I know, an update so soon! I apologize if I got any of the honorifics wrong. As I was researching the comics, I found some errors in my former chapters. I need to go back through this fic and fix some of those. I'll do that. Someday. I'm pretty excited about this chappie. You'll know why when you read. I tip my hat to Mr. Kubo and his wonderful characters.
Pipe held between index finger and thumb, Tessai positioned himself comfortably before the backyard firepit. The flames calmed him, helped him think. As though Kisuke hadn't suffered enough through the ordeal with Orihime's rescue, the past few days pulled every last bit of energy out of the former captain, who was presently konked out on the living room sofa. Of all the shinigami in the netherrealms, it was Tessai's humble but strong opinion that Kisuke would never be be out-bested. As in the case of Aizen, some might come close, but there were few who could compete with his cunning. Mayuri Kurotsuchi may have gotten the best of him throughout the Winter War, but in the end, Kisuke found a way into Hueco Mundo with limited resources. Kisuke's mental prowess did not stop at his intelligence or creative inventions—it was there in his manner of being. He had a way of coming across as a fool or jester, but shrouded beneath the rim of that jade and ivory hat was a genius that confounded his enemies. Kisuke's kindness was genuine, but even after all these years, Tessai still wondered if the humility was sometimes contrived to disarm his foes.
Orihime shocked the household when she revealed to everyone that she'd been secretly meeting with Mayuri Kurotsuchi through her dreams. For a full month they had all suspected something was amiss. At dinner one night, Yoruichi put on firmer airs than usual and pressed Orihime out of concern. That opened the floodgates. Bursting into tears, Orihime recounted the details of her agreement with Seireitei, all arranged through some obscure contract she'd signed just after her escape. Kisuke seemed to be the only person in the household who had ever heard of such a document and had stared at Orihime in uncharacteristic stoicism as she recounted the ordeal. After confessing everything, she bowed low before them all, pleading for their forgiveness and even offering to move out of their home.
At the peak of Orihime's hysterics, Kisuke flapped his hands at her.
"Inoue-san! Please! There is no need for all that!" He kneeled down to meet her. "I understand you're upset, but...well, I really wish you'd told us about the contract. Kurotsuchi-san has a sneaky way of manipulating the system to his benefit. I would have helped you fulfill the terms. I have a lot of research projects we could have used as leverage, you see. Now it seems we've placed ourselves in a bit of a pickle."
Tessai knew for a while now that Orihime had yet to understand the group's acceptance of her. Unless she walked away on her own or betrayed them out of spite, they would remain with her. Mistakes were always forgiven so long as the offender offered contrition. This was the whole premise behind Urahara Shop; it was a place for outcasts, and Orihime had yet to understand that Kisuke hid his sentimental side through problem solving. After all, he had done the same for poor Ururu and Jinta. Orihime had worked herself to the bone her entire life, and of what little Tessai could gather about the girl's relationship with her aunt, he surmised that Orihime was still operating under a rewards system of sorts. She likely believed her place in the household depended on performance, deeds for deeds.
Tessai gazed at the smoke as it snaked through the air. What a mess.
As though reading his thoughts, a black cat strode to his side and sat on its hind legs.
Huffing, Yoruichi joined Tessai in watching the flames. As the fire flickered, it added an orange tint to her raven coat. "What a mess."
Tessai puffed another bit of smoke from the side of his lips, cautious not to let it flow to Yoruichi. "It troubles me that she's been communicating with Captain Kurotsuchi for a full month. Urahara-dono told me a little bit about that contract she signed. He said Captain Kurotsuchi probably found his old research stash at the Research and Development Institute. He dug them up and used them on poor Inoue-san."
Yoruichi unfurled her tail in a slow stroke. She often did that in her cat form when she was deep in thought. "And since she agreed to additional terms in her dreams, it makes things complicated."
"Yes."
Dreams were an interesting phenomenon in the spirit-realm. They served as a transitional platform since the soul comprises the mind, the will, and the emotions—the building blocks of dreams. Anything agreed to in this soul-state was just as valid as a physical signature. If Orihime went back on her word, she could suffer immense consequences in the afterlife.
"What bothers me the most, though," Yoruichi continued, "is that I don't really understand how they can enforce all this."
"I asked Urahara-dono about that."
Yoruichi angled her feline head towards Tessai. "What did he say?"
Tessai shifted in his seat and took several moments to recall the confusing details. "As I'm sure you can agree, Central 46 enforcement is harsh, as evidenced by our residence on this side of the Dangai. Central 46 has not always been around, though it is hardly ever revealed what system existed prior to it. Apparently, before Central 46, laws were entirely up to the serving Captain Commander and the ruling classes. They used contracts, you see."
"Hmm."
"The Captain Commander could also create new ones on a whim. My understanding is that they were sometimes even used to balance the souls between the human and spirit realms. After Central 46 was established, there was a move to destroy most of the contracts, though their authority apparently held as a precaution."
"So they could use them in situations like this."
"Yes. Some of the remaining contracts may possibly have been used in rare cases, though it's likely that hasn't happened in a long time."
Yoruichi hissed. "Mayuri's gone too far. And what the hell is Yamamoto thinking resurrecting Espada?"
"He probably thinks it'll secure Seireitei. I spoke to Inoue-san. Captain Kurotsuchi is asking her to resurrect them with minimal strength. I suppose Seireitei wants weakened versions of them for control."
"I can't tolerate hollows, but even despicable creatures like them should be put out of their misery. Kisuke. Baka. He should have burned those damn contracts as soon as he found them."
"You know how he is. Always holding on to every last piece of data for his research. You've seen how much he hoards down in that lab." Tessai chuckled and inhaled from his pipe.
"So all we can do now is sit back and wait to help Orihime. Whatever that means."
"Indeed. Urahara-dono has spent the last couple days working on some back-up plans in case something goes awry."
"Which it probably will."
Tessai just exhaled more smoke and set his eyes to the fire, hoping that Orihime would emerge unscathed.
.oOo.
Kisuke Urahara scanned his enormous computer screens for about the fiftieth time that week. He'd locked himself down in the basement, opening the door to no one except Ururu or Tessai when they delivered food and drink.
He'd poured every last ounce of his energy into preventing negative outcomes for Orihime's resurrection ordeal. While his preferred tactic would have been to make a bargain with Mayuri, negotiations were futile. He'd recruited the Captain into the Gotei 13 himself, knew his method of thinking, and could even relate in a number of ways. It was not the drive to protect Soul Society that motivated Mayuri—it was access to the body of knowledge gained through his research. There was no end to the breadth of understanding an Espada specimen could provide. Long ago, it might have been the sort of thing to entice Kisuke, but he'd learned his lesson about the moral limits of scientific research with the Hogyoku.
Yoruichi and Tessai supported his endeavors. The three of them preferred not to interfere with Soul Society business, often keeping to themselves unless it was an emergency. They'd fight hollows if need be but frequently left that to the shinigami assigned to Karakura Town. When they did interfere, they did so through loopholes, such as working with substitute shinigamis or finding back doors to the realms where they could dance around Soul Society laws without reprimand. With Orihime, it was tricky. There was no immediate emergency, so Kisuke lacked an impetus for bending the rules. And though he was making the most of his underground laboratory, it paled in comparison to the Shinigami Research and Development Institute (SRDI), his former pride and joy.
The contracts were also an unexpected twist. He knew the SRDI was likely capable of reviving a dead arrancar on its own, but Orihime's powers would greatly quicken the process. There was also the matter of Orihime's treason and subsequent punishment. Kisuke had to admit the whole thing was cleverly thought out, despite its barbarity. He didn't recruit Mayuri as a former Third Seat for nothing. Mayuri was an opportunist who pushed the boundaries whenever it made sense. Still, it was not lost on Kisuke that he had hired Mayuri, practically handed him the contracts, and awakened Orihime's Shun Shun Rikka through his invention of the Hogyoku. Had the stone never been invented, Orihime could have been living a normal life instead of selling her soul—quite literally—to a death god. Kisuke reflected on his indirect role in the events of Orihime's life often. If he was honest with himself, it was part of the reason he'd taken her in and provided a home for her.
He shifted his gaze away from the blue screen and rubbed his eyes. Something about the contracts niggled at him, like there was a faint detail he had failed to examine. He created a mental list and checked off all the facts one by one: the details of the contract, the method of resurrection, the individuals to be revived. There was a missing detail somewhere he was compelled to find, as though it was part of a forgotten story.
He angled his head towards the screens and rolled his seat a little closer to reach the keys.
He began typing. And researching. And analyzing.
Nothing could prepare him for what he found.
.oOo.
A sardonic grin stretched across Mayuri Kurotsuchi's painted face. One of his specimens finally within reach. It had taken six months to arrive at this point, but endless was his patience in the matters of foundational research. Annoyingly, the Inoue girl had been protected by the Urahara group in more ways than one. Kisuke had insisted that preparations be made so that Orihime could handle the pressures of resurrecting modified versions of such powerful spirit beings. Eventually, Mayuri relented. He agreed that attaining premium specimens was a necessary goal and could wait a few months for quality assurance. Thus, the Inoue girl was subjected to a strict diet and ritual spiritual techniques.
She was escorted to the SRDI on a weekly basis to practice minor resurrections in conjunction with the lab's revival equipment. Mayuri would burn to ashes a living object, such as a potted plant or an insect, and Orihime would attempt to revive the creature from what little was left, sometimes out of nothing. They quickly learned that if she could visualize the object in her mind, the resurrection was successful. If she had no former contact with the object, she failed. After the insects and plants, they moved to small animals, then larger animals, and finally lower-level staff from the Twelfth Division.
It was no wonder the Captain Commander ordered Mayuri to establish boundaries with the girl. Upon her death, her usefulness to Seireitei was sure to be irreplaceable.
"You would make an excellent addition to my Twelfth Division," Mayuri would say, eyes glued to his computer screens.
After running diagnostics on several formerly deceased subordinates, they moved on to the trickier stage: Revival at a fraction of original strength. To achieve this, Mayuri told the girl to use her resurrection technique at half strength—using only one spirit of the Shun Shun Rikka at a time.
"I don't know if it works that way," she replied.
"I didn't ask you if you could. It's an order."
She called on one of the spirits of the Shun Shun Rikka and began speaking to it in a hushed tone. When she finished, the little spirit flew to her shoulder, and she addressed him once more.
"Ayame is telling me that it might be possible, but it will take longer than usual."
"How long?"
"We don't know. I've never been asked to heal something at reduced strength on purpose. My powers were never meant to change the nature of something by reducing its strength."
He would wait.
"Nemu, bring the hell butterfly. Let us do a test. If she passes, we will begin the process with Tia Harribel." He turned back to the girl. "Ayame is correct. This would indeed require changing the nature of the creature, but this is exactly what you will be doing with the Espada you will resurrect."
"What do you mean?"
"An arrancar is a hollow with its mask removed. This indicates that it has evolved to a certain level. It is a contradiction to resurrect an Espada-level arrancar at reduced strength. In theory, this should mean that it would revert back to its Gillian, Adjuchas, or Vasto Lorde stage, with a mask. Those are useless. I need an Espada-level arrancar—a Vasto Lorde who has removed its mask."
The girl stared dumbly at him.
"If you can achieve such a restructuring with the hell butterfly, you will have changed part of its nature while simultaneously protecting its core makeup."
Nemu appeared with the butterfly. Mayuri crushed it in his hand, wiped the guts off, doused it with flammable liquid, and set it afire until only ash remained.
"I want you to resurrect this creature as a butterfly without the power to deliver messages."
Fear and skepticism clouded the girl's eyes. If she could not do this, their efforts would be in vain.
She called upon Ayame once more.
They waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The girl succeeded at five times the normal length.
The butterfly was now white, purged of all powers bestowed by Soul Society, city of death.
.oOo.
The first time Orihime returned from the SRDI, she had a bit of color on her cheeks. Tessai observed that she was excited to breathe life into dead things and even more so, excited to use her gift. The opportunity to use shinigami powers was rare these days, so he understood what it was to miss using his abilities. This was why he took so much pride in the shop's upkeep—if he could not purge souls, he could purge the shop of untidiness and bad food.
It didn't take long before dejection drained the color from Orihime's face. It tended to come and go, but six months was a long time to acquaint oneself with death and life in such an unnatural rhythm. Inoue would return to the shop exhausted, and Urahara and his team could only do so much to mitigate the situation as they were not allowed inside the SRDI. Kisuke could have found a way in, but there was always a limit to how far he would press the boundaries of shinigami laws. He pretended not to care, but he buried himself in the lab that first day, muttering something about contracts and refusing to open the door but to eat, drink, and use the toilet.
It took several weeks to revive Tia Harribel and her Fraccion. Orihime told them that the Twelfth Division threw them all into the Nest of Maggots. She said no more.
Coyote Starrk was an interesting case. After some initial trouble, Orihime mentioned something about a stabilizing companion. It took about a week to locate the companion, but they'd found her. Orihime said little else about the details. From the way Orihime was behaving, it seemed Starrk's companion may have been a friend of some sort, and the two of them were likely thrown into the Nest of Maggots along with their comrades. Few ever escaped the underground dungeon. It was a prison reserved for those deemed dangerous to Soul Society but had yet to commit a crime. Since they were Espada, it made things complicated, but they would be given a blank slate and a purpose for the Twelfth. Kisuke had gone to plea with the Captain Commander several times just before Starrk's revival. He was turned away.
When summer came, it did not affect Orihime. Passing through the hallways like a ghost in winter, she rarely talked, barely ate. Tessai had forgotten what it was like to dwell in a house absent her laughter. The night before the final resurrection, Tessai passed her room in one of his routine inspections. The door was open a crack, and upon hearing her muffled cries, he could not help but to stop and observe. She sat at the end of her bed, hunched over. The spirits of the Shun Shun Rikka seemed to be consoling her—one on her shoulder, some flying about, one on her knee—a rare sight, as Orihime did not like to call upon them without need.
She was sobbing into a garment clutched in her hands. An ivory dress traced in black.
/.\/.\/.\
It heard but did not see
Eyelids heavy as bricks
The cold around It, unfamiliar
The ground, a little harder than It remembered
A curious sound
A foreign sensation
Hands nor feet, It felt neither
Void
Something It understood
What was It?
A thinking thing
With phantom limbs
Confusion gnawed at it like a swarm of bees
A tingle
First below
Then to the sides
Then above
Muted voices, they began to clear
It heard a word It knew
A name?
An unhurried prickle bit its way through
A vicious spasm, needling along Its spine
Had It been able to arch its back, It would have writhed
A brief interruption, far too brief
Millions of speckles, fastened with pain
Fluttered their way to It
Stung their way to It
Clawed their way through It
It was writhing now
The aching spasms lingered
Lingered too long
If It understood time, It might have marked the hours
The hours where void became form
The needling, it stopped
It heard fluttering, as though something flew away
Then a voice
A female voice
It knew this voice
For the first time, It understood words
"He'll be complete by tomorrow."
He.
He remembered his name.
Ulquiorra.
