((Oh gawd, the angst in this one. Well, everyone has their breaking point I suppose. Especially people repressing negative emotions for centuries. Anyway, if it's of any note, I've been listening to the wordless version of One by Apocalyptica. Really fits the angst part, and you'll know when that part starts.))
It was from what felt like a very long nap that Ichimin finally awoke from, seeing the ceiling of a Fourth division hospital room. How did she get here? Closing her eyes again, she attempted to recall what had happened. Had she been fighting some sort of hollow? Been attacked again? She couldn't recall. It was as if some portion of her mind was wiped clean, and it infuriated her.
'What the hell happened?'
She rolled over with difficulty to face the door, her muscles stiff from disuse. Someone was in the room, and they were too busy to notice her movement. Ichimin caught sight of them in the corner, apparently getting out new dressings.
"…Hey…"
She rasped, and the figure turned to reveal that kid Hanatarou, now freaking out about Ichimin being awake.
"Y-you're conscious! With that sort of wound, we'd thought-"
Ichimin blew him off for the moment to reach up and touch her forehead, feeling something there.
"What wounds. What happened to me?"
She was demanding answers from him now, and the young man turned to the door.
"I-I've got to get Captain Unohana. She wanted someone to get her if you woke up."
'If I woke up? If?'
"Hey, don't-"
But he was already gone, and Ichimin was left to lay in bed and attempt to remember what she could. All she could recall was the meeting and sentencing of Rukia, and then walking…and that was it. There was a noticeable blank spot and it was pissing her off. And right when she was swearing under her breath for it, the figure of Fourth's Captain moved through the door to close it behind her softly.
"C…Captain Unohana."
Said woman turned at Ichimin's awkward mumblings, walking closer and looking her over.
"Hm…if you are awake, then I'll assume that you're going to recover."
She spoke, while taking a hard look at Ichimin's head. The Fifth seat growled.
"WHAT head wounds?!" She half-shouted, losing her temper. That was odd; she could normally keep it under rein so easy. Immediately, Ichimin realized what she had done and shook her head.
"S…sorry, Captain. I don't know what happened. I just want some information."
Unohana looked closer, before sitting down on the end of the bed.
"Apparently, you were traveling back to Eighth division still intoxicated from the night before. You were found in the street with a severe head injury, from what is assumed to be a fall. There were no witnesses to whether this is true or not, but it seems to be the most logical answer."
Ichimin was about to speak, but Unohana cut her off.
"Because you have regained consciousness, we will assume that you will recover near fully. But it was a serious injury; there will no doubt be some effects from it. They may be mild or severe; we will have to watch and see."
Ichimin blinked, now allowed to speak apparently.
"E…effects? What kind of effects would this have?"
She wasn't sure if she bought the fall story yet, but the Captain did and she WAS pretty drunk that night and was still seeing double when she was talking to Rukia. It made sense. But Ichimin had always had enough sense not to make deadly jumps when that level of drunk; it wasn't a level of drunkenness that she usually had accidents on. In fact, at what she had been when she fell, Ichimin was able to act and move like a sober person. Her thoughts and vision were just fucked up for awhile.
"Kumorigachi."
Ichimin redirected her attention to Unohana, who was waiting very patiently for the return of Ichimin's attention to her. Now that she had it, the older woman smiled kindly.
"Don't worry. It's nothing life threatening and injuries like this usually don't have major consequences or effects on later life. Over time, you'll heal up and if you've developed any kind of new tics or quirks, there's a high probability that they will disappear with age."
Ichimin smiled a bit at this reassurance, brushing her hair back.
"Thank you Captain. But really, I actually feel fine. May I return to work and come back if any sort of complications develop?"
She asked, smiling. Unohana thought on it a long while, before sighing and nodding a bit.
"Yes, I suppose that it couldn't really hurt, could it? I couldn't rein you in anyway without effort that needs to be directed to new arrivals."
Ichimin smiled, jumping out of bed and heading for the door. She slowed to a stop before looking back to Unohana.
"Um…how long have I been out?" She queried, looking a little embarrassed to be asking.
"Three days."
Unohana responded, already walking past her. Ichimin blinked, before groaning aloud.
"Lieutenant Nanao's gonna kill me."
Lieutenant Nanao did indeed nearly kill her.
"Fifth seat Kumorigachi. Your recent times have been spent mainly in Fourth division, and mainly from fault of your own!"
Ichimin was standing before Nanao, head bowed as if in penitence. At the last statement she moved to open her mouth and argue but was cut off.
"That includes the fight with Captain Zaraki!"
Ichimin sighed, closing her mouth and hanging her head a bit all over again. Apparently, Kyoraku was too much of a nice guy to do this and just let Nanao do it for him. Lazy bastard.
"…I'm sorry, Kumorigachi, but I have no option."
The sentence stuck out in Ichimin's mind and she shot her head up, arguing.
"Lieutenant Captain, please, there's no reason to go to those kind of measures-"
She looked genuinely apologetic, terrified of what was to come, but Nanao merely closed her eyes and pressed out the feeling of pity.
"You are being demoted to an unranked member. If you at some point in time can control the rampant drinking problem that is causing every problem you're having, then maybe you can have your position back someday."
The decision struck hard upon Nanao to deliver. Ichimin wasn't a bad shinigami; she just wasn't as adept at handling her alcoholism as some other members of Eighth division were. She was irresponsible at times, and at others she was wonderful. Kumorigachi just couldn't push her disdain for the entire system aside enough to serve with semi-loyalty, and so she drank heavily. That escape mechanism had cost the now-unranked shinigami her title and position.
"…I'm sorry, Kumorigachi." She repeated, opening her eyes to look upon Ichimin. It was an understatement to say that she looked crestfallen; the woman looked far beyond miserable. She looked absolutely humiliated, dejected. At the final apology, Ichimin didn't respond immediately but instead turned around, walking slowly towards the door.
"No fault of yours, Lieutenant."
Nanao noted how very dull and toneless her voice was. She attempted to push it aside and continue on working.
"You will need to move your things to the barracks then."
Ichimin didn't look back as she turned the corner of the door, moving past a sympathetic looking Kyoraku without so much as recognizing his existence.
"Nothing to move out of the room except empty sake bottles and paperwork."
She was gone, and Kyoraku glanced over to Nanao.
"For the best, Nanao. She can't handle this job right now; we need someone more capable of it. Girl's got too many demons to deal with."
Nanao ignored his comment for the most part, shuffling the already-done paperwork to strip Ichimin of her title.
"I know that. Her alcoholism is going to kill her in the end, with all the near-death experiences she's having lately. This last fall makes the second."
She stated shortly. Kyoraku moved to sit at the desk, his hat falling in front of his eyes as he did.
"Third. Those two that nearly got her awhile back were gonna kill her; someone overheard them complaining to each other about Aizen interfering."
Nanao sighed, letting the paperwork alone for a moment.
"…I'm worried. About her mental state right now."
Kyoraku bumped his hat up so that he could look at his Lieutenant.
"Mm? You think she's going to do something…drastic?"
The word choice was vague but the implications were very vivid. They were pondering if she was going to 'fall' off of a building again and land on her neck this time. Or her Zanpakuto.
"I'd like to say no…but we just can't predict what she'll do. The normal Kumorigachi isn't one to go the easy way out, but a drunk Kumorigachi just might."
The two remained silent for a moment, before Nanao looked to her Captain.
"Should we put her in the Fourth division suicide watch?"
She suggested, but Kyoraku waved the suggestion off.
"No. We'll watch her and see if she's acting funny enough, before we go to such extreme measures."
He stood again, messing with his hat.
"Anyway, let's get off the topic."
He turned around, reaching for Nanao.
"My Nanao-chan is worried about someone~"
He said in a 'that's so adorable' way, before catching a black binder in the head.
"That's not cute, Captain. Now, don't you have paperwork to be doing at this moment? If you're so very worried about Ichimin, why don't you do hers?"
Kyoraku flounced towards the door, in an attempt to escape Nanao and the deadly paperwork of doom.
"But there's so much sunshine outside!"
Nanao gave chase, heading after the flowery flamboyant man.
"It's nighttime!!"
She called, annoyed. All the reply she got before losing the Captain and beginning to track him was one small sentence.
"Same difference, my lovely Nanao-chan…"
Aizen was currently on a walk through Rukon, because he would be left alone there from fear. He had found that Ichimin survived the fall and was reasonably pissed off. But for Aizen, that was internal; he remained calm and smiling even though he was already creating another plan to do away with her. Possibly, he could wait until she was put on a mission and then have hollows swarm her…there was always the method of using Kyoka Suigetsu to create the illusion to everyone else that she was dead in some natural or accidental manner, while he killed her himself…
He continued musing, before noticing that Ichimin's reiatsu was nearby. There was that second possibility always for him to make use of. He may even do it now. Aizen might as well, seeing as he was right there and the nearest reiatsu was a reasonable distance away from the two of them.
Tracking her while suppressing his own reiatsu to nearly nothing, he eventually caught up to Ichimin wandering aimlessly through the back streets of Seireitei. He could see that something was terribly wrong with her; she wasn't really going anywhere in particular but just wandering, it seemed. He could tell that something had happened to her, something huge and something that had crushed her will to live. Good. Maybe she'd off herself and save him or Gin the trouble.
'Hopefully, something has happened that will actually bring her to suicide. It would take her out of the picture and leave my plans clear.'
He followed her unnoticed, watched her as she made her way to an old haunt, and one of the only constant homes the despondent shinigami would ever have. A cheap bar.
Ichimin was crushed. Centuries of work, years and sweat and blood given to Soul Society just so that she could hold that position were all erased in the span of two weeks. Now she was back where she started, back as an unranked member of the Eighth division. Nanao had been so fake; 'You may work your way back up'.
"Ha. Like I'll ever work it all back. It's gone, it's all gone and I'm still an alcoholic. Maybe tonight I'll finally have too much on a bender."
She didn't even bother to just think it as she slipped in the door, collapsing into the stool at the bar. All she had to do was let the barkeep see the look in her face and knock on the counter twice, and two jugs of sake were slid to her.
That night is the night where Ichimin Kumorigachi, former Fifth seat of Eighth division under Shunsui Kyoraku, finally hit rock bottom.
She drank and drank, until all of her money was gone and she couldn't feel anything at all. It was beyond happy drunk, beyond angry drunk. The feeling was of heroin; everything was so very numb. Everything physical was numb, her memories were numbed and blank, but unfortunately enough, that aching feeling that she had lost the one thing keeping her alive in Seireitei remained. And now, she could only vaguely remember that it was something real important. What Ichimin did know, though, was that when she got sober, it was going to amplify twenty times over. What a horrible twisting feeling in her chest; her stomach was ice-cold and knotted. And somehow, the former Fifth seat knew it was going to get even worse when she remembered what was gone.
"Hey. Last call, shinigami. Time to get out and sleep in a ditch or something."
The bartender was uncomforting, but Ichimin slurred a response and grabbed the three full bottles paid for and lined up for her on the counter. Walking was an enigma; she staggered like a person so very drunk that they don't have the slightest clue of what they're doing, but they're experienced enough in walking drunk to do it by instinct.
Aizen saw Ichimin stagger out of the bar, only barely catching herself on the doorway. He could see by her eyes and her gait how very intoxicated she was at the moment. But most of all, he noticed how, despite his thoughts that she would leave happy, giddy and trusting, she was even more wretched than before. Three bottles of sake were clutched in her hands haphazardly and the woman was staggering off towards some destination he doubted she even knew. Following, he watched her move out towards the edges of Rukongai.
Ichimin didn't know where she was going. She didn't even remember why she was so heartrendingly sad. It was even more horrible knowing that it would worsen when she could remember, and even now it was horrible. She didn't even know why, and a blank spot sat on the painful memory. She couldn't access whatever had happened, but it was something that she didn't want to ever remember. And something told Ichimin that it'd just be better to stop it all right now.
"…End it."
She murmured, coming to a large open area in the edges of Rukon. An empty field, with one gnarled tree in the center. A yew, she would normally guess. Right now, she could only fathom that it was indeed a tree. Unknowing that Aizen was still following and watching her, she moved to the tree and sat down at it's base, leaning back against it. It was there that she didn't drink, but merely allowed herself to sober up enough to gain the nerve to do it. The memory of what it was that made her want the ending. By dawn, she could remember enough and proved herself right; Ichimin's will grew blazing bright as she recalled what was now gone. It was centuries of suppressing it all, shoving it away from her conscious. Now, it was all crashing down around her. All the years of repressing that self-loathing, the years and time she sacrificed now gone, the knowledge that she'd failed.
"…I can't go back…"
Ichimin muttered, pulling the top out of her first jug. She remembered now, and had decided to become as drunk as humanely possible before acting it out. She had her nerve; now it was time to go out the way she spent nearly her entire afterlife. Fucking wasted.
Aizen was confused, and this particular shinigami absolutely detested not understanding something. She was obviously crushed about something. It wasn't something that was spur-of-the-moment, or she would have done it by now. This was something that had been building up for many, many years and was just now coming to the surface like thick black oil floating upon water. And it was confusing him, because she didn't seem to be the one that would have so much agony. Gin had told him a decent amount, but it was never expected to be this strong that she held the self-betrayal.
'I had seen hints about it, but never thought one that hated her own life so very much could put up such a convincing mask. Impressive.'
Aizen watched her drink herself to the final brink, watched her cry as she did it. It was so melodramatic. He wanted her to go ahead and finish it already.
The third bottle rolled from her palm, coming to a stop in the dried brownish grass. Even now, she couldn't lose the knowledge of what it was that had set it all off, even though she only wanted the nerve to do it with. Now everything was finished, her tears were dried and her nerve was steeled. No one was here to watch her go the coward's route, and she could just snuff herself out quietly. No real loss, seeing as she didn't even know if her few friends would miss her or not. Doubtful, her drunken mind told her. Doubtful, she agreed.
Aizen watched her stand, using the tree for support. Really would need to, seeing as she probably had some level of alcohol poisoning by now. He watched from behind a decrepit building as she undid the tie around her waist, moving to pull a large rock nearby under a sturdy-looking limb. She tied one end around her neck, in an ironically pretty bow. The other was to the limb, not in a bow this time. Checking that the drop would be enough to break her neck and kill her, Ichimin took a very deep breath.
"So long, assholes."
She was in the process of flipping the precariously angled rock out from under her feet when her gaze moved up, almost oddly in the exact precision, to meet Aizen's.
The two shared a thousand-mile stare as the rock finally flipped out from under her feet.
((CLIFFHANGER. Because if I don't stop here, I'll keep going on forever. Thanks to the readers for putting up with two hundred fifty years of pent up angst finally crashing down on Ichimin.))
