Chapter 9: Piece by Piece

*Please review. Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, just the OCs.*


"Why did you tell her about you guys being royalty?" Ichigo asked once they had left their meeting with the Head Captain.

"I suspect she already knew and was either fishing for conformation or wanted to see if we'd be honest about our intentions of being here."

"Oh, she knew alright, but didn't really believe it," Twitterson said lightly. "The whole family, the whole line even, was wiped out in the '40s from what I heard. 'Course, that was clearly a lie since here you are."

"What do you know about the murders?" Naoko asked.

The British captain shrugged with some discomfort, "You're better off asking Angie, she was a lieutenant, and I was only a Fourth Seat then."

All eyes turned to the petite lieutenant who kept her own eyes forward as they continued walking. "It was just after the end of World War II. Everyone was busy picking up the pieces of the mess in the Living World. Masses of souls needing help to cross over, Hollows to be purified, all of it an exhausting, gory business. One night, an emergency meeting was called, and we were informed that the entire royal Quincy family had been killed by a group of Soul Reapers that had gone rogue."

Remembering their grandmother's letter, Naoko corrected, "It wasn't just some random group. They were Soul Reapers assigned to the royal family specifically. They were betrayed and murdered by those sworn to protect them."

Twitterson stopped walking and looked at his second-in-command, "Is that true, Angie?"

The smaller woman sighed and spared a glance over her shoulder, "Yes, though no one likes to talk about it. Once they betrayed their sworn duties as Soul Reapers and royal guards, the Head Captain forsook them. A manhunt was ordered to bring in each member dead or alive, we failed to find a single one."

"Did anyone deduce the reason behind the murders?" Nemu inquired.

Rosenberg shook her head, "No, the attack was well planned and executed, but no one could think of why they attacked."

"What about names?" Ichigo asked. "Who were they?"

"I'm afraid I can't recall," her bored but apologetic tone. "It was nearly sixty years ago, and I wasn't familiar with any of them before they were chosen to protect the royal family."

Her gaze turned thoughtful, "You can try asking some of the older captains, but I caution you. This can be a touchier subject for some and you may arouse unwarranted suspicion… or anger."


"You really know how to organize, I'm impressed."

Naomi looked up from the papers in hand she was sorting out into neat piles. "I learned a lot from watching my grandfather, and I did use to be the lieutenant of the Seventh."

"I'm sure that came in handy with Isshin," Sakura signed her name with a slight flourish before setting it atop the done pile on her desk. "He doesn't seem the organized type."

The blonde's lips quirked up in fond memory of her former days. "The real challenge was getting him to sit down and work. I'd find the most urgent stuff first, so at least that got done."

A thought occurred to Sakura, one that had been coming with increasing frequency. She idly balanced the pen between her fingers and made her tone casual, "Have you thought about what you're going to do next?"

Order slowly returned to the Fifth and to Seireitei as a whole. Repairs made, buildings rebuilt, and people reorganized to fill in empty spaces brought on by the war. Naomi had done marvelously in helping Sakura restore her Division. The other officers took to her and followed her orders despite her not being of rank. Head Captain Yamamoto had allowed her to return to the Gotei, but nothing more than that. Wherever she went next was up in the air.

"Not sure yet," Naomi said with a shrug.

Might as well put it out there. "Well, I need a new lieutenant, and since you have experience as one, you could be mine."

The young woman's eyes widened and blinked in disbelief, "Me? Uh… well… It's a generous offer, Captain Ishida and I'm honored you'd ask. But… I'm not sure people would be happy with that."

"You mean because you left the Gotei with Isshin and were allowed to come back with little to no punishment?"

While the story of Naomi's disappearance was not as well known in the Fifth as it was in the Seventh, her former Division, people knew the gist of it. She and her captain ran away together in the dead of night, never to be seen or heard of. The reasons behind the desertion varied though the most common was Naomi running from an arranged marriage to be with Isshin, her true love. Sakura nearly choked on her drink before laughing at such an absurdity.

There was also the whispered accusations of favoritism. Those that knew, and Sakura didn't know how many, Naomi was the Head Captain's granddaughter, viewed her mild reprimand for desertion as the old man exercising nepotism. Sakura could understand why people would think that and she admitted it was odd that Yamamoto, a man that lived and breathed rules and order, allowed Naomi to come back. Did he feel guilty about her leaving? Was he glad to have her back and didn't want to do anything to drive her off again?

Whatever the reasons, Naomi was here now. She was a strong woman with experience in leadership, and Sakura was in sore need of a capable second-in-command.

Giving a reassuring smile, Sakura said, "Let me worry about that. I want you, but only if you want to be here too."

Naomi's smile was tentative and hopeful, "I'd like that."


Aside from the different buildings and uniforms, there was little difference in operations from the Gotei they knew. The one difference, though, were the lands and countries this Soul Society governed. They patrolled all of Europe and the eastern half of Africa, a total of seventy-one countries. On average, each division, save the Fourth, managed six countries though some held one or two more.

"Our Division, the Eighth, guards over Belgium, Switzerland, Austria, and Luxemburg in Europe along with Eritrea and Ethiopia in Africa," Rosenberg explained as they walked down the cobbled streets.

"Do you know which Division watches over Germany?" Uryu asked. Since Germany was their family's home country, the captain might know who killed them and why.

"I believe that would be Captain Erhard Wilter of the Sixth Division. Come along."

The entire Inner City layout resembled a clock but with the First Division in the center and the Thirteenth sandwiched between the Twelfth and Second. A broad, and often busy, street separated each Division and led straight to the First. Smaller streets, paths, and alleys wove through each section. Every few street corners bore street signs identifying which path was which.

Ichigo pointed at one and asked, "Now why isn't there anything like that in Seireitei? Do you know how helpful that would be? The streets are a damn maze."

Rukia rolled her eyes, "Take it up with the other captains then. I will admit it is easy to get lost."

Black banners trimmed in silver and emblazoned with a four-leaf clover hung on either side of the stone archway. In the front courtyard, officers were sparring, some with swords and others just hand-to-hand. The captain stood at the edge of the grounds, overseeing. He stood tall and proud, with his hands loosely clasped behind his back. Slicked back, silver hair fell past his shoulders and his copper flecked topaz eyes watched over his men's progress. His uniform was the same style as Twitterson but with black and silver color instead. Spying their approach, he gave a light wave and gentlemanly smile.

"Captain Twitterson, Lieutenant Rosenberg, what brings you and," he looked at Ichigo and the others, "your guests here?"

"Well, these two," Twitterson said, gesturing to Naoko and Uryu, "had some questions for you."

"Oh? Shall we adjourn to my office or perhaps take a walk through the grounds?"

"A walk will suffice," Naoko answered.

The captain led the way with the Quincies keeping pace and the others a few feet behind, far enough to give them privacy but still close enough to keep them within sight. The grounds were empty of people, understandable given the chilly weather. Skeletal tree branches swayed lightly in the breeze as though beckoning them.

"It's been ages since I've talked to a Quincy let alone two, what can I do for you?"

"Wait, how did you know what are?" Uryu asked, immediately on guard. Naoko stiffened at his accurate observation since both of them had a tight grip on their reiatsu. Thus, they shouldn't be so easily identified.

Wilter laughed lightly, "I can sense the difference in your reiatsu. When you have been around for as long as I have, such a skill is like second nature and can be done without thinking." He glanced back at Ichigo, who was talking with Twitterson, "Your ginger-haired friend's reiatsu is quite odd. I don't think I've ever felt anything like it."

"Kurosaki is…" Uryu paused to adjust his glasses and find the right words to say. He had no idea how people here would react to a Soul Reaper/Hollow hybrid walking among them, "different than most Soul Reapers."

Wilter smiled slightly and let the matter drop, "Indeed, now what questions can I answer?"

"You're the captain in charge of watching over Germany, right?" Naoko asked.

He inclined his head, "I am and have been since I became captain of the Sixth a handful of centuries ago."

"Forgive me for sounding rude," Naoko prefaced, "but our ancestors were killed on your land. We want to know how and why it happened."

Wilter focuses up at the leafless tree limbs with an expression of remorse, "Your question isn't rude at all young lady. I take it you are referring to the royal Quincy family. They are the only ones I know of having been murdered in my country."

"We are, our great-grandmother and her siblings and their families. My sister and I were attacked ourselves and think it's the same people who killed our family."

"I see, well, unfortunately, there is not much I can tell that would be useful. The Soul Reapers assigned to protect your family vanished after committing their heinous crime. It's been so long I can't recall their names or faces though I know they were strong, perhaps lieutenant or even captain class." He shrugged apologetically, "I'm afraid that's all I know."

So much for that. Naoko smiled, "That's alright, sir. We appreciate your help though."

Once they returned to their group and walked out the Sixth, Twitterson suggested, "What about Mac Dohmnail? That bloke has been around for ages."

Rosenberg held her chin in thought, "We could also ask Captain Sante. He is a historian, along with being a scientist… and a gossip. The man knows more secrets about this place and its people than the Stealth Force."

Twitterson nodded, "Yeah, and—hold up, is that? Is that James Thorne?"

The others looked at where Twitterson was and saw a young man stepping out of the Sixth's main building. He wore a black tunic and pants like everyone else, yet Naoko found it particularly lovely on him. His sandy blond hair curled softly at his ears. When his eyes rose up from the ground, Naoko felt a prick of intense feeling when his stunning ocean blue eyes met hers. His steps seemed to slow, and a rush of heat overtook her cheeks as he seemed to look only at her.

Twitterson ruined the moment by loudly saying, "James, don't tell me Wilter finally made you his lieutenant?"

James snapped out it and chuckled, "I'm afraid not, the Head Captain is quite reluctant to let me go anywhere else, so for now I'm still her Third Seat. I was just delivering some papers to him. Who are your friends?"

"Our brothers and sisters from the east," Twitterson gestured to everyone behind him and gave quick introductions. "They're visiting as part of a cultural exchange of sorts and helping out their Quincy mates here too."

A flash of some emotion Naoko couldn't name crossed over James' face. The expression passed, and he smiled warmly, "Really? Well, it's a pleasure to meet all of you. I hope our home is to your liking, even if it is a tad different. I need to get back to the First, still plenty of work to be done, but perhaps I'll see you all again."

I hope so, the thought came unbidden and by surprise. Naoko shoved it away and tried to calm the flush she felt scorching her cheeks. To her mortification Uryu looked at her curiously and with a hint of amusement.

"What?" She hissed.

He shrugged, "Nothing, just that your cheeks are oddly red."

"It's this damn cold wind!"

"Of course, it is."


Traveling in two groups seemed like the smarter option. Twitterson took Ichigo, Renji, and Naoko to the Eleventh Division while Rosenberg led Rukia, Nemu, and Uryu to the Twelfth. Those of the Eleventh were a bit more open with their ogling at the newcomers. Naoko forced herself to stand tall with her head held high, these thugs were no different than the thugs back at her Eleventh. However, she was grateful that Ichigo and Renji had her walk between them.

Familiar sounds of clashing metal, bodies hitting the ground, and battle cries assailed her ears. Her fingers touched the cross charm of her bracelet for reassurance, it may not be her first choice of weapon, but it would do in a pinch. Ecstatic, mad laughter grew louder as they drew near a massive training yard. Down in the deep crater stood a burly man swatting away at anyone who tried to fight him.

"That mad bastard is Captain Cabrie Mac Dohmnail," Twitterson introduced. "Been a captain for over two hundred years and loves fighting more than anything."

He and Captain Zaraki would get along fabulously, I bet. The man appeared similarly built as Zaraki. He sported a wild mane of copper-red hair that fell down his back and grew out his face in an equally wild beard. Mac Dohmnail wore the captain's uniform, but in dark green and stone gray and in lieu of pants he wore…

"Is he wearing a skirt?" Renji asked.

"It's called a kilt, actually, and he will beat you bloody if you call it a skirt," Twitterson warned.

"Oi, Twitterson, what the hell you doin' here?" Mac Dohmnail boomed. "And who are those strange lookin' gingers and scrawny lass you got tailing you?"

"Who's he calling strange? Has this guy taken a look in the mirror?" Ichigo asked.

"And who does he think he's calling scrawny?" Naoko huffed.

Twitterson cleared his throat, "Actually, they wanted to talk and ask some questions."

Mac Dohmnail spat on the ground, "Talk is cheap. You want answers you're going to have to beat me bloody to get'em. I'll take on the two gingers at once."

"Two on one isn't really our style," Renji said.

"I don't give a damn what your style is, boy. You lads fight me, and I'll answer whatever questions you got."

Renji and Ichigo exchanged glances, and the latter shrugged. Ichigo looked at Naoko, "You want to get in on this? If he's as battle-hungry as Kenpachi, a third person might make him more agreeable."

Naoko looked down at the red, burly man and felt no sense of excitement at the idea of battling someone new. Fighting once gave her a rush of joy and exhilaration, now it held no interest for her. Was it because of her loss to that unknown woman who attacked her? Is it self-doubt that's killing her enjoyment?

She shook her head and plastered on a smile, "No, you guys go down there and have fun."

Ichigo rolled his eyes, "Only you could think of this as fun."

He and Renji drew out their swords and leaped down into the training pit. Her smile faded, and she idly touched the cross at her wrist, unaware of Twitterson's subtle gaze.


"Be advised, Captain Sante can be a bit… absentminded and prone to distraction," Rosenberg warned. "But the man is more cunning and observant than he appears."

Uryu scarcely heard her as he was too distracted with the scenery. The interior of the man building of the Twelfth was vastly different from the one he was familiar with. Huge windows along walls and the roof allowed for plentiful natural light to flood in and illuminate the immaculate space. People bustled about around computers, tables with experiments, or gathered around in discussion. He chanced a look at Nemu and saw her eyes imperceptibly widen at everything. He couldn't tell if the science going around her sparked the intrigue or the considerable differences between Twelfth Divisions.

"Hi, Angel!"

The group stopped and looked up to see a small child hanging upside-down like a bat from the rafters. Her abundant tangle of red curls swung lightly, and her baby blue eyes gazed at them with excitement, curiosity, and mischief. She wore a black dress with leggings and boots and a silver-trimmed ultramarine sash wrapped twice over one shoulder.

Rosenberg appeared unperturbed by the small child's presence and merely asked, "Hello Lieutenant Silveria, is your captain around?"

"Indeed, I am Lieutenant Rosenberg." Walking up to them was a terribly thin man with honey blond hair in a short ponytail. His champagne gold eyes seemed to study them carefully and languidly. "How can I help you?"

"We were wondering if you would be kind enough to answer some questions my companions have. These young ladies are from the Eastern Gotei, and the young man is a Quincy."

His eyes jumped to each of them individually before nodding, "Of course, I'm always happy to meet new people, especially ones from so far away. Nantosuelta, come down here, please."

The little girl swung and somersaulted in the air before landing on her captain's shoulder. He barely twitched at the impact and fondly ruffled her hair. "Come, I can show you around as we talk."


*Trying my hand at a bit of worldbuilding and some more exposition. Some familiar characters from the first version of this story like James and Captain Wilter have appeared. Wilter's Division symbol is the four-leaf clover meaning "good luck", Mac Dohmnail's is the fennel meaning "strength" and Sante's is the fern meaning "magic, fascination, and shelter".

Please review and I'll post again June 5th.*