Chapter 11: The S.C.C.

"Rika-chan." Joshiro greeted warmly, a smile across his pale face. "I thought you'd probably pop by today."

Arikka paused. Her eyes swept the room. There were two teacups waiting expectantly upon the small table, both filled to the brim with steaming liquid. One was clearly for the thirteenth division captain. The other, well, the other could only be for her.

Arikka sighed. Her whole body slumped. "You've heard, haven't you?"

Joshiro lifted the first cup to his lips and took a long sip. It was only when he gently placed the china back onto the table top that he answered her question.

"Yes."

Arikka actually fell into the room, her legs sprawled across the floor as she leant her torso against the rim of the table.

"What should I do?" She moaned pathetically.

"A cup of tea perhaps?"

Arikka let her head knock down onto the wood.

"Can't drink." She made out. "Too embarrassed."

Joshiro laughed. Arikka thought that was a bit cruel. "It really isn't as bad as you're making it out to be."

Arikka couldn't bring herself to raise her head. It was all too preposterous. "Yes it is."

"How so?"

"They're so," she started, taking a long breath to get her mind in place, "I mean, the things they're saying…"

Arikka heard the tap of the tea cup against the table again. "It's harmless gossip."

"How is the rumour that me and Hitsugaya-taicho enjoy eating Spam off of each other's bodies while watching Extreme Makeover with a ferret harmless?"

"Hmm," Joshiro said. Arikka at last brought herself to lift her stare. He seemed to be thinking about something, his gaze somewhere over her shoulder. "I hadn't heard that one."

Arikka groaned. "Trust me, there are worse."

Joshiro's tinkling chuckles sounded around the room. Arikka thought he was taking this far too well. "Seireitei has always had a penchant for remarkable gossip, however unlikely it may be."

"But it's not true! How could-"

"I know." Joshiro gave her a sympathetic look. "And I think that many others do as well, but once these things start they have a way of spreading until people get bored. I'm afraid there's really very little you can do."

Arikka narrowed her eyes. "That doesn't help."

"Maybe not, but I think you should consider this something of a privilege." He continued before Arikka had a chance to complain. "It's not everybody who can capture the imaginations of so many in such a short time. Even your mother struggled to create stories that were so bizarre; the wildest anyone ever said about her was that she was a transvestite."

Arikka hit her head against the table once more, feeling utterly defeated. "She was lucky."

"Now, Tousen on the other hand – there was some fantastic story circulating before he betrayed us about him and a mop."

Arikka shut her eyes firmly. She had never met any of the now renowned Shinigami traitors, being born decades later, and she didn't see what this had to do with anything. Apart, of course, for letting her know just how long these rumours could stick around for. "That's even less helpful."

It was a moment before Joshiro spoke again, but when he did Arikka could hardly believe her ears.

"I think you and Shiro-chan would make a lovely couple."

Arikka jolted upright, her eyes as wide as dinner plates, her previous troubles forgotten. "What?"

Joshiro calmly drank his tea. "Yes, lovely. It would be wonderful if you were dating."

Arikka didn't blink. "Again… what?"

Joshiro's eyes suddenly lit up. His smile broadened and he leant forward excitedly. "Oh, I know! I just have to take you to meet some friends of mine!"

Arikka grew unexpectedly nervous. "Who?"

Ise Nanao was angry.

She often was, but this time he had taken it too far.

This time, he had disappeared for three entire days.

When she found him, Shunsui was in for a world of trouble.

It wasn't that she was worried about him or anything – no, Nanao would never be worried about that foolish man – but things were going balls up in the division. She found it hard to admit that maybe the drinking party needed a buffoon to supervise them, but apparently without their captain around the lower seats would cause nothing but chaos at what was supposedly a weekly squadron event. She had never agreed to anything of the sort.

So here she was, in the place she had never in her wildest dreams thought her captain would voluntarily stay, looking for Kyoraku Shunsui.

It was therefore surprising when she found him.

"And that was the first time I saw Nanao's boobies!"

"You were supposed to be telling me when you were planning to leave."

"Was I?"

"Yes."

"Meh, close enough."

"Get out."

"But Mayuri-san…"

"What in God's name are you doing here?"

Shunsui looked up, eyebrows raised. He wasn't expecting anyone to find him here. It wouldn't even be the last place people would look, because he was certain no one would ever look for him here. It was the perfect hiding place!

And Nanao had ruined it.

"Nanao-chan!" he exclaimed, trying not to show how anxious he was. He stood from the couch and wandered over to the small lieutenant, draping an arm around her shoulders. "Uh, how long have you been standing here?"

"Long enough." She answered calmly.

Shunsui relaxed. If that was really true, she would not have been calm in the slightest. He had once again gotten away with it!

The large hardback book landed squarely on his face.

"Don't talk about my breasts!" Nanao screamed as she continued to pummel him into the ground.

Shunsui started bawling. "Why not? They're very nice breasts! Ow! Why do women keep on hitting me? It must be my manly charm! Ow! I said 'ow'! Isn't that enough for you? Ow!"

After a good minute of teaching Shunsui not to shout out details of their personal life in public, or as near to the public as Mayuri could get, Nanao decided to let him be. She stood up straight and pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"Right, Kurotsuchi-taicho, I am sorry for the disturbance, but we must be on our way."

"Finally." Mayuri muttered, not turning away from the large screen displaying various bars and colours in front of him.

Shunsui tried to slither back towards the scientist. Nanao held him in place with the base of her heel. "We're going now."

"Good." was Mayuri's half-interested reply.

"But Nanao-chan…"

"Shut up and move."

Where the hell were they?

Arikka, of course, knew painfully well where she was geographically. It was obvious by the path they had taken to get here that they were in one of the unused outbuildings of the Kuchiki manor, but that really didn't explain what was going on.

Just who were all these people?

And what – she reminded herself would be another good question – were they doing in her house?

"Ukitake-taicho, you made it after all!"

"Ah, Rangiku," the white-haired captain said happily, turning to the pair of breasts approaching, "lovely to see you as always."

"Yes, yes, it always is!" Matsumoto agreed. She noticed the other Shinigami with a jolt. "Rika-chan? Oh my God, you've finally decided to join us!"

She squealed and before Arikka could respond she was being crushed in a giant hug that may have broken lesser girl's ribs.

"Uh," Arikka blinked after being released. She looked around what she had previously thought was just a store room, becoming more confused with every second. There seemed to be at least thirty five people here, most of which, she noticed, were young and female. Small tables were dotted around, each with several of the guests drinking tea and chatting away perched besides them. There didn't seem to be any further clues as to why they were here. "Yeah, what exactly is going on?"

Matsumoto gasped. "You mean you don't know?"

"No."

Was it just her, or did Matsumoto look rather put out by this news? Arikka certainly caught the glimpse of disappointment in her eyes.

"So you haven't changed your mind?" she said down-heartedly.

"About what?" was all Arikka could think of asking.

Matsumoto seemed to perk right up again.

"Never mind, never mind!" she cried enthusiastically. She raised an arm in the air and gestured to the rest of the room in a grand motion. "Well, then, may I introduce to you, my dear Rika-chan, the most important of all Seireitei's organisations! This… is The Official Hitsugaya Toshiro Appreciation Society and Fan Club!"

The entire room burst into a great wave of noise.

"Shiro-chan!" They all called simultaneously, followed by three sharp claps.

Arikka had the strangest feeling that she had just stumbled across some kind of cult.

"The what?" she gasped out, not quite following what her brain was telling her was going on.

"Or…" Matsumoto began just as proudly, Arikka's expression not registering in her mind, "… as we are sometimes known, The Shiro-Chan Corps!"

"Shiro-chan!"

Clap. Clap. Clap.

"Jesus." Arikka whispered, too shocked to say anymore on the subject.

"Or…" Matusmoto continued, "…The S.C.C. for short!"

"Shiro-chan!"

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Arikka frowned, deciding to focus on the least disturbing aspect of this all. "I thought that was The Shinigami Cultural Committee?"

"And so we are!" Joshiro answered, leaning over Arikka's shoulder and giving her a large grin. "Our next cultural event is next week, in fact."

"Do I want to know what it is?"

Joshiro laughed. "Of course you do. Why it's the world premier screening of our latest movie – 'Icy Dreams'!"

This apparently warranted squealing from the other members. The excitement was palpable.

"You made a movie?" Arikka asked, starting to dread the answer.

"Why yes! It's a seven hour whirlwind of love and anger and fear and hatred and love once again!" Joshiro said. "And of course it wouldn't have been possible without our amazing director, producer, and cameraman."

Matsumoto dropped her hand in front of her face in false modesty. "Why, thank you, Ukitake-taicho."

Arikka shook her head. She had a mighty bad feeling about this. "Seven hours? What have you got to fill up that much time?"

Matsumoto leant in as if this was a monumental secret and whispered into her ear. "Mainly it's Taicho sleeping, but at one point he gets up to use the bathroom."

Arikka deadpanned.

Was she… Was she filming him as he slept?"

This was seriously deranged, more so than any of the rumours circulating about her and the evident God of this club.

"I have to go." She said quietly, shrugging Joshiro off of her shoulder and making her way stoically to the door.

"Kuchiki-san?"

Despite Arikka's flight instincts that were telling her to get out of this crazy room as quickly as possible, she found herself stopping and turning at the unknown voice. She found herself face to face with a petite girl with dark brown hair whom she didn't think she had ever seen before.

"Yes?"

The girl bowed. "My name is Lalala Lala and it is an honour to meet you!"

"Uh, ok?" Arikka said, confused about this woman's respect.

The girl stood again and motioned for one of the others to come over. "This is my friend Doobedoo BeDoo."

"An honour to meet you, Kuchiki-san!" Miss BeDoo greeted, like her friend bowing.

Arikka frowned. "Hi. Why is it an honour?"

The two girls looked at each other, surprise written over their features. "Because Kuchiki-san has to put up with the most awful rumours being said about her! And yet she is handling it with such grace and dignity!"

"Wait," Arikka rubbed her forehead, trying to sort through the conflicting thoughts, "you know they're not true?"

"Of course!" Lalala replied.

"The S.C.C. knows all about Hitsugaya-taicho!" Doobedoo exclaimed.

That was comforting.

At least the stalkers knew of Arikka's innocence.

"Ladies, Gentlemen!" Joshiro called over the chatter of the room. "The Shiro-chan bingo is about to begin!"

"Yay!" Lalala and Doobedoo yelped at the same time. They bowed to Arikka before making their way back to their seats.

"And the first number is…" Joshiro sang, spinning the bingo drum and pulling out a small white ball. There didn't look like there was any number on it, instead a large picture of a certain face had been glued across one side. "… Shiro-chan writing!"

Most of the room groaned. A few cheered.

Arikka stared blankly at the odd scene, an important question occurring to her.

Did the real S.C.C. know about this?

"Sir, the latest ticket sales statistics are in!"

Ganto leant back in his impressive looking chair, his hands raised in a steeple in front of his ever passive face. He tapped his left foot impatiently. "And?"

The weak Shinigami standing in front of his desk stood a little straighter. "We have sold tickets for the Noh theatre production scheduled for the seventeenth of next month!"

Ganto narrowed his eyes. "I know. How many?"

"The performance is sure to be an excellent one! We have confirmed suitable actors and-"

"How," Ganto repeated with gritted teeth, "many?"

The Shinigami gulped. "Five, sir!"

"Five hundred? Well, that's nothing to be worried about. Sure, a few more would be preferable but-"

"No, sir." The Shinigami interrupted. It looked like he was shaking. "Just five."

"Just…" Ganto made out, "Five?"

"Yes, sir!"

Ganto felt his temper rising. His jaw was clamped shut and his palms fisted, but he remembered to keep his cool. "And how many have they sold?"

The Shinigami nervously looked down at the piece of paper in his hands. He looked up again and prepared himself for the worst. "Tickets to their next event sold out within thirty minutes of being on sale, sir."

Ganto swore and pushed the desk over in one of his rare moments of anger. His usually statuesque face contorted itself in rage and he began throwing things about the tiny office.

"Damn you, the so-called Shiro-Chan Corps!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. "The Shinigami Cultural Committee will have its revenge!"

Byakuya stepped lightly down the streets of Seireitei, his face the essence of nobility and composure. Simply being able to keep his inner frustration off of his face was an almighty achievement, but it was what someone of his position must do.

No one would trouble him today. They wouldn't dare.

Byakuya's ears twitched.

Someone nearby had just mentioned an all too familiar name.

He approached calmly, as nobility should, and stopped, making sure to keep a corner of a building between him and the culprit.

He listened.

His eyes narrowed.

His hand slipped onto the hilt of his sword.

His lips spoke.

"Scatter, Senbonzakura."

No one talked about his daughter like that.

Quite short today, compared to the last two chaps anyway.

Do you guys have Spam outside the UK? If you don't I'm sorry, but you're lucky anyways. Spam is icky. Even if I wasn't vegetarian I wouldn't go near it.

I'm afraid the tale of the first time Shunsui saw Nanao's boobies won't be revealed until much later on in the story. Oh, but what a tale it will be!

Review and I'll bake you a batch of cookies!