Meifu's Gate ::Fourth Maki::

by VraieEsprit

Juu & Shun are seniors, but already there are those who resent Juushirou's position as Anideshi. Meanwhile, a bloody murder in District Six threatens to unravel 3 generations of Kuchiki secrets - as a figure in the shadows works to bring down the Clans.

61. Truce

Chapter Fifty Nine: Truce

The school seemed unnaturally peaceful.

Mitsuki carefully refilled the mug with warm water, setting it down beside the bed with a heavy sigh. Given the chaos that had dogged them in the Real World, it felt almost impossible that they could all be back at school now, surrounded by the security and safety of Genryuusai-sama's protective aura, but although they were no longer in active danger, Mitsuki could not settle.

She knelt at the bedside, stretching out gentle fingers to brush back the thick waves of auburn hair that scattered across the pillow. Naoko had roused up once since her return to the school, but she had become emotional again very quickly and Retsu had decided it would be best to give her a mild sedative in order to let her sleep. Mitsuki was too perceptive not to understand the healer's own pain in dealing with Suzuno's death and so had volunteered to take charge of Naoko herself, watching over her as if somehow by doing so she could protect her classmate from the fear and pain.

Across the other side of the Healing Bay, the rousing spirit of her cousin comforted her shattered thoughts ever so slightly. Ryuu had survived the trip to the Real World and already she could tell that he was feeling better as the minor dose of hallucinogenic poison worked its way out of his system. Ryuu was a pragmatist and not a dreamer, therefore Mitsuki was confident that he would soon come to terms with what had happened and move on.

Naoko on the other hand was different.

Mitsuki hovered her hand over her classmate's body, reading the torn shards of the girl's aura with a troubled frown. In the years she had known Naoko, she had never once seen the girl upset in such a wholesale way – angry, yes, but never grief-stricken or frightened to the point of hysterics. Although they had studied together a few times that year Mitsuki had not known Suzuno well enough to be personally affected by her death. In spite of that, however, she was sensitive enough to absorb Naoko's feelings and it was impossible for her to view the matter with any level of objectivity.

We fought about all kinds of silly stuff, didn't we.

Mitsuki sighed, lowering her hand.

I suppose there are things even healers can't see about the people they're surrounded by. You cared about Amai-san, and you probably saw her die. That kind of thing would affect anyone – even an Unohana without the capacity to heal.

"Mi..tsuki?"

Naoko's eyes fluttered open, and Mitsuki turned to meet the hazy grey-green gaze with a gentle one of her own. Her companion was still blurry from the sedative, blinking in confusion as she tried to bring the room into clearer focus, and Mitsuki slipped her fingers into Naoko's, squeezing the girl's hand tightly.

"You should rest," she said softly. "There's nothing else more important for you to do now but that."

Naoko did not speak for a moment, then she let out a heavy, shuddering sigh, and from the tears that glittered on her lashes, Mitsuki knew she had remembered.

"Suzuno."

It was just one word, but the depth of the pain in those three syllables cut Mitsuki through to the core.

"I know," she said quietly. "It's all right, Naoko-chan. I know how you feel, and it's all right if you feel that way."

"I suppose you do," Naoko's expression became one of tired resignation. "Help me sit up, please? I don't want to sleep any more. I've done that enough."

"If you like," Mitsuki agreed, obediently helping her companion into a more upright position. "There, is that better? You shouldn't push yourself too much right now. Retsu-sama is worried about you and she'd rather you rested – a lot has happened and nobody expects you to adjust to it right away."

"You're being very nice to me considering we're not speaking," Naoko observed softly, and Mitsuki shrugged.

"That's that and this is this," she responded evenly. "I'm not angry with you about anything at the moment, Naoko-chan. I'm worried about you – just like you worry about me."

"Mm," Naoko's eyes became sad. "You know, I've never wanted to be a healer. Not once. I don't like being around sick people and I've no wish to feel everyone else's pain. But in those mountains, at that instant, I wanted to be able to heal. I never felt as helpless as that…seeing her look at me and knowing that despite my b…bloodline I c…couldn't do anything for her. My name means 'healing child'...but I'm the Unohana who can't heal anyone. I just have to s...see them die."

Her words shook slightly, and Mitsuki slipped an arm around her friend's shoulders, hugging her tightly.

"Nobody is cross with you," she said gently. "You did nothing wrong. Amai-san didn't die because of anything you did or didn't do – the person responsible is the one who caused her harm."

"Keitarou," Naoko murmured. "He said his name was…Keitarou."

"You spoke to him, didn't you?"

"I…tried to fight him," Naoko admitted. "I would…I wanted to…for Suzuno…I wanted to…"

"To kill him?"

"Yes."

"I see," Mitsuki chewed down on her lip.

"You're not going to scold me for thinking that way?"

"No," Mitsuki shook her head. "I got pretty angry myself last night. Ryuu was attacked too – you and Amai-san weren't the only ones harmed."

"Kuchiki-kun…?" Naoko's eyes narrowed. "Someone said…I'd forgotten, but…is he…?"

"He's all right, thankfully," Mitsuki let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know what I would have done otherwise. My sword isn't a fighting sword, but Naoko, last night I felt my Kuchiki pride rise up in protest inside of me."

"I suppose that's your strength, isn't it?" Naoko murmured. "As a healer, you have more than just the desire to mend."

"Meaning?"

"Suzuno healed that Keitarou person's injuries. That's why she went to him – to help him to heal," Naoko glanced down at the bed covers. "I don't understand why but I guess she was drawn to him – the same way as you've said it, in the past. Someone's hurt and you just can't help wanting to heal them…Suzuno followed that instinct and instead it got her killed."

She raised her gaze to Mitsuki's.

"Knowing that weakness, I was worried about you," she whispered. "Being a healer means all kinds of things, and I didn't think…because you were Kuchiki…you could understand the burdens that it brings the same as members of my kin do. However, I don't think you would have dashed in to a situation like that in the way Suzuno did. I think…being Kuchiki…you'd have held back. If it had been you…you wouldn't have been so easily killed."

"The urge to heal is a strong one," Mitsuki settled herself more comfortably at her friend's side, not releasing her supportive hold of the other girl for a moment. "Amai-san was very gentle-natured, too. To see anyone in any kind of pain…must have been difficult for her."

"I don't know exactly what happened," Naoko admitted. "We were patrolling and she suddenly stopped dead, as though someone had called her name. The next thing I knew she was haring off into the mountains, and I was struggling to follow her."

She clenched her fists, banging them down in frustration against the low slung pallet bed.

"That world is hard to adjust to," she muttered. "Following spirit vapour on the wind isn't as easy as it would be here. I felt her release her sword, but it was hard to pinpoint and so I got there too late to stop him attacking her."

She drew a heavy breath into his lungs.

"It's all academic now, though, I suppose. She's dead."

"You don't need to shut it out. You can't hide how you're feeling from me, so there's no need to try and be strong about it," Mitsuki said matter-of-factly.

"It's better than feeling empty and helpless," Naoko's hand drifted to her chest, her fingers spreading out pensively across her ribcage. "I haven't ever dealt with death head-on like that before…maybe that's why I feel so stifled here. I can breathe, but even though I can, it feels wrong. I can't explain it…it just feels wrong."

"Mm," Mitsuki moved her own hand to cover her friend's, extending her senses so that they penetrated all aspects of Naoko's body. "Your spirit is wrenched all over the place and unsettled, so I suppose that's why. I heard you released your sword…but you don't seem to have taken injury from it."

"No. He told me that he'd let me live," Naoko's words became bitter. "Something to do with my gall in facing him and it being a waste of good talent. He hid his real strength from me, and I didn't realise it until he started to turn his power back on my sword…I had to withdraw it in a hurry, and then he just laughed and left."

"That man is someone you shouldn't speak to, not ever again," Mitsuki said firmly. "Amai-san is only the latest in his line of victims, Naoko-chan…he's killed a lot of people, including some far stronger than you or I already."

"When I said his name to Yamamoto-kun and the others, their expressions changed. It was as if they knew," Naoko murmured. "Keitarou…said he was known to Ukitake-kun and that he and Kyouraku-kun had clashed as a result of that. I feel out of a loop somewhere…Kuchiki-kun was also attacked and that was connected to this?"

"The man who killed Amai-san is Aizen Keitarou, a man wanted by the Council for the assassination of Endou Shouichi and the creation of reidoku poison," Mitsuki said quietly. "He's also the man who kidnapped Juushirou some winters back and almost saw to killing him by using him as a vessel for his magic. He's a very, very dangerous man – an exile from the Urahara who's said to be a genius but uses his skills for chaos and destruction instead of for good. That's the kind of man we're dealing with, Naoko – given that, I'm just relieved that you're alive."

"Aizen…Keitarou?" Naoko paled. "I didn't even…the name I've heard before, but so long ago, and I…"

"If you and I hadn't argued, maybe you'd have been better prepared," Mitsuki observed guiltily. "I wish healers had the power to see the future instead of just the ability to react to other people's pain. It'd be so much better preventing suffering than having to deal with it afterwards."

"I'm sorry that we fought like we did," Naoko's tones were soft. "I'm even more so considering that it's you who's sitting here with me. I don't really want to be alone...and you understand that, don't you? I don't have to say it, you just know. You're here at my side because of that, although I know you're worried about Kuchiki-kun as well."

"Ryuu's life isn't in any danger, now," Mitsuki shook her head. "He doesn't need me in a healing capacity, and as an anxious cousin I think I'd only get in his way. Besides, whether we argued or not doesn't change my instinct to help you. At the moment you need my help – so I'm here. I wouldn't leave you alone, not feeling this way."

"I see," Naoko sank back against her pillows, a tired look entering her grey-green eyes. "I wonder, you know, whether Suzuno understood the gamble she was taking. She chose to heal someone…and it struck me that a healer never really knows whether the person they choose to help will turn on them or not. The instinct is just there to help – isn't it? Suzuno wasn't foolish…she was smart and capable and good at what she did. Even despite that, she was taken off guard by someone else's pain and distress, and that instinct cost her her life."

Her gaze flitted towards Mitsuki.

"Would you do that? Do you feel that? If someone is hurt, do you never wonder whether your help might actually bring you into danger?"

"I anticipate that my instincts will bring me into danger often, and it will become more dangerous as time goes by," Mitsuki said gravely. "The place where people most need healers is the heart of a battle zone – and in that situation, it's very easy to become vulnerable. I can use Kidou and I can defend myself, but it's against my nature to actively try to cause someone harm. I suppose the same was true for Amai-san. Whatever her reasons for helping Aizen…she probably felt that the need to stop his pain outweighed the danger it could pose to herself."

She sighed.

"A healer can't always read someone's intentions or nature, not if they're good at concealing their true thoughts," she added. "There are people like Juushirou who are like an open book, and then there are others who are closed and can't be broken into. Sometimes getting to know those people helps to break that barrier down – but in the case of treating a stranger, there's always a gamble involved. A healer has to be willing to face danger, Naoko. Some of us can fight, like Retsu-sama, if we have to - but many of us face danger with less means of defending ourselves. It means trusting in our ability to move quickly and in the support of others who can defend us if the danger arises."

"Suzuno didn't want me to leave her," Naoko's tears trickled silently down her cheeks once more, but Mitsuki was relieved to see that the hysteria had passed and instead it was raw grief now driving her friend's fragile emotions. "She knew I couldn't heal her, and she didn't want me to go for help. I think she knew she was going to die…and accepted it. She just didn't want to die alone."

"Then her wish was granted," Mitsuki said gently. "If that was Amai-san's decision, Naoko, then that's how it was. She didn't die alone – she had a friend who loved her at her side and people who worried about her to the last. Yamamoto-kun was clearly very upset about things last night and so were Michihashi-kun and Souryou-kun. They were classmates of Amai-san's since First year – I think she'd have been happy that Yamamoto-kun insisted on tending to her himself even though he couldn't bring her back to life."

"She was…a very easy person to love," Naoko reached up to brush her tears away. "It would have been better for the Clan as a whole if I'd been the one killed."

"You shouldn't say things like that," Mitsuki grasped her companion by the shoulders, giving her a gentle shake. "Nobody would be happy if you died, and you shouldn't think they would be."

"No…but…instead of Suzuno, I meant," Naoko shook her head. "Suzuno was a proper healer with a future in the Clan squad and a lot of respect among the family. I…I don't fit in. I'm not a healer – my sword is in conflict with the ideals my people live by and I…they're never unkind to me, but I know I was sent here because of that reason."

She offered a sad, bittersweet smile.

"I understand you better than you think," she murmured. "You're a Kuchiki who doesn't fit into the Kuchiki Clan, and I'm an Unohana who doesn't fit into Fourth District either. I know what it feels like to hunt for your own path and to be knocked back or discouraged by the people around you. Being surrounded by empathic, peaceful people becomes trying after a while. I'm not saying the whole of the Unohana Clan is like that, but it's like missing a sense that they all have."

She sighed heavily.

"You have that sense, too," she added. "I never wanted to be a healer, but maybe now I envy you a little for having that skill."

"You always tried to protect me," Mitsuki reflected. "Was that because nobody protected you?"

"The Kuchiki are a much harsher Clan than the Unohana," Naoko responded simply. "They're more judgmental and more likely to alienate someone who isn't the same. You're also a healer, which makes you more sensitive to that rejection than most. Of course I looked to protect you…but I'm not sure it was anything to do with people protecting me."

She shrugged.

"My family may not, but I suppose there will be some in the Unohana Clan who secretly think it a shame that Suzuno died and not me," she added matter-of-factly. "I don't have a path beyond graduation…I suppose I imagined that you wouldn't have one either. I know it isn't easy to break into a different Clan or a different society…and I have thicker thorns than you do when it comes to other people and their remarks. You and Sora always took me along with you, even though I know you and she are closer and it's a bond I wouldn't try to break up. Perhaps I saw you as younger sisters and it was my duty to make sure you were both all right. You're a kind person, Mitsuki. You and Sora both are, but you especially. It's hard to forget the way people sometimes looked at you in the First year and how you pulled away from things and hid behind Sora and I. Now graduation is so close, I wasn't sure you'd cope with the reality of facing everything on your own. Healers absorb so much from other people…but maybe in some of this I'd forgotten that you're not an Unohana healer. You're a Kuchiki one – it's not the same thing."

"Perhaps it isn't," Mitsuki acknowledged. "It's true that this last few months I've come to understand how Kuchiki I really am deep down inside. I don't think it's a bad thing to have feelings or loyalty towards that Clan, either – although I'm not like them, they are still my family."

"I feel the same about the Unohana," Naoko agreed.

"Retsu-sama wants me, too," Mitsuki continued. "When we graduate, she wants me in Fourth. She has plans for me already…and I'm almost certain I'll take her up on them if I have Guren-sama's blessing. I'm lacking in a lot of areas of training, but I have to start somewhere and if I refuse this chance there may never be another. Though it's a frightening path, Naoko, I understand that I can't be a Clan hime like other Kuchiki hime can. I don't want to get married, so it's all right if I feel how I do about Juushirou. I don't intend on marrying him either – for me, being a healer comes first."

"Maybe I'm starting to understand that," Naoko acknowledged, "but I hate that…that someone had to die…before I did."

"Amai-san's murder was Aizen Keitarou's doing. You're not to feel guilt for something that wasn't your fault. Retsu-sama's said that too," Mitsuki scolded her companion gently. "The Council are hunting him and with any luck they'll track him down. Then he can be punished for all the things he's done…and people like Amai-san won't have died in vain."

"I need to speak to the Council, don't I? I need to give them my evidence."

"Not for now. For now you need to rest," Mitsuki shook her head. "Nobody but Retsu-sama, Sensei and I are allowed to visit you, and Retsu-sama seems keen to keep Sensei away if she possibly can. Anything you want relayed, you can relay to us and we'll pass it along – when you're fitter, you can speak to who you like, but till then…"

She paused, offering a faint smile.

"Amai-san would prefer it that way, I think," she concluded. "She cared for you and she wouldn't have wanted you to suffer unnecessarily for her sake."

"I suppose she would," Naoko acknowledged. "All right. I suppose I couldn't do it right now without losing my composure completely."

"Nobody expects you to swallow your grief. It's better to work through it as it comes," Mitsuki advised.

"That's probably the thing that frightens me the most about it," Naoko sighed. "I can't look at it rationally at the moment, but I…I'll try."

She reached out a tentative hand to grasp Mitsuki's once more.

"Thank you for being here with me. I'm grateful. You didn't have to…given the last conversation we had, I thought that we'd never speak on terms again, but I guess I was wrong."

"I think…we both understand more than we did," Mitsuki said thoughtfully. "Maybe we have Amai-san to thank for that."

"Maybe we do," Naoko smiled through the tears that once more had begun to fall. "She would have liked that, I think. She kept urging me to talk to you and to try and see it from your point of view…I wouldn't listen, but I think she'd be satisfied if she knew her…if she knew that we had begun to talk as a result of…"

She faltered, and Mitsuki nodded her head, understanding the things her companion couldn't say.

"You should think about what kind of path you want to follow, too," she said quietly. "I'm resolved to being a healer – if Guren-sama will let me, I'll begin as soon as I graduate. You've already said you have no future in Fourth squad…maybe you need to consider speaking to Retsu-sama in the same vein."

"Maybe." Naoko conceded. "Probably I've been thinking that way too, only I've been afraid to actually do it. It's an admission that I don't and can't belong with the people who raised me…I suppose I'm guilty of imposing that thought onto you too."

"A little, perhaps," Mitsuki agreed, "but you still worried about me. And conversely, your interfering where Juushirou was concerned had a positive outcome too. I've spoken to him honestly and openly about everything – my plans, my feelings, and how we'll probably be parted come graduation, and he's accepted it as a good friend should. Having you looking out for me isn't entirely a bad thing…so long as you realise I'm not the child I was when I first came here, and I…I have my own mind."

"Are we friends again, then?"

"I would say so."

Mitsuki clasped Naoko's hand in hers, inwardly feeling relieved. "Sora will be happy when I tell her…but I'm glad too, to tell you the truth. I didn't think we'd find any common ground to meet on after the last conversation we had, but I don't really like being at odds with people. In a situation like this, too, we have real enemies to contend with. Fighting among ourselves is unhealthy and bad for team morale."

"This has become our fight as well, hasn't it?" Naoko rubbed her chest absently, settling herself more comfortably on her pillows. "It isn't just the Council's battle, but with last night, it's ours as well. I don't suppose that it's the last time we'll hear the name Aizen Keitarou."

"I don't suppose it will be," Mitsuki agreed with a sigh. "With any luck, though, our part in this particular conflict is over. Losing Amai-san is far too heavy a blow already…I hope that the Council can deal with it from this point on."

---

Juushirou made his way slowly along the corridor that led away from the Headmaster's office, his brow creased and his expression one of deep thought. It was a full day and night since their adventures in the Real World had led them to flee through the Senkaimonfor safety in District One, and though all classes for the Senior year were still suspended, all around him the other students were still going about their scheduled lessons as though nothing at all had changed. That morning Genryuusai had summoned him, but their conversation had not dwelt on the subjects they had discussed the day before - instead the old man had advised him that both Naoko and Ryuu were doing well and that he was at liberty to tell the rest of the class that they were both expected to make a full recovery.

Of Suzuno had been said nothing.

For Juushirou, the past twenty four hours had been an ordeal. The death of one of his classmates had been hard enough to stomach, but although he was grieved for Suzuno's family, his mind had been drawn to quite another matter.

Aizen Keitarou.

His eyes narrowed as he remembered the conversation in the forest.

He came out of nowhere, and he didn't expect a fight. He thought he knew me well enough that he didn't have to defend himself in my presence - and he was right. He read me perfectly. Is that because he's a genius, or because part of his sword's power really is still sealed inside of me?

He put a hand to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his beating heart. After the battle in District Seven, he knew that the organ had been seared right through by the ghostly manifestation of Shunsui's wakizashi blade, and then restored to its full health by the gentle healing barriers of the girl who had since become an integral member of his family. Of the event in question he remembered nothing - from a conversation with Keitarou to waking up in the Endou manor there was nothing but a black empty space. He had never troubled himself about those memories before, but now, in light of Genryuusai's warning he found himself fearful of them, wondering what forbidden secrets that stretch of time might contain.

Enough to make Shunsui look that way and take his blade to someone else...?

Juushirou sighed heavily, shaking his head as if to clear it. He didn't remember, and he wasn't going to fall into Keitarou's trap by trying to - that much he had resolved the moment the scientist had left the scene. Yet even though he had decided that, his mind still strayed to that past encounter, and with a jolt he realised that this too had been part of Keitarou's manipulative plan.

Out of sight, out of mind - but once drawn to mind, impossible to ignore.

Suzuno's death had made him realise that had really not known anything at all about the man who almost three years ago had lured him into the snows. Keitarou had told him everything and nothing with every conversation...and though Juushirou knew him capable of murder, he had not perceived that the scientist who had generally treated him with good humour and respect had the ruthlessness to slay an innocent girl who had simply strayed across his path.

Was it because she went to heal him? If it was, that makes it twice as unforgivable.

Someone who could kill without a second thought...both he and Shikiki had spent time in that man's company, but in the end it had been Shunsui who had understood his ways the best.

He clenched his fists.

I was naive again. Shunsui warned me, but I dismissed it. I knew Keitarou killed Hirata's grandfather, but Shouichi-sama was ruthless and did evil things, and so maybe in my mind I tempered that fact with the way Keitarou's family were treated by the Endou. That was still life and death, though. Sensei said as much to Enishi - a life is a life, and that it makes no difference what kind of life that is. Keitarou was capable of killing for personal gain. Probably Shouichi-sama's death also served as personal gain - even if there was an element of revenge in that action.

I need to learn from this. I must learn from it! In the Gotei, I won't have Shunsui always there to watch my back. He'll have his own things to see to running Eighth.

I think...he's ready for that. From how they spoke in Sensei's office, it's as though Genryuusai-sensei also sees things that way, whereas I'm still a long way from the mark. What was that about Shunsui's sword as a future concern? What has Sensei entrusted to Shunsui that he hasn't told me? Maybe it's simply a case that Shunsui's past makes him more able to clearly see the future...but...I don't want to always be the protected instead of the one who protects.

"Anideshi?"

At the sound of the girl's voice, Juushirou paused, turning to gaze quizzically at the anxious junior student who out of nowhere had appeared in his slipstream. Books clasped tightly to her chest, and her blue eyes big with consternation was Kaoru, Shunsui's young deshi who had helped to rescue his sword that night he had faced the storm. Remembering that evening made Juushirou realise how little time had truly passed since the start of the Senior year, but the way he felt right then it could have been an entire lifetime ago.

"Anideshi, can I speak to you, please?"

Kaoru's expression was apprehensive, and Juushirou was sure that she could tell from his body language that although he had physically returned to the school, mentally he was a long way away from it. However, something in the girl's appeal forced himself to manage a faint smile, nodding his head and leaning up against the wall of the corridor.

"You may," he agreed quietly. "What's troubling you, Nagasata-san? Are you looking for Shunsui? If so, I don't imagine he'll be around to train with you today or tomorrow - we've only just come back from our assignment, and..."

"It wasn't that," Kaoru cut across him, shaking her head hastily. "I know you're all very busy, and...but..."

She faltered, chewing on her lip, and Juushirou eyed the young girl keenly.

"What's on your mind, then?" he asked curiously. "If it's something you need to report, probably you should take it to one of the staff."

"No...no," Kaoru shook her head again, clearly unsure about how to word her next question. "It's just...I...when you came back from the...your mission..."

She trailed off again, fingering a loose lock of dark hair absently between her fingers.

"People are saying someone was killed in the Real World," she whispered. "Did a Hollow...was it really...is it true?"

"Who told you that?" Juushirou only just managed to keep the sharpness from his tones, and Kaoru flinched back.

"It's not my business," she admitted, her cheeks flushing red. "My friend Sakura-san heard Souryou-senpai and Michihashi-senpai talking about it. She shouldn't have heard anything, but Sakura-san likes Souryou-senpai, and she thought he seemed upset."

"I see," Juushirou sighed, rubbing his temples. "Listen, Nagasata-san. Until a formal announcement is made, you shouldn't run around asking questions. I don't know exactly what your friend heard, but I...I'm not going to discuss the Real World with anyone until I have leave to do so. Understand?"

"Y...yes," Kaoru hugged her books more tightly. "I...I know that it's not my place to ask any of this. Just I saw...Kyouraku-senpai a little while ago. He was...in the gardens and he was by himself. Well, he had his swords...laid out on the grass, like he was...I don't know what he was doing. I don't think he was training...and he seemed...really sad."

She stifled a shiver.

"It's cold outside," she added. "I thought about going up to him, but he...didn't seem to want any company. I don't think he even knew I was there. I haven't seen him like that before, and so I suppose I was worried...about him. Did something happen to Kyouraku-senpai in the real world?"

At the earnest expression in his junior's eyes, Juushirou's gaze softened and he rested his hands lightly on her shoulders.

"Shunsui would probably be happy to know you're worried about him," he said gently. "There's no need, though. He didn't take any harm from our trip. On the contrary, he was...his skills were very useful."

"Really?" Kaoru looked doubtful. "That's not how he looked. His face was...as though something bad had happened."

"Mm," Juushirou crossed the hallway to the window, leaning against the sill as he gazed out across the grounds. Sure enough, in the empty expanse of green he caught sight of a flash of white and blue and he frowned, knowing that his companion had been right.

Worrying about me? Worrying about Amai-san's death? Worrying about Keitarou's next move? Kaoru's perceptive. I wonder if she read the change in your aura because she's so used to training with you, or because you've become more than just a shishou where she's concerned.

He turned back to face her.

"Shunsui works things through in his own way and his own time. He doesn't talk about things unless he feels that he needs to, and most of the time he prefers not," he said evenly. "That's what I've learned about him from four and a half years as his friend. Whether something's on his mind or not, neither you nor I will get it out of him until he's ready. Try not to worry too much, Nagasata-san. Unlike you or I, he has the burden of the Kyouraku Clan's shinigami squad in his future, and so he can't afford not to take things seriously from time to time."

"Maybe," Kaoru sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "I know he's an important person...but Anideshi, when he's training with me, he never acts like that. He's always friendly and he always explains everything if I don't understand, no matter how stupid I might be. I know I'm only a Fourth year, but I'd like...he's helped me so much so far, and I wanted...if he was all right..."

She trailed off, her cheeks pinkening, and despite the situation, Juushirou offered her a rueful smile.

"Then I promise you I'll talk to him, and make sure all is well," he said evenly. "All right? I'll tell him that he shouldn't cause his students such concern - you've plenty of your own things to be focusing on without that."

"Thank you," Kaoru's cheeks reddened further, but relief flickered in her eyes and she bowed her head, thick tail of dark hair falling over her shoulder. "I know it's silly, but I didn't like it, seeing him looking sad."

With that surprising statement she turned on her heel, fleeing down the corridor, and Juushirou's lips pressed together pensively as he interpreted her words.

Shunsui's capable of being a leader and a teacher. He's capable of inspiring devotion of that level in a junior that before this year he didn't even know. He's capable of reading things that I can't read into situations and yet he's always patient with my idiocy when I race on ahead and don't see trouble coming. Even now...

His gaze flitted back to the window.

He said that he was going to do some private training with Katen Kyoukotsu and I didn't think anything of it - truthfully, I suppose I wasn't wanting to. We've all had so much on our minds since coming back that we're all going to deal with it in our own ways. I wonder if what Sensei said is something to do with this as well. Did I drag up painful memories for him by talking so carelessly about that fight in the snow? I really don't know what kind of impact that had on him, but if it was enough to make him hate Keitarou that much...

Resolution flickered in his hazel eyes.

I'll go talk to him. I should have done it already, but I haven't. Since we spoke to Sensei, both of us have avoided the issue – but no more.

His mind made up, he turned on his heel, heading away from the stairs that led to the Senior annexe and instead pushing open the doors that led out into the school grounds. A bitter wind whipped through his body as he stepped outside, but he paid it no attention, hurrying instead along the winding pathway that led to the furthermost expanse of green. In the summer, most of this area would be covered in students of all ages as they made the most of the good weather, but once autumn had taken hold District One was a less pleasant place to spend time outside in, and Juushirou suppressed a shiver, hugging his hakamashita to his body as he took a short cut through a patch of trees to where he knew his friend was.

As he pushed his way through a particularly dense thicket, something else assailed his senses and he paused, resting his hand against a tree as he tried to place the sensation. It had been familiar, raw and determined...but try as he might he could not place it.

Shunsui momentarily forgotten, he slipped through the woodland and out the other side, glancing all around him for any sign of company. At first he saw nothing, but then he caught the glint of silver in the hazy sunlight as a distinctive blade came flying through the undergrowth, embedding itself in the tree that stood right ahead of him.

Juushirou stopped dead, his heart skipping a beat at how close it had come to shearing through the flesh of his ear, and as he struggled to regain his composure he heard the sound of footsteps. Instinctively tensing, he swung around, surprise glittering in his hazel eyes as he registered the source of the noise.

"Yamamoto...kun?"

"Ukitake?" Akira's eyes narrowed, and he let out a sigh. "What are you doing here? Are you trying to be target practice for my weapons? I came all the way out here so as nobody would disturb me."

"Why are you throwing short-swords around anyway?" Juushirou was indignant. "That could've impaled me - haven't we had enough blood shed already this week?"

"You shut up!"

Before Juushirou knew what was happening, a thick fist had grasped itself around the collar of his hakamashita, and he found himself pushed bodily up against the broad trunk of the tree, Akira's free hand retrieving the embedded weapon with a determined tug. "That kind of comment only proves exactly why you - and those like you - are never going to be ready for the Gotei."

"Why?" Juushirou shoved his classmate away, rubbing his throat as he stifled the urge to cough. "Because I don't think throwing weapons around school grounds is a good idea?"

"I wasn't throwing anything! The blade slipped my grip, that's all," Akira bristled. "I told you - I came this far out so that nobody would get in my way. I didn't ask for a self-righteous lecture on what is and isn't a good idea in school grounds, Anideshi!"

"Then keep a better hold on your blades!" Juushirou shot back. "You of all people should realise that everything is every which way right now!"

"Better than you do," Akira spat out. "You barely even knew her...you have no idea whatsoever."

"She was my classmate, and so I care," Juushirou said flatly. "I didn't have to be close to her to be bothered or upset by it. In the circumstances, though, I don't suppose Sensei would approve of you throwing your swords around, whether accidentally or on purpose. That being the case..."

"This isn't about what's acceptable at school, damn you!" Akira's reiatsu prickled around his body, his eyes full of frustration and anger. "This isn't about the Academy! You don't understand, do you? This place is no more safe than anywhere else when it comes to a war!"

"A...war?" Juushirou's brows knitted together.

"You're not so foolish as to assume it's over, are you?" Akira rammed the tanken into its sheath, folding his arms across his chest. "You're not going to tell me we're just students, and so this doesn't concern us? You won't make me listen, if all you're going to tell me is that we ought to leave things like this to the grown ups and mind our own business. We're not children now, Ukitake. The Real World trip was proof of that."

"I don't think I ever said that we were," Juushirou said indignantly. "Don't talk to me as though all I know of the Clans is what I've learned within these walls, Yamamoto-kun! I'm not your social equal and I won't ever pretend to be, but I'm your academic equal - and I understand better than you think everything that's going on!"

"Really?" Akira snorted. "I find it hard to believe. If you did, you'd be here training with your sword too. If you knew, you'd be prepared. You'd know that it's far from over. Suzuno's death isn't going to be shoved under the carpet. Things haven't finished yet."

"I know that just as well as you do!" Juushirou exclaimed. "No, maybe I know it better than you do! You say I barely knew Amai-san, and it's true. I never did know her, not like you and Souryou-kun and Michihashi-kun knew her. But I do know things that you don't know. I've never believed that the Academy, or District One, or any of that is safe from danger. On the contrary, I know that it's not. The enemy that Seireitei are hunting down is the kind of enemy who strikes where he wants to strike and takes no prisoners when he does."

"Self-righteous and stubborn," Akira growled. "Get lost, will you? You're not going to waste my time with another of your idealistic lectures on how the world should be."

"Training with your sword is a waste of time too."

"What the hell makes you think that?" Akira snorted. "Swords are our main weapons. If we don't have those..."

"The enemy we face is one who uses his brains, not his sword," Juushirou spoke softly, a weary note in his voice. "I know that better than anybody, Yamamoto-kun. I know this enemy better than you do. You can train as much as you like, but you won't take his life that way. You'll not avenge Amai-san's death by wielding your blade in his face."

"What do you think you know?" Akira demanded, reaching out to grasp Juushirou by the wrist, and Juushirou sighed, carefully prising his classmate's grip free.

"I've met him," he said in level tones, "three years ago, in District Eight. And again the other night, when he came to find me in the Real World."

"What?" Akira's eyes became wide with disbelief, and Juushirou nodded.

"Aizen Keitarou is our enemy," he murmured. "His weapon is truth. He told me so himself. He doesn't use a sword to hurt people. He uses his intelligence to fool them instead. Your sword skills are already above his, Yamamoto-kun - but facing him as you are...just like this...it won't avenge Amai-san. More than that...killing Keitarou won't bring her back."

"Why would a District student know anything about a Clan exile?" Akira's expression became one of confusion. "That doesn't make sense, no matter how you look at it."

"I know for exactly that reason," Juushirou offered his classmate a cold smile. "Three years ago, on the night of Kyouraku Tokutarou's wedding, Aizen Keitarou manipulated Hirata's sister and used her as bait to lure me into his grasp. He wanted to use me to fight his battles with, because I'm District and not Clan and yet I have this."

He brushed his fingers against the hilt of Sougyo no Kotowari.

"He hates the Clans, but he doesn't hate strength," he added sadly. "I was a shinigami without noble protection – so he thought – and so he decided that he could make me his weapon. I didn't want to, so once he tried to force me to obey him with abilities of his zanpakutou's release. Using it's manipulative power, he made me fight Shunsui in the snows of District Seven. Shunsui came away with a shattered arm, and I very nearly died."

His gaze flitted in the direction from which Shunsui's uneven aura was coming, and he sighed heavily.

"I don't remember anything about that fight, but Shunsui does," he murmured. "I'm not sure what other damage he took from it, not really, but I know that because of it he's determined to take Keitarou down. In the Real World, neither he nor I knew Ryuu was in danger because Keitarou accosted me and Shunsui got in his way. Shunsui wounded him...and for that reason...maybe..."

"Suzuno was murdered," Akira's eyes darkened with anger. "Suzuno went to heal someone, and instead she met with the devil - that's what you're saying?"

"I'm saying that I understand the gravity of what's at stake," Juushirou said simply. "Shunsui isn't to blame for Amai-san's death, but whether it did or didn't happen that way, I know he'll feel some responsibility for it. He'll remember the fight in the snow, and it'll hurt him. I don't like that, especially knowing that Keitarou came after our class for two reasons. He didn't come to kill Amai-san or to bring Shikibu-san down. He came to kill Ryuu, and he came to take me captive again. He failed in both objectives...so he'll almost certainly come again."

A hollow smile touched his lips.

"Ryuu and I are both currently at the Academy," he concluded. "Why would I ever believe this to be a safe place?"

Akira was quiet for a long time, then,

"All of that is true?"

Juushirou inclined his head forward.

"All of it," he said gravely. "I'll swear to it on Sougyo's blade if you like – everything I've said to you is the truth."

He sighed heavily.

"Sensei would probably be cross with me for telling you any of it," he reflected. "He doesn't like us talking about Keitarou even between ourselves. With Amai-san's death, though, it's no longer something that can be kept secret. Just like three years ago, it's moved beyond a point where ignorance can protect people. On the contrary, ignorance can kill people…I understand that far too well, and Amai-san's death seems to be further proof of that fact."

"Ignorance is dangerous, but further training is pointless?" Akira frowned. "If I believe you at your word, your combat logic still doesn't add up."

"Aizen Keitarou's sword possesses Bankai," Juushirou said frankly. "He used that Bankai once to make Endou Shouichi-sama kill himself, and once to make me attack Shunsui. You probably consider yourself above me in terms of ability, but whether you can honestly say you're superior to an experienced leader of a Clan is probably another matter."

He sighed.

"Keitarou can't just leave things as they are, either," he added. "I have something he wants, and therefore he probably won't leave me alone until he reclaims it. The last thing I want is for people to get in his way by behaving hot-headedly and trying to take revenge. I've done enough hot-headed things in my time here and none of them have ever ended up as I thought. Normally they result in burdening people I care about. There are a lot of things I believe in doing or changing and maybe you're right when you call me idealistic – I don't want to lose that, because it's part of who I am and my reason for holding this sword. That said, though, I understand things other people don't where Keitarou is concerned…knowing those things means that I don't want to see other people dragged into his spider's web."

"You have something he wants?" Akira was nonplussed, and Juushirou nodded, rubbing his hand absently across his chest.

"Apparently," he agreed. "Something I wasn't even aware I had until all of this began, and something I don't know how to give back, even if it was safe for me to try and do so."

He groaned, rubbing his brows.

"If this is a war, we're involved in it. Some of us were before we even knew it," he said softly. "Amai-san was a friend of yours and I understand her death has hurt you. I also know that in the Real World you helped Kai and you were a good group leader...you're a good shinigami and I won't speak against your ability. What you don't know is Keitarou, and just because you and I don't get along, it doesn't mean I want to see you his next unwitting victim. Amai-san didn't know what to expect and paid with her life. I don't want anyone else to do the same."

Akira did not speak for a moment, apparently digesting this. A long silence followed, and Juushirou was about to call it quits and return to his earlier errand when his classmate spoke.

"Suzuno's death happened on my watch," he said quietly. "It's not my fault, but as group leader I take some responsibility for not bringing everyone back alive."

"I know," Juushirou looked surprised. "That's why you're training now, isn't it? I would be the same."

"Then you know it's pointless to tell me to keep out of it."

"I know that, too," Juushirou agreed.

"Then you might as well save your breath," Akira muttered. "I'm a Yamamoto of First degree and this is my family's land. Anything that happens here is more of an insult to me and my family than it even affects you or yours. That's the part you don't understand. I couldn't do anything in the Real World – nobody could. But if he comes here…"

"Sensei hasn't trained you so that you can kill yourself recklessly chasing up family pride," Juushirou's words were scathing, and despite himself Akira paused in his tracks. "If you think your skills are cheap enough that it's worth you dying in order to use them, then be my guest – but it won't do you or your family any good if you get slashed to pieces before you even graduate."

"Suzuno is dead, dammit!" Akira growled, anger flaring in his dark eyes once more and he lunged for Juushirou's throat again. This time, however, the District boy had anticipated him and he neatly side-stepped out of the way.

"Amai-san was a gentle person. Everyone says that," he said quietly. "Do you think she'd be happy if you killed yourself trying to avenge her?"

"That's neither here nor there. The truth is…"

"The truth is that you can't undo what's been done," Juushirou said frankly. "There's no point in throwing your life away simply for the sake of pride."

"You're wrong," Akira let out a heavy sigh, his anger fading as he sank back against the tree trunk. "That's what makes you an idealist, Ukitake. Fighting in this world has no meaning unless there's something driving you forward. If you have something to protect, then you'll fight to protect it. You'll kill to protect it and you'll die to protect it – that's what Sensei's been teaching us, even if you don't understand that yet. Your sword is designed to protect souls from Hollows and you've used it to do that already, but it's also designed to protect other people. Their lives, your life – it doesn't really make a difference. In a combat situation, you have to know what you're fighting for. If you have no reason to fight, that's when you die."

"What's your point?" Juushirou looked quizzically back at his companion. "So far I don't disagree with you, but that's still a long way from…"

"You have to learn the difference between fighting to protect lives and fighting to protect honour," Akira cut across him. "Protecting lives is one thing – but protecting honour isn't just about self-gratification. It's about everything…everyone around you, too. Sometimes you fight so as you don't let down your comrades. Sometimes you fight in order to help them keep heart – especially if you're in a position of authority where they look to you for that lead. Sometimes there's nothing left to do but fight…to defend the honour of something worth defending. You can't tell me you'd never fight to protect someone's honour, can you? Your District family surely aren't so low born they don't know what that is?"

"Don't say bad things about my family!" Juushirou's brows knitted together and he felt his fingers curl around the hilt of his sword. "Insult me if you like, I'm the one intruding on your Clan space with my District values – but leave them out of it. You know nothing about them, so don't bring them into your rhetoric about how wars are fought!"

"There. You did that without my saying anything more," Akira gestured to Juushirou's hand with a shrug. "You'll fight to defend their honour. You just don't understand that sometimes it's the only thing left to fight for."

"I…" Juushirou's anger faded and he gazed at his right hand pensively, loosening its hold from around Sougyo no Kotowari's hilt.

"I would," he admitted. "I just…would rather fight to protect their lives."

"So would everyone who takes up a blade," Akira said frankly. "Sometimes, though, it's not possible."

His expression became sad, and with a jolt Juushirou understood the things his classmate had left unsaid.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "You were…fonder of Amai-san than just as a classmate, weren't you?"

Akira flinched, and then he sighed, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

"All I can do is fight to defend her honour," he said evenly. "That's all that's left. She probably wouldn't like it, but she'd probably expect it of me all the same. We never spoke about it, but she knew…"

He paused, seemingly realising who he was speaking to, and he shook his head as if to clear it.

"My sword is my strength, and I have no other way to get stronger," he said matter-of-factly. "As a shinigami, I'll fight for Seireitei. As a Yamamoto, I'll defend this land. And as a student of the Academy, I'll avenge Suzuno's honour. That's my resolve, Ukitake. I don't know anything about this enemy, not like you seem to do. But I know he's someone I won't forgive, so if he crosses my path I won't step back and let him go by. You understand that, don't you? If not, maybe you should ask Kyouraku…from what you said about it, he does."

"I understand," Juushirou nodded his head thoughtfully. "I don't think it's something you should be doing alone, though. As students of the Academy, we shouldn't compete or worry about status. You and I especially…aren't we fighting on the same team? We don't have to like each other or agree with each other, but we do both want a stable and peaceful Seireitei, right? That's one area we can both agree on, so we should focus on that and put everything else aside. There are now twelve members of Senior Class, Yamamoto-kun. In order that those twelve graduate and go on to bolster the Gotei, let's work together from hereon in."

He hesitated for a moment, then he held out his hand, and Akira stared at it in surprise. Then he snorted, reaching out to grab it roughly in his own paw.

"I don't like you and I probably never will," he said gruffly, "but I hate the person who killed Suzuno even more. I won't forgive them, Ukitake. If you don't forgive them either, that makes us allies. This may not be directly our war yet, but we're on the fringes of it being and there's a chance that things could still happen. If the Council can't stop it now, in the future it'll be up to us to do. So we should do it. All of us."

His eyes narrowed, and he released his grasp.

"That said, don't expect me to fight with you unless the person we're fighting figures higher on my hitlist than you do," he added acerbically. "I still owe you for that fluke fight at the start of term, and I don't forget things like that very easily."

"Fine, but we won't have a rematch," Juushirou responded levelly. "You can take it as a fluke win on my part, or a cheat, or anything – I don't care. I suddenly don't feel like fighting with you at all any more, Yamamoto-kun."

A small smile touched his lips.

"So long as we're both on the same side when it comes to danger, I don't suppose I even mind if you hate me. If I know you won't be trying to slash through me from behind in battle, I guess it's all right to leave it like that."

"Likewise," Akira returned. "It's not my habit to tackle things from behind."

"Mine either," Juushirou acknowledged.

"Then we understand each other," Akira observed. "I won't ever acknowledge you as Anideshi, Ukitake. I won't ever consider you my equal in birth or ability and I certainly won't pander to you the way other people seem to…it's not my style. But I will acknowledge you have skill and that you probably are of use to the Gotei. Therefore I'll accept you as my classmate…but nothing more."

With that he was gone, turning his heel and disappearing in the direction of the school.

Juushirou watched him go, a thoughtful look on his face.

Though they had far from made friends, he still felt that something important had been resolved between them that morning.

It's all right if people don't always like me. Mitsuki's said it, Shunsui has…In'you said it too. I had to get my head around it, but in a sense I'm relieved that Yamamoto-kun and I have reached this kind of an accord. Being disliked is fine…being distrusted is a bigger problem. I'm learning the difference between the two. From hereon in I'll probably work with many people I don't necessarily like, and doubtless there'll be some who won't like me. However, if I can trust that they're fighting for the same things I am, that won't matter. Yamamoto-kun is trustworthy, even if he's not someone I can befriend. In the aftermath of the Real World mission, that's sort of reassuring.

He coughed, realising how cold it still was.

Standing still for a period of time isn't good in this weather. I'll be useless to everyone if I pick up a chill.

"What are you doing?"

Shunsui's voice startled him and he turned, offering a sheepish grin.

"Looking for you," he responded. "I understood you were outside doing something with swords – Nagasata-san was worried about you."

"Kaoru-chan was?" Shunsui looked surprised. "When was she outside? I didn't see her at all."

"She said you didn't notice her," Juushirou nodded, falling into step with his friend. "She worried you were upset about something. I didn't tell her anything about the Real World, because Sensei hasn't given us leave to – but it made me decide to speak to you on her behalf. I was concerned you might be worrying about me and what Keitarou said to me, among other things."

"You came out in the freezing cold to make sure I was all right?" Shunsui snorted. "If you were worried I was concerned about you, why the heck are you out here with no cloak on? Idiot."

He grimaced, removing his own heavy cloak from his shoulders and tossing it at his friend. "There. Put that on, else you'll take sick and I'll get yelled at for dragging you out in the murky weather. You look blue around the edges...some things never change."

"I suppose I should've brought my cloak out," Juushirou conceded, wrapping the thick fabric around his shoulders with an appreciative grin. "It was a spur of the moment thing, though, and I didn't expect to be out here so long."

"Was I so hard to find?"

"No, but I got a little sidetracked by Yamamoto-kun," Juushirou pulled the cloak tightly around his thin body. "Aren't you cold?"

"I'm fine. I'm a lot sturdier than you are when it comes to cold," Shunsui assured him. "You surely didn't come all the way out here to ask me that."

"No…" Juushirou faltered, then, "About Keitarou…what he said about my memories and the fight in the snow…"

"I really would rather not regurgitate that particular experience, either in my mind or yours," Shunsui said pragmatically. "You know that, though, right?"

"I do," Juushirou agreed. "I should've realised how much it still bothered you – if it was the other way around, I know it would still bother me."

"Mm. So?" Shunsui eyed him keenly. "What about it, then?"

"I don't remember anything about that fight and I don't intend on trying to," Juushirou said slowly. "There's no guarantee that Keitarou was right, but even if he was…I'm not going to fall into his trap. I won't ever be his puppet again, Shunsui. If I had any doubts before, Amai-san's murder has cast them all away. Keitarou is someone who can't ever be trusted, not by me, not by Shikiki, not by anyone at all. Probably not by Eiraki-hime, either, in the final analysis. I won't let him toy with me a second time."

He paused, chewing on his lip.

"I don't like your sword's shadow technique," he added, "but if having it helps you to deal with what happened in District Seven, I won't say any more bad things about it. Not even if you use it…to do things that I might not like."

"Ah, that," Shunsui slipped his hands into the folds of his obi, casting his friend a rueful smile. "Why do you suppose I trained for it in secret? I didn't expect you'd like it."

"In secret..." Juushirou's brows knitted together, then, "Hang on. You wouldn't have done this during the night, would you?"

"Yeah," Shunsui agreed. "It wasn't a case of not being able to sleep - I just had other things to do."

He shrugged.

"My grades slipped but Sensei overlooked it because it was for Katen's sake," he said gravely. "I wasn't going to tell you this either, but since we're talking like this, I will. Sensei's said to me that my sword...probably has the potential to fight Keitarou's on even grounds. He warned me against using it yet, but I got stupid and didn't listen to him because you were in danger, so there's no way of knowing how much that man understands about my zanpakutou. The fact that I was able to take him off guard like I was indicates that Sensei might be right, though. In the future, for Seireitei's sake, it might be my duty to take him down."

He sighed.

"I don't like that any more than you do," he admitted. "If it gets him away from you and from hurting other people I care about like Hirata and Ryuu, then that's fine. I won't make a secret of the fact I hate him, either - more than I've ever hated anyone, I expect. Resigning myself to killing him, though, that's still a long way off. I know I'm capable of doing it - or I maybe will be, in the future. Actually having to do it...is probably going to take its toll."

"Sensei said that, huh," Juushirou rubbed his chin pensively. "He has high expectations of you...Keitarou's strong."

"He is," Shunsui acknowledged. "That can be a weakness too, though. He didn't expect my attack, and I could have probably killed him there and then, if I'm honest. My aim and Seibara's resolve are both quite reliable."

"Yet you didn't," Juushirou realised. Shunsui nodded.

"I'm not ready to kill someone in cold blood yet," he said matter-of-factly. "It doesn't really fit with my character to go around assassinating from the shadows. I'm not a Shihouin, I'm a Kyouraku. I'd rather not be the one who ends up dispatching him...even more so because I realise it's probably not something I can do yet. Maybe with time, I'll find the mindset to do it and not take harm from it. Right now though that's hopeless. All I remember is our fight in the snow...and I get frightened that I'll somehow become inured to doing things like that."

"I don't think that's possible," Juushirou said thoughtfully. "You're not that way inclined by nature, and it would take a lot to change that. You've said many times how much you hate Keitarou, yet though you had the chance to kill him, you didn't. Maybe the Council will take him and it won't ever become our fight...you never know."

"Do you believe Sensei would've said that to me about my sword if he thought it would end that easily?" Shunsui asked. Juushirou shook his head.

"No," he admitted. "I'm prepared for it to be our fight in the future too. I'm going to hope, though, that that doesn't happen. Call me idealistic if you like, but I don't think it's wrong to hope for better things to happen."

"I really was right on the ball, wasn't I, when I chose the snowdrop as your family insignia," Shunsui laughed despite himself. "Hope sums you up better than any other word...except maybe idiot. That one's a pretty good match too."

"Hey," Juushirou glared. "You're one to talk - I could pin 'layabout' on you just as easily."

"I don't really mind," Shunsui reflected. "There are worse things to be labelled, and that one's at least true."

He sent Juushirou a warm smile.

"We should go inside, and you should take a hot bath before any of the staff see how blue you are," he advised. "They're distracted at the moment, but it won't last forever."

"Probably," Juushirou agreed. "I shouldn't have come out like this, but I wanted you to know that you don't need to worry about what happened before happening again. Keitarou himself said he thought Sougyo no Kotowari was an equal to his sword even if I wasn't ready to use it to that level yet. He may be an evil manipulator, but he does tell the truth quite a lot, too. If he's right about that, Sougyo and I have a lot of work to do. The only thing that I'll take from that conversation with him is the belief my sword and I can be a lot stronger and can protect a lot more people. I'll protect myself too, Shunsui. It'll probably take me longer than it will you to reach the limits of my zanpakutou because of my health, but I'll get there all the same. Perhaps Sougyo isn't the kind of sword who can take Keitarou down - I don't know yet. However, if the time comes when you and your sword have to make that choice, hopefully I'll be there with you and it won't be something you have to do alone."

"You realise you're trying to reassure me by making a pact over one day maybe killing a person," Shunsui said dryly, and Juushirou nodded soberly.

"I am," he agreed. "I don't like it either, so hopefully that day won't come. Just, I wanted you to know that if it did, I'd be with you. Whether you wanted me to be or not, Keitarou is more my enemy than he is yours, now. I won't forgive him for killing Amai-san, nor for making me do things to hurt you, nor for stealing away Hirata's sister and brainwashing her to his ideas."

"You really don't believe there's any redemption where he's concerned now, then?"

"No. I don't," Juushirou shook his head. "Right now I'll say to you what I said to Yamamoto-kun, too - nobody should try and fight this battle or this person alone. Therefore I won't let you fight him alone, whether now or in the future. We're a team, aren't we?"

"Team Stupid. Yes," Shunsui nodded, amused. "All right, I get it. Probably that's how it should be, anyway."

He ran his fingers over the end of Amaki's hilt.

"I've said it before, but I really don't think it's coincidence that the only two people with twin zanpakutou in the whole of Soul Society should be classmates or friends," he added. "Whatever the reason for it, I don't think it was an accident. I really believe we get along so well because of Sougyo and Katen being how they are...and probably that's why I was able to trust you right from the start. I'm a suspicious-minded loner, whether you believe it or not - but I'm not suspicious of you, so it's important to me to make sure nothing bad happens to you."

"I know," Juushirou nodded. "I'm not going anywhere, though. Nor is Sougyo. Whatever the future holds, I'll fight to hold my own and we'll face things together. All right?"

"All right," Shunsui nodded, patting his companion on the shoulder. "Now let's get inside before we both get yelled at!"

---

For Guren it felt as though reality had suddenly become sucked into some kind of surreal nightmare.

The apparition let out a tremendous shriek, the sound sending vibrations of toxic energy surging through the atmosphere. In the ruins of the west wing, surviving beams juddered and gave way, sending plaster, wood and stone tumbling to the ground and creating clouds of dust through which the creature's glowing yellow eyes seemed all the more vicious. Guren's heart stilled in his chest as the monster swivelled its gaze around the scene of devastation, locking those horrific eyes on him as the last one standing in the wake of his spiritual assault.

"Seiren?"

He whispered the word now, only half-aware that he was speaking aloud as the spectre took a slow step towards him and then another, its grotesque, cracked mask glinting slightly in the hazy autumn sun. Despite himself, Guren took a step back. Head of the Kuchiki Clan he might be, with the pride and honour of the most influential Noble family at his beck and call, but in that instant the only emotion his brain could process was fear…fear strong enough to make him turn tail and flee.

The creature opened its jaws again, emitting another blood-curdling screech of defiance and despair and Guren flinched as the unpleasant sound etched itself into his soul. His sword lay forgotten at his feet, the zanpakutou's spirit clawing at his senses as though trying to make contact but it was as though the head of the Kuchiki no longer clearly understood how to speak the weapon's language and its cries went unheeded. Guren's entire attention was focused on the beast that stood before him – not quite Hollow, not quite man.

Yet although the creature's face was mostly concealed by the white mask, Guren knew that this was his brother.

Seiren seemed confused too by Guren's presence, for he hesitated, the glittering golden eyes surveying his companion as if trying to decide whether he was a friend or a foe. There was no recognition in the creature's gaze, but for a brief period there was a lull in the bitter waves of unfettered reiryoku, and, as the oppressive flood of dark energy ceased to pour into his senses, Guren managed to drag his thoughts back into coherent order, hurriedly assessing the situation that now faced him across the ruined estate.

One glance at Futsuki's still body told him that there was little likelihood of this brother coming to consciousness any time soon, and a quick sweep of the grounds indicated that anybody in the immediate vicinity of Seiren's poisoned offensive was now similarly laid out on the ground, their weak senses no match for such a powerful level of spiritual energy. Guren alone had withstood it – but only just, and as he bent cautiously to retrieve his weapon, he thanked his father from the bottom of his heart for teaching him so remorselessly how to face oppressive reiatsu.

Did you expect a day like this would come, Otousama? I wonder if you did. Still, even you could not have forseen…

His fingers closed around the zanpakutou's carved hilt once more, his gaze never leaving Seiren's masked face as he struggled to distance himself from the situation and think rationally as a Gotei Captain should.

Shibata said that there was a bright light.

His eyes narrowed as he digested this, fixing his gaze on his opponent and trying to see him not as his blood kin, but as an enemy about whom he cared nothing.

The stifling shockwaves of dense reiryoku were still causing the few surviving parts of the west wing structure to judder and vibrate, cracks searing through the plaster and sending occasional showers of dust onto the ruins beneath. Seiren's body was pulsing with reiatsu of a high frequency, intense enough to shatter through stone and splinter wood from some distance away. An explosion of this kind of spirit power would be enough to bring down part of a manor house…the miracle was that it had not destroyed more.

Guren's gaze darted briefly towards the surviving east wing, faint relief in his heart as he realised that that part of the building at least had so far escaped the spiritual onslaught.

Shouko was right. Seiren did blow up the manor – although without a doubt it wasn't his intention. Shibata said Aizen came to this place, but what if he did not come here to kill my brother? What if his reason for coming was more sinister – to use his dark wiles to make a monster and have him face me down where he himself dared not? Seiren has no spiritual power of his own – against a manipulator like Aizen, he would have been helpless.

His heart froze in his chest at this thought.

Seiren was hiding something from me. He told me to discard him, and that he wouldn't come near the court. What if he knew that this was going to happen? Aizen might have been here before, and maybe Seiren's been fighting it all alone all of this time. But why wouldn't he tell me? Have we become so distant that he could not confide in me something as serious as this?

He shook his head in frustration, and the apparition cocked his masked visage to one side, observing his companion's movements intently.

Regardless of that, this reiryoku is enough to knock a shinigami of my calibre back, and render one of Futsuki's completely unconscious. Is Aizen capable of creating that kind of a monster?

His eyes widened.

Is this…reidoku?

His hand tightening around the hilt of his weapon, he stood upright, his own reiryokuglistening faintly around his body as if acting as a protective shield against the noxious atmosphere that he now found himself encircled by. As a shinigami of rank and talent, Guren's ability to fight back was without doubt – but that same ability also put him at a disadvantage, for the despair and rage that was rooted deep within his brother's rogue spiritual aura was almost stifling him. Though he could stand and though he could maintain rational thought, Guren knew that it was taking a good amount of his focus to prevent Seiren's dark spiritual energy from seeping through the cracks in his own defences and bringing him once more to his knees.

Whether or not he could release his sword was doubtful, given the amount of focus he was already using just to stay on his feet.

This is another step in Aizen Keitarou's plot to destroy my family.

Rage curled up inside of Guren's heart, spilling through his body in relentless waves almost as potent as the toxic aura Seiren was still spreading out across the ruins of his estate.

You already killed my son, besmirched one nephew's name and brought injury to another with the intention of delivering death. Now you attack my own twin brother, and seek to use him as a weapon against me where you are too cowardly to fight your own battle.

Surely you'd want to see the effects of your handiwork for yourself.

He gazed around him, studying the landscape for any break in the spiritual atmosphere that might indicate a hidden watcher lurking in the shadows of the damaged estate.

"Aizen!" he exclaimed, raising his sword high above his head. "Show yourself! I know you're here…show yourself and face me like a man!"

There was no response, but at Guren's threatening action, Seiren's head suddenly jerked up, his glittering gaze focusing in once more on his brother's body. His whole form tensed, and he let out another blood-curdling scream, launching himself bodily in Guren's direction with a clawed hand outstretched. Guren froze for a moment as the level of poisonous reiryoku in the atmosphere rose once more, then he gathered his wits, slipping into shunpo and reappearing across the other side of the manor. Seiren did not hesitate for a moment, launching a fresh assault in Guren's direction, and the Clan leader realised in dismay that although his brother was no shinigami, from somewhere he now held a sword in his right hand.

When did he…

It was not the man's own custom weapon, appearing far more like one of those belonging to the rank and file of his guard, yet Guren had not seen Seiren pause to take the instrument from the prone body of any of the felled soldiers.

He must have done it at speed – a speed which had been quicker than Guren's eyes had been able to move.

A speed…like shunpo?

From childhood, Guren had had all the spiritual skills, but Seiren had always been the better swordsman. Though Guren had always been loath to admit it, he knew that to be the case as much now they were adults as when they had been young. Where Guren had come to rely on his other abilities to balance out his basic fighting, Seiren had put all his attention on harnessing his own strength and flexibility with the blade, making him a formidable opponent even against a trained shinigami. Since Guren had reached Bankai, he had resolutely told himself that he had proven himself superior – but he knew deep down that he had only done so in the spiritual sphere of battle. If all his shinigami abilities were to be stripped from his body, his sword skills alone would always be second to his twin. As had happened when they were boys, Seiren would doubtless manage once more to get a blade at Guren's throat.

Even as this thought was running through Guren's mind, Seiren suddenly vanished, the landscape distorting slightly through the mix of dust and spiritual energy that hazed the air like a heavy morning mist. The next instant the monster was almost upon him, those gleaming yellow eyes mesmerising Guren with fear as the half-hollow creature bore down on him, emitting a shriek of defiant intent and raising his weapon as though to run his brother through.

It had been like shunpo, yet at the same time, Guren knew it had not been.

There was neither recognition nor mercy anywhere in Seiren's bearing. On the contrary, although he still retained for the most part the form of a man, it was entirely as though Ryuu's father had taken on the mentality and killing instinct of a real Hollow, intent only on wreaking damage and destruction to the enemy in his path. Was it that Hollow instinct that had driven Seiren to attack Guren, or something else? Did this masked being recognise Guren as his brother, or was it simply that he saw a shinigami, and knew to cause it harm?

These thoughts and others poured through Guren's frantic brain as he narrowly managed to bring his sealed zanpakutou up to meet the other's swinging silver blade, using what little spiritual energy he could pull together to force his brother's weapon back.

"Seiren, stop this!" he exclaimed desperately. "This isn't right – you're not meant to fight me! Come to your senses and realise who you are – whatever that man did to you, you can surely overcome it!"

"I think that to be unlikely, Guren-sama."

As Seiren flung back Guren's sword, lunging forward again without the slightest moment of doubt, the Clan leader was suddenly aware of another spiritual presence on the horizon, faint yet unmistakeable like a distant scent on the autumn breeze.

"Hadou no Ichi! Shou!" Guren's fingers twitched together into a Kidou spell, basic yet with his level of training, powerful enough to push Seiren bodily away from him. The spell drove through the heavy atmosphere, driving through the waves of reiryoku and cannoning into Seiren's upper body, forcing him back. In the gap that opened up between them, Guren suddenly caught sight of the speaker – a slender man dressed in unremarkable black, a plain greyish-white cloak wrapped around his shoulders.

He was watching the encounter with a detached kind of interest, thick sandy brown hair pulled back from his face, and intelligent brown eyes calmly absorbing everything as though he was a spectator viewing through a glass divide, completely disconnected from the toxic cloud of energy that lingered low over the manor grounds.

Although Guren had never met the Urahara exile before, he knew exactly who this man must be.

"Aizen!"

He let out a roar, lunging in the man's direction, but before he could get even a few steps closer, Seiren was once more between them, his weapon glinting as he thrust it down towards Guren's heart. Belatedly Guren managed to parry the blow to his left, but the sword scraped across his arm, drawing blood that ran down his forearm and across the white glove that half covered his hand, staining it red.

"You should pay closer attention," Keitarou seemed amused, rather than put out by the Clan leader's anger. "Seiren isn't so easily distracted, so you shouldn't be, either. I expected an interesting fight…a battle for Clan leadership should always be an eventful affair."

"A battle..for…what did you say?" Guren did not take his gaze off Seiren's weapon this time, parrying a succession of short strikes and finally managing to push his brother back, slipping into shunpo and re-appearing some distance away. "Don't try to fool me into thinking that my brother betrayed me, because I know that this is your doing! I know that you…"

"You don't know anything," Keitarou's voice was condescending. "You don't understand even the slightest thing about your brother."

"And you do, I suppose?" Guren's aura prickled angrily around his body.

"Yes," Keitarou said evenly. "I understand Seiren far better than you do."

"What did you do to him!"

"You make it sound as though I did something terrible," Keitarou tut-tutted. "You were the one who made things this way, always forcing him into your shadow. I thought it was somewhat tragic, seeing the forgotten brother whose spirit power was taken away from him. All I did was return it so that he could claim what was rightfully his – although I admit, even I hadn't envisaged a result of quite this nature."

"Make him stop!" Guren demanded. "This isn't his will, it's your will – stop him and face me yourself! Or is it true that you only lurk in shadows and make others do the cowardly things you don't dare to do yourself? Are you really so weak a shinigami as that, Aizen Keitarou?"

"Unfortunately I lack the ability to fight you in fair sword to sword combat," Keitarou said regretfully. "The skills my sword uses aren't skills you'd consider acceptable, perhaps – but if they get the job done, that's more important. It would be just as unfair for me to let you unleash your superior sword combat ability on me when I was denied that training as a boy – would you really consider that a 'fair and even' fight, if I let you cut me down in a battle style of your choosing?"

"Stop playing games with me!" As Seiren came again, Guren's fingers flexed out in his brother's direction, sending a powerful stream of golden rope towards his opponent and wrapping it firmly around the apparition's body. "Making a puppet of my brother is not justifiable no matter what pretty words you use! Your sword spoke for the life of Endou Shouichi – don't pretend you don't know a way in which to fight!"

"Mm. True enough," Keitarou agreed.

"Then come at me and let me show you why I'm not the same kind of Clan leader as an Endou!"

"I already know what kind of Clan leader you are. Why do you think I have no interest in fighting you?" Keitarou shook his head. "You're something of a legend among most of the Districts, you know…the Kuchiki Lord with his powerful Bankai and his exceptional combat history. Your Clan are the only one of the Noble houses to not need alliances with outsiders – no, perhaps you even disdain the idea of allying with anyone not of Kuchiki blood. Why would I want to fight a battle against a man whose skill probably outstripped Shouichi's by five times to one? I have been accused of many things, Guren-sama…but being foolish is not one of them."

"You killed my son!" Guren growled. "Whether you choose to fight me or not, I'll speak for you here and now. Don't draw your blade if you don't wish to – but I will speak for you, dammit, on the end of my sword!"

"On the contrary, I did not kill Ribari-sama," Keitarou shrugged his shoulders. "If you kill me outright with all that self-righteous rage in your eyes, you probably never will know who did, either. I wasn't there when your son was murdered. I was in District Eight."

"Spreading your poison and lies and killing innocent commoners like you had my stable-hands killed," Guren's eyes became predatorial and cold. "The crimes you have committed against my family stack up one upon the next. Whether by your hand or by your manipulation, you killed my son. I know that...you won't convince me otherwise."

"You are surprisingly more intelligent than I had you pegged for," Keitarou admitted regretfully. "You didn't seem inclined to declare war on your old foes the Shihouin, no matter how nicely I laid the groundwork for you. I would have thought you wanted to sharpen that blade of yours on enemies of that nature – but it seems you're more of a diplomat now than you were in the past. I suppose we all grow and change with age…even heads of Clans."

He cast a glance in the direction of Seiren, whose body was prickling and dancing with light as he fought against the restraints of his brother's Hainawa spell.

"I wonder how long that Hainawa can hold him, by the way. It's a bit of an unknown quantity at the moment, the kind of strength your brother has at his disposal. I'd hate for you to be distracted talking to me when he's obviously in the mood to do you harm."

"Release him. Now," Guren's hand covered the guard of his sword as if preparing to unseal his zanpakutou, but Keitarou laughed, shaking his head in amusement.

"I can't," he said lightly. "I'm not the one controlling him. I haven't made a puppet of your brother, Guren-dono. Much as it pains me to admit to it, that is the truth."

"Liar!" Guren's reiatsu flared out around his body, and Keitarou neatly spread a barrier between them to prevent him from becoming harmed. He clicked his tongue against his teeth reproachfully.

"I don't tell lies unless they're of benefit to me. Lying to you now clearly would not be," he said matter-of-factly. "The truth is I haven't been able to use my Bankai since I released it into that District boy almost three years ago now. To control someone of Seiren-dono's current spiritual ability is beyond me at the present time. If you dislike your brother's conduct, you'll have to appeal to him directly. Personally I find it intriguing, but each to their own."

"You did something to him. Don't pretend to me that you did not!" Guren bore down on Keitarou, reiryoku still flaring around his body and his sword. "You were here…Seiren's manservant saw you, and told me that you were."

"I was. I still am, as you see," Keitarou said dismissively, slipping into shunpo and re-materialising just out of Guren's easy reach. "I wanted Seiren to work with me, and so I helped him to release the seal on his spiritual energy. Sadly, it seemed that Seiren had no intention of betraying you to work for me. I visited him three times, and each time he gave me the same response. That being his final answer…I gave up."

"You expect me to believe that?" Guren demanded.

"If you don't, I have no other answer for you," Keitarou responded simply. He flicked a careless hand in the direction of the still struggling spectre.

"That is entirely of his own doing," he added contemplatively. "Your brother's spirit power is particularly unusual – in ways even I hadn't anticipated it to be. It was also sealed, not severed – which implies either that your Father didn't want a son with no spiritual fingerprint at all, or that he couldn't sever it because it was too malignant and too strong. I hoped that undoing the seal might cause it to explode and cause damage, of course – and I worked very hard to drive him to a level where that could be achieved. However, I never had even the slightest inkling that it would manifest itself like this, nor that he'd take his blade and try to kill you without my powers of suggestion. It appears his subconscious bears more negative emotion towards you than any of us knew, doesn't it? I must admit that this scenario wasn't in my plans, but I'll settle for it all the same. I may not be able to fight you blade to blade…but Seiren obviously can, and seems determined to oblige without my needing to use Chudokuga on him."

"Seiren's…own spirit power?" Despite himself, Guren was floored, and Keitarou nodded.

"Senaya-sama obviously had good reason for locking it away," he murmured. "It's only a pity I didn't discover it sooner. I might have had more use for him…but like this, I probably wouldn't be able to control him even if I had the full use of my Bankai. This is a level beyond even my expertise in Hollowfication…a theory I had wondered about, but something I never thought to see face to face."

He smiled, his expression infuriating Guren to his core.

"This world always provides us with surprises," he observed. "Your family has given me some interesting future data…for that you have my gratitude. This place seems to be getting dangerous, however – so I'll take my leave. It's never too good an idea to become involved in family disputes."

With that he disappeared, his spiritual presence dispersing into the muggy air, and Guren cursed, clenching his fist more tightly around his sword.

He came to mock me. He came to mock all of us, believing that he had us defeated. Does that mean he believes Ryuu is killed? Or does it not matter now that he's found a new angle of attack?

As these thoughts crossed his mind, there was a sudden flare of light from across the manor and Guren turned just in time to see his tightly wound rope of Hainawa explode into a rainstorm of light fragments, each blackening and falling like ash to the ground as Seiren's more pernicious spirit broke through his brother's kidou bonds. This time Seiren's roar of anger made the whole of the surrounding area shake, and Guren swallowed hard, understanding for the first time the true nature of his twin's power.

This is what Father sealed from you when we were born. This is what he didn't want you to live with – this is the strength that might have killed you. This is the reason you were always a weak child – your body had to recover from having this locked away inside of it. Now the seal is broken and Aizen's opened the door – you no longer have any sense of anything but this power, do you? Your face is covered by a mask…your reiryoku feels like a Hollow's spirit. It's only a matter of time before you turn completely…and then I will have no choice but to act to bring you down.

He readied his sword, but Seiren was too quick for him, vanishing and reappearing mere inches from Guren's face. Startled, the Clan leader stumbled back, and Seiren discarded his sword, two pale hands shooting out towards his brother's neck with the clear intent to kill. The white-masked face was pressed close to Guren's own, those malevolent golden eyes searing deep into the Clan leader's soul, and Guren's heart froze, his body no longer able to move as Seiren's thin fingers closed around his throat.

The level of spirit power was frightening now, so stifling and heavy that Guren did not know whether it was the pressure on his windpipe or the oppressive waves of energy that was making it difficult for him to breathe. Seiren's skin was ice cold, as though blood was no longer flowing through his veins, and though Guren struggled to focus his thoughts on releasing his sword, any attempt to draw together his own reiryoku was immediately fragmented by the despair in the half-hollow's poisonous spirit.

Seiren had beaten him in battle before, and had put a blade to his throat. The sensation of being defeated by his twin's ruthlessness was not a new one for Guren to absorb. However, no matter how much they had hated each other as children, this was the first time Guren had ever known his brother intended to kill him.

The hands tightened at his throat, and Seiren let out another deafening scream of triumph.

Guren could already feel his reiatsu scattering, breaking apart under the dense pressure of his brother's aura. He was losing pieces of himself, his far-too-sensitive wits easy prey for a monster with this much power. He was head of a Clan, but that seemed irrelevant now. The Shihouin had not been sent to kill him – but this time Guren knew his death was assured.

Whether Keitarou was still watching from the shadows or not he did not know. As he fought to cling on to consciousness and life, Guren hoped he was not.

Father…

For a fleeting moment Guren thought he saw his Father's face, and heard Senaya's troubled words ringing in his ears.

"You fight so much, sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice."

That was all, but the phrase resonated through Guren's body, suddenly carrying a deeper meaning than he had ever realised before.

You knew Seiren was a monster, but you sealed it and tried to move on.

Consciousness was slipping away, but Guren clawed at the fragments of his awareness, determined to hang on.

You knew that there was danger inside of my brother, but you let him live and kept both of us when Clan tradition would say otherwise.

Is this now punishment for that decision, Otousama?

Are Seiren and I to pay the price for the path you chose to walk?