Chapter Five: Death God, Pet Dog, Maybe Both
It took a lot to make Retsu doubt herself. As a healer, regret wasn't something she wanted to be acquainted with; she simply didn't have any room for mistakes given her field. In other aspects of life however she could afford to slip up from time to time, giving quarter to mistakes where she knew she would suffer the mildest scratch to her conscience or reputation. Heavy blows, though, she never knew she ever had the strength to deal with, only because she had never let a situation get so out of hand that the repercussions would magnify to unbearable extents. Unohana had always been a careful creature, always testing the ice lest it crack under her feet and sink her to the cold depths.
But today she found herself stranded on a quickly crumbling icy raft, torrential waters tossing her about in the midst of a storm with no spit of land or another soul in sight.
Something had gone terribly awry, a single variable that threatened to throw all her meticulously crafted plans right back into face. A threat that she'd been well aware of but either remained oblivious to or purposefully ignored the incredible danger it posed. And now that the warning signs had become so obnoxious that she'd have to be a complete moron to not notice, Unohana realised that this was the first time in her life that she had felt so uncertain of herself.
When he'd decided to read her thinly-veiled threat as a challenge, Retsu instantly recognized the unpleasant feeling lingering in the back of her mind as regret. Of course there was nothing the freak could come up with that she couldn't dust off her shoulder – she'd done that countless times before with his innumerable poisonous concoctions and just as poisonous personality. But something about the whole situation, how difficult it was proving to be professional where profession was meant to be forgotten and the vicious encounters resulting from it, had Retsu thinking that perhaps, just maybe, she hadn't thought things through as well as she'd hoped. And against this unpredictable lunatic, poor planning was a death sentence.
Did the promise of power so overwhelm all rational reason that she never realised exactly what she had gotten herself into until it was too late? She had wanted to blame Yamamoto, to refuse responsibility for her own actions by claiming that she had been duped into the situation she was in right now but she was too familiar with reality to unburden herself so easily. And turning back now was to accept defeat when the battle was yet still being fought with wits rather than teeth and claws. Had she been anyone else, she would have succumbed to panic at the mere suggestion of her own plans miserably slipping through her fingers. But she wasn't anyone else. The experiences of nearly a thousand years lived on bloody battlefields and equally bloody hospital wards had given her a resolve that wouldn't snap even if the King willed it.
Retsu Unohana didn't know the meaning of defeat.
"Well I'll be…"
Amidst the din of chattering shoppers, a lone, familiar voice had managed to stir her from her thoughts and she turned in the direction from which it had originated from. She had instantly recognized the speaker even while she had yet to completely emerge from her pondering, and the image that had formed in her mind, of a set of gleaming fangs cast in a "catty" grin, was perfectly reflected in the woman now standing before her.
Yoruichi Shihoin's face seemed to be set that way at birth, and it came off as confrontational to those who didn't know her all that well. The only time she wasn't giving a smug look was when she was pissed off or bored, which rarely ever happened for a woman who found excitement in one form or the other in practically everything. Seeing one of her former colleagues in the world of the living, Retsu guessed, was probably her highlight of the day. And the distraction having pulled her out of her own dark thoughts, it was the Fourth Captain's highlight as well, and she beamed as Shihoin slinked toward her.
"I knew it, the tabloid headlines were your doing!" she exclaimed and then laughed when the older woman gave her a confused look. "Those kikanshinki Soi Fon has her mitts on got some kick to them. First time I heard someone get alien probing memories."
Unohana's face brightened with realization: she was talking about the memory wipe the Onmitsukido carried out at their arrival in the world of the living. Though the incident making it to print wasn't exactly a great sign if she wanted the vacation to continue but since it was the tabloids disseminating the information, it would probably never even make it to gossip circles, much less Yamamoto's desk. It was so harmless and silly, and Yoruichi found such humour in it that Unohana couldn't help but laugh along.
"So how's the brat, anyway?" the ex-captain prodded, arms folding underneath her ample chest. Retsu did not ignore the hint of concern in the otherwise grinning woman's voice.
"She would have told you better, you just missed her," Retsu answered. "And Captain Kuchiki as well. They were with us a little while ago but they had to leave due to… reasons…"
"Eh, I was hearing talk about a stampede at one of the cosmetics stores. Now that I know it was you guys, I ain't so surprised anymore. Oh, and by the way…" a voracious tint now gleamed in Shihoin's bright, golden eyes. "By us, did you mean him?"
The Fourth Captain's shoulders drooped as the other woman's gaze shifted toward the expanse behind her, to the very entity that had been the object of her anxiety mere moments ago. She had chosen to ignore him, refusing to deign even a look or a word ever since they'd left the lifestyle store with charms in tow. Kurotsuchi had stopped and made for a bench to tie his shoelaces at some point and Unohana had wordlessly kept walking on ahead, too tired, too miserable and too preoccupied with self-doubt to care about whether or not he was following behind or what he did with all her bags. He hadn't even called out for her either, and the distance as well as the momentary solitude allowed her the breathing room she needed to mull over her thoughts before deciding against pitying herself and instead stand her ground.
That is, if she had any energy to do so. Retsu suddenly realised she was too drained to face any confrontation right now, and found herself desperately wishing for some piping hot herbal tea to both soothe her mind and bring life to her aching back and legs. Following the other woman's line of sight, she saw what to any other would have seemed like a sentient mountain of shopping bags and boxes with a pair of legs lumber toward them. Mayuri was glowering over the lip of a tower of shoeboxes that nearly came up to his collar, notably displeased having recognized Unohana's latest company gleaming back at him.
"Hey there, fuckface," Shihoin warmly greeted him.
"Anus breath," he returned.
Retsu's nose scrunched up in disgust, her displeasure at their exchange overpowering her curiosity at how easily the Shihoin woman was able to recognize Kurotsuchi in that gigai.
"You haven't changed a bit," the were-cat grinned playfully before reaching out and ruffling his hair like he was some kid. The patronizing gesture infuriated the Twelfth Captain, but owing to the load in his hands he could do little other than squeeze his eyes shut and expel an angry sigh. Once again, Retsu felt a curious tug at Yoruichi's words, but whatever question that had popped up in her mind was pushed to the back at her awe in seeing the much shorter woman belittle the fuming scientist like that. "Though seeing you here in the world of the living is definitely new. I thought you didn't take breaks. Let me guess: the old man had a hand in this, didn't he?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Yes, please."
"Well, too bad. You want details? Ask him yourself, he'd be delighted to have you over."
"Have it your way. But you at least gotta tell me how you got roped into being the bag boy," she snorted at the audible grumble from the blue-haired man. Kurotsuchi was seething by now and had opened his mouth to retort or maybe unleash a string of curses at her but something else had sprung to his mind, and Unohana watched in creeping dread at how instantaneously his face transitioned from exuding intense repulsiveness to sly glee. He shot a knowing look at her and Retsu furrowed her brows, not liking things one bit.
"Master demanded it," he said, lips curling up to reveal more of his square teeth than what could be seen in his resting expression. "Woof."
Retsu blanched, growing cold under the shocked glare of the Shihoin woman who had seen and was now interpreting the wordless exchange that had just passed between the two. There was a momentary silence that fell upon them, save the sounds of a busy and crowded mall roaring about them, and the Fourth Captain stood in the middle of it all, doing all that was possible in her power to keep herself from chokeslamming her co-worker from the Twelfth several feet underground.
"Ah Captain Kurotsuchi, you and your silly jokes," she waved the comment away with a tight-lipped smile.
"We're keeping this a secret?" he tried to sound like he was whispering it to her but was loud enough for anyone within a couple of feet of them to hear. Retsu inhaled deeply and deliberately, her vision slowly starting to turn crimson. Kurotsuchi returned his attention to the other female whose mouth was now hanging open like a fish and began stammering. "Ah yes, joke. It was a joke. I was totally joking. Me and my silly jokes, ha-ha."
"Kid, for your sake you'd better stop right there. You do not want to push Retsu any further," Yoruichi warned despite the fact that she was relishing in Mayuri's sheer audacity as well as the absurdity of the story he had concocted. He either had little regard for his own life or was incredibly dense to not notice the violent energy Unohana was emitting, but the Shihoin woman was not so stupid as to let his charade go on any longer lest the older woman finally erupt. She'd only ever heard about her fury which had over hundreds of years gained a mythical status – no one had ever seen her truly angry and what little glimpses they had seen of it through the filter of her gentle words and polite smile were enough for even the most disobedient shinigami to do their best to stay in her good graces.
She had to give credit to the Fourth Captain for keeping it together for so long, but didn't count on her veneer of collected calm to remain intact for long. Kurotsuchi had to stop. And the frown he gave her when it turned out she was not buying it was a good indication as any that it wasn't worth his while to keep playing along. She saw Retsu's shoulders relax and the dangerous aura pulsating about her begin to dissipate with the knowledge that Yoruichi was on her side. After all, when it came to choosing between her and the clown, there was no competition.
"I'd better run. I promised Ururu I'd take her bra shopping after she gets done with her club stuff today," she announced, taking a glance at her watch. Turning to Unohana, she took her by her shoulders and beamed. "Let's meet up again! Maybe have lunch or something tomorrow with the rest, do some serious catching up."
"I'd be delighted!"
"You're invited too, numbnuts," she tilted her face in Kurotsuchi's direction who all but grimaced and responded with an "Eat my shorts" that failed to faze the were-cat even still. She diverted her attention back to the Fourth Captain but this time spoke in a subdued tone. "He's all bark, no bite. Don't mind him."
"I don't plan to," came the response, and the healer gave her hands a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Content that she was leaving her ex-colleague in a better mood, she slinked away into the throng of shoppers but not before waving goodbye. Had she turned around to give the two one last look, she would've witnessed Retsu giving a nice hard kick to Mayuri's rear.
"Assaulting a fellow officer unprovoked while off-duty? The nerve! I'd be sure to write a lengthy report about this!" the man whined loudly as he slowly began dropping off the bags in the open trunk, the cab driver quizzically shifting his gaze between the two and silently wondering if he'd accidentally picked up a bunch of nutcases. Retsu sighed dismissively, hands on her hips while she did her best to tune out her co-worker's constant prattling. He refused to shut up ever since Yoruichi had left them, obviously to annoy the braided captain to no end but she'd already understood that the best way to deal with him was to give him as little attention as possible.
But goddamn was it hard work trying to ignore Kurotsuchi. And with her patience already wearing thin due to the severe lack of tea or maybe even alcohol in her system, it took a great amount of resolve to maintain this strategy.
"My ass almost broke in half!" he continued and the driver began looking off to the side nervously, searching for hidden cameras and maybe some TV-crew equipment somewhere. "I won't be able to sit down for weeks!"
"You know what?" Retsu finally spoke up, raising her hands in a show of surrender. She walked over to his side and relieved a couple of bags from his grip, setting them down in the trunk before turning back to him, a confident expression on her face. "I'm going to be the bigger person here. You can play your silly games all you want, I won't object."
Mayuri rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to the last of the recently purchased items sitting on the sidewalk and put them with the rest.
"I'm not here to seek your approval," he snapped back. "But if that's what gets you through the night– did you just grab my ass?"
The strange pressure of fingers gliding over his right buttock was unmistakable and he immediately stiffened at the touch. He saw movement from the corner of his eyes and glanced back at Unohana who was giving him a triumphant grin as she sat inside the car.
"Did I?" she queried teasingly and Kurotsuchi remained still, his brain refusing to comprehend what had just transpired as well as failing to notice the Fourth Captain signalling to the cab driver. The sharp noise of the car door snapped him out of his disturbed trance and he saw the window roll down, Retsu leaning her head out the window and waving what seemed to be his wallet. "Enjoy your walk, Captain Kurotsuchi."
The wheels screeched as they turned, kicking up dust into his face and sending him into a coughing fit. He flailed an arm about to clear away the cloud of asphalt that was invading his lungs By the time he was able to open his eyes, the cab was already gone.
It was already past lunch when Retsu had finally reached the house, which was why she was understandably confused when she smelled tantalizing aromas drifting out from the kitchen window and scenting the air outside. Assuming either Soi Fon or Kuchiki had whipped something up, she'd crossed the driveway and was about to fish out her keys when the door pulled open from the inside and was met with an unfamiliar face. The stranger beamed as she took a step back and curtseyed, introducing herself as Miki Sugimori with an exaggerated French accent. The Fourth Captain must have been wearing a perplexed expression, for the red-head immediately began explaining in a hurried yet excited tone that her services had been contracted by one Chojiro Sasakibe, and that she was to be their help around the house for the next two weeks.
As if on cue, the girl then produced what she claimed was her certificate as well as the service letter that confirmed her employment here at their temporary abode. If the slightly fetish-y French maid outfit didn't already point it out, Miki went ahead anyway and began counting off the many number of duties that she was to perform, taking care to point out how she excelled in Italian and French cooking. That explained the delicious smells; Retsu felt relieved over how meticulously the Commander had planned the whole vacation, and promptly introduced herself although she did leave out the being a death god part.
Miki had curtseyed once again before stammering an apology over why she'd been late that day – she was meant to have arrived at 9 in the morning and started off with breakfast, but her phone's GPS system was being finicky and she'd gotten lost. That was until she'd run into a hulking man who seemed equally lost as her, but having noticed that he was making his way around with the help of his device's map, she'd worked up the courage to approach the scary fellow and ask for his help. She'd been in great luck because it had turned out they were both heading for the same place, Miki briefing who turned out to be Zaraki on why she was here and what she was meant to do. She'd noted that the man looked deeply confused as she yammered on, as if every word that escape from her mouth was a foreign language to him, but he'd shrugged and let her do as she pleased at the house.
By the time the girl was done profusely apologizing to Unohana, Zaraki had popped his head out of the kitchen, curious over the commotion. Retsu greeted him before asking if he'd be a gentleman and take all the bags out of the cab that was still waiting in the driveway. The Eleventh Captain scoffed in annoyance but lumbered out the door anyway, and Unohana ushered the flustered girl inside as she made her way to the kitchen. Although Miki insisted, a maternal look from the older woman instantly quieted her down, leaving Unohana free to brew herself some much-coveted tea and help herself to a muffin the mortal girl had just baked not long ago.
With a cup finally ready and in her hands, she had made her way to the living room and was coincidentally joined by Soi Fon who went about explaining in miserable detail what a mess Kuchiki's rescue had been.
"He's sleeping it off," the Second Captain remarked tiredly. "I don't know if he'll still be traumatized by the time he wakes up."
"Captain Kuchiki is a man of great resolve," Unohana had scarcely finished the sentence when the entrance door banged open violently, making the younger shinigami nearly jump. Both women turned around and saw Mayuri's lanky figure enter the frame of the living room's entrance, Kenpachi following after him with all their shopping in his arms and a confused expression on his face. The Twelfth Captain's normally dark complexion was tinted red, either due to the heat from the blaring sun or the unbridled fury that was on the very brink of exploding. He was heaving laboriously, sweat-drenched hair glued to his face and hands balled into fists that quivered at his sides. His sharp pupils were squared upon the disinterested Retsu who all but batted her eyes innocently as she sipped away at her tea.
"You…" he began, teeth clenched so tightly that Soi Fon swore she could hear them grating. But whatever threat, insult or assault that was to follow from his end was interrupted by a shocked feminine gasp that came from behind him. The sound was distracting enough that Mayuri had whipped around to see a pale girl in a French maid uniform drop a tray of lemonade she'd been carrying and cry out "Yakuza!"
"Wait, Miki-!" Soi Fon began, leaping off the sofa but in her gigai her reflexes paled in comparison to the mortal girl's, who'd instantly pulled out a small bottle of mace from her skirt pocket and sprayed right into the unsuspecting Kurotsuchi's eyes. The blue-haired shinigami screeched in burning agony as he slapped his palms over his melting orbs and fell to his knees.
"What an unfortunate turn of events," Unohana commented over the mouth of the cup as she tipped it to her lips, a symphony of Mayuri's pained cries, Kenpachi's wild laughter and Miki's panicked apologies ringing throughout the building.
"Yoo hoo~!" a woman's voice rang out from above him and Kurotsuchi tilted back his head, shielding his eyes from the blinding sun to better see the feminine silhouette leaning out from the tower's only window. He lifted a hand as a signal to halt and Nemu promptly stopped knocking the two coconut halves she'd been using to produce the sound of a horse's trot. Seeing the pair still, the figure called out to him again. "Are you the prince come to rescue me?"
"What?" Mayuri voiced his confusion but only loudly enough for his ears to hear. The angle of the sun had cast a dark shadow over her features so even if he would squint to try and make out her face from that distance, he wasn't going to get lucky unless he went up to her or she'd come down. He'd already made a circuit around the lone structure and having found no door assumed that it was a long-forgotten monument rather than something that can be made into a home. Yet here was an actual person who seemed to be residing in this column of stone, and it made the blue-haired man ponder how she had gotten inside without any visible entrance.
Perhaps there was a hidden passage somewhere? He could circle around the base one more time and check for signs of an entryway, but decided against it when he saw that the grass remained tall and sprightly except for where he and Nemu had trodden upon. Scratching his chin in mild interest, he eyed the shadowy woman still waiting for his response and took note of the abnormally large size of the singular window. It became instantly apparent that he was staring at the entrance to the mysterious tower, though he still remained curious as to why the building was designed the way it was and why the woman was expecting to be rescued.
Although visibility was poor, her outline and melodic voice were clear indicators of good health. Obviously she had to get nourishment from somewhere, and that meant that there was a means for her to get down and back up into the tower. So if she could leave her stone prison any time, why was she still waiting on the kindness of some prince who would, either some day or never, whisk her away? And suddenly it hit him: none of this was actually happening. A damsel trapped in a single-windowed tower in the middle of the woods was the setup for an old fairytale Mayuri recalled having heard or read somewhere. The details were still blurry, but if this was indeed the story he was thinking of then the woman would let down a curtain of hair nearly as long as the tower for her rescuer to climb up on.
"I'm no prince," Mayuri snickered, deciding to play along and see how the scenario would unfold with him interfering in the narrative's logic. "But sure, I'll get you out of there as soon as I find a way inside."
"Here, you can use my hair as rope!" the woman suggested excitedly as she ducked back inside to collect her locks, and Kurotsuchi continued to cackle. He wiped the tears brimming in his eyes when he paused to catch his breath but fell silent when he beheld a long black braid dangling in front of his face. There was something eerily familiar about the colour of the hair and the way the braid had been done, but for some reason the name and face of whoever it reminded him of evaded him. He lifted his chin back up toward the woman and it seemed to him that the shadows obscuring her features had suddenly grown a lot darker. He felt his mouth go dry but didn't understand why he was compelled to slowly wrap his fingers around the thick braid and be gently lifted up into the air, drawing ever closer to the only living soul in the tower who had ominously retreated back into her abode.
Arriving at the lip of the entrance, he found purchase on the sill and pulled himself inside a cosy little room. Embers glowed in the fireplace, a snoozing black feline curled up on the rug. Flowers decorated every shelf, table and awning, and potted plants took space along the parameter. Framed pictures of several faces, some familiar to Mayuri while others still a mystery, decorated the walls. The interior was the picture of innocence, inviting to the weary traveller in need of a place to rest and feel at home, if it weren't for the coils of braided black hair that covered nearly the entire expanse of the floor.
"Aw jeez…" Kurotsuchi groaned when he spotted the owner of the impossibly long plait seated in a wicker chair, finally able to recognise her under the light of the oil lamps.
"You sound disappointed for some reason," Unohana blinked, leaning her cheek into her hand.
"Of course I'm disappointed. I come up here expecting to save a princess and usurp the throne but the damsel here had to be you of all people."
"I'm sorry?"
Mayuri rolled his eyes at her. Her obliviousness was either a ploy in a bid to remain in character or perhaps she was simply just obeying her nature as a fairytale character and playing out her designated role in the age-old story. Whatever the truth was, her blue-haired "prince" had already lost any interest he had in this curious dream and was unwilling to let the rest of the tale laboriously play out. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back against the window sill.
"Alright, cut it," he ordered. "We know how things go: the witch comes back, she blinds the would-be rescuer and cuts Rapunzel's hair, everyone dies, the end. So let's just skip to the ending."
"The ending?"
"Yes, I'll shove you out of the window first and follow right after once I've seen you explode like a watermelon on the ground. I can only imagine how excellent a mood I'll be in when I wake up with the knowledge that I got to kill you in my dreams."
Retsu tilted her head like a confused puppy, her inaction irritating Kurotsuchi who was now tapping his foot impatiently on the wooden floorboards.
"Come on, I ain't got all day!" he snapped but the woman refused to budge, smiling complacently as she folded her arms in her lap and shook her head at him.
"You're mistaken, Kurotsuchi," she began, the Twelfth Captain lifting a brow at her words. "There's no princess in this story."
The black cat's eyes suddenly snapped open, her pupils sharp slits slicing through the very centre of her golden irises. She yawned, revealing a maw lined with several rows of sharp, serrated yellow teeth, and stretched lazily before setting her hungry gaze upon the now frozen man.
"There… there isn't?" he barely managed to squeak despite the suffocating lump that had formed in his throat.
"No."
She slowly rose from her chair and the burning lamps mysteriously flickered at the movement, sending a shock of dread down Mayuri's spine that made him shiver. Or perhaps it was the sudden drop in temperature that was making him involuntarily quake, it was hard to tell but the need to flee overpowered any interest he could possibly have in finding out. But despite the deafening screeches of his survival instincts , his body simply refused to budge, feet planted flat on the wooden floor that creaked under the weight of the myriad coils of hair that now seemed to be slithering about on their own. Whatever threat he tried to vocalize in a feeble attempt to ward her off instead came out as a choked whimper.
"But you are right about there being a witch. She lives in this tower, you see… pretending to be a helpless maiden in need of rescue so she could lure in gullible adventurers every now and then."
"W-w-what for?"
The Fourth Captain gave him another tilt of her head, the curve of her lips deepening. The cat meowed impatiently.
"Come now, you know why. Didn't you wonder yourself how I could remain in perfect health if I couldn't leave the tower?"
Something inside him finally snapped, giving life to his petrified muscles, and the blue-haired man whirled around, clambering for the window and the sweet release of a 50 foot drop to his death. He felt a vice grip on his waist and legs, the braid having come to life, and it dragged him away crying out for dear life from his only escape. It twined around his entire body nigh instantly, forming a tight cocoon of plaited black hair that was slowly crushing his bones. Despite having the air in his lungs squeezed out of him, a pained groan somehow managed to escape him, and he lifted his lashes, spotting Retsu's content face and the tail of her braid taking the shape of a massive serpent's head through quickly fading vision. Her tresses parted as the snake widened its maw, swooping down upon its helpless prey.
Mayuri closed his eyes.