That took more effort than expected, but it seems I'm falling from my basics. So therefore, now that I've gotten the action aside, maybe I can try to fit something more noteworthy…
As a side note, Ortiz was based off of UFC fighter Tito Ortiz, though his character is very much different from the "Huntington Beach Bad Boy".
Disclaimer: I do not own BLEACH! I do, however, own The members of Canopus.
-To Mr./Mrs. snow fang: I appreciate your honesty, regardless of how blunt it is. Therefore, I ask for a chance to defend myself, no matter how useless excuses are. However, if my choice of vocabulary affronts you, making it appear condescending…I do not know whether to apologize for that, as I myself cannot see it that way. I explain things, perhaps a bit too much, so people won't chastise me for leaving them in the dark, metaphors and similes being colorful tools of mine: It simply is not enough to say an act, but a requirement of mine to describe it as close to perfection as I can. Also, since you have pointed out my BLEACH oriented mistakes, I will explain that the main reason for that…is simply until April of this year, I had little interest in the universe of Bleach. I did not acknowledge it as a worthy anime/manga at first, because there is a deluge of mangas that cannot sate my interest: That, obviously, has changed. Byakuya's name-typo was perhaps a result of my remembrance of Neji Hyuuga's "Byakkugan", and the zanpaku-to typo was brought to me only recently. I will resolve my mistakes, all the same. If you find it worthy of your attention, as you apparently have some experience in writing (as to what, I am not sure), I would appreciate your continued critiques. Its been a long time since I've had an honest report.
-And yes, I am not a Spaniard. So bear with me. Again, I am thankful of all reviews given to me. If you like my story so far, I am pleased. If not…let me know.
-Oh, and as a fore-warning: There will be character death soon.
Now, allow the story to continue again…
Chapter 12: Divergence
August 14th, Early morning…
Victory is not sculpted from the debris of the destroyed and the crippled. Only the most decadent would frame themselves as such gilded artists. Though it would forever remain a mystery to those that lacked psychic talent and the ability to perceive the supernatural, it did not help either the ignorant or the observant. The damage was foreseeable even to the richly blind, and what occurred-The Horror at Mashiba-would live as a time of infamy.
Mashiba, or at least the centerpiece of it, had been strewn in ruins, on the dawning eyes of August 13th. How it happened no one knew. No one could find a suitable scapegoat or candidate to accept the responsibility of such an assault. Simultaneously, no one could place a random disaster to explain the devastation. Even more horrific, to the people of Mashiba and Karakura in general…no one actually saw what caused the damage, and so thus were imprisoned in their wonderment.
On August 12th, as it had been a relatively busy workday, hundreds of testimonies swore that the central area of Karakura was left in its droll normalcy. Every building and every car, every utility owned by the government, had been left in its pristine form, unmarred by ersatz digits or mischievous psyches. Slender skyscrapers and stout warehouses, stores, and other dwarfish estates were left in immaculate states of maintenance, with each brick in its proper hole and each hinge screwed into its proper door holding. Windows held a glistening plane, barring physical entry perfectly while permitting the eyes to either focus on the yellow sun's rays or the desk workers inside. Parking meters and companions of the much-traveled sidewalk were rooted in their preordained spots stoically, caring none of rebellion, and only desiring to fulfill their purpose with stone-hard facets. Cars ventured in their intermittent schedules, stopping at destined locals and galloping off with suddenness of race horses. These vehicles of smaller manufacturing cared none of the guilty or garrulous definition of each pit stop they made, be it the laggard pub, the desperate law officer, the indifferent bank, or the hospitable work office. For all, the machine and the man driving it, the day was routine. Nothing, to the balanced citizens of Mashiba, that peddled and toiled and merely passed through…nothing appeared out of order, or out of the ordinary, and therefore no one could find a sticking image that penetrated their heads. Everything about the afternoon before was as clockwork as the day before that, and the day before that.
Thus, this is why the next dawn so easily and deeply struck those that frequented Mashiba. For once, the newspaper was as dumbfounded as the people it serviced, as its libel-plagued tongue flopped uselessly in the aftermath. To the news that night, which finally broadcasted it in the evening, it was described as "a curtain had been raised and we saw the damage done by surly saboteurs". The damage had been too random to be the work of a normal human's planning, but at the same time its was too rooted in determinism to befit a sleepy catastrophe. Thus, the law enforcement were put on to assess the damage, and thus compose what they-those not blessed or cursed with the gift of psychic sight-could understand.
As Isshin Kurosaki (a parent among many, his concern for his children trumping any sort of morbid curiosity that lingered inside) listened to his radio, the flabbergasted radio hosts were able to put an editorial of what the police chiefs had managed to sort out as fact, and sort our as speculation. Apparently, something had happened with the passing night of August 12th, and it did not just affect the central part of Mashiba. Much more had been touched, as if by some panoramic spell. Cars, which had run fine the previous day, were found in the morning in utter disrepair and destruction. One cop stated how a particular motor "had imprints in it, as if a fist had dived past the hood and tried to freakin' dig into the engine". Another car was found one morning in its suburban garage, not freshly washed as it had been the prior night, but with its cab raggedly broken in half. Yet a third car had been totaled entirely in its front, as if something had crushed its parts up to the cab, and stopped there. This lead to the assumptions of gang attacks, but all the attacks occurred in the span of one night, and those targeted apparently did not have any binding connections, save that at around 3:00 to 4:10, on August 12th, they had been in Mashiba, near the First Bank. Also, there was damage laced throughout the sidewalks, that which was be appropriate of rioters' destruction, had a riot taken place. Mailboxes were unhinged. Flawless brick walls and foundations now had arm-sized holes that reached about two feet deep and a sixth of an inch in circumference. Parking meters had been removed, bent like common pretzels. Signs had been bent and sometimes torn to pieces. And yet…the most horrific and mind-boggling of all…there were patterned holes in the concrete, breaking the asphalt texture without difficultly, but it was not erratic in its production. Now, as a young deputy demonstrated…it was like a person walked as he broke the sidewalk covering.
Confusion reigned supreme, and among fathers and mothers alike the damage surveyed was a ripe source of panic. The cops were equally mystified, but under the pledges of their captain, they agreed to root out the transgressors, and swiftly hammer justice into their capricious, callous backs. This was a satisfactory, albeit political tact, but it helped settle down the people, and as in the wake of any catastrophe, the road to reconstruction commence with the dawn of the 14th. People talked about the damage in their offices, on their phones, in their mercantile exchanges, and by their thrice-blasted watering 'holes'. But…their faults were their eyes, which could never open wide enough unless a particular battery assisted them. Hence, without the ability to open their eyes wide enough, the truth to the insurmountable damage…was left just above their floppy eyelids.
Only the spiritually aware know the truth. And to that end, Soul Society's Gotei 13 finally started to take a serious look into the whole affair. Originally, Captain-General Genryu Yamamoto did delegate the task to the capable Toshiro Hitsugaya and his lieutenant Rangiku Matsumoto, believing the low probability of humans opposing Soul Reapers, while a fitting fictional story, was unlikely in the context of reality.
The damage sustained by Toshiro Hitsugaya made even the ultra-conservative Yamamoto rethink the prospects. If it had been hollows, things which all Soul Reapers are trained to handle and dispose of, Yamamoto and the remaining Gotei 13 would not have noticed any problems. However, the damage strewn in Mashiba, combined with the unusual ailments of Hitsugaya, and the injuries placed upon Soul Reapers Ikkaku Madarame, Rukia Kuchiki, and undiscovered prospect Ichigo Kurosaki, forced his ancient eyes to accept a new dilemma. That, yes, there were some humans, like those that fought with Hitsugaya's troops, that knew of the existence of Soul Reapers. Unlike them, these humans were malign, and seemed to have no connection to anyone, but themselves. The proof only needed to be bared by the tape recorder acquired by Hitsugaya weeks ago, when it was revealed in the monologue that the group called "Canopus" captured and experimented on hollows, instead of purifying them or even blessedly destroying them. If they had no love for hollows, and simultaneously cared none for Soul Reapers, as given by the stripping of Toshiro Hitsugaya's powers…then exactly what sort of depraved discoverers and nihilists were the Gotei 13 dealing with?
Orders were given, and swiftly, for while it was difficult to rile the Captain-General to rage, it was quite a volcano once his ire was stroked. Soul Reapers Hanataro Yamada and Ikkaku Madarame were designated to return to the Seireitei, to give both a report of the fight, a description of the identified adversaries and their tactics, heal Madarame under better circumstances, and bring the corpse of Janus Bloodswerth to 12th Divison Captain Mayuri Kurotschuri for study. His tone, as depicted over the Kurosaki monitor, was not a pleasant, jolly timbre of an old grandfather. Yumichika Ayasegawa was also recalled for the time, and was to be better supplier of information than Ikkaku (due to injury) and Hanataro (due to his meek demeanor). The 5th seat was recalled more at the behest of a rather eager Captain Kenpachi Zaraki, who was practically foaming at the mouth for a chance to fight someone new.
For Matsumoto, her task was to remain behind, as a sentry to her thrice-wounded captain. Having still ten more weeks, hypothesized, until he regained his powers, it was imperative that someone should guard the 10th division captain. Ichigo was left in need of a hospital, much to the chagrin of his family and friends; the strawberry-haired boy had suffered a concussion to the head, internal bleeding, and bruised ribs. So too was Chad Yasutora, who endured the equivalent of an oceanic depth charge at his abdomen. Rukia, had it not been for Orihime's healing powers, would have been totting a neck brace under her chin. And Toshiro himself had endured countless lacerations to the point that his gigai was almost unsalvageable. Having been propped in charge, Matsumoto watched her comrades-at-arms try to heal as best as they could.
Amazingly, for someone who had been close to the fight, Karin Kurosaki had not a sliver of damage on her. Though her cheeks had been bright red from been slapped, it was miniscule in comparison to the damage incurred on her allies. Thus, she for the time was kept outside of the loop. Though her life had been put in danger twice now, she was not brought to the immediate attention of the majority of the captains.
What Matsumoto ensured was reported, however, was her achieving of a zanpaku-to. This was but another thing that Yamamoto had never experienced before. When it was revealed that she gained this ability not through the acquisition of death and then the process of becoming a spirit, but rather it magically appearing when the Seven-Sealed Devil touched her…again Yamamoto's brow furrowed in pensive thought. It was obvious they were dealing with peculiar, unique adversaries. The fact that the ultimate goal of Canopus had yet to be revealed was worrisome, but everyone concerned took heart in a reality.
Indeed, one must wonder if Canopus itself expected its hitman to sell them out, all for his gluttonous hedonism. He procured, according to the darker-haired Kurosaki, a tape recording supposed summarizing their nefarious plans, and willingly agreed to trade it, if they could defeat him and entertain him. As it was Matsumoto and Ayasegawa's timely arrival that ended the mat hatter's encroachments, the tape was retrieved, pocketed by Ayasegawa while the corpse was taken by comers.
So, to each, their places were set, trenched in as if they had been a part of the Somme itself. Before them was a hazy dead man's land, which none of those left to fend the post-Ishida, Matsumoto, and Inoue- dared to advance upon. The machine-behemoth Ortiz, who had waded effortlessly through Kurosaki, Chad, Madarame, and Rukia without so much as a scratch, intimidated those that remained. The dangerous Bloodswerth had been thankfully cut down, but Takumi Warunabe had mentioned a brother of his. How many more soldiers Canopus had under its reign, under the scrupulous Dr. Kiiromori was unknown, as anonymous as the goals of the shifty organization. Was Ortiz the strongest of their unit, or was there someone else, much stronger and more powerful than even that giant?
Everything laid in obscure clouds, hovering over the front. It was quiet for now, but Matsumoto, the interim leader, wondered if that was truly a good thing.
For Soul Society had made itself an enemy…and whether or not they were prepared to deal with it…was unknown at best.
Fortunately, war and warmongering was left to the warriors, and innocent activities were left to those that could handle the prospects of daily life. While Ichigo was taken to a hospital and not the Kurosaki clinic, Isshin did have his reasons. Why Ichigo did need support from his family, it would not do for either of his daughters to become neurotic messes over their brother. It was difficult for Isshin to do this, but he needed answers himself, and made a plan to visit his old friend at the candy store.
It had turned out, due to the shocking devastation done to Mashiba overnight and due to a deluge of calls from concerned parents (Isshin among them), that school had been canceled until further explanations were erected. This left Yuzu and Karin alone, with a beaten-up Hitsugaya at the clinic, fretting over him. But at least he was semi-conscious. Ichigo had not awoken since he was taken to the hospital, and the doctors wondered if he sustained more than a mere concussion.
Isshin pursed his lips as he brought the car to the Urahara Shoten shop. The flamboyant cover that he usually had was evaporated, and a wounded father took his place. Information was in coming…whether his friend would like it or not.
--
August 14th, Early Evening…
Ironic, how their positions had been reversed.
It had only been a week ago that it had been Karin Kurosaki, straddled in her bed with an ailment she accidentally caused. Her friend and houseguest, Toshiro Hitsugaya, had been her sentry, her guardian, and the silent watcher by her bed at that time. Now, it was a conscious but fuming white-haired captain that laid in bed, while Karin sat aside, super-focused on her hands as she pondered.
Thinking never was her specialty. Athletics tends to be her habitat, but even lacking the physical testing of her body, she was firmly aware of the storm inside her head.
"……Kurosaki." Toshiro muttered.
Karin did not at first answer, unsure if he was truly awake.
"Kurosaki. If you don't answer I will fling this pillow at your face."
Karin stifled a giggle. She did not want to laugh, and found Toshiro's candor to be enlightening.
"Are you shaken? Kurosaki?"
"My name is Karin, Shiro-chan."
"Well, Karin, speak your mind."
Karin at first did not say anything. Perhaps for an eleven-year old, who had little experience in these do-or-die situations, did not have the vocabulary for forming her emotions. As such, she floundered, her honesty a bubbling fish in the land-based air. Toshiro, who had his face towards the window, forsaken in the warm comfort of the raven-haired twin's bed, finally lost his patience, and grabbed his pillow, chucking at her. The soft projectile forced her out of her limited reverie and brought upon the 10th division captain her indignation.
"What was that for?!"
"…I told you I was going to throw this pillow at you if you did not talk. So I did." Toshiro said, returning to his brief vigil to the outside. The sun had faded prematurely today, blanketed by an army of clouds only about an hour ago. The behemoth mass that was these rain clouds had in short order swallowed the sky, and littered down upon the earth teething rain…as if to clean and purify the damage wrought.
"I'm not your soldier-girl. If anything, you're my houseguest! Its bad manners to chuck objects at your host!"
"And you would not prefer honesty?" Toshiro asked, his voice a strain between bemusement and amusement.
Karin faltered slightly at his glib retort, and her button-like face contorted into further frustration. Her emotions were now running on high, and she was having immense difficulty repressing them. Though his back was turned to her, Toshiro picked up on this aggravation, and spoke.
"If I promise you my word, to answer each and every question truthfully, will you talk to me?"
"…Why?"
"Because you mean a-something to me. I have a friend in Soul Society that reminds me of you."
Karin's eyes piqued at the slip of his tongue, but she dismissed it for the time being. She was just as interested, if not more, at the latter part of his statement. A mischievous smile formed on her face, and she was grateful that Toshiro's back was to her.
"Every question? The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"
"Yes." Toshiro scuffed out.
"Ok…" Karin started, and left herself to ponder with this new elevation. She still didn't know how to express herself, and decided to evade…at first.
"Who's your friend?"
"Hmm?"
"Your friend that reminds you of me?"
Toshiro finally cast a glance at Karin, and for the first time since the battle Karin fully appraised the wounds inflicted on him. In a way, she could understand, his being a mar on his psyche more so than on his body. Anytime she was scratched up or bruised, naturally she healed given time, but the scars on her pride were far greater than any on her person. Perhaps this was the case with "Shiro-chan", who, elevated to an exemplar position as he was, felt the mental scars deepen farther into his core than she could. His face bore the white bandages and the minor scrapes that survived that told of his battle and survived the healing process of Hanataro. The damage had been far worse, and Hanataro had stated that, even though Toshiro was healed from fatality, he still should not be so active. Thus, it had been easy to explain to her daddy that Toshiro was attacked by gang members, allowing him to be padded up at his mid-section by a frantic 'father-in-law', and incarcerating the youngest captain to Karin's bed. (Karin, for the time, slept with Yuzu), just before dealing with his son.
The divergence from his regular, goofy face to something so serious…had partially spooked Karin.
Toshiro's lips formed a thin line, as he sat himself up to better answer the question. His eyes seemed more distracted, and Karin began to wonder if he deliberately flubbed his lines.
"Didn't I tell you? Her name's Momo Hinamori. She and I pretty much were raised in the same household, as like you and your siblings. However, she's a lot older than me, and she's…busy, most of the time."
"What's she like?"
"A little too altruistic. Full of life. Friendly. She can't be embarrassed-that often-, and she puts her heart into everything at Soul Society. She just is…preoccupied, most of the time."
"…And that's reminds you of me…how?"
"Doesn't it?" Toshiro responded, his face indifferent in his words. "You've done things that have nearly gotten you killed twice now. I'd call that altruistic if nothing else. What reminded me of her from you was your hair anyway."
Karin squinted, in suspicion perhaps, more than anything else, for she really was not used to receiving compliments about her…figure. An absent hand reached to her head, and frayed a stray lock aside.
"So…you like…my hair." It was rhetorical in its entirety. Hitsugaya missed that.
"Yes. I guess I do."
Karin was glad that Toshiro turned to face the rain, his honesty-rule all apparent still. She was certain her cheeks were pink from the uncalled-for comment.
"There's a lot I like about you." Toshiro ventured on, unaware of Karin's deepening blush. "For one, you're unpredictable. I'm surprised you still have that plush."
"Hmm?"
"That dragon doll I won you at the carnival." Toshiro clarified, and pointed to the foot of her bed. Though it was Yuzu who possessed most of the dolls, Karin's recent acquisition, the Blue-Eyes White Dragon plush Toshiro had won at the carnival over a week ago, was perched at her bed, looking back at its occupant with a static, feral maw and cold eyes. Karin had been somewhat flustered when Yuzu had asked about it, shortly after getting it. (How it survived the ordeal with the Seven-Sealed Devil was anyone's guess). Even greater had been her surprise when Yuzu insisted on having the barbarous dragon plushy join her friendly, cuter looking dolls, to which Karin promptly refused. Even thus, Karin had refused to say exactly who got her the dragon, for by then her face mimicked an apple.
"Why do you still have it?" Toshiro asked. His face now melted into one of genuine curiosity, and he patiently awaited her answer.
"Uh…well…"
Toshiro gave a rather amused look, and he stated another rhetorical point. "You're blushing."
"Am not!"
Toshiro only continued his satisfied smile. "Is there anything else?"
Karin struggled for a question, any question, to divert her embarrassment, and found a very simple question. "Why are you a soul reaper?"
"…Why?" Toshiro tried to clarify.
"Y-yeah. Its not like you were drafted or something, right?"
"…no. It's a choice made by spirits to become soul reapers in the first place. Everyone has their own reason. For me…well…I guess Matsumoto was the one who opened the door."
"Matsumoto? Your lieutenant?"
"Yeah. She noticed how high my spiritual pressure was, said I would kill my Granny if I didn't get it resolved, and therefore I went into the Academy-"
"You had a Granny? And you went to an Academy?"
Toshiro looked puzzled at her emphasis, unaware of the terrors of school life in the preteens' existence, and the realization that the darker-haired twin, when she died, would have to repeat an academic semester. "Yeah. People don't spontaneously become Soul Reapers, after all. Well, normally. I graduated the same year as Momo, and eventually, I ended up as I am now."
"You don't like talking that much."
"Do you?" Toshiro countered. 'I don't exactly enjoy talking about myself."
That got Karin's interest, but she did not press the point. She dusted her hands off her shirt, and pressed another nagging point, one that she did not want to bring up, for the sake of her own dignity, but one that was demanding release.
"Toshiro…are you lonely?"
The white-haired captain raised his silver-locked eye brows at her innocent question, showing clearly how dumbfounded he was. In turn, Karin hastily tried to clarify her statement.
"I mean, you look like a kid, but-"
"I have Momo," was his simple response.
Karin frowned at both the simplicity and his lack of perception. "No, no! I mean…remember what I said, how people would be sad if you got yourself hurt?"
Toshiro nodded, lacking words to express himself.
"Did you want to be a Soul Reaper, at first?"
"…..it was a matter of necessity, Karin. Either I became a soul reaper and take my power by the reigns, or I would've killed my granny. In a way, you're the same way."
"I am not."
"Then how do you explain that zanpaku-to you got?" At this Hitsugaya motioned over to the sleeping, sheathed saber in the corner, which only Toshiro and Karin knew it for what it was. Again, Yuzu had made notice of the new addition to the room, and questioned her more athletic sister about it. To this end, she used Toshiro as a means. According to Karin, Toshiro apparently had an interest in swords (whether this was truth or falsity Karin hadn't bothered to ask), and had acquired one from the Urahara Shoten. Yuzu found this acceptable, but asked that she make sure Toshiro clean it, and keep it holstered.
"You are human, and yet you have a zanpaku-to, something only a Soul Reaper should maintain. To be a soul reaper means you're already dead. You've already demonstrated some potential, and-"
"Shiro-chan. What the crap are you talking about?"
"……blast it…denser than stone, this whole family is." Toshiro muttered, shuffling in his bed. "Even though Bloodswerth is dead, Canopus and Soul Society know about you. You have and your brother have a frighteningly high spiritual pressure, and its affecting everyone around you both. I don't know if you got your gift from Ichigo, or vice versa, but the fact is that tuxedoed nutjob forced a zanpaku-to out of you the same way he forced me past my limits. When this is all over…you may end up dealing with things as I have. I almost killed Granny with my potential. You could very well kill Yuzu or your father with it."
"I'm still not picking up what you're saying."
Toshiro's face degenerated into a cute picture of irritation. "All of Ichigo's friends have become infected with his spiritual pressure. If they don't have the ability to see ghosts, eventually, they will. The same could be said for you, with your friends, and Yuzu. Thus…I have to wonder if you'll attract the Gotei 13's attention."
"Oh? And you're gonna say something?"
"No. You've been through enough."
"Yeah, says you." Karin muttered, before remembering something. "When you had that Howdy-maru-"
"Hyourimaru." Toshiro said through clenched teeth.
"Alright, alright! Sheesh." Karin backed off. "Did your thing ever talk to you?"
"All the time." Toshiro responded. The noble manners of the ice dragon, though faded from ordinary activity, had not been forgotten.
"Good. I was wondering if I was going out of my head." Karin stated, a reassuring hand caressing her brow. "During the fight, I was hearing this voice shouting at me. Sounded pretty mean, and didn't like me."
At this Toshiro looked at her. "What do you mean?"
"Well…that guy or something kept rambling on that I wasn't its boss or what not. I tried repeating those words the top-hat nutcase said, but I can't get it to be that huge hammer it was before."
"…that was probably your zanpaku-to spirit. Though…wait a minute…Bloodswerth said something about that, didn't he?"
Karin remembered herself, and fell silent, her eyes turning to her sister's side of the room, with all its pretty pastels and its armada of dolls. She knew exactly what had started this, and she was sure, from the way Toshiro's face worked visually, that he was putting the pieces together…
"Karin. Where was that syringe you showed me?" His voice was a shade of icy brilliance, and there was the authority expected of a captain laden inside of it. Karin, unsure exactly how to respond, faltered briefly. Her hesitation sealed it, and Toshiro manually turned her to face him, eyes of teal meeting orbs of midnight shadow.
"It was you. You put that syringe in you. That's why you got sick, last week…That liquid was a zanpaku-to spirit! And you-" Toshiro seemed to lose his cool, if not for a moment, and he turned away from her. After composing himself, with his back presented to her, Toshiro asked stolidly. "Why did you do it?"
Karin had an immediate answer. "My Gawd, Shiro-Chan ("Hitsugaya." He retorted)! Did you ever look at yourself? You were getting beaten down in the dumps so bad…I couldn't stand to see you like that. You were getting picked on like a little kid, and these guys were a buncha bullies, and you couldn't do anything about it! So, I tried to do something!"
"…Karin. Do you want to die?"
"…Huh?"
"Do you want to die?" Toshiro responded. His eyes became very soft, as if he was burdened with some irremovable sin. His face, for the first time, showed a possible age estimate, and he appeared very worried or saddened.
"Of course not!" Karin responded.
"You unwittingly got yourself into this…your brother would hang me if he was conscious. And that's what you're opposing, Karin. What's opposing us all. These guys mangled your brother, robbed me of my powers, and put a 3rd seat officer through a meat grinder. And these were only two guys. There may be a whole group of humans that we know next to nothing about, and seems to know how to cripple us. Do you think you have the stomach to deal with that? That you will find yourself fighting for your life? This isn't a child's game, Karin." Toshiro stated, his voice becoming more intense with each word muttered. Karin found security in her confidence.
"I don't care about that! You think I'm your damsel to be rescued, Shiro-Chan? Look and what's happened to you! You took the brunt of the attack and ended up gutted like a fish-"
"I care too much for you to be hurt by them!" Toshiro interjected, his emotions trumping his common sense and his tongue. Perhaps he realized his mistake, for he turned back to the window and the symphonic rain, his face now flushing and his anger now evaporating. Karin herself lost control over her tongue, not sure in the least how to remark. Instead, both young minds surrendered to feeble quiescence, interrupted only by the noisy commotion of Yuzu cooking another culinary masterpiece downstairs, and the steady-dropping rain outside.
After a few minutes, Toshiro composed himself, and turned back to his dark-haired friend. "Karin. You are a great friend to me. This is not fear of your brother that makes me want to keep you safe. I've been beaten before. I can take pain, even in this gigai. But I don't want anything to happen to you." Toshiro gazed at her, and Karin could see the honesty in his voice. "Putting that syringe in you was stupid, but we can't do anything about it now. I'd rather not bother Unohana about this. Instead, we'll make do with it as best as we can."
"…y-yeah. Yeah!" Karin bellowed, getting her voice back. "I'll use this! I don't want to sit back and watch, Shiro-Chan. I want to help too."
Toshiro looked at her, scrutinizing her for a flaw, but huffing perhaps in disappointment as he couldn't find one. "Fine. If you're that eager, I'll see that you at least learn the basics. You can't fight as sloppily as you did before."
"What do you mean? I nailed him a lot!"
"That's because he let you, Kurosaki."
"My name's Karin."
"And mine's Hitsugaya."
The youths found silence again, but it was not as intense. Instead, it was somewhat of a relief to them both, and Karin leaned back in her seat on the foot of her bed. Vaguely she looked for something to tend to, before the youngest captain again interrupted the solace.
"Karin. Can I, ask a favor?"
"Sure." Karin said, a smile returning to her face. "What's up?"
"You still have more questions, I'm sure." Toshiro said. "These I'm willing to answer. However…I kind of…liked it…when I held your…hand." Karin could feel her smile widen as he struggled to say this while keeping an image of stoicism. "Can I…hold your hand…why we talk?"
It was almost like Toshiro had reverted to a kid again, unsure of the future answer and hesitant to ask in the first place. But Karin could only smirk. After all, what were friends for?
"Sure, Shiro-Chan."
He hesitantly took her lithe hand, treating it at first like a bear trap. But Karin did not withdraw, and they became bound by their fingers. It was nothing of the coldness she expected of him, but it held a regal wreath of humane cordiality that made her feel…safe. She could remember how her brother, her father, and vaguely her mother, how each of them held her. But this was different. It was strong, and yet gentle, a simple embrace. A cozy inn inside a freezing snowstorm. Toshiro gave an almost invisible smile, as his fingers wrapped around them. She returned it with a much larger, more obvious grin.
It would be some time before Yuzu came up to usher her sister and 'brother-in-law' in for dinner for the three. Daddy would not be back until the night ended, and everyone else was in bed. However, both noticed how warm their hands were, even as they parted from the bond.
It was a binding neither wanted undone.
--
August 14th, Soul Society, late night…
"…ahem. Very well. Meeting adjourned."
The static, reigning with an intermingling aftershave of argumentative voices, finally went blank after a quarter of an hour of introductions and back-biting. To say they had been the most cohesive of units was not of veracity when applied. The sound of rushing bodies, signally the departure of all present, sounded briefly, before it came to this point. The static resumed for a moment, but at last it cut off.
The Soul Reaper Captains were brought back to reality. They were not all in number, numbering only ten of the thirteen: Toshiro Hitsugaya's case was obvious, Gin Ichimaru was absent on a Menos Grande attack in Rukongai, to which his assistant Kira followed, and Byakuya Kuchiki also was mysteriously vacant, in his stead being Renji Abarai. The meeting was quickly shut behind closed doors, permitting none save the present captains and lieutenant captains from entrance. For the matter had become quite dire in its own device.
Much could be gleaned from both pieces of information they obtained: The corpse of Janus Bloodswerth, and the tape recorder he used as bait. However, while much could be obtained, at the same time the minds of the captains struggled to solve the riddles obtained from the words of the Canopus members. Janus had apparently pulled a fast one. Nothing, as expected of a nihilistic cabal, was every so cleanly stated. Much was left to speculation, and in times of armed defense, speculation was dangerous. Get the answer right, and there are no worries. Get the answer wrong, and one may be walking straight into the jaguar's jaw.
As Izuru Kira learned, when he was briefed of the matter upon his return, it was a bittersweet combination of truths and enigmas. Lacking sufficient spine to take responsibilities of a leader without first crumbling into despair, Kira found that many of his fellows visited anger at the potential ploy, the heartiest voice among them being Kenpachi Zaraki. It would be his friend Momo Hinamori that explained everything to him, and told both the good news and the bad.
The good news was what they could collect. They learned who some of the major players in the organization was, as well as who was classified as the strongest. In total, there were five, six if one included the figurehead leader: Janus Bloodswerth, the Seven-Sealed Devil; Ortiz, the mechanical behemoth; Takumi Warunabe, mentioned in the recording as a telepath; His brother, whose name was not mentioned and did not speak at all during the dialogue; Hajime Roku, the business-as-usual leader of a sect called the Shishi Roku; and the one giving their orders and paying their sums, Dr. Kokoro Kiiromori. What was also gleamed was that, of these warriors, Warunabe's older brother and Ortiz were the strongest, cited as rivaling captains. The fact that numbers was not their strong point emboldened the captains, particularly Yamamoto. Ukitake, however, confessed caution, as their powers were not normal, but on a wide spectrum. Though they could gather that Kiiromori and Takumi were not combatants, both had other skills that made them dangerous. Takumi's supposed ability as a telepath meant that he could gain information without a shred of effort, while Kiiromori, as indicated by his confessed interests in hollows and zanpaku-to spirits, held a scientific marvel about him.
Worse of all, it was revealed that Kiiromori was the figurehead and not the actual leader. In the recording, Kiiromori stated firmly that he was the vanguard to his leader, who supposedly 'had a rare disease which prevented him from leaving his room'. Due to this, Kiiromori acted in his stead, but he took great pains not to reveal the name of his employer. The fact he referred to the five as 'dregs' did not sit well with obvious trust.
The interim missions of each group was set into motion, and outlined in the message. Janus was immediately set to attack Toshiro Hitsugaya, but the date was incorrect. Kiiromori told Bloodswerth to attack on August 4th, the second time Bloodswerth attacked Hitsugaya. All the captains knew by then that Toshiro had been assaulted on the 30th of July: Why else would Matsumoto and company come to help, after receiving Renji's report? This boggled the captains, but they deduced that it was merely Janus's overeager nature. He attacked before his time, because he was excited.
The other four had more scrupulous missions lined out: Takumi, with his mind-reading skills, was sent off to gather information. Ortiz was told to wait, for now. The brother of Warunabe was told, for that time to part-take in some experiment. And Hajime Roku was given the task of rounding up and capturing hollows in Hueco Mundo. Also brought up was the matter of a sixth man, not present but apparently enlisted with a rather secret mission: A genderless person called Naikao, who Kiiromori would not speak any of. Apparently, he was sent to Soul Society, but why was unknown, as well as his appearance.
The last bit kept the captains on their toes, as they listened for more. Again, it was a tarry of riddles formulated word-of-mouth by the unnamed employer. The long-term goals of the organization were not in the least outlined, though there were several cryptic messages which left themselves open for broad interpretation. In many cases, to which Zaraki and Kyoraku verbally assessed what everyone else was thinking, one had to wonder: "Is that guy crazy or something?"
The boss's mental stability aside, Yamamoto and the other preceding captains of the Gotei 13 gathered what they could, each with some stigma that made little sense unless the underlying meaning was understood:
1. Above all else, the group verbally stated a centerpiece of its mission (the only part that was clear). This was the death or the crippling of Toshiro Hitsugaya, and exactly why was unknown. Kiiromori stated on the tape that his employer "feared the dragon of ice, and so wished to hurriedly break its back". To that, everyone was able to figure out. After all, Captain Hitsugaya just happened to be in the living world when Bloodswerth disobeyed his orders. Based on the date of the recording-June 25th-Canopus had been seeking the 10th company captain's destruction long before then. However, the nagging 'why'-why Hitsugaya had been marked as the number one target and not another captain-prickled the keener minds of the Gotei 13. The fact that they attacked three times with the same assassin, and left his allies in disarray, did not temper their emotions well.
2. Though the destruction of Hitsugaya was the number one short-term goal, apparently, Canopus had a scientific interest both in zanpaku-tos and hollows. The fact that Hajime Roku and his sect were deliberately ordered to collect more hollows did not go unnoticed, and to this end most of the captains found a silver lining, voiced by Sosuke Aizen. The fact that they target hollows and Soul Reapers indiscriminately meant that Canopus could not form an alliance with one, to slaughter the other. That meant Canopus was its own force, with its own agenda.
3. Kiiromori stated briefly several cryptic messages relayed by his employer, the meaning of which was lost in literal translation. Interestingly, both messages were relayed to the Warunabe brothers, and namely the elder. The doctor stated how he "must cut the legs of the Queen Bee" and "Slaughter the spellbinder among the Reapers". Apparently, the Elder Warunabe had some skill that was supposed to aid his task, whatever that was.
4. Lastly, what could be gleaned was that while several soul reapers had been killed, reaped ironically for their swords, Kiiromori made specific note of the 2nd division. Apparently, towards Captain Soi Fon's company, he held a respect that would indicated being taken seriously. To the other divisions, he said nothing about, but when Ortiz asked when he could fight, the doctor did not give an immediate answer. Instead, he substituted that when he could fight, he could fight to "his black heart's content."
The tape was rewound several times, so the entire dialogue could be documented, helpfully by Aizen and Hinamori. Thus, Kira, arriving late after assisting his captain, was able to learn the details. Intensity, the calm before the flayed storm, was obvious to everyone around. As a lieutenant, and emboldened and simultaneously horrified by the damage done to Ikkaku, Kira took it upon himself to patrol the Seireitei, in case the elusive, anonymous Naikao could be spotted. (Actually, this is Kira's way of thinking, as a means of boosting his self-esteem: Yamamoto ordered the lieutenants to patrol the Seireitei, leaving the captains to plan and the 3rd Seats to the duties of the lieutenants).
Kira was now completing his second round among the vast Seireitei. As it stood, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, with everyone going about their business as he went his own. Currently, as he passed the 6th division office, he briefly wondered if Renji was there, having perhaps finished early and relieved by another assistant-captain. The lights were on, as indicated by yellowing lights beyond the panes of glass, but as he listened in aimlessly, he recognized the voice not as Renji's, but as Byakuya's. There were very few places that noble tone could not pierce and be recognized as what it was…but Kira wondered for what purpose Captain Kuchiki would be out here. Even if it was his division, what sort of task could keep him here, when he could attain better privacy at his manor?
The blond Soul Reaper decided it would be best not to disturb him. Even from beyond the closed threshold, Kira could tell Kuchiki was exceptionally busy. While the ivory door barred his sight, his ears picked up the familiar sounds of rustling papers, filtered through with haste unbecoming of a noble, and furniture being moved around rather roughly…
"I don't think I want to know." Kira murmured. Deciding it would be far safer simply to leave the eccentric captain to his ways, the 3rd division lieutenant left the door to his back, and turned his path towards the 5th division headquarters.
As he wandered through the rather trouble mazes of spirit-laced ivory and marble, Kira made note of the various scenery, being as he had little else to occupy his mind. The sky of the Seireitei took on a coal-black hue, the stars shading away from the vindictive, crawling darkness around them. The towers and spires of the Seireitei rose high, reaching up to graze the malignant sky, failing for eternity. Briefly his eyes chanced a glance at the prison tower, which he had heard Rukia Kuchiki was supposed to go to. However, for one reason or another, despite the increased mandates of the Central 46, Yamamoto put aside the concerns of the senate body for the sake of the targeted captain, in an unusual reversal of fortune. Kira found the whole matter peculiar, but said nothing. It did not make any sense for the Central 46 to forget about the well-being of one of its captains for the constant demand of an unseated Soul Reaper, a fact Yamamoto (usually a loyal adherent to government) pointed out. He would continue forward with the acquisition of Rukia Kuchiki, but only after this newly identified menace was eliminated.
Perhaps that was why Captain Kuchiki was ferreting around in good haste. He had been acting strangely as of recent.
As he neared the 5th division office, the Assistant-Captain of the 3rd Division noticed something that he would never expect Aizen to do. The wooden door emblazoned with their number was slightly ajar, as if shifted open, and then forgotten. Being a prospect of both Aizen and Ichimaru, Kira had learned much of his mannerisms. Usually, regardless of him being there or not, the door was closed. So why…?
Kira quickly noticed a light left on: A simple lamp, he assumed, as Aizen did both his studies and his reports at night, often in solitude (unless Momo came). However, the window was left shut, quite unlike the door.
The blond soul reaper felt an unusual anxiety, bolstered by the darkness around him, as he inched closer to the door. Something was up, and he knew it. He couldn't feel Aizen's spiritual pressure, and Aizen, unless he had some sort of business, was in his office at the night hours.
"I wonder-" He murmured, for some reason struck by the desire to be quiet. What stopped his words was a sudden noise. A thump, as if a heavy object was hitting a stable piece of furniture. Then he heard an animalistic growl.
"Ai…Zen…soft." The voice incoherently growled. Then Kira heard a more recognizable voice.
"You seem interesting…show me your eyes." It was Aizen's but it lacked the calmness Kira was used to hearing. At this point, he could sense two spiritual pressures: one wavering, and the other dominatingly aflame.
"…Kill…kill…For my brother. I see you." Kira felt himself paralyzed, unsure exactly if he would be successful if he intervened. Aizen was much stronger than him, but from the sounds of it, Aizen was being overpowered.
"It doesn't work…doesn't work…" The savage, guttural voice said aimlessly. Kira heard him grip something, and then heard the familiar sound of metal. "Spare my brother…I give favor."
"What are you talking about?" Aizen spoke out. There was no fear, but he was still not in a place of dominance.
"Slaughter the unjust, Fujinai Yabanuta."
Kira heard a pair of blades dig into flesh, though what was what was still unknown. At this point Kira's concern overcame his cowardice. Muttering his shikai, he rushed to the door and kicked it open.
The sight was one he vaguely realized, Momo would faint over.
The room had been turned into a wreck, with all sorts of items flung around. Furniture was overturned. Blood was painted on the ceiling and ground. Reports, documents, and books were cast aside with abandon. The walls did not even escape unscathed, monitored with imprints of bodies. Kira's eyes were turned to main desk where the captain usually sat, and his stomach turned. There were two bodies there. One he recognized immediately as Sosuke Aizen, whose now-inert and bleeding body laid in a broken mess of timber. His kimono and haori were stained crimson with his own sticky blood, the wounds evident by a pair of large dirks penetrating his chest. His glasses were not on his face, tossed and broken half-way across the room. His eyes were vacant, and his body wasn't moving.
Kira's attention was drawn, instead, to the small man standing over him, his hands thrust out. His head was covered by a mane of long, brown hair, with a dash of pink at the very ends. He wore a kimono of white, instead of the typical Soul Reaper black. A vacant sword sheath stood at his hip, and all in all, he didn't look that impressive. Shabby in fact, from the way his clothes and hair were arranged. However, tension held in this anonymous man like a bow ready to fire. Kira noticed also a syringe in its hand, and the brown-haired man took no notice of Kira's entry. For him, he simply stuck the syringe into Aizen, and pulled back.
Kira found his voice then. "Y-You there! Raise your arms! You're under arrest."
The man didn't even pay him any attention. Kira wondered how he could even see with that mass of hair obscuring his vision. The man filled up his syringe, pocketed it, grabbed his dirks from Aizen's bleeding body, and turned to face Kira. Indeed, his hair was obscuring not just his eyes, but his entire countenance.
"Out…of…my way." The man, perhaps Hinamori's size, snarled. The dirks were now in his hand.
"No! Do you belong to Canopus?!"
"I belong…to…my little brother." The head cocked itself, like a questioning beast. Kira caught a glimpse of his kimono, and saw a number of slashes on his front.
"You cannot fight me! You'll die with those injuries."
"Get out…of…my…way." The man said, raising his dirks again, a challenge from a bloody beast.
Kira looked to the man, and then back to Aizen, and saw that if he fought this man, Aizen certainly would be dead. And there was no guarantee that he could survive. The spiritual pressure being released by the little monster was shocking to him.
Kira lowered his blade, sighing in surrender. Realizing this, the brown-haired man cocked his head, before pocketing his dirks as well. Without another word, the stranger in the white kimono walked past Kira, his existence already forgotten.
For the Assistant-Captain, he realized time was of the essence. Cursing himself for lacking in kido abilities, Kira tried to do what he could. It would indeed be his head, if another captain was slain.
--
End Chapter.
-The zanpaku-to Fujinai Yabanuta should translate literally into "Woman Love, Barbarous Song".
