HALCYON DAYS
Volume Five: Drowned in the Rain
Chapter Five
The sun began its descent, casting a golden farewell glow over Kagamino City. Ichigo and Rukia stood draped in the shadow of an alley, looking down together at the blot of dried blood overlaid with trash.
"They haven't even cleaned the space up?" Ichigo gritted. "A woman gets butchered beside a dumpster and the authorities won't even cleanse the ground she died on."
"I see humans disrespecting the dead like this all the time," Rukia sighed. "You grew up fully aware of spirits, Ichigo. You're one of the few humans who truly understands how important their dying place is for them."
Ichigo clenched a fist and looked around. "I don't sense Grand Fisher at all."
"Neither do I," Rukia concurred. "I had hoped our presence here would draw him out, but it's been hours and there's no sign of him yet. This is the last of his known victims in Kagamino City. Another woman struck down during rainfall…"
Two shadows entered into the alleyway, drawing their attention. Ichigo gazed back at the gauzy curtain of light along the alley's edge, spotting a pair of humans approaching. One was a man and the other a young boy clutching a bouquet of flowers. They looked poor, based on their shabby clothing and hygiene, and they were unmistakably father and son. As they drew closer, Ichigo made out the tears welling in the child's eyes. He saw the flowers and understood immediately.
This murdered woman... was a mother.
The father and son reached Ichigo and Rukia, unable to see their spiritual bodies and phasing right through them. Rukia retreated to a polite distance while Ichigo was rooted to the spot, staring straight down at the young boy.
The child couldn't have been any older than eight. He was standing right where Ichigo was, mingling with his ghostly body and completely unaware he was being observed.
"Let's clean this mess up," the father said gruffly, squatting down to shove the trash aside, building a clean spot around the blood stain. "Alright, give mommy her flowers now."
The boy choked back tears and knelt down to place the bouquet of white and yellow chrysanthemums on the concrete. He broke down and fell into a crouch.
His father hauled him up and dusted him off.
"Stop crying!" he ordered, his own voice quavering. "She wouldn't want you to cry! You have to be a man now, understand?"
The boy kept on sobbing, and so the father began to shake him.
"I said stop wailing, you brat! This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't wandered in here. You hear me? She'd still be alive! It's your fault!"
He raised a hand to slap his son and brought it down with furious force, only for it to halt in mid-air.
The man let out a gasp, feeling as though an invisible hand was gripping his forearm. He looked up and saw nothing, but his hand was firmly held in place. It was like the very air had intervened.
Rukia, her eyes wide with shock, watched as Ichigo held the man's arm in a firm lock. The Strawberry's face was downcast, staring at the crying child.
The father paused for a moment and, his shame dawning on him, broke into a font of tears. He threw his other arm around his son and drew him in close, hugging him desperately.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it. Forgive me, please!"
They wept together while Ichigo loomed over them. He finally released the father's arm and watched it drape defeatedly on the ground.
After a long pause, Ichigo turned away and marched out of the alley. Rukia followed, finding him standing still on the amber-hued street.
"Ichigo?"
"Let's go home. Can we go back to Karakura Town, please?"
Rukia signaled to Chappy from across the street. The Gikon nodded and started up the motorcycle.
Renji was adrift in darkness until finally he felt a spark of light. He bolted upright from his medical bed, eyes wide and heart racing.
"Ah, you're finally awake," said Yasochika Iemura, the Third Seat of Fourth Division.
The medic leaned forward and pried open Renji's eyelids to inspect his dilating irises.
"What the hell happened?" Renji gasped.
"You won your match and promptly passed out," Iemura answered. "At first we thought it was an adverse effect from Akon's drug, but it turned out your synchronization with your Zanpakutō put too much of a strain on your mind. You could have died. Fortunately, Captain Unohana herself treated you. Officer Akon was kind enough to provide her with the antidote as well, so your sense of temporal reality ought to be back to normal. Is it?"
Renji looked to him with wide-eyed bafflement. After a beat, he gave an uneasy nod.
"Things feel really fast all of a sudden, yeah. I guess I'm back to normal."
"Akon did warn us that there would be some lingering side effects. The most likely being – "
Renji suddenly became green in the face and turned to the side, upchucking a fountain of vomit onto the floor.
"Nausea," Imeura finished. "Officer Yamada, could you please fetch a mop and clean that up?"
"Yes sir," Hanatarō Yamada nodded before running off.
"And bring a bucket for Lieutenant Abarai as well!" Iemura added.
After a half hour of inspection, Renji was discharged from the medical station, equipped with a wooden pail in case he became sick again. He trudged through the bowels of the Bushishinzui Budōkan's interior, feeling groggy as hell and furious with Akon. When he finally happened upon an exit, he discovered Ikkaku and Yumichika awaiting him.
"Well look at you, back from the dead!" Ikkaku cackled.
He was heavily bandaged, his wounds from Rindō's attacks now sealed up into fading scars.
"For a minute there, I thought you were gonna take a dirt nap, too," Renji grimaced back. "Am I really the last one to be discharged?"
"Oh yes; everybody else has been patched up and sent back to the barracks," Yumichika cooed. "Madarame and Akon required some extra attention, but you were the only one who was touch and go for a while. I'm afraid you missed the final two matches of today's games."
"Damn. Who won?"
"Rangiku and Tetsuzaemon," Ikkaku said. "Both the Kotetsu sisters got knocked out. Isane put up a good fight, but Kiyone... well, Zaemon went easy on her."
"A predictable result," Yumichika snickered. "You didn't miss much."
"How's Shūhei doing?" Renji asked.
"His pride hurts more than his body," Ikkaku said. "I think Izuru might've broken something between them more important than bones, though."
That's a crying shame, Renji thought.
"Long day, Abarai?" Yumichika chuckled, eyeing Renji's haggard complexion.
"It's felt like a long year for me," Renji sighed. "I don't know about you guys, but I wanna head back and collapse into bed."
They all turned to exit the tunnel, only to be headed off by Hinashi Yokio.
The three officers stopped dead in their tracks, completely unnerved by the sight of the Shikōtai guardsman's shimmering samurai armor.
"Kneel," Yokio said plainly.
They all fell down onto their knees and fretfully bowed, their noses kissing the sand.
"Tenrai-chō Yūshirō wants an audience with you, Lieutenant Abarai."
"Huh?" Renji grunted, looking up from the dirt.
The diminutive leader of the Shihōin Clan was squatted down and inspecting him. They were practically nose-to-nose.
"Hiya!" Yūshirō giggled, his golden eyes glinting with delight. "I'm your biggest fan!"
Renji fell back onto his ass and scooted several paces away, nearly frightened to death.
"Thanks, Your Highness!" Please don't execute me, Your Highness.
"You were such a badass out there today," Yūshirō added, miming the way Renji whipped around Zabimaru. "Your Shikai totally lived up to the hype!Tokinada-san and I agreed your fight was definitely the best."
Ikkaku and Yumichika shared a look, both of them just as baffled as Renji.
Yūshirō continued to playact his recollection of the battle, getting carried away with his imagination before remembering what he came there to ask. He looked back down at Renji with a bright grin.
"Is it true what they say? That you challenged your own captain, Kuchiki Byakuya, to save the life of that girl?"
That girl? He must mean Rukia.
"I did, Your Highness."
"That's so badass!" Yūshirō cried with glee, clapping his hands to his face and shaking back and forth. "So foolhardy, so suicidal! You're just like all those legendary Shinigami I've read about. Maybe they'll write about you too, Abarai Renji."
The nobleman took a moment to collect himself before letting out a contended coo. He savored his thrumming excitement with a deep breath and shot Renji another sly smile.
"I also hear you've got a Bankai. Is that true, too?"
"Uh… yes, Your Highness. I do."
"Wicked! You totally gotta show that off in the arena. If it's half as cool as your Shikai, then gee I can't wait!"
"But you forbid me from using Bankai in the ring, Your Highness." Renji furrowed his brow, completely confused.
Yūshirō's smile dropped. He was just as confused.
"Who told you that? I don't recall consenting to any such decree."
"My cap – "
My captain. Sonofabitch.
He had been a fool for taking Byakuya's word for it. A knot of anger balled up inside his chest.
"Never mind, there must have been a miscommunication, Your Highness," he seethed through a forced smile.
"Good." Yūshirō resumed his grin. "I expect to see your Bankai in the matches to come, Abarai Renji. Don't let me down."
The tiny Tenrai-chō and his bodyguard zipped away in a flash of highly adept Shunpo, leaving a gentle breeze in their wake.
Renji, Ikkaku, and Yumichika all sat in the dirt, gobsmacked by what had just occurred.
"Well good for you, Abarai," Ikkaku chuckled with a hint of envy. "It's not everyday you win a Tenrai-chō's favor – "
Renji dunked his head into his bucket and violently puked, not hearing a lick of Ikkaku's congratulations.
