HALCYON DAYS
Volume Three: Champagne Coliseum
Chapter Three
"Do you think the others will mind, Captain?" Nanao Ise asked while standing by the window, watching all the cadets training their hearts out on the Eight Division courtyard below.
"Mind what, Nanao-chan?" Shunsui replied, not even looking up from the latest edition of the Seireitei Communication. He was resting on the floor, still recovering from his strenuous Reikinbaku-ito training.
"Are you okay with me fighting in the tournament?" Nanao specified. "I wouldn't even be allowed to participate if it wasn't for my aunt. I'm worried she might be up to something."
"Of course she's up to something," Shunsui chuckled, thumbing through his magazine. "I'm sure you will do us proud. But if you truly believe in your heart of hearts that you aren't fit to compete, then we can always substitute you with our Third Seat."
"But I want to compete," Nanao confessed with a touch of bashfulness. "It just bugs me that I don't know whether I'd be fighting on behalf of Eighth Division or as a representative of Ise Clan."
Shunsui looked up at her, reflecting on how far she'd come after all these years.
You're too extraordinary to fret over what you owe your family, Nanao-chan, he thought. They don't deserve you. Neither do I.
Suddenly, a masked messenger flash-stepped onto the windowsill, catching Nanao completely by surprise.
"GAH!" she shrieked.
The Onmitsukidō Inner Court Troop courier, realizing his folly, waved his hands apologetically.
"Apologies for startling you, Lieutenant Ise!" the emissary said contritely. "I come with a message for Captain Kyōraku."
He handed a sealed scroll to Nanao and promptly fled with a flash step.
"You've got mail, sir," Nanao reiterated, giving a light cough of embarrassment.
Shunsui set aside his periodical and accepted the message. He peeled off the wax seal and read the parchment, recognizing the handwriting. It was written by Genryūsai himself.
"Well, I suppose my relaxation time is finished," he sighed, pocketing the parchment and giving his legs a stretch. "Nanao-chan, would you be so kind as to accompany me to the Shin'ōchikadaikangoku?"
The smell of incense, steamed rice and sweat rose like a smokestack from the Rukongai's First District market. Commerce was thriving in anticipation of the upcoming Jūsankentaikai, with scalpers selling tickets to the event like hotcakes.
Ganju Shiba grumbled his way through the throng until, after an interminable wait in line, he finally made his way before one of the scalpers.
"Two tickets to the Jūsankentaikai, please!" he beamed, holding up two fingers.
The dealer was a cherubic boy sitting atop an upturned barrel, his pot belly hanging over the lid.
"That'll be 100 Kan a pop," the merchant said, his gravelly voice belying his childish appearance.
"Eh?" Ganju bleated, stunned by the figure. "I don't have that much."
"Next in line, please!"
"You don't understand!" Ganju cried, clasping his hands together pleadingly. "My sister controls my allowance and she only gives me a quarter of that amount at a time!"
"That must be very humiliating for you," the scalper replied coldly. "Not my problem."
"You seriously don't understand!" Ganju pressed. "My sister is Shiba Kūkaku! If we don't get good seats to the tournament, she'll have my hide!"
"Wait, your sister is Shiba Kūkaku?" the scalper perked up. "Maybe we can work something out, then. I've been getting grief from some Second District thugs. If Kūkaku could be kind enough to take care of them for me..."
"Well, you know, I'm pretty tough, too," Ganju grinned, flexing his right bicep. "I could sort them out myself –"
"Your sister or no deal."
"Fine!" Ganju harrumphed. "She'll handle them, I promise. Consider yourself untouchable!"
"You guys enjoy the show... on the house," the scalper grinned, leaning down to tuck two tickets into Ganju's vest. "Let her know that I'll be calling on her services soon."
"Thank you!" Ganju bowed ceremonially before scramming.
He dashed out from the crowd and bounded two blocks away before checking the tickets: they were unfortunately total nose-bleeds.
"Aw, dammit," he lamented. "Friggin' ripoff."
Kūkaku Shiba sat on the circular platform of her Flower Crane Cannon, munching on an onion. She took a big chomp and eyed her visitor up and down.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, Rurisa?" she asked with her mouth full.
Before her stood Nisaki Rurisa, the Shikōtai guard the Ise Clan.
至高親衛兵SHIKŌTAI (Supreme Bodyguard)
An imposing woman, Rurisa stood at 6 feet and 6 inches tall with a lithe frame of sinewy muscle. Like other Shikōtai guardsmen, she was clad in ostentatious samurai armor: a barn-red cuirass complemented by matching gauntlets and greaves while a maroon sash hung around her waist. Her face was hidden behind a burgundy mask etched with exquisitely beautiful features, her charcoal eyes glowering from behind the slits.
Her Kabuto helm was ornately crafted, with the crest jutting up into the forked antlers of a sika deer. Kūkaku noted that the guardswoman was armed with a Zanpakutō: the katana had a barn-red handle with an amber gem encrusted on the pommel.
"I was sent by Lady Kōbucha," Rurisa answered in a husky drawl. "It was not lost on her or the others that your cannon helped the Ryoka break into the Seireitei."
Kūkaku took another bite from the musty onion and stared Rurisa down.
"Cannon?" she said, feigning ignorance. "What cannon? I ain't got no cannon."
Rurisa nodded to the towering chimney-looking spire looming right behind Kūkaku that was in fact a giant cannon.
"You may be a bumpkin, but don't play dumb," the Shikōtai advised. "You illegally helped Ryoka breach the Seireitei's defenses. That can't go unanswered."
Kūkaku took her sweet time chewing onion cud before swallowing with an exaggerated gulp. In rapid succession, she tossed her half-eaten onion into the air and fired a thumb-sized firework after it. The missile charged up to the spinning bulb and blew it into smithereens with a soft pop.
Rurisa watched with bemusement as the onion's ashes scattered with the breeze.
"There," Kūkaku proclaimed. "I just forsook my supper. That's about as much penance as I'm willing to pay. Last I checked, those Ryoka saved the day."
"That is the only reason why the Shisonka have decided to leave you unharmed," Rurisa replied matter-of-factly. "However, in times of war, measures must be taken to ensure the Seireitei's safety. Seeing as you were willing to help outsiders breach our walls before, your cannon can't be left intact. It's too great a liability."
Kūkaku dusted herself off with her one hand and rose up, standing defiantly between Rurisa and the cannon.
"If you think I'm gonna let you vandalize my Kakaku Taihō, then the weight of those horns have really messed with your head," she warned, motioning to the antlers affixed to the samurai's helm. "You'll have to get through me first."
Rurisa was quiet, then let out a soft chuckle.
"Very well."
She turned away as if to leave, then pivoted back with whiplash force, drawing her Zanpakutō forth faster than Kūkaku could comprehend.
"Carry, Hōteikiatsu!"
包囲低気圧 Hōteikiatsu (Siege Cyclone)
With a sundering boom of spiritual power, the katana reformed into a massive ring blade, a black serrated circle four meters in diameter and encrusted with ruby runes. The ring launched from Rurisa like a tossed discus, firing straight at Kūkaku in a vicious spin.
Kūkaku froze up, shocked by the Shikai's velocity and the sheer power it emitted as it ripped across the air with roaring force. It was coming in too fast.
It's overwhelming, she thought, feeling the blade's revolutions sucking her towards it with gravitational heft. I can't even evade it!
When blade came within a centimeter of slicing Kūkaku through, it instead swerved and spun like a satellite around her orbit. She looked on, flummoxed as the sawtoothed ring ripped around her in intricate revolutions, threatening to slice her open if she dared budge even an inch.
You're mocking me, aren't you?! she thought. Condescending bootlicker.
The ring blade finally finished its arcs around Kūkaku and sailed onward in the horizontal slant of a whirring buzzsaw. It passed through the Flower Crane Cannon and sliced so cleanly that the smokestack-shaped spire stood intact for a pronounced moment before the top half slid off and landed onto the adjacent huts with a deafening crash.
Hōteikiatsu buzzed across the sky before swerving back and returning to Rurisa. The ring blade came to a complete stop within an inch of her outstretched palm and floated obediently in the air. The Shikōtai guardswoman sealed her Shikai back into a katana, grinning beneath her mask.
"Know your place, Shiba Kūkaku," Rurisa advised before sheathing her Zanpakutō back into its scabbard. "You may lord over these Rukon like a big shot, but you're just more trash atop the heap."
Ganju came running up from behind, head in his hands while he surveyed the property damage.
"The Kakaku Taihō!" he cried, aghast at the sight of the Flower Crane Cannon being snipped at the trunk. He turned his attention to Rurisa and assumed a fighting stance. "You're gonna regret that, goat woman."
"Ganju!" Kūkaku shouted, her eyes filled with apprehension. "Don't do anything stupid: just let her leave."
"Huh?" Ganju froze up, alarmed by the fear in his big sister's voice. Even Oneesan's scared of this freak?
Rurisa strode past Ganju with a chuckle, making sure to tag him with a shoulder shove. The brusque tap was powerful enough to tear his rotator cuff, sending him toppling over with a yelp.
"To think Lady Kōbucha was generous enough to give you hooligans a tryout period," Rurisa remarked. "You're all a bunch of unruly bottom feeders."
Koganehiko and Shiroganehiko waited for the samurai to be gone from the premises before they emerged to help Ganju back to his feet. The trio approached Kūkaku gingerly, alarmed by how shellshocked she looked.
"Oneesan, are you OK?" Ganju asked, nursing his aching arm. "Did she hurt you?"
So the rumors are true... the Shikōtai guardsmen are on par with the Gotei captains, Kūkaku reflected, her heartbeat trying to calm its rhythm. I didn't want to believe it, but that Reiatsu was undeniable.
"Oneesan?!"
"I'm fine," Kūkaku answered shakily. "I was just caught off guard is all."
Ganju surveyed the wreckage of the Flower Crane Cannon behind them. What a monster, he thought before reflecting on Rurisa's parting words.
"What did that woman mean when she said her master gave us a tryout period?" he asked.
Kūkaku grimaced, unsure of whether she wanted to answer.
"I guess you're enough of a man now to be clued in," she sighed. "You know how our family used to live in the Seireitei along with the other aristocrats? For thousands of years, we were a vassal of Ise Clan and served at their Tenrai-chō's behest."
"Yeah, I remember you telling me that. We were living the good life once upon a time..."
"Except our ancestors weren't docile like all the other nobles," Kūkaku continued with a hint of pride. "The Shibas kept getting in hot water again and again for disobeying commands they thought were bunk. Eventually, Ise Clan exiled us all to the Rukongai as punishment for being too rowdy. However, there was a time not too long ago when we were almost welcomed back."
"What?" Ganju gawped. "What're you talking about?"
"The sitting Ise Tenrai-chō is a very opportunistic woman," Kūkaku explained. "When she learned our family had a fresh crop of promising warriors, she made a secret deal with us: if members of the Shiba Clan joined the Gotei 13 and rose high in the ranks, she'd reinstate us as a vassal and we'd be welcomed back into the Seireitei. It actually came close to happening."
"It did?" Ganju frowned, feeling a bit ripped off. "What blew our chances?"
"What do you think?" Kūkaku smirked. "We got rowdy. Kaien died trying to avenge his wife, and Cousin went his own way. So Kōbucha cancelled the deal and vowed we'd never step foot in the Seireitei ever again."
Ganju mulled over the revelation before giving a shrug.
"I'd say that's for the best. Who wants to serve those royal snobs, anyway? This is our home."
Kūkaku looked back at the mess Rurisa had made of their property.
"Whatever's left of it, at least," she sighed. "Did you at least get the tournament tickets?"
"Uh, yeah," Ganju blushed. "This might not be the best time to bring it up, but a guy named Kuchitsuchi might come calling in a favor..."
