Disclaimer:I do not own Bleach.
Juushirou isn't sure he heard her correctly. "You're saying--"
"Yes. Kisuke knew when he sent those children here there was more at stake than the life of Kuchiki Rukia. Not just because her soul hosted Hou Gyoku. But because it was clear to both of us when Kuchiki Byakuya was sent to retrieve her something wasn't right. He wouldn't have gone himself. Not without being ordered. And who could order Byakuya-bo besides Central 46?"
Juushirou takes a breath. "And why would Central 46 concern itself with such a minor crime committed by someone less than a seated officer."
Yoruichi nods.
"What did he tell you?"
"Only that he got lucky and found a shinigami to use the gigai and hide Hou Gyoku. I knew that was a lie when he told me. He'd had plenty of chances. But something about Kuchiki Rukia appealed to him. I still don't know what. The only thing he told me for certain was that if Soul Society came looking for her, it would confirm his theory. He never bothered to tell me what the theory was, but considering he'd gone through the trouble of awakening Ichigo and having me train Sado and Inoue, I knew I needed to come with them, just in case his worst-case-scenario came true." She shakes her head. "I would never have believed it was Aizen Sousuke."
"Nor would I," Juushirou says. "But that's not what's bothering me now."
She regards him cautiously. She remembers him well enough to know this question has been in his mind since the last time he saw her. "Say it, Juu-chan."
"Why didn't you say goodbye?"
She gapes at him long enough for him to become uncomfortable. He stares at the table and stammers, "What?"
"I. . . I thought you were going to ask something else."
When Juushirou and Kaien returned to the thirteenth division compound, the sun was high and Ise Nanao was standing on the porch looking on sourly as Shunsui shuffled out of Juushirou's living quarters, flinching at the sun. By the time they reached him, they heard him groan an irritated response to the fuming of his vice captain, "Not so loud, Nanao-chan, not so loud."
"You should have thought of that while you were downing the sake last night, taichou," snapped Nanao-can.
Kiyone was standing in the doorway with an unabashed grin on her face. So. She had been the one to unleash the Wrath of Nanao. Clever girl, that Kiyone, if a tad vindictive.
By now Juushirou was face-to-face with the slightly green Shunsui. "Must have been a fun night," Shunsui said in passing.
"Oh, it was," Juushirou lied. Of course it couldn't have been. Neither of them had ever partied so hard they didn't remember it in the morning. But what Shunsui could not remember also could not hurt him. If he knew the situation, he would be insisting to stay. Juushirou thought it better to carry his heartache alone for as long as he could. "Get some rest, Shun. I'll come to see you later."
He watched the pair disappear over the hill that sheltered the eighth division compound before he went inside. He instructed Kaien and Kiyone to leave him alone and escaped to his chamber. There he could think without interruption. Good, fun-loving Shunsui, who had no doubt where he loved, no sympathies where he hated, and had no hesitation when faced with the very nature of right and wrong. So very opposite to Juushirou. He knew he had no time to ponder his failings, as many as they were.
But he also had no right to interfere any further—or at all. Kisuke was no child. And Yoruichi—no, that door had closed long ago. Neither his wife, his lover, nor his responsibility, that one. He knew her mind, even though he thought he had forgotten it. It was like Yamamoto-sama taught him, all those years ago.
One of his last training sessions at the academy. Yamamoto-sama had singled him out, and Shunsui as well, because he felt they were gifted. They would wander the hills farther west of Rukongai, breathing the air and feeling the wind on their backs, listening. That day, Yamamoto instructed Shunsui to stand and watch. Juushirou he blindfolded. "The thing we share with other other creature, including hollow-kind, is instinct," he said. "When to fight, when to flee, when to hold. To hold is the hardest thing to master. It is the ability not only not to act, but to use your perception to detect and divert the inertia of another. I can rush at you, and I can strike you, but it is harder to strike you when you stand fast and move quickly to dodge. The difference is that the enemy's mind is often in chaos during a battle. It is stripped bare. You must learn to direct your instinct so that it is no longer your master. And," he added, moving away from Juushirou and leaving him in his darkness, "you must learn to detect by his movement whether the mind of your enemy is chaos or order."
Beneath the blindfold, Juushirou had closed his eyes. Red. He was facing the sun. The breeze caressed his ears. This was old stuff, he conceded. Being able to see without the benefit of sight was something any shinigami worth his salt masted in his first year. But--
He felt the pounding of earth beneath his feet. Someone was rushing at him. Who was it? They were coming from behind and although the movements were quick they were measured, almost calculated. But only almost. Whoever it was had fear in his heart. There it was. As the person's soul cutter came down towards his back, Juushirou turned, pulled his own, and deflected it. There was no other blow. Why not? Juushirou waited for it for what seemed like an eternity. But it did not come.
What did come was the blow from the opposite direction. He could hear the air splitting. He stepped to the side.
The heavy breathing he heard next was his own. A little slower and he would have lost his left arm. He ripped off the blindfold. "Why--"
Yamamoto stood staring at him, directly ahead. This was the second attacker. "Very good, very good, Ukitake-kun. But tell me this. Why did you not press the first attacker?"
Shunsui, behind him, face ashen, could only stare.
"I didn't want to fight. I was waiting for him to come back at me before I acted," Juushirou said.
"Were you assuming he did not want to fight you?" Yamamoto asked.
"I know he did. Because you told him to. Otherwise he would never have come at me."
"But what else?"
"His movement was slow. He wanted to fight without hurting me. And--" Juushirou's eyes widened. "He didn't know how do that. Not without making it look like he wasn't trying. His mind was in chaos."
"So you held. You did not realize Kyouraku-kun's dilemma until now, did you?"
"No, sensei, I did not." Juushirou paused. "And I don't need to know why that is, do I?"
"No, you do not. Because you know you can trust your instincts," Yamamoto-sama said.
Well, Juushirou thought wryly in the comfort of his chamber, this wouldn't be the first time Yamamoto-sama was wrong about something. But the instinct to hold was screaming in him. Either Kisuke would get his wish for punishment or Yoruichi would find some way to stop it. To act before he knew which one wold happen would be nothing short of foolhardy and selfish, but—he didn't trust their instincts any more than he trusted his own. But it was late now and the moon was up.
Juushirou sighed and tried to sleep.
