Chapter 8: Viper (II)
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Twenty six fresh corpses were laid out in white under a temporary tent erected for the sole purpose of housing the dead while the living stood under a barely risen sun. All the grown men from the Kasumioji household, including that of the venerable Elder Kasumioji- the head of the clan, had died inexplicably overnight.
The council elders surveyed the scene of wailing women and screaming children woodenly, wondering how narrowly had their own families avoided the same fate as it became quite clear that this was no accident. It had to be connected to Yoruichi's poisoning.
Angry shrieks of terror and grief came from women widowed from the night before.
Who would speak for them now when only women and children were left?
Who would know the anguish of twenty six widowed women, mothers made to bury their sons, and the children forced to grow up without their fathers?
Their despair choked them and in their moment of grief, their gaze turned towards that of their leader. They were scared, shocked- trying to make sense of the tragedy and pick up the pieces of their lives as the bereaved but overwhelmingly, they were hungry for revenge.
Someone must pay for the lives incurred- the lives of spouses, sons and brothers! The souls of the departed would know no peace until the blood debt is righted and paid in full.
The look on Ichigo's face was grave. The Kasumiojis were in shambles. There wasn't an able-bodied man left from the clan to saddle a horse let alone succeed the position of Elder and serve their sheikh, as for Yoruichi- the woman was not dead yet but everyone knew it was only a matter of time; those who don't stir after two days of sleep are never far away from death's door.
Over the course of two days the Sheikh had lost his two main supporters- his hold on the seat of power teetering. Some had their hands inching towards their swords, eyes darting warily between that of their young sheikh and Grimmjow- his strongest contender.
Peace between the two factions was disturbingly fragile. Now the scales have tipped considerably and any shift in power was bound to be calamitous. If Grimmjow were to stage a coup today and seize power, it was anyone's guess who would be the last man standing and who would be Sheikh.
Ichigo spoke first, addressing his main concern.
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"Healer Rukia have you found the cause of death?"
Rukia looked up from her knelt position. The body she was currently examining was the last of the victims. All of them had thrown up or soiled themselves prior to their deaths. The stench was revolting and the dark brown stain very telling- the poison wreaked havoc on their organs, made them bleed from the inside and stopped their hearts.
"These men were poisoned."
The ensuing silence was terse. She merely confirmed what everyone had suspected all along but the impact of those words was heavy. The bereaved were still huddled in their corner of tears and grief and upon hearing that, one of the older women threw herself to the ground- her clothes torn and her face dirty, while she implored the young sheikh in the shrillest of voices.
"Avenge us!"
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A sudden high-pitched scream interrupted them.
The first to react- Rukia ran towards the source; trailed behind by a gaggle of curious men and equally perplexed elders, more so when it became apparent that the scream originated from within the Kasumioji encampment.
The remaining survivors hastened their pace.
Within Rurichiyo's tent, shards of ceramic and pottery littered the ground. Orihime was curled into a ball, shaking like a leaf. She had stopped screaming by the time the crowd gathered but the muted horror echoed in her eyes fixed on her cousin's body.
Rukia crept forward, Ichigo behind her and after him- came the Council.
It was not a pretty sight.
Rurichiyo's eyes were glassy and wide; a thin trail of dried blood clung to the corner of her lips. The girl was dead- her body crumpled on the afghan carpet; had probably been dead for some time now with how stiff her body was and the awkward framing of her outstretched hand.
Not far away from the fallen body was an overturned chalice- its contents have long since dried but a faint hint of something lingered on the inside.
Rukia picked up the silver cup and sniffed at it, ignoring the open look of disgust on some of the men's faces. It was a dirty, thankless job that she had been tasked with. With the body of a dead girl lying by their feet, now was hardly the time to be squeamish.
Her lips tightened into a grim line. The smell of the alcohol was unmistakable and the implications were vile.
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"To the campsite."
The men had been drinking the night before. The embers of the bonfire may have long since died but the sealed barrels of arak were still standing, left untouched in the wake of the tragedy.
The clue was in those barrels.
"Break them!"
The men stood still, watching her strange behaviour warily. They would not move without their sheikh's order. When it became apparent that no man would step up and act, Rukia grabbed hold of one of the smaller flask and hurled it towards the scorched earth with all her might.
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Crack!
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The smell of aniseed and alcohol wafted through the air.
Rukia could almost hear the men bemoaning the waste of good arak. The sour look they shot her spoke volumes about what they thought of her senseless destruction of alcohol. She ignored their glares and scowls.
They would thank her later.
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Bright pink oleander petals followed the trail of liquor that dripped from the cracked barrel.
Eyes widened. The wailing got louder as did the cries of disbelief from angry men as they realized that they have found the poison and the murder weapon.
Ichigo pushed past the enraged mass. His eyes narrowed at the sight of the soaked flowers and broken ceramic. The set of his jaw tightened.
"Where did the barrels come from?"
The women collectively shook their heads. It wasn't their place to question their husbands, yet all could attest that this particular batch was not made by them. Their homemade brew was sealed differently. As to why the men would be stupid enough to drink a brew that was not made by the womenfolk of their family, general idiocy notwithstanding, the arak must have been gifted by someone they trusted.
The obvious question remained- Who?
"Make way."
The crowd obeyed, parting for the newcomer as she emerged.
Yoruichi- regal and dignified despite her ashen appearance moved into the line of sight, joining Rukia and her nephew as she made her way through. Her presence stirred the crowd. Gasps of surprise and relief heralded her arrival, the almost reverent adoration in their eyes as they cleared the way for her.
And this- thought Rukia; was how you made an entrance.
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Rukia's gaze swept across the Council who gathered to the right of their sheikh- noting the faces of those who failed to hide their surprise, and those whose face betrayed nothing from the moment they had seen Yoruichi's appearance. The latter were the ones she needed to watch out for.
The Sheikh on the other hand, seemed much too calm. His eyes barely read any hint of surprise, as if this miraculous comeback was a development that he had already been made aware of.
Good leaders are experts of feigned composure but even then there was a limit to it. Rukia suddenly had the awful suspicion that she had been played.
"You knew all along?" snapped Rukia. She went through all that trouble, had come so close to losing everything when he knew all along and made her go through it anyway!
Ichigo merely smirked in response- neither confirming nor denying the possibility before turning his gaze towards his aunt, pointedly avoiding Rukia's gaze and further questions.
She scowled. That man was beyond infuriating!
Yoruichi cleared her throat and the attention of the mass shifted towards her. The looming question was there in their eyes and they awaited her answer with bated breath.
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How?
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How did she survive the poisoning?
The crowd wanted to know. Last they heard their lady was unconscious and fading yet here she stood before them- alive and whole. Surely this was a miracle- a blessing from their ancestors!
Rukia bit her tongue, bowing as graciously as she could to the older woman before retreating to the side. The stage- the battleground was now primed and at the center stood Yoruichi and Ichigo. They were out for blood.
"We have been deceived."
Despite her weakened appearance, Yoruichi's voice was steady. The opening statement had her audience captivated, "The killer lurks amongst us and he almost succeeded in his plans. But the spirits and the ancestors have spoken, they have granted me protection and now I stand before you, alive and well. I will unmask him."
Eyes gleaming and finger extended, Yoruichi pointed her assailant out and in one swift move exposed him to the angry tribesmen.
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"Yammy, you're the poisoner!"
Predictably people were caught off guard.
"Lies!"
Yammy spluttered, reeling from the shock of Yoruichi's accusations.
"Where is the proof to your accusation?" Grimmjow barked, already taking over, already mounting his counterattack, while his followers were still confused and surprised.
The men at this point were united in their front; some outright glaring at Grimmjow. They didn't care for his interruption or any interruption of any sort. They wanted to know more, more of the intriguing truth that Yoruichi was unmasking before them.
And so Yoruichi continued unperturbed- openly dismissive of Grimmjow, "I wasn't the intended target for the poisoning."
A hushed silence befell the crowd.
"The intended targets were the Kasumiojis all along. Rurichiyo unknowingly brought that arak over to me as a present when she visited me with her cousin. Little did I know that her kind gesture and my appreciation of good arak would have killed me had Healer Rukia not been present."
"L-Lies!"
Yammy's stammer was seen as indicative of his guilt. Women- poor, frail widows were suddenly forces of nature that could only be held back by men ten times their strength. They fought against their hold, kicking, screaming, spitting at the murderer.
Wiping the trail of spit that ran down his face, Yammy glared at Yoruichi. Curse that woman and her blatant lies!
There were no gifts of arak made. The plan that morning was simple, the Orihime girl was supposed to add the poison into the woman's coffee when she was visiting. The bitterness of it would have masked the taste of the oleander.
Evidently she had betrayed them and now—
He gulped.
Now he had played right into the bitch's hands.
There was a gleam of satisfaction flashing behind her eyes before she turned to address him in a voice that rang of righteous fury.
"Yammy- you dare accuse me of lying! Speak then- what is the truth?"
The truth wasn't an option.
Yammy couldn't possibly admit that he and Elder Kasumioji have been working together to poison the tribe matriarch. Yoruichi had survived it and now she was out for blood. Somehow she must have learnt about his involvement as well.
"Why would I poison the Kasumiojis?" he countered instead. He refused to answer for the crimes that she had pinned on him. For all his failings he had not murdered those men and for that he did not deserve the wrath of the bereaved.
"What could I possibly gain from killing them?"
Yammy sneered. He wasn't stupid. If Yoruichi had thought she could wrangle a confession out of him simply by using words of crafted story and playing to the emotions of the crowd, then the bitch had obviously underestimated him as well.
"I have poisoned no man. Poisons are of cowardly means, more suited to women who cannot answer to the weight of a blade in their hands."
Yoruichi did not rise to his less-than subtle insinuations. All the sneers and taunts from him wouldn't make a difference as she stood before the gathered crowd- silent but poised.
Ichigo had seen and heard enough. Clearing his throat loudly, he asked, "Can anyone vouch for your claims, Yoruichi?"
"My husband recalled seeing something strange a few days ago. With your permission, I would like to call on him as a witness."
The Sheikh's approval was a reluctant one.
By virtue of being her spouse, the tribe's obligatory eccentric was also the godfather of the young sheikh. Yet despite his elevated position and the fact that he had married into the prestigious Kurosaki family decades ago, the tribesmen still called him Urahara the fool.
It wasn't hard to see why. From his green-striped bucket hat right down to the soles of his strange sandals, the man was unabashedly odd- that much Rukia had gleaned from their first encounter between a healer and her patient's grief-stricken husband. Without that guise of sorrow the man's eccentricity was projected unfiltered to the world and he wasn't the slightest bit embarrassed by it.
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"Well I was going about my business that fine morning- goat herding is of course very serious business as you may all know. I had just had bread for breakfast and the lovely-"
"Dearest I don't think we're interested in knowing what you had for breakfast. Skip the irrelevant parts please."
The heavy sigh he heaved as he acquiesced to his wife's demands suggested that he was being asked to pluck out the moon from the starry night sky instead.
"Very well. I left after saying goodbye to my lovely wife. Her beauty sings to me like the break of dawn on hallowed ground, like the moment I opened my eyes and saw breakfast laid o-"
"Dearest we talked about this. Skip your irrelevant musings."
It was a credit to Yoruichi that she didn't even react to the exaggerated praises or perhaps that was a thing that married couples learned to tolerate. In another life, Rukia mused that the man would have made a successful bard.
"But dearest this is about you! You are the most important part of my day! How can any part of you be irrelevant?"
"Get on with it!" Ichigo snapped.
Urahara didn't even blink at the outburst. The expression on his face stayed overwhelmingly neutral as though they were talking about the weather instead. "I overhead the two elders while I was out herding. Yammy told Kumoi that he wants them to become a proper family by marrying his daughter."
A sly smile as he tipped his hat in mock salute, "It seems that our lovely Rurichiyo had garnered the attention of a most ardent suitor whose heart beats only for her."
Yammy's face burnt, feeling the openly disapproving glares from the womenfolk. It was true of course that the Kasumioji girl was beautiful. With her blonde hair and glimmering eyes and more importantly, very hefty dowry, it was enough to tempt even the most pious of men.
But this—
"Didn't he just bury his wife?"
"Yes! That was his third wife by the way, didn't you know? Nanao tried her best but the mother lost too much blood. He told her to save the child first."
"Shame!"
Someone in the crowd jeered and the tribesmen were inclined to agree.
By all accounts the mother's death was preventable but she was too young and the child too big, and when it came to it the Elder was more interested in preserving his bloodline- the proof of his virility despite his age than that of his young wife. Three moons later, he was already sniffing after a replacement.
It seemed that age had finally addled his brain. Everyone knew Kumoi was saving the Kasumioji girl as a potential bride for their young sheikh. Hath the man no shame?
Before Yammy could deny the unflattering accusations, Urahara was already off on another tangent- "And in return for the girl's hand in marriage Yammy would act as a spy for the Sheikh instead. But Kumoi righteously rejected him and threatened to reveal his schemes to Grimmjow if he didn't stop pestering him."
A collective shudder crept down their spines as Grimmjow's men regarded him with barely concealed fear. He roared and grabbed the older man by the throat, raising him above ground.
"Yammy is that true?"
Yammy's face paled. His master's fury melted iron and knew no restraint as his hold tightened. Madness gleamed in those eyes and when his anger took over –
It became hard to breathe.
"N-No! W-Why-?"
"For revenge," said Yoruichi simply, "A dead man tells no tales but you weren't content to just bury one man to hide your shame and wounded pride, you went one step further to make sure that even if we knew who the murderer was- the Kasumiojis would have no warriors to call upon and exact justice! You poisoned all of them!"
The crowds turned amongst themselves, so that was what it was then- a revenge killing.
They cast a wary glance at the direction of the snarling man still holding Yammy by his throat. They were no stranger to his cruelty. Some have witnessed the beatings of slaves and servants if one was unfortunate enough to incur his wrath and the man was a berserker when enraged. Even a company of grown men would have difficulty in prying him off his victim when he was in one of his 'moods'.
If Yammy could bring himself to serve a bloodthirsty man like Grimmjow- would it be too far a stretch to assume that he would be capable of an act just as heinous?
Grimmjow growled at Yoruichi, releasing his grip on Yammy and letting the latter crumple to the ground from the sudden absence of support, gasping for air. "You expect us to believe that? This man is your husband. You have no other witnesses!"
Yoruichi's gaze sharpened.
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"I saw him at the tent with Grandfather two days ago."
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The voice came from the gathered crowd. Small and timid at first it grew louder as the adults realized the gravity of his words. Seeing the glare from Grimmjow, the boy's mother gave him a sharp tug, clamping a hand over his mouth while attempting to shield his tiny body with hers. She had already lost a husband today- she wasn't about to lose her only son to that mad man as well.
"Let him speak."
Yoruichi asked, "What did they talk about then, Kon?"
Kon wrestled free from his mother's hold. "He came to apologize. He brought the arak to show his sincerity."
Yammy seethed. That was only half the story. The brat had only caught part of the conversation. The apology was for doubting the plan would work; not for whatever fanciful story that the bitch and her husband had pulled out of their arses. He may have brought the arak but in no way were they poisoned.
What was Kumoi's grandson doing there and how could Yoruichi have known?
Just how far did her reach extend- how was she able to convince someone within the Kasumioji household to aid her?
"Did he say anything else?"
Kon chewed at his lips- his eyes were still swollen from crying. "No. They left the tent soon after."
Yammy scoffed. "You believe the words of a boy who was eavesdropping on the conversations of his elders? What were you even doing there, boy?"
Kon swiped at the angry tears. He wasn't a boy- he was his father's son and heir. His family depended on him. The good name of the Kasumioji clan and the responsibility of re-establishing themselves lied with him now. No one- none would ever see his tears.
"I was stealth training! And I will train to be a great swordsman under Sheikh Ichigo. Someday-" his breath choked- "someday I will avenge my father and grandfather."
Yoruichi stepped forward, blocking Kon from Yammy's view. Her eyes sought out Grimmjow.
"Here's your proof!" she declared, "I have here the words of a boy who saw Yammy together with his grandfather- the late Elder Kasumioji. I believe that a visit to the Llargo family compound is long overdue."
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