HALCYON DAYS
Volume Three: Champagne Coliseum

Chapter Four

Nanao was panting with exhaustion by the time she and Shunsui reached the Shin'ōchikadaikangoku, which rested right beneath the First Division Barracks.

真央地下大監獄 Shin'ōchikadaikangoku (Central Great Underground Prison)

"Couldn't the Captain-Commander have called on one of the closer divisions?" she asked while gasping for breath.

"The Old Man thought I'd be best suited to this task," Shunsui replied, completely at ease after their sprint.

"I still don't think we needed to get here so quickly," Nanao grumbled. She had struggled mightily to keep up with her captain's speed during their breakneck journey from the Fifth to the First District.

"An innocent officer is rotting away in a cell, Nanao-chan," Shunsui rejoined. "We couldn't have arrived soon enough."

He reached up and knocked on the absolutely massive, 50-foot tall gates of the Shin'ōchikadaikangoku. After a minute, the doors parted open with a cavernous yawn.

Awaiting inside was the prison's warden, Ikkamano Kunko, standing around expectantly in the darkness.

What an absolutely hideous man! Nanao thought, bristling at the sight of him.

Kunko was a massive brute, standing at nine feet in height and built like an ox. He had a bulbous goiter swelling out from beneath his black beard that was known to swell and shrink like a pufferfish while he spoke.

His gnarled nose looked as though it had been broken in every direction while his lips were swollen and curled into a permanently contemptuous sneer. His Shihakushō was distinguished by the gauntlets that housed the seemingly countless keys designated used to lock up the prison's different floors.

"Ah, Captain Kyōraku, I wasn't expecting you!" Kunko lied, his goiter bulging and contracting at every intonation. "It's been too long since you last paid me a visit, geh, geh, geh. What brings you to my pit today?"

"Long time no seen, Ikkamano," Shunsui replied, tilting back his straw hat as a greeting. "Old Man Yama sent me to fetch the Fifth Division's third seat. Prisoner No. 830, I believe?"

"Oh yes, the invalid," Kunko chortled, raising his fist to show off fresh blood caking the knuckles. "I was just interrogating him one final time for thoroughness' sake, geh, geh, geh."

"You beat the prisoner even after he was exonerated?" Nanao protested, her face reddening with indignation. "That's, that's – !"

"That's none of our business," Shunsui cooed diplomatically. "You run your prison however you want, Ikkamano. Now, shall we proceed?"

Kunko led them inside the Shin'ōchikadaikangoku, its entrance tunnel deepening into claustrophobic burrow until they came upon the platform that would take them down the prison's central shaft.

Nanao hung close to Shunsui while the gears clanked and the impossibly thick chains supporting the platform sputtered, lowering them into the abyss.

"This is your first time visiting the Shin'ōchikadaikangoku, right Nanao-chan?" Shunsui asked.

"Yessir."

"It's not a particularly fun place to stay," he warned with cheeky understatement. "Each descending level is a harsher prison than the last, all of them doling out the most terrifying punishments Soul Society can muster."

"I know the stories," Nanao whispered. "I grew up hearing rumors of a floor where you have an endless tickle in your nose but can't bring yourself to sneeze," Nanao recalled. "Is that real?"

"Pray you never find out," Shunsui answered coyly.

At last, the platform ground to a halt and swayed subtly in the darkened shaft. They had reached the first prison cell, Mōseikōribako.

猛省氷箱 Mōseikōribako (Penitence Icebox)

The abrupt stop made Nanao swoon from a touch of vertigo. She clutched at Shunsui's haori for support, eliciting a soft smile from the captain. Together, they followed Kunko onto the craggy ledge jutting out from the cell's entrance.

Kunko fished out the corresponding key and knelt down to slot it into a crag in the ground, leveraging his considerable bulk to turn it clockwise. A tremor groaned across the ground and ran up the stone wall, prompting it to grind open and reveal an orchid-white chamber within.

There was a lone soul occupying the space: Prisoner No. 830. The young man was sitting against the wall, his face bloody and bruised. Kunko had beaten him to a pulp.

"We can take it from here, Ikkamano," Shunsui told the warden.

Kunko gave a disappointed grunt and trudged out to go wait by the platform. He always hated being dismissed.

The prisoner was a fair-skinned young man with a mole peppering his right cheekbone. Peeking from beneath his mop of shaggy hair were a set of soulful eyes and chattering teeth. His whole body was shivering as if he were being gripped by hypothermia.

Nanao eyed the quaking officer with concern before she began involuntarily trembling, too.

Why are my bones rattling?

"This is the power of Mōseikōribako: the prison instills a chill in you without even lowering the temperature," Shunsui explained, his own teeth clacking together. "Bundle up as much as you like, you'll still feel like you've been left out in a tundra while wearing nothing but sandals. It gets pretty intolerable after a couple hours. Makes prisoners more amenable to interrogation."

He looked at the lad and noticed a mouse hiding underneath his hand. The prisoner's index finger intermittently dipped down like an oar into water to affectionally stroke the rodent's nape. The critter was shaking violently, too.

The mouse could easily escape the chamber through a crack if it so desired, Shunsui observed. Instead, it was deliberately choosing to linger with the young man despite its own discomfort.

He really does have a way with the critters.

Shunsui looked back and saw the horror on Nanao's face: she thought this place was barbaric. He didn't disagree.

"This officer is deaf," he said, gesturing to the prisoner. "You learned how to sign during your Shin'ō Academy days, right Nanao-chan?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then please let him know he has been found innocent of playing any role in Aizen's conspiracy."

The prisoner raised his quivering hands and gesticulated to offer a hasty interjection.

"He understands you, Captain," Nanao said, interpreting the sign language. "He can read lips. He says that yours have very exaggerated articulation, which makes them easy to follow."

"Are you complimenting my lips, young man?" Shunsui chuckled. "Why thank you, Rindō Atau of Fifth Division. Please accept my apologies for how you've been treated. Your former captain is now Soul Society's greatest enemy, and we had to make sure you weren't in league with him."

Atau Rindō carefully watched Shunsui speak, then signed something to Nanao.

"Nobody's answered any of my questions since I arrived here," she relayed. "Is it true, what Lieutenant Kotetsu said through the Tenteikūra? Is Lieutenant Hinamori really dead?"

"Yes," Shunsui nodded. "Aizen murdered her."

Rindō was perfectly still, then signed 'That deeply saddens me. I was not close with Captain Aizen, but Hinamori admired him a great deal. I think she may have been in love with him, even.'

Nanao repeated his words, her voice cracking at the invocation of Momo's name.

"I'm not here to ask you about Aizen or Hinamori," Shunsui clarified, kneeling down to meet Rindō eye-to-eye. "I'm here because the Gotei 13 needs you. Your division needs –"

The mouse interrupted Shunsui's speech with a chirp and scampered up Rindō before finally resting on his shoulder.

'I'm afraid I won't be of any help,' Rindō gesticulated. 'Barely anyone in Fifth Company even knows who I am.'

Shunsui seemed to ignore him, focusing instead of the mouse.

"Looks like you've made a friend down here, eh?" the captain said playfully. "I heard you're something of an animal tamer."

Rindō contemplated the rhetorical question while petting the critter with two fingers. He signed a response with his free hand.

'People assume that animals flock to me because of fondness, but they're wrong,' he signed. 'Animals in Soul Society aren't self-determined souls but Reishi constructs. They are drawn to my Reiatsu the same way blades of grass bend towards the sun for warmth. While I appreciate this mouse keeping me company, it's only here because it's attracted to my spiritual pressure. I wish it were my friend, but it's not. Nobody is.'

Shunsui scrutinized Rindō carefully while Nanao translated.

"If you truly believed that, you wouldn't be comforting that creature right now," he countered, gesturing to the way Rindō gently stroked the mouse's fur. "Your Reiatsu is ultimately just another expression of your soul. When that mouse basks in your presence, it is trying to get closer to your Heart. They are one and the same. That sounds like friendship to me."

Rindō's face blossomed into a wide-eyed smile, his first in quite some time. He softly grasped the mouse and gave it an affectionate squeeze, making it squeak.

'You were saying my division needs me, Captain Kyōraku?'


Sunlight shimmered off the smooth ore of the Seireiheki's east flank, where Shūhei Hisagi and Izuru Kira were training together just 2 ri away from the Blue Steam Gate.

The Academy Ground's wall was a neutral zone where all officers could undergo strength training through climbing.

"I don't know what's worse, the weight of this friggin' shell or the glare," Hisagi gritted. He squinted when the sunshine bounced off the Seireiheki's surface and straight into his eyes.

They were two-thirds of the way up the Seireiheki's slope, hoisting themselves by a climbing rope while their torsos were encased in Kameyoroi.

亀鎧 Kameyoroi (Tortoise Armor)

The viridescent shells were hollowed out but weighed five tons apiece, adding quite an arduous handicap to their journey up the the wall's summit.

Kira yanked himself up a step and paused, feeling his biceps spasm. The strain was becoming agonizing.

"If I just let go and fell, d'you think the turtle shell would soften my landing?" he asked, craning his head back to consider the precipitous plunge below.

"Don't tell me you're tapping out already?" Hisagi laughed. "Last one to the top owes the winner a bottle of sake, remember?"

"After the last party, I think I'm good on sake?" Kira chuckled.

"Move outta the way, boys!" Rangiku Matsumoto shouted from below, inching her way up after them.

Hisagi and Kira looked down in amazement at how swiftly she was gaining on them. Her voluptuous figure was obscured by the Kameyoroi, making her appear like a giant egg with tiny limbs.

"Rangiku?" Kira huffed. "When did you join in?"

"About a half hour ago."

"But we've been at this all afternoon!"

"You boys are just out of practice," Rangiku laughed, shooting Hisagi a sly smile. "After all, a girl like me is already carrying extra padding wherever she goes, right?"

Hisagi turned a deep pink and averted her eyes, opting instead to gaze straight into the wall's shimmer. The scalding brilliance of the sun's reflection was still easier for him to behold than the look Rangiku gave him whenever she cracked a naughty joke.

Kira planted his feet firmly against the Seireiheki to stand in place.

"I think we need to take a breather, Rangiku. You go on ahead."

"Oh, with pleasure!" Rangiku beamed, climbing up between them and continuing onwards. "Oh, and I overheard that bet. You two are going to owe me a bottle of sake apiece!"

Kira waited until she had ascended out of earshot before casting Hisagi a withering look.

"If you're matched up against her in the tournament, are you seriously gonna spazz out like that in the ring?"

"If I'm forced to fight her, I'll forfeit," Hisagi said while quivering like a schoolboy.

"Maybe you should just make a move?"

"Absolutely not," Hisagi shook his head. "I could be the last man left in the world and I still wouldn't be worthy of her."

"Eh?" Kira grumbled, feeling a little embarrassed for him. "Come on, man. It's just Rangiku."

After another hour of arduous struggle, they finally reached the top of the Seireiheki. After begrudgingly promising Rangiku a bottle of sake apiece, they retired to the grand mess hall for supper.

Kira was loading up his tray when his peripheral vision noticed a cadet looking at him askance. He gave Hisagi a nudge.

"They're still looking at us funny."

Hisagi scanned the sea of grunts with confusion.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "I don't see any stares."

"It's subtle glances and anxious body language," Kira sighed. "They don't trust us anymore."

Hisagi frowned. He hadn't yet reckoned with how Kaname Tōsen's defection might have impacted his own reputation within the Gotei 13.

While he and Kira were ultimately cleared of any association with Aizen's conspiracy by Genryūsai himself, the optics nevertheless made them suspect amongst all the lower-ranking Shinigami.

They sat down and wordlessly picked at their food. After a while, Hisagi finally broke the silence.

"Is it just me, or does it feel like there's more on the line for us in this tournament compared to everybody else?" he mused. "We've become the de facto leaders of our divisions. If we lose –"

"Then we'll be letting down all of our subordinates instead of just one superior?" Kira nodded. "I've thought the same. Our captains really left us in a lurch, didn't they?"

"It could be worse; they could have left us like Hinamori," Hisagi grimaced.

Kira's expression dropped, chastened by the thought of Momo lying dead in a lonely heap. He sunk into another one of his melancholies and pushed his tray aside, having lost his appetite.