CONTAGION
CHAPTER FIVE
This time Renji had been provided with a gigai.
He was trying to get over the subtle but definite impression that it was too small for him. Particularly in certain areas. Or perhaps it was just the way that these modern clothes were cut. Yeah. Nothing like proper fundoshi and hakama.
Anyhow. Earth, check. Living people, check. Early morning, check. Lots of people running around, check. Rapid duck into corner shop to avoid that Ichigo kid and associated awkward explanations, check.
Discovery that he had not been issued any money with which he could buy drinks, check. And what was this shit about official drinking age?
Rapid return to street, check.
"Oooooh!" squealed an unhelpfully familiar voice from across the street. "It's Renji-kun!"
Rapid collision with flowing walnut-orange hair and generously proportioned bosom, check. And dragon -- no, wait, another schoolgirl -- giving him a disapproving stare.
Clearly it was going to be one of those days.
Rukia settled the folds of her clothing properly and tried to raise the nerve to knock on Ukitake-taichou's door.
It shouldn't be that hard. She'd done it often enough in the past.
(But of course in the past she hadn't committed a major crime and been sentenced to death and most inconsiderately caused great inconvenience to everyone she knew and cared about . . .)
This was ridiculous. She was a Kuchiki. More to the point, she was a shinigami. There was nothing here to be afraid of.
(And it was pure coincidence that she had decided to leave it till the next morning before returning to duty in order to make sure that everything was in order and that she didn't somehow turn up halfway through the day to find out that she wasn't needed any more and . . .)
She set her teeth and knocked. Once.
"Come in!" Ukitake-taichou called cheerfully.
She slid the door open nervously. The Captain was seated at his favourite table, nursing a cup of tea. He looked up at her with a smile. "Ah, Kuchiki. Good to have you back. I'm afraid we frankly can't spare you for duty in the living world at the moment, we're rather too busy here, but right now --"
She was backed into by two people simultaneously, and spun, one hand dropping to her sword hilt, to find that she was being run over by the Combined Third Seat Assault Force, both of whom were simultaneously making excuses and explaining that it wasn't their fault, with Kyouraku-taichou directly behind them and less than his usual beaming self.
Clearly it was going to be one of those days.
"Excuse me just one minute," said Kyouraku-taichou, taking a Third Seat by the shoulder with each hand and diverting them out of the door behind him. "And I'm sorry, Rukia-chan, but I need to speak to your Captain just a moment. Don't go away. In fact, definitely don't go away." He tousled her hair while somehow moving her out through the door as well. "This won't take long," he said briskly, and closed the door behind him.
"He's gone insane," Kotetsu Kiyone declared vengefully, adjusting her collar. "We need to protect the Captain from this maniac."
"Absolutely," stated Kotsubaki Sentarou, rolling his shoulders. "We cannot allow the Captain to be stressed like this."
Rukia weighed possibilities against disasters. "You could distract him with wine," she offered sweetly, "if you were to fetch some of the Captain's private stock from the cellar."
They both looked at her.
"Brilliant!" Kotetsu Kiyone glowed with enthusiasm. "You stay here, Sentarou, while I --"
"No, no," Kotsubaki Sentarou countered, already jockeying for position and preparing to take off from a standing start. "You wait here while I --"
An instant later, Rukia was alone save for the sound of pounding feet.
It did not once cross her mind to consider listening at the door, and she was extremely proud of this. No, she would merely wait out here in the corridor quietly and amuse herself by listening to the sounds of 13th Division life and --
"You want me to what!" Ukitake-taichou shouted.
Her hand was already on the doorhandle before common sense reasserted itself. Just because her Captain was shouting did not make it an emergency. Kyouraku-taichou was replying, and no doubt the discussion would calm down in just a moment --
A loud crash.
With only the barest commendation of her soul to ancestors (real and adoptive), superiors, and gods, Rukia slid the door back and peered in.
Both the Captains were seated. A vase was shattered on the floor near Kyouraku-taichou.
"Later, Kuchiki," Ukitake-taichou snapped, without taking his eyes off the other man.
Rukia slid the door shut. Possibly the vase had just fallen, after all, and it had merely been an accident --
"It is utterly out of the question," her Captain growled in tones that came quite clearly through the door.
Perhaps she should go elsewhere in order to avoid temptation. But if she did, then someone else might come along, and walk in on the two Captains arguing, and that would be a serious lack of propriety, not to mention a risk of serious bodily harm for the person involved.
Kyouraku-taichou's voice was a gentle, soothing murmur in the background. She couldn't make out what he was saying.
There was another loud thud.
Did her duty as a shinigami involve this? She put her hand on the door-handle again, and felt it shift under her weight.
"Not now!" both men called out together.
Fine. That was clear enough. She would simply stand here, and listen to . . .
. . . two more crashes . . .
. . . some language which she would never have expected to hear from Ukitake-taichou. Shiba Kaien, yes, but really, Ukitake-taichou, she was shocked, not that the words were actually new to her, but even so . . .
. . .another thump . . .
. . . a silence which was in many ways more disturbing than the previous noises . . .
. . . some pained coughing, and that nearly did bring her running in, but she restrained herself just in time . . .
. . . and finally her Captain's voice. "Kuchiki!"
"Sir!" she said briskly, sliding the door back, and seeing with relief that nobody had been strangled and the two Captains were seated just as they had been. (And that a certain amount of debris seemed to have been hastily swept into a corner, and that several ornamental items were no longer in their customary positions, but it would have been impolitic to look too obviously, so she didn't.)
Ukitake-taichou coughed, but it was an official cough, not a serious one, so she restrained herself from looking concerned. "Kuchiki. I am in fact assigning you to the world of the living." He held up a hand to stop the questions she hadn't even managed to formulate. "You are to locate and question Urahara Kisuke. We --" He cast a cold glance at Kyouraku-taichou, who was slouching in his chair and staring vaguely at nothing in particular, "believe that he may know something about the problem which you and Abarai-fukutaichou were investigating. This is a matter of urgency."
It wasn't that she objected to assignment to the mortal world, but -- "Sir, why me?" What if I fail? What if I fail all over again . . .
Her Captain sighed. "Because, Kuchiki Rukia, Urahara Kisuke currently owes you a debt, which makes you one of the very few people who may be able to get answers out of him. And at the moment, we badly need those answers." He gave Kyouraku-taichou another cold look, then turned back to her again. "You will be leaving immediately. Are you capable?"
Rukia swallowed. "With respect, sir, if Abarai-fukutaichou could cooperate on this -- we were looking into the matter together earlier, after all."
Ukitake-taichou's face lightened briefly. "I understand he's already been assigned there. You'll probably be able to catch up with him."
I'm going to kill the bastard, Rukia vowed to herself. "Of course, sir," she said. "Ready at your command."
"Good luck, Rukia-chan," Kyouraku-taichou commented. He tilted his hat to look sideways at her. "Be careful."
She bowed politely to him, waited for Ukitake-taichou to rise, and followed her Captain out of the room.
Ishida had walked (inconspicuously, he flattered himself) past the shop three times now, but had still not quite mustered up the decision to enter. It wasn't as if he was a stranger there, after all; they'd know him from when he and Ichigo and the others had all gone through the Gate together. They were aware of what he was.
If only he was quite sure about what they were.
And there was, of course, the utterly irrevocable fact that walking through that door and asking a shinigami (for really, what else could Urahara Kisuke be?) for help would be a surender of the worst and the most disgusting kind. It was so bitter a thing that he could scarcely swallow it.
But if there was anyone out there who might know how he could regain his powers, then it was probably this man.
What would his grandfather have wanted? Perhaps, just perhaps, he would have wanted Ishida to find a way to keep on going and to protect people -- he need not be precise to himself about which people -- from the Hollows, and from those shinigami who had chosen to ally themselves with the creatures. Perhaps he would have understood this. Perhaps he could forgive Ishida better than Ishida could ever forgive himself.
Ishida walked up to the door and knocked.
The little girl with the long droopy tendrils of fringe put aside her broom and opened the door, looking up at him. "You should have come in sooner," she said. "Your tea's gone cold."
"No," Renji lied. "Nothing serious. Just in the area to check up a few things."
The situation hadn't improved. Kurosaki Ichigo had showed up and was giving his customary impression of a surly punk. And while Renji wouldn't have minded sitting down with the two of them to give them some idea of what was going on -- hell, the Orihime chick was a healer, she might even have something useful to contribute -- he didn't want to start a panic or get them into danger. With any luck Aizen wasn't going to send any of his forces to waste time and effort here. Better to keep them out of things for the moment.
And besides, a treacherous thought at the back of his mind pointed out, getting Ichigo involved in it would somehow (however impossible it might seem) get Rukia involved in all of it, and that was just plain not going to happen. No. No way. Absolutely not. Not in a fucking million years. Therefore no involvement for Ichigo, sorry, hard luck, go do your lessons like a good schoolboy and stay out of the way.
"Are you sure you're fully healed?" Inoue Orihime asked, giving him the sort of doe-eyed look that he didn't mind seeing in a girl from time to time. She was certainly a pretty thing, and if Ichigo wasn't staking a claim then the boy had even less sense than he thought. "You looked so seriously hurt earlier . . ."
Renji gave her soft little hand a pat. "Don't you worry about me, honey. I'm fine. Tough types like me," and he gave Ichigo a smug look, "heal fast."
Ichigo stared over Renji's shoulder. "And idiots who don't know how to fight have to heal fast because they keep on getting into moronic brawls."
Renji made a grab for Ichigo. "Oi, you --"
Ichigo dodged and kicked. Renji pounced. The situation went downhill from there.
Ishida sipped his tea. It had indeed gone cold. "Thank you very much for receiving me, Urahara-san," he started politely.
"No problem at all!" The shopkeeper waved his fan around. "If it's Yoruichi you're here to see, I'm afraid she's asleep at the moment, but I'll be glad to wake her up and tell her you're here --"
"Actually, it's you I'd like to speak to, if it wouldn't be an inconvenience." Ishida put his cup down.
Urahara Kisuke's eyes narrowed under the shadows of his hat. In the background, the little girl pushed her broom around and transferred dust from one area of the floor to another. "Now how can I be of service to a fine customer like yourself?"
The words knotted themselves in Ishida's mouth. Now that he had come to the point, he could not, could not confess his incapacity in front of this man. Or what if he already sees it? What if he can tell that I am powerless? "I -- that is, I have a problem --" he began.
The shop doorbell cut him off. He heard the girl scamper across and the creak of the door swinging open.
A foreign, hostile reiatsu swelled behind him like fire struck by a draught, and he swivelled round in shock. The shinigami Captain -- no, not a Captain any longer -- the shinigami Tousen Kaname stood there, framed by the doorway, gaze set on Urahara.
Rukia frowned as she settled the folds of her school uniform. It was, perhaps, a question of priorities. Should she locate Renji first, or go directly to Urahara? And should she attempt to avoid Ichigo in the process, or not?
She hadn't received any direct orders about Ichigo. Possibly Ukitake-taichou would have given her some if he'd had time to think about it. (And what exactly was going on there, anyhow? It was painfully obvious that Kyouraku-taichou was pushing him into something, and bearing in mind what her elder brother had said about watching for odd behaviour on her Captain's part, there was frankly enough odd behaviour around to keep her busy for the next few years.)
On the one hand, it would be useful to have Ichigo's backup, and she really should make sure that someone in the area knew that there might be trouble. On the other hand, it'd probably take ages to explain it all to him. Even if she drew diagrams.
She resolved to deal with Urahara first and catch up with Renji and Ichigo later. After all, she consoled herself, they were probably capable of looking after themselves if anything did happen. Probably. Idiots that they were.
She began trotting through the streets towards Urahara Kisuke's shop.
Tousen Kaname was wearing a different outfit to the Captain's coat and shinigami clothing that Ishida had seen him in earlier. His high-collared white robe was sleeveless, and his visorlike eyepiece was somehow altered. There was something changed about his posture, too; he stood with a more careful, precise control, rather than his previous easy competence, as though he was constantly leashing back an inner fury.
The words ground zero flickered through Ishida's mind as he glanced from Tousen to Urahara. He might be powerless, but he could feel the reiatsu surging round the two of them like growing thunderheads. Even the little girl seemed to feel it, flinching back nervously against the wall.
And how long before the rest of the town starts to feel it, too . . .
"Urahara," Tousen said, and there was an unsettling under-harmonic to his voice. "Urahara Kisuke. I hope that I am not disturbing you."
"Not at all," Urahara replied politely. He glanced sideways to Ishida, and made a small movement with his fingers, a flick of his eyes; move, sideways, out of the line of fire.
Ishida kept his breathing calm, his own spiritual force -- such as it was -- within bounds, and began to edge to one side, towards the wall of the room.
Tousen turned to look at him for a moment, as though the movement had caught his attention, but he did not seem to fully register Ishida. It was as though he was reacting to the movement of a fly or an insect, something that small and inconsequential. His eyeless stare returned to Urahara. "I have a problem and would appreciate your assistance."
"In what way?" Urahara asked, casually picking up his cane and resting it across his knees. "I had thought that you had thrown in your lot with Aizen Sousuke."
"I have every confidence in Aizen-sama," Tousen stated, voice placid and uninflected. "Through his leadership we shall achieve true justice."
"Then . . ." Urahara let the sentence trail away, tilting his head curiously.
"There have been certain changes lately," Tousen said. His tone did not change. "I have -- not been myself. I am uncertain about Aizen-sama's attitude to this, and thought to consult with you, since you are independent of the Gotei 13 now."
Ishida shifted the last inch that would take him up against the wall, small comfort as it was. There was something profoundly wrong about Tousen's calmness and the contradictions in his speech.
"Is Aizen aware that you are here?" Urahara's question was casually put, as though it was unimportant.
Tousen shook his head. The motion took slightly too long. "No. Aizen-sama would have no need to know that I am here. Aizen-sama is aware of all things. His justice is absolute."
"Then why don't you tell me what the problem is, Tousen-taichou." Urahara lowered his voice to a confiding, gentle tone. "I'll just send the servants to go and fetch us some tea, and you can sit down and we'll talk about it. I'll be glad to help . . ."
Tousen seemed to relax for a moment, but then his whole body twitched in a shudder that made Ishida wish he was several paces nearer to the door. "I -- no. You're trying to trick me," he said, voice still flat. "You're going to betray me. I can't trust you."
Urahara's hands tightened on his cane, but he remained seated, as though aware that the slightest movement on his part would trigger something in his unwanted guest. "Tousen-taichou, you are overwrought." His voice practically oozed honey. "I'm just a shopkeeper now, and all I want to do is to give you what you need . . ."
Tousen moved -- one of those flash steps, an adjustment of position so fast that Ishida could not follow it with his eyes -- and he was holding the little girl's collar, dangling her off the ground. "Perhaps I need to give you reason to help me," he stated.
Ishida was about to move, to say something, because however powerless he was, he could not let that girl be hurt, but Urahara flung out one hand towards him, and he felt reiatsu hovering round him in a kidou that would pin him against the wall and silence him.
"Put her down," Urahara said, an edge in his voice, "or we will all regret it, Tousen Kaname."
"Do you think that I --" Tousen began.
The little girl wriggled. "Attack mode implemented," she murmured sweetly, and twisted in Tousen's grasp, slamming into him in a blow that knocked the shinigami against the wall and that tore her collar free. She skipped away from him as he caught his balance, running back to nestle against Urahara's knee and tilt her head innocently.
The reiatsu pinning Ishida in place vanished. He edged rapidly along the wall, unwilling to step away from it, till he was safely behind the meridian of Urahara's presence. He could hear shouts from elsewhere in the shop and running footsteps.
"I." Tousen raised one hand to his face. His dark flesh seemed to shift as though the bones of his hand and wrist were rippling under the skin. He gasped, struggling for breath, then said, still formal, "I cannot control -- you are -- I am here because --" His reiatsu swelled like a pestilence. "I came here because -- Aizen-sama -- you have betrayed me, you have betrayed Aizen-sama . . ." His robe swelled and swung as if something was moving under it, as if his body was distorting itself. "I will have --"
"Sing, Benihime!" Urahara exclaimed, coming to his feet as he drew his blade.
"I will have justice," Tousen said in a voice which cut through the air, and the air around him exploded in a tornado of form and shape and madness, as Ishida threw himself to the ground.
Across the town they heard the sound of it, the spiritual thunder on the air: and they came running, Rukia and Renji and Ichigo and Orihime, towards the cloud of smoke that was already rising, towards the sound of battle.