Chapter Fifty Eight: Seiren Unleashed
Time was running out.
Shibata closed the door of his master's study with a soft click, a look of consternation marring his features as he turned on his heel, making his way slowly along the hallway and up the flight of stairs that led to Seiren's particular quarters.
It had been something of a fight between his conscience and his obedience to commands, but, with Guren's words still lingering in his ears, Shibata had made up his mind. Whether Seiren wanted to listen to him or not, leaving him isolated in the study was not an option any longer - and so that morning he and a group of Seiren's most trusted retainers had forced their way inside, each one half-expecting a violent wave of resistance from the man who - despite his lack of spiritual power - was a far superior swordsman to them all.
The room had been quiet, however, and as Shibata had cautiously crept forward he had made a startling and disturbing discovery.
Slumped in the corner of the chamber, the wall the only thing preventing him from falling headlong was his master, pain etched onto his brow and an eerie greyish tinge to his features. Shibata's first thought had been that the man was dead, but with some relief one of his subordinates had reported Seiren's breathing, and Shibata had made up his mind.
If it brought wrath down on him later, he would deal with that then. Whilst Seiren was in no position to give orders to the contrary, he would act.
It had taken four or five retainers to transport Seiren's limp body the short distance from his study to his quarters on the floor above, for though he was only one person and had lost a considerable amount of weight since closeting himself away, something about making contact with the man's skin had made the errand all the more difficult. Shibata had only brushed his finger against his master's neck to ensure that the lord still had a pulse, but the sudden shock of energy that had shot through his body at that vague contact had made him pull back, instructing his men to deal with their mission with the ultimate amount of care.
Oblivious to the majority of spiritual vibes, Shibata could not feel the pulsing waves of ever darker reiatsu that polluted the upper levels of the house. Shouko, had she been inclined to show any concern for her husband might have noticed, but since Seiren had returned home the lady of the house had made a pointed effort to steer well clear of him, and Shibata knew that even if he had asked her if she had noticed any changes, the likely response would be that she had not.
Leaving two trusted guards on duty outside his master's chamber, he had returned to the study alone, glancing around the scene for any sign of anything that could have caused or contributed to his lord's ill health and unusual behaviour. Though the room was in some disarray, there was nothing of particular significance that Shibata could see and with a sigh he had given it up as a bad job, resolving to return to Seiren's side.
I should call a physician, even though he ordered me against it. I'm no medic, but I can tell that he's in no good state, and without help he may not last too much longer. I'm not sure how to help him and I know how hard he resisted the idea before - but a vassal is meant to show ultimate loyalty to his master. Sometimes that means disobeying orders, surely...if those orders are contrary to the lord's well being.
He sighed, pausing outside his master's chamber and nodding to the two guards that they could go. They did so, saluting sharply before hurrying off to continue with their daily errands, and Shibata pushed back the divide, stepping into the sunlit chamber.
As he did so, he realised Seiren was not alone, and he stopped dead, his eyes full of wary confusion as he registered the lean, tall figure who was now sat at the other man's bedside. His fingers moved towards the hilt of his sword, but at his arrival the stranger raised his head, offering the man a faint smile.
"Ah. You are here. Shibata-dono, wasn't it? I thought it too good to be true that you'd abandon your master's side in a situation such as this."
"Who are you and why are you in Seiren-dono's chamber?" Shibata demanded. "How did you get in here with my men stationed outside the door?"
"Those aren't really questions for a soldier to ask, nor for me to bother answering."
The man turned his attention back to Seiren's body, resting his hand pensively above the other's chest.
"Your lord is in a bad way, isn't he?"
"That's no business of yours," Shibata strode forward, reaching to push the newcomer's arm away from his master's body, but the stranger laughed, lifting his index finger lazily in the retainer's direction. From nowhere a sudden wave of invisible energy flowed out across the room and Shibata stumbled, reaching out to the wall to steady his balance, and the interloper smiled, shrugging his shoulders.
"I've not come to hurt him," he said quietly. "I wanted to speak to him, but it seems I was too late. I doubt he'll regain consciousness - in this condition I'm amazed he even still has functioning internal organs."
"Who are you?" Shibata said blackly, and the man sighed.
"I have many names," he said dismissively. "You might call me 'Masaki', I suppose. Yes. Masaki is adequate. If you must have a name, that one will do."
"Masa...ki?" Shibata's brow furrowed. "I don't know who that is. Why are you in Seiren-sama's chamber? I'm warning you..."
"I can heal him a little," Masaki cut across Shibata's words, offering the retainer an even look. "I'm not a healer, and I don't practice medical magic as a rule. My knowledge of such things is extremely limited, but in this particular case I think there's something I can do to help."
He spread his fingers across Seiren's chest more firmly, and Shibata was aware of a faint glitter of light shimmering at the edges of the man's skin.
"What are you doing!"
"Mending the damage to his heart," Masaki explained simply. "I wouldn't expect you to pick up on it, but at this distance from his aura I can feel that the rhythm is erratic. I'm using the threads of my spirit magic to pull together the torn tissue and allow it to beat more firmly. It's not a technique I'm used to using, but recently I learned a way that such threads could be used to knit the body together, and this seems a perfect opportunity to see whether my spirit threads work as well as a healer's do in the same circumstances."
He fixed Shibata with a searching gaze.
"As his servant, you'd prefer him to live the day out, wouldn't you? A dog is not much use without his master. This much I can do, and so I'll do it. I've no interest in seeing Seiren-dono come to harm. On the contrary, I consider him an extremely valuable individual with a unique ability and position within the Kuchiki Clan. As a result I seek to negotiate with him...on matters relating to District Six and the wider good of Seireitei."
Shibata's gaze flitted to Seiren's features, his eyes narrowing as he realised that some of the grey pallor had begun to leave the sleeping noble's face. Was it imagination, or did the lines of pain seem to have thinned out a little? He eyed Masaki doubtfully.
"Robed as a commoner and with no name of meaning, I find it hard to call you an acquaintance of my master," he said slowly. "I am Seiren-dono's chief retainer and there are few things he engages in that do not in some way or another involve me. I want to know your reason for coming here, Masaki-dono. Whether you wish to help my Lord or not is not the issue - why you wish to help him troubles me more."
"You are an intelligent man," Masaki's eyes became calculating and he nodded, withdrawing his hand from Seiren's chest. "There. More than that I cannot do. I imagine the nature of our discussions don't involve you, however. Contrary to my simple appearance, I am a Clansman, just as he is. See, I will prove it to you."
He slipped his hands into the folds of his clothing, pulling out a Kyouraku emblem and setting it down at Seiren's side. Shibata stepped forward cautiously, scooping it up and glancing at it with suspicious eyes.
"Kyouraku?"
"As you see. Your proximity to Clan should tell you that it's a genuine insignia - not a fake."
"I grant you that," Shibata's lips pressed together thoughtfully. "I know Guren-sama has treated with the Kyouraku of late, but that doesn't explain why you should come here, Masaki-dono. An ally of my master you may be, but I think it unlikely we would not have met before."
"As it happens, we have," Masaki told him lightly, "only you wouldn't remember it. I travel largely incognito and mostly undercover - my errands are secret ones and I use spiritual magic to conceal myself from others. You are doubtless a brave fighter, but you are not a spiritual man. You would not be able to see or sense me if I chose to conceal myself from you."
"On what errand have you come?"
"That is a subject between your master and myself."
"Perhaps it is. However, at present Seiren-dono is gravely ill. As you can see, he is in no state for negotiations - I was about to send for a physician."
"This sickness cannot be so easily cured," Masaki shook his head. "It was born into him - I imagine it will also kill him."
"Born...into...?"
"You knew your master always was in possession of spirit power, didn't you?" Masaki eyed Shibata quizzically. "Sealed at birth, but born with it nonetheless?"
"Of course, but that's an ancient story."
"Not any more," Masaki smiled. "The seal around Seiren-dono's magic has begun to erode. Spells have limits, and this one appears to have reached that point. Doubtless the stress of the Clan's current insecurity has preyed on him."
His gaze flitted back to the sleeping man.
"Lord knows the news I bring him will go no way to soothing it. Still, I have my orders. I must convey my information to him in person...I can't return with my mission left undone."
"News?" Shibata was suddenly ill at ease, and Masaki nodded, reaching into his obi once more and pulling out a bundle of what Shibata could see were scraps of torn black cloth. The visitor tossed them in his direction, and Shibata's eyes narrowed, taking in the faint shadowing of a darker stain that had seeped through the fibres.
"Blood?" he murmured, and Masaki inclined his head once more.
"As a soldier, I'd expect you to notice that right away," he agreed frankly. "I've come from District One, and I bring no good news to this house. What I have to say relates to his son Ryuu-dono - a young boy in his final year at Genryuusai-sama's noble Academy, correct?"
"Yes," Shibata's sense of unease grew. "What news? What news of Ryuu-sama?"
"The Senior Class were sent to the Real World by their sensei as shinigami experience," Masaki got to his feet. "Thirteen students left District One, but only twelve returned alive."
He gestured at the scraps.
"Those are proof of my story's accuracy," he added. "Blood was spilt and life lost. I was charged with the errand of bringing that information here right away - it seems the confusion within the Kuchiki-ke has managed to claim another life."
"Ryuu...sama?" Shibata grasped up the fabric, staring at the visitor in undisguised alarm. "No...no, you can't...you must be wrong. There's no way...Genryuusai-sama knows the situation, he would never..."
"I understand the boy wanted to go and chose to of his own accord," Masaki's smile held the faintest hint of pity. "It seems he wanted to prove his kinsfolk innocent - both Shirogane-dono and his own Father. He wanted to establish for himself who was guilty in this affair. Perhaps this is a good indication that he did."
"Ryuu-sama...is dead...?" Shibata whispered, but before Masaki could respond, there was a faint voice from the bed.
"Ryuu...?"
"It appears for today that I've outstayed my welcome," Masaki said softly. "Your master would better hear the news from someone he trusts rather than an agent born of a different Clan...I can return at a better time, when things have settled down."
"But..."
Shibata faltered, lost for words, and Masaki paused at the bedside, gazing down pensively into Seiren's confused grey eyes.
"Lords live with the decisions they make. Sometimes they die by them," he said quietly, and Shibata got the distinct impression that his words held a deeper meaning than they appeared. "Ryuu-dono appears to have made decisions of his own, and decided to accept the consequences of doing so. I tried to tell you, Seiren-dono - I warned you your son was no longer in Genryuusai-sama's protective custody, but you would not listen. I won't be blamed for the result."
"You...!" Seiren's entire body became rigid as recognition flooded his gaze, and he lurched his heavy body forward, his hand shooting up towards Masaki's neck in a definite attempt to grab him by the throat. Shibata could see Seiren's arm trembling yet there was no hesitation in his movement, nor in his apparent desire to grasp his visitor and pin him down. Masaki merely laughed at his efforts, stepping neatly out of Seiren's reach and bowing his head in what was almost a mocking gesture.
"We shall meet again, I expect," he said playfully. "I'll allow you some time alone to come to terms with your decisions first."
With that he was gone, though Shibata did not know if he had truly left the room or whether he had used his spiritual abilities to further conceal himself from the retainer's sight.
"Ryuu..."
Whichever was true, neither one of them were important now and Shibata hurried to his master's side, aware that Seiren was struggling to move his body into a more amenable position. The pain lines that had seemed smoother a few moments before once more carved deep into his brow, and as Shibata hurried to support his companion's thin frame, he was aware once again of the prickle of unfriendly energy racing through his master's body.
"Seiren-dono, please, lie easy," he begged. "You are unwell - I will fetch help. You should lie here and sleep some while longer...your body is weak and..."
"Where...is...Ryuu?" Seiren's words cut through his vassal's appeals, and Shibata was aware of genuine panic surfacing in the Clansman's grey eyes. "Shibata, where is Ryuu?"
"My Lord, Ryuu-sama is not in District Six. You should not concern yourself with him - at present what's best is..."
"Tell me what happened to my son!"
Seiren's words were quiet, yet they echoed around the whole room and Shibata found himself flung back against the wall by some unknown force as the whole chamber began to tremble and shake.
"Seiren-dono, please! Calm yourself!" he begged. "We have no confirmation...we have no information from Guren-sama nor District One except the word of a stranger! There's no reason to believe...no reason to assume..."
"Is this what proof he brought me?" Seiren's shaking hands slipped beneath the scraps of blood-soaked fabric, lifting them up before his gaze. "Is this the final evidence of my son, Shibata? Tell me the truth. What did that creature say to you - tell me what he said!"
"That creature?"
"Yes! That monster...that Aizen Keitarou!"
"What?" Shock flared in Shibata's eyes at his master's words, all thought of manners and rank deference flying out of his head. "That man...that man was...Aizen? The man the Council seek...the one who killed Shouichi-sama of the Endou-ke?"
"Tell me what he said, Shibata," Seiren did not seem to be listening. "Tell me everything. Everything! Tell me now, or I swear I'll take your head from your shoulders with these bare hands!"
The Clansman was almost beside himself with anger now, but though there was something unstable in his gaze, Shibata knew that it was fear most of all that was dominating his master's actions. Slowly he dropped to the floor, lowering his head in submission towards his lord.
"With respect, sir, if that man was Aizen Keitarou, there is no reason to believe a word he says."
"There is every reason," Seiren spoke in low tones, and the room shook again as if rocked by an earth tremor. "By his own lips he admitted to the killing of Ribari-sama and the conspiracy against Guren-niisama. By his own lips he threatened to take the life of my son if I did not cooperate with him and become his ally. He is the one who did this to me! He was the one who ripped my body open, tore apart Father's seal on my spirit power and condemned me to dying in this way. Now I want to know what he told you about Ryuu. I want to know, because I swear...I will not rest until I tear him limb from limb!"
The room shook a third time, and Shibata gulped, swallowing hard. In all the years he had served at Seiren's side, he had never once had cause to be afraid of his master - but in that moment he knew he was.
"He said that thirteen of Genryuusai-sama's students went to the Real World but only twelve returned," he murmured softly. "His implication was that Ryuu-sama...Ryuu-sama...did not come back to Seireitei. He said that the...the young lord chose to go there to prove the innocence of his kinsmen and find out who had killed Ribari-sama."
Seiren's expression changed, all remaining colour draining from his features, and Shibata got to his feet, hurrying to his master's side.
"Like I said, my Lord, there's no indication from the main house nor from District One that his story is true. There's no reason to believe..."
"This cloth is stained with blood, Shibata," Seiren's voice was soft and somehow unreal to Shibata's anxious ears. "That man...that man has told me nothing but painful truth since the first time he stood before me. Ribari-sama's death. Nanaki-hime's involvement. Unsealing my spirit power so that it could take me apart piece by piece. All of those things he stood before me and told me."
"He's truly been here before?" Shibata's eyes widened.
"The last time he was here, I refused to ally with him," Seiren's voice shook. "I told him he had no power over my son's life, and that I would not betray my brother. He warned me that my decision would have consequences. I should have seen...that his weapon is truth, not lies."
He closed his eyes, and Shibata was horrified to see the glitter of tears on his master's lashes.
"If Ryuu is gone, there is nothing left," he murmured. "Nothing left...nothing at all."
"Seiren-sama!"
Before Shibata knew what was happening, the room shook and lurched violently a fourth time, the trembles growing greater and greater all around him. Cracks split across the walls, shattering the glass at the windows and sending shelves and other pieces of expensive furniture smashing to the floor. Unable to keep his balance, Shibata struggled forward to where his master lay, but Seiren himself seemed to be the epicentre of the earthquake and try as he might he could not get close to his master's body.
"Seiren-sama, please! Please rest! Calm down! Please!" he yelled out, projecting his voice over the sound of breaking ceramics and creaking floorboards, but Seiren seemed oblivious to anything his retainer had to say. With an unearthly scream that sent the blood curdling throughout Shibata's body, the Clansman was engulfed in a haze of vivid white light, his body becoming more and more shielded from Shibata's view.
The next moment there was a huge explosion, and everything went black.
The chamber was quiet, the lights dimmed and the curtains and shutters drawn shut at the windows as if to keep out prying eyes.
Akira hesitated for a moment in the hallway, then slid the divide back, glancing each way to make sure he was not observed before crossing the threshold and entering the tiny room beyond.
The door had been locked when he'd arrived – presumably to keep anyone from interfering with or even finding the distressing scenario that this room contained. If he was to be caught here, probably he would be scolded and perhaps worse – but despite himself he had not been able to so easily keep away.
She looked as though she was sleeping.
As he tentatively approached the bier, the strangely peaceful expression on her young features made him stop, for a moment doubting his own recollections of the blood-stained corpse he had so carefully ferried back from the Real World to District One. Retsu had done a good job, he acknowledged grimly to himself, of concealing the worst of the damage, for she had been cleaned and re-robed in a fresh white hakamashita, the ugly weal at her throat concealed by a swathe of soft white bandaging. Her hair had been washed and fastened neatly back from her face, and for a moment he just stood there, staring down at her in silence.
He brushed a finger against her cheek, noticing with bitter clarity the coolness of her skin. There was no movement, no colour, no life in this body now – all the bathing in the world could not conceal her pallor, and although it seemed as though she might wake at any moment, Akira knew that she would not.
He drew back his hand, bowing his head towards her.
"I'm sorry, Suzuno."
The words were soft, but they seemed to echo in the chamber.
"I couldn't protect you."
He closed his eyes, his memory flitting back to the first time he had met his classmate. She had been gentle and quiet from the start, yet with an inner strength that he had never quite fathomed. She had never been afraid of him in the way some of her friends had, and he remembered only too clearly the times when she had faced him with that calm, even expression of hers, telling him in clear, soft tones that she could heal a lot of things in people, but healing his attitude she could not do.
He opened his eyes, kneeling down beside the bed.
That night in the Real World when I saved Shihouin from the Hollow, you scolded me then, too. You always scolded me for something or other, didn't you? I could never really answer you back, though, because somehow you were always right. You were like a fussy older sister or a mother hen at times…but I was fond of you. We all were.
He slipped his fingers into her ice cold ones, squeezing them gently.
Maybe me more than the rest.
He drew breath into his lungs, remembering the scene that he and his friends had stumbled onto in the mountain clearing. Naoko in tears, everything in chaos…and Suzuno, soaked in blood, still and quiet against the black stone floor.
If I had been quicker, I might have taken you back alive. When Edogawa wanted to help you, maybe I could have let her. When Endou wanted to go fetch her, maybe there would've been a point. I didn't know what kind of enemy lurked in the forest, Suzuno – and clearly, nor did you. Neither one of us were prepared for what we were going to find out there…and because of that, only I came back alive.
He bit his lip.
I broke my promise, didn't I? If you knew that, you'd scold me. I know you would.
"I'm a healer. I don't fight."
Her words penetrated clear and fresh into his thoughts, as though she was speaking to him from beyond the dead.
"It's my job to protect people's lives, Akira-kun. That's the reason that I'm here. We're all here to protect something – what are you here to protect?"
He had answered her quickly, as he often had, with proud words of his family and their heavy expectations of success and honour. Yet she had rebuffed him, fixing him with that piercing gaze of hers and she had asked him yet again what it was he truly wanted to protect. His answer then had surprised even him, but he had never taken it back.
"You," he whispered now, getting slowly to his feet. "I wanted to protect you. You laughed at my Clan pride and I got all cross and told you I would protect you with my sword while you protected lives with yours. I couldn't do it though, Suzuno. I wasn't able to. What Endou and Shihouin were saying about this Aizen Keitarou tells me that Seireitei's a lot more dangerous for all of us than I ever thought it was before. If even you can be murdered…someone as peaceful as you…"
"I thought you might be here."
Kanshi's voice jolted through him like a bolt of electricity and he spun around, his expression a mixture of defensive anger and embarrassed guilt.
"What are you doing following me?"
"I was worried about you. I still am – so is Aoi," Kanshi spoke gravely, moving to join his companion and gazing down at Suzuno's still form as he did so.
"Rest in peace, Suzuno-chan," he murmured, casting his hands together briefly over her body as if saying some kind of prayer. "If there's another world and another life beyond it, I hope it's as happy and as peaceful as you deserve."
That was almost too much for Akira, who swallowed hard, turning away from his friend before his emotions overwhelmed him. Kanshi did not speak for a moment, but then Akira felt a friendly hand on his shoulder, and he knew his companion understood.
"It wasn't your fault," now Kanshi's words were quiet. "My saying that is pointless, because you always pull everything onto your own shoulders – but it wasn't, and I'm telling you so now. This burden belongs to all of us, too. Suzuno was our friend too – she was everyone's friend. Her murder is something none of us will forgive – so don't go off doing crazy things in the name of vengeance, all right?"
"I wasn't going to," Slowly Akira turned to face his classmate, "but it isn't over. From what Endou and Shihouin were saying, it really isn't over. Aizen Keitarou, the Clan exile…"
"Mm," Kanshi's eyes darkened. "This is no longer just the Council's fight. One of ours was killed, two of our classmates were hurt. If we're not careful, we'll wake up one morning and find ourselves embroiled in the battle too."
"We already are. Suzuno's death is proof of that."
"I thought you said…"
"I know," Akira nodded. "I'm not going to hare off anywhere or do anything right now, Kanshi. Not alone, not without knowing more…not without training more. I can't."
He glanced at Suzuno's body once more, then,
"If I'm going to make her ghost angry with me for fighting in her name, I at least want to be sure of winning," he added bitterly, "but I'll tell you something now…I won't forget. I'm not ever going to rest until I've carved Suzuno's memory into that man's body with my own blade."
"She really wouldn't like that," Kanshi scolded, and Akira shrugged.
"I know, but she's not here," he said sadly. "If she was, she'd scold me - and maybe for once I'd listen to what she had to say with more focus than I have before. She always said that fighting everyone was a futile way of protecting comrades...maybe this is the proof."
"You are blaming yourself," Kanshi let out a heavy sigh.
"Who else is there to blame?" Akira asked hollowly. "Shikibu? She at least raised her sword and tried to fight back."
"This Aizen is the one I'd put top of the list," Kanshi said acidly. "He's the one who shot his sword into her."
"True," Akira agreed. "I was group leader, though, Kanshi. And more than that..."
He gazed at Suzuno one last time, then turned back towards the door.
"We're talking about Suzuno," he whispered. "There's no way I can leave this alone. As a Yamamoto, as a Clansman, but most of all as her classmate...this is my war now too."
"Guren-sama! Guren-sama! Urgent news!"
Guren glanced up from his desk, weary irritation in his ash-grey eyes as the messenger flung back the door of the study, skidding to an ungainly halt before colliding with the wood and hastily bowing his head.
"Please, Guren-sama, there's an emergency message from Seiren-sama's manor!"
"An emergency message from Seiren?" Guren bit back the retort that had been simmering on his tongue, setting his brush aside with a frown. "What kind of message? My brother seals himself away and now this? Explain yourself - what has he to say?"
"No, sir. The message isn't from him, sir," the young boy shook his head hastily. "It's something...it's from..."
"What kind of common-born idiot leaves a lady waiting before running off around the halls like a mad creature?"
The unmistakeable sound of Shouko's voice penetrated the conversation, and Guren's brows knitted together as his sister-in-law entered the room, his consternation growing as he registered her unusually dishevilled appearance. She was robed in her usual fine fabrics, but instead of smooth, immaculate cream the cloth was dusty and torn around the edges, and her sleek dark hair had come loose from its elaborate ties, large sections hanging loose and unfettered around her face. It was the first time in the whole of their acquaintance that Guren had ever seen his sister-in-law with a less than flawless appearance, and for a moment he stared, absorbing the novelty of the sight with some amount of curious fascination.
"Shouko...dono?"
"I want to speak to you directly, Guren-oniisama," Shouko stalked up towards the desk, ignoring the messenger who now grovelled at her feet as she cited her prey. "This is a matter that cannot wait. I will not stay there another minute...I demand you make other arrangements at once."
"I beg your pardon?" Guren blinked, completely at a loss, and Shouko's silver eyes glittered angrily.
"Your brother," she said coldly. "I knew him to be a coward, now I realise it is even worse. His desire to spite me runs so deep inside of him that he even blows up sections of his home to force me out from under his roof! Well, with pleasure, I'll go! I've come here to demand your permission to cut ties with him and for an allowance of my own to live away from that place - in the circumstances I hardly think that anything else is fair! You are my brother in law, and therefore in the place of your late Father, I demand my rights be considered as they should be!"
"Wait a minute," Guren frowned, gathering his wits as he eyed his sister-in-law anew. "Shouko-dono, what did you just say? Seiren's done what...?"
"Blown up a good part of the manor," Shouko said grimly. "I always knew he was a small minded man, but his behaviour towards me especially of late has been extremely unreasonable. He shows no interest in the future of our son, nor in anything else of any value, and now this! I won't stand for it, Guren-oniisama. I won't! I've stood his company these past several years and birthed him five children, and yet this is the way in which he treats me. A hime of my lineage should be treated with some respect, don't you agree?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about at present," Guren sighed. "In the circumstances, I see it will be impossible for me not to investigate it further. However, whilst I am aware your relationship with my brother has become a little strained over the years, I find it hard to believe that he'd go to the trouble of blowing up part of the manor. Father left him that house - therefore..."
"It's true, Guren-sama."
Futsuki pushed back the door, pausing to bow his head towards Shouko before entering. "One of my agents just came to bring me the message - there's been a significant explosion at Seiren's manor, and one wing is more or less in rubble. I've had people dispatched to that vicinity ever since your visit there, and primed them to come through the most urgent channels if any significant developments occurred, and so they have. It seems Shouko-dono's carriage beat my messenger, however."
"Of course," Shouko tossed her head, eying Futsuki with clear dislike. "What would you expect? My servants are far superior to your muddy little spies."
"In any eventuality..." Futsuki returned the look with an impassive one of his own, "her words appear to be founded in some truth. The cause of the explosion is unclear, but appears to have been somewhere in the heart of Seiren's quarters. I can only assume Shouko-dono was as far as possible from that part of the house and didn't venture towards the dangerous area following the explosion, since she seems to be largely unscathed."
"You have no concept of the injury to my nerves," Shouko glowered at him malevolently. "I suppose that's to be expected of one with such inferior blood."
"Yet you seem to have been well enough to mount a carriage and flee here," Futsuki pointed out evenly. "In those circumstances, I trust we can give thanks for your safe escape."
"Hrmph," Shouko tossed her head, but didn't respond, and Guren frowned, turning this information over.
"Has he lost his mind?" he murmured.
"He never had much of one to begin with," Shouko said pettily. "Well? Can I count on you to ensure I'm properly provided for? There's no way I'm returning to that place. You have no idea how frightened I was. Contrary to Futsuki's unsympathetic observations, it was quite a traumatic experience! The whole building started shaking and then a whole wall came down and I was lucky I wasn't killed! Several of my maidservants took minor injuries, and the whole of the west wing is in pieces."
"Was anyone else hurt? Seiren himself? Any of his men? Other staff?" Guren asked, and Shouko snorted.
"Do you think I'd stop around to see if the idiot who caused the whole business had survived it?" she asked disparagingly. "Don't be foolish. Of course not. My concern was to get away from there before he decided to bring the rest of the place down around my ears."
"An errand so urgent that it apparently took precedence over looking for injured survivors," Futsuki muttered. "I have since sent a message back to my people to approach the property with extreme caution and see what they can discover - but from the nature of this, I suspect one of us - you or I - will have to go ourselves, Guren. Being that it's Seiren's manor, nothing else would be appropriate."
"I imagine it best and quickest that I go myself to see the damage," Guren decided. "Seiren's behaviour has been concerning me - it's my responsibility to go."
"You might as well leave him to rot," Shouko muttered. "He never was much use to this Clan anyway...even your half-born errand boy here is far more helpful."
"Futsuki is my brother, Shouko-dono," Guren observed mildly, and Shouko snorted.
"Half-blooded is half-blooded," she said dismissively. "You should not consider yourself so cheaply, Guren-oniisama. You are the son of Senaya-sama, don't forget. There is a significant difference between your bloodline and his."
"There is a second message, Guren-sama," Futsuki sent his sister-in-law a long-suffering look, but did not rise to her provocation, instead producing a folded sheet of white paper and holding it out. "It comes from District One by means of a fast messenger. I think it's from Genryuusai-sama - though to what end I do not know."
"Guren-oniisama!" Shouko's expression became petulant, and Guren pursed his lips, nodding his head.
"You," he said to the scared messenger boy, "make yourself useful. Take a message to my chief of staff and instruct him that all efforts are to be made to accommodate Shouko-dono in the most suitable manner possible. Make sure they also make contact with her daughters - I believe Kinka-hime is still at court and I expect she will be only too willing to offer her mother some support in this difficult situation."
"Thank you," Shouko's scowl was replaced by a sweet smile now she had got her way, and she bowed her head towards Guren in a play of respect. "I knew you wouldn't treat me as disgracefully as Seiren has."
"You are my sister, therefore you have certain rights," Guren agreed. "Please, Shouko-dono, go with this boy. I promise all that we can do will be done for you - including getting to the bottom of this situation."
"I wish her rights included locking her in an underground cell and throwing away the key."
Once the wilful hime was gone, Futsuki sighed, closing the door and leaning up against it. "I'm sorry, Guren, but I've never had any time for Shouko or her scheming. She's as shallow and superficial towards people as ever - and you heard her just then. Whatever's happened at that manor, her only concern was to get herself away safely."
"Shouko is Shouko. Apparently even an exploding house can't change that," Guren said wearily. "For the time being, I want to get to Seiren's manor and see what's happened for myself. It strikes me that this might be another message from the people attacking our Clan, and I want to ensure our brother is not harmed."
"You don't think Shouko is right?" Futsuki pursed his lips. "I wonder."
"What about?" Guren paused, staring at his older brother in confusion. "You dislike Shouko far more than I ever have - you believe her account so readily despite the fact she obviously fled the scene at the first opportunity?"
"An assassin would not have allowed her to easily escape, surely?" Futsuki's brows knitted together. "I grant you, an explosion of some kind within the manor is a possible sabotage, which is why I told my men to approach with caution. However, it's a considerable oversight to allow a squawking peahen to flee the scene quite so successfully. It takes good horses and a capable carriage driver to beat my men back to base - if you're planning sabotage, surely the first thing you do is close off the means of escape."
"I don't deny that," Guren acknowledged, "although to date the assassins have worked very specifically as regards their targets. They killed Ribari, but not Shirogane or the rest of Sixth Squad. Perhaps the target was Seiren, and so Shouko was an unnecessary consideration."
"Perhaps," Futsuki looked doubtful.
"Do you think Seiren has become so unbalanced that he'd do something to destroy part of that house? Despite the state of him the last time we met, I find that hard to imagine. He's always loved that house - it's been his pride and joy since Father gave it to him."
"Mostly because it caused you so much jealousy, I seem to remember," A wry look touched Futsuki's expression. "I don't know what I'm suggesting, to be honest. I'm confused by this...it's so different from anything that's happened so far."
"The attacks so far have followed no particular pattern except that they've come without warning," Guren pointed out. "Seiren may be hurt, Futsuki, and he's my twin brother as well as one of my most trusted advisors. Whatever the cause of this - accident or sabotage - my duty is to ride there at once and see the damage for myself."
"If you're right and this is the assassin's work, I wonder at your eagerness to travel in person. I could easily go in your place."
"Seiren is your brother too, I know...but he's my subject, just as you are," Guren said wearily. "This is my duty, Futsuki. You may accompany me, but it won't stop me from going myself."
But if this is the work of those people, it might very well be designed to lure you there, you know. The Clan can ill afford to lose it's leader, whereas I'm far less significant to the Kuchiki as a whole."
"So it might," Guren's eyes hardened and he patted the sheathed weapon at his waist. "That's why this would be coming with me. I'm already resolved not to lose any more of my kin, Futsuki. Seiren, you, Ryuu...Shirogane, if the poor boy still lives...I won't see anyone else sacrificed as a martyr to the Clan. If I go, I'm going with the intention of finding that man and if he's involved, I intend on killing him."
"Killing...? Aizen Keitarou, you mean?"
"Yes," Guren's eyes became slits. "The Council might want him, but I have first claim. If I find him, Futsuki, he won't leave my land alive."
"We don't have absolute proof of his involvement yet," Futsuki warned, "and if we are dealing with Aizen, he's also meant to possess Bankai."
"I don't need proof. I already know beyond all doubt who it was who killed my son," Guren snapped. "Him and his Shihouin puppet are manipulating us all like players in his game. I'm fed up with dancing to his rules. There are very few individuals in Seireitei who can meet my blade and hope to survive the encounter - do you think me so easily at risk?"
"I grant you, your sword is very powerful," Futsuki conceded. "Far more powerful than the weak blade I command and probably more powerful than anyone else in District Six. The enemy's strength is an unknown quantity, however. It's never wise to go into a fight assuming victory."
"I don't assume anything," Guren ran his finger thoughtfully over the hilt of his weapon. "Seiren has had his blade to my throat in the past despite the disparity in spirit power - I learned a long time ago that fights are not always won on strength, and I'm also aware that, strong as I am, there are always individuals with the potential to be stronger than me. All right - what would your counsel be?"
"My men are there," Futsuki said simply. "In the meantime, you have a second urgent message and since it's marked with Genryuusai-sama's seal, I'd imagine it's of equal importance to Shouko's report."
"In which case, I'd better read this and then go," Guren glanced at the folded white paper. "If it's not one thing it's another."
"I wonder why Genryuusai-sama would be sending you such a message at a time like this?" Futsuki's eyes narrowed. "Do you think something has happened in District One?"
"Something connected with Seiren's apparent desire to turn his house into a firework display?" Guren arched an eyebrow, and Futsuki nodded.
"Maybe," he said grimly. "It occurred to me that it might have something to do with Ryuu."
"Ryuu…." Guren's eyes became grave and he nodded, slitting the seal on the paper with his nail and unrolling it carefully. His eyes widened.
"Well, I think your deductions are some way correct. It's not from Genryuusai-sama at all. It's from Ryuu himself," he observed, and Futsuki's brows knitted together.
"From Ryuu himself? But that was definitely Genryuusai-sama's high speed messenger who brought it...and it bears Genryuusai-sama's distinctive Yamamoto seal. It was apparently sent from District One last night – despite the distance, it's here already at this time today. Even if it went via the toll roads, for a messenger to manage that from One to Six implies some use of speed, maybe even internal Senkaimon. How would Ryuu be able to authorise sending that kind of message? Unless…"
"It was sent with Genryuusai-sama's direct blessing, and using the seal means it's important that we know its contents," Guren returned his gaze to the paper, gesturing for his companion to join him. "Maybe Ryuu felt that using any kind of Kuchiki messenger was risky at the present time. Whatever his reasons, obviously it carries some news which could not wait even a day to transmit. Let's see what our nephew has to say."
"To the honoured Lord of the Kuchiki Clan, Guren-sama, [he read]
"I must write to you an apology for my clear carelessness and defiance, but I wish to advise you of my return from the Real World."
"Real World?" Futsuki's eyes widened in dismay, and Guren's lips pressed together.
"Now I think of it, Shirogane also went to the Real World," he murmured. "It's part of their Senior syllabus, but to think that Genryuusai-sama would send Ryuu..."
He turned his attention back to the letter.
"Although realising the considerable risk of such a venture, I entered into this action by my own will. I did so in order to discover the true perpetrators behind Ribari-sama's murder, as Genryuusai-sensei and I believed those people to be lurking in the Real World. Having offered myself as bait, I must report that I took injury, but thanks to the intervention of a classmate it was not a severe one. Please be advised my life is in no danger, whatever reports may reach you to the contrary. Please also advise Father of the same, so he has no cause to concern himself over my safety. Given the nature of this enemy, Sensei and I both fear a risk of a false report being transmitted to District Six that worse fate has befallen me. For this reason I am penning this letter in my own hand and with Sensei's seal so that you can be assured it's authenticity.
The ones responsible for causing such harm to our family are Aizen Keitarou and Endou Eiraki, both acting under assumed names. The Shihouin who attacked you was Onoe Tomoyuki, acting under Aizen's direct control. There are witnesses at the Academy who can back up all of these assertions with proof. My cousin Shirogane is innocent in any of these affairs and I beg you to reconsider his status as an exile wanted for crimes in District Six.
Please understand that I have no intention of returning to my homeland or considering my future within this Clan unless Shirogane-senpai's name is officially cleared of all accusations levelled against him. I cannot with clear conscience accept matters as they are when such an injustice has been done to a kinsman of honour. I feel, given my position as Seiren-dono's son, it is essential for me to insist on a re-evaluation of the evidence against him. I believe all suspicion will be quickly dismissed when examined under close scrutiny, for Shirogane-senpai is as loyal to Guren-sama as I.
This letter written this day with the knowledge and blessing of Genryuusai-sensei and witnessed by Unohana Retsu-sama, in whose care I currently remain.
With the greatest and most sincere respect, your humble servant and nephew,
Ryuu."
"Someone really needs to tell that boy he doesn't need to use so many words," Futsuki murmured. "Some urgent message when it goes into multiple paragraphs."
"The manner in which it is written does indicate Ryuu himself probably wrote it," Guren said thoughtfully. "Seiren would know better than me his handwriting, so I'll take it with me to the manor when we go to find out what's going on there. I wonder why Ryuu would take such special care to write a message like that and send it by emergency messenger...Genryuusai-sama must suspect that something more is afoot to endorse something like this."
"Aizen Keitarou and Endou Eiraki. Your suspicions are confirmed, by the looks of things," Futsuki reflected. "There's probably good reason for Ryuu wanting us to know in his own words what happened. Maybe he thought because he'd taken some small injury on his idiotic dash to the Real World, somehow that report would come back to us as more serious than it actually is."
He smiled faintly.
"Shirogane is innocent and there is now proof," he added. "Cheeky as Ryuu's final sentences are, it looks as though he's chosen his allies, too. It wouldn't surprise me if this means he's spoken to Shirogane...I wouldn't bet my life on it, but I wouldn't be surprised if both boys are together under Genryuusai-sama's auspices in District One."
"Shielded by the Academy, you mean? That's a possibility," Guren folded the paper, slipping it into his obi. "They won't say as much while they think there's a risk of my launching an attack and demanding his immediate return, but I feel inclined to leave them both where they are for the time being. Kinnya-ojiue said something about the Clan needing the both of them, and maybe he was right."
"Kinnya-sama did?" Futsuki looked surprised, and Guren nodded.
"You talk of strength in District Six, but I'm still not an equal to him or to Father," he mused. "I think he's been counselling both Seiren and I of late, at a distance and without sharing each other's fears with one another."
"Kinnya-sama...huh," Futsuki's expression became calculating. "I'd written him off as a feeble old man wracked by ill health and no longer at the heart of anything, but if you say that..."
"He chooses to exile himself and his spiritual power alike. Whether he is still the shinigami he was is somewhat in doubt given his long years without action of any kind," Guren nodded. "He never speaks of it, and I never ask him. In terms of intellect, though, he's a valuable ally...he has experience that goes back further than mine, and in the absence of Father, he's the only one whose advice I can really seek when it comes to Seiren."
"Maybe you should think about sending an official summons to bring him to the main house, then," Futsuki suggested. "We might find we need that intelligence, since Aizen Keitarou is meant to be a genius."
"I'm considering it," Guren admitted. "It depends on what we find at Seiren's manor - which we must not delay visiting any longer. If nothing else I can convey news to him of his son - but truthfully I'm just hoping to find he's alive."
"Do you think Aizen Keitarou could have been the cause of the explosion at Seiren's manor?" Futsuki demanded. Guren sighed.
"It is possible. If so, it may be too late to help Seiren, though I refuse to think that until I see for myself," he murmured. "Shouko got out alive, and so there's hope yet. When I was with Seiren last, he was in his study, not his personal quarters. If he's still shutting himself away in there, it may not be as bad as it sounds."
"Then I'll go get horses prepared and we'll ride," Futsuki suggested. "Since you suggested it, I'll come with you."
"Very well," Guren acquiesced. "Then let us go."
The scene was eerily silent now, faint clouds of dust stirring occasionally on the autumn breeze. As Guren and Futsuki rode their horses into the front courtyard of Seiren's beloved family manor, it was clear from first glance the scale of the devastation and, despite Futsuki's criticisms, Shouko had probably been lucky to escape the blast unscathed. The west wing of the house was almost entirely in a state of collapse, the few remaining wooden beams creaking and splintered to the point where it seemed unlikely they would keep upright for very much longer. The central concourse of the manor was a mess of dust and debris, the entirety of one dividing wall pulled down by the force of whatever had done such violent damage, whilst the east wing stood largely unscathed, a lonely survivor in a field of disarray.
Despite himself, Guren's heart caught in his throat. From Shouko's attitude he had assumed the damage to be far less serious - but as his gaze ran over the remains of the west wing he realised that it was not simply Seiren's residential quarters that had been destroyed but also the floors that lay below - rooms that had housed not only his brother's study but several meeting rooms, parlours and beneath that the domain of the working staff.
"It seems foolish to suggest that everyone escaped that without serious harm, doesn't it."
Futsuki's grim words echoed Guren's own heart and he nodded, reining in his horse and preparing to dismount.
Huddled on the grass outside, bloody, dazed and confused were a handful of the manor's servants, some sobbing, others staring in fright and disbelief at the chaos that now faced them. As the horses approached, one girl got unsteadily to her feet, hurrying towards them and dropping down in a desperate bow before them.
"Guren-sama! Guren-sama, please, help us! Please do something...!"
"Futsuki, where are your people?" Guren dropped neatly down from his horse, bending to touch the woman on the shoulder and taking in the scratches that marred her young features. "You said you'd sent them here, but I don't see anyone in uniform except a few scattered members of Seiren's own guard."
"Futsuki-sama's men are inside the manor, sir," The girl was the one who answered, tears glittering in her dark eyes. "They've been rescuing people, but there are...there are a lot...and..."
She gulped, swallowing hard, and Guren's grasp on the woman's shoulder tightened briefly.
"How many dead?" he asked softly, and at his question the woman shook her head miserably.
"I don't know," she whispered, her tones full of grief. "Futsuki-sama's men are bringing everyone out...but those who are alive before...the rest."
"Girl, where is Seiren?" Futsuki brought his horse alongside the two, carefully dismounting and looping his hands through the reins. "Your master - was he at home when this happened?"
"Lately, Seiren-sama has not left the manor. He's barely left his quarters," the girl's eyes became frightened. "Nobody has seen him, sir. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"Very well," Guren's eyes narrowed and he thrust the reins in her direction. "Take these and find a safe place to tie them up. You're not to go near the house until Futsuki or I tell you it's safe - understood? There may be deep structural damage and we don't know what caused this therefore it's not worth risking more lives."
"I'll have some of my men escort any who can away from the premises completely," Futsuki spoke in low tones. "Any of Seiren's who are able to stand can help ferry the injured to a safer location - there's clearly no way they can stay here in light of the current situation. We'll need to set up a full investigation - and there are bound to be a significant number of casualties."
"Agreed," Guren nodded his head gravely. "Come on. We'll see more clearly for ourselves what things are like in the midst of the disaster zone - your Kidou should be good enough to displace falling masonry."
"I imagine so," Futsuki flexed his fingers. "Besides, I want to hear the report of my people. Those I dispatched here are men with experience and they've obviously acted promptly - perhaps they've further information that the staff do not."
"If Seiren was in his quarters when the place collapsed, I don't suppose we'll find him quickly, will we?" Guren's words were soft. "That girl's words may be true, Futsuki. If he was inside there..."
"We don't know anything," Futsuki said briskly. "We should both be well on our guard...there's been no report of earthquakes in Sixth District for well over four centuries, therefore the chances of one hitting in this specific area is remote."
"Futsuki-sama!"
As they reached the central portion of the manor, a man dressed in the colours of a Kuchiki retainer, Futsuki's crest stitched across his breast hurried out, his uniform thick with both blood and dust. There was a mixture of relief and consternation in his gaze, and he faltered for a moment, taking in the fact his master was not there alone.
"Guren-sama? But with all respect, sir, this place is not safe. If you are planning on entering..."
"I am perfectly capable of protecting my own body," Guren said acerbically. "Report, please. I wish to know the exact situation and anything you have discovered since you have been here."
The man glanced at Futsuki, who inclined his head.
"Guren-sama's orders are the Clan's orders. There should be no hesitation in obeying them," he said quietly. "Report, please. Leave nothing out."
"Yes, sir," The man bowed again, then, "We did as you instructed, Futsuki-sama, and approached the property with caution. At that time some of the west wing was still standing, but it collapsed pretty soon after we arrived. The east wing has been completely evacuated, along with Shouko-sama, who I believe is out of harm's way. The central portion is mostly steady, though the walls connecting to the west wing are largely missing and some of the rooms there seem unsafe. All of the staff from there have been safely evacuated also - three of our unit have gathered together those who are unharmed and have moved them well into the grounds to prevent them from becoming involved in any further trouble."
"A wise precation," Guren sighed. "Also, a welcome thing to hear - it sounds as though there are more survivors than just the few gathered out the front here."
"Yes, sir. Those are only the most recent to be evacuated," The man agreed respectfully. "Some of them suffered minor scrapes and bruises, but their injuries are minor ones."
"And inside the manor still?" Futsuki's thoughtful grey eyes strayed to the rubble of the west wing, and Guren knew what he was thinking. "What of Seiren-dono? Is Shibata here? Who of any authority can report to us about the events in the house leading up to whatever caused this?"
"All of the house staff we've evacuated have agreed the explosion came from inside the building, sir. Most believe the west wing, and a few are sure that it began in the vicinity of Seiren-sama's quarters," The retainer looked troubled. "There's so much damage that we've not been able to get through more than the first layer yet...two of my men have suffered broken bones trying to rescue folk from the rubble, and we've found what we think are the remains of six or seven guardsmen gathered together in a lower room. Probably they were taking their break from duty - they didn't have time to get out."
"And Shibata?"
"Nobody has seen either Shibata-dono or Seiren-sama," the man responded. "One retainer reported that he and some of his companions helped Shibata-dono to take Seiren-sama to his quarters earlier this morning, but after that is unknown. Seiren-sama has been quite unwell lately, from what I understand - this morning he was found collapsed in his study, and so Shibata-dono took the decision to move him somewhere he could rest more easily."
"Seiren was unwell."
Guren gazed at the remains of the building's wing and let out a heavy sigh.
"There's no doubt that when I spoke to him last, he was considerably under the weather. He spoke strangely and didn't want me to come anywhere near him. You say he collapsed, and was taken to his room?"
"Yes sir." The man confirmed.
"In which case, he was inside there when the explosion happened," Futsuki said sadly. "It seems you were right, Guren-sama. Seiren was the victim of an assassin - I wonder if anyone could have survived a collapse like that."
"Not without knowledge of barrier Kidou," Guren swallowed hard, forcing his attention back to the waiting retainer. "Very well. Continue what you are doing. Send one of your comrades to the main manor and tell them by my direct command to release more men to help with the rescue effort. This is an emergency situation and it takes priority over normal drill. Those who are alive must be rescued, and those who are injured must be treated. So far as anyone else knows, the explosion was an accident - until we know anything otherwise, no other version of events will be tolerated. Do you understand? Your life will be forfeit if you break that command."
"Yes, sir," The man saluted hastily, then hurried off to carry out his order, and Futsuki clicked his tongue against his teeth.
"That was overly forceful, if I may say so. He's a loyal man and he won't talk."
"I'm feeling forceful," Guren said flatly. "Seiren obviously knew something - from his behaviour towards me, I wondered if he was concealing something in order to protect me and the Clan. He said it to my face, too - 'sometimes things are better off not said'. I couldn't get him to confide in me - and now this happens."
"We'll keep looking," Futsuki promised. "Until we have a corpse, there's still something to look for. We won't give up on him, Guren."
"Mm," Guren took a few steps towards the ruins of the house, bending to touch the edge of a piece of torn fabric fluttering on the wind.
"Seiren and I never had the kind of bond that you and I have," he muttered. "We never had the kind of rapport I had with Raiko, before she was sent away. He and I were rivals for Father's affection if not for the Clan itself...and lately we've allowed those rifts to return. Those rifts stopped my brother from confiding in me something that's obviously endangered his life. I don't like it. Rivals or not, we shared a womb."
He stood upright, dusting his hands together.
"If this is Aizen's work, I will have another reason to blood my blade."
"I hear something."
Futsuki clambered up over haphazard pieces of stone and broken plaster, pausing for a moment with a frown on his features. Carefully inching his way around splintered sliding doors and a beam of wood sharp enough for a careless someone to impale themselves on, he hesitated for a moment above a particular area, then nodded his head.
"From here, Guren. I can hear something moving. It's only very faint, but it sounds like rats."
"Do you think this the time to care about rodents?" Guren demanded, and Futsuki shook his head impatiently.
"I didn't say it was rats. Just that it sounded like it," he responded. "Something or someone is trying to get out - with your kidou, maybe you could help them."
"A survivor?" Guren's expression changed and he skipped nimbly over the broken timber, crouching at his companion's side to listen. Sure enough, faint though it was, there was the sound of something scraping against wood.
"Fingers...trying to claw a way through?" he murmured.
"Possibly," Futsuki agreed. "With all this on top of them, it's a miracle if they're actually in one piece - but there's definitely something or someone living down there. What do you think? My Kidou isn't accurate enough to risk it, but yours might be..."
"Tell your men to clear the scene. You too - get out of the way," Guren stood upright, pulling his sword from its sheath and holding it out in front of him. "I'll do my best to prevent flying debris, but there's absolutely no guarantee."
"If you're going to use the spell I think you are..."
Futsuki frowned, then raised his voice, gesturing to those of his men in the immediate vicinity.
"Get back and get down, all of you! If you value your lives, clear the scene!"
"Hadou no Gojuu Hachi - Tenran!"
Almost before the startled soldiers had scrambled out of range, Guren had put his hand to his weapon's hilt, spinning it around and focusing a tiny piece of his powerful reiryoku against the blade to create a minor whirlwind. Though he wanted to blow as much rubble clear of the scene as he could, he was all too aware of the risk of overdoing it. Creating more casualties would do nothing to help the current situation nor the confidence of his shaken subjects, and so despite his anger and his grief he forced himself to control the spell, releasing only so much energy as to push back the heaviest pieces of broken building.
"Guren-sama, stop! Stop, I see something!" At Futsuki's exclamation, Guren grabbed hold of his sword hilt firmly, sweeping the blade through the remaining swirl of energy to break the spell, and, ignoring the danger, his brother hurried forwards, crouching down at the side of something bloody and still on the ground.
"Futsuki?"
Guren stepped slowly forward, catching sight of fingers moving feebly against a piece of splintered window shutter. His heart caught in his throat as he registered what the person was wearing.
"Shi...bata?"
"It is," Futsuki bent to touch the injured retainer with a gentle hand. "He's alive, but having had all of that lot on top of him, I rather wonder how. Obstinacy, perhaps - he's covered in blood and I'm sure there are broken bones."
"Futsu...ki...sama?"
A hoarse voice came from the injured man, and Guren hurried to his brother's side.
"He's conscious?"
"So it would seem," Futsuki brushed some of the blood-caked hair from the man's bruised face. "Shibata, report. What happened? What can you tell me?"
"Where...Seiren-sama...where is..."
"That is a question I hoped to ask of you," Guren knelt carefully on the ground. "You would not have left his side, would you?"
"He was...with me," Shibata was obviously finding it hard to talk. "Such...a bright...light. Seiren-sama...that man...he said it was that man..."
He coughed, wincing as though the movement brought him pain, and Guren and Futsuki exchanged looks.
"What man?" It was Futsuki who voiced the question. "Seiren himself said something to you before this? Then there was a light?"
"That man was...here," Shibata whispered. "He...Ryuu-sama...is...he..."
"Ryuu is quite all right. I've had a direct communication from him from District One just this morning," Guren said briskly. "My concern right now is for Seiren's safety. I realise you're in great pain, Shibata, and I'm sorry to press on you so greatly for information when you clearly are in no fit state to answer my questions. However, time is of the essence and your testimony may be vital in finding out what happened here. If you can, please tell me. What man was here? Who did you see?"
"Aizen...Keitarou," Shibata swallowed hard, reaching out a feeble hand to grasp Guren's sleeve weakly. "Seiren-sama...the light...exploded..."
His eyes fluttered closed, and as the grip on his sleeve lessened, Guren frowned, putting his fingers gently against the soldier's throat. A faint but resolute pulse continued to beat through the man's body, and the Clan leader let out his breath in a rush.
"He reached his limit," Futsuki said quietly. "Still, he was with Seiren and he survived. If we get him to a place of safety - perhaps even within the east wing, it should be possible to treat him, I think. He may then be able to tell us more. I'm not a healer, but despite the blood I've seen men more broken who survive battle and I think he will live."
"Aizen was here," Guren spoke numbly, getting to his feet. "Aizen Keitarou was here, and then my brother's house exploded. There is no doubt in my mind, Futsuki. That man...no, that monster came here to take Seiren's life. He is the one who did this...I will make sure that he pays."
"We have to find him first."
As two of Futsuki's men hurried to carefully gather up Shibata's broken body in order to move it to a safer place, Futsuki's expression became dark. "It bothers me that Shibata asked about Ryuu. Maybe that boy's foresight had some merit...sending that message means that we know he's alive and well."
"Aizen may have brought bad news to Seiren's door, then killed him," Guren said blackly, his eyes glittering with cold anger. "That makes the unforgivable even more beyond redemption. Seiren has no spirit power and none of his retainers do either. Nobody would have seen a rogue shinigami until it was too late to do anything about it - I imagine that's how it was done."
"Outwitted again," Futsuki rubbed his temples. "I mean it though, Guren. We won't stop looking until we find him. Dead or alive, Seiren must be in here somewhere. If he was ill enough to be taken to his bed and Shibata did not leave his side, the only conclusion is that he's still here. We'll keep looking until we know for sure."
Before Guren could respond, the ground beneath their feet began to shake and tremble with a sudden burst of energy, and the Clan leader let out an exclamation, reaching out to grab onto Futsuki's arm as he almost fell headlong into the sharp-edged rubble. The next moment something dark and acrid seared through his senses and he reeled back, gasping for air as the oppressive energy slipped in through his nose and mouth, threatening to block his respiration and stop his heart. A cold sweat began to bead on his brow, his hands shaking and clammy and he struggled to grasp hold of the plaster and wood to stop himself from falling headlong. Time felt as though it had slowed to a virtual stop, the world around him flickering in and out of black and white and the movements of Futsuki's men suddenly happening in a strange, surreal kind of slow motion.
"Guren? Guren, can you hear me?"
It was Futsuki's voice, but Guren could no longer see his brother, and though he reached out his hand, he found nothing but empty air. For a moment the pressure on his chest eased and he managed to gasp in hungry gulps of oxygen, but then a fresh swell of negative energy burst forth from the ruined building, pushing him back against the ground as if he was no more than an insect being taunted by the wind.
Desperately he struggled to get a grip on his senses, grabbing once more for the hilt of his zanpakutou and reaching out with all his remaining strength to the balance and calm that resided in his blade. His weapon was with him. He wasn't alone. Whatever monster haunted this place, they would be able to fight it as they had often fought before.
This thought brought slithers of rationality back to him and he blinked, able to see for the first time that the pulses of dark energy were coming from one single source. It was unchecked reiryoku, he realised with a jolt - raw and angry and full of pain, and he fought to pull himself to his feet, flaring his own reiatsu slightly as a shield whilst all the time focusing his mind on the task ahead. Almost immediately the impact of the creature's power began to diminish, and as flickers of his own perfectly controlled reiryoku darted around his body and his sword, Guren slipped into the mindset for battle.
His brother was probably killed - perhaps in order to lure Guren to this place to face this beast head on. The Clan leader's lip curled in cold derision. Was that all that they thought they needed to take his life? If so, they were fools. He was Guren, one of the few souls in Seireitei to possess Bankai in his blade - and more than that, he was a swordsman and tactician of the highest calibre. He had not spent long years as an adolescent training against his father's formidable weapon for nothing - the monster had taken him off guard, but now he was ready to fight back.
Comforted by this thought, he found control returning to his body. Something lay unconscious at his side, and with a frown he realised it was Futsuki - the oppressive waves of negative reiatsu having proven too much for his brother's weaker spirit power to stand.
I'm not Futsuki, though. I'm Senaya-sama's chosen son, and I have the reiatsu to prove it.
His eyes darkened with determination.
If it's a Hollow, then I can take it down. I may have to use my sword, but I can still take it down. Aizen's experimented with monsters in the past and this is probably no different - but I've yet to face a Hollow of any kind I couldn't swipe in two with my blade. In comparison to the force Father used to unleash when he brought his weapon to Bankai, this level of power is nothing I can't stand. A Hollow is still just a Hollow, and I am not just any Clan shinigami. I am not Endou Shouichi, Aizen. I am the head of the Kuchiki Clan with superior blood running through my veins.
He readied his blade, taking purposeful steps forward towards the being which now he felt certain could not be anything other than one of Aizen's mutated Hollow people.
My sword is there to protect my people, and so I'll use it and I'll protect them. Father taught me how to do that and so I will, dammit, no matter who the enemy might be.
As he approached the figure, he gathered together his reiryoku, preparing to release his weapon into shikai, but as he did so, he caught his first clear glimpse of the being whose terrifying spirit power was still pulsing unrelentingly out across the surrounding area.
The apparition was slender, not as tall as Guren, and with long dark hair flowing loose on the wind. His face was mostly concealed by an ugly veneer of thick chalky white, slashed with red across the eye socket and curved unevenly at the edges. The very top of the grotesque mask was broken on one side, revealing part of the left orbit and a dust smudged inch or so of skin, but the eyes glowed a malevolent yellow, sparking dark energy out into the surrounding atmosphere. Around the creature's body shimmered a haze of fuzzy white light, its apparently pure colour in complete contrast to the poisonous nature of its effects, and as Guren stared at this spectre, he felt his heart freeze in his chest.
From the neck up, his opponent was a Hollow.
From the neck down, the creature was a man, and more, from the shredded remains of his clothing, Guren knew with horrific certainty who that man was.
Despite himself his grip loosened on his sword, his reiatsu flickering and fragmenting into confusion as the weapon clattered to the ground below.
His lips parted, dismay flooding his senses as he struggled to put his terrifying realisation into words.
At long last it came, two broken syllables that fell heavily in the stifling silence that suddenly surrounded the ruined manor.
"S...S...Seiren?"
Author's Note:
So, there you have it O.O. Seiren's back in the plot.
I'm off to scold the Kuchiki family for doing as they please and rewriting my story plans so liberally.
Happy Easter to any who celebrate!