Author's Note: It's been quite a while. Apologies. Work has finally freed up enough for me to get back to writing, and here's the first return to Pull Down the World. Hopefully more will be coming on this line soon.

Pull Down the World

Chapter 6 - Part I - Meetings


"I want him taken care of, Takeshi. Urahara knows too much. I won't let him put my position in jeopardy."

"As you say, Sir, but he's a difficult man to reach. And his nephew may cause trouble."

Rangiku lay on her stomach, hidden behind a screen of leaves. The tangled mass of bushes had looked inviting enough in last night's rain, but now her side was sore where a branch had been digging against it for hours. Her bladder felt ready to burst, too, but there was no way to escape from the bushes without making so much noise that the two men would certainly notice her. And that would have been a disaster, according to Oboyi. Rangiku had learned to trust the fox's judgment.

"Kisuke?" The man with his back to Rangiku snorted dismissively. Leaves blocked most of his body from view, but Rangiku could see that his hair was steely gray. The man's voice sounded like gravel pounding on a drumhead. "Kurosaki may claim he's a genius, but I've seen none of it myself. He lacks experience. Kisuke may become a danger in time, but he has far to go before he reaches his potential. Perhaps better if we have to deal with him now, rather than later."

The other man, the tall one, pushed his glasses higher onto the bridge of his nose. "Be that as it may, Sir, that doesn't address the difficulties in reaching Urahara himself. You know I've set men to track down any rumors as to his whereabouts, and they report as little progress now as they have before."

"I have reliable intelligence that Urahara is in this very district as we speak. You know he's always favored the western districts."

"Here, in Hokuan? Would he dare come this close to the Walls?"

"There are certain things he needs, that he can only get from his contacts in the Court. It's much easier if he arranges the meetings closer to the Walls, where the movements of Shinigami don't attract as much attention."

"But how could he...? My men would have heard if he were coming this close!" The one called Takeshi appeared flustered.

"The subordinates you have are weak. Perhaps it's time we gave you more control. Akatake has been looking unwell of late, don't you think?"

Takeshi fell silent, his eyes narrowing. "Would you have me fight him for control of the Third, Sir? That hardly seems-"

"Do not presume, Takeshi. The Captain General has had a... change of heart... about allowing you to test for captaincy."

"And do you think that change of heart would persist, even if Captain Akatake were to be found dead?"

"That would depend very much on who found him, and on how he died, Takeshi. Do not concern yourself with it. Matters will be seen to."

Takeshi bowed his head in acceptance. "It will be as you command, Sir. Is there anything else, or shall I see about setting my men to track down Urahara?"

"One more thing," the other figure hissed. "What of the boy?"

"The situation there is unchanged, Sir. I have reports that he spoke with Shiba, but nothing more. If they extended him an offer, it appears he has rebuffed it."

The older man hummed appreciatively. "Now that is good news. Is it possible you were mistaken about him?"

"No, Sir, I do not believe so." A scowl crossed Takeshi's face for a moment. "I haven't had the opportunity to observe him closely, but... His zanpakutou shares the same markings as Itsuka's, of that much I am certain. How a... a CHILD could have beaten one of my best men, I don't know. But he has the sword."

"Itsuka was a loss." A hint of regret touched that gravelly tone. "He might have made a fine Lieutenant for you, Takeshi. He was a child of Rukongai himself. If the boy did indeed kill him, I suppose it's fitting that he died at the hands of one of his own. I'll speak with Sousuke. Perhaps he can bring the boy around to us."

"I don't trust that man, Sir. Captain Aizen has never seemed fully in line with our goals." A note of irritated pleading entered Takeshi's voice.

"Sousuke is my creature, Takeshi, just as you are. I will not tell you again. This meeting is at an end. You have tasks to be about."

Takeshi dropped to one knee, leaving Rangiku's field of view. "I serve and obey, Sir."

The figure of the older man seemed to blur, and then vanish. Rangiku pushed herself up on her elbows, careful not to rustle the leaves around her. The man called Takeshi seemed to be gone as well. Still, she counted a full one hundred, listening for any sound. It was agony, waiting so long, but she made herself wait until she was sure the two had left. Then, finally, Rangiku wriggled out of the cover of the bushes.

A few feet away, she saw a small white shape slip out of the bushes as well. It was perfectly silent, as always. Running to her, it began to play happily at her feet.

"Okay. Okay, Oboyi! Give me a minute, and we can leave. Who were those men, anyway?" Not that the fox ever answered, but Rangiku often had the nagging feeling that it could, if only she knew how to listen properly.

Rangiku turned her back on the fox and walked behind a tree, squatting to relieve herself. The fox gave a shrill yip, but waited for her to return.

"You going to tell me about those men, then? No? Cat got your tongue, kid?" Oboyi gave Rangiku an unamused look. "Well, whatever. You seem to know where we're going. Lead on, my little friend." As the fox bounded away, Rangiku followed with quick steps.

That had been the way of things for as long as she could remember, now. Each morning, waking up and following wherever Oboyi went. She had only expected the little white fox to take her as far as the borders of Rukongai, but it had stuck with her even after. They had returned to the home she had shared with Gin first, and despite all her promises to herself, she was unable to keep back the tears. She had spent one last night in the little shack, curled up and crying, with Oboyi looking on in silence. Then she had gathered what little remained to her - dresses, her sewing kit, and a small wooden cat Gin had carved for her once - and left.

That was the last night Rangiku had spent under a roof. Ever since, Oboyi had led her through the wilderness within Rukongai, through the open spaces that ran between the districts. They had slept in the open, under the stars. They had slept in caves, under bushes like last night, anywhere they could find. Rangiku had hated it at first. Not that she was used to the most comfortable bedding, but there was a substantial difference between sleeping in a rough wooden shack, and sleeping in a cave that might have played home to a den of bears. But gradually, week by week, month by month, Rangiku had come to enjoy it.

With Oboyi by her side, the longing she had felt, the longing that had driven her out past the borders of Rukongai had never returned. Neither had the hunger that she remembered so acutely from her time with Gin. Her memory... That persisted, though. Even knowing that Gin was dead, not a day passed without her remembering him. Remembering his kindness. Remembering the way he smiled for her. Remembering his eyes, those deep crimson eyes she had seen only once, but that haunted her memory like lost souls.

Oboyi barked, bringing Rangiku's attention back to the present. They were standing on a hilltop overlooking a sprawl of low wooden buildings. Rangiku blinked in surprise. In all the time they'd been together, Oboyi had rarely brought her within sight of one of Rukongai's ramshackle districts, and never led her to one like this. The houses below were small, but well-built. Much better than the buildings Rangiku remembered from Ishibana, the 79th district of West Rukongai near where she had lived with Gin. Of course, from what the two men had been saying, she and Oboyi must be near the walls of Seireitei now. Hokuan, somewhere in West Rukongai, they had said. The name held no more meaning for Rangiku than any other, though.

Rangiku was not sure she and Oboyi had ever come this close to Seireitei. The few times she had seen the district villages in their travels, those villages had always looked more like Ishibana than this. Oboyi seemed to choose a new direction each day, and Rangiku had given up asking the little fox to take her in any specific direction. Probably, it was still following some command from the old man in the wilderness, to keep her safe, or to guide her somewhere. Though it hardly seemed likely Oboyi was taking her to a specific place. Rangiku was sure that in all the time they had traveled together, she could easily have traversed the whole of Rukongai three or four times.

And now, straight to one of the villages. Oboyi barked again and loped down the hill, leaving Rangiku no choice but to follow. Ahead, she could see what seemed like a cloud of dust blanketing the whole village, kicked up by the crowds of people that thronged the streets. There was noise, too; the ever-present chatter of people who lived together talking, laughing, shouting. It felt strange, seeing this press of people all together when she and Oboyi had avoided any contact with them for so long. Rangiku felt sure all the men and women in the village would turn as one and stare at her, the outsider, approaching their space. Her stomach knotted anxiously, but she forced herself to put one foot in front of the next, following Oboyi.

And then they were at the edge of the buildings, pressing into the crowd themselves. No one looked around to see Rangiku. Her dress, which she scarcely even thought of anymore, was tattered from travel and patched by her own hands. Perhaps two or three years of travel - the seasons all seemed to blur together in Rangiku's mind now. It was hardly more than rags when set against the well-cut clothes worn by these villagers. Yet no one seemed to pay her any more mind than anyone else on the street. How could they all be so... so casual?

A man in a thick leather vest, carrying a long-handled hammer propped against his shoulder, came out of a side alley and bumped into Rangiku, knocking her to the ground. The man stopped, staring down at her with hard eyes and taking in her clothes. "Hey, girl, watch where you're going. We ain't got much use for your kind up here, so stay outta the way if you don't wanna get kicked back down."

Rangiku opened her mouth to apologize, but couldn't seem to find the words. Her throat constricted, and she felt fear welling up in her stomach. She didn't belong here. These people would turn on her. She couldn't be here. The apology she couldn't speak turned into a feral snarl, and she bounded to her feet, sprinting past the man and down the street. She had to get away. There were so many people, everywhere. There had to be some place without people.

Curses followed after her as she snaked through the mass of bodies. Her legs were longer now, good for running - she had grown in the time she had been with Oboyi - but she was still shorter than most of the men and women on the street. She found herself shouldering into people as often as not, unable to see them through the crowds until the last second. The throng never seemed to thin. She had lost Oboyi now, but all Rangiku could think of was finding a way out. She had to get out. She had to-

An arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a doorway lining a heavily-shadowed alley. She squirmed and the arm tightened, holding her in place. Panic invaded Rangiku's mind and her hands reached up to claw at the form in front of her, someone, barely taller than she was herself. She landed a blow, then another, and heard a low hollering from the figure. Then something slipped over her mouth, and darkness enveloped her.

---------------------------

When she woke, Rangiku found herself lying on a table in a darkened room. There was a pillow under her head. It was... comfortable, in a way she scarcely remembered. The memory of her flight through the village came back, and she hissed angrily, trying to sit up. Her body didn't move, though she felt a tightness across her chest, stomach, and hips that she hadn't noticed before.

"Ahh, so you're awake!" a voice called cheerfully. "You surprised me back in the alley, but I couldn't let you just run through Hokuan like that. I have a hard enough time avoiding attention without someone like you threatening to bring it crashing down on me."

A plaintive whine came from nearby the voice, and Rangiku struggled against the bonds instinctively. She turned her head, and in the darkness she could just make out the silhouette of a figure sitting in a chair near the corner of the room.

"Oh, yes. Your friend came by not long after. He put up such a fuss outside my door, I had no choice but to let him in. Then, he came straight to you. He's an interesting one, he is. Does he have a name?"

"Let. Me. Go," Rangiku grated through clenched teeth.

The voice, a man she though, tasked in amusement. "Not just yet, my girl. Not that I mean to keep you like that, no. But last time you near enough gave me a new scar on my face, and I'd just as rather you didn't try again."

"You grabbed me, you... you..." Rangiku bit her tongue as she realized she didn't really know any insulting names she could call the man. "What was I supposed to do!?"

"Hmmmm. I suppose you have a point, at that. But still. You don't sound like you're quite ready to be civil yet, anyway. Now, how about you tell me what you're doing in Hokuan. Or what you're doing running around outside my workshop. Or what you're doing with this remarkable little fox." Oboyi yipped, happy at being included in the conversation again.

Rangiku knew better than to tell the man the truth, but she'd never considered a story to explain her wandering either. She had had so little contact with other people in so long, it had never occurred to her. She knew she couldn't pass herself off as a resident of this district, though. Her clothes would give her away there, if nothing else. She decided to try something close to the truth, just not too close.

"My family died. We lived in the outer districts. My father had a... a clothing shop, and I helped my mother make dresses. Anyway, they died, and... and I left. And I took Oboyi with me."

The man didn't respond. Silence stretched on for a minute. Two. Then, he spoke again, his voice cold. "Girl, that is the most worthless story I've ever heard. I have half a mind to believe it's true, some of it anyway. Only someone who lacked all wits would come up with a lie that bad." Rangiku fumed quietly. "But you still didn't tell me why you're here. Or why you have this little fox friend. Oboyi? That's a name I haven't heard in a while."

"I don't have to tell you anything! Let me go!"

A sigh came from the corner where the man was sitting. "Fine. Maybe this would go easier if I explained why I brought you here." He sounded far too reasonable for a man who had her bound to a table somewhere in a back alley.

"I don't care what you have to say! Just untie me and le-"

"You, my girl, have the most amazing reiatsu," he said, riding right over her protestations. "I've never seen anything like it outside Seireitei. Not often there, though it's been a while since I was allowed to visit. Now me, I like my privacy. I have research to do, and I'd prefer to do it in peace. But I can hardly do that when you're running all over Hokuan, threatening to bring Shinigami down on me like a bloody avalanche. I'm just lucky no one else was close enough to notice you. I was shocked to feel you at all - you should have drawn them like flies to honey long before now, if you've been in the upper districts. But from your clothes, I'd guess you haven't been here long at that, and from this... Oboyi of yours, I think I understand the rest as well."

The torrent of explanation seemed to pause for a moment. Rangiku had followed very little of it. "Reiatsu?"

"...you really are witless, aren't you girl? You don't even know." It wasn't a question.

"Know what? All I know is, you grabbed me off the street, knocked me out, tied me up, and now you want to ask me questions!"

"I see explaining this is going to take some time," the man sighed, and Rangiku could see the shadow in the corner stand and walk to the bed. "If you promise to behave, I'll let you up and we can discuss this over a nice pot of tea."

Rangiku opened her mouth to tell him what he could do with his tea, but fell silent when she heard a soft mumbling come from the figure. Suddenly, a red light sprang into being in his cupped hand, like a sphere of roiling fire. It cast flickering shadows across his face, a face that looked much older than she would have thought from the man's voice. Still, there was a pleasant twinkle in his eyes. Her own eyes strayed back to the ball of flame. How had he done that? "All right, I promise." Rangiku felt surprised to hear herself saying those words.

The man smiled and reached down with his other hand to unbuckle the leather bindings holding her to the table. "Good, I'm glad to hear that. Well then, girl, do you have a name I can call you?"

"Rangiku," she said. "Matsumoto Rangiku". She rubbed her arms where the bindings had bit into them. She couldn't see in this light, but she was sure they must be red from the pressure.

"Then it's my pleasure to meet you, Matsumoto Rangiku," he said, offering her hand and helping her off the table. My name is Urahara Satoru."