A/N: dedicated to Hekka. Enjoy.

Witch CH.9

The dimmed lighting shone on several museum cases of interest to those touring Solomon's archival Hall. Objects associated with the Salem Witch trials, among others reposed on onyx stands behind glass cubes. Surveillance cameras followed the steps of one man, black hair crisp, unruly as ever in spiky waves upon his head, blue eyes paused in reposed observance on the black titanium dial of his watch, a sigh escaped his lips, then affixed his gaze firmly on the ancient artifact before him.

A Defixio, in as perfect condition as could be expected from something of that nature; it had been recovered as one of many such curse tablets from beneath and around the Coliseum in Rome. Punctured holes caused by blunt nails, pierced the broad, flat surface. The man smiled a little, wondering if in fact the curse had ever taken effect upon the victim. Footsteps echoed lightly behind him, approaching slowly with a measured gait, came the very same man to whom Rukia had spoken with the day before.

"Captain Kuchiki," addressed the other, respect tempering his sentence, "I take it your flight took longer than expected?"

"Indeed. Things could not have gone so foully as they very well did when I was there." The Craft Master spoke somberly. "Oh?" Kaien expressed mild surprise, "was Rukia all right?" Casting a furtive glance into the stoic man's countenance and seeing the frigidity visible in the slate gray eyes, he deduced something immediately wrong.

"Is there—"

"No. The orders given to her are being cared out as we speak. I'm merely bothered about the interference of those under Aizen's command. The boy-Kurosaki could be a problem."

"He already is." Kaien said wisely, "the Kano family in particular aren't the only ones with a vendetta against him, and it's no wonder! Following that man's every whim, adhering to practices not properly authorized by HQ." He shook his head, "he's nothing like his mother."

"She was under my tutelage in the early days. It's pity about what happened," Byakuya spoke timely, reminiscently. He glanced at the display, his stern mouth turning in. Kaien took the hint, casually strolling a few cases down to stop before a tiny sign describing the glories of Italy's ancient ruling family, the Visconti-Sforza clan. Inside on a slender stand of black titanium was a Tarot card, the number sixteen, The Tower. Two cards in fact had been lacking in the deck commissioned to celebrate the marriage of one of the Sforza men, the survival of the cards had been assumed either lost to history or never made.

Byakuya rejoined him, his gaze intent on the other's impassive face, "plans for the Inquisition have been announced to SCG, correct?"

"Yes. They're assuming Father Scott to be the Inquisitor as always. I am to go in his stead four months from now—as you requested."

He nodded, "good. The placement of agent IV in a place of proximity to the SCG witch hunters has been cared out to satisfaction as well."

Kaien looked surprised, "Muru! Already? When?"

"I'd prefer you not address agent IV with that incipient name. But since he was one of your pupils," Byakuya trailed off delicately, "then I see your purport of being curious as to his movements. Six months ago just after Senna Kano died." Dropping his gaze to the display finally, he studied the artifact with intense scrutiny; "I must ask this out of my own curiosity for now."

Kaien waited.

"Card Master, what do you see in that boy's future?"

"That boy? Kurosaki, you mean?"

Byakuya lifted his slate eyes to rest once more on the dark-haired man's face, "yes."

Kaien smiled mysteriously, stepping a few paces away from the case and the other's rigid form. "Well…I'd have to say…" he brought his right fist out from behind his back, opening it to reveal a small object, a card. Byakuya didn't look back at the display case, knowing the real thing to be resting now in the very hand of a man who could manipulate all the cards of the major Arcana.

He was the living image of Le Bateleur: The Magician.

"Chaos. Upheaval stemming from negative actions recently or from the past—that is what The Tower predicts for Kurosaki's future," Kaien proclaimed.

~~~Tokyo~~~

"Because Kurosaki isn't in—I will be heading the meeting today," Hitsugaya proclaimed to the room of sleepy hunters. Less than two days rest after their last case and everybody was still feeling the effects—not to mention the time read on the clock above the coffee station: 4:43 am.

Rangiku nodded sleepily, her eyes half-closed. Hitsugaya looked at them each in turn, his expression twitching even more by the passing. "Matsumoto!" he barked suddenly as her head drooped even lower onto her chest. Startled by the yell not meant for him, Renji jerked upright from his slumping position in the center computer terminal, "yeah? Chief…you called?"

Rukia tried hard to keep her composure. To distract herself, she lifted her mug of black coffee to her lips, taking a small sip. Hanataro did the same, stirring his with the clink of a spoon and snap of a red lid from the butter toffee flavored liquid creamer supplied by Urahara's café. Hitsugaya sighed heavily, running his free hand through his short spikes, "can't you guys pull yourselves together for once? Geez…and you call yourself Solomon hunters."

Momo raised her head from her crossed arms on the desk, "'Shiro, you know we're listening. Just tell us why we were called in so early!"

"I told you not to call me that," the Chief muttered, shooting the offending brunette hunter a mild glare. Renji chuckled, earning him an ill-disguised look of contempt. Hitsugaya cleared his throat several times before picking up the topmost sheet of a fax from the arms of his loitering assistant Ishida. "Rarely do we ever get a request from out of the Honshu area. However upon reaching the office today, a faxed letter stating the request of a hunt authorized by HQ and bearing immediate action to be taken—"

Rangiku, awakened by his banter, stifled a yawn with her hand, "where?" she asked, another yawn cracking her voice. Hitsugaya looked on with displeasure, but continued simply, "in Oita province on the island of Kyushu. Beppu specifically."

"Beppu?" Momo said aloud, "isn't that where all—"

"—The tourists go? Yes." Hitsugaya took the next sheaf of papers bound in a manila folder and silently went around the room passing them out. Rukia turned hers over, a frown touching her lips, "Kannawa 'Hells' area?"

Rangiku leaned over, lowering her own paper thoughtfully, "that place is most famous-or-infamous I believe, for their natural hot springs. The onsen is very popular there as well as the puns made on the other kind—" she smiled mysteriously, letting Rukia look up questioningly before finishing, "Oniyama Jigoku: Demon mountain hell."

"We are to leave immediately! Travel expenses for your accommodations have been made--" Hitsugaya interrupted, waiting until the Clairvoyant had smiled sweetly back from the interruption. "At Ashiya hotel near the 'hells' however I expect you will do your job and not waste time fooling around—"

"You have so little faith in my ability to keep them from straying, 'Shiro?" questioned a familiar male voice from the doorway to the office. Hitsugaya spun around, "Kurosaki…"

The black clad lead hunter strolled in, his impassive gaze sweeping the room. Grimmjow followed him in, briskly closing the door and rubbing his jacketed arms from the autumn chill garnered on the ride over there. Momo mouthed a little greeting but quickly looked down at her paper once Hitsugaya shot her a warning look. Kurosaki paused in passing behind Rukia; his slim, gloved fingers tugged the info sheet of the case details easily from her hands.

"No explanation of craft, no reason for this sudden leave of our area. No nothing," he mused thoughtfully after a moment of skimming the neatly printed lines. "All we were given was a name, an order and…permission to kill on sight. Not capture."

Rukia twisted around to watch his face carefully as he moved toward the windows looking out over the street. "I agree, it's most irregular," Hitsugaya eyed the other man's movements the way a small creature might watch the larger hunter. "Why?" Rukia decided to voice her curiosity aloud, "Solomon HQ's policy is thus that any and all whom defile the human race as a whole must be annihilated."

"But that would mean…" Kurosaki withdrew his hand from tying the curtains back. Dim light from the faint moon threw an eerie glow to his handsome face, "you would figure in with that, Kuchiki." He pivoted slowly, his gesture of encompassing those in the room, meaningful, "so would you all."

Rangiku shifted her weight in her chair, nervously. As did Momo, in the way she bit down on her bottom lip, her hazel eyes falling to her clasped hands. Grimmjow glanced at their dour expressions and shrugged non-commitedly, "well I wouldn't."

"Be quiet, Jeagerjaques," Hitsugaya muttered. Renji sat up a little, "well, he's right. Hana wouldn't either—I mean he's a—"

"You shut it too, Abarai."

Closing his mouth, the red head went back to nursing his coffee. Kurosaki tilted the paper a little closer to the light from the window, "a two day trip…expenses for five paid in advance. It seems we are to leave on the six am flight from Narita airport." He turned the dial of his watch, "and we have less than forty minutes to get over there. As we all know it usually takes at least fifty—"

Grimmjow interrupted him, "can I go?"

"There are only five seats paid for. Me, Kuchiki, Rangiku, Momo and Renji—"

"Wait! He can take my seat—on the account of my injury," Renji waved his new tortoiseshell cane in emphasis causing a withering glare to be sent his way. "You're going, Abarai." Hitsugaya growled, "it's either that or—"

"I can pay," the teal-haired policeman added.

Renji looked crestfallen as the Chief and Kurosaki agreed.

~~~*~~~

In the end, Rangiku had to rush home to grab a few things and…leave her pet cat with Hitsugaya at the office. The sedan sat idling at the curb when she reemerged with a hastily packed travel bag. "Here," she wheezed, popping the back seat's door open and dumping the necessities on Rukia's lap. "Zip this for me."

Grimmjow glanced back; only averting his curious stare when Rukia discovered the reason the zipper on its track wouldn't zip up. The lace from the French-cut leg of bright pink underwear was to blame. Momo stifled her giggles as the driver took her seat up front. "What's so funny?" Rangiku questioned, shooting a piercing look into the center mirror. Rukia hastily tucked the offending garment back into its crammed niche. "Nothing," she said quickly as the blond narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

Momo vainly attempted to smother her tickled funny bone while Rangiku eyed them still distrustfully.

"Well…if you say it's nothing…"

"It isn't anything, Rangiku," Rukia assured, "just something-uh-Jeagerjaques-san said while you were gone."

"Oh? What did he say?"

Grimmjow squirmed uncomfortably.

"We'll tell you on the plane." Momo piped up, sensing the petite hunter's quick wits failing.

~~~Oita airport~~~

"You know here in Beppu…I've heard they have this famous museum," Rangiku commented as she and her seatmate from the plane strode toward the baggage area. The conveyor belt rolled along bringing their small bags around the turn. Kurosaki and Renji were spotted further down the line-well-the lead hunter was standing back while the rookie gathered his luggage.

"What kind? A local art gallery?" Rukia asked, her eyes on the violet travel bag that had managed to evade her. "No," Rangiku calmly followed her. The petite hunter reached over for it at the same second as someone else did. "Isn't this yours, Kuchiki?" Kurosaki straightened, holding the offending item out to her. Tilting her head back to look into his face, a thank you on her lips, Rangiku with excellent timing walked up; "It's a sex museum. We should go check it out!"

"A…what?" Momo had come up to them with Grimmjow lagging behind. Rukia used the distraction to hurriedly snatch her bag from Kurosaki's lax fingers, his expression blank but an amused glint flashed briefly through his eyes. Her cheeks felt hot and she turned away, averting from him the incriminating sight. Meanwhile the itinerant honorary hunter had gotten into it with Renji about the merits of hiring taxis or as Rangiku reminded them-her mind off the infamous museum-in her best imitation of Hitsugaya: "we're on a budget! Walk to the site if you have to!"

~~~*~~~

They went by airport Hovercraft and still walked the remaining way. High-heels were not, as Rangiku was forced to admit, the smartest accessory no matter how sexy they made you look-to walk any good distance in. The blond Clairvoyant limped under the peaked shade of the Hotel Ashiya's roofline. Kurosaki had removed his coat and had placed it neatly on top of the bulk Renji was carrying for him. "Shake a leg, Rangiku," he said cheerfully, "you should've known better than to wear those hideous things on an excursion like this."

An eyebrow twitched at hideous. A narrow-eyed glare followed until gray eyes alighted upon the large Indian relief of a temple front and sign proclaiming: Hinokan sex museum, conveniently situated across the street. "Bingo! What luck!" she cried, "look, Rukia! It's that place I told you about! We hafta go check it out!"

"Have any idea what she's talking about?" Renji asked the nearest male, it being Grimmjow. "Not a one," he replied, curiously watching as the Clairvoyant started to drag the two other females of the team across the street, declaring they just had to go take a tour. Kurosaki brusquely interrupted them; "our rooms won't be ready until some time this evening. The manager left the message with the administrator who had booked them for us." He snapped his cell shut, thoughtfully glancing up and down the street.

"Well, what'll we do until then?" Renji leaned against the building side after lowering the burden of travel bags to the pavement. "Take a late lunch, ask a few questions to the locals. We're here for work, you'll remember." Kurosaki answered, earning several eye rolls from those who would much rather sightsee and enjoy themselves then do something so ordinary as work.

"Speaking of lunch…" Grimmjow indicated the way they had just come, "I saw an honest-to-gods taco truck back up the road. How about we eat there?"

"I don't know…" Kurosaki looked doubtful, "those places are usually hotbeds of food poisoning. I can't afford to have any of you get sick while on the job." Momo looked from one to another, finally voicing her opinion, "I'd like to. It's rare to find foreign cuisine in little towns like this." Rangiku shrugged, "if you guys have no objections—" she paused, meaning Renji and Rukia, "then I'm also game."

The petite hunter felt Kurosaki's gaze on her and she replied, "It's fine." Renji hefted the bags up again, grimacing, "just how far is this place? I'm still injured, remember?"

"Yeah, milk it for all its worth, Abarai," Kurosaki muttered scathingly, causing the red head to blush furiously in anger and Rangiku to cluck in sympathy.

~~~*~~~

"What are you having?" Rukia peeked over Grimm's shoulder to the plastic greasy menu handed to them by the overzealous proprietor whose slanted eyes and affected accent when addressing the Senoritas and el senor-as Kurosaki was called immediately, dispelled any lingering doubts as to the obviousness of his nationality. The Policeman frowned, rubbing his jaw distractedly, "fried plantains are supposed to be the specialty. I've never been fond of the things myself," he answered.

"Plantains? Those are like bananas, right?"

"Sort of."

"Hmm…" she glanced back at her own menu then on down the slim counter where the others were in similar poses poring over the lime green plastic. The overhead sun shed light warmth that wasn't too oppressive for the season; in fact it was mildly cold, enough for a sweater or the black trench Kurosaki had put on again.

"Senorita," the proprietor caught her attention, "have you decided on your order?"

Figuring she couldn't go any wrong then it, she shrugged slightly, handing the menu over the metal rim and to the man's waiting hands, "yes. Just an order of fried plantains, please. With caramel sauce and a plain glass of iced green tea."

Grimmjow lowered his menu, about to open his mouth and order the same thing when Kurosaki's voice carried clearly over to him, "the same. I'll have the same as she."

"Me too!" Rangiku seconded.

Momo looked a little helplessly at Renji, unsure of the Barbacoa torta or fried plantains as everyone else. "Eh…we'll have two orders of the plantains," he said, catching her eye and smiling a bit. Grimmjow stared at them, particularly Kurosaki with defiance, "I'll have the Barbacoa torta and red tea flavored with mint."

"Very good. I'll have everything right up." The proprietor cheerfully entered the steaming little kitchenette where such culinary-albeit-greasy delights could be made. "What?" Grimmjow caught Kurosaki's steady look over Rukia's head. You're going to regret it; he seemed to be saying.

~~~*~~~

"The meat in that torta tasted a little off."

"Are you kidding?" Renji glanced at Grimmjow; "I could smell it from all the way on my side! It smelled bad!"

The policeman belched and grimaced once it had faded, "maybe."

"Heh. Serves you right," Kurosaki was heard saying. Rangiku shot him a look, "that wasn't very nice." A breeze kicked up, scattering crackly leaves beneath their boots and heels. Momo slipped her sunglasses into her pocket as the sunlight began to wane, "yeah, Ichigo. That was mean to say something like that. He should apologize, huh, Rukia?"

Cool brown eyes turned her way and hastily she mumbled something noncommittally. "Speak up, Kuchiki," he said in a low tone. She was spared having to answer by a sudden gagging sound and scuttle made by Grimmjow as he covered his mouth with his hands, groaning audibly.

"Uh oh," Renji looked around the rough canvas duffel balanced on his shoulder, "someone's going to be sick," he predicated. Nasty sounds followed.

~~~*~~~

With Kurosaki leading him, Grimmjow was eased onto a narrow twin bed, wrinkling the immaculate floral sheets.

"How do you feel?" he stepped back.

"No better with you here!" the policeman snapped.

"Now boys," Rangiku came out of the small adjoining bathroom, a cool washcloth in hand, "no arguing with Grimm-kun in this condition."

"It's his own fault. He could tell the food was bad but he stubborn—"

"I'm not stubborn!"

"As stubborn as a stupid bull." Kurosaki lightly evaded the pillow tossed by the Clairvoyant. "Cease and desist!" she cried, the door opened and they were in time to witness another barrage of pillow ammunition being thrown at their leader. Even Grimmjow looked shocked at her outburst.

"I'm surprised at you, Ichigo! For HQ to have such faith in your abilities as to place the trust of this team in your care and now to act so childishly!? Argh!" she hopped off the bed and flung the final cushion straight into his sneering face.

"Come along, Momo, Rukia." She commanded briskly, separating the girls from Renji's side. Kurosaki lowered the pillow; an eyebrow rose at their retreating backs, "and just where do you think you're going?"

She whirled on him, "TO GET MEDICINE FOR GRIMMJOW!!! WHAT DO YOU THINK?!!!"

The door slammed climatically after them.

After a long, silent moment, Renji spoke, "whoa. Remind me. Never get on Ran's bad side."

"You said it," the ill one added from the bed.

Kurosaki merely looked on, a slight sneer still twisting his mouth.

~~~*~~~

"Damn him!! Hitsugaya isn't half as bad except on certain things—and I've heard the old days with Ms. Neliel still talked of fondly. Let alone over twenty years ago with Ms. Masaki!" Rangiku was sweeping all before her with a snarl and frigid glare even the contemptible ticket taker leering at her from over the booth of the museum, found hard to ignore.

Rukia looked to Momo curiously, "Masaki?"

"Yeah." She lowered her tone in answering while Rangiku swiped her credit card. "Ms. Masaki was leader before Ms. Nel took over. I think she got married and sort of retired from HQ. Except, I don't know if—"

"Hey," Rangiku turned her attention from the freshly printed receipt and to the eager face of the ticket taker, "by any chance do you know of a man—um—Takahiro Oomori?" Momo had paused and now watched as the man's expression soured.

"Yes," he answered carefully, "there was a man called by that name whom lived here many years ago."

"Great! Can you tell me where he is now if you know?"

Evasively he adjusted the roll of receipt paper, "perhaps." Then casually, "Rumor is that he and his wife moved further up north. This museum boasts some of the Oomori work. I can show it to you if you'll wait until my break."

"When will that be?" Rangiku asked impatiently.

The man-Yukio-read his nametag. Glanced at his watch, "in fifteen minutes or so."

"We'll wait," she declared.

~~~*~~~

True to his word, Yukio led them along the air-conditioned rooms filled with sexual paraphernalia and erotic art. Some of it made Momo gasp quietly into her sleeve and even Rangiku's eyebrows rose more than once at a few things. Rukia passed by most of it with a bland, bored glance. Only halting and her expression changing at what they were shown last.

Dolls. Many of them in various states of undress from elaborate Kimonos kneeling or joined with little wooden men. "Geishas?" Rangiku peered closer to one case, doubt expressed in her voice. Yukio nodded, a gleam that could only be called perverted in his eyes, "yes. Kanae Oomori was famous for her living art collection."

"I can see why they say living art," Momo gulped and shied away embarrassed, "their expressions are so—"

"Lifelike?" Rukia finished, bending for a closer look at two men sharing a rapturous woman. Rangiku straightened, "but you said Kanae Oomori. I thought Takahiro had done these?"

Yukio smiled unpleasantly, "well yes. That's what all the media said about the erotic collection. But signed on some of the last ones," he gestured to a slim beautiful doll with trailing midnight hair and a bared bosom, "the museum director informed me, had the signature of a K and entwined O together. So you see it's obvious that Mrs. Oomori's genius created them all."

"Yes," Rangiku agreed, "I think I do. By the way what town did you say they had moved to? Onta?"

"Why yes," He said surprised.

"Thank you," she said decisively, "girls lets go."

~~~*~~~

"Onta? You had a vision."

"Uh huh. A house near the woods, a light piece of wood being carved by wrinkled hands-uh-" her forehead creased, "and a man saying something like: this place had peace before you came here, Kanae. Onta was different then."

"Then you took a gamble calling that lecher on it." Momo shivered, surreptitiously glancing around for any other masher types loitering around. "He was a lecher in the best sense of the word," Rangiku muttered rolling her eyes heavenward. "Hey, shouldn't we stop at a store to pick up the medicine for Jeagerjaques-san like we said we would?" Rukia interrupted.

"Oh yeah! Damn. I'd forgotten," the Clairvoyant veered around from the Ashiya hotel's doors. "Kurosaki would have our collective heads despite the info we gathered!"

Too true, both girls silently nodded in agreement.

~~~*~~~

An hour later as the dusk had thoroughly set in, the girls marched in the room commandeered by Kurosaki for himself, Grimmjow, and Renji. The red head was to either sleep in the chair or on the floor, not surprisingly the bed wasn't offered and seeing the platonic bedmates he had a choice of, Renji didn't push.

"Pack up, boys." Rangiku announced, depositing their offering placed in a plastic grocery bag onto her partner's lap, startling him. Kurosaki looked over at them grouped by the door, his knees shifted, and crossing over one another, "why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Because. Yours truly discovered an important piece of info."

"Well?" he snapped when she hesitated.

"Keep your fly zipped! I'm getting there!"

Momo burst out with a loud snicker, which she quickly smothered. Covering it over with a nervous smile, she crossed by Kurosaki's bed to get to Grimmjow huddled beneath a blanket. "How're you feeling, Grimm?" she bent in low to peer into his face. His breath rattled noisily and he groaned in misery, "not good at all."

"I suppose Grimmjow might have to stay behind on this one," Rangiku thoughtfully muttered, causing Kurosaki to send her a glare.

"Matsumoto…"

"Oh alright! Spoilsport! Well it's like this, after we left here earlier me and the girls went to…"

~~~*~~~

"Some town called Onta?"

"Yeah. I had a flash of it and heard the name. Then when I questioned the pervert more about it-he admitted that was where the old couple had gone," the Clairvoyant crossed her arms over her chest, her lips pursed in thought. "Then shouldn't we head over there straight away?" Renji was leaning toward them against the cushioned seat of the chair.

"We can't," Kurosaki said darkly.

"Why not?"

"Jeagerjaques."

"Ohhh."

"And you," he smiled unpleasantly.

Surprisingly almost no one heard this last comment; each was wrapped up in the conundrum of their poisoned hunter to notice anything that wasn't much out of the ordinary. Weakly the blankets on the other bed were pushed back and swaying slightly, his usual healthfully tanned face pasty and sweat flattening his teal hair, Grimmjow waved at them reassuringly, "don't worry about me. I'm almost myself again."

"Are you sure?" from Rangiku.

Then, Momo placed her hand against his forehead, brushing away damp locks, "don't push yourself, Grimm. You're only mortal, you know."

"She's right. And besides that…if you weren't in exact shape you'd just be deadweight on the team, like Kuchiki was."

Silence followed Kurosaki's last statement, the petite hunter kept her eyes down on the carpet, mindlessly tracing patterns in the fibers, her mind quietly seething in furious anger. Without Hitsugaya there to keep him from bullying the lower peons, he did as he wished and said as he wished. Soon though…she assured herself, he'd pay for it.

"So it's settled then?" Rangiku broke the tension filled quiet in the room; "we'll leave for the town of Onta in the morning?"

"Uh huh. I'll have to call the administrator about the change in plans. He'll cancel and transfer the funds to another place by then if I call him now." Kurosaki said, all the while Rukia knew the proper channels to go through would be from someone up at HQ, not a man probably asleep in a house faraway.

~~~To be continued~~~

A/N: ick :b I was blanching today at all the fics of a certain pairing that were on the archive page I looked at today-naming no names. Ick. Sorry…ahem. Reviews are appreciated…says sleepily .