CONTAGION

CHAPTER THREE

Rukia adjusted the fold of her sash, swallowed nervously, and knocked on the door.

"Enter," her elder brother stated, as passionless as ever. He must have recognised her knock, but he made no attempt to use her name, or add any inflection to his voice.

Rukia pushed the door back and stepped into the room, bowing as she did so. From the corner of her eye she caught sight of another shinigami -- no, another Captain -- no, her Captain -- and made a mental note to do something painful to the guard on duty for not informing her that Kuchiki-taichou had a visitor. And who the visitor was. She converted her bow into a neat double reverence, and slid the door closed behind her as she straightened, keeping her eyes meekly lowered.

"Rukia," Byakuya said, acknowledging her presence. "You have a report on the situation?"

Ukitake-taichou gestured vaguely. "If I should go . . ."

Byakuya shook his head. "I would be grateful for your opinion on the situation. It may be a problem that we will have to deal with as a whole, rather than in separate Divisions."

Somehow Rukia felt that certain other Captains, such as non-aristocrats, would not have been asked to remain. But who was she to comment? Especially when this was a chance to get herself transferred back onto normal duty. She folded her hands behind her back, raising her head. "We found the bodies of the other five people who had been on patrol in that area, sir, killed by a single Hollow. While investigating, we were attacked by four Hollows that seemed unnatural. Abarai-fukutaichou disposed of them," she decided to leave her own part of the action out for the moment, and besides, Renji had been the one who finished them all off, "and we then returned, with the Vice-Captain going to check with Fourth Division as to whether there was any further information on what Unohana-taichou had been saying about infection."

Ukitake-taichou frowned. His chair creaked as he turned to face her. "Malformed Hollows? Infection?" He swung back towards Byakuya. "Forgive me, Kuchiki-taichou, but this all sounds rather worrying."

"It is," Byakuya stated briefly. "Describe the Hollows, Rukia. Why do you say that they were unnatural?"

Rukia frowned, calling their images to memory. "While Hollows are rarely of a particular shape or form in any case, sir, these were, um, deformed. Their masks were warped and altered, their holes seemed to be moving, and they seemed to be constantly shifting and flexing as though they were about to start, um, growing. I was reminded of the one that killed Shiba Kaien," she added reluctantly, and saw Ukitake's face pale. "While three of them weren't really any more than normal Hollows, the fourth was tougher than expected, and the vice-captain had to call on his zanpakutou to finish it off conveniently."

Byakuya raised an eyebrow. "That strong?"

Rukia hesitated. "I think that he could have dealt with the Hollow without it if he had to, sir, but it seemed to be starting to expand. We felt it would be unwise to let it do so."

"Mnh." Byakuya picked up an inkbrush, wrote something on a piece of paper, and put it down again. "Was there anything else of interest?"

"They recognised my name, sir." There. Now I've done it.

Both men looked at her; her brother impassive, bland, giving nothing away, but now she felt she could read him a little better than before, and perhaps even that blankness was a message in itself, a statement of emotion simply in its denial. Ukitake-taichou was easier to read, face showing clear concern and sympathy. He was the first to speak. "Aizen?"

Rukia felt her lips thin as she stiffened herself to remain calm. "Well, they did say the "Master" would reward them for our deaths, and talked about bringing our heads back for him, and that a new age had come, and that they would arise and swarm the gates of Soul Society and consume all, sir. It seems plausible."

Tone down the sarcasm when reporting to elder brother, she reminded herself half a second too late.

Byakuya's brows drew together. Instead of waiting for a while to allow her to realise the depth of her rudeness, however, he commented, "It does. Did you take a part in the fight yourself?"

"Strictly in self-defence, sir," she answered. That one she'd been waiting for. She let her perfectly clean clothing and unwounded state speak for itself, rather than try to justify her actions.

Ukitake-taichou steepled his fingers. "She's certainly fit for the job," he commented to Byakuya, "and I would find her assistance very useful at the moment. You know that with the loss of three Captains, we're all running short-handed . . ."

Byakuya made an indeterminate noise that could have been vague agreement or absolute refusal.

"And this infection business?" Ukitake-taichou asked.

"Renji knows more about that than I do, sir," she answered. "He told me that Unohana-taichou had been checking him and other people in case whatever happened to poor Rikichi was contagious. Though as I said, personally it reminds me of that previous problem with a Hollow." She chose not to mention names this time. It had been painful enough to say Kaien's name once already. "Ah -- could there be some link with those malformed Hollows that attacked us?" She remembered a concept that Ichigo had used at one point, but failed totally to remember the words. "Targeted diseases?"

Both Captains frowned at the thought, then exchanged glances. Slowly Byakuya said, "Someone should speak to Twelfth Division about this."

"Someone should," Ukitake-taichou agreed. He did not sound enthusiastic or ready to volunteer.

"Unohana, perhaps," Byakuya suggested.

"She'd be far better suited to understand what he had to say than we would," Ukitake-taichou agreed.

"I'll mention it to her." Byakuya frowned. "Is there anything else, Rukia?"

"No, sir," she said, and bowed.

"I'll speak with you later." He gestured her out, and she obeyed, with a last glance towards Ukitake-taichou, and a last silent plea for intercession and a return to duty.

Byakuya walked in on Rukia later without preamble, coming into her study and finding her with her hands still knotted in a kidou mudra. With a quick gesture he cut off her attempts to explain, or at least apologise, and said, "I'm returning you to active duty."

Rukia's eyes widened, and she clasped her hands to her heart, overtaken by sheer joy. "Oh, elder brother . . ."

"With a couple of other points." He seated himself in her chair, leaving her standing. "Firstly -- what is the name of that Fourth Division healer who attempted to rescue you?"

"Hanatarou," Rukia supplied. "Ah -- do you want me to ask him for further details, elder brother?"

He nodded slightly. "It is possible that Fourth Division will be more occupied with taking care of the injured than in providing timely reports. Additional information would be useful."

Rukia's eyes narrowed, but she didn't allow a single trace of so why don't you trust Unohana, or who do you think is going to censor her reports to enter her face. "Of course, elder brother. I will ask him in passing." An idea sparked. "Indeed, if Thirteenth Division is sending shinigami to Fourth Division for checkups too, then I might well need to liaise with Fourth Division for reports, and could speak to Hanatarou then."

It isn't using him, she reassured herself. It's just finding out what's going on. And she forced to the back of her mind all those memories of being locked away in the high tower with no news, no speech, nothing, only the walls and the window that looked out on the execution block, and all the desperate helplessness that had ground her down to a edge that would have slit her own wrists.

He nodded. "Also --" This time, he hesitated. "Ukitake's conduct disturbs me."

Rukia drew a quick breath between her teeth. The Captain's health was uncertain, but if it had become positively dangerous . . .

Byakuya looked at her with eyes as cold as winter lakes. "Ukitake-taichou did not react in the way that I expected to certain parts of the news. I wish to know why."

Slowly, feeling as if her face had frozen, Rukia said, "You put me in a difficult position, elder brother."

"You are a Kuchiki." He rose in a swirl of robes and scarf. "I am confident that you will do your duty."

The door closed behind him.

"Rangiku."

Rangiku raised her head from her arms and looked blearily across the desk at her Captain. His white spiky hair seemed to glow in the morning -- no, make that mid-afternoon -- light.

"Have you finished those checks?" Hitsugaya asked impatiently.

Purely in the interest of gaining a few seconds to try to remember which checks he was talking about, she raised her arms above her head and stretched. Her bosom heaved. Memory hit mid-flex. "Oh, those checks, sir," she said while her Captain's attention was mid-wobble. "Yes, all done."

Hitsugaya swallowed. "Good. Any word from Fourth Division?"

"They say they'll have that patrol of ours back by tomorrow, sir." Rangiku lowered her arms and folded them again. "Some sort of routine medical check on exterior patrols over the last few days."

Hitsugaya frowned. His eyes glinted like polished ice. "That was all the reason they gave?"

Rangiku tried to remember the report in question. Had it been pre-drink or post-drink? She was fairly sure she'd have remembered if they'd said anything important. "Yes, sir."

Hitsugaya began to pace thoughtfully. "Doesn't the timing seem a little odd to you, Rangiku?"

Rangiku shrugged. "I didn't like to argue with Unohana-taichou, sir."

"Think about it." He counted points off on his fingers. "Why now, when we're expecting an attack? Why just people who've been outside on wide patrol, rather than everyone? Why force them to come in to be checked, rather than just sending competent healers out to all the Divisions separately? Why didn't Unohana mention this at the Captains' Meeting five days ago, if it was planned?"

"Well, then, it can't have been planned," Rangiku agreed. "Perhaps there's a disease going round in the outer districts?"

"Hm. Possible. But in that case, why not tell everyone publicly? And why not send the healers out there instead?"

Rangiku shrugged. "To avoid panic?"

"There's a simpler solution than that." Hitsugaya stopped. "Twelfth Division."

Rangiku tried to follow the logic. "You think they're behind things?"

"It'd explain so much." He turned to face her. "The fact that Unohana-taichou doesn't want to get into another inter-Division conflict, under the current circumstances. The reason why she's avoiding any public discussion of it. If Kurotsuchi-taichou has unfortunately, um . . ." He hunted for words.

"Released a deadly killer bug on Soul Society," Rangiku suggested helpfully.

Hitsugaya gave her a glare. He disliked that sort of terminology. "We need to know more."

"You could investigate." When Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow, Rangiku pointed out, "He likes you."

Hitsugaya swallowed. "That's beside the point."

"He sees you as his intellectual equal -- okay, his intellectual possible disciple, sir." She waved aside his mounting objections. "He's never as rude to you as he is to the other Captains. If you just went over there and said you wanted to talk to him and see what he was up to, I'm sure he'd show you round."

Hitsugaya looked mildly nauseated. "I could send you."

Rangiku gave her most dazzling smile. "I don't think he likes me, sir."

"I'm not sure I do at the moment, either," Hitsugaya muttered. "Very well. Send over a runner. See if he can give me an appointment today or tomorrow."

"With pleasure, sir," Rangiku said sunnily. Ah, this was the way to wake up.

Ise Nanao was filing reports when her Captain drifted through her door in a cloud of wine fumes. She laid her brush down precisely next to her current document, and looked up, steepling her fingers demurely.

Kyouraku-taichou dropped down into his chair in a loose billow of pink robe. One large hand tilted his hat so that he could inspect her; the other dangled loosely over the arm of the chair.

"Sir?" she asked, after the requisite few moments of polite silence.

"Nanao-chan," he said, and she knew it was serious because he had forgotten the my lovely, not to mention the my beautiful, my adorable, and my exquisite. "I need some research done, and some investigation done, and I need it done quietly."

"Sir," she said, and her fingers interlaced themselves, eager to be flicking through papers.

"And I want you to come to it with an open mind."

She raised an eyebrow. "Does that mean you're not going to tell me what it's about, sir?"

He smiled. "Brilliant as always!"

Every once in a while, her unalterable devotion and loyalty to her Captain would hit these little roadblocks. "Where would you suggest I start, sir?" she asked resignedly.

"Twelfth Division." He watched her from under the rim of his hat.

She was silent for a moment, considering. "Kurotsuchi-taichou is . . . quite careful about his security."

Her Captain nodded. "He is. However, he's going to be having a meeting with Hitsugaya-kun early tomorrow morning."

Nanao raised her eyebrow again.

"Heard it over a cup of wine," Kyouraku-taichou explained blandly. "I don't suppose you have anything you urgently need to discuss with pretty little Nemu?"

"Hm." Nanao considered several options. "A while back, Kurotsuchi-taichou was proposing a new type of anti-Hollow shielding. I could suggest that you were curious but that you wanted to see the data first."

"I leave it in your capable hands." He relaxed into his chair.

There was silence.

Eventually, the Captain said plaintively, "Darling Nanao-chan, is there any wine in my desk?"

Byakuya waited for Renji to finish his report without asking any questions. Renji himself did not find this particularly reassuring. He was used to being pulled up and queried. Maybe even several times in one sentence. On this occasion, however, his Captain seemed to want to listen to the full details as a whole.

Somehow he didn't think it was because Kuchiki Byakuya liked the sound of his voice.

Eventually he finished and stood there in quiet prayer. Please let him not have noticed the bit about Rukia-the-idiot fighting. Please let him not have noticed the bit about Rukia-the-moron fighting. Please . . .

"Mm." Byakuya regarded Renji, dark eyes deep in thought.

Dear gods, if he doesn't notice this I promise to amend my way of life and cut down on the alcohol and swear at least a bit less . . .

"I have a mission for you, Renji," Byakuya continued. "It will not involve Rukia. She is returning to duty with the Thirteenth Division."

Fuck yeah! Renji's innermost soul exulted.

"You are going to Earth," Byakuya finished.

Renji blinked. Blinked again. "Earth?" he said, then quickly added, "Sir. Why?"

Byakuya gave him a slightly pitying look. "Really, Renji. Have you forgotten the anomaly there?"

And it hit him. "Urahara. That weirdo Ichigo mentioned. He knows way too much. And even if he isn't on Aizen's side, he --"

But Byakuya was shaking his head. "Not just that. This was before your time, Renji, and I had not been a Captain long myself when it happened, but Urahara Kisuke was the previous Captain of Twelfth Division. He left. He was exiled in his absence. His crimes were never fully discussed. The previous Head of the Covert Ops Division, Shihouin Yoruichi, left at the same time."

Renji was aware his jaw was hanging open. Oh, holy shit. His Captain had to be joking. Except that his Captain never joked. And when he considered all the things that apparently this Urahara guy had been responsible for, not to mention Miss Furry Sex On Two Legs . . . "You think he's somehow responsible for this?"

"I think," Byakuya said flatly, "that we can no longer afford not to investigate. For a long time nobody has known where Urahara Kisuke fled to. Now that we do know, and now that he may have a reason to cooperate with us -- we need to find out if he is involved in this. For his sake as much as our own. You are going alone, Renji. Be careful."

"And -- do I tell that Ichigo boy, sir?" Renji asked.

"Him?" Byakuya blinked. "Him least of all. He has finished his involvement with Soul Society. Let it rest there. Now go."

"Something weird and unusual is going on."

"Fuck, yeah."

"I think it's possibly related to Twelfth Division."

A stretch. A scratch. "Could be."

"Want to check it out?"

"Sure. Why not?"