"Oh, damn. He really showed up. What are you going to do?"
"Calm down, Jinta. Let's just be patient and see what he does."
The nervous redhead paced, eyeing the monitor every few steps. Jinta had always been rather jumpy, overreacting and blowing things out of proportion. Not that the kid didn't have reason to this time, Kisuke mused. Fate was poised delicately at a turning point, once again swirling all her mystery around one equally unpredictable human. He smiled at the unaware epicenter of chaos on the screen as the man once more walking away, looking increasingly irritated.
Adjusting a knob on the monitor to follow his target, Kisuke watched the confused human stop a passing woman and show her a piece of paper. The woman shook her head and the man threw his hands up in the air in frustration as she walked on. Studying the paper, the man turned again, carefully inspecting each house and the building numbers. He had been circling the block for a good ten minutes before calling someone, Jinta's wife most likely to confirm the address, and then circling again. Now the orange head was turned right toward the monitor, the familiar face tightening in a very familiar expression of determination. Kisuke felt the pressure coming from him, so weak compared to what it used to be.
"Oho, still have a little bit of fire, eh, Kurosaki?"
"Stop him, Kisuke!"
"Why would I want to do that?"
"What the hell? You said he can't remember, that it would cause some kind of fracture in reality!"
"Oh, I was lying."
He chuckled at the shocked look from Jinta. Seriously, the kid had known Kisuke, well, since he was actually a kid. And he still hadn't caught on.
"Jinta, if you want to use such fanciful language, then reality is already fractured. Kurosaki started to remember when the young captain fell back into his life. Everyone nearby who had any significant power started to remember. Your wife has too little to be affected, but Kurosaki, his wife, the Quincy, they're all staring right into that fracture thanks to Hitsugaya's presence. And with all of the young captain's power focused on recovering his memory, how do you think that would affect those near him with gaping holes in their own memories?
"They probably don't remember any specifics yet and perhaps they never will. But all of them must feel, must know at the very deepest level that their lives are built on lies. What else do you think would have caused a perfectly boring and average marriage to suddenly implode? It wouldn't surprise me in the least if his wife and that Quincy kid show up here in due time, looking for their own answers. So stop worrying about it, it will play out the way it must."
"If it was that easy to wake up the strawberry, why didn't you just do it before?"
"You think I didn't try? Now, don't you think you should go? Or do you want to explain to the good doctor why his dear little sister's husband is in on the world's biggest secret?"
"If you bring him back, then he'll be dragged back into the war. They'll all be in danger again, him, his friends, his family . . . Yuzu."
"My dear boy, they already are."
"You're really going to do this?"
He looked back at the monitor as he allowed the barrier to thin. Brown eyes widened and stared for a moment before the man started walking quickly forward.
"Yes, my friend. I really am."
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"It is bad enough that I must tell that fool 'No' again and again. I will not deal with the same obstinance from my own lieutenant."
"Taicho, you are the one being obstinate. I've seen the way you look at him, and he adores you. I'm not telling you to marry him, just get to know him a little. No one ever died from going out for coffee."
"I don't even like coffee. And you know as well as I that it's a terrible idea to encourage him when I can never give him what he wants, so stop before I make it an order."
Another form joined the completed pile, and he kept his eyes on his work. He tried to stay calm, though he was increasingly agitated by these episodes. At first, he was just annoyed by the substitute Shinigami's frequent visits and invitations to join him for activities alone, what could only be called dates. The boy persisted, even after Toshiro's team left the Living World, and he began to grow angry.
"I don't think it's a terrible idea at all, taicho, otherwise I wouldn't suggest it. But if you want to ignore the obvious and just keep being lonely, I don't suppose I can stop you. I just never thought you were one to lie to yourself."
"Get out." His voice was low and quiet, and she knew him well enough to know how close to breaking he was.
When the war had come, Kurosaki had sacrificed his power to bring Aizen down. More than that, he had thrown himself in harm's way, taking on Aizen's army in its own territory to save a friend, just as he had faced the entirety of Soul Society to save Kuchiki Rukia. Toshiro watched his selfless, heroic actions in awe and growing admiration. But temptation was ended along with the human's power. No more would he be bothered by that playful smirk and teasing voice. The substitute Shinigami was an ordinary human, incapable of popping up uninvited in his office to harass him.
"Let me make you an offer, taicho."
"I said leave, Matsumoto."
She shivered a bit as the temperature dropped. His temper was frayed, and he did not want her to know why. He had done his part to bring back Kurosaki's power, and he had done it gladly. It was more than duty. He wanted to help. He wanted that annoying, fearless, stubborn, kind, arrogant idiot back. He missed him, and thought maybe, just maybe he had made a mistake pushing him away so many times. And the first thing the idiot had done when he regained his power was to ask Toshiro out again, and again.
"Hear me out, and then I promise I'll leave you alone, all alone just like you want to be."
He glared, but she rushed on before he could retort.
"The budget, taicho. Leave it to me, the whole thing. You can double check my work, of course."
He blinked, anger derailed. That was two weeks of steady work, well for her anyway. He'd have it done in a week at most. A week, then, of office work he could avoid. More importantly, she would have no excuse; she would finally have to learn the ins and outs of the budget. He wouldn't let her get out of it, not any tiniest bit of it. And for what? An hour and choking down a vile drink.
Could he do it? She was right about one thing, he had become quite good at lying to himself. It was ridiculous, risking his position, his honor, his way of life for an infatuation. That's why he was so agitated. Anger, annoyance, attraction, temptation. Could he endure an hour of that and walk away?
"Deal. And don't even think of trying to get out of it, Matsumoto. I'm a heartbeat away from demoting you as it is."
"Saturday morning, then. I'll let Ichigo know. You won't regret it, taicho!"
He clenched his teeth and tried to shut out the chatter as she failed to leave as promised, instead yapping about what he would wear on his date. She was wrong. He regretted it already.
He rubbed his eyes. Staring too long into a fire was pretty foolish, and the never-ending headache was worse thanks to it. Letting memories take over his mind was not helping. Momo had once told him it was just a stage in recovery, required for healing. But he'd been through this already. Last time, wallowing in the past had taken years of his time, and he still couldn't say that he healed. This time, he would not let himself be overwhelmed.
The squad had started to pack up, a little less than an hour until they would move. Today was, regretfully, going to be empty. They would change camps, expecting updated intelligence from the west for a strike the tomorrow. He hated having a more or less idle day. It gave him too much time to think.
His mood improved as his ears picked up at a set of whistles. Intruder in the camp, expected friendly, being verified. Perhaps it wouldn't be a wasted day, after all. He waited impatiently, protocol wisely demanding he keep his distance from the visitor in case they were hostile and hoping to target a captain. When the all-clear sounded, the visitor vanished. A courier, then, even better. He walked out to greet the day and the reiatsu-sealed envelope in Matsumoto's hand. Cracking the seal, he read quickly, his mind piecing together today's variations on the code from context.
"Matsumoto, have the squad battle ready in five minutes. Anything not ready to move, destroy it. We won't be able to come back."
She was too experienced to show much of the alarm she felt, but couldn't stop herself from asking.
"What is it, taicho?"
He looked up, eyes glowing with barely contained bloodlust. "Espada."
She raced away, and he quickly sorted what he needed, incinerating the rest. No better target could be had, since Aizen himself never left Reiokyu. The traitor's army had changed. His original Espada had been destroyed, only two remaining. Somewhere hiding in Hueco Mundo, a female Espada who had allied herself with Ichigo. And the former Sexta Espada, Grimmjow, hanging on in the shadows of Aizen's court. That one had lost all rank and privileges, yet he stayed, fighting for recognition, and betraying his master with every breath.
When he had been wounded and trapped in a broken gigai with no memory, he had been on his way to meet with Grimmjow. He was often the one assigned this mission, which required the ability to quickly reform strategies in case anything went wrong. Well, something had gone wrong. Now he had the opportunity to kill, or better yet, capture one of the new Espada. If fortune and skill were on his side, he may be able to learn what had happened, whether it was bad luck or if the Gotei had a traitor high enough to have known and leaked the plans.
As a bonus, he may learn if Grimmjow was still alive and unfettered. If the enemy learned of their plans, then Aizen would have slowly and painfully killed the turncoat by now. He couldn't say he didn't care. The former Espada pissed him off at every meeting, with unwanted advances and even more unwanted inquiries about Ichigo. But the information he provided was invaluable, and the lengths he went to, the treatment he put up with to get that information was worth respect.
The squad had gathered, drawing zanpakuto in response to seeing their captain with blade bare. He shared what he knew, which was not much, an Espada departed Seireitei, visiting a series of strongholds through Rukongai, heading north. Eight Shinigami would stake out and prepare to secure the enemy camp in north District 48. He would lead the rest to north District 46 in an attempt to intercept, and fall back to 48 if they were too late.
It could be a trap, but the slightly erratic path the Espada was taking told him it could also be legitimate. It was a sloppy attempt at stealth, the kind of error one made out of sheer arrogance. This Espada was convinced that he was safe, and that even if he was not safe the enemy could not hope to harm him. There was good reasoning behind this, it had been years since the Gotei had been able to even scratch an Espada.
Speed, and the ability to form plans with the barest of data and the narrowest of windows for reconnaissance, this was Toshiro's forte. The team drank in their captain's excitement, his wicked grin, his predatory stride. This was why the 10th captain's personal squad had more successful raids, more kills, and fewer casualties than any other. Even Zaraki had never taken one of the new Espada alive, but he would do it, or he would finally die trying.
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She was trying to stay focused on her work, something Yuzu never had trouble doing before. But ever since the day Hitsugaya left, she was having problems concentrating. No, that wasn't true, she was having problems ever since she really started to get to know the mystery patient. Who knows what he is like now? It's just the grieving process. The man is gone, in more ways than one, it's as if the person she had spent all those hours talking to had died.
If she was feeling it this strongly, then her brother must be truly suffering. She looked out at the clinic, where he stood chatting with a patient's family. No one would guess anything was wrong. His bright smile and attentiveness charmed everyone who met him, and his work had not suffered even with the increasingly frequent trips to Karakura. But then, how long had his marriage been falling apart, while she, a psychologist and his sister, was a few feet away and none the wiser? Her eyes searched for and caught the glint of silver on his hand. Not the brushed gold with the beveled edges she had helped Orihime pick out.
When her brother headed to his office, she was right on his heels, shutting the door behind her. He raised his brows as he set down some files and turned to face her.
"Everything alright, Yuzu?"
"No. And it isn't going to be until you tell me what's going on with you."
She expected his smile to be fake, reassuring. She was surprised to find it seemed genuine, like he was actually happy about something. That just could not be true. Unless her suspicions were right, that these trips to Karakura were to see Hitsugaya, the patient he had admitted falling in love with, the patient that had confessed similar feelings to her in therapy. But every time she asked about Hitsugaya, or Karakura, or that ring he just smiled and changed the topic, stubborn as a mule.
"Well," he sat at his desk with a nonchalant attitude, "I needed to talk to you anyway. You remember Dr. Fujita? She would need two weeks' notice to come here. I'll spend a week with her, making sure the transition goes smoothly. Then I'm on sabbatical, at least 6 months per our contract. I have told her this is all pending your approval, and she's prepared to come for a meeting to discuss any concerns. Since you already know each other, I was hoping it wouldn't be a problem."
Reaching blindly and waving her hand around in the air, she found the back of the chair and guided herself to over to it while the impossible words kept pouring out of his mouth. She knew she was sitting with her eyes wide and possibly her mouth was hanging open.
"Yuzu?"
". . . "
"Yuz, seriously, you're starting to freak me out."
"I . . . I'm freaking you out! What the hell are you talking about?"
He winced as she harshly clapped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry."
Then they were both laughing. How odd it was; their dad was a lunatic, Karin was a rude loud-mouth, while Ichigo was only polite in front of strangers and swore like a sailor when he needed to vent. All the psych classes in the world couldn't explain to her why she couldn't say something as innocuous as 'hell' or 'darn' without feeling bad about it for an hour. She laughed so hard there were tears in her eyes, and she knew it wasn't just humor and embarrassment, but stress, sadness, all kinds of negative emotions just below the surface. Sometimes being a psychologist really sucked.
Her brother had gotten up, took a bottle of water from the mini-fridge, and came to her side of the desk. She took the bottle of water as he leaned on the desk next to her chair.
"I can't tell you, Yuzu. I'm not really sure what is going on myself, but I know that I can't bring anyone else into this until I know what they'd be getting into."
"That isn't helping, Ichi-nii. You've gotten into something dangerous, haven't you?"
"Yes. More dangerous than I hope you'll ever know."
She swallowed hard. Leave it to her brother to be brutally honest while still not telling her the truth. She really only had a couple of options. They could fight about it, and he'd shut down, never giving her even this much honesty about it again. Or she could hide the worry and hurt like he did, bottle it up and try to offer acceptance hoping that all of this would end before she couldn't take it anymore. Neither option was healthy; there was no winning.
"I'm sure Dr. Fujita and I will do just fine without you. Just . . . just don't disappear on me like Karin did, Ichigo. I don't think I could handle it."
He had bent down on one knee and wrapped his arms around her.
"I won't disappear, Yuzu. I promise."
People always make promises they can't keep. No one could promise not to disappear, people die every day. And often it takes far less for them to just leave you behind, a postcard or two a year, a phone call for the New Year if you were truly lucky. She hugged back until she was under control again. She didn't want to think about it anymore. Knowing it was the wrong thing to do, she deliberately shut off her fears and her sorrow. She pulled herself up, wiped away the moisture from her eyes, and smiled.