Natsu picked apart the fabric that had covered up her closet for the fifth time in the minute. Her eyes would land on the object and she would shut the curtain again, leaving it as it had been for the past two months. She had made sure to keep it fully shut - so that the fabric hung from post to post - whilst she had spent so much time in the room preparing for the case. Now, she couldn't tell how long she had spent ripping the fabric back and forth as she stood in front of what was supposed to be her closet; not that she ever had very much to leave hanging in it. Finally, she clung tight to the fabric, drew the dense weight back with her hands, knuckles tight, and stared. She stared down at the instrument that had been sitting there for near thirty years. Her hands had made it without much of her brain's choosing, just like the sculpture she had made during her recent time at the Kotomi House of two united hands. Thankfully she had left that embarrassment back there. Her fingers slowly lifted the tired and burdened blue fabric from on top of the object and moved it so the old and stained scarf hung from the tension curtain pole that was there.
Before her stood, now completely unobstructed by anything, an originally designed phonograph. There had been one in the Kotomi House basically her entire childhood and it had been taken away from her view one hundred years ago by her grandfather; an attempt to make sure that she wouldn't destroy it on her rampages. She had already gotten to the record discs they kept around the house at the time that the phonograph had disappeared. She never mentioned it to her old grandfather but she found out exactly where he had stored it only a few months later. But she never wanted to reveal how important that piece of furniture was so she never let him know that it was okay to bring it out of that murky, collapsing corner of the house. So she may not have obliterated it, but, instead, years later she found herself disassembling the entire outside structure and using the parts to construct something completely new.
The top section was very much the same as any other phonograph. It was square with a ring for the turntable where the record would be placed. The handle for the crank stuck out of one end near the top, which was just for show since it was an electric piece and didn't need the crank to play the music. From the back came the large metal contraption connected by the back bracket. The tiny needle known as the reproducer, since it replicated the sounds, connected directly with the tone-arm which infused with the elbow which carried all the sounds from the record out of the horn which hung over the top of the turntable. The width of the horn at its largest was just about the length of the wood box, which held all the other mechanical parts inside.
The original part of the design was the new wood she had used to create the box. It was a dark burgundy, cherry color. It glistened from the varnish that she had used so frequently to make it entirely smooth and to stop it from cracking or chipping. She had even designed a small pattern on the sides once she had gotten bored with how bland it looked. It carried just the small twist of vines along the sides, and the back had a small initialing of her name. Not her actual name, just the pen name that she sometimes used to sign the pieces she was most proud of; two, tiny symbols that nearly disappeared into the corner. It would take a keen eye to spot it.
In addition to the phonograph itself, she had added another dimension which hadn't been on the original. Below the box which housed all of the musical mechanics of a phonograph, she had attached a long cabinet like structure to the bottom. It was made of the same color wood, and was sanded down just the same. It had tiny bulbs at the bottom of its legs. It came out just a bit wider than the instrument itself and gave the piece extra stability. The cabinet only had three sides, lacking a panel at the front to stay open.
The bottom piece added not only height to an otherwise small structure, so that it stood up to about her waist, but also convenient for holding records in it. A simple plank of wood split the cavernous space into two shelves. The spaces were deep enough to hold records without them poking out, and though she had never tested how much it could hold, she had assumed it was quite a lot given the slimness of the old records. There was only one in it now, laying prone and flat against the shelf since there were no other to make sure that it stood straight.
Since Natsu didn't want to dirty up her quarters at the barracks, she had worked on it over a very spread out six years at the Kotomi house. She liked to make sure that she straggled on completing the piece. It gave her less hours in the house, less time to sit in a dusty old room, and more time to walk around dream land. As it turned out, in between her missions, when she really needed the bed rest or when she got actual, mandated time off, most of the time, she had lost any motivation to look at the project let alone finish it. How many times had she contemplated trashing it before she had ever finished it? She had been close one or two times if she remembered correctly, and had even damaged it more than a few times when the urge became too much. But six years later she had stood before it. She tested it, with the only record that had made it through the damage, just that once to make sure that all the mechanics had worked. The music had run out just like she was thrust back right into part of her memory that could recall all the noises and the patterns. She had shut it immediately after that and, after tons of consideration, she brought it back to the room in the fourth division barracks.
Her fingers slowly traced the turn table, and she let out a tiny sigh. She slowly bent over and picked up the bottom with her hands and then tilted it back so that she could carry the piece at a slant along her body. It took some maneuvering as Natsu realized how unsustainable carrying it solely from the bottom would be. In the end, the backboard was flat against her chest while her other hand planted itself around the open curve that was the front of the cabinet. This way she could make sure that the record didn't fall out, and that the weight was evenly distributed through her entire body. She grumbled to herself slowly as she tried to figure out the best way of getting around Seireitei but she decided just on going the normal route.
She garnered more than a few curious glances and even some offerings to help her carry the piece, but she shook them all off. Her feet remained steady beneath her for the first time as she walked through the white walls. Only her hands moved awkwardly about as she constantly repositioned the weight and made sure nothing was sliding about. She edged wide around its bend so that she wouldn't accidentally run into anyone or another whitewashed brick on the turn. Her eyes continuously flicked around; in caution for the piece and making sure it wasn't chipping anywhere, although it wasn't possible to do so with just her hands; in nervousness when she was too close to walls or when she found her hands needing to reposition so that she wouldn't drop it; in slight worry as she tried to figure out if she was actually going in the right direction, though as a fourth division member she really should have known. Not that she had ever stepped into the compound, much like she had always avoided the ninth, third, and twelfth. She wanted to make this an easy and fast trip so that nothing would fall apart or that she wouldn't be questioned too much, but she also had to proceed with the utmost caution. She was an outsider after all.
"Is that… Kotomi-san?" Natsu turned slightly and ran into Hinamori Momo, who immediately looked rather curious. "What is that?"
The fukutaicho was up on her feet after so many months of healing, though she was running a bit slow due to the damage taken from the war. She had lost not only her side and many organs, but had also taken a stab very close to the heart. Not to mention the girl had not fully recovered from the initial set of injuries that she had sustained before the war; not including the mental issues.
Natsu hadn't been overseeing the operation but she knew it was only recently that the girl had rebounded fully to be able to go back to the fifth division and to take up her official mantel as fukutaicho. It had fallen mainly on the third seat to navigate the bureaucracy of leading in the mean time and the tenth division had taken up a lot of the slack due to the apparently close relationship between Hitsugaya-taicho and Hinamori. That being said, the fukutaicho wasn't going in completely empty. Once she had woken up, she was given deference in opinions about all the work that the fifth division had to do, even from her spot on the medical bed. That and she had a lot of support internally from the rest of the division who seemed to want to make the transition as easy as possible for the girl.
There had of course been a lot more work with the addition of new captains but not much of it had been "new" and that was making the frictious, awkward transition smoother. The only thing that Natsu could think of was that the Vizards had requested that all areas used specifically by the captains were to be cleaned up thoroughly. All three of the returning captains had also requested for their old rooms to be used, instead of the rooms that had been switched when the new generation of captains had come in. Natsu could understand their reasoning, as it would be a complete departure from the other captains in every other way, and be more like a fresh start. It did create a bit of a scramble in the three divisions as some of their work had been diverted so that they could prepare the rooms in just two days.
Before Natsu now was a still wary girl, which had little to do with the sudden need for energy they had to put in to cleaning out their barracks, and everything to do with being nervous about meeting a new captain; a former captain who had been tested and manipulated by the man that she had sickeningly followed around like a damn puppy. Natsu roved over the dark bags and the obvious windswept hair, that although was kept in a bun, was still very messy and almost looked knotted. Hinamori's slim body had lost even more weight and she looked just a bit more lively than a skeleton. The fukutaicho was in need of obvious rest and Natsu would have locked her up in the fourth division if she didn't know how important it was for the lieutenant to be part of the transition process. Still, the girl was making a recovery, and the stress was wearing her out completely thin; from the display of her shihakusho, the dryness of her face, and the lose of sheen in her hair.
"Fo' ya new cap."
"My… Captain." The words came out as if they were on a chopping block of new ideas; twisted, deformed and sawed down to a dusty residue of incredulity. Likely, she had never thought that she would say those words. There was a tiny waver of a smile before everything washed away with her eyes as they rose up to meet Natsu's own with a stronger lock. "We didn't order that, though."
"Ain't needin' no orderin'... Why don'cha let me put it down in 'is office?"
The girl stayed silent for a moment as she fiddled with her hands. "I'm not really sure. I don't want to upset him jus-"
"Trus' me. E's gonna like this," Natsu broke through and garnered a look from the woman that looked slightly awe inspired but still nervous. Maybe there had been a flash of curiosity, like someone was trying to put together a puzzle right before her. "'E don't like it, 'e still won't get angry at ya… 'Eard 'e's pretty chill."
Momo took another moment before she gave a small gesture to follow her in. Squad five was one of the stranger division barracks, Natsu decided as soon as she stepped foot into the space. The main houses like the eating room, wash rooms, and the kitchen were on the ground floor or at least Natsu assumed from the way the place smelled just as she was walking further in. They were also the largest buildings, made for communal spaces no doubt, and it would make sense that the biggest buildings lay below the ones higher up. That wasn't necessarily the strange part as most squads had a few high standing structures. What made the fifth division stand out was that there was tons of open space in the stone courtyard which was littered with the most shadows she had ever seen. Shadows which zig-zagged and crossed over one another. Natsu furrowed her brow as she saw the entrances to the sparse buildings in the courtyard and then tilted her up head up to note the abundance of bridges that were swamping and obstructing her view of the sky.
No wonda eve'thin' is cloudy even tho' i's sunny ou'.
"This must be your first time in here," Momo commented as Natsu turned her eyes away from one of the bridges they had walked under. "The fifth division is the only barracks I know that uses the second floor more than the first…. Apparently the area used to flood a lot."
"Eh? Tha's pretty bad."
"That was years ago though. I guess, they just didn't think about ever remodeling the place." The words came out in a small sigh and Natsu watched the fukutaicho's eyes which was quickly fading into a dark space. This entire place must be connected to memories, and the girl had no where she could disappear to.
Natsu grimaced slightly and then paused slightly as she saw that they weren't up but, instead, headed down to a small hallway on the ground floor. "So tha cap stays on the ground floor?"
"Huh? Yes." Momo looked a bit disconcerted as well and she watched her steps since she obviously hadn't gotten used to walking this way. "Apparently he always liked the ground floor. I guess, I'll just have to ask him why when he gets here."
The room that Natsu entered into was completely bare, minus a desk. Probably, the quickest way to make sure that captain was appeased with how un-Aizen the space was. There was another part that was closed off to the side with shogi doors, which she assumed would lead toward the bedroom that the captain would use. Delicately, she got Hinamori to lead her in there with a nudge of her head. Natsu's eyes now roved over the space until she landed on a small electrical outlet and she moved through the new space with just a tiny glide that was unnatural with her normal way of walking. It was easy to walk through a room that she didn't recognize, nor held any of the ghosts that she was used to seeing. It was just a simple room.
The weight smoothly dropped from her hands as she placed the phonograph just to the left of the outlet. She then hunched down to work the electrical wire from the bottom shelf and then out through a slim pocket she had made in the back corner so that it wouldn't trip anyone or be a hassle. The black wire came out easily and then she made due with plugging it in. There was a tiny spark and she drew back as she received the shock on her fingers, before she poked the rest of the plug into place.
"What exactly is it, Kotomi-san?"
"Natsu," she immediately corrected the voice behind her before giving the tiny girl a peek over her shoulder. "I's a phonograph… Plays music. Wanna 'ear?"
There was a small nod of agreement before Natsu was sliding the only record out from the shelf. The cover slipped off almost immediately as she titled the package to the side so that she could loop her finger into the hole at the center of the black record. She placed the cover onto the wood, as she circled the record slowly around her finger to begin and work off the dust. Then she took the time to blow away what was left with a few puffs, and the gray speckles floated around the air. She maneuvered the black disk around so that the edges could dig between the two palms of her hands, and gently put it down on the turntable. Her eyes took in the sight before she was placing the tiny needle down on the grooves.
"So ya jus' push down on tha crank 'ere." Natsu gestured to the small device and pushed it down slightly so that it wasn't parallel to the wood. Instantly the turntable began to spin around and just after sounds began to come out from the horn. "An when ya wanna shut it off, ya push it back up."
Natsu shut the music after only a few more moments and looked over at Momo more fully. The fukutaicho was still observing the entire piece with her eyes flourishing over it too quickly to really see anything. There was very little contact between the human world and Seireitei, and there were no classes offered about human society, so everything was new and strange. Rumors were so quick to follow anyone that had a mission there, and even after thousands of years of Shinigami going back and forth, there were still so many new things that Seireitei had no clue about. Ironically, the higher up one got, the less likely it was for them to have the ability to explore the human world as one became retained and tied to work that had to be done in Soul Society. Add that to the fact that most shinigami didn't have much interest in learning about the human world, things such a phonograph weren't typical knowledge for a shinigami; regardless of their standing.
Natsu only let out a long sigh and got the record off from the turntable and then back into its cover, before she left it slide along to its old resting position along the shelf. "I's jazz music. Ya should get used ta it from now on. - Don't gotta like it… Jus' deal wit' it."
Finally the girl's mouth began to move to say something. "Are you sure this will go over well?"
"Ya jus' now 'avin' those thoughts," Natsu quipped back with a burgeoning smirk at the suddenly flustered girl. She placed her hands calmly into her pockets as she watched Momo try to make her point more clear. "Ya worryin' too much. Like I said, 'e don't like it… 'E'll get rid of it."
"I'll tell him to return-"
"Don't wan' it." Natsu stuck a finger into her ear and looked off to the side. "'E don't like it, 'e can do wha'eva 'e wan's wit' it. But don't give it back ta me. I ain't got no use fo' it."
Momo's brows furrowed and there was a scrunch in her lips as she tried to figure it out. It probably did look very odd for Natsu to suddenly hand over an object like this without much explanation of what it was or why she had it in the first place. Then to act so confident about the placement of it in someone else's room was something that was probably even more off putting. And now, she wanted nothing to do with it?
"Tel' 'im it was jus' sittin' in someone's closet fo' a long time an' they didn't wan' it no more," Natsu explained out slowly as she began to trudge back outside and bypassed the flabbergasted fukutaicho. "Tha's wha' i's been doin'… Jus' knew tha' ya new cap 'as a thin' fo' jazz. Bit o' a rumor goin' 'round."
"Rumor?" Momo let out in a worried breath since she had missed out on something vital about the new captain she would be serving under for a long time. "This… Is it a present from Unohana-taicho then? Since, you know... he was the former captain. They must have known each other."
Natsu blinked a few times at the grudging admittance from the fukutaicho. Her words had come out very softly and with a pure sadness knowing the implications of what she was saying and how it made her lovable 'Aizen' look like the true culprit. The girl had a long time before she could ever speak that name properly. There was just a small flash in her own head about just how well the integration would go for all three divisions, although the fifth division would have the worst of it. Followed, only shortly behind by the third division. After all, Momo was the most emotionally invested in her captain, as was the entire division. The other divisions, at least, had members who were not so entirely victim to the facades of their captains.
She blinked a few times before remembering the conveniently placed excuse and the way out of the entire thing, so she latched to it quickly. "Yeah… I's from ma cap ta ya cap as a welcome 'ome presen'."
"Well please let her know we're honored to receive it and we'll make sure to tell her how our captain-"
"Yeah, yeah." Natsu waved off the long words before giving the girl a smirk. "Ya really flappin' ya gums… Sounds like ya need some sleep."
Momo let out a tiny laugh as she fixed at her fringe just a bit before she settled her hands in a wrapped collision down by her front. "It really is unsuitable isn't it? … I'll make sure to get a good night's rest so I can greet the captain properly tomorrow."
"Can't go lookin' ugly." Natsu gave slow agreement to which got the girl flustered just a bit again. "Gotta go. Jus' came ta deliva tha'… See ya."
Natsu waved off the gesture to be walked back out, knowing she could retrace her steps easily in a place like this. She made her slothing steps a bit longer than normal so that she could get out of the rainforest of bridges much faster. The sun seemed to have disappeared during her small meanderings in the fifth division. There were no hands to reach out and collect her again, since she really had never stepped foot into the compound. There was, however, shattered glass all along the floor of the broken promises and the dreams which were turning to dust as her lion roared in a full blazing heat.
Natsu's eyes slowly fluttered opened during her afternoon nap that day from the sudden surge of new reiatsu in the air which had come not just as a signal but also as a slight warning to any that opposed the situation that was in transaction. The soft undertones came along with that tingle of spices under her nose, most prevalently cinnamon, and the slight fusion of a tight bolt in her throat as she swallowed thickly. Her stomach revolted up for a minute and she found her own reiatsu sparking in response to the fake call. She yanked, nearly desparate, at the flares of her reiatsu and finally managed the shut down the bursts that were going out.
Her hand gripped onto the back of her head as she pushed it down until her nose was buried down into the grass. She dug into her skin until she was grasping onto the longer strands of her fuzzy Mohawk. When finally that wasn't enough, her fingers made a clean get away and wrapped into themselves. Tight fists wormed into her head instead of tiny puncture wounds. She took in the crisp scent of grass and dirt deeply to get rid of the flare of heat from the cinnamon in her nose as she tried to remain stitched down the ground. Then she drew her knuckles along the skin of her head several times, leaving the faint taint of their harsh scrap, until she flattened her hand back out and pressed herself that much tighter.
The old man had decided on something slightly less formal for the welcoming ceremony of the three re-instated captains and the one fukutaicho. Most likely due to the fact that it was an unprecedented event and even the Sou-taicho wanted to demonstrate how different the Gotei 13 could be. A meeting halfway in some sorts. So, instead of whisking them away into the first division, where only the heads of the inner-divisions were made aware of the change, the old man had switched tactics.
The ceremony was held right outside the main senkaimon and was the official presenting of the captain haoris as well as a few words. All the captains had been mandated to be in attendance of the place along with their fukutaichos. However, it was open to the public as well and the new concept had gotten more than a few eager whispers over the two days. It was probably that anyone who wasn't busy at the time with their duties was finding a way to trickle over to the area to see the newcomers. More than enough rumors had been spread since the war and everyone seemed eager to know exactly who and what they were talking about.
She hadn't been formally invited to the welcoming ceremony by the old man nor had he requested her appearance with a more forceful command. Unohana hadn't even spoken to her about attending the ceremony. In fact, her presence was probably only missed by Ayako who had decided to attend. Her mentor's ties with the past, due to her old age, made it a bit more conceivable that she wanted to be there, in an odd way. Perhaps, there was a small measure of excitement at the prospect of seeing memorable faces again.
Her mentor had attempted to get her to attend. After all, it had been her hard work that had even allowed for the prospect of their return. The information hadn't be widely disseminated, of course, and the Sou-taicho had blocked any communication coming from the top after the court case. No one even knew who the Sou-taicho was looking at for to take over the empty captain positions. It was just as it always had been.
It wasn't that there was anything swearing people to secrecy, either. The fukutaichos could have talked about it, though they hadn't, or someone in the top five seats of division one could have gossiped. It was simply that it didn't matter. No one cared for the twentieth, now third seat, that had given Soul Society a few more options. In the long run she'd disappear into nothing more than a small mention in a history textbook, at best, for her reasoning against the Central 46 and maybe for her working with the ryoka. Only the fukutaichos and the captains knew all of it.
Natsu had grudgingly given the story to Ayake seeing that she'd never get to sleep other wise, and that was just fine with her. She waved the woman off, seconds before she could truly insist on it. It was too much work, would require too much movement, would force her to be around too many people, and was just too much standing about. She had no interest in seeing the Vizards again, and she had much needed sleep that she could get caught up on. Unohana still hadn't coughed up on the sleep that had been promised to her for healing Yuko, although she had spent a little over three months out of service to the fourth division.
Her eyes scrunched shut as she could basically make out the way that people were probably clapping. It sent small shock waves through the air and every now and again the wind stopped so that it could create a bolster against the hands that were trying to trap it with every movement of the individual's hands in that massive crowd. It could have also been her imagination. With her nose buried in deep, and knowing that there was no one around for miles around, just once she let out a guttural groan into the never speaking earth beneath her. Her lungs breathed out fury and black smog until she choked just the slightest bit on a sodden piece that had gotten trapped into her throat.
