Hiroko Shoumen sat in the second row, third seat from the end, on the far side of the room. This meant she had an excellent view of everyone who came into their chamber.
The rest of her colleagues were as punctilious as she was about their meetings. In her first few weeks, in spite of being cognizant of the gravity and seriousness of their duties, the new assemblywoman had entertained herself with little games. Small things, and entirely kept to herself. There had been a great deal of speculation prior to her joining the ranks of this august body. Curiosity was a trait she personally found disrespectful in others, but in regards to herself it was more in line with ascertaining information about what to expect from day to day.
So on the first such morning, one that began at a very early hour, Hiroko arrived twenty minutes prior to the recognized start period. There were no servants to be seen, but tea had been laid out, and she got the distinct impression that the room had been cleaned since her departure yesterday. Good to know. She appreciated cleanliness, almost as much as she valued not having seen any of the menials who performed these duties. Assuming there even was such a staff, and it was not the result of powerful spells known only to this select group. However, more noteworthy than this was the recognition that she was apparently the last person to arrive.
All Shoumen's equals were sitting quietly, almost as if they were waiting for her, and not in a benevolent fashion. Although no words were spoken, the sense that she had fractured some unspoken rule remained with her throughout the day. This did not stop the fledgling magistrate from exercising her voice and opinion throughout the proceedings. Senior members though they might be, this middle-aged seeming woman was not about to blend quietly into the shadows of their admittedly shadowy body. The fact that she was one of only three females in attendance was not lost upon her. It would not do to comport herself in an outspoken manner, but neither was it advantageous to fail to assert herself. Moderation. That was the key, one that had marked her career up until this point. She suspected it was partly due to her tireless dedication to this virtue that the offer to join their ranks had been made. And Hiroko was ready to prove the merit behind that decision.
Still, the following morning, Shoumen arrived an hour early. To her discomfort, she was once again the last person to take a seat. All right. Tomorrow we'll see about two hours. Thinking this as she lowered herself into her chair, taking care to mask any signs of advancing age, the former soldier had to wonder just how much sleep these people actually got. Their lives were shrouded in mystery, to be sure, but even they had to seek repose, yes? Over half of them looked to be on par with the Commander-General in terms of age, and she knew for a fact just how frequently he tended to doze off. In spite of this, as the years went by, though she kept a watchful eye upon everyone she had in her field of vision, never once did Hiroko catch sight of any head-bobbing, snoring, or failure to take note of items of interest. That was gratifying, in a way. It showed that the awe, the prestige afforded this council was well-placed, and she was right to be a part of it. Certainly, this sort of thing was born out mainly through their display of judgment, but still, the maintenance of appearance was not to be underestimated.
I wonder how my old squad is doing, Shoumen thought as she sat down that morning.
It had been almost four years since her last encounter with anyone from that division. Reports were easy enough to come by here, but they could only tell you so much, after all. A firsthand account was much more illuminating. And in spite of her vague mistrust in the beginning, apparently her replacement had lived up to Yamamoto's confidence in him. Very young, to be sure, but clearly powerful. Only a fool would discount that. It came as no real surprise to her when she got wind that Roshōmon had lost his position as lieutenant. What did give her some discomfort was to learn that it was the Fifth seat who had been chosen to take his place. That was something she had often sworn would not happen as long as she was head of that company. And, she thought with regret, apparently her oath had been held to a very strict interpretation.
The new captain seemed to enjoy uprooting the carefully tended garden of martial discipline she had nurtured for over sixty years. He had even gone so far as to demote poor little Sachiko from her position as Third down to Fifth, to take up the other woman's place. While it was true that Fugunushi had not been fit for anything other than paperwork since that disaster at the trials several decades back, still it had seemed undeserving to Hiroko's sensibilities to strip her of that rank. It would have no doubt been considered… cold.
Obviously the new captain did not share her way of thinking. Icy behavior came naturally to him, it would seem.
Hideaki Roshōmon was demoted three more times, and then lost his life in an engagement with the Hollows. After this, her most trusted avenue of information was cut off, and Hiroto determined that this was a sign she should no longer concentrate on such mundane affairs. While the status of the 13 Imperial Guard Squads was paramount to the continued safety of Soul Society, her own contributions were not to be belittled, now that she had ascended to a level even higher than captain. Her word carried more weight than any noble or division head. This pleased the lawmaker greatly.
Keen senses once honed to a diamond-like precision on the battlefield were now put to the test tackling some of the most distressing and harrowing issues to be faced by any ruling body. Judgments were handed out, matters of law and protocol were dissected and discussed vigorously over days and sometimes weeks of debate. There were no vacations to be had. Ever. This gathering was not some pack of paltry elected officials eager to line their own pockets at a minimum of effort. Their inclusion on this council was purely a merit-based honor. This was borne out by the sagacious wisdom affixed to every ruling like a stamp. Justice was rendered entirely at their discretion, afforded by the abundance of wisdom and knowledge they alone were privy to. While some ignorant souls might decry their decisions as harsh, even unwarranted, being so well-informed about all matters of pertinence in their society allowed Shoumen to go to bed with a clean conscience, assured of having passed down the most appropriate and meritorious sentence possible by any god or mortal.
The case of Rukia Kuchiki had consumed their efforts for over a week. Though a termination order had been given should the deserter in any way resist arrest, the final ruling had necessitated a much more thorough examination of the facts. This was done to ensure that when Lord Kuchiki did put in an appearance to champion his adopted sister's defense, there would be no recourse or avenue he might offer up that had not been sufficiently explored. They owed the head of the most powerful clan in Seireitei that much, at least.
The laws were clear, as was their duty. And they performed it. When sentence of death was laid out on his sibling, Byakuya Kuchiki did not so much as raise his head. He only waited for them to finish the official proclamation, and once that was complete, the man just said, "I understand," before taking his leave of them. That irked Hiroko slightly. It was as if he had discounted all the effort they had made to render a fair and lawful verdict. Not even so much as a 'by-your-leave'. Arrogant, she concluded from behind the judicial mask she wore now. Though they had once served together as captains, she was now free to admit to herself that she had never particularly liked Byakuya. There was always some measure of disdain in his bearing towards everyone he met, if not everything. The man observed the rules of their world with impeccable grace (after having learned his lesson from that horrific excuse for a marriage, and the shame that his wife's dying wish had bestowed upon him, at least). There was no one more dependable when it came to preserving justice.
However, his former colleague and current superior was not unmindful of certain events in the past.
Once before, this very room had been invaded, its security breached, and two criminals were freed as a result. The offender responsible for this fiasco had been the heir to the Shihoin fortune, and it was well-known their ties to the Kuchiki. And while nothing had ever been proven to implicate that most paramount house, suspicions lingered among her assembled cohorts. It almost would have been a relief for the man to have lashed out at them with bile and rancor. Or make some misguided attempt to mitigate Rukia's sentence, perhaps even going so far as to try and help her escape. Just to have those concerns finally laid to rest.
But the exact opposite was the case. Byakuya actually prevailed upon them to decrease the stay of execution, down from the regular 35 days to 25. They refused to go any lower. Then, sighting laws so ancient they had to be dredged up from the archives to be confirmed, he convinced them to have the execution method be nothing less than the Sōkyoku, something usually reserved only for captain-class offenders. Shoumen was doubly perplexed by that. As a result, Captain Kuchiki himself, along with every other division head including the Commander-General, would be forced to attend this event. Otherwise, there would have been no witnesses permitted, and Rukia Kuchiki would have died alone in a small chamber reserved for such disgraces.
Perhaps the lofty lord wanted to make certain with his own eyes that his lowborn charge was truly put out of his misery. A little disappointing, she admitted to herself at the end of the day. But it was no use dwelling upon such things. The order had been given. The girl must die. This week there was new business to discuss.
Hiroko Shoumen, one of the forty distinguished council members who composed the Central 46 Chambers, was listening to one of her fellows speaking about the matter of rezoning districts in the Southern Rukongai, when she noticed something.
She had a good seat, after all, so when someone stepped into the opening to this room, it caught her attention.
And then the intruder spoke.
"Gentlemen, ladies, forgive the intrusion. I must beg your forbearance on this morning."
Aizen Sōsuke smiled as he stepped slowly down the stairs into their presence.
What was he doing here?
"Sōsuke-taichou, what is the meaning of this?" One of the six judges spoke clearly from his seat in a recess behind her. "You have not been called upon to appear before us. It is against the law to come unbidden into our chamber."
The captain of Squad Five continued to stroll casually down the steps, looking relaxed and handsome. Whispers came from several of the other councilmen, but were quickly silenced. A quarter of the way from the bottom, he started speaking again.
"It is the law that I have come to speak to you worthy folk upon." Dressed in his white robe, hands tucked away in the sleeves, Captain Aizen now stepped down onto the same plane as them. "Once, many years ago, a young woman sat me down and spoke very passionately about our positions here in the afterlife. She argued against a ruling she felt violated our most sacred precepts. In fact, she did so with such heart, such conviction, that I found myself motivated to place my own best interests at risk. It was that moving, what she said to me."
Hiroko glanced around. None of her fellows seemed distressed by this unprecedented occurrence, but neither did they appear aware of how to respond to it. Having known Sōsuke for years, and sensing an opportunity to distinguish herself here, she leaned forward and affixed her eyes upon the young man.
"We are not amused by your behavior, Aizen-taichou. You know full well that we make no decision lightly in this room. But once it is made, there is no refuting or amending our verdict." A flash of inspiration came to her then. "If you think that your position of authority will have any effect on the fate of Rukia Kuchiki, you are blind to your own worth. It would be best if you left at once."
He stood before them. His head turned back and forth slightly, as if he were getting a feel for the room and everyone in it. The smile on his lips never faltered.
Then in one swift movement, Aizen Sōsuke drew his sword and flung it into the air.
The gleaming blade spun end-over-end, flashing in the light, before finally embedding itself point-first in the cleared space reserved for prisoners at the center of the room. It swayed back and forth gracefully, emitting a soft warbling note. Several of the assemblymen sprang up, shouting angrily. Even Hiroko found it hard to keep from coming to her feet, shock and dismay blossoming suddenly in her chest. She knew him, and more than that, she knew the rules. There were no weapons allowed in this room. To draw one carried an edict of death.
Had they just lost another captain?
A sense of cold certainty now paired with the distress.
If he knew the seriousness of what he had just done, Aizen gave no sign. He held his bare hands out to them, palms upward, like so many penitents before him.
"Now I do belong here, Shoumen-dono. I am a criminal. And criminals are judged within these halls. I am also a witness to the crime. Shall I inform you all what led up to it?"
"Aizen Sōsuke, that is enough." The eldest of their group remained in his seat, fingers steepled together. The bald head did not even deign to look in the direction of the offending party. "Clearly you are drunk. We will not call the Security Forces to take you away, nor will we seek to punish you for this fiasco. Whatever reason you might have, it will remain with you, if you see fit to leave now."
During this speech, a thought drifted into her head. The Security Forces. The specialized division assigned to their protection. They should have confiscated his weapon before he entered the building. At the very least, we should have received a notice of his approach. For some strange reason, Hiroko found herself reaching down to the empty place where her own zanpakutō had hung for so many years. Right then, she had never missed its presence more.
While this realization was being born, the brown-eyed elite soldier had made his way down to the prisoners' pit, passing with ease between the rows of venerable scholars and esteemed noblemen. Upon reaching it, he sat down without any appearance of discomfort. His back was to her, and she could see the symbol of his division clearly inked out upon the snow-white haori.
"I have found myself many times in my life believing that I know everything there is to know," Aizen said. "The number of instances where someone actually surprised me, I can count on one hand. One of them was when Byakuya Kuchiki, the twenty-eighth head of that house, married a common woman from the slums of Rukongai. Another was when he adopted a penniless shinigami outcast as his sister six years later. And a third was when that same girl came into my quarters in the middle of the night and begged me to save the life of a friend."
No one spoke or interrupted. It was as though he were putting on a performance, one of such sincerity and clear passion that they could not help but hear him out, regardless of the outcome. Even Hiroko found herself succumbing to the spell.
"She would have done anything for him. I know that. If I had demanded she strip naked and give her body up to me, to use however I might like, she would have done it. Had I called for her to bare her neck and receive the edge of my blade, her head would have been rolling across my floor within a minute. That night I saw bravery of a caliber that dwarfed anything I had ever shown on the battlefield. Whereas I spend my days holding my tongue, walking from one lie to the next, she found the courage to challenge me, this society, and her own royal family. The realization of her strength was enough to sway me into letting my own mask slip, if only for a little while. I changed plans that I had been crafting for over a hundred years that night. Because of her."
He paused to take a sip of tea. The warm nourishing aroma of it seeped into her nose. For only a second she stopped to wonder: where did he get the cup? Then the master orator was off once more.
"She spoke of worth, and in doing so, displayed her own. Her name was Rukia Kuchiki. And two weeks ago you sentenced her to death, for the crime of granting her powers to a human."
Another drink, and she could hear him smiling now. "Please understand, I'm not here asking you to revoke your decision. That wouldn't be proper, after all. I, more than anyone, know that any edict passed down by the Central Chamber of 46 can suffer no appeal. Once they have weighed all the evidence and pronounced sentence of death on someone, no matter their status or birth, that person will perish without fail, in a most stately and orderly pace. And it is only fitting that this tradition remain unbroken, for so long as this body exists."
Aizen ran a hand through his thick curly hair. "In point of fact, I am here to help you with that. One hundred years ago, a verdict was proclaimed but never carried out. Much like with poor helpless Rukia, there was no chance of an appeal. The two men involved then escaped out of this very chamber, with some help, of course. I know of it, because I testified before the hearing. And I hereby give you my word, noble sirs and madams. Before this year is out, those two fugitives will have their ancient convictions upheld. And more."
Shoumen felt a tickling at her mouth. She licked her lips surreptitiously, trying not to attract attention.
"But as for my little Rukia Kuchiki…"
Her tongue split in half.
Blood spattered her chin and down the front of her judicial robes. Something then jerked between Hiroko's teeth, causing her head to crack back against the seat.
"I regret to inform you that there can be no execution allowed on that score."
The woman gasped, swallowing blood and air. Her jaws clamped down on what could only be cold sharp steel. Shoumen's hands came up, flailing and grasping to find the attacker. They caught hold of cloth, fabric, and beneath it two arms thin and hard as branches.
"Howdy-do, Captain Shoumen."
That voice…!
Suddenly the short sword lodged between her teeth like a horse's bit pulled backwards, and she could smell, taste, and feel as it cut her mouth even wider. Hiroko screamed and screamed shrilly, pinned to her seat. She strained with all her prodigious strength to force that wakizashi out. With no success. The hands that held it did not budge even a fraction. She couldn't stand up. Couldn't escape or call out kidō, or even for help.
SOMEONE HELP US!
"I am somewhat pressed for time, good councilmen, so I cannot elaborate any further. Suffice it to say that owing to the marvelous quality of that girl's soul, it would not be imprudent to think that several other captains might share a desire to see her safe. After all, that is what we do. Save souls who are in jeopardy. Much like the gods we call ourselves. And I believe that, given the right evidence, I can bring them to question the veracity of your sentence sufficiently to have them scrambling to stop the execution."
Aizen Sōsuke remained sitting with his back to her. The other members of the Chamber regarded him with varying levels of aloof coldness and stern judgment. Their faces retained that expression of reserved superiority she had spent several years trying to emulate.
They did not react to her plight. By no indication did they even seem to notice she was being assaulted.
Tears were streaming down her face, mixing with the blood and spittle erupting from her clenched jaws.
Hiroko, what's going on? Where are you, I don't know what's happening! Find me, please, please, HE'S KILLING YOU!
The voice of her soul cutter faded, as that same lethal amused tone whispered in her ear once more.
"I dislike you a lot." He drew the sword side to side slightly like a saw, and she gagged on her own fluids. "Not too far off the mark to say that I despise you. I could tell you why, but… Nah, why bother? It isn't as though you've got time to repent or nothin'. And asking for forgiveness wouldn't work, cuz it wasn't me you offended. Still, if you wanna give it a try, I'm all ears. Are you sorry for what you did?"
He jerked the sword and her head forward, then banged it back hard. The rear of her throat was now laid open, and hot blood poured down her trachea and esophagus.
"You are? Aww, that's just so sunny! Brightens my day! There's hope for all of us, I guess."
The mutilated lawmaker's nails were digging into his skin beneath the silken fabric, but he seemed to pay it no mind. Instead her attacker began the slow, inevitable pull back towards him.
"Thank you all for listening to me this morning. I know that you are very busy, important people. But I have been waiting to address you like this for some time. Ever since I was a little boy, actually. It's been something of a dream of mine. And today, I have finally had that wish fulfilled. Thank you, all of you. You have no idea how much this means to me."
Through the terror, through the haze of blood and hate and confusion, something flashed over her vision. For just a few seconds, it was like there were two scenes in front of Hiroko's eyes. In one of them, the members of the Council were sitting peacefully, watching this inscrutable man's story play out. They were majestic, and dignified, and noble. The very picture of wise judicious sagacity. Truly, these people were gods.
And in the other it was a bloodbath. Every person off to her right, from one side of the room to the other, had been slaughtered. Throats cut, heads split open, the closest still had their hearts pumping liquid carnation all over the table. They remained sitting in their seats. Not even one of those corpses seemed to have tried to flee. Like they had been entranced while being massacred.
In that scene, Aizen Sōsuke was not sitting down on the dais. He was moving amongst the council members, casually murdering them. Between each execution, the gallant captain would stop to clean off his sword on their robes. When this was done, he moved to the next and laid them open. And he cleaned his saber again. They just sat there, staring down at the floor. Some of them would look at one another, shaking their aged heads condemningly, little realizing that death itself was approaching them on sandaled feet.
It was the coldest, most casual butchery she had ever seen.
A twist of the knife brought Hiroko back to her own predicament. Her faceless attacker clucked his tongue in an aggrieved fashion, and spoke. "Well, it's been fun, but I got a lot more work to do here. Better pick up the pace 'fore Aizen-taichou scolds me. I'm glad we could chat like this, Shoumen-taichou. It's been a real pleasure servicing you today!"
Then Gin Ichimaru drew Shinsō towards him, listening to the last scrape of her back teeth come off its blade, to be replaced by the sweet sound of bone being cut. He proceeded on through the rest while the woman's feet lashed out in every direction and her fists beat against his arms. Gin was careful not to cut his hand wrapped around the zanpakutō 's admittedly short blade, which was why the process took so very long. You had to be cautious when executing this sort of maneuver, after all.
When the top of her head came off twenty seconds later, Hiroko Shoumen had already been dead for fifteen.
Ichimaru came strolling over to where he sat cleaning off Kyōka Suigetsu. Looking up at his blood-spattered accomplice, Aizen let a hint of mild reproach come into his face.
"You're somewhat of a mess, Gin."
"Couldn't be helped, Aizen-taichou," the killer smiled happily. "Although I notice that you don't have a spot on you. Quite a feat, that."
Caramel eyes did not bother to verify the truth of that statement. "My condition is not important. From this day forth I will be living in this enclave, maybe as long as a week, with no one to see me. You, however, must make yourself presentable until such time as my research is complete. Anyone who saw you right now would be compelled to wonder just what you had been up to, my friend."
"They're always wondering that," Gin shot back. "Don't worry," and in one swift movement he peeled off his blood-stained robe and draped it over one arm, "I brought along a change of clothes. The smell might linger, but I'll get home fast 'n take a quick bath. Gotta go pick up my lieutenant for the show, after all. Want me to check on yours too?"
Aizen only smiled. "My lieutenant is right in front of me, and he seems more than capable of handling himself."
Ichimaru raised a two-fingered salute to his silver crown, that fixed smile not faltering one whit. No reason to expect any different. If he was not used to Gin's personality by now, he never would be. With this final thought, Sōsuke finished cleaning his closest confidante and returned it to its scabbard. He then stood up.
"The chamber will presently be sealed. No one will disturb me. I'll issue advances on Rukia's execution date depending on how quickly I can find the information I want. You'll have to excuse me now, I have a veritable mountain of archives to comb through. And there doesn't seem to be anyone leaping up to offer a hand in that respect."
His ally cocked a grin at that, then turned and departed, picking his way through the field of corpses littering the room.
The soon-to-be officially deceased captain of the Fifth division let his gaze wander over that grim environment. The sound of blood dripping down into pools was the only noise audible. Even the death rattles had finally come to a halt. He gazed upon the faces of several men and women he had known and served with. They had looked upon him as a friend and ally. Some of them had ruled this world for over a thousand years.
Aizen turned away.
It's the end of an era.
An era of fools. I will send you soon to act out my murder for them.
I am eager now to put on that show. This performance was thrilling. Truly a magnificent undertaking, keeping them from even recognizing their own deaths 'til it was over. I tell you, I have never felt so inspired as at this moment. You used me well.
Thank you. Yours is the praise I always value the most.
Your man could have soured it, though. He took his time killing that one woman. My art almost failed because of it.
Give Gin his pleasures. He is forced to wear a mask at all times. I know how trying that can be.
I am not as forgiving as you are when it comes to my designs. What I do is art. It does not suffer the influence of amateurs.
Fortunately, you always have me to come up with another canvas when one proves insufficient. I am honored to hold the brush that would produce such masterpieces. It pleases me to contribute to your genius, in my own small way.
Flatterer. You needn't stroke my back so. I am not a cat that craves attention. Mine is the quiet creation of splendors that must go unrecognized, lest they lose all value in the viewing.
One day I must put you away, though. For the good of all.
Yes. I am a sword before I am a brush. I know your heart. And it is just.
Aizen paused, letting his thoughts drift back to the scene of their latest creative effort together.
They called what they did justice too, you know.
They are dead. Why give their notions any more time?
I spoke the truth before. I have been waiting for this since I was a child. But sometimes I feel as if I do not even know my own heart. Not completely. I have thought long upon this, and still I can find no clear solution. The great question always looms.
You mean, 'Why'?
Yes.
THAT is the difference between us and them. They no longer questioned why. We still continue to ask. And one day, I am certain the veil will part, and the truth will reveal itself to us. When we view the world…
"…through the eyes of God," he spoke out loud.
Exactly.
"Then what are we waiting for? Let us proceed."
With that, the discoursing deity made his way into the secret chambers of the slain bureaucrats.
"Will there be anything else, Ojousama?"
Sitting before her guests, Kuchiki Rukia turned her head to address the black-clad servant. "That will be all. You may go."
He gave a crisp bow and backed out, remaining in this humbled position even when closing the door.
Returning her attention to the trio sitting seiza on the polished wooden floor, she found herself confronted by some very shocked expressions.
"Kuchiki-san," the lanky academic breathed incredulously, "You're… royalty?"
It was rather nice to see that usually stiff and hostile face worked into a semblance of earnest befuddlement. He was probably flitting back through his fabulous memory, reviewing everything he had ever said to her and finding it horribly insulting. I really should let them know that I was only adopted.
No. Don't. Let's you and I enjoy this moment.
Well, alright, if you insist.
For perhaps the first time in the last forty years, Rukia found herself pleased to be a noble.
"AH!"
This came from the person seated in the middle, a curvaceous nymph with flowing orange locks and dazzling eyes. Right now those orbs seemed even larger than usual. Had they truly been gems, their value would have doubled in the last few seconds.
"That means we're each a princess!" the girl exclaimed. "And with two princesses opposite him, even using division that means Kurosaki-kun has to be at least a prince! It's such a perfect equation that way!"
That made absolutely no sense. Good. This means she has come through this experience with her essence intact. Thank heaven for small miracles.
"I threw you."
The muscled oak tree was clenching his fists so hard they might break.
"You're like a queen, and I threw you into the air the first time we spoke." Eyes wide but otherwise showing only an impassive surface, he then asked, "Is your family going to kill me for that?"
Rukia laughed lightly, an affectionate smile lighting up her whole face.
"Actually, there's no need for anyone else to know about that incident, Yasutora-san. It can be a secret just between us."
Sitting in a hall in Kuchiki Manor, the three ryoka, Sado 'Chad' Yasutora, Orihime Inoue, and Uryū Ishida stared at their hostess and former schoolmate with newfound wonder and respect.
You should have had 'em kowtow, just a little. Glasses-boy, at the very least. I would have liked making him squirm.
That will not be necessary, thank you.
Oh, oh! Have the family guards all glare at him and make threatening gestures when nobody's looking! That'll really put the fear of death into him!
You go back to plotting, and let me speak to my friends.
What did you call them, princess?
Sode no Shirayuki's presence removed itself then, leaving her mistress feeling just a little regretful. She had almost cried when her sword had spoken to her once again earlier today, for the first time in months. At that moment, she had known that she would really be all right.
Less than a month ago, Rukia had been brought back to Soul Society a prisoner, accused of having bestowed death god powers upon a human. For this, as well as other incidents in the past, she accepted the death sentence their ruling body had eventually pronounced upon her without protest. The next few weeks had been spent in hopeless misery, wondering how her wretched existence could possibly serve to bring more shame and pain upon the people she cared about.
About halfway through the grace period before her sentence was carried out, she had received word that the Seireitei had been opposed by a quartet of intruders. At the time, the news had seemed preposterous. Who could possibly be crazy enough to challenge the captains of death, with all their war apparatuses and prodigious soul power?
The answer was, these three fools before her.
Along with one other.
I can't believe they're still alive. And, for that matter, so am I. Really gives a person something to think about.
Oh, wait. I was just getting to that.
With that, Rukia Kuchiki bowed forward until her forehead touched the ground, her purple silk kimono making not a sound.
"I would like to offer my most sincere and humble thanks for the efforts you made up 'til now. I deeply regret any injury you suffered during this escapade. As a token of my gratitude, please accept the comforts of my home during your stay in Soul Society. So long as you are here, consider yourselves the honored guests of the Kuchiki clan. If there is anything you might need, you have only to ask, and it will be provided."
The tiny noblewoman straightened up then, and her cheeks were wet with tears.
"All of you. Truly. Thank you!"
They fell over themselves apologizing to her.
"Kuchiki-hime, please don't think you need to thank us! We were only…!"
"I could get in real trouble. Are you sure you won't tell…?"
"…real purpose for being here wasn't for your sake. I had a score to settle with…"
She listened to them go on, remembering a scene much like this one, when it was just the girls sitting under a tree, arguing about boys and other unnecessary nonsense.
Unnecessary?
I was so completely wrong. I am more than a shinigami, a dead girl who sends souls to the afterlife.
I have a home.
Right now, Soul Society had never seemed more like the paradise it was always meant to be. In the span of a single day, her greatest fears had been lifted. Aizen Sōsuke had fled the Seireitei in company with his two fellow traitors, Gin Ichimaru and Kaname Tosen. The enormity of what the Fifth squad captain had done to her, his lieutenant Hinamori, and everyone else was still shocking. But even after the revelation that this seemingly gentle and worthy soul was in truth a blood-soaked sadist, what counted at this precise moment (and what she almost wanted to thank Aizen for) was that he had taken Ichimaru with him.
He's gone. Even now, as she sat in this room, the idea filled her with the most transcendent peace. That evil smiling man is not in Soul Society. No more turning a corner to find him standing there waiting for me. No more seeing him coming a mile away and wishing I could run but knowing that wouldn't happen. No more being forced to keep still and let him touch me and smile at me and talk to me like we're old friends and there's nothing wrong. Never again. If he ever shows his face in this world, he'll be hunted down and killed. He has gone rogue, and if they were willing to kill me just for giving my powers to a human, then he should surely be slain.
Were they really going to kill me?
Or was it all just another lie?
Lies. All around me.
That was the second source of her solace, to find that her oldest fear was based upon a lie.
Byakuya Kuchiki did not hate her. That eerily calm face that she had dreaded displeasing for the last few decades bore her no ill will. In fact, he had been her brother for years before they ever met, as a result of marrying a sister she never knew she had. Hisana Kuchiki. Strange to think that at one point, she had actually had a family, and not one she had needed to be invited into. Perhaps therein lay the difficulty in accepting it, the idea that she didn't have to strive or prove herself to earn that honor. Instead it was something she had possessed since birth. Rather dispiriting to learn that she had lost it just as easily, one day six years before she came to live in this house. What kind of person was my sister, she wondered? Saint? Sinner? Something in between? Rukia knew that her older sibling had abandoned her when she was an infant, but found it hard to hate the dead woman for that. She was used to hardship. Would she have been a better person, or even a happier one, if Hisana had stayed with her?
I suppose we'll never know, right?
Before her guardian spirit could respond, another voice chimed in.
"Rukia-hime!"
Looking up, she found a clearly flustered Orihime. Okay, before anything else happens, let's get one thing straight.
"Inoue-chan," Rukia spoke gently, "You needn't refer to me by 'hime'. I was 'Rukia-chan' back on Earth, and nothing has changed since then."
"But it has!" That awestruck look on the teenager's face was starting to make her feel unaccountably guilty. Mercy, will I never be able to feel comfortable in my own skin? "Everything's changed, so much has happened! You almost died, that dead man turned out to not be dead… well, actually, I suppose he is dead, just like you and everybody here, but, he was Dead… and now I suppose he's back to being just dead again. And one minute we were criminals and the next we're heroes, and I got hit in the head I don't know how many times by I don't know how many different people, and then Kurosaki-kun just beat the crap out of that beautiful brother of yours! And you're a princess!"
Well, actually, summed up like that, there had been a few changes in her life.
While she was engaged in pondering these developments, Ishida Uryū spoke up. "Kuchiki-san…" He paused when Orihime shot him a scandalized look, and Rukia found herself amused by the flustered expression the stoic archer adopted before finding his voice again. "I appreciate the offer, but accepting your hospitality might be politically indiscreet. I am a Quincy, after all, in blood if nothing else. And Soul Society has a policy regarding us. It might be for the best if I found other accommodations during my visit here."
"Actually, Ishida-san," and in that moment, the three humans felt a distinctly cold breeze emanating from their regal host, "The others are free to decline if they so choose, but in your case, I am going to have to insist that you accept my offer."
That got his attention. "I beg your pardon?"
Every inch the lady of the manor, she fixed him with the same look that Byakuya reserved for errant servants. It seemed to have some effect, which was more a testament to her acting skills than any real danger. "You are going to need all the protection you can get. I have been informed that you severely wounded Mayuri Kurotsuchi, the captain of the Twelfth division. Although he has made a complete recovery, this is not a man who forgives injuries. With the Central 46 of Soul Society obliterated and so many captains and lieutenants defected or bedridden, there is sufficient chaos in our world now that were you to disappear, it might be some time before anyone notices. And regardless of your feelings towards shinigami, or whatever lame excuse you have concocted in your head, you risked your life twice now in my defense. I will not allow you to be harmed any more than you already have."
As he was opening his mouth to respond with a clearly haughty remark, she narrowed her eyes and said, "Twenty-four hour sewing store, indeed!"
Judging by the slight flush that crept into his cheeks, it was clear this last remark had done its work. The other two were looking at them both with bemused expressions, but it seemed that the archer had conceded.
"Very well, Kuchiki Rukia." He stood up then, and bowed slightly. "I'll accept your invitation, in the interests of discharging any obligation you might feel towards me. I will not have it be said that a Quincy spurned a sincere offer, on its face." She chose to ignore that last bit. "That being said, I'm somewhat exhausted from today's debacle. If it's all the same to your Ladyship, I would like to rest now."
"Of course." Reaching up, Rukia touched the pearl and ivory necklace at her throat. It warmed slightly, and at this signal, the doors slid open to reveal servants dressed in Kuchiki livery, three apiece for each of her guests. "These will be your retainers for your time here. Your comfort is their duty. Speak to them if you have any questions or needs, or if you would like to call upon me. They will inform me of the request, and I will attend to you immediately. You are now the honored guests of the Noble House of Kuchiki. Please take full advantage of any benefits my home may have to afford."
Orihime gaped at this display, while Chad did his best impersonation of a living statue. Uryū only bowed to her again, and then proceeded to stride from the room, followed now by his trio of attendants. As he left, her redheaded houseguest popped up, bouncing slightly as she did. "Ah, I think I'll go check in on Kurosaki-kun, make sure he's doing all right! Is it alright if I leave, Kuchiki-hi…oj…sa…cha…"
In contrast to the Quincy's performance, this display brought a smile to her face. "You are free to come and go as you wish, Orihime-chan. I've asked our chef to be at your beck and call in terms of the dishes you prefer. I hope you don't tax his creativity too much."
"Oh…thank you!" The lovely damsel beamed joyously. Almost immediately after, though, a visible pall settled over her. "Um… would you like… I mean, that is to say… Kurosaki-kun… shall I tell him…?"
"I will be by to see Ichigo again later today. With my brother incapacitated, I have to see to the upkeep of his holdings. Rest assured, I will take the time to express my gratitude to our new war hero."
It was hard to properly classify the look on Orihime's face now, but she seemed well enough while she took her leave. As the party trailed away, Rukia heard her guest already beginning to question the servants. "Excuse me, but have any of you seen our other friend? He came with us, has four legs and talks like my grandfather used to. Do you think you could help me find him? Oh! And his name's Yo…" Her voice diminished out of earshot then.
Yes, even in the land of the dead, Orihime Inoue remained the same cheerful outer-space invader as back home.
This left only her and Yasutora. The giant gazed at her with that solemn air he managed to possess, as if he were afraid even by looking at someone too intently he might hurt them. Actually, considering his strength, it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility.
"Are you really all right?" he asked.
The immediate response of 'yes' died halfway to her lips, cut off by the earnest compassion in that low, rumbling voice. It made her consider the question more seriously.
"That remains to be seen," Kuchiki spoke softly. "But right now, I suppose I'm better off than at any time for the last hundred and fifty years. It will have to do. Thank you for your concern, Sado-san."
He nodded, and clambered slowly to his feet. Moving to the door, Chad stopped and looked back at her over his shoulder.
"I'm glad you're safe now."
Before he could see the shock this casual comment brought up in her, he was lumbering away with the servants trailing in his prodigious shadow.
Rukia was left alone.
She turned and looked through the open doors that led outside. The day was already half over. Her brother and Ichigo had been sequestered in the Fourth's emergency medical ward for several hours now. Every remaining captain and lieutenant capable of walking, including Renji, had been called away by the Commander-General, ostensibly to discuss wartime preparations, but she suspected this was primarily to get their stories straight for disseminating the news of the three captains' defection to the public. Normally this would be a duty handled by the offices of the 46. But nowadays, that group might as well be called Chamber 0, if what Isane Kotetsu had told her was true. So they were all dead, were they? That's…
Good.
You shouldn't even think that.
What are they going to do? Come back to life and censure me? I can think whatever I want, it's not like I had anything to do with their deaths. Aizen Sōsuke did me two favors unknowingly today.
They were dead for long before now, remember? How can you even know it was them who gave your execution order and not Aizen?
Byakuya spoke to them directly, remember?
What if he was just hypnotized to think that?
Enough. No point talking it over now, unless you want me to go to Hueco Mundo and ask Aizen directly. Even if you could materialize, that would still be another death sentence, and I have had quite enough of those for one lifetime.
So what are you going to do? Sit here and gloat over all your enemies being brought low?
No. I'm going to do what the Kuchiki have been training me to do for half a century. I'm going to rule this house until Nii-sama recovers.
Are you… going to see him today?
Rukia hesitated. Her eyes stayed rooted to the rich tableau spreading off to the edges of the high-walled estate, fingers twisting slightly in her lap. Was it the thought of going to visit her elder brother, or Byakuya Kuchiki? Just what was he to her now? For all the years she had known him, that silent figure had been like a sword gently pricking her spine while she walked over a bottomless abyss on a tightrope that went on forever. It was maddening to think that she had been incorrect in this assumption for so long. Had he actually been protecting her this whole time, in his own strange way? The result of an oath sworn to his dying love? What had he really been thinking every time he looked at her for the past fifty years?
Does he care about me?
Lord Kuchiki watched me as I was about to be executed, but my Nii-sama pulled me out of a madman's grip and saved me from Ichimaru's sword.
Captain Kuchiki hunted me down and locked me in a cell, while my Nii-sama stepped into the academy where I was floundering and brought me into his home.
Byakuya Kuchiki turned his back on me and commanded that I be lied to, and my Nii-sama took my hand and begged me to forgive him for all that.
So what does that make us? Are we a family? Is such a thing really supposed to be this messed up, confusing, and potentially fatal? Come to think of it, what sort of experience do I have with a home life?
Well, let's find an example. How about, oh, say, the Kurosaki family? There's a deviant sneak-attacking-up-the-skirt father, two girls as different as night and day, a scowling surly impolite orange-headed invitation to a fight, and a living doll/pet who is the first person to openly express sexual interest in me in quite a while. I wonder what Nii-sama would have to say about inter-species carnal relations?
Cat.
What?
Cat!
What are you…?
As she thought this, something landed in Rukia's lap.
Surprised, the girl looked down to find a black tabby gazing up at her, flicking its tail from side to side. It meowed.
She stared.
"Where did you come from?"
The way it was looking at her, she almost expected it to open its mouth and answer. Instead the small feline closed its eyes and twisted its head around, as if demanding that she give it some attention. Cautiously, as if this might prove to be another of Sōsuke's illusions, she reached out and scratched under its chin. Seemed to be real enough. The cat nuzzled against her hand then in a most insistent manner, and without further ado, she began to stroke along its sleek back. Her new friend curled up in her lap and proceeded to purr.
For about a minute Rukia just sat there, petting this inexplicable intruder. What was a cat doing on the grounds? The servants were under strict orders not to allow any such animals from running around. She had never seen one in all her time living here. These thoughts now supplanted the taxing preoccupations that had troubled her previously. Along with this there was a sense of déjà vu. A memory came back to her then, of her first visit to the mortal world and the strange people she had met there. Kisuke Urahara had owned a black cat much like this one that had taken to her while she stayed with him. Of course, that was over thirty years ago, that feline must be long dead by now. Briefly, the idea occurred to her that this must be its ghost. They were in the land of the dead, after all. But really, that was just silly. What were the chances that the same kitty would seek her out in this whole vast dimension? It was completely impossible.
"Impossible, right, little one? You couldn't be the same."
Yellow orbs trained on her for a moment. It turned its head and licked her hand then, the dry sandpaper tongue causing her skin to tingle.
Really, this is just too bizarre. But somehow soothing, all the same.
"Have you come to steal fish from our pantry? I have to see to my duties now, small thief. My brother is away, so I suppose in his absence I can make an exception to the rule. If you promise to catch any vermin you might come across, you have free run of the manor until he returns. As the current Lady of Kuchiki, I will make it so. Does that sound fine to you?"
The cat, a female, rubbed its head against her knee before vaulting off. It prowled around her, and gave another meow. Rukia stood up, and with her new servant at her side, she strode from the room. Waiting outside were several of the high-ranking household staff, including the aged majordomo.
"Lady Kuchiki. We await upon your pleasure," he said, and they all knelt and touched their heads to the floor.
For only a minute, looking at them, the thought came to her: these people all lied to me. They treated me well, but nonetheless, they are not to be trusted. Not completely. Devotion of that magnitude can easily be turned against one. It would not be wise to leave anything to chance here.
You remind me of Byakuya.
A harsh reprimand would have followed this comment before today. But now, Rukia only offered her formless sword a potent silence.
I am his sister, whatever our relationship proves to be. I will do this house the courtesy that it has done me.
I am Rukia Kuchiki, and I am going to put that name to good use.
His head was buzzing. There was a distinct flush to his cheeks, and he found it hard to stay on his feet.
This is a lot like being drunk, Abarai Renji reflected.
He then concentrated very hard on not fainting, trying not to sweat so obviously, and paying close attention to what was being said.
"Our enemy is not to be underestimated. Whether in thought or deed, we will offer him no unwarranted advantage. The correct application of our remaining military strength shall be done to see that this temporary indiscretion does not grow into something worse. More than the very order of our world, this bears directly on our pride as shinigami. Indeed, the two are indistinguishable. Towards that end, we shall engage in the following operations."
It was Captain-Commander Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni talking. The mightiest combatant in all the afterlife. Ancient battle-scarred victor of a thousand campaigns. The unvanquished (if not invincible) ultimate warrior, with the power to wipe out a legion of Hollows with the merest flicker of his power!
I have never met a more long-winded person in all my life. Do you think…
…he talked all his enemies to death?
Are you two trying to get me killed?
Right now, Renji was in no position to withstand a challenge from a regular shinigami, much less the original founder of their order. Despite some life-saving measures administered to him in the last few hours, he had still come very close to death twice today. This, combined with the debilitating training he had endured to bridge the final gap between himself and ban-kai, was serving to leave him in a condition that usually only resulted after a night of heroically hard drinking. But the lieutenant of the Sixth was determined to attend this meeting. His captain was in even worse condition than himself. I owe it to him, as his subordinate, to represent our squad in this important conference. Because he is my commander. And also because…
"To all residents of Soul Society, this news will go out. We have suffered the loss of three division heads due to the interference of the Hollow Nation, but otherwise our security remains undisturbed. In addition…"
He saved her.
Rukia was alive today in no small part to that same cold, heartless man who had taken her away from him in the first place. Now, truth be told, the real hero of this affair was that implausible ignorant mortal, Kurosaki Ichigo. More than anyone (even myself, I hate to admit), that loudmouthed punk stepped up and delivered the goods. He risked his own ass by kicking those belonging to some very powerful and dangerous people (including my own, I really hate to admit!), and in doing so, he actually managed to get those deluded bastards to look past their rulebooks and inflated egos and see the threat that was racing towards them.
At this thought, Abarai looked around the room.
"… all divisions are roused on full alert and confined to the Seireitei until otherwise notified. Resident shinigami on duty in the world of the living are to remain at their posts. We will inform them of the basic truth to this matter, enough to insure that Aizen cannot come upon them completely unawares. Besides which…"
They were in the First division's audience chamber. All remaining taichou and fukutaichou in the Court of Pure Souls were sitting in this high-vaulted cathedral. It was a pretty bleak turnout, actually. Only half of the usual faces were to be seen, and none of them seemed to be at their best. Only the Fourth, Eleventh, Twelfth, First, Second, Eighth, and Seventh divisions were fully represented. Mayuri Kurotsuchi had come in without makeup or headgear, complaining of the hasty call to arms and at not being recognized by the guards out front. Not their fault, really, the guy almost looked human now. Nanao Ise seemed as pale and fragile as Captain Ukitake, and her own captain constantly hovered close by, his usual flirtatious manner now replaced with some rather serious concern. Kyōraku Shunsui had been noticeably silent throughout this conclave.
"…the inner enclave of the Central Chamber of 46, including the Royal Archives, will be opened for examination to determine just what precisely that man might have learned while he was convalescing in there this past week. The Thirteenth division, under Captain Ukitake's personal supervision, will conduct this inquiry. Cleanup and transfer of the bodies…"
The Kenpachi looked as menacing as ever. Fidgeting at the murderous mountain's side, little Yachiru Kusajishi turned her head and waved enthusiastically at Renji, a gesture he quickly returned in a less obvious manner. She pouted, and proceeded to make a face that plainly said, 'More energy next time, dope!' He then went back to not staring at the other giant in the room. The one nearly everybody was trying to avoid looking at for too long. That would be Saijin Komamura, now relieved of his concealing headgear and revealed to possess a head that, while quite majestic and imposing, clearly belonged to a dog of some kind. His lieutenant, another veteran of the Eleventh just like Abarai, was as cool and collected as ever. Maybe. I mean, Tetsuzaemon Iba was still sporting his own trademark headgear, eyes concealed behind some pretty awesome-looking shades, he had to admit. But in terms of sheer menace, nothing could quite compare to the look contained in the narrowed black eyes of Soifon. More than ever, that one looked ready to slit the throat of anyone who came too close to her. Her overweight vice-captain, whose name Renji could not remember, was keeping very still and very quiet. Smarter than he looks, that one.
"…will be undertaken by the first component of Squad Four, with Unohana-taichou supervising. Other than that, no other personnel will be allowed to enter those halls. Thirdly, concerning the disposition of the former ryoka…"
From the three renegade captains' squads, there was no one. Hisagi Shūhei had been reduced to a wet rag, one completely wrung out of spiritual power. How and why this had happened, he refused to go into. As for Izuru Kira of the Third, prospective reports had him listed as dazed and confused but able to eat solid foods in another day or two. The reason for his condition was seated to Renji's front and right, in the form of Rangiku Matsumoto. That lovely lady's own captain was sharing a hospital ward with another of his old classmates.
"…they are not to be molested in any way. Regardless of any infraction of the law prior to this date on their part, we will leave such matters to be addressed at a more appropriate time. For now, they are to be afforded our respect and consideration as proven allies. In this matter, I will suffer no disobedience. Captain Kurotsuchi, this pertains directly to you. The Quincy boy is no concern of yours. That matter is settled…"
Momo Hinamori of the Fifth was still in critical condition. It set his teeth on edge to think of just how she had come to be in that state. Had he not seen it with his own eyes, the back-alley bruiser would never have believed that Aizen Sōsuke would actually turn traitor. Gin Ichimaru, no sweat, and Kaname Tosen, well, you wouldn't have to break my thumbs to convince me of that. But AIZEN? The guy was like a god among men! He watched my back for years! He saved my life! Hell, he saved Momo's life! And I'm supposed to believe that it was all an act? That he was running some vast con game the whole time, designed solely to perpetrate the theft of some old-fashioned doohickey nobody even knew existed? That's nuts, it doesn't make any sense!
Unfortunately, the proof of this nightmare was lying in a hospital bed with a device from the Twelfth division being the only thing keeping her breathing. This along with the new scars he would have to boast courtesy of Kyōka Suigetsu's blade had acted to cure Renji very fast of any delusions he might ever have harbored towards the character and nature of Aizen Sōsuke. Next time they met, he would not hesitate or even bother asking why. I'll just kill the bastard, end of story.
"…and finally, the Mobile Corps will be dispatched to interview all members of those divisions currently confined to their grounds. Until such time as their loyalty has been confirmed, the Fifth, Third, and Ninth are effectively disabled. All missions are curtailed and will be transferred to other squads based upon…"
Actually, this whole meeting strikes me as being pretty dumb, Renji thought absently. If Aizen were to pop back into this room with a bunch of super-badass Hollows (that I know for a fact exist), he could probably wipe out all the remaining leaders of the divisions. Whose idea was it to get everybody in one place like this, anyway? It gives me a headache just thinking about it!
His debilitated state took that moment to rise up on him. Renji swayed groggily from his position towards the back of the room. As if sensing his distress, the healer-goddess who headed the Fourth looked over at him, a benevolent smile on her face.
It made him suddenly think of the first time he had ever been in this room.
"I hereby confer, in the presence of all the captains of the various divisions of Seireitei, the rank of vice-captain upon Abarai Renji of the Sixth Division. We welcome you into the highest ranks our military has to offer, Lieutenant Abarai."
The lieutenant of the First division, whose name escaped him at the moment, then proffered the scroll to him. Renji accepted it with a heady mix of triumph and paranoia. In spite of everything he had done to earn this, there was still the sensation that it all might be stripped away from him at any given moment. The only way to cement his achievements was to proceed one step higher than this, and attain that long dreamt-of captaincy. It was only a little ways off, now.
Aged Yamamoto tapped his cane firmly on the floor from his seat before them all. His menacing growl then proceeded with the official investing ceremony. "All captains, advance and honor our latest officer with your words."
This was certainly quite a treat. Despite having fought under several different captains throughout his career, the former alley-dweller had actually only directly met five of them. These were Captain Aizen, the now-Captain Ichimaru, Captain Ukitake, Captain Kurotsuchi, and his own Captain Kuchiki. To be introduced in person one after another to the greatest fighters in all the Gotei 13 would give him the chance to see what exactly he was up against.
All I need is for one of the people in this room to retire or kick the bucket. I wonder which it will be? As these admittedly laughable and potentially treasonous thoughts were rolling around in his head, the first star in line stepped forward.
Captain of the Thirteenth division, Jūshirō Ukitake.
"Congratulations, Abarai-san. I know Rukia will be overjoyed to hear of this."
"Thank you, Taichou. I'm looking forward to telling her myself."
Captain of the Twelfth division, Mayuri Kurotsuchi.
"Don't disappoint. You'll have to work doubly hard now to prove to us that you're of good stock!"
"Thank you, Taichou. I'll… do my best."
Captain of the Eleventh division, Zaraki Kenpachi.
"You remember what my boys taught you, grunt."
"'We never surrender'. Thank you, Taichou."
So it went, until finally there stepped before him the first man he had ever truly admired.
Captain of the Fifth division, Aizen Sōsuke.
"Abarai-san, you've proven yourself without a doubt. The office is honored by you more than you by it."
"Thank you, Taichou. Part of that is due to you. I'll do us both proud."
Captain of the Fourth division, Unohana Retsu.
"Good work, Abarai-fukutaichou."
"Thank you, Ta…Ta…Tah…Ha-Han…Hana-chan…!"
After a few seconds of tongue-tied bafflement in which Captain Kuchiki wondered to himself if he had made some kind of mistake with this man, the gracious lady covered her face with a sleeve to hide a small smile and moved away.
Please. Don't let anybody notice.
Captain of the Third division, Gin Ichimaru.
"Oi, Renji-kun. Is that your zanpakutō in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"
I…hate…
Thoughts of the past were blending in and out of his perceptions of this moment. Trying to correlate that smiling brown-haired sophisticate with the remorseless creature he had met on Sokyōku Hill caused Renji to feel like he might be sick at any moment. I almost died there, right beside Rukia. I tried to reach her, but it was Byakuya Kuchiki who saved her. I don't think I ever hated him more than at that moment. But in addition, I finally saw something decent in that man. And that realization makes me want to beat him all the more.
To clear his head, the spiky-headed soldier played a game in which he divided up the people in this room according to one very specific principle. That being, which of them was present at Rukia's almost-execution, and which of them did nothing to stop it.
He wasn't going to forget that scene anytime soon.
"… my consideration. Bear in mind, we are on highest alert until our reconnaissance teams can offer us a better insight as to the nature of Aizen's forces. The site of the disaster and its contents, including all remnants of the Sokyōku halberd, are off limits to any below the level of captain. You all have your duties to carry out. Now go and do so! The faith that has been placed in us cannot be allowed to waver for a moment! Return to your posts, and do them proud!"
"YES, SOTAICHOU!" they all chorused obediently, and bowed.
"Dismissed!" the old man thundered.
As the gray-bearded superman rose to depart, Renji allowed his eyes to lift slightly from the floor. He watched Captain Yamamoto as he left the room.
It wasn't just Aizen or Byakuya I wanted to kill that day.
I got real good hearing, old man. I know what you said about me, and if Ichigo hadn't rescued her, I would've shown you who was 'replaceable'.
I'm watching you. You think nobody's judging you? You're just damn lucky I wasn't a real traitor. I'd have wiped you all out by now.
"Abarai-san? Everything all right?"
Renji looked into the deep midnight shades of his fellow lieutenant Iba, and proceeded to flip down his own custom eyewear.
"Yeah. 'Scuze me, somewhere I gotta be."
There was something he had to see for himself.
To be continued...