Hi, all! GKR here, just typing in a bit of info real quick. I wanted to make it clear, here and now, that this chapter will be a bit different. This one will be less about story, pacing etc, and more just a glimpse into the gotei and what Erza's friends have been up to since she left, in preparation for the coming arc. So with that in mind, please enjoy this new slice-of-life chapter, because it's the last one before we get into the Soul Society arc!
I also hope that you all really enjoy this chapter, hopefully things will go well. I have many things I wish to say as well, though thats all saved for when your done with the chapter.
With that said, please enjoy and leave yours thoughts in a review.
Bleach is owned by Tite Kubo and Shounen jump. Fairy tail is owned by Hiro Mashima and weekly shounen magazine. I own NOTHING. This is all just for fu
Few Gotei officers relished paperwork. It was a nuisance, hours of work to describe minutes of action, and you were required to hand it in unless you were very, very important.
Kuchiki Byakuya was not most officers. His mind, so strict, neat and orderly that it resembled nothing so much as a dusty library, worked through paperwork with efficiency and attentiveness. Never a missed word, never a box unmarked, not a single stroke of the pen out of place; that was the kind of person Byakuya was. Many of the younger officers of sixth division considered him perfect, the very model of an officer- restrained, temperate and calm, brave and bold in battle, but never violent to excess. Righteously fearsome when challenged, but otherwise fair- hard, but fair. Sixth division had not always been full of sticklers for the rules, but long-lasting captains had a tendency to leave an impact on their soldiers, and his division was at this point known as the most meticulously efficient, straight-and-narrow elite in the Gotei. Or as Eleventh put it, 'buncha stick-up-their-arse prissy nob wannabes'.
Sixth division considered Byakuya perfect. The noble head of clan Kuchiki knew better. Ironically, the more knowledge one gains, the more one realizes how ignorant one is, and the better one knows oneself, the better one sees one's own shortcomings. Byakuya knew he was a flawed man, full of little imperfections he would never, ever voice publicly, because it might have a negative impact on morale. Perfection was an ideal, something to aspire to, not something you could ever be.
As he flipped through his morning stack of paperwork, quickly eyeing one document after another before putting his signature to it, or putting it in a pile to be archived, something strange happened. An arrest order had been sent directly to his 'in' pile.
At first, he thought it was a mistake. He normally received plenty of complaints, from other division officers or uppity noblemen, but this carried the seal of the Gotei Police Agency- run by Second Division, but mostly delegated to the affected divisions to deal with. Curiously, he opened the note.
His curiosity only increased as he read. Byakuya was nothing if not restrained, and seldom felt anything like shock- but his heart skipped a beat when he read it.
It was an arrest order for Kuchiki Rukia.
The charges were laughably simple. Misdemeanors; Irresponsible Use of Sanctioned Power, Failure To Report Within Appropriate Time Intervals, Meddling With Mortals… all things that, piled together, could certainly land a shinigami with a heavy fine, or even some jail time, but hardly worth the attention of a captain. This would normally fall within the purview of a low-ranked officer, not the head of a division.
But here it was, on his desk, explicitly ordering him personally to arrest his little sister. Signed by a judge from the Central Forty-Six, no less, and that was a real eyebrow-raiser. They rarely intervened directly, and for such a petty case? Had he offended somebody high up? Was this some petty revenge?
He thought about it for a second, and realized the truth. It was not revenge, or any such malicious act. It was a courtesy. It was well known among all the Gotei that he valued rules, order and law above all, without exception. By making him personally arrest his little sister, even for smaller charges, they would make him look staunchly moral, consistent with his own beliefs- it would send the message that Kuchiki Byakuya, captain of sixth division and head of the noble house Kuchiki, had no tolerance for crime, even minor, even among his own family. It would make him look strong, and by extension, it would make the Gotei look stronger, and send a message to all divisions in general. He approved of that notion, although he disliked political power plays- the work they did as shinigami was far more important than some political power balance. But it was an inescapable part of their life, even if it was tiresome…
He wondered about Rukia. It had been months since she had left for her first Living-World assignment, without a word sent. This had been nothing out of the ordinary for a shinigami; a soldier could be stationed at one post for years at a time, and communication could be sporadic. He was loath to admit it, but her assignment had left him uncomfortable, irritable even, and he had pondered pulling some strings to keep her home. But that was an abuse of power, even moreso than suggesting to the officer's recruitment office that he believed her talents were best spent in the rank and file- not ordering anything, certainly not, just suggesting that perhaps it would be for the best- and Byakuya was even more uncomfortable with the notion of using power selfishly. He had power, quite a lot more of it than almost anybody else, and the Gotei was full of people who did not use it efficiently or responsibly enough. He would never be so uncivil as to publicly voice these opinions; it was not his place to question the order of things… but there was no denying that not everyone was as carefully considered in their execution of authority as himself.
Which was why he had let her go. When you aim toward perfection, using power for yourself, instead of for others, was as slippery a slope as one could step onto.
But now she was a criminal, apparently having strayed from the path of the righteous. Perhaps- he hoped- it was a misunderstanding, an overzealous law officer jumping to conclusions. Either way, it did not matter. He would go tonight, taking Renji with him- the boy was still unruly, and needed some hardening, and this was just the sort of thing he could use- and resolve this. Rukia would come, she would face a tribunal and be declared guilty or innocent. She would pay a fine, or at worst spend some time behind bars, and return back safely to duty within good time. His promise to Hisana would remain intact. The tribunal would not likely sentence her harshly- although he disapproved of it, he knew the legal authorities rarely judged a member of a noble house guilty of anything, and if they did, the punishment was seldom severe.
He would go tonight, bring her home, and that would be the end of it.
Realizing he had pondered the matter for several minutes, and thus falling behind his personal schedule, he quickly returned to his paperwork.
The sun shone down brightly on the streets of the Gotei Thirteen. It was a beautiful day, bright but not too hot, with a pleasant breeze in the air. It was the perfect day to have the day off, something Rangiku Matsumoto intended to make the very most of. She had even bothered getting up early, something she wouldn't normally do unless she had to. A quick shower and breakfast, and on her merry way she had been. Currently she was strolling down one of the Gotei's many streets, and while she had someplace to go, she didn't walk like she did. The day was young and she was in no rush to be anywhere. A spa after lunch, some shopping… she had the day all to herself.
Life was quite grand, all things considered. Her life in the afterlife had started rough, and she had many sorrows in her past, like so many others. But here she was, a vice-captain, at the top of shinigami society- with a free day to spend as she pleased. Things like these made life worth it, even with her pain-in-the-rear captain being such a stick in the mud.
Her feet eventually, in due time, took her to the quarters of Kotetsu Isane. At this hour- which for most would be right in the middle of work- she would usually be in the division, managing the hospital along with her captain. She sometimes kept odd hours, though, and working deep into the night was nothing unusual at a hospital. Unohana Retsu was insistent on fair treatment of her subordinates, she knew, and that included appropriate sleeping hours. Given the late hours Isane had put in lately, she was probably not off for work just yet, and she was as good a friend as any to share a cup of tea with, and some gossip. Granted, she would have to do most of the gossiping, but friendship was all about sacrifice.
Before long, she found herself knocking on Isane's door. It was a rather simple apartment, with Spartan accommodations. She was not the most exciting of people, and didn't spend much here- she lived for her job, an attitude Rangiku would not understand if she lived to be a thousand. Then again, that was probably why Isane was a doctor, and she was not.
Isane opened the door, not even halfway, and shot Rangiku a nervous smile. She always had been a bit awkward.
"Oh, um, Rangiku," she said, almost stuttering. "Nice to um, see you. What are you doing here?"
"Well, good morning to you too!" Rangiku said cheerily. "I just so happened to know you had an hour or two to kill, and wouldn't you know it- so do I. I thought we could go out for a cup of tea, or something of the like. Relax, enjoy the day…"
"Oh." Isane said, and Rangiku knew her 'Oh's. Some convincing seemed in order.
"Or if you feel tired, we could just hang out here," Rangiku said, undeterred. Without hesitating, she pushed the door open, and stepped inside. She hadn't been invited, not per se, but Rangiku was the sort of person who operated under the assumption that her company was always welcome. In all fairness, she was usually right. Despite Isane's anxious look, everything seemed all right. A poorly decorated hallway, a basics-only kitchen whose greatest luxury seemed to be a coffee brewer to the left, and further down the hall, a bedroom.
"Listen, I'm not sure this is a great idea," Isane said, her face cheeks reddening a little.
"So," Rangiku said, ignoring Isane's apprehension, I'll just make us some tea, or coffee- do you prefer coffee? Of course you do. I bet you drink it all the time. Good way to keep yourself awake on those late nights. She took a step toward the kitchen.
Then Nemu walked past her. Quite noticeably undressed, except for a worn shirt of Isane's. Looking a little like a zombie, she walked into the kitchen as if not even noticing Rangiku, and poured herself a mug of coffee.
"Oh." Rangiku said.
"…yeah." Isane murmured, looking rather awkward.
"What happened this time?" Rangiku said, all the cheer having dropped from her voice. She knew very well what went on in twelfth, everyone did.
"She didn't hand him something fast enough. He was in a bad mood, and broke six of her ribs." Isane murmured, pain replacing the awkwardness in her voice. Not unusually for a medical professional, she was deeply emphatic, Rangiku knew, and the situation had to be heartrending.
"It's a damn shame." Rangiku said, shaking her head.
"It's not right," Isane said frustratedly, whispering the words. "He built her to be resistant to pain, sure, and she heals fast, but… that doesn't make it okay. She still hurts, and…" She just shook her head helplessly.
"She's lucky to have you." Rangiku said reassuringly. "Is it… safe for her to be here? What with Captain Kurotsuchi and all…"
"When I picked her up, I made it very clear that he would have to answer to Captain Unohana if she was brought back before she healed." Isane said firmly. "He's mad, but he knows where his limits go. I just have… an hour or so, before she has to get back."
"I understand." Rangiku said solemnly. "It's… a raw deal." She felt a bit helpless; no words seemed sufficient. What went on with that madman and his so-called daughter was known to all, and nobody could really stop him. Kurotsuchi Mayuri was the finest example of what abuse could happen when the wrong person got too much power.
Isane just nodded.
"Well, at least she has you," Rangiku said, putting her hands on Isane's arms, and pulled her into a hug. "It means a lot, having somebody there for you, for better or for worse."
"Yeah, um, yeah…" Isane said tamely.
"Well, I can tell when I'm being a third wheel," Rangiku said, with a bit of forced cheer, "so I'll just get going…"
"No, please, stay," Isane said, with a small smile. "You're welcome to stay for coffee."
"You're sure?" Rangiku said. "You don't want some time to yourselves?"
"We've have plenty of that," Isane said, with a slight blush. "The more the merrier, right?"
"Well, if you're sure…" Rangiku said. She was an intrusive person, sure enough, but not insensitive.
"Come in and sit down." The voice was Nemu's, as creepily neutral as ever.
"Well, it looks like I'm staying," Rangiku said. "So tell me, how are things at the hospital?"
"Hectic, as usual," Isane said. "You know how it is, a lot of Elevens getting overeager, getting injured, and getting rowdy when we treat them…"
"Oh, isn't it always the case with those brutes," Rangiku said dismissively. "If I had a coin for every time one of them got in our way…"
Before long she was sat by Isane's kitchen table, the three of them sharing coffee. Rangiku did most of the talking, but then again, talking was one of her strengths.
In due time, Rangiku said her good-byes, and headed out. Isane was surprisingly good company, as anybody who looked past her reserved, awkward personality would find out. It was time to move on, though.
Catching Kujo Nozomi just in time for lunch, the two of headed out to a pleasant soldier's restaurant. Not quite as extravagant as what you would find in the nobler districts outside the Gotei, but certainly appropriate enough. To the casual observer, the thirteen court guard squads would appear only as a military complex- but of course, soldiers are not always on duty, and soldiers off duty are always looking for entertainment. To that end, there was no shortage of bars, restaurants, gambling halls, and even the odd cinema here and there, spread out across the Gotei's thirteen divisions. In one of these establishments, Rangiku was now sat down with Lisanna, the two of them awaiting their orders of food, enjoying an appetizer.
She hadn't been looking for Nozomi per se; she had literally been the first person she knew that she had found, and decided it was as good a choice as any. Rangiku was friendly, and not picky with her company.
"So what's going on with you, hmmm?" Rangiku said cheerily, casually leaning back in her chair. Officers got favourable treatment here, and that included padded, well-made armchairs.
"Oh, the same as usual," Nozomi said, shrugging. Her green hair framed her face beautifully, and Rangiku often thought that she would have no difficulty finding company if she wasn't cooped up in her lab all the time. "I am overseeing at least… four different projects?" She counted on her fingers, deep in thought. "No, five. Reiatsu microphysical measurement, molecular biology applied as… well, a lot of science stuff that probably bores you."
"Well, I definitely wouldn't understand, but I'm sure it's very important," Rangiku said diplomatically. She had never been much of a scholar, and Nozomi's position as a senior researcher in twelfth division put her in the realm of things Rangiku did not really grasp. She had done well for herself- fourth seat in a relatively short time, overseeing multiple projects…
"Are you getting enough air, though?" Rangiku asked. "It wouldn't do to get rusty with the sword, you know." She was well aware it was a little hypocritical; she herself would not train very regularly.
Nozomi smiled. "I go on missions and patrols according to regulation, so no need to worry about that. Mostly I just order assistants around, go through data, write reports…"
"What was that I said about air, hmm?" Rangiku said teasingly.
"You could say I get as much of it as I want."
"That just might be the problem, then." Rangiku said with a smile.
"Listen…" Nozomi said seriously. "I love my job. I am an officer of the Gotei, certainly, but I'm a scientist first. We get a… bad rep, we do-" now there was the understatement of the century- "but science is the one way we are assured to make the world a better place. All of us are going to die one day, but what we've accumulated, the knowledge we found and the discoveries we made, those will last for all of history. So… I think I'm fine." She shot a small smile, as if to reassure Rangiku.
"Well!" Rangiku said, quickly smoothing things over, "consider me corrected, then. Who needs a personal life anyway?"
"That's the spirit." Nozomi said cheerily, choosing not to be offended. Few people understood.
"Ah, and I think that's our orders," Rangiku said, nodding enthusiastically. "Let's eat, shall we?"
"Let's," Nozomi said.
"Put 'em up! I said, put 'em up! No slacking!"
There was an excitable, and slightly terrified crowd of young officers, freshly graduated or promoted, who watched their vice-captain mercilessly pummel one of their own. A dozen or so were gathered in the sixth division's courtyard, watching intently.
Abarai Renji was a rough man, although not nearly as aloof and unapproachable as their captain. He was the one you went to if you had something to say or ask- and the one you went to when you needed your ass kicked, like now.
It was an impromptu sparring session. Two young officers had had words, which ended up with fists, and their vice-captain had caught them. Rather than chastise them and deal out punishments, he had insisted they were both doing it wrong. Both of the original offenders were already down, both barely conscious and nurturing what would be nasty bruises a day or so from now. Vice-captain Abarai was already working on his fifth officer, a twenty-something seat fresh out of the academy. Each one so far had been a volunteer, and each one so far had had more than a few regrets.
Renji threw a set of punches, simple and slow ones, the young officer managing to block the first two, but taking three quick jabs to the face. He fell over, barely keeping himself up on his arms, and looked like he was about to cry.
"Get up, Officer Shishiku." Renji demanded. "Get up right now and hit me."
"Vice-captain-" The officer started to plead, but Renji was having none of it.
"Get up," he demanded. "You asked for this spar, and you're damn well going to finish it. This ain't the academy, and playtime's over. You're officers, all of you, and if a small love-tap like that's too much for you, you might as well roll over and die, because the hollows and traitors out there sure won't give you this kind of waiting time. Get UP."
Nodding, at the brink of tears, Shishiku stood up.
"Now, you come at me again. You throw a feint punch, then jab me in the gut, just like I showed you. It's not advanced. Did you slack off in hand-to-hand, boy? Well?"
"…no, sir," The officer mumbled.
"And stand with confidence!" Renji said. "You'll never win if you don't think you can!"
With perhaps a bit too much gusto, Shishiku charged at Renji. As instructed, he performed the feint, and jabbed at Renji. To his surprise, the punch hit home.
"Wasn't that hard, was it?" Renji said to the shocked officer. "It takes practice and pain. Mark my word, that's what makes any shinigami any good at anything."
Without warning, he punched him in the face, sending the young man tumbling.
"Let that be a lesson to you not to take your eyes off the enemy," he said firmly. "Everyone's always trying to hit you, that's what you need to assume when you're fighting. Now get up!"
Grunting with pain, the officer stood up again. Renji nodded. "That's good enough. Go take a seat."
Gratefully, Shishiku shuffled off to the sides, joining his comrades. The crowd watched with fascination at their vice-captain, sharing his knowledge- through pain, indeed, but it was worth it. Renji was an admired figure, strong and hard-working, and you'd never catch the captain fraternizing like this, teaching a special move or better form.
"So, who's next?"
There was some indecision, a few people seeming willing to learn, but not as willing to get pummeled. Finally, a young woman stepped up, looking a little terrified.
Before a minute had passed, she was sent tumbling head-first into the dust.
Renji had changed a lot since he first joined. He had once been dependent, attached emotionally to a traitor and a fiend, but that was no longer the case. At first, he had denied it- but time and evidence had done their part, and he had come to resent her. Despise her. So it was that he sought out the sixth division, to serve under the staunch and orderly captain Kuchiki. Not out of a desire to surpass him- he had once had that childish notion. That he needed to be better than him. As if that would impress Rukia, as if that would make her want him. It was a young man's folly. No, he had sought him now because Kuchiki Byakuya was the best of the best, and to redeem himself, from being known as a student of the traitor, the best of the best was what he had to be.
Renji had become a model officer. Not stiff or obsessed with following every little rule; he still had a little streak of punk left in him, but he had become a strict, strong officer in his own right. His hard work and talent had soon been recognized, and some ten years ago he had been promoted to vice-captain. Captain Kuchiki was as hard as he was fair, and had a meritocratic streak atypical for such an exalted nobleman. Renji had been deemed the most fit, and had risen to the occasion. If Byakuya was the strict father of a large family, Renji was its collective big brother. Life was duty, he would say, and only in death did duty end. Such hard lessons, like pain and practice, he handed out every so often, like today. The young officers always listened, and endured the odd bruise here and there.
"Vice-captain."
The voice was quiet, soft and controlled yet masculine, the unmistakable sound of their captain. Renji stopped himself mid-punch, giving the female officer a much-needed respite, and all of them stood to attention.
"Sir," Renji said, saluting. "Instructing the newcomers on close-quarter combat, sir."
"So I can see." The captain said inscrutably. "You are all dismissed. Return to your normal duties."
Immediately, the officers scurried away, eager to obey their captain. Byakuya stared at Renji.
"You disapprove, sir?" Renji said. His voice was controlled, calm, but there was a small hint of nervousness.
"You sent quite a few off hurting quite badly." Byakuya commented. "Some of their families have questioned whether your methods are appropriate."
"This is a military division, sir," Renji said neutrally. "Kiddie gloves is for the academy. They're all of them soldiers, and they're supposed to fight hollows and insurgents any moment we need them to. They all need serious work. They hurt, but they learn."
"You maintain that your methods are sound, then?"
"Unless you disagree, sir, yeah." Renji said flatly. "Pain's a part of life. So's dying. They need to learn the first and the second one both. They're officers, the upper tier of the division, and they owe it to you, to themselves and to the Gotei to be the best that they can be."
Byakuya stayed silent, looking at his subordinate. It was subtle, but the man had a way of getting to people.
"So what's your opinion, sir?" Renji said, after a short while.
"That you have trained a fair share of strong warriors in your time here. I am not concerned with the whimpering of oversensitive noble families with an over-inflated sense of self-importance."
"Oh." Renji said, a bit surprised. "Well. Good." He scratched his head. "…if you don't mind my asking, what did you want, then? Sir?"
"We have a mission. Tonight. The both of us." Byakuya said.
"What is it, then?"
Byakuya told him.
"Well, shit," Renji said.
A model officer, but some edges you just can't shave off.
Rodrigo Sentry took a slow puff on one of his cheap cigarettes, leaned back in a no-nonsense office chair in a manner that was not quite non-nonsensical enough to not contrast with the Spartan, optimized look of the room. This office had been quite different when Omaeda Marechiyo had inhabited it. That slovenly idiot, best characterized by his fat, stocky frame, and even fatter head, had not used this officer for years now. Everyone, except perhaps Omaeda himself, knew that he had only held his position out of nepotism; although a capable enough fighter, he was completely lacking in every quality a high ranking officer should possess. When Rod, hard-working and driven by a neurotic need to achieve, had come along- then, at last, captain Soifon had had enough of playing nice with the Marechiyos, and promptly demoted him.
So the office had gone from a gaudy display of rich colours, thick rugs and gold ornaments, to simple, neat bookshelves filled with files and books, a modest desk, and its one luxury- a simple couch.
At this moment, Rod was in no particular hurry. The further up the chain you were, the more administrative work you had to mind, and he avoided using secretaries or deputies as much as possible. Second division had a tendency to make you paranoid, particularly if you were in the stealth corps. He had a stack of paperwork to go through, but it was not urgent- although a boring and somewhat tedious chore, he knew he could go through it efficiently well within the expected deadline. Here, to himself, he indulged in his one vice- cheap tobacco- while thinking to himself.
Like, for example, how bizarrely simple it was to hide things from the one agency made for the purpose of finding things out. For years, he had kept track of Erza, and for years, there had been report from scouts and various measuring equipment about her activities in Karakura town. If she had been trained in the stealth corps, like he, she would have known that the best way to not be found was to keep a low profile, and never stay too long in one place- and as was her nature, she had done the opposite.
The first time he had intercepted a report, and 'lost' it, his heart had skipped several beats every time a superior addressed him, for months afterward. But nothing had ever come of it. As he lost, misplaced, or sometimes even destroyed evidence of her presence, he realized it was alarmingly easy to hide things, because even trained spies didn't seem to look among their own ranks with mistrust.
His biggest achievement in that department had been the quincy incident. It was a miracle she hadn't been identified immediately, and Rod had pulled many favours to cover up and distort the incident. Officially it was listed as a quincy skirmish, with any and all mention of shinigami expunged. It had been at considerable risk he did this- had he been found out, he would have been tried for treason and likely executed.
Rod was not disloyal. You didn't dedicate yourself to murder and spying if you didn't believe what you were doing was important, or justified. But to him, it had always been simple. She had saved his life, physically and mentally, and that meant it was worth it. Rod was not disloyal, and that was why he had committed multiple acts of treason without hesitation.
The nature of her disappearance, too, had given him purpose. He knew somebody had framed her, and to this day only he, Lisanna Strauss and Hinamori Momo believed in her innocence, because the case had been solid. Too solid. Too neatly laid out, with all the right evidence, easily found and provided. Usually that just meant the implicated party was guilty, but not she- he knew better.
So he had kept an eye out over the years. Little irregularities, forming a pattern. Various shifts of power. Strange reports from the Rukon. Unexplained mysteries. What he had put together was conspiracy theory, and he knew it- but being paranoid didn't mean you were wrong. What he had found over the years, however circumstantial, had convinced him. There was a hidden power at work in the Gotei, most likely a most empowered high ranking officer, maybe even a vice-captain or a captain, working toward some unknown goal, most likely sinister. This unknown had framed Erza, left her to rot, and that was all he knew with any certainty.
But now, things had changed. As of late, Erza's energies had stirred, and mixed with something else, something new. What else, Kuchiki Rukia had gone missing some time ago, and a warrant for her arrest had been issued. Something, Rod knew, would happen soon. What exactly he couldn't be sure of, but he had an idea. Doing incredibly stupid, incredibly brave things was Erza's style, and Rukia- a long-time friend, despite her likely not reciprocating the feeling- being taken in unjustly would not go over well.
Only he, Lisanna Strauss, and Hinamori Momo believed in her. Only he knew she might be coming back. He would have shared the information, except it was an unnecessary risk, something to save until it was time. He only wished Hinamori wasn't such an idiot about it- while he and Strauss had kept their mouths shut, kept a low profile, she had loudly proclaimed her belief in a convicted traitor, multiple times. There was an ongoing investigation on her, a running file accumulating information in the case of treason, including a standing kill order just in case. She had no idea. She had grown explosively in terms of power and skill, compared to her old self- but she was still naïve, still careless, still ignorant.
Snapping out of his ponderings, Rod put out his cigarette in an ash tray, and began to go through his paperwork with meticulous efficiency. He had work to do- at the division, and later. She was coming back, and the right people had to be informed.
Thrust, stab, parry, counterattack, thrust, slash- there was a soothing rhythm to it. Lisanna swung her shinai with practiced precision, the bamboo practice sword just barely failing to hit her opponent. Hisagi Shuhei was a skilled opponent, and although considerably junior compared to herself, a worthy match.
Lisanna had the advantage of experience, though, and his style was somewhat predictable. Formal, skilled, well-practiced- but a little predictable. With a quick thrust forward, the point of her sword slammed into his forehead, and Hisagi staggered back.
"Point." He said, keeping his voice neutral, but she could tell he was a little irked. He was known to be professional, cool, but there was a streak of pride in him. Something he most likely considered a flaw.
"That puts the score at what, hmm?" Lisanna said, almost playfully.
"Twenty-one to sixteen in your favour, senpai." Shuhei said, his tone short. Too polite to say that she damn well knew, and was teasing him, of course. He was one of Erza's kids, and it showed in many ways. Stubbornly loyal, dedicated, skilled and devoted to his division. Where Renji had sought to be the best, Shuhei was a different kind of model officer; doing his damnedest not to prove anything to himself, but out of a selfless devotion to the Gotei, to his division, to the men and women under his command, following the example of his stoic captain.
An impressive officer. And also, on another note, kind of cute.
"Go again?" Lisanna said, circling the practice ground. They were in division thirteen, her home ground, in a private lodge for the highest ranked officers.
Shuhei simply nodded, eager to fight again. Just like his one-time mentor, he did not know when to give up. Lisanna was happy to oblige him. He was nearly at her own level, and made for good, challenging practice. She, of course, had risen to the top tiers of vice-captains with time. Her power and skill had been carefully nurtured over her many decades of service. Enough so, in fact, that it had earned her the rank of vice-captain here in thirteenth, Ukitake Jushiro finally deciding that the spot should not be vacant any longer. It was a lot of hard work, and Lisanna often found excuses to lead excursions into the Rukon, or the Living World, to purge hollows- risking life and limb was far more preferable than being cooped up in an office, filling in forms and reports.
She had come a long way since she first came here. The innocent, sweet girl from fairy tail had not died, not entirely, but she had hardened. The old Lisanna Strauss was a memory now, and vice-captain Strauss was who she was today, a strong, stern leader with a penchant for (appropriately sanctioned) violence. She didn't think of herself as stiff, but she was certainly the harder part of thirteen's leadership- captain Ukitake was not irresponsible or weak, but he was rather like a kitten compared to his more stern or dangerous colleagues, and Lisanna had often found herself needing to play the bad cop. Not that she minded.
Again Shuhei came in, in a vicious set of thrusts. She just barely kept up, but she knew what was coming- a set of hard, fast attacks designed to put her on the defensive, followed by a feint. With relative ease, she anticipated the attack, caught his sword as it went low, and simply head-butted him. Shuhei staggered back, a small look of frustration passing his face. He knew better than to complain that it was not according to formal rules. Much like Erza, Lisanna was a firm believer in real-life techniques, in being ready for everything, because battle was never as smooth or simple as a formal spar or duel.
"Twenty-two." She said simply, and shot him a smile.
"Yes, senpai." Shuhei said. Sweat was trailing down his forehead and arms- that sleeveless uniform really suited him.
"Again?"
He nodded.
"Good lad."
On the surface, Aizen Sousuke looked calm and ready, alert yet collected. Behind his desk, in his office, everything seemed quite normal, without any need for illusion.
But underneath, he was plagued with an almost childish urgency, an ache in his very being to be elsewhere- to sit on his throne, to command his army of monsters, standing in the light as the conqueror, the lord-to-be of all of the afterlife. The charade that he had kept alive for centuries would soon, very soon- not soon enough- be null and void, and he would finally be able to stop pretending. The prospect filled him with excitement, anxiety, a number of emotions he typically considered himself above. Calm and focus, it seemed, were things you learned to maintain, rather than a natural state of character. A few more weeks- perhaps a month, and then the appropriate formalities would be at the minimum requirements. Executions took a long time to pass; they were considered a grave and momentous occasion.
Of course, a small, irritably rational voice said, you could just find her, take her, and extract the orb in the peace and quiet of Hueco Mundo.
There was reason to that plan. To gain what he wanted, to keep his cover intact, secretly build up his army, and strike while the Gotei's guard was down. It would be the most ruthlessly pragmatic thing to do, the one with the greatest chance of success.
But, Aizen knew, he didn't want to. He was going to create a new world order, one of grandeur, excellence and magnificence. He was going to cast away the old order, take in the ones willing to accept his new ways, and destroy the ones stubbornly dedicated to true progress. It was not just a battle of soldiers, but a battle of ideas. This demanded a formal declaration of war. Perhaps it was not the most viciously practical idea- but he wanted them to see it coming. He wanted them to know their failure, to know they were made obsolete, to know that their arrogance and pride had blinded them. He would step into the light, for all to see, and then… he would feel complete.
That, and he frankly couldn't stand this life. Hiding who he truly was for all this time, smiling and pretending, to be awake and see every problem the worlds had- and to be surrounded by the intellectually inept, people too content and settled down to want to acknowledge the glaring, obvious problems of their world. It grated on him. He had hidden himself to achieve a greater objective, but his patience was running out. To spend further years posing as a blinded idiot, among a society of blinded idiots, was utterly intolerable.
He would step into the light. He would face the Gotei, head on, and kill its valiant defenders. He would create a new world order, and once it was done, he would rule over both Hueco Mundo and the Soul Society, like a god-emperor of soulkind.
The thought pleased him, and he smiled.
"Ah, hello captain. Is there something amusing?"
Aizen turned to look at the source of the cheery, almost chirping voice. He had left the door open, and in the doorway stood his loyal vice-captain, Hinamori Momo.
"Nothing at all, Hinamori," Aizen said, effortlessly sliding into his idiot-faced disguise, despite his unwillingness to do so. "I was simply reflecting on the progress of our division. We have done well as of late, and it pleases me."
"That's right!" Hinamori said happily. "Things run very smoothly these days. The worst we get are a few complaints, or misdemeanors among the rank-and-file. You probably run the best division in the Gotei, except perhaps for the First."
Of course he ran the best division. Despite his loathing for the order of things, Aizen had pride- or rather, his very existence was pride. A sloppy job would be untolerable.
"Oh, I don't know about that," he said meekly. "I think the captain of sixth might have a few things to say about that."
"Honestly, he is such a slave-driver," Momo huffed, in a small display of localized patriotism. "You run a tighter ship, without acting like some stone-faced statue. No offence to captain Kuchiki," she added hastily.
Hinamori was a bit of an oddity, Aizen mused. When first he had met her, he had seen a naïve, impressionable girl just waiting to find somebody to adore. Talented, but severely blinded, a perfect example that intelligence and skill did not translate to wisdom or vision. He had recruited her specifically because of that impressionability- a particularly compliant vice-captain suited his cover best, one that would never question him. Of course, she never had, loyal to the core as she was- but curiously, she had resisted his attempts to manipulate her for the most part. She still regarded him as a paragon and a hero, of course, but his attempt to subtly brainwash her had not gone through. Not that he had put that much effort into it; it had been more of a game, a way to exercise his skills.
The explanation, of course, was amusingly ironic. Her obsessive mind already had a fixation, a purpose, one that had driven her in another direction: Erza Scarlet, that pet project gone wrong.
Still, Hinamori was almost endearing, in her ways. He thought of her fairly highly, for somebody unenlightened- rather like a well-trained dog, really.
He also knew all about her little trips to the Rukon. Seeking out an old heretic deserter to learn his theories was an interesting choice indeed, and strangely out of character. Aizen had almost been tempted to seek him out himself, but had ultimately decided against it- it was of no interest to him, and his own experiments were much more fulfilling.
"I don't think he minds," he replied, with a hearty chuckle. "But let's not forget you have a lot of credit to take as well. I couldn't run this place half as well without you."
A bit of an exaggeration, but feeding her ego never hurt. He saw her cheeks flush, and knew he had succeeded.
"I'm just doing my best, really." She said, almost shyly. "It's no big deal."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Aizen said, keeping a smile on his face. "It wouldn't surprise me if you wore a haori some time in the future."
"Captain, don't tease!" Hinamori chided him.
"Who says I am teasing?" Aizen said, his tone deliberately teasing. Playing this game was sort of petty- but with his ascension so close yet so far away, he would take any distraction.
"A-anyway," Hinamori said, still a bit red in the face, "I brought the reports for last month's terminator missions. No casualties, sixty-three missions carried out, for a total of one hundred and twenty-seven hollows purged. We finished third after divisions one and eleven."
"Excellent results," Aizen said. "Put them on my desk, and I will review them."
Quickly, Hinamori obeyed.
"Don't let me detain you," Aizen said. It was a polite way of saying 'get out', and she got the hint. Smiling at him, she leaved.
Aizen watched her walk away. In a detached sort of way, he wondered what would become of her. She would be devastated, probably. Perhaps it would be kinder to kill her before it was time? After all, she would be an enemy once he waged his war. Aizen shrugged, and dismissed the thought. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't. In a small way, it felt difficult- putting down a good pet did not come easy, even when the rationale was solid.
It was evening, and Momo was headed back to her quarters. She had finished her duties for the day, and run a small errand- buying a few new teas. A nice, warm pot of tea, and she'd get into bed, maybe read a little before going to sleep.
Lost in thought as she was, she did not see it coming when a pair of strong hands grabbed her, one clamping over her mouth and the other twisting an arm behind her back, quickly pulling her into an alleyway. Momo twisted and flailed, trying to scream through the fingers of this attacker, her free hand reaching for her sword, but a kido flew out, wrapping around her wrist, holding it in place. Her mind was overwhelmed with fear- who was this? What was he going to do? A number of scenarios rapidly raced through her mind, each one more horrifying than the next. Then a low, quiet, slightly raspy voice said,
"Keep still. I'm not going to rape, kill or abduct you. I just need to talk."
Momo managed a somewhat angry, somewhat terrified 'Mmmmmph'.
"I'm going to let go of your mouth. Don't scream. Keep quiet. It's important- it's about Erza."
The voice was no-nonsense, neutral- and somewhat familiar. The pressure over her mouth eased, and Momo complied. She was in no mind to scream for help- unless this attacker had something good to say, she would set his head on fire and make it burn to ash. Slowly the grip on her arm eased, and Momo quickly turned around. It was Rod Sentry, the vice-captain of second.
"What the hell are you doing?" She hissed.
"Debriefing. I made sure nobody would be watching."
"You lunatic, have you ever considered just talking to people? Like a normal person?" Momo said angrily.
"Keep it down." Rod said, his face steely. "This is sensitive. Nobody else must know."
"You said it was about Erza?" Momo said, her curiosity winning out over her anger.
"She's likely to come back soon." Rod said plainly. "Naturally, you didn't hear that from me. In fact, you didn't hear it at all, and if anybody around you gets the impression that you did, you will be investigated for treason. Understood?"
"Lunatic!" Momo hissed again. "But… she's coming back?"
"Need-to-know only." Rod said. "For reasons relating to an old friend of hers, she may or may not come back to the soul society. When she does, she will make a ruckus. She will need friends."
"Friends?" Momo said blinking. "You mean- wait, you are on her side? You know she's innoce-"
Quickly, Rod clasped a hand over her mouth again.
"The way you say that so loudly is why nobody else told you." He said coldly. "Yes, she has friends. I already slipped a note to Lisanna Strauss. I'm contacting you in person because I need to make sure you don't fly off the handle. Be ready this coming month- and don't let it show."
"She's really… coming back?" Momo said, a little overwhelmed. The notion of it was like an emotional landslide, a flood sweeping over her mind.
"Maybe not." Rod said. "Either way she will need us. Can I trust you to keep quiet?"
"A-as a mouse!" Momo said emphatically, her anger having washed away.
"For what it's worth, you were right." Rod said. "Somebody did frame her."
"I knew she wouldn't-" Momo began, but Rod cut her off.
"That's enough chit-chat. Keep your head down, and I'll do the same. When the moment comes, do what you think is right- but don't be stupid about it. Think. That's all I ask."
"Umm, of course," Momo started. "I promise I will-"
But Rod had leaped onto a wall, and propelled himself to a roof, and from there slipped down onto another alley nearby, vanishing in the span of a few seconds. Momo sighed. Those stupid stealth corpsmen…
But the frustration was nothing compared to the elation. She was coming back. Her Erza was coming back, and she would need help. All her training, all her hard work, it would finally pay off. She balled her fists, and a firm look crossed her face.
I'll be ready, she thought. I won't let her down.
Its Ironic isnt it? As we just prepare to begin to Write Bleachs most well known, and considered by many to be its best, arc, the original cannon is ending. Its not ending how we WANT it to end, but it is ending.
Im...Still trying to accept that its happening this way. Now, dont get me wrong, I was so happy to see Momo one last time, So happy ro see that Rukia became a captain of the 13th division, so happy that alot of the characters I love got a happy ending.
But the knowledge that this ending is so clearly being rushed, so many questions that we the readers still have, so many Bankais unknown, that I cant say im 100% satisfied.
Admittedly, For an ending that was given only 6 chapters, I think its done well, and I should be happy it was a decent as it was...But I know, and we ALL know that this isnt the ending we we're promised, that we wanted.
I'm praying that the special news is the anime returning, so we can get a REAL ending or perhaps a sequel, just SOMETHING.
However, regardless of what happens, Im happy that ive found Bleach as a series. Ive enjoyed it for 8 years, and while its far from perfect, Ill always remember and enjoy the good times it gave me.
However, I promise all of you readers that we will deliver a story that all of you will enjoy, a satisfying ending, and a great tale full of fun and adventure!
The soul society arc will be quite a bit different from the cannon version. Erza's presence is bound to do so, but the addition of Tatsuki, Orihime's new powers, as well as various other things will undoubtedly bring you all new and fun experiences.
With that all said, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Please feel free to leave a review though, we greatly enjoy reader feedback.