I don't have much in the way of opening the chapter this time around. I just hope that you all leave a review to give us your thoughts. Enjoy.

Bleach is owned by Tite Kubo and Shönen Jump. Fairy Tail is owned by Hiro Mashima and Weekly Shönen Magazine. I own NOTHING. This is all just for fun.

Later the next evening, when the worst of her captainly chores had been handled, Erza had set up a makeshift HQ in her office. Momo had brought eleven files, along with a stack of relevant books and documents. Yoruichi had been invited, too, because her perspective thus far had proven quite useful. Erza's desk was overburdened, and a large whiteboard imported from the world of the living was conspicuously placed in the middle of the room, singlehandedly ruining the room's aesthetics.

"Well, I can see you've decided to enact your revolution with books." Yoruichi snorted. "What happened to going out there, knocking on doors?"

"As soon as we're done here," Erza said firmly. "But I decided to do a bit of research first."

"She means having me do the research for her," Momo said cheerily.

"See, you're learning already," Yoruichi said with a grin. "Delegate; always delegate. You have underlings for a reason."

"She's not—" Erza started.

"If we're honest, I kind of am. Literally," said Momo. "I don't mind. Do you think I got into kido without doing a ton of research? If I had more time, I'd have created a colour-coded filing system by now."

"She gets it," Yoruichi sniggered.

Erza sighed, deciding not to fight it. "The pictures, Momo?" she asked.

"On it," said Momo, in quick succession pinning eleven photos to the whiteboard with magnets. She was fast, and judging by the size of the folders she had prepared, she had thrown herself into this with gusto. She even had a stick to point at things with.

"These," she said, pointing energetically as she finished setting up the pictures, "are the eleven currently seated members of the Central Forty-six. All of them are older men, drawn from the nobility."

"No surprise there," said Yoruichi sardonically.

"Why don't we go through them?" asked Erza.

"Sure thing," Momo said, nodding enthusiastically. "We'll start with the Tsunayashiro. There's Tsunayashiro Kouten and Tsunayashiro Torii," she said, pointing to two white-haired old men wearing the same formal regalia. To Erza, they looked almost identical.

"From Tokinada's inner circle, no doubt," Yoruichi said. "I remember them from before I went into exile. They've been around forever."

"We can just forget about them," said Momo dismissively. "They vote the way their leader tells them to, from my research. They're old, wealthy, and loyal, and their interests conflict with our own. We cannot expect to work with them."

"To be fair, everyone votes in the interests of their clans," Yoruichi said thoughtfully. "Unless the motion has no particular bearing on house interests, the Forty-six just vote either directly in their house's favour, or with the coalition they've formed."

"Is that all this is?" Erza said disappointedly. "Democracy, for the very richest, with no regard for what's best for the Gotei?"

"Not no regard, but more or less," Yoruichi said, shrugging. "You have to remember that before the Forty-six, they resolved their differences on the battlefield. I'm no great supporter of the assembly, but it beats the alternative."

"I'm sure that thousand years ago it was a great innovation," Erza said coldly. "You're sure there's nothing we can do?"

"I could try to dig up some dirt on them," Yoruichi said amusedly. "Nobody gets that far up without some skeletons in their closet. Blackmail works wonders for people's willingness to cooperate."

"…I'd rather not commit to corrupt methods before we've even gotten started," said Erza uneasily, wondering if that's what it would take. Yoruichi laughed, and shrugged. "Next?"

"There's Kuchiki Shuichi, Kuchiki Souten and Kuchiki Yoshikata," Momo said, pointing in rapid succession. "Unsurprisingly, the Kuchikis were able to get three candidates in before anyone else. Shuichi and Souten are quite young, relative to what you normally get from these people at least. I looked at their files and they seem less… entrenched, let's say. There's potential there."

"But they'll never go against their clan. Remember that," Yoruichi said.

"Potential is good. I'll take it," Erza said, nodding. "Next?"

"Shihoin Kazoku and Shihoin Sesshou," Momo said quickly. "Both of them are actually kind of… obscure. They were both educated in the academy and have a record of service, both in the divisions and in the Stealth Corps, but they have no experience with public office. It's a bit strange."

"Not the least. Qualifications exist, but the rules bend if the houses need them to," Yoruichi said, shaking her heads. "My brother has chosen two puppets. Reliable for getting the votes you want, but not so much if you want capable service. Puppets are loyal, but function poorly without oversight. Who knows—maybe they're getting a crash course, but we can expect them to do whatever they're told."

There was a hint of distaste in her voice, and Erza quietly approved.

"Then there's Kyouraku Tadachika and Kyouraku Tsubone," Momo continued. "An older conservative type, and a not-as-old, not-as-conservative type, basically. They're associated with the Shihoins from past alliances and have something of a rivalry with the Kuchiki, but it's sort of one-sided. Worth keeping in mind for coalitions.

"That leaves only the two wild cards: Feng Chiang and Kasumiouji Genji, both seats from minor houses."

"As in, their piece of the pie for supporting a bigger coalition," Yoruichi said. "Feng… I'm surprised to see that name on the roster."

"What about them?" said Erza.

"Well, another way of spelling it is Fong. Like, as in Soi Fong?"

"…Soifon's family?" Erza said, surprised. "I thought they were like… a bodyguard type thing? Like, a servant family?"

"They were," Yoruichi nodded. "But Soifon… well, she sort of alienated the Shihoins from their place in power in the Stealth Corps. Made it meritocratic, effectively purging them from an institutional power they used to have. It's a big part of the power and prestige they lost after I left. Part revenge, part general dislike for the corruption that comes with that kind of institution. She's very diligent, my girl."

She sounded proud, smiling as she finished speaking.

"So… what, is Soifon, like, head of a clan?" Erza asked, puzzled.

"No, that's her grandmother. But Soifon outstrips her in influence like the Sun dwarfs the Moon. If Soifon wanted that seat, all she'd have to do is say, 'Get out.' She's too dedicated to her work to get involved in that, though."

"…And now they're up for a seat?"

"Well, I guess they had to do something." Yoruichi continued. "Those reforms drove a wedge in between the Feng and the Shihoin. The split is not official, but in practical reality it is. A mere servant rising up to strip them of their power did not go over well with the Shihoin leadership, and the Feng suffered for it."

"That's—" Erza started indignantly.

"Cruel and unfair? Yes. Welcome to Gotei politics," Yoruichi said flatly. "My best guess is that the Fengs have had to adapt since, building a power base of their own. We should find out who they're tied to. Feng Chiang… if I recall correctly, he's an old Stealth Corps operative. The hard, old-school cut-throat type. More a soldier than a politician. You might find common ground with him there, but he might not approve of your close ties with Soifon."

"…Right," Erza said, digesting this. She'd never asked about Soifon's family, and Soifon had never told her anything.

"That leaves only Kasumiouji Genji," said Momo. "He's unassuming. Seems like he just worked as a clan records keeper until he was nominated."

"A puppet?" Erza asked.

"You'd think, but as record keeper he'd be pretty close to the political power structure. He'd be privy to a lot of sensitive information as it happened. Like a powerful secretary position. He would have to have a pretty strong record to get there."

Yoruichi whistled. "Look at you, Momo. That's entirely correct—you really did your research, huh?"

"I try," Momo said, beaming with pride.

"Who are they?" Erza asked. "That family?"

"The Kasumioujis were… kind of irrelevant in my time," Yoruichi said. "Just one of dozens of poor, near powerless noble houses barely hanging on to power by orbiting the more powerful families, making what deals they could. It has been a hundred years since, but I'm still impressed. Being considered for a Central Forty-six position, even when they're up for grabs like this, is a major achievement for any smaller clan."

"And their values? Conservative? Less so?"

"You're focusing. Good," Yoruichi said, nodding. "I actually don't know. I think… their clan head is very young? That has potential on its own."

Erza nodded. "Alright. Well, on paper, this looks… good. If we got the Shihoins and Kuchikis on board, all we'd need is a single more vote and we're good."

Yoruichi snorted. "That's sort of like saying, 'If only I can roll this huge boulder up the mountain, rolling it down will be easy.' But, it's doable. Just don't expect it to come easily, because it won't."

She decided to start with Kyouraku. After a brisk walk to his office, she found herself in front of his desk. The captain of Eighth had changed in these weeks. He rarely smiled these days, and a perpetually tired expression hung over him like a dark cloud. The death of his friend had to haunt him; Erza knew that sensation better than anyone. Regardless, he seemed well put together. As far as she could tell he had not missed a single day of work, an unprecedented thing before the war. He had even discarded his pink jacket, which hung by the door. In the normal white and black of a captain, without his hat or his usual jolly expression, he looked like a whole different person. There were bags under his eyes, and she wondered if it was from lack of sleep or something worse.

"Captains Scarlet," he said cordially, with only a hint of subdued joviality in his voice, "what can I do for you?"

"I hate to impose…"

"And here you are, imposing. Lay it out," said Shunsui neutrally.

Erza shrugged, and quickly explained her proposal, the idea behind it and the support she needed. The moment she got to that last part, he cut her off.

"And if only I can get six votes-"

"No," he said firmly.

Erza blinked.

"Captain Kyouraku, will you at least please hear me out?"

He shook his head. "With all due respect, I can't and I won't. For the first time in… centuries, really, I am working full time. I am giving my division everything I've got, because they need it. Because it's what… what he would have done."

Erza nodded respectfully.

"I never meddled in clan politics unless they managed to get in such a deadlock that their childish squabbles had to be resolved by their head. I was always happy to let them handle that on their own. Who needs the headache of these politics? They matter only if you let them."

Erza bit back an indignant response about how easy it is to say that when you're rich and wealthy, how he had a responsibility… no, lecturing him would feel like an attack, doubly so now that he was finally taking his responsibilities as captain fully seriously. Instead, she said, "There has to be something you can do. You don't have to care about the things I do, but…"

"It's not that I can't, it's that I won't. If you want to jump into that pit of vipers, then feel free to do so, but respectfully, I will be left out of it."

"Your own master supports this initiative," said Erza. She had known he would be a tough nut to crack, but being shut down this hard this quickly was worse than she had expected.

"Old Yama has to do a bit of politicking. Comes with the job. I do not envy him that—and I am very happy to leave that to him and nobody else."

Erza sighed, defeated. "Fine," she said, shrugging. "Sorry to waste your time, captain."

She had to have made a sad figure, because Shunsui's expression softened.

"You really need to get a bit pushier if you're going to do politics, you know," he said with a small smile.

"I'm sorry, am I going to get lectured after being told a flat 'no' to everything I asked?" Erza said irritably.

"See, that's more the spirit," he said, nodding enthusiastically. "Be pushy. Be demanding. Act like you're very important and people need to know. Humility is a fine character trait, but it's useless in Gotei politics."

"Er… give me my support, or else?" said Erza confusedly.

"That's one route, sure," Shunsui said, something of the old levity returning to his voice, "although I wouldn't say that if I didn't have real leverage."

"How about asking as a friend?"

"Emotional manipulation? That is very good in the right circumstances," Kyouraku nodded.

"I'm not—"

"I know you're not. I'm just teasing," he said dismissively. "Tell you what—talk to my retainer. Old guy named Shinsuke. He effectively runs the clan in my stead. Bit of a pain in the ass, pretty manipulative, but he's good at his job and eager for more. I'll let him know I'm not opposed to this idea, per se. Should soften it up a little."

"That's… something."

"Beats nothing, doesn't it? I'm giving you an in. You've got a shot here, just leave me out of it."

Erza nodded. "I'll take it. Thank you."

"Oh, don't thank me. The old stooge negotiates like a real bastard. You'd better make him a good offer."

"…Offer?"

"Money, property, favours, that sort of thing."

"…You mean just buying votes?" Erza said, appalled.

"What, you think you'll just sit down with them and talk to them nicely until they decide to do what you want out of the goodness of their heart? Unless their clan head tells them otherwise, they'll look for a tit-for-tat. Why do you think I stay out of politics?"

Erza grimaced.

"Yeah, exactly," said Kyouraku, grinning. "Good luck, Scarlet. You'll need it."

Erza shook her head. What was she getting herself into?

This, or Aizen's way, she reminded herself.

Erza's second stop was the Shihoin manor. She had sent out envoys ahead of time to schedule an audience with the clan head, and despite the short notice she had been granted one. Whether it was the reputation or whether her initiative was—somehow—spreading around already, she didn't know. It didn't matter. The Shihoins were an important house, and securing the two votes they controlled would be key.

The manor was no less ostentatious in its extravagant wealth and luxury than the Kuchiki house; all gold and white silks, with the Shihoin clan crest embroidered on great tapestries on the wall. As she was ushered through a great hall by an aged retainer, Erza felt as if she had been transported to another world—which, in a sense, it was. One could live a whole life inside these walls without ever having to interact with the outside world if one so wished, being none the wiser about the struggles outside the compound walls. The inherent injustice of such extravagant wealth held by these distant, callous nobles while the poor struggled with almost nothing rankled her.

You're here to negotiate, she reminded herself. Not to moralize. Work with them, not against them—for now.

Once there, the retainer slowly opened a pair of great doors before bowing deeply and gesturing for her to step inside. The main hall of the manor resembled nothing so much as a throne room, a good twenty yard walk required before you could reach the steps leading up to the throne. Three steps tall, the dais upon which it rested made sure that anyone standing there would be looked down upon by the clan head. Unsure of the protocols of civility, Erza approached slowly. She'd had to surrender her weapon before entering, and that left her feeling underdressed. At least she still had her plate mail. Stopping before the first step, she bowed. Not too deeply, but enough to convey respect—or so she hoped.

There upon the throne sat a young man. Or, at least he looked as such; she was sure he was well over a century old. The resemblance to Yoruichi was uncanny; not only did he have the same dark skin and the same sharp features, but he had the same sly look about him, like he knew something you didn't and was a little amused by it. Unlike Yoruichi, though, he looked quite comfortable in his luxurious regalia, wearing a black-and-gold set of flowing robes, exposing his shoulders and upper arms. He looked fit and alert, with golden eyes that looked at her intently. He wore his hair in a ponytail. Behind him, two nearly-as-well dressed older men sat on smaller seats—retainers or advisors, Erza guessed.

"Your grace," she started, "I am much obliged—"

"How dare you address the clan head first?" snarled one retainer. "Shame on you, captain. His Excellency will not be looked down upon by the likes of you, not even a captain—"

He fell silent suddenly, as the clan head raised a hand.

"Let us not berate our guest so," he said softly, his voice smooth. "She is a stranger in our realm, unaccustomed to our ways. We can forgive these smaller transgressions without issue."

"…Of course, clan head. Forgive me," said the retainer, the hot air having run out of him entirely.

"Think nothing of it. Captain Scarlet, I am Shihoin Yuushirou Sakimune, the twenty-third head of my clan. I am told you have a matter of some import to discuss?"

"…Yes, your grace."

"Lord Shihoin will do. Ah, screw it—just call me Yuushirou."

The retainers behind him bristled, but kept their mouths shut.

"…Lord Yuushirou," Erza said, "as I was saying, I am grateful to be received in this manner. I am sure you have quite a busy schedule."

"Busy enough, but not too busy. As evidenced by our meeting, of course."

Erza nodded. His tone had started formal, but quickly turned playful. "As I was saying—"

"Actually, I was wondering—how is my sister these days? She's come to visit me all of one time since she came back. It's not like she's busy being a captain, you know?"

Erza blinked, and ignored how she'd been interrupted. Confusedly, she said, "I thought you were not on good terms. She did not… speak fondly of the clan when she last mentioned it."

"Well, we were quite cross with her back when we thought she was a traitor, but with her being a victim of that dastardly character Aizen, we have revoked the formal renunciation of her noble status. All she'd need to do is accept, and she would be welcomed back. But she won't accept, let alone show up for it. Strange, isn't it?"

"…I think she mentioned spending time with Soifon," Erza said cautiously. "Making up for lost time."

"Ah," he said, nodding knowingly. "Yes, having a new partner does have a certain charm, doesn't it? That must be it. But, please let her know I'd like for her to come around more often. I always looked up to her, growing up. She was an excellent clan head."

The retainers bristled quietly again. Erza found it amusing, resisting the urge to smile a little.

"Anyways, Lord Yuushirou…"

"Oh, yes. The thing you came here for, of course," he said, waving a hand dismissively.

Quickly, Erza laid out her proposal in its essence, explaining the need for votes. Yuushirou looked a bit pensive, taking a minute to think before responding.

"You're asking us to surrender troops to the benefit of the Gotei. It's a noble goal, I suppose, but what is in it for us?"

"I assume you need a better deal than simply strengthening the Gotei at a critical time, lord?" said Erza, holding back the sarcasm. Again the retainers looked offended, but bit their tongues.

"We always have been close allies to the Gotei," Yuushirou said thoughtfully. "If we could make a good enough deal… I am certainly open to the idea."

"What sort of deal?" said Erza, feeling wary.

"We're looking to expand our influence within the Gotei itself. The idea of more Shihoin officers could be worth giving up some household troops… and like you said, it is for a good cause."

"That might be doable," said Erza, feeling hopeful. Yamamoto would not say no to more capable soldiers, inexperienced or not. "Do we have an agreement?"

"Not so fast, and not so easily," Yuushirou replied. "The Shihoin clan receives your proposal in good faith, and will deliberate upon it. I must take time to consult my advisors before making any rash moves, you see."

"Of course. There… is something of a time table on this. Within two weeks, a new seat will have been ratified, and an easy majority will no longer be achievable."

"A couple of days should do," Yuushirou said dismissively. "We will dispatch a messenger with our reply. We will have to make specific negotiations—I suggest you check with whoever else is involved what you can and can't assure."

Erza nodded. "I will do that. Thank you, clan head."

"Don't thank me yet, captain. We do not reject this, but we give no guarantees either."

"It is all I ask," Erza replied.

"Will that be all?"

"Yes, Lord Yuushirou."

"Very well, then. Give Yoruichi my love. The retainer will see you out."

Erza left the mansion, her spirits uplifted. Their terms seemed to work well with her own aims. If their goals were the same, or at least similar, why wouldn't they work alongside each other? She quickly cautioned herself against being too optimistic. This was a good first step, but the hard part was still left.

There was a ruckus.

Ruckuses were a common enough thing. Although the worst had been covered by now, Fourth Division was still overflowing with wounded. Many severe injuries took time to heal, even with consistent application of medical kido, and the worst cases would take months to recover, with long and gruelling physical therapy on top of it. Isane had shared the administrative burden with her captain, whose immaculate skill as a healer was absolutely indispensable in the aftermath of the Battle of Karakura, as it was becoming known.

Even with the worst of the injuries finally treated, the sick wards were still over capacity. Isane recalled the immediate days after with a shiver. They'd been forced to leave people lying on the streets outside. All less severe injuries had been neglected out of cold, practical necessity, and infections had run rampant. Many wounds had become worse for lack of treatment. Many had died alone and uncared for, soldiers who could have been saved if a single hand could have been spared to care for them. It was only her captain's leadership that had held them together since.

Now the peace she had worked so hard to uphold was being threatened, again. Sighing, Isane got up from her chair, leaving the paperwork she'd been chewing through one page at a time on her desk. Stepping out of her office, she headed down the hall. She had to navigate past beds left in the hallways; they still had too little space to spare in the actual wards. The tumult grew louder as she headed toward it, angry voices screaming at each other.

As she turned around a corner, she saw the issue. Two large, burly mean bearing the insignia of—what else—Eleventh Division, staring down a thin, tall man with the insignia of Fifth.

"…you fucking coward, you think you can talk down to us?" snarled the first of the two men of Eleventh, a burly, short type with broad shoulders and a wide moustache. "Our boys held the line time and again, and paid the price in blood. Your boys in Fifth, you barely even took casualties!"

"We bled and died by the dozen," snarled the thin man. "The fuck are you doing, getting jealous that we did a better job than the one division that can't do anything but grunt fighting?"

"You better shut that mouth of yours before I add a new something for the doctors to treat," snarled the second of the Eleventh soldiers, taller and muscular than either of the other men.

Isane groaned inwardly. The room was dominated by the three; everyone else was either hurriedly leaving or standing near the walls, watching with morbid fascination. All three had injuries; the short man had his left arm in a sling, and the other two had bandages from wounds sustained in battle. The whole situation was moments away from turning to blows. She had to do something right now.

"Alright, you three, that's enough," she said, marching up to them. To her frustration, she was ignored completely.

"Sounds like a threat to me, thug," said the man of fifth, eyes narrowing.

"You got that all on your own?" Growled the muscular soldier. "And here I thought we in Eleventh were supposed to be kinda dumb."

"Well, if the shoe fits—"

Something in Isane boiled over. She had been through absolute hell. She had seen combat. She had managed the hospital in the field. She had spent almost a month caring for the dying, putting people back together whom should have succumbed long ago. She'd had enough of the disrespect.

"Stand to attention, all three of you!" she shouted.

That did the trick. The three turned around to look at her, blinking with surprise.

"I said stand to attention," she hissed. "I am a superior officer, and that was an order!"

Slowly, uncomfortably—and with some trouble—the three of them stood to attention. All of them stood taller than she, but Isane would not back down. She'd spent enough of her life doing just that.

"We're going to take a little walk down to my office," she said coldly, "where you will give me your names so I can write you up for disturbing the peace. I will personally make sure your captains hear of your names. You're not free from disciplinary action because you're wounded. Then, when that is done, I will escort you back to your sick beds. If I catch you causing trouble again, you're out on the streets. We're over capacity as it is, anyhow. If you're well enough to start fights, then you're well enough to be dismissed. Do any of you feel like going home yet?" To accentuate the point, she let her spiritual energy flare.

This was a bluff. Neither Unohana nor Isane's own ethics would allow her to just throw out people in need. It was a weak hand, and all she could do was hope.

However, it seemed to work. All three of them looked down, suddenly seeming more like oversized schoolboys, scolded into submission.

"I thought so," she said, trying her best for a haughty tone. "Are we all clear on this?"

They remained silent for a while, so she repeated, "I said, are we clear?"

She got a chorus of 'yes ma'am', and nodded firmly.

"Then follow me to my office."

"Ma'am—" started the burly soldier.

"Vice-captain Kotetsu," she said firmly.

"…Er, yes, Vice-captain Kotetsu, ma'am," he said. "There's, uh… there's no need for this. Just, uh, a misunderstanding. We're all veterans here. Proud to serve together, eh? Same battlefield. Practically blood brothers."

The soldier of fifth made a face, but said, "A misunderstanding. Yeah. We don't want to take up your valuable time, vice-captain. We'll return to our beds."

"Real quiet-like," added the muscular soldier.

"And I won't catch any of you involved in any mischief later, will I?" said Isane, furrowing her brows. She seemed cold on the outside, but inside she felt… almost giddy.

"None, ma'am," they reassured her, in so many words.

Uninterested in adding more paperwork, she said, "I'll take your names. Just to be sure. I won't write you up, but if I hear you did something like this again… it will be counted."

The three seemed to want to grumble, but ultimately complied. After writing their names down on a scrap of paper, she sent them on their way, each accompanied by a nurse. She breathed out, suddenly feeling more energized than she had in weeks. There was a spring in her step as she returned to her office.

"That was impressive," said Nemu, coming up behind her, following her inside the office.

"Well, I… I was through being ignored," Isane said, shrugging. Unable to stop herself, she smiled broadly. "All I want is a little bit of respect for the people who literally save your lives, you know?"

"Reasonable," Nemu nodded. Isane took a seat behind her desk. "Anyway, here are my reports of the last batch of blood tests. It seems the hospital is still at risk for widespread infections, but nothing serious seems to be breaking out." Nemu placed a folder on Isane's desk.

"Thank goodness," Isane murmured, reclining in her chair. "Say… how are you holding up down there, in our labs?"

"They're a bit rudimentary, and the tasks are simple. But they keep me busy."

Nemu had been a rock. She was able to do the workload of five people, seemingly, and it had freed up vital personnel to care for the wounded.

"Do you miss working at twelfth?" Isane asked, gently placing a hand on Nemu's.

"I… do," Nemu admitted with a sigh. "I do not miss being beaten and berated, but… I was made to do that sort of thing. Literally. And, more importantly, I enjoy it."

"Shame your father was not among the casualties," Isane muttered, only half regretting the words.

"Who knows what the future will bring? I'm not unhappy here. I do good work, and I am close to you. I can't ask for much more."

There was definitely a conflict of interest—dating one's co-workers was not good policy—but Isane did not have it in her to care about protocol.

"Yeah… who knows," she muttered.

Her next stop was Sixth Division. Securing an appointment there had been a lot easier than going through the channels with the noble houses; as colleagues, it had been easy enough to come up with a legitimate reason to schedule a meeting. Erza disliked doing this—it felt disingenuous—so she had made sure to make the meeting about something real and useful to the division; in this case, a meeting about cooperating on logistics to ease the flow of supplies from one division to another.

The issue itself was easily enough resolved. It involved some rather boring detail work best left to their respective vice-captains. The matter being settled, Byakuya had fallen silent. Erza looked at him from where she sat in his office, knowing that this was where she was expected to politely excuse herself and leave.

"Will that be all?" said Byakuya.

"There is one more matter I hoped to discuss," Erza said, pushing down a sense of guilt. This was above board, and perfectly within the bounds of professional conduct.

Byakuya nodded. "By all means."

Erza took a deep breath, and laid out her proposal. Soldiers from the noble houses. Patrols in the rukon. Recruitment drives. She kept it short and succinct, knowing that the captain would not be fooled by some pretense of patriotism.

"…I see," Byakuya said. "You aim to strengthen the Gotei. Uncharacteristic of you, captain."

"I am making its goals align with my own. This is my way of affecting some measure of change, Captain Kuchiki. I am… adjusting to the position I am in, let's say."

He gave her an inscrutable stare. "You rather have changed, Captain Scarlet. That is a mature approach for a progressive."

"Thank you," Erza said, wondering how backhanded a compliment that was. "We all change, I suppose. We must. In light of recent events…" She shrugged.

"Some things must change, yes." Byakuya nodded. "It is as good a time as any to make necessary changes. Then again, at such times, preserving the traditions and society that kept us stable and secure becomes more important than ever."

Erza held back a surge of frustration, urging herself to remain calm. That was not a rejection. Not yet.

"I ask for nothing that would threaten the foundations of this society, Captain Kuchiki. It is necessary and beneficial."

"You have made your case. It is not unconvincing as such. But you ask the Kuchiki house to give up strength, which doubtless will be used against us by our rivals."

"Strength? These are soldiers you do not even use."

"Yet it is strength all the same. If every clan agreed…"

"If this proposal goes through, they will have to do it, whether they want to or not."

"That is the other aspect to it. You set a precedent for more power in the hands of the Gotei. This very system was created to prevent just that. It was the will of the Soul King that matters of state be left to the wisest among us. Our society should not be ruled by the military. We exist to serve, not to lord over others."

"But—you—"

A million arguments ran through Erza's mind. This is just clan rule. This is the same thing you're talking about, with extra steps. You're protecting your own status and power. She grit her teeth, and breathed in.

"The Forty-six… if the idea is a balance of power, why should we not have more of it?"

"We just fought a war with a man who believed we should," said Byakuya coolly. "It is not a balance of power, Scarlet. It is submission to a greater wisdom, as envisioned by the Soul King, our lord and sire. Your idea has implications that run contrary to the vision for how our society was meant to run, in addition to weakening the status of my clan, which I am obligated to protect. You have earned my respect, captain, which is not given lightly, but I cannot support you in this endeavour. I must decline."

Erza leaned back, deflated. This was a heavy blow. With three out of eleven members being Kuchiki, that meant the six she needed… she had to get every last non-Tsunayashiro on board, or this would be dead.

"I… understand," she sighed, sounding defeated. "There is no point in arguing. I respect you, too, captain, but you're not the type to have a flexible mind once settled on a course of action."

"Not untrue," Byakuya conceded.

"That being the case, I must be on my way. I have more errands to run. Work never stops, you know?"

"Indeed," Byakuya said, nodding politely as she stood up.

As Erza left, her mind boiled with disappointment. Should she have pushed the issue? Leaned harder? Negotiated? What did she even have to negotiate with?

She had been told this would not be easy. But, she was of Fairy Tail stock, and giving up was not something they did while there was even a sliver of hope left.

She had another appointment this afternoon. She had agreed to spar with Zaraki Kenpachi, on the strict condition that they use only wooden training blades. The Kenpachi had grumbled about it, but she had refused to budge—it was that, or nothing at all. Predictably, he had already broken five of them, and the spar was not yet done.

"Using these shit ass sticks is like dry humping when you want to fuck," Kenpachi grumbled, grabbing a fresh training blade from an attendee. The division had apparently been prepared for the worst; a sizeable stack of them had been laid out at the sidelines of the courtyard of Eleventh, where they sparred. They had drawn a crowd, because a formal spar was rare enough, and both of them had never been higher in terms of fame. Kenpachi had fought and bled and killed in his typical fashion, inspiring his troops through that battle with sheer carnage, and Erza… well, she was becoming a legend in her own right. Two legends clashing, even for training? It was bound to draw attention. Personally, Erza would not have abided such spectacle at her own division—it wasn't just her stuck with a huge workload: it was everyone, and gawking at a fight like this was unseemly—but this was his division, and his rules.

"You agreed to it. Don't complain about terms laid out long before we started," Erza said firmly. She had a lot on her mind, and as much as a good spar was a good way to vent her frustrations, she had no time for his petulance.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," Kenpachi grumbled, giving the next of his blades a test swing.

"There's a lesson here, actually. Not that I think it'd interest you."

"Like what?"

"I could shatter one as easily as you, but I don't. If you could restrain yourself well enough to fight with these without breaking them, you'd be a better fighter."

Kenpachi let out a bark of a laugh. "Lecturing me on blades, now, are you?"

"Sounds like it."

"Alright," said Kenpachi, to Erza's surprise. "What am I doing wrong?"

"…A lot, really," said Erza, blinking with wonder. Had he really just asked her that? "You're fast and you hit hard, and you have a lot of real experience killing things—"

"Hell yeah, I do," he said with a grin, his soldiers cheering from the sidelines.

"—but you've also built a lot of bad habits into your swordplay. You treat your blade like a blunt instrument, like it's there only to do damage and nothing else. It's your entire style and it works, but it's not that efficient."

"I got a body count that says otherwise."

"Now imagine those fights if you didn't have to work through a million flesh wounds every time."

"See, you're saying words, and I understand each one of 'em, but I still don't get what the fuck you're saying," Kenpachi laughed. His soldiers joined in, raucous laughter ringing through the arena.

"Fine. I don't care. You do your thing. It's not my job to make you a better fighter."

"Say I buy into your bullshit. What's a sword for if not doin' damage?" he said. He had to know, didn't he?

She noticed that the audience seemed enthralled. Watching their captain actually listen to something, even passively accepting the idea that he could have something to learn about swords from somebody else, had to be quite unusual.

"Defending, for one. Then there's basic strategy. Counterattacks, moving your enemy's blade one way to get them into the position you want, that sort of thing. Swords are weapons, meant to do damage, but they can be quite complex in the way they get you there. You never had any formal training, so you figured out what worked the hard way—which made you really good at some things, but also made you really ineffective in others. That's it, really."

"I'll buy it," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "You did beat me the one time, so you got to be on to something."

God, how long ago was that? Not very, all told. Funny how life changed.

"Again?" she asked.

"Again," he agreed.

The spar was inconclusive. He was good and sharp enough to keep her on her toes, and too willing to take hits for her to easily exploit an opening, but at the same time her superior swordsmanship kept giving her an edge. This was, of course, only one dimension of how a real fight would play out between them—mere skills with blades did not decide duels alone.

In the end, Erza worked up a sweat alongside Kenpachi, who broke another five blades before they were done, but after an hour had passed she called it off. Disappointed, the audience of Eleventh soldiers trailed out, leaving the two of them alone.

"Half-assed as this is, it weren't so bad," said Kenpachi.

"A 'thank you' would have done just fine," she replied.

"Look," he said, more quietly, "there was another reason I called you over. Only reason I put up with the shitty wooden swords, really."

"And here I'm usually the one with an ulterior motive, these days," said Erza, shrugging. Whatever he was up to had her curious.

"Look… let's walk and talk, yeah?"

"Sure."

He led her to the inside of the division compound. To her surprise, Eleventh had a well kept garden. There was a pond at its centre with four well groomed trees around it. Her reaction must have been obvious, because Kenpachi shot her an annoyed glance.

"Some of the lads are into meditation, being one with the blade and all that bullshit. Gotta give 'em some space to think about swords when they're not swingin' them, you know?"

"That's a very responsible gesture for a leader. I'm surprised."

"Old tradition, that sorta bullshit," Kenpachi grunted. "Look, the thing I wanted to ask about…"

"Yes?"

Kenpachi scratched the back of his head. Ever since he had come back from the battle he had not bothered putting his hair back up, and it seemed like that wild, untamed hair style was there to stay. He looked… different. Almost ashamed. Like a teenager, trying to confess to something bad he'd done, wrestling with his pride.

"It's dumb," he said at last, turning away.

"I think you asked me here for a reason," Erza said cautiously. She was sincerely curious now, and didn't want to risk saying something wrong. "If you just send me on my way, it'll be a hassle to call me over again, won't it?"

"Like—I dunno, it's—it's fucking dumb," he muttered, seeming genuinely at a loss.

"I'm sure it's not. I won't judge," Erza said, knowing that was not guaranteed.

"Look," he said, turning around suddenly, an anxious, semi-angry expression on his face, "what the fuck is it you like doing most? Like, what is it you live for? What's the one thing that matters most to you?"

Erza blinked. "My… friends, I suppose. I want to be near them, and I want to be good to them. And I want to do good for other people. If I can do these things, I'll be happy."

He nodded. "See, you keep it simple. I respect that. Not my thing, but it ain't that high-minded bullshit about justice and honour. But me… well, for me it was fighting. Go around looking for the next big fight. Drink, loiter, lead the lads in between. Simple existence, you know? Thought it was enough. It was enough my entire life."

"Until now?"

"I—I dunno. Something's not right."

"What changed, then?"

He grunted. "You know that arrancar chick, Nel whatshername?"

"Neliel," said Erza. "What about her? I know you lost to her in the failed invasion, and managed to beat her the second time in Karakura."

"I did. Thing is… neither of those fights was fun. At all. Which is fucking weird. Like, imagine if you woke up one day and realized you didn't care about friendship no more. Would feel pretty fucking weird, wouldn't it?"

"Very," said Erza, intrigued. "Why? What happened?"

He shrugged. "She was real fast, and hit like a load of bricks. Several loads, really. I couldn't do shit. She had longer reach, and did too much damage each time. I… I had to think to beat her. Had to come up with strategy, even if it was real simple. Couldn't do the normal thing where I just threw myself into it, because she just… beat me when I did that. A fight I can't fight the way I want to… I dunno, it's like having to breathe water all of a sudden, or some shit.

"And it got me thinking. Like, that could happen again. That thing that's ruining my fun. It's… shit, it keeps me up at night. Can't sleep. This weird fucking shit, I… I don't get it, and I don't know how to fix it."

"That's… fascinating," said Erza, still processing this. Kenpachi of all people was opening up. "Why would you come to me?"

"Shit, I dunno," Kenpachi said, shrugging. "You're hardheaded and you're pretty simple about shit, like me. Plus, you beat me, and I respect that. You're keyed into this shit more than I am, I guess. If it's a problem—"

"No, no, no," said Erza quickly, "it's not. Just… unexpected. So, you're actually losing sleep over this?"

He nodded. "At first I thought I was just pissed about a bad fight, you know? But it runs… deep, I don't fucking know. I ain't really the type to be in touch with your emotions."

"I figured."

"Look, for some reason… sometimes I don't even feel like fighting. Like it ain't what it used to be. And if I get there, I don't know what the hell to do with myself. Like there's… a hole in me that I need to fill, if that makes sense."

"I think I get it." Erza nodded.

"Then there's the visions. Like, when I do sleep, I keep… seeing shit. I don't remember what exactly, but there's a something there, and it's like it wants to talk to me but it's pissed at me at the same time. I don't know how I know this, I just do."

Erza blinked. Several times.

"I was about to suggest therapy," she said cautiously, "but… I think it might be something else."

"Good, 'cause therapy is bullshit."

"It's not, but let's focus. I think…"

"Spit it out," he demanded impatiently. "If you know what's wrong with me, don't keep me in suspense."

"I don't know for sure," said Erza slowly, "but I think… I think it might be your zanpakutou reaching out to you. Or, you reaching out to it, unconsciously. Maybe both."

"What?"

"You've done things a certain way in all your life. You've never had to rely on anyone else, not even a zanpakutou. Then suddenly you're faced with a situation where doing things your way doesn't work anymore. You're forced to try something new. It made you question yourself. It might have stirred your zanpakutou's spirit. Or, maybe you've tried to awaken it, somehow."

"Fuck…" Kenpachi said, rubbing his head. "I… after I recovered, when I was in the sickbed, I kept thinking to myself, 'I have to be stronger, I have to be better, I keep getting made a punk of and that's no good.' Like, that's all I was thinking of for two days straight. It stayed with me ever since. You think…?"

"I think that might be it, yeah."

"Then what the fuck do I do?"

"This is complicated," Erza sighed. "This is something people usually figure out in school. You're a unique case, I think. It's not like there's a manual on what to do for you. What matters, at the end of the day, is what you want to do about this."

"I want to not feel like shit. I want to not doubt myself. I want to be me again." Kenpachi snarled. "I'm Kenpachi, the best damn warrior in the Gotei. Being a snivelling coward who can't get over himself is fucking disgraceful."

"And, why did you never try and reach out to your zanpakutou?"

"Like you said, I never needed it. I was strong. Why would I?"

"Does the idea of having a partner to rely on bother you?"

"…Sorta," Kenpachi said thoughtfully. "Like, it's always been me and just me. Well, me and Yachiru. Never needed anyone else. I was brought up in a place where it was do or die, and a lot of people around me did the dying. Nobody to rely on but me. So, that's what I did. Everyone else here, having a voice in their head telling them what to do, that you gotta negotiate with… who the fuck needs that?"

"Does it scare you?"

"Like fuck I'm scared," he spat.

"…I think you're better off reaching out," said Erza slowly. "You may not have felt it, but all this time, your zanpakutou has been alone, isolated from its master. The idea isn't that you have this voice in your head telling you what to do: it's about… partnership. Your zanpakutou reflects you, and the more in sync you get with it, the more… whole you become, I guess. When you get along with your blade, you are as much you as you could possibly be. I am not a lot like my own spirit—he's prideful, haughty, and ambitious—but he's driven me to struggle harder and achieve greater things. He made me a better fighter. He reflects my own ambitions, in some ways, and by driving me forward I've accomplished more than I would otherwise. If you want to feel like yourself, maybe reaching out is what you need to do."

Kenpachi mulled over the words for some time, pausing to think. Erza almost expected him to shrug this off.

"Yeah, what the fuck," he murmured after over a minute of silence. "I mean, I'll try anything. I want this righted before it gets real bad, and if that's what it takes…"

"Not the best attitude, but it's a start."

"What is the right attitude, Scarlet?"

Erza sighed. "It involves humbling yourself, doing a lot of listening, and having empathy for what your spirit needs and wants, responding to them in dialogue. It's a lot of communication and negotiation."

"Fuck," said Kenpachi simply.

"Yeah… not your strong suit, I know. But, it's that, or whatever you're going through."

"It's like choosing between having one of your nuts crushed, or both," he grunted irritably. "Fine. Whatever the fuck I have to do, I guess. How…?"

Erza gestured toward the garden.

"Okay, you gotta fucking lay this out for me. I have no clue what you mean," Kenpachi said, sounding in between frustrated and angry.

"You said your men meditate here sometimes, right?"

"Yeah? It's pretty quiet, and the trees are like… representative of a warrior's indomitable spirit or some shit, whatever 'indomitable' means."

Erza walked forward to the pond, sitting down cross-legged in front of it, drawing her blade and laying it over her lap. She took a few deep breaths, and relaxed herself.

"Go on," she said.

Awkwardly, Kenpachi followed her lead. He managed to get into a cross-legged position, but looked fundamentally out of place.

"I feel fuckin' stupid," he grunted.

"This is what you do. You take long, deep breaths, in and out, like this…" she demonstrated a few times, "…and you close your eyes and listen. Not for the outside world, but the inside. That gnawing thing at the edge of your mind, that gets louder when you try to sleep? That's what you're going for."

Kenpachi breathed in, breathed out, and closed his eyes. He focused, closed his eyes, and…

"Holy shit," he muttered. "I… feel something. And now it's gone, fuck."

"You have to concentrate on that and only that," said Erza. "I would put… at least two hours a day into this."

"For how long?"

"Months?" said Erza. "Maybe years; who knows. Your spirit has been isolated for a lot of time. It should at least alleviate your issues."

"You're telling me I have to sit on my ass and listen to this inner voice bullshit, two hours a day?" Kenpachi said, incredulous.

"That, or…"

"Or things as is. Alright, fucking hell," he muttered. He breathed in deep, focusing again. Carefully, Erza stood up.

"This work is best done alone, without distraction," she explained. "I wish you the best, though."

"…Sure, whatever," he muttered. "Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome," Erza smiled, and walked away.

The time of miracles, apparently, had not yet passed.

She had time for one more stop before she had to return to her division, try in vain to catch up with the growing mountain of paperwork, and fall asleep exhausted. She wished she'd had the time to clean herself up a little; the spar with Kenpachi had left her sweaty and her hair in disorder. As much leeway as the haori gave her, Erza still wanted some standards kept.

Is this really me now, worrying about propriety? About appearances?

How far she'd come from the messy, rowdy guildhalls.

Her next stop was the Kasumioiji mansion. It was located some distance away, at the outside of the grounds where the nobility made their home, and Erza resorted to a few steps of shunpo to get there in a timely manner. It took some time to find it, but eventually, she was ushered inside. Each house thus far had been eager to speak to her, it seemed; the people she had sent out to arrange a meeting with had all accepted even on short notice. Perhaps her heroic reputation was good for something.

The Kasumioiji compound was, as Erza had expected, luxurious and ostentatious but noticeably less so than the Shihoin manner. Smaller and less excessively furnished, it was clear they held less sway. Once again, Erza held back her disgust for this petty, shallow social competition. How much food could even one of the priceless vases in the Shihoin mansion have bought?

To her surprise, she was led not to a grand reception hall but to a quiet room to the side. It was well furnished, to be sure, but the dim lights, small table, and little sitting mats made it look more like a room where covert deals were made than an official reception area.

An old man was seated on one of the mats, and gestured for her to sit down. His face was wrinkled, his eyebrows were bushy, and he wore a red coat over what looked like a shinigami's uniform. The wizened look on his face was almost menacing; this was some sort of clan elder, and no mistake.

"Captain Scarlet," he said smoothly as she sat down, "the house of Kasumiouji is pleased to receive you. I am Kumoi Gyoukaku, the senior retainer of this noble clan."

"With all due respect, senior retainer, I came to see the clan head," Erza said stiffly. "Is she not here?"

"We would have given you a more official reception, if possible, but you have a reputation for frankness. I thought to spare you the pomp and tell you the truth. Our noble leader is… young and uneducated. I negotiate all clan matters in her stead. As I am told you are here on official business, I thought it prudent that you be directed to me right away."

"So, you're the real power behind the throne right now, huh?"

"That is one way to put it. Of course, I only act in her stead until she has reached the appropriate age to start leading our clan forward. But, until then…"

Everything about this man set off alarm bells with Erza. He was the very image of a dignified, worthy clan elder, but…

He deliberately cut out the pomp and circumstance. Clans love an opportunity to be formal, to show off their wealth and protocols. A meeting like this should have taken place after a formal introduction. What is he hiding?

"I understand your situation," she said cautiously, "but… I think I'd rather at least meet your leader once. It would feel disrespectful not to. Child or not, she should know what's going on in her clan."

"Our beloved Lady Rurichiyo is indisposed, unfortunately," said Kumoi. "I will be more than happy to negotiate in her stead. I am sure we could come to some kind of… beneficial agreement."

He doesn't want me to meet her. Why?

At best, he was worried she would be taken advantage of by an ambitious captain. At worst, he was usurping her power to negotiate. Kasumiouji Rurichiyo was supposedly quite young, but…

One wasn't supposed to judge people based on first impressions alone, or on one's preconceived notions—but these were the noble clans, and expecting people to be self-interested schemers seemed to be a pretty safe bet. Something about this man felt subtly wrong to Erza, setting off little alarm bells. She was a rational creature, but she had learned not to ignore her instincts.

Should she just get up and force her way into the mansion until she found the clan head? It'd cause a major stir, and she needed to look good, not to make too many ripples. And…

And forcing her way through things was what Aizen would do.

Well, that was not fair. Fairy Tail had forced their way through every problem they had ever faced, and usually ended up in the right.

But, that was a lawless way to live, and she lived in a society of laws now. That way was long past her, now. Barging in like a bull in a china shop might have worked once, but there were delicate things at play here.

"My apologies, Elder Kumoi, but I feel weary and ill. I will return another day, when your clan head is not indisposed. To pay my proper respect to this clan."

"The clan appreciates this show of respect," said the elder, with a smile.

The both of them knew, of course, what this really meant. She had spurned him, and if she wanted to pursue an alliance with him, the price tag had just increased—if that door hadn't been flat-out closed. As Erza walked away, she felt exhausted. She was off to a rocky start.

Once the next morning's duties had been finished—or at least such that she had staved off the mountain of paperwork growing any further—Erza headed out from her division, Momo and Yoruichi in tow.

"What are we doing, again?" asked Momo. "You left in such a hurry…"

"We're going to look up the Kasumiouji head, in person," said Erza determinedly.

"Why?" asked Momo. "Didn't you talk to that other guy? It sounded like he was ready to make a deal."

"Girl's got a point," said Yoruichi, shrugging. "A house like the Kasumiouji would probably be pretty cheaply bought."

"First off, let's not talk about buying people," Erza said irritably. "It's how it's done, I know, but it makes me feel dirty. Second of all, that guy… he gave me all the wrong vibes. I may not be savvy to politics, but I do have my instincts, and that guy is a snake. Mark my words, a slippery, devious little snake."

"You know, instincts are an important part of the game," Yoruichi acknowledged. "I just hope yours aren't off."

"How do we know where to find her anyway?" Momo yawned.

"An anonymous source—"

"Yours truly," Yoruichi cut in with a grin.

"An anonymous source told me she likes to spend her days at the Royal Library. Lady Kasumiouji takes her future role seriously and studies there, apparently."

"So, you're spying on people now, huh?" Momo said, smirking. "You're really getting into this, Erza."

"For the love of—I'm not spying."

"Yeah, you're having your minions do it for you, just like any self-respecting manipulative overlord would," Yoruichi chuckled.

"I am not—" Erza started indignantly, then took a deep breath. "Let's just go find her, alright?" She muttered.

Momo and Yoruichi sniggering behind her, they made their way toward the library, a central part of the noble district. Entry was easy enough, although the labyrinthine interior took some time to navigate. Eventually, bored of the mundane walk back and forth, Yoruichi took off with a series of shunpo, leaving Momo and Erza in the dust. A few minutes later there was a gust of air, and Yoruichi came back.

"That way," she said, indicating with her thumb.

The hall they were led to was something else. The library was just as ostentatious as any noble manor, ancient men and women in elaborate uniforms acting as custodians of the books and documents lined in shelf after shelf. There, in the distance—the hall was huge, lined with row upon row of bookshelves—they spotted a blonde girl in a pink kimono.

"She goes here every day. Same spot, reserved for her," Yoruichi explained. "We'll go and meet her there, actually. Quicker than chasing her down."

Sensible enough. Erza and Momo let Yoruichi lead the way. Just as the young clan head was approaching her seat, a comfortable, throne-like dais with soft pillows laid on top, Momo grabbed Erza by the sleeve.

"Something's wrong," she said firmly. "The chair—it's trapped! Erza, that's a deadly kidou!"

Just then, Rurichiyo moved to sit down.

All things considered, I'm really happy with how this chapter came out. Been wanting to do some character stuff with Kenpachi and Isane for a while, as the latter will become more important as the story goes on.

As you can see, the Kasumioiji will be playing a big role in the chapters to come. I know this arc isn't considered all that great by many Bleach fans, but I appreciated the fact it attempted to look into the Nobility of soul society, even if only a little. That said, things will be fairly different from how things were in the original arc. I don't have any plans for Amagai for one (nothing against his character, I just can't see a way to fit him in). But I do hope that you all enjoy what we bring to the table.

Till next time.