely the guards also used the room during lights out, there was no other reason to account for its presence. Right now, the television was used as a means to disguise confidential exchanges. Ichigo knew that sort of trick never really worked, but he was amused by the effort.
"…The Commonwealth of Karakura, touted as "the Gateway to Asia" by the glossy tourist brochures, is a handful of islands located south of Taiwan and north of the Philippines. In the middle of the South China Sea and the Pacific Ocean, the Commonwealth is unique for its growing number of islands due to volcanic eruptions, with the island locally known as Hueco Mundo being the largest of the newly formed landmasses, the direct result of the Great Earthquake of 1927.
Despite its strategic location, Karakura has never figured greatly in world events, preferring to stay a secluded and select destination for the well traveled. Briefly colonized by England in the 18th century, it was always a hub for traders from Spain, China, and India while becoming the new home for several Japanese clans seeking to enlarge their fiefdoms during the late Edo period. Occupied by the imperial forces during World War II, Karakura gained its autonomy upon the signing of the Treaty of Seireitei. The Commonwealth is led by its symbolic head of state, the reclusive monarch known as…"
"Are they still showing that history reel? They haven't changed that since I was in high school."
Ichigo was startled. Her voice was velvety and deep; it was not quite what he imagined.
Rukia Kuchiki sat down across him, and the guard tried to hide his approval before moving away.
"I think it's stuck on the government channel," Ichigo finally answered. Why did he sound apologetic for the facilities? "Someone must have taken away the remote control."
"…and you know this because…?"
"I use my eyes and ears very well." Ichigo pointed casually the control panel across the room. "See? Someone jammed it."
She seemed puzzled that he would notice such a silly thing. "Seems like you use your mouth a lot, too."
The sarcasm in her voice was mild but biting. Ichigo turned his attention to the woman sitting opposite him.
This was going to be difficult; Ichigo didn't realize how lovely she was. The distance kept between him and Rukia Kuchiki in the courthouse was apparently too much. Her hair had a shiny rich gloss, and her skin was translucent and clear. In fact, she was in much better condition than the last time Ichigo saw her in court almost a week ago.
The offending red collar was still in the way, of course. Wouldn't it be so nice to rip it off and gently fondle and nip her neck?
Ichigo unconsciously shook himself. He had no idea where that lustful thought came from.
She surveyed him with slight distaste. Obviously Rukia could tell what had momentarily crossed his mind, or perhaps it was on all the minds of her visitors. She had struck up a tentative friendship with one of the nicer guards. He was the one who to screened the worst of the curious scumbags. Female inmates who figure in national scandals get a lot of unwanted male attention, Hanatarou explained.
Hanatarou went through the trouble of weeding out the nasty and obscene messages that came in her "fan" mail. If he was actually paid to do this, however, he never said. Rukia took it as a matter of fact that the facility would open everyone's mail.
Why this visitor got through Hanatarou's radar, Rukia Kuchiki would like to find out. There had been another inspector from the Met whom Hanatarou didn't let through. Something about the man's wide smiles made him wary. Rukia briefly considered that maybe Hanatarou had a crush on her, but she brushed that thought aside.
The orange-haired officer's mouth was still agape.
"Why are you here?" she said curtly to stop his staring.
"I'm here to ask you some follow-up questions."
"Who sent you? Are you really with the police? I don't think this is official, because the Met informs my barrister, Mr. Kanonji, ahead of time. I don't answer any questions without him." She paused, and it was pregnant with meaning. "Or are you just another pervert who gets off staring at helpless women?"
"No one sent me," Ichigo's face reddened. "The guard can verify that my badge is real. I came because I think you need me."
"You're mistaken, I have no need of the Met. Haven't you inspectors done enough damage?"
The bitterness in Rukia's tone was unmistakable.
"Look, the original inspectors who worked your case," Ichigo explained, "They screwed it up big time. I want to help you by getting to the truth."
"The last time someone said I should just tell them the truth," Rukia arched an eyebrow, "I found myself shackled with handcuffs and being called a liar."
"I'm not here to pick a fight," Ichigo raised his voice. "But I won't stand for being compared to other officers who were possibly incompetent." Rukia opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off. "Nobody asked me to be here, but I am anyway. And I am trying to find new evidence, on my own time. So if don't want my help -- if you don't care about finding who really killed your sister -- if you really trust your brother-in-law -- "
Self-doubt crept into her sullen expression. Her arms were still crossed, as if she was protecting herself from his gaze from across the table, but her face had already crumbled into an ashen sadness.
"I didn't mean to be rude," she finally forced herself to speak. "Please sit down."
Ichigo hadn't realized that he was so worked up that he was half out of his chair. He sat back down again.
"Please understand, I feel as if I've been under duress for the past month." It wasn't an apology – it was an explanation. "I have been made to feel that there is no one left to trust." Unconsciously, Rukia fingered the collar on her neck. "And I don't like feeling as if I belong in a zoo."
"Understood." Ichigo wanted to kick himself for starting off on the wrong foot. "I'm not a sensitive guy. I will try to keep these things in mind." He took a deep breath. There was no way tactful way to ask what really bothered him, and so Ichigo didn't mince his words. "Do you think Byakuya Kuchiki set you up?"
"I don't know," Rukia reluctantly admitted. Apparently she thought about that too, but had never verbalized her doubts. "He's paying for the barristers but he has never come to see me. I know he used his connections to get me placed here, instead of the cramped cell in the Seireitei outpost or the maximum security gaol in Hueco Mundo. Mr. Kanonji managed to argue that this location is best for me, since the trial was held here and not in Seireitei." There was a fleeting spark of amusement in her glance. "I fear that was the last convincing argument Mr. Kanonji was able to make on my behalf."
Ichigo managed a small smile but his mind was distracted. His blood chilled at the thought of this small woman being sentenced to Hueco Mundo. Everybody from the mainland avoided all mention of the island northernmost of the Karakura archipelago. It was harsh and desolate. The landscape was daunting, with an active volcanic crater constantly spewing lava and metamorphic rock, slowly changing the island's shape over the years. One side of the island housed the national mental asylum; the other side contained the hardened convicts. Death was supposed to be preferable to a mandatory confinement there.
Rukia noticed his intent expression and continued. "Only Grandfather Kuchiki visits me here, and even he stopped coming. I think… Nii-sama forbade him to see me."
Ichigo waited to hear more.
"When my sister asked me to stay with them, the only thing Nii-sama said was, I should quit my job. No sister-in-law of his should need to work. I thought he was being kind to Hisana, but I realized it was also… pride." Rukia checked herself.
"You have a job?" Ichigo was surprised. "It's not mentioned in your file."
Rukia flushed indignantly. "Of course I have a job! I supported myself since I was released from the orphanage at the age of seventeen! First I did lots of odd jobs but I finally got work I liked. Have you never heard of my book, The Adventures of Chappy the Bunny?" Ichigo shook his head. "It's a picture book for young children. The editors – they like my drawings. I was commissioned to make a sequel. But maybe the books won't sell anymore..." she seemed more sad about the fate of her sequel than her own situation.
Ichigo wished he could record this conversation. He would like to check her work out and he knew he was bound to forget the title she just mentioned. If only, he thought to himself darkly, as supplementary research – for her psychological profiling.
"I don't want to be thought ungrateful, Inspector, so I've been trying to live up to the family expectations, but -- " her sigh was audible. "As you see, it's been a failure."
Ichigo tapped his forehead. He wasn't sure if they had a lot of time left. "Do you think Byakuya set you up?" he repeated the question.
"I don't know," she answered. " A man like Nii-sama, he wouldn't marry just anyone. Most likely he was pressured to marry someone posh, like a Shiba or a Shihoin -- " here Ichigo smirked, having never thought of his boss as posh " -- and my sister was nobody. Hisana made that clear to me. She felt very guilty we were separated as children, but it's not her fault that the family that adopted her could only take in one. They weren't on the level of the Kuchikis, not in a thousand years."
"So Byakuya married for love but his treatment of you – taking care of the barristers, using his influence to get you into a minimum security facility – this is merely out of obligation."
Rukia flinched. "If you must put it that way."
His eyes narrowed with unmistakable passion. "Now that we got that clear, maybe you can help me. Do you trust your barristers?"
"Not all the time."
"Did you tell them everything you know?"
"Some things," she shrugged, "They never asked."
"Tell me," he said, "Did they ask you why you didn't bring your sister to the hospital?"
Rukia looked uncomfortable. "But Hisana didn't want to be brought to the hospital anymore."
"What! Your sister is violently ill, vomiting blood, delirious, with an abnormal blood pressure, and you don't stop to bring her to the emergency room against her objections? Her seizures alone should have -- "
Her eyes blazed and stared Ichigo down. "You don't understand! Hisana hated the hospital. She wanted to die in peace. I thought she was just having another one of her attacks. She was like that almost every week since she found me. One year together, and we spent half of our time in the sick room."
Ichigo could not hold that gaze. There was too much pain there. He looked away, ashamed that he was pushing her.
Rukia continued. "Right after finding her, I had to immune myself to the idea I would lose her any moment. Not many people know but my sister was very ill. That mini-hospital in the house? That was equipped for Hisana's comfort but everyone was told, including the police, that it belonged to Grandfather Kuchiki." Rukia closed her eyes, as if remembering something painful. "Hisana hid her pain very well when she had social functions to attend, but the truth of the matter is, Hisana was dying of a dreadful disease. She tried various remedies to ease her suffering. She didn't even tell me what it was. She wanted to save Nii-sama from the shame."
So this is the real reason why it was stipulated in Hisana's will that no one was to touch her remains after death, except immediate family members. How convenient for her murderer. His misdeeds would go undiscovered if her corpse was never embalmed or autopsied.
"Inspector Kurosaki?" she asked. "Did you hear what I just said?"
"Yes, I did, I was just thinking…." Ichigo cleared his throat and then changed the topic. "Why are you telling me this now?"
She looked down at his large hands. They had remained flat on the table, motionless, since they began their interview. "You asked me if I trusted Nii-sama," she whispered. "Nobody ever asked me if I doubted him before."
Ichigo was irritated. "Nii-sama. You keep referring to Byakuya Kuchiki as Nii-sama. What does that mean, exactly?"
"Older esteemed brother," Rukia answered. "I've never called him anything else. Hisana asked me to call him that. It honors their family traditions. One of the last things she begged of me was to be obedient to the family since they were all I had left."
Ichigo didn't want to point out the painful irony of her words. Rukia didn't seem to notice her own lapse, as she rambled on. "The Kuchiki clan is the first important Japanese clan to settle in the Commonwealth in the 17th century. They predate everyone else – but they're all related – the Shihoin, the Aizen, the Shiba, the Abarai. All these families originate from the same han. Perhaps it didn't occur to you that the Kurosaki might be related to them, too?"
The inspector felt that this speculation was beyond the point. "I don't bother much with ancestry," Ichigo stated.
"Maybe you should," Rukia retorted. "A lot of things problems in the present can be traced to the wrong-doings in the distant past."
"Time's almost up, sir," Hanatarou materialized by their table.
Ichigo looked up and nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow again, Rukia." He looked at her with a fleeting ghost of a smile. "Better think of things to help me get you out of this mess."
Rukia blinked. After all her revelations, she seemed to grow remote once more. "Does my full cooperation mean you get to call me by my first name, Inspector?"
He considered that for a moment, as he stopped to turn by the door. "I guess it does. But don't worry -- you can call me anything you want."
As the heavy metal bars slammed shut between them, Rukia Kuchiki was left to consider into the empty space before her. She didn't have time to think of a witty retort.
Another guard hustled her back into her holding cell.
As she heard the repugnant sound of the gaoler's key turning in the lock, Rukia lay down upon her bed. She couldn't see out her barred window even if she tried. It was too high up against the wall but it still filtered in the glow of the fading sunset. The natural light was still more pleasant than the harsh electric lights of the facility after dark.
They would be turning the lights on soon, and she wouldn't be able to escape the unpleasantness of the drab concrete walls that was choking her spirit.
Rukia didn't want to disappoint herself -- she had been at the point of despair and this well-meaning young inspector didn't seem to know what he was doing -- but still, against her better judgment, a tiny flicker of hope began to grow.
Perhaps Rukia Kuchiki wasn't totally forsaken by the world, after all.
I haven't had the time to reply, but I'm really grateful to receive so many kind comments and reviews so far. Thanks very much. :) So stay tuned for the new chapters next week.
And yes, I must thank Adam and wickedliz for playing the grammar police to these chapters.
