Author's Note: Finished this chapter early as a holiday gift to you all and a way of celebrating the end of finals :D
Not quite as funny as last chapter—I honestly have no idea where all these feels and flashbacks came from and there's literally 2000 words of me rambling on about my headcanon for kido, but I hope you enjoy it anyway :)
The first sign that something was wrong was the fact that Iemura met me at the doors of the Fourth Division, looking frazzled, exhausted, and completely wrung out. There was a faintly manic gleam in his eyes as he looked at me, glasses slightly askew.
The second sign that something was wrong was the fact that for the first time ever, he actually looked happy to see me.
"Yukimura. You're good with kids, right?" He demanded before I had a chance to talk. "And better yet, you have absolutely no problem talking back to people who far outrank you."
I blinked. "Uh-" I said, taken aback. He ignored me.
"Good. Now listen carefully, because this is an order. If you run across any demon children during your shift today, you are to do everything in your power to get her away from this place. I don't care what you have to do, just get her out of my hair." Before I had a chance to ask further questions, he stormed away in the general direction of the barracks.
Feeling slightly nervous now, I took a deep breath before opening the doors to the Fourth Division headquarters. I made it past the front lobby before stopping dead, taking in the scene of complete and utter chaos before me. Overturned tables and chairs, a couple holes in the walls, the sound of sobbing as several Fourth Division members underwent simultaneous mental breakdowns…
"Tsukuda-san," I said faintly, turning to the nurse who seemed to be doing her best to ignore everything going on around her. Absently, I wondered if I had maybe made something of a mistake accepting this internship. Isane and Hanataro never had to deal with shit like this. "What the hell happened?"
Somewhere in the distance, there was a deafening crash. Someone screamed.
"Ah—there was a fight at the Eleventh Division today," Tsukuda said meekly, not meeting my eyes.
"And?" I asked, not understanding. Fights at the Eleventh Division were nothing new; saying that a fight broke out there was like saying 'the sky is blue today' or 'Yoruichi is fast.'
"Um…Zaraki-taicho got involved. And, he got in a disagreement with Muguruma-taicho. They're both being treated right now," Tsukuda continued nervously.
"What does that have to do with…this?" I motioned towards the scene of destruction around us.
"Uh…you see-" Before she could answer, a pink blur burst through one of the few remaining undamaged walls (through a wall, my mind repeated in disbelief). Next to me, Tsukuda let out a squeak, something that sounded like "Sorrysomethingcameupgottago" and flash-stepped away before I could do anything more than blink. That wasn't a good sign.
Closer inspection revealed that the pink blur was actually a giggling pink-haired child, who appeared to be having the time of her life. She skidded to a stop in front of me, tilting her head to the side curiously. A quick glance to the lieutenant badge on her arm confirmed her identity. Well, that explained a lot of things.
"Hey! Who're you?" She asked, bouncing up and down on the soles of her feet.
"I'm Yukimura Hisana," I said, bending down so that I was at face level with her. "What's your name?"
"I'm Kusajishi Yachiru, lieutenant of Squad 11!" She announced cheerfully.
"Nice to meet you, Yachiru-chan," I said, smiling slightly. She kind of reminded me of a younger-Rukia on a sugar rush. "You looked like you were having a lot of fun just now. Were you playing a game?"
"Uh-huh! I was playin' tag! It's my favorite. I think I lost them though," Yachiru pouted briefly. "They're so slooow. At least Frilly-brows and Baldy can run, even if they can't catch me."
"How come you don't play with them, then?" I asked curiously.
"'Cause they're at home. And welllll….Ret-chan told me ta go back 'cause Ken-chan is hurt and has ta stay here right now, but I didn't wanna leave, ya know? So I got some people here ta play with me!"
"Because you go wherever Zaraki-taicho goes, right?" I murmured. She grinned up at me.
"'xactly!" A speculative gleam entered her eyes. "Hey, hey! Ya wanna join? I promise, it's lotsa fun!"
"I bet," I laughed. "Tag is one of my favorite games too. But right now, I'm feeling kind of hungry, so I was hoping to go bake some cookies. You're welcome to come, if you want." Iemura had better thank me for this.
"You're making cookies?" Yachiru asked, eyes shining. Glad to see that my knowledge about her obsession with food wasn't wrong.
"Mmm-hmm. Raspberry and apricot and chocolate ones," I confirmed. A hint of nostalgia entered my voice. "I used to bake a lot with my little sister, but…well, I haven't gotten the chance to in a long time."
"How come?" Yachiru asked, eyes wide.
"Well, she lives pretty far away, you know? In the 78th District. She'll be coming here in a few months but until then, I could use some company, if you're up for it," I said, smiling warmly. "Have you baked cookies before, Yachiru-chan?"
She shook her head. "Nuh-uh. Is it fun?"
"You bet. Especially because you get to eat them at the end." Leaning in, I winked conspiratorially at her. "I'll let you in on a secret. Food always tastes better when you're the one making it." I offered her my hand. "So what do you say—you wanna help me out?"
There was a moment where Yachiru stared at my hand almost suspiciously, like she wasn't sure if I was being sincere or making fun of her. The next instant, I felt a small hand grabbing my own. "Okay, Hisa-chan. But after, ya gotta promise ta come play with me, yeah?"
"It's a deal," I confirmed, squeezing her hand lightly.
"Hey, don't eat that, or we won't have enough for later!" I scolded from where I was letting the raspberry jam simmer, catching Yachiru trying to sneak a bite of cookie dough for the umpteenth time. "Don't you want to make cookies?"
"But it's reaaaaally good!" She whined, pouting. I hid my smile behind one hand—she really was very cute. "Can't I have just a little bit more, Hisa-chan? Just thiiiis much." She demonstrated by holding her thumb and forefinger about a centimeter apart before staring up at me with beseeching eyes.
Tough luck. Raising Rukia had made me immune to any and all forms of puppy-dog eyes.
"Tell you what. We're just about done with the jam anyway; how would you like to help me cut the dough into shapes?" I asked.
"We can do that?" Yachiru sounded thrilled.
"Of course." Taking a rolling pin, I proceeded to flatten the dough into a sheet. Taking a knife, I asked her, "What shape would you like me to cut out?"
Yachiru thought about that for a moment. "Can we make a Ken-chan shaped cookie?" She asked excitedly.
I barely resisted the urge to sigh. Girl certainly didn't start small. Still—
"I've never actually met Zaraki-taicho, so I'm going to need you to describe him for me," I admitted. "Could you tell me what he looks like, Yachiru-chan?"
Yachiru brightened up. "Sure! Okay, first he's really tall, which is good 'cause I can always see a lot when I'm hangin' onto his back. So ya gotta make sure to make him a really big cookie, bigger than all the others. And he has spiky hair, like a porcupine! And also he has an eyepatch and he wears his captain's coat all the time and he always carries his sword around-" She babbled, waving her arms around for emphasis.
I let Yachiru's voice wash over me as I cut out the general shape of the cookie. A layer of dark chocolate sauce was used to color his hair and make him an eyepatch and a shihakusho. Another tiny drop of chocolate was used to make his eye. Splotches of raspberry jam were used to create 'blood', since Yachiru insisted that he was never happier than he was during a fight where his opponents were strong enough to actually cut him. As I didn't have a blender, I had Yachiru smash up some white sugar crystals to make powdered sugar, which was then used to make a 'haori.' Several minutes later, we had a pretty decent cookie approximation of the Eleventh Division captain. Yachiru was elated.
"Hisa-chan, look! He looks just like Ken-chan!" She exclaimed, peering down at it from her position on the table and clapping her hands together in delight. Tugging at my sleeve, she added, "Can we make me too? And Frilly-brows and Baldy? Can we? Can we?"
"Why not," I smiled. "After all, I don't think that Zaraki-taicho would be Zaraki-taicho if he didn't have you there with him. And we can't leave your friends out either. Come on—let's get started, shall we?"
Two hours later, we not only had various Zaraki-cookies, Yachiru-cookies, Madarame-cookies and Ayasegawa-cookies, but we also had a multitude of hollow-cookies for them to fight. Halfway through the making of the second hollow-cookie, Yachiru had joined me in cutting them out and decorating them. Given the fact that we only had orange, red, dark brown and white colors to work with, I was kind of impressed by the sheer variety we managed. Even more so if you considered the fact that each and every hollow we came up with was probably based on an actual memory.
"And what about that one?" I asked as we waited for the cookies to cool, pointing towards a multi-eyed hollow with rather intense looking horns. Yachiru had put an impressive amount of detail into that one, and I was curious about the story behind it. She beamed, a proud smile lighting up her features.
"That was my first hollow! It was a lotta fun to fight," Yachiru said happily. "It was pretty tough. Ken-chan wanted to fight it, but he let me have it 'cause my 'first fight should be a good one,'" she recited, before turning to me. "What about you, Hisa-chan? What was your first fight like?"
Well, the first time I'd stood my ground against a hollow (mainly because I'd been in no shape to run away) was actually...four months after I'd arrived in Inuzuri, before I'd met Tatsuya and the others.
"When I was ten, I was cooking dinner for myself and my sister in the woods when a hollow came out of nowhere. I didn't have a sword, but I did have a fire going, so I grabbed a flaming branch and threw it into the hole in the hollow's chest. He didn't survive," I said distantly, thinking back. Really, I'd been incredibly lucky that it had been such a low level one.
"That's…so cool," Yachiru said with widened eyes, something like admiration passing through them for the first time. "Wait til I tell Ken-chan! He keeps sayin' that the Fourth is made up of a buncha wimps 'cause ya never kill nuthin'."
"Never kill anything," I corrected, trying to ignore the fact that I was having a conversation about killing with someone who physically and mentally resembled a four year old. "And it's true that generally, the Fourth doesn't go out and kill hollows. But Yachiru-chan, that doesn't make us weak. It's all about what's important to you. People join the Eleventh because they value fighting, the glory of battle. I joined the Fourth because what's most important to me is making sure that the idiots I care about can get up and keep on fighting. However, if some jerk tries to push me around, the fact that I'm a medic first and foremost doesn't change the fact that I'll punch them in the face. Does that make sense?" When Yachiru nodded, looking uncharacteristically thoughtful, I smiled and handed her a cookie. "They should be cool enough now. Here—you deserve it."
In retrospect, I may have underestimated the power of Kusajishi Yachiru on a sugar rush. If I thought she was fast before, she was practically bouncing off the walls at light speed now. Iemura-senpai was going to kill me.
On the bright side, after she'd eaten about a dozen and a half cookies, I'd managed to get her to slow down by telling her that if she kept this up, she wouldn't be able to show Zaraki-taicho her handiwork. On the down side, she took this to mean that she needed to show them to Zaraki-taicho right this instant which normally wouldn't be too bad, except for fact that she'd decided to take me with her.
Which, well. I mean, I was flattered that she seemed to consider me a new friend of hers—she wouldn't have insisted on introducing me to her captain otherwise. But if I knew that meeting Kusajishi Yachiru would lead to me meeting Zaraki freakin' Kenpachi not three hours later, I'd have stayed home in bed today.
To make matters worse, she was dragging me through the halls at dizzying speed (at least she wasn't running through walls anymore), completely unconcerned by the fact that I was probably at least twice her body weight.
"Ken-chan!" She exclaimed, slamming open a door and coming to a stop so suddenly I almost fell over. I leaned heavily on the doorway, trying to catch my breath. The fact that the air felt heavy with reiatsu really wasn't helping. Jesus Christ, if that was him with his reiatsu heavily suppressed, what did it feel like when he didn't have his eyepatch on? I didn't even want to contemplate it.
"Yukimura-san." Unohana's bemused voice caused me to wince as I suddenly felt self-conscious of the fact that for all intents and purposes, I was standing in front of my boss with flour in my hair, jam on my hands, and crumbs on my uniform and that I'd just spent the last few hours baking cookies instead of working. "What are you doing here?"
"Ah. Unohana-taicho, Zaraki-taicho." Well, when in doubt, resort back to basic manners. "Would you like a cookie?" I asked lamely, voice only slightly higher than normal. Reaching into the basket I was carrying, I randomly selected a cookie and pulled it out.
"Is that shaped like a hollow?" Unohana asked, sounding delighted. She reached out and gently took it from me, turning it over and inspecting it with the air of an art connoisseur. "This is nicely made. I like that you even cut out a little hollow hole, and the use of powdered sugar to make the mask is ingenious."
"Right?" Yachiru puffed up proudly. "That's not even the best one though. Here, I saved this one for you." She held up one of the better Zaraki-cookies directly in front of the real Zaraki's face. "Look what Hisa-chan helped me make! See, it looks just like you!"
For a long moment, Zaraki didn't say anything, gaze intent upon his cookie counterpart. Yachiru's expression turned worried. "Do you like it?" She asked, a trace of uncertainty in her voice…and no matter how powerful and fast she may have been, in that moment she looked like any other child looking to their parent for approval.
"Yachiru-chan worked very hard on that, Zaraki-taicho," I spoke up quietly, refusing to flinch when olive-green eyes turned towards me. "I'm sure we can all agree that it's a very nice cookie, don't you?"
Zaraki stared at me for a moment longer before huffing. Rolling his eyes, he turned back to Yachiru. "Oi, stop lookin' at me like that, ya dumb brat. Of course it's good. You helped make it, didn't ya?" With that, he promptly took a bite out of it. "Tastes alright too."
I relaxed at his answer, ignoring the amused look Unohana sent my way. Yachiru lit up like the sun, all signs of doubt leaving her face as she grabbed the basket from me and began showing him the various hollow cookies, as well as the ones of 'Frilly-brows' and 'Baldy'.
Meanwhile, I took the opportunity to start concocting escape plans. Eying the door, I wondered what my chances were of reaching it without anyone noticing. Deciding to test the waters, I waited until both Unohana and Zaraki were looking at Yachiru before beginning to inch my way there. I made it all of two centimeters before Yachiru lunged forward and grabbed my wrist. The next thing I knew, I found myself pulled directly in front of the Eleventh Division captain. My heart promptly started beating double-time.
"Ken-chan, this is Hisa-chan. She's from the Rukongai, too! 78th District," Yachiru stated excitedly. "Didja know that she once set a hollow on fire for interruptin' her dinner? When she was only ten years old!"
"It's less impressive than it sounds," I said, shifting awkwardly as his eyes turned towards me. "It was just a single hollow and it wasn't expecting me to fight back. I got lucky."
"Hmph. Not too bad for a brat though," Zaraki grunted. "Woulda expected a pipsqueak like ya to run." My eye twitched faintly before I reminded myself that given how tall Zaraki was (Yachiru certainly hadn't been exaggerating), he probably saw everyone as 'pipsqueaks.'
"Wasn't in any shape to outrun it, really," I said, shrugging with forced nonchalance. "So my only choices were to do something, or die." One side of my lips quirked up. "I chose to live." And really, with Rukia depending on me to protect her, dying had never been an option.
"Huh. A Fourth Division member with some balls. Never thought I'd see the day," Zaraki snorted, shaking his head before turning to Unohana. "Oi, woman, I can leave now right? I toldja, I'm fine—a coupla bruised ribs ain't anythin' ta stay in bed for."
"You are free to go, Zaraki-taicho," Unohana said, sounding faintly exasperated. "I would tell you to spend the rest of the day resting and recovering, but I suspect that it would be a futile effort."
"Damn straight," Zaraki grunted. "Ain't nobody got time for pansy shit like that." He glanced towards the pink-haired child sitting on his bed. "Oi Yachiru, let's go."
Yachiru hesitated for a moment before reaching out and tugging on my sleeve. "Hisa-chan, you'll still come and play with me later, right?"
"I'd be happy to. If Zaraki-taicho says it's okay?" I asked, glancing uncertainly at the Eleventh Division captain. He stared bemusedly at me.
"Why're ya askin' me? I ain't her dad. S'not like I control what the brat does," he said gruffly.
"You may not be her dad, but she's still your kid, isn't she?" I pointed out. From what I understood, he took her in, fed her, clothed her, and taught her how to defend herself…as far as I was concerned, that made him her parent, biologically related or not. "It's only polite to ask permission."
Zaraki paused, an odd expression crossing his face, and it slowly dawned on me that this may have been the first time someone had come to him asking permission to…well, to set up a playdate of all things. It also went a long way in explaining Yachiru's initial hesitant attitude towards me. From the looks of it, she was used to dragging people into her games, but—how many times had someone sought her out just to play?
"I'll take good care of her," I promised, tilting my chin up so I could look him in the eye. Even sitting down, he was taller than me.
Zaraki was silent for another second before his gaze flickered to where Yachiru was looking at him expectantly. He huffed, rolling his eyes. "Whatever, kid. Ya wanna play babysitter, then sure. Just don't come complainin' ta me if she starts doin' annoyin' ya or somethin'."
I smiled, reaching down to ruffle Yachiru's hair. "Wouldn't dream of it, Zaraki-taicho."
"Otoribashi-taicho is currently finishing up a spar, but you can just drop the reports in his office," the scary-looking lieutenant of the Third Division said to me. She kind of reminded me of a Japanese version of Minerva McGonagall, with her stern, no-nonsense demeanor. "It's the room furthest down the hall and to the left—the door should be unlocked."
"Thank you, Iba-fukutaicho," I said, bowing politely.
"Just be warned, it's a bit of a mess," she said, the faintest note of exasperation in her voice. "Just put the reports on whatever empty spot you can find on his desk.
"Sure thing," I said, making my way down. Upon entering Otoribashi's office, I blinked. Well, Iba certainly hadn't been lying. Papers were strewn everywhere, a music stand stood in one corner of the room, the bookshelves were crammed with a mix of mission reports and sheet music, and on the desk—
"Oh," I breathed out softly, walking forward to get a better look at the beautifully carved violin resting on the table. It had been…well, it had been a lifetime since the last time I'd seen a violin. Unable to resist, I ran my fingers lightly across the aged rosewood, nostalgia swelling up inside me.
My throat felt tight and I swallowed, faint memories flashing before my eyes; orchestral concerts, the look of pride on my dad's face when I became concertmistress of my local youth symphony, Christmas jamming sessions with me on the violin, Dave on the cello, Mom on the piano, and Dad singing along, Grandad handing me my first violin when I was six and teaching me how to fiddle because no granddaughter of mine is gonna grow up not knowing music, and this always happened whenever I came across a piece of my old life, it didn't matter how long it'd been and goddammit, I should be over it by now—
"Would you like to play?" A voice from behind me made me jump back, startled. Swallowing heavily, I turned to see the Third Division captain staring at me, a curious look in his eyes.
"What?" I managed to croak out.
"I asked you if you would like to play," he repeated, a strange smile playing around the edges of his lips. "You looked like you wanted to, Yukimura-kun."
"Oh, I don't—I don't," I stuttered out before taking a deep breath to calm myself. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't play, Otoribashi-taicho." Not anymore, at least.
Even as Christina it'd been ages since I'd been strong enough to play. Compared to feeling my body slowly kill itself—as if the chemo and radiation hadn't been doing that already—music took a backseat in my priorities. It had been decades since the last time I'd felt the urge to pick up a violin, and it wasn't like I could just find one in Inuzuri. But seeing a violin again…and being offered the chance to hold it…I bit down on my lip harshly, turning away. Because the thing was, no matter how much I accepted the fact that I was Hisana now (and I wouldn't give this life up for anything), there would always be a part of me that missed the life I had as Christina. It was why I worked so hard on recreating the recipes I'd loved once; French fries and cakes and pizza and cookies. Why I had notebooks filled with half-remembered stories, all written in English. My information on the Bleach universe was useful, my medical knowledge even more so, but they'd never been the only things I'd brought with me.
"I should be going," I said suddenly, the words coming out in a rush. Reaching out, I handed Otoribashi the reports from Unohana. He took them wordlessly. "These are the medical reports for fourth seat Mitarashi and fifth seat Tanaki. Unohana-taicho also wants them to come up for a check-up in two days. That's all that I wanted to say, so-"
A hand on my forearm stopped me before I could make my escape. "No, stay," he murmured, that same strange glint in his eyes. "It's so rare that I come across a shinigami with an interest in music. Especially Western instruments. Most people here, I've found, don't share my preference for them."
Okay, so I could add 'music instruments' on the list of 'things in the afterlife that hadn't caught up with modern Japanese culture'. I was almost certain that Western music should have been introduced to Japan by now.
"Iemura-senpai will be expecting me back, and I have work to do," I deflected.
"I'm sure that the Fourth can spare you for a few minutes," he dismissed, waving one hand. With that, he reached out and picked up the bow before handing it to me. I took it without thinking, fingers automatically falling into the correct bow-holding position. Purple eyes gleamed, a hint of satisfaction entering his expression.
"Don't play, huh?" He asked, tone faintly mocking. "You must be a natural then, Yukimura-kun."
I flushed, feeling my face heat up. "I haven't played in a very, very long time," I corrected, looking down at the bow in my right hand. My fingers were trembling slightly.
"All the better to do so now, then," Otoribashi said, handing his violin to me. I stared at it for a long moment before accepting it from him, placing it under my neck in a half-forgotten movement. It felt awkward and uncomfortable—the chin-rest dug into my skin and the shoulder-rest wasn't quite adjusted properly—but at the same time, there was something so intensely familiar about it that for a moment, I forgot to breathe. I closed my eyes, almost feeling like I was Christina again, practicing in a suburban home in Connecticut.
Letting out a deep sigh, I reached up and drew the bow across the string in a foreign—but oddly practiced—movement. A clear, vibrant note (an A, my mind whispered, the note that every orchestra was tuned to) rang out into the room.
It had never sounded so beautiful.
"Touch my onigiri and die," I said without looking up as I continued to scribble in my notebook. Why Shihouin Yoruichi found the need to bug me even when Byakuya wasn't around, I had no idea.
"So rude, Hisana-chan." Even without looking, I could tell that she was pouting right now. "Is that any way to speak to a captain?"
"When the captain in question is trying to steal food from you? Yes," I grumbled. There was another reiatsu signature beside her, but I refused to look up. If I didn't look up, I could ignore it, and my gut feeling was telling me that ignoring it was in the best interest of my mental health right now. "I get enough of that from Ichimaru Gin, I don't need it from you too."
"You know, your relationship with that kid still baffles me," Yoruichi mused, a mystified note in her voice.
"What's there to understand? He steals my food, I try to stab him, he annoys me, I try to eviscerate him, he messes with some poor guy for fun, I try to pound a sense of common human decency into that thick skull of his. Haven't succeeded yet, but statistically, if this keeps up…well, it only takes one time," I shrugged. "It's simple, really."
Biting into another onigiri, I added, "I would love to chat some more, but I have a lot of w-" I blinked as my notebook suddenly disappeared before my eyes before whirling around to find some scruffy-looking blond guy flipping through it. Some scruffy-looking blond guy wearing a haori with the kanji for 'twelve' on it. Shit.
Still—
"Oi!" Urahara Kisuke blinked as an onigiri hit him right between the eyes. I glared at him, absently wishing that I could figure out some way to shoot reiatsu laser beams from my eyes. Ah well, something to look into later. "Haven't you heard of 'personal privacy' before? Give that back!"
"Ah, Yukimura-san-" Wow, that made eight captains who knew my name. Wonderful. "—don't be mad. I was just taking a look."
To add insult to injury, when I tried to swipe my notebook back, he casually held it at just out of my arms reach before continuing to flip through it. One eyebrow raised in surprise as he scanned my scribbled notes. My eyes narrowed. Well, that only left one option.
"Ouch!" He doubled over as I kicked him viciously in the shin, making sure to enhance my foot with reiatsu as I did so. I didn't think I could handle the humiliation of the kick hurting me more than it did him.
I sniffed, reaching out to snatch my notebook back before promptly whacking him on the head. "Don't touch my stuff, Urahara-taicho. It's rude."
Urahara sent me a mournful look. It made me want to punch him. "Maa, maa, Yukimura-san. You would hold a poor man's curiosity against him?"
"Damn right," I said flatly, holding my notebook protectively to my chest.
Urahara let out a heavy sigh, although there was a hint of reluctant amusement in his eyes. "It's almost like having another Hiyori around."
"Don't mind him; I've long since given up trying to instill manners into him," Yoruichi said, voice exasperated. Like she could talk. As far as I was concerned, both of them needed to attend a few lessons in 'Respecting Personal Privacy 101'. "What was in that book anyway? I'm feeling rather left out right now."
"Nothing. Just an extracurricular project of mine," I tried to deflect.
"Some extracurricular project," Urahara said, smiling wryly. "Tell me, do you always go around attempting to cure chronically ill captains in your free time, Yukimura-san?" My hands clenched as I resisted the urge to strangle him.
"There's nothing in here about 'curing chronically ill captains,'" I said stiffly. "So I've developed an interest in pulmonary disorders. Is that a crime now?" From the unconvinced looks on their faces, neither of them bought my excuse.
"Hisana-chan," Yoruichi's voice was gentle. "I understand wanting to help, but Ukitake-taicho has been ill for a very long time now."
"And?" I snapped out defensively. "Yes, he's sick and yes, there's no cure right now. Doesn't mean that there'll never be one."
Yoruichi shook her head, an almost pitying look in her eyes. "He's lived with it since he was very young, and in that time, no one's been able to do anything aside from relieve his symptoms a bit. Even Unohana-taicho-"
"Unohana-taicho doesn't know everything," I cut in sharply. "She's an amazing and incredibly experienced healer and she's one of the people I respect most in this world, but she's not omniscient. And maybe it's arrogance to think that I could possibly do anything where she couldn't, but as long as there's the faintest chance, I'm going to damn well try." Biting my lip and shoving back old memories ("I'm afraid there's nothing further we can do, Miss. Dalton. I'm sorry." "…how long? How long do I have left to live? Tell me, dammit!" "…two weeks at most. I—I'll give you some time alone."), I glared fiercely at her. "Please don't try to dissuade me again, Shihouin-taicho. I can't—I won't—give up on this."
Something seemed to dawn on Yoruichi's features. "This…this isn't just medical curiosity or concern for a captain, is it? This is personal for you." Piercing golden eyes scanned my face intently. "Hisana-chan, you—what happened to you?"
I turned away, closing my eyes and trying to ignore the sting in my throat. The tired, resigned look in Ukitake Juushiro's eyes…how many times had I seen that same expression reflected back at me when I'd looked in the mirror? Looked in the mirror and seen a ghost; head fragile and bald like a newly born baby bird's, emaciated wrists, skeletal features, ribs sticking out like daggers.
Worse than that though, were the frightened, agonized, worn out looks of my family as the months passed and I just kept getting worse and worse, knowing as I laid in that hospital bed that I would be killing a part of them when I died, the pained acceptance in their eyes—
"All I know is that Shiba-fukutaicho cares for Ukitake-taicho and it kills him to see his captain sick," I said finally. "That's enough reason for me to not give up."
"Gah!" I let out a small shriek as the branch I was napping on shook violently and I almost tumbled out of the tree. Well, almost—the rope I'd tied around my waist to the tree branch prevented me from falling entirely. Seconds later, I found myself hanging awkwardly from the branch, staring down at startled, dark brown eyes in a face mostly hidden by white cloth.
"What the hell?" The stranger blurted out incredulously from where he was perched on the branch beneath me. "What are you doing here?"
"Me?" I asked, feeling just as incredulous. And more than a bit ridiculous, considering the fact that I was hanging from a tree branch. "I'm an Academy student! This is the Academy! I'm supposed to be here!"
"Aren't you supposed to be practicing right now, and not napping in trees?" He asked, motioning towards where the rest of my class was engaged in bakudo spell practice.
"I got banned from kido practice for the next month," I said, shrugging. "I'd sleep in my room, but surprisingly, this tree is more comfortable than my bed, so…"
"Banned from-" The figure—and I could tell he was male, now—trailed off disbelievingly.
"Long story," I cut him off, not feeling like going into the details of how I might have accidentally-on-purpose set Matsushita-sensei on fire that one time he'd slapped Isane across the face for talking back to him.
Honestly, the Academy was overreacting—it was only a couple of third-degree burns. It's not like I hadn't apologized and offered to treat him afterwards. I thought I'd been very nice about the whole thing.
"Now that we've established why I'm here, who are you?" With the weird mask and the weird uniform combined with the fact that he obviously wasn't an Academy student or instructor, he was hitting an eleven on the creepiness scale and it normally only went up to ten.
When he didn't answer, I sighed and said, "You know, it's pretty sketchy of you to be hiding in a tree like this. I mean, some guy in a mask peeping in on a bunch of teenagers? What are you, some kind of pervert? In which case, I have to warn you: I don't tolerate pedophiles."
As expected, the stranger sputtered before waving his arms in protest. Too easy. "N-no! O-of course not! I'm from the Kido Corps, you brat!"
I paused thoughtfully. I knew that the Kido Corps sometimes recruited students from the Academy, but I didn't know that they started watching students this early. Still, if he was telling the truth, and the strange uniform he was wearing supported his story…well, I'd never been one to ignore an opportunity. Untying myself from the tree, I promptly dropped down onto the same branch as the stranger.
"Okay, say that I believe you. You wouldn't mind me asking you a few questions, would you?"
"And why should I answer?" The figure asked coolly.
"Oh come on. I'm bored, you're bored, and honestly, it's the least you could do after waking me up from my nap so rudely," I pointed out reasonably.
"The affairs of the Kido Corps are conducted in absolute secrecy," he said, eyes hard. "I will not indulge the petty curiosity of some Academy brat just because she's bored-"
"Lighten up," I snorted. "I'm not interested in that stuff. I just had a few questions about spells with incantations versus those without. And you guys are supposed to be the experts on this stuff, right?" I'd ask one of my friends, but…well, for all that they could do kido well enough, few of them were actually interested in the mechanics behind it. Byakuya was probably my best option, but he wasn't here right now. Kaien was another option, but that'd mean putting up with him going on and on about the various virtues of Fukui Miyako and…no. Just no.
"Can't you ask your instructors?" The guy asked exasperatedly. I was just going to call him Grumpy-face…not that I could see his face, with the whole mask thing and all, but it was probably grumpy.
"The same instructors who banned me from practicing here for the foreseeable future?" I asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "What's the big deal? It's not like you have anything better to do, and this way you can participate in the education of the next generation. Which is a very noble thing to do," I nodded sagely. Grumpy-face looked unimpressed. "At least hear me out," I pleaded, widening my eyes beseechingly.
"Very well," Grumpy-face said grumpily. See, I was so good at coming up with nicknames. "I will listen to you, and assuming that your questions are not completely stupid, I may deign to answer them." Wow. That was possibly the least gracious concession I'd ever heard. I was almost impressed. Still, that was all the invitation I needed.
"Right, so one of my friends taught me Hadou #31: Shakkaho a few weeks ago; said that if there was any hadou spell I needed to know, it was that one. I've been practicing on getting it down without the incantation, because honestly, the spell itself is useful but the incantation is completely impractical." It was why I preferred the simpler spells—the ones without incantations. All I had to do was channel the proper amount of reiatsu down my arm, focus on what I wanted it to do, and say the name of the spell. Easy.
"You do know that mastering Hadou #31 without an incantation is something most shinigami can't do until well after they graduate? Your friend may have taught you the spell ahead of your peers, but it's rather arrogant of you to think you can master it to that extent, don't you think?" Grumpy-face asked scornfully.
"Doesn't mean that I can't try. Like, what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Ask my opponent to wait as I recite some long-ass poem in front of him? That's just stupid," I shot back. "But anyway, all shinigami have vents in their wrists to release their internal spiritual energy in the form of reiatsu, right? Like sure, we have this layer of reiatsu covering every inch of our body, but it all comes from the wrists, where you convert internal reiryoku to external reiatsu. When you do a kido spell, you pull your body's internal reiryoku towards the vents in your wrists where it's converted into reiatsu and released in the form of a spell." In other words, reiryoku was potential energy while reiatsu was kinetic (usable) energy. Manipulating cells, healing, controlling my metabolism, any kind of kido spell—that was all reiatsu.
"Yes, I'm glad to see that you've apparently paid attention in your classes. Congratulations," Grumpy-face said dryly. I shot him a glare, before continuing on, undeterred.
"Shut up, I'm getting to the point. So I kept trying to figure out why incantations are even needed, and why some spells have them while others don't. So after going through like five dozen books, I discovered that there's a third component to how kido spells are formed. See, in class we went over how intent shapes the spell and how the amount of energy you put in determines its power…but we didn't cover what determines the inherent properties of the spell. Intent alone can't explain the wide variety of kido spells. But the origin of the spiritual energy used for spells might," I said excitedly. "The book didn't go into detail but apparently reiryoku that comes from the upper chest is different from reiryoku that comes from the abdomen, and so on. I wasn't sure if the information presented was accurate so I began testing out the spells I was more familiar with, and found that lightning based spells, like Byakurai, tend to use energy that originates from…near the head? I'm not sure, I had some problems identifying exactly where the reiryoku used for the spell was flowing from."
"You're correct that the properties of kido spells do depend on the origin of the spiritual energy," the Kido Corps member said. There was an almost considering light in his eyes now as he turned to face me. At least the condescension from before was mostly gone. "Not many people discover that on their own though. Reiryoku that comes from certain areas of the head—of the brain—is more suited for lightning-based techniques, so you're right about that. Barrier techniques use reiatsu that originates from the area around the solar plexus for stability, which makes sense as it's the core of the body, or the spine, for strength. The more explosive spells come from the lungs, where the air is, and fire based techniques-"
"Come from the upper chest, right?" I finished enthusiastically. I knew that what he was telling me was probably a drastic oversimplification, but still. It was nice to have my theories confirmed. "But that still doesn't account for why some techniques require incantations and others don't. If incantations help draw energy from the correct parts of the body for spells, then shouldn't all spells require incantations? But I know healing kido doesn't, and a lot of hadou and bakudou spells don't either."
"Ah, well that's simple enough to explain. See, all spells that don't require incantations have one thing in common; they all pull reiryoku from only one part of the body. Take Byakurai for example; you focus so much on the idea of creating electric power—piercing and quick—that when you create the spell, you subconsciously draw energy from the mind. Anyway, with those spells, the intent of the user—assuming it's clear enough—is enough to properly direct the user's reiryoku," he said, leaning forward as he began to warm up to the subject. I bit my lip, thinking hard.
"So if they only pull energy from one part of the body, then spells that require incantations must pull energy from multiple parts?" I asked tentatively. "Shakkaho…Shakkaho is mostly firepower, but it also contains explosive power so…"
"Correct." Grumpy-face said approvingly. "Things become a bit more complicated when multiple types of energy are involved in a spell; not only must you simultaneously direct energy from different parts of the body, but you must also direct them in the right proportions. The user's intent is no longer sufficient; thus, the need for an incantation. For most people, once they've used the spell with the incantation enough times, they eventually reach a point where they are able to subconsciously direct their energy for the spell without the aid of the words. The more complex the spell, the longer the process takes. However, just because they no longer strictly require it…"
"The spell still won't be as powerful as it would be with the incantation, because they're kind of just relying on…muscle memory, so to speak, at that point. They don't really have full control or awareness over their energy flow," I mused, thinking his words over. It made a lot of sense. I wondered which part of the body healing reiatsu originated from. "I'm assuming that kido masters don't have that problem? With the loss of power?" Because when they forewent the incantation, it was out of true understanding of the spell, wasn't it?
"Again, correct," Grumpy-face confirmed. I paused for a second, considering what I'd learned so far.
"Hey, is this also why it's so much easier to adjust the spells without incantations?" I asked. "You don't have to worry about energy proportions and stuff like that, you just have to worry about the amount of energy you put in? All I've managed to do with Shakkaho is change it from a big fireball to a little fireball which is pretty lame…but then again, the fact that spells with incantations combine reiryoku with different properties leaves a lot more room for experimentation, doesn't it? I understand that it's probably a delicate balance, but once you've mastered doing the spell without an incantation, couldn't you fool around with the proportions a little? Or figure out a way to adjust the incantation to do the same thing? Like for Shakkaho, add more air-based energy and less fire-based energy to create something that'll blow someone apart. Or do the opposite and you could end up with a fireball that's a lot more heated than the original spell. I mean, it might take some work to come up with something that doesn't give you third degree burns but the sheer versatility you could manage…and that's just with one spell!" I paused for a moment. "Why the hell don't they teach this at the Academy?"
"Because it's not necessary. The majority of shinigami can perform kido just fine with the aid of incantations. Most people don't even notice the flow of reiryoku in their own body because they're so attuned to feel of it that they can't tell the direction their energy is flowing from. It's certainly possible, but it's a bit like trying to feel the blood flowing in your veins," Grumpy-face explained, relaxing against the tree trunk. "Anyone can direct energy out of their wrists, but what we've talked about is something completely different. Being able to detect and manipulate your energy flow to such an extent…it is really only necessary for modifying, changing, and creating kido spells. If a student wishes to learn more advanced reiatsu theory, it is usually up to them to conduct independent study after graduation. "
Which, well…it made sense. Why waste years teaching students skills that they didn't strictly need, and might not ever use, after all?
The sound of a whistle blowing announced the end of class and I grimaced before turning back to the Kido Corps member in front of me. "I have to go; history starts soon. But thank you for taking the time to explain all this to me, it really clarified a lot of things about how kido spells work," I said earnestly.
"I suppose it was not…too much trouble," he said grudgingly. "As you said earlier, I wasn't very busy anyway. But I am…glad that you have such an interest in the subject." I blinked. That last part had been unexpected.
"How can I not? Fireballs, ropes of energy, barriers that can stop monsters…it's a bit like creating magic, isn't it?" I grinned, recovering from my surprise. "So much cooler than just swinging a sword around."
Grumpy-face let out a startled laugh, brown eyes lightening a fraction. Damn. At this rate, I'd need to make up another nickname for him. He tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing in thought.
"The kido lessons for the Second Class are on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays from eight to ten, correct?" He asked abruptly.
"That's right," I answered hesitantly, wondering where he was going with this.
"And you will be back on Wednesday?" He continued, eyes intent on my own.
"Uh—sure? I mean, this tree is pretty comfortable, so…" I trailed off bemusedly.
"Good. I will be back then," he nodded sharply. I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly feeling sheepish.
"Yeah, I guess I kind of distracted you from doing your job, huh? You know, the whole 'looking out for promising recruits' thing. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to get carried away," I said, looking down awkwardly. "Next time I'll help you look, okay? I'll even point out who's been doing well."
Grumpy-face stared at me for a long moment. I had the strongest feeling that he was judging me for some reason. "Thank you for offering, but your assistance is not needed," he finally stated. "However—before you leave, I hope that you will answer two questions of my own."
"Ask away," I said cautiously. A hint of confused frustration entered his eyes.
"First of all, how on earth did you manage to get banned from your classes?" There was an odd emphasis on the word 'you.' "I got the impression from our conversation today that you seemed to have a tolerable understanding of what you were doing." Tolerable, huh? Gee, what a compliment.
"It was a training accident and you can't prove otherwise," I said a bit too quickly. He raised an eyebrow and I scowled, just daring him to say something. "So my aim was a little off. Matsushita-sensei should have been paying attention."
Grumpy-face looked like he barely restrained himself from sighing. It was an expression I was intimately familiar with; Iemura-senpai wore it all the time.
"Figures. I don't know what I expected," he said exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose. So dramatic. I was beginning to think it was a requirement for becoming a shinigami.
"And your second question?" I asked, starting to climb down.
"I would like to know your name." The softly spoken reply took me by surprise and I paused in the midst of shimmying down the tree. Looking up, I found him staring at me with that same considering light in his eyes again.
"My name is Yukimura Hisana," I said cheekily, flashing him a quicksilver grin before jumping the rest of the way down. "Remember it."
I rubbed my eyes tiredly as I crossed 'cystic fibrosis' off my list of possible disorders. From the notes of Ukitake's most recent diagnostic scans (honestly, it had been all too easy to sneak into the records room and steal a copy when Iemura's back had been turned, the security of this place was shameful), there wasn't any sign of abnormal mucus buildup in his lungs. Still, the possibility of a genetic disorder couldn't be eliminated…although the fact that he hadn't shown any symptoms until age three made the chances rather small. Slumping forward so that my cheek rested against the desk, I absently doodled a picture of a pair of lungs being chased by a mutant pathogen before crumpling it up in frustration. Fuck this era and fuck its lack of modern technology and diagnosing tools, seriously.
"You're going to get a cramp in your neck if you continue to sit like that," a familiar voice said from the doorway. I whipped my head around to see Byakuya leaning against the wall, a faint smile on his lips as he looked at me.
"Byakuya!" I stood up hurriedly, accidentally knocking my chair over as I did so. An involuntary smile spread across my face. "You're back!"
"That I am. I was wondering how long it'd take you to notice," Byakuya laughed, grey eyes warm. He extended his arms towards me and I didn't hesitate to take his unspoken invitation, reaching out to hug him. Closing my eyes, I took a moment to take in his scent, the rhythm of his heartbeat against my ear, the feel of his reiatsu surrounding me, the warmth of his arms embracing my body.
One second, two seconds, three seconds, I thought to myself before stepping back, composing my expression into something a bit more neutral. Three seconds was all that I allowed myself nowadays. More than that, and I didn't trust myself to let go.
"How was your mission? You didn't get hurt, did you?" I asked, scanning him worriedly for any sign of injury. "How were Kazuki and Mitsuo and the others? They treated you well, right? And Rukia and Renji? Did they seem okay? How are Miwa and Kaori doing? They're all eating well?"
"See for yourself," Byakuya replied, pulling out a thick stack of letters from inside his shihakusho.
"Oh," I breathed, eyes widening as I took them from him gently, almost reverently. My fingers twitched as I fought the urge to tear into them right away.
"Go ahead, I don't mind," Byakuya said softly. "I know you've been worried about them, Hisana."
That was all the invitation I needed. Skimming the letters, I took in the words eagerly, almost hungrily, clutching the paper with a desperate fervor. Up until this point, I hadn't quite realized how much I'd missed them.
Kaori's letter was the shortest of them, brisk and to the point ("Oi Hisana, hurry up and come back, won't you? Those kids of yours are driving me crazy with their moping" "I can't believe that you sent back all that money. We don't need it, we're doing fine. Didn't I tell you to stop worrying about us and focus on yourself for once? Idiot."). Kazuki's letter made me laugh wistfully as he went on and on about the trouble Rukia and Renji got in ("I still say it's unfair that you never had to deal with being a victim of their pranks" "Aside from the headaches caused by Kaori's nagging—don't tell her I said that—and the pineapple brat's idiocy, I'm doing well. We still get tons of free food even when you're not here; apparently no one wants to piss off the future-shinigami's family").
Mitsuo's letter held a faintly exasperated tone, and for a moment, I could almost picture him standing in front of me and scolding me ("Even from seventy eight districts away, you can't stop worrying. Between me, Kazuki, Kaori and Miwa, we have more than enough money. Have some faith in us, will you?"). Miwa's letter was neatly written, each character printed with obvious care ("Shishou, my handwriting has improved greatly with Mitsuo's and Kaori's help and the clinic is doing well, even if it's not the same without you. It'll never be as good without you, but I'm trying and I hope that when you come back, you'll find something you can be proud of.")
Renji's letter was full of splotches and crossed out sentences, and was slightly crinkled up, as if he'd scrunched it up into a ball at some point in frustration before smoothing it out again ("Yeah, I'm eating my vegetables…yeah, I listen to Kaori-nee-san when she tells me to go to bed…geez, what am I, five?" "Are the healers really treated like crap there? Those jerks…you kicked their butts, right?" "Don't worry. I'm taking care of Rukia, just like I promised. Even though she's being more of a pain in the ass than usual these past few months, which I didn't think was possible.")
The one from Rukia was the longest, spanning over ten pages front and back, more half-incoherent rambling than anything else ("I'm so sorry this letter is so short, nee-chan, stupid Renji stole the rest of the paper because he kept messing up and having to start over" "Just want you to know that I'm training super hard here and I'll definitely be able to join you soon! The next time you see me, I'll be way stronger" "Oni-sensei was mean to me today, yell at him when you see him, okay?" "Also Renji-baka dropped a spider down Kazuki's shirt, he screamed like a girl, it was hilarious" "You mentioned that you met some captains? What was that like?" "Love you, nee-chan. I miss you.").
By the time I got to the end of Rukia's letter, my vision was blurry and there was a giant lump in my throat. A light touch on my shoulder made me turn around to see Byakuya looking at me concernedly.
"You're crying," he said softly. If this had been any other time, I might have felt amused at the faint note of panic in his voice.
"No I'm not," I protested thickly, blinking rapidly. Because the universe hated me, this had the unfortunate side effect of causing fat droplets of tears to roll down my cheeks. Wiping them away angrily, I proceeded to carefully fold the letters back up and tuck them away. "I—I'm sorry I'm so emotional right now, and I'm not—I'm not usually like this-" My voice cracked for a second before I soldiered on. "It's just, I-" A hand on my wrist stopped me.
"You don't have to excuse yourself to me, Hisana," Byakuya said quietly. "And you—I never want you to feel like you have to hide your feelings from me."
"I—just ignore me. I'll get over it. I'm just being s-stupid," I muttered, voice tight. "I…I should be feeling happy right now, not…not crying. I get to hear from my family for the first time in months, but-" I swallowed convulsively, but didn't protest as Byakuya pulled me to him, holding my face against his chest.
"I just miss them so much, you know?" I whispered. "Usually it's not so bad, but sometimes…sometimes it's just really…hard, not being able to see them." I let out a choked laugh. "I wish I was back with them."
Byakuya's arms tightened around me for a moment and his jaw clenched. "I can't say that I fully understand how you feel," he admitted. "But just—just know that I'm always here for you. You may not be able to see them right now, but you have me. You're not alone."
"I know," I exhaled slowly, giving him a watery smile. It didn't quite manage to erase the hints of worry lingering in his features and instinctively, I leaned up and planted a soft kiss on the edge of his jaw. At the brush of my lips, he inhaled sharply, eyes widening ever so slightly.
"Don't worry about me, Byakuya. I'll be fine. Really," I murmured, inserting as much sincerity as I could into my voice. "Because if there's one thing that makes being apart from my family worth it, that makes this whole thing bearable…it's you. And for that, thank you."
Author's Note: The most ironic line of this chapter is Byakuya telling Hisana "I never want you to feel like you have to hide your feelings from me," and I'm just shaking my head like if you only knew.
Also, how did I do with Yachiru's characterization? I tried to get across that even though she's about 10000x tougher than your normal child, she's still just that—a child. And she's not quite as confident as her future self yet.
Hope the kido-theory rambling made sense too. And the emotional scenes. And everything in general, really.
Anyway, I wish all of you good luck on your finals and a very happy holiday season :D