Exciting Proposal
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.
A/N: Having not the use of Microsoft Word's spellcheck for this chapter I was forced to use a dictionary to look up the spelling of deodorant. I was so convinced there was a second e in there...shit, but how technology spoils us. -.-
Btw does anyone even remember Sasakibe Chojiro? I threw his name in here but when talking to my friend about him, the moron didn't recognize...anyway. He's Genryuusai's lieutenant. Okay? Okay.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Iba Tetsuzaemon loved the 11th Division.
He loved the dojo that smelt forever of sweat and cheap deodorant, loved the evening free-for-all brawls held in the courtyard. He loved the mid-morning booze fests and the cocky attitude that was an occupational hazard of being part of Gotei 13's strongest division. Hell, he loved it all. It was epic. It was delightfully over the top. And he wanted to represent his division as the strongest, proudest fukataichou.
(Tetsuzaemon was well aware of his limits. To aim for the level of captain was foolhardy. He'd only embarrass himself.)
When Zaraki Kenpachi became captain and brought his custom-made pocket lieutenant with him, Tetsuzaemon was left in the lurch. And I mean the lurch. Becoming a lieutenant was his long-term dream, goal, aspiration...and the one thing the 11th Division couldn't give him. The 11th Division was his sanctuary, home, womb...and the only place where dreams couldn't be turned into reality.
Home vs. dreams, the ultimate showdown.
"Maybe I should look at postings in other divisions."
Madarame Ikkaku held a canteen of beer in his hand, slumped offhandedly against the dojo wall. He turned his head and frowned slightly at the brunet.
"Feeble joke, Iba-san."
Tetsuzaemon's face was impassive as he beat the hilt of his sword against the palm of his hand. "It's no joke, Madarame."
"Why would you want to leave our division?"
A self-effacing grunt issued from Tetsuzaemon's lips. "No scope for growth."
"No chance at becoming vice-captain, you mean." Ikkaku seemed unimpressed. "Iba-san, are you really the sort of man who can't handle even this sort of blow?"
The hairer shinigami stood. "Men who ask questions they already know the answers to," he said waspishly, "I hate them."
Ikkaku smirked. "As much as you hate men who evade questions they don't want to answer?"
Tetsuzaemon retorted with his zanpakutou; Ikkaku scrambled to his feet. Break time was over.
000
In Kyoraku Shunsui's humble opinion, Commander-General Yamamoto Genryuusai was a cruel man.
Sometimes.
If he and Ukitake Jyuushiro were brothers, Komamura Sajin who also loved Genryuusai as a father was a type of distant cousin. As he watched this cousin don the captain's haori for the first time, Shunsui had to admit. It had been nothing short of animal cruelty to offer him this exalted position.
Tell me, would you like to work with a man who spends his days hiding his face behind a mask that covers his whole head? I doubt it, I sincerely do. Shunsui did as well.
And it wasn't like a Kurotsuchi Mayuri case of bad sense...even with his toilet seat around his neck and the ludicrous face-paint you could see Mayuri's eyes. You could easily tell that here was a man who would cheerfully leave his subordinates to die for the scientific hell of it and act accordingly to avoid such a fate. Sajin with his bucket (a brown paper bag's sophisticated avatar) was the sinister unknown. Trusting someone whose eyes you couldn't see required leaps of faith that Sajin did not inspire.
How would he feel to have scrambled his way out of obscurity up here to the apex of influence, only to face the same humiliation of exclusion? How would he feel if (when) his proposal was turned down? Shunsui fretted. Sajin was so sensitive. With Kaname as a captain too, who was left to take on the challenge of being this man's vice?
"How do I look, Kyoraku?"
Shunsui thought. He looked like an inefficient ninja off to abduct a child. Telling him that would probably make him cry, so Shunsui chose to carefully avoid answering.
"I can't actually see you, Komamura," he teased, "You're all covered up."
If he had hoped the hint would get Sajin to undress some, he was in for a let-down. The foxy (uh.) captain hadn't taken off his mask for Genryuusai himself. Shunsui never stood a chance.
"That's the point," Sajiin said, and exited his chambers with a deep sigh.
000
Like I said, who can trust a man whose eyes can't be seen? Someone like Kaname, who couldn't see at all. Someone like Genryuusai, who saw without ever opening his eyes. Someone like Jyuushiro, who saw trustworthiness in everyone, or Shunsui, who looked beyond what he saw.
Finally, someone like Tetsuzaemon, who hid his eyes as well.
Yumichika nagged.
"Iba-san, is what Ikkaku told me true? You're thinking of quitting the 11th? Che, how unprepossessing!"
He and Ikkaku walked behind the man with the shady shades, on a routine patrol through a few of the rowdier Rukongai districts. Tetsuzaemon rattled his sword in its scabbard menacingly at a clot of filthy thugs, who dissolved with ugly glares at the trio of shinigami encroaching upon their territory.
"You can take that uppity silence as a resounding 'yes', Yumi," Ikkaku drawled, "Iba-san wants to ditch us."
"Iba-san!" Yumichika exclaimed loudly. Several passersby looked nervously over their shoulders. "Say something. Your silence is hideous."
The sun, shining white-hot, slipped out from behind some clouds. Yumichika, fearing for his flawless complexion, ducked into Tetsuzaemon's shadow. Ikkaku smeared some sunscreen on his glittering pate and needled his colleague some more.
"I hope you do leave. Clear my path to third seat, mm."
Slouching as he walked, Yumichka said, "Don't be so unkind, Ikkaku. We know you'll miss sparring with him if he goes."
"When he goes."
"Iba-san, you haven't decided to go? You're only considering it, aren't you?" demanded Yumichika. Tetsuzaemon was stoically, unnaturally taciturn. Ikkaku scoffed.
"If you're thinking of talking him out of it, forget it." There was wounded pride in his words. "Iba-san made up his mind without telling any of us. I just wanna be there when he hands his transfer documents to Kusajishi-fukataichou. Can you imagine what she'll do?"
Tetsuzaemon tried. A pink haired terror loomed in his mind's eye, spitting and kicking and wailing for him to stay until Zaraki Kenpachi took hold of his neck and snapped it for distressing the girl who was at times the daughter he never had and at times the best friend he could never make. He shuddered.
Yumichika persisted.
"Iba-san you can't be serious!"
At this point Tetsuzaemon broke and snapped, "I can and I am. I'm looking to become a vice-captain in whatever division will have me."
Yumichika fell into a hideous, reproachful silence of his own and Ikkaku's face tightened drastically.
"Right," he said, "Let's split up and finish this patrol as fast as we can."
The gossip mills began to hum with life.
000
The tale of Iba Tetsuzaemon wishing to leave Kenpachi's ranks was considerably distorted by the time it reached Kyoraku Shunsui's ears, but it was still intelligible.
He sat with his youthful vice-captain Ise Nanao and pondered.
Sajin, due to what Shunsui shrewdly suspected was a fear of rejection, had still not asked anyone to be his lieutenant. The strain of managing an entire division by his lonesome wasn't showing yet, but what would Shunsui know of the expression behind that mask? Yamamoto-soutaichou had appointed him and Jyuushiro as the unofficial overseers of Sajin's fresh career, and both of them knew that their...cousin...needed help. Quickly.
Many saw Tetsuzaemon as ruthlessly ambitious for jettisoning his division when it couldn't satisfy his wants, but Shunsui with his special eyes thought him brave. They were fiercely loyal in the 11th, and brutal to those they saw as turncoats.
"Nanao-chan," he asked, "Would it be ethical of me to throw these two together?"
The pretty (intelligent, efficient, dependable, prodigious) girl looked at him over her glasses. "Some would say you were meddling, yes," Nanao said slowly, "It's true that it might be better for Komamura-taichou to do it of his own will. I believe, however, that you are not so much forcing a mismatch as you are nudging each towards his obvious destination. You should get Ukitake-taichou's opinion on the matter."
Since no matter what she said he'd end up doing as he liked, she'd taken to telling him what she thought he wanted to do. She was usually bang on.
Shunsui smiled competently at her.
"What a clever woman you are, Nanao-chan."
000
Jyuushiro's tea parties were calm, loving meditations on nature. He usually arranged them in one of 13th Division's multiple Zen gardens, and occasionally he and Sasakibe Chojiro persuaded the Commander-General to let them utilize the 1st Division's grounds. Invitations were sent out to all seated shinigami in Seireitei, but no one without direct relations to Jyuushiro were presumptuous enough to attend often. Unohana Retsu was one of the few permanent guests; predictably her lieutenant, Kotetsu Isane, came frequently. Others like Zaraki Kenpachi and Soifon skipped regularly and unapologetically. Shunsui was obligated to attend, while Genryuusai dropped in briefly from time to time. The 8th Division captain tonight offered to escort Sajin, for whom this was the first time.
"Becoming a captain without ever having held a seat, I must look quite the fool, eh Kyoraku?"
"Good grief, unwind. There won't be a soul at that party thinking lowly of you." Shunsui tugged his kimono this way and that, preening vainly in front of the full length mirror Komamura rarely used. "Everyone knows old man Yama holds you in high regard."
"Yes," Sajin said with a dollop of melancholy. It struck Shunsui that no matter how grateful, a man would like to be accepted for who he is, not who his patron is. "All the same, I wish Tousen were coming."
Kaname had pled out of the evening's events, citing unavoidable paperwork. Shunsui wondered about that. How hard was it to delegate to the lieutenant for a night, so as to ease Sajin's nerves and be at his side?
"On the bright side," the rookie captain perked up slightly, "I hear Ichimaru's not coming either. I never liked that one, and neither does Tousen."
"Mm," sighed Shunsui, "It'll be quiet this time. Sousuke's skipping too."
(Yes, because they were all three of them attending a rather special party in Heuco Mundo. Barragan was to have some entertainment tonight.)
The thought of a short guest list sustained Sajin all the way to the venue. The coy winter evening lay white and waiting over Jyuushiro's favorite garden, covering the evergreen shrubs with snowy quilts. A frozen brook was traversed by several charming bridges, and a half dozen people lounged around a low brazier under a cozy pavillion. It was hung with gauzy curtains. Two unseated shinigami scurried forth to take Shunsui and Sajin's umbrellas; Jyuushiro rose gracefully to greet them.
"Kyoraku, Komamura!" he beamed, "We've been waiting breathlessly."
It was only the polite thing to say to latecomers. Shunsui fluttered his fan to hide the flush that didn't appear on his cheeks while Sajin inclined his head in apologetic thanks.
Soifon said, "Hah!" and rudely downed her tea without waiting for them to sit. Her new vice-captain sighed exasperatedly (exaggeratedly) as he refilled her cup.
Jyuushiro and Shunsui exchanged secretive glances. The guest list was one slightly manipulated by them until they had the people most likely to work as catalysts to bring Tetsuzaemon and Sajin together. Nanao had called in a favor from fellow Shinigami Women's Association member Matsumoto Rangiku, who was good with men. While Nanao had failed to show, saying she couldn't face the cold tonight, Rangiku had invited her sometimes drinking partner Iba Tetsuzaemon along. With great difficulty Jyuushiro had persuaded the newly bonded Soifon and Omaeda Marechiyo to show themselves. Unohana Retsu was here to offset everyone else, a reliable head in time of crisis that they hadn't been able to rid themselves of.
"Captain," Marechiyo said, "Please wait for Komamura-taichou and Kyoraku-taichou to seat themselves."
Soifon said "Hah!" again and reached for her cup; Marechiyo speedily moved it away from her. Looking only half annoyed with twitching lips, she contented herself with shooting a question at Rangiku's date.
"You're looking to leave your division, aren't you?"
Rangiku halted her conversation with Tetsuzaemon so he could proffer a wary reply: "Yes, ma'am."
"Lovely," snorted the unlovely brunette, "And I thought loyalty was your people's redeeming trait."
Tetsuzaemon mouth tightened as if she'd slapped him. Soifon turned her malicious eyes on the rest of the company. No one was thick enough to meet her basilisk stare; Retsu parted the curtains of the pavillion with one hand to look away as she sipped from her porcelain cup. Sajin, as Shunsui hoped he would, spoke out of sheer irritation at the tiny female's gigantic attitude.
"Before pointing fingers, you should make sure your hands are clean. At least the 11th Division, as far back as I can remember, has never had a captain abandon it."
A coil of emotion drew Soifon's scorpion features closer together. Marechiyo spoke up for his new boss. "Komamura-taichou, with all due respect...you're being insensitive. Soifon-taichou is your senior, and you should watch what you say to her. In any case, Iba-san can defend himself, if he chooses to."
Oh, now it was two against one and Sajin had never learnt how to play this way. An upwards tilt to his bucket head signified him raising his face to seek assistance, but no one seemed to comprehend the gesture but Tetsuzaemon.
"Omaeda-san," he said, "Your devotion to Soifon-taichou is admirable...more so, apparently, than mine to my division. But think: I, unlike you, know my position and accept criticism from those above my station."
Sajin silently thanked his rescuer with a clenching of the fist, thinking that unlike the rest of his boorish compatriots, this 11th Divisioner seemed to realize fights would be won by words as well as swords.
Soifon leapt back into the fray. "So," she huffed, "You're saying he should sit back and let me be put down," she shot Sajin a hot, malevolent glare, "By a beast?"
Tetsuzaemon didn't get it, but Jyuushiro and Shunsui stirred uneasily. He gathered that the insult dug deep by observing Sajin's sudden and complete stillness. None of the assembled apart from the soutaichou's three foster sons knew what lay under the big man's mask and those three forgave Soifon's inadvertant infringement of the taboo. Tetsuzaemon, however, sympathized with the captain who had a mute face.
"Ma'am," he began to say unkindly, intending to step over all boundaries of politesse to deliver a snappy comeback that would blow her back to hell. Retsu with her placatory voice destroyed his plan.
"That's enough, I think."
They all turned to her, this soft eyed captain with her Russian doll layers of lovingly dressed fright. Sajin's shoulders went mercifully slack as attention drifted away from him. Tetsuzaemon saw.
"Soifon-san, I don't know what Ukitake-kun was thinking to ask you here. You've obviously had a rough week, what with training your new vice and such...you shouldn't be forced to endure avoidable late nights."
The not-statuesque brunette accepted her dismissal with a grateful grunt. As she stood, Marechiyo made to stand up with. Soifon gave him such an eloquent, warning look that he sank back down and struck up talks with Rangiku, who thus far had appeared modestly embarrassed by the proceedings. Sajin, with a twinge, felt envious of their united front.
Retsu wasn't done.
"Well! Disagreements warm the air considerably, don't they? I feel like taking a walk. Komamura-san, will you accompany me?"
Sajin spoke a gracious yes, and Retsu said, "Iba-san, would you like to come as well?"
The square-jawed hunk didn't think Rangiku would mind, she was such a great girl and laughing so gleefully at something Marechiyo was saying. He sought Jyuushiro's eye, but he and Shunsui deliberately discussed in low, private tones a matter the 11th Division officer was not involved in. He raised his eyes to Retsu's warm invitation and more importantly, Sajin's dauntless mask. It was impossible to be sure and he thought himself arrogant for thinking it, but Tetsuzaemon got the impression that the captain was looking specifically, intently, at him. Wanting him to accept.
"I'd like that, ma'am." And nervously touching his sunglasses (pretentious at night, but indispensable nonetheless), Kenpachi's man stepped into Sajin's shadow.
On Retsu's whim they crossed the bridges over the brook, zig-zagging their way through the cold, pleasant garden. The woman hummed under her breath and distanced herself from them. Falling a few steps behind, Tetsuzaemon and Sajin watched her back.
"She's something, isn't she?" the former asked appreciatively. Sajin whose thoughts had lingered on disputatious Soifon was taken aback until he added, "Unohana-taichou."
"Oh," Sajin had never owned a conventional sense of esthetics, "Yes. Beautiful."
Tetsuzaemon looked up at him, picking out the apathetic tone if not the neutral expression. "That's not what I meant, sir. There's something about her...the way Soifon-taichou obeyed her so calmly! I admire that."
Thoughtlessly, carelessly, Sajin said, "I didn't think a member of the 11th Division could admire anything but brute strength."
Tetsuzaemon replied cuttingly. "Are you implying, captain, that I ought to be admiring you?"
Retsu moved on as the two men came to a total halt of shame and regret. Sajin was still once again and Tetsuzaemon faced him to bow.
"My apologies. Captain, it's just that...I've come to realize." Bitterness burnt his grinding tones to a crisp. "No one in my division will ever forgive me my decision." He straightened, and despite not seeing his face he looked Sajin in the eyes. The slits in his mask felt like gaping windows to the furry captain as the brunet continued. "Becoming a lieutenant is my dream and if I wanted to achieve that in the 11th Division I would at some point end up waiting for Kusajishi-fukataichou to die. I do not want to be that kind of man, captain."
Sajin twitched, drawn in.
"I would much rather have everyone else hate me than hate myself."
Drawn to this man, gravitating towards his intensity and his words...Sajin remembered feeling this way before: once with Yamamoto Genryuusai and twice with Tousen Kaname. Iba Tetsuzaemon appeared to be number three. Sajin felt the grip of possibility swaying on his shoulder like a fat pigeon. And still Tetsuzaemon talked.
"I suppose I will have to accept my fate. There is no one to forgive me. Support me. I am alone."
Unohana Retsu stopped just around the bend in the brook to observe an iced tree. Sajin could see scraps of her kimono through the unrobed branches. He could see something else, too. He saw himself walking through the offices of Division Seven with Tetsuzaemon right behind him.
"You are not alone, Iba."
The night shifted smoothly at his words, a breeze spinning eddies in the snow.
"Iba, we talked against Soifon and her lieutenant together. Iba, I will support you. If you are my vice-captain, I will support you for the rest of our lives."
There had been marriage proposals less romantic than this, and they both knew it. Iba Tetsuzaemon laughed, and Sajin's heart lurched. He needn't have worried, though.
"Komamura-taichou, I accept your generous offer. And...I know you have heard rumors that it doesn't matter to me who my captain is, as long as I am second to that person only. I admit, I would have agreed to be the vice of any division."
But...?
"I am very glad it's you who asked me, though." Tetsuzaemon's voice carried not a hint of insincerity. "You are a man I can respect."
"Even if you can't see what you're respecting?"
"There is nothing your face says, sir," Tetsuzaemon dismissed, "That your body and voice do not repeat."
"I see."
"Yes."
They grinned at each other. Bucket to shades.
Unohana Retsu began to walk back towards the pavillion by herself.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x
I'm going to celebrate this unusually long chapter with an Orihime-worthy mix of bananas and salt biscuits. Mm.