Mr. Mochida insists they come with him to the post office.
Rukia assumes the man has finally come to his senses insofar as leaving them alone with all his stuff, but it turns out he just wants them to see how mail makes it to the outer Rukon.
"A shinigami courier can travel ten districts in half a day along the South Road, not counting stops," he tells them. "The schedules are fairly complicated, with stops in every district near the city and increased spacing further out. District 70 is the end of the line. Usually, the couriers stay the night in 60 and make the run to 70 and back in a day so they don't have to spend too much time here."
"Rude," Rukia comments, and Mr. Mochida chuckles.
"Why don't they go past 70?" Renji presses. "What about the rest of us?"
"The South Road continues all the way out through District 80 to the Wilds," Mr. Mochida replies, adjacent to the question without actually answering it. "If a shinigami needs to get all the way to the edges of Rukongai, they are able to. Even in Shiotsuka, shinigami post is infrequent. Once every ten days."
"Every ten days!" Rukia exclaims. "What if our applications are too late? What if we miss the tests?" It's not as if they had any way of knowing what the admissions schedule was when they decided to try their luck as shinigami. It's not as if they had really planned this with any foresight at all. One day, they were three kids who planned to stay in Inuzuri forever, and the next, they were two kids who were desperate to never see it again.
Mr. Mochida makes a calming motion with his hand. "First of all, shinigami post is not the only way mail travels. Shinigami on important missions, of course, have soul pagers and Hell Butterflies, although you don't see many of the latter this far from the city. As for us regular folks, you can pay a messenger to carry things north to a district with more frequent service. The messengers may not be as fast as a shinigami courier, but they can save a day or two if you miss your pick-up. But in our case, the courier is due today. I like to go meet them in person whenever I can. They often have packages for me and it's always nice to see a face from the city."
Renji shoves out his lower lip as he often does when he thinks. "The couriers must be the fastest shinigami, right? The ones who are best at shunpo?" "Shunpo" is a word they heard Mr. Mochida use that morning. It has something to do with moving quickly. Rukia is positive that Renji's understanding of the word is vague at best.
Mr. Mochida makes a non-committal hum. "Shunpo is a slightly different technique. Faster, but more tiring. It is mostly used for short distances and in combat. Couriers generally use ryuupo, flow step. It is more useful for covering great distances. Both of them fall under the umbrella of hohou. I will be teaching the two of you a third hohou technique: hayaashi, the horse trot. It is a foundational form that allows you to drive your body at a strenuous pace for extended periods of time. You are correct, Miss Rukia, that we are somewhat pressed. Time passes more slowly out here than in the Seireitei, so it is difficult to judge exactly how long you have. I think it is safe to say that you will need to master hayaashi in order to make it to your entrance exams on time."
Rukia's head swims a little at this news, but Renji, as usual, has his eyes on the stars.
"Couldn't you teach us ryuupo?" he asks. "If that's better?"
Mr. Mochida laughs. "I can try, but it will not help. The South Road is divided into separate lanes, one for shinigami and one for other travelers. Ryuupo and shunpo are only permitted in the shinigami lanes…and you are not."
"Oh," says Renji.
"You have good spirit, Mr. Renji!" Mr. Mochida declares. "Consider this: hayaashi is a technique that is excellent for building bulk spiritual strength and endurance, but it is tedious to practice. Few of your peers from the higher districts bother to put much time and effort into it. Hohou is the topic that most Shin'ou students have the least familiarity with, and using it on your journey will give you a significant leg up, so to speak."
The pun is so dreadful that Rukia can't help but approve of it. Renji doesn't appear to notice. There is a glint in his eye that Rukia recognizes. Renji has no time for wordplay, regardless of quality. Rukia thought his childhood competitive streak had been ground down by the realities of day-to-day survival in Inuzuri, but apparently he had only packed it away for safe-keeping. His brain is churning itself into a tizzy over the idea of rivals and more importantly, humiliating them.
She can't help twisting the knife in a little deeper. "What about the kids from the Seireitei who are trying out? People from noble families, or the children of shinigami. Surely, they'll already have practiced it."
Mr. Mochida's eyebrows shoot to the sky, just for a moment. "Even less likely," he says, almost underneath his breath. He clears his throat. "Do not worry about them. They are not your competition."
Rukia and Renji exchange a confused glance. "What do you mean?" Renji asks. "Don't they go to Shin'ou, too?"
"Well, yes," Mr. Mochida concedes. "You see. The thing is. There are three rounds of Shin'ou entrance exams. The first round is Preferred Applicants, followed by Regular Decision. You will be trying out under Extended Admissions."
"Because…we're so late?" Rukia knows that it is not because they are late.
"Mmmm," Mr. Mochida hums. "There are sizable application fees associated with the first two groups. In any case," he says very quickly, "The selection process is carefully designed to be very fair! You are very lucky to have shown up when you did. You will be just in time, and I believe you will be very competitive within your candidate group."
The biggest rube in Inuzuri wouldn't fall for this pathetic attempt at verbal sleight-of-hand. But despite herself, Rukia appreciates that he put in the effort.
The courier is a tall, whip-thin woman named Ikariya. She appears to be made entirely of arms and legs. She stretches ceaselessly. The only time she stops stretching is to select a dumpling from an array of bentos sitting on a little table next to her and stuff it into her mouth.
Renji watches her with eyes like twin moons, his mouth slack. Maybe it is the uniform. Unlike Mr. Mochida, Ikariya wears a sleeveless version. It is winter and quite chilly today, but she steams faintly. Maybe it is her legs, which look like willow trees and bend in strange ways. Maybe it's her capacity for dumplings. Rukia suspects he is in love with her, although she's not positive. Rukia has never been able to puzzle out the gears and levers that control the beat of Renji's heart.
All of this is happening in the post office, which is not very large. Fortunately, it is also not very busy.
Besides the bentos, the little table holds a very small pile of letters and a slim book. At least, Rukia thinks it is a book. It is smaller and thinner than any of the textbooks in Mr. Mochida's collection. The cover has several large pictures and some words written in a bold, exciting style. "Acting Captain of the Third Announces Retirement Plans!" Rukia manages to puzzle out.
"Brought you your damn Bulletin, Mochida!" Ikariya announces cheerfully. "You must hold the record for their most far-flung subscriber."
Mr. Mochida smiles, as he seems to do a lot. "I like to keep up, you know."
"It's just Gotei propaganda," Ikariya says genially.
"Oh, no! It was when the First was printing it, but ever since the Ninth took it over, the quality of the reporting has improved remarkably!"
"Whatever you say," Ikariya laughs, hefting one leg up on the table and pressing her cheek against her knee. "Anything to go out today?"
Mr. Mochida's smile intensifies. He holds out a fat packet, wrapped in heavy brown paper. "Two applications for Shin'ou entrance testing! First class postage, please!"
Ikariya stops stretching. Slowly, she straightens up. (She does not bother to remove her leg from the table first. It looks like it's not even attached to her). She seems to notice Rukia and Renji for the first time. Her eyes scan them, and then there is a strange feeling, like the air building up charge before a thunderstorm.
"This is Miss Rukia and Mr. Renji," Mr. Mochida says proudly.
"Well, hot damn," Ikariya says. "They got a little fizz to 'em, don't they?"
"I have very high hopes," Mr. Mochida declares.
Ikariya accepts their applications with great solemnity, and places them in a large leather satchel. (She does finally put her foot back on the ground to do this.) "Good luck, kiddos," she says. "Don't listen to what anyone says, we can always use more recruits from the Rukon." She eyes Renji, or more specifically, his legs. "Everyone always sets their sights on the Gotei, but dispatch is important work. You get loads of fresh air. See lots of the Soul Society. Very few of us get eaten by Hollows. Comparatively."
Mr. Mochida, who is usually so cheerful, levels a dark glare on Ikariya.
She laughs. "He's a Gotei man through-and-through, you know, no matter how long he's been on the recruiter circuit. Which squad were you in? Eight?"
"Ten," Mr. Mochida corrects dryly.
"That explains it," Ikariya grins, even though this in no way explains anything. She stretches her arms high above her head, interlacing her fingers. "I'm joking. There are lots and lots of good jobs for shinigami, and no one'll give you a fairer review of 'em than this guy."
"You must say that you want to go into the Gotei. And this has nothing to do with my own personal biases."
They are sitting in front of a large wall hanging featuring a diagram of the various branches of shinigami service. Mr. Mochida has just spent the over an hour detailing the employees of the Seireitei, from the scholarly research mystics of the Kidou Corps down to the service workers who kept the shinigami fed and clothed. He didn't even spend all that much time, just a few minutes at the beginning, talking about the Gotei. Then again, he didn't really need to. The Gotei is what everyone thinks of when they think of shinigami. The most elite warriors of Soul Society, with their soul-forged swords and their demon magic, traveling across dimensions and slaying Hollows. It is still somewhat hard to believe that Mr. Mochida once served in their ranks.
Rukia glances over at Renji, who had perked up significantly when he found out that the Seireitei employs a lot of construction workers. She has just been wondering if she was getting above herself at the idea of becoming a wraith-like Onmitsukidou spy, listening in on secret conversations and melting into the shadows.
"Really?" Renji asks for both of them.
Mr. Mochida nods solemnly. "They will ask you this question during your interviews, but it has no bearing whatsoever on your eventual job placement. It is to get a sense of your motivations. They like to see ambition. Whether or not they expect you to reach the stars, they like to see you reach for them. The Gotei is the pride of the Seireitei. It is expected that everyone should wish to join the Gotei. Pragmatism will come later, when graduation day looms on the horizon."
Rukia snorts softly. "So we should still be learning to chop vegetables, after all."
Mr. Mochida looks at her for a long moment. "Actually," he says, "candidates from the Rukon are quite likely to earn a spot in the Gotei. I apologize if my advice came off as cynicism. There is strategic importance in aiming high, but it is just as important not to sell yourself short."
They are both perplexed by this, but Mr. Mochida has little more to say on the topic. Instead, he suggests they go outside to have their first hayaashi lesson, which Rukia and Renji agree to immediately.
"It makes sense," Renji says later, after Mr. Mochida has left them to walk laps around the training yard while he prepares dinner. The key to mastering hayaashi is apparently in the rhythm of the steps. It takes five of Rukia's steps to equal three of Renji's, which is a slight alteration of their usual three-to-two walking cadence, but they are getting the hang of it.
"What does?" Rukia grunts, concentrating on lifting her knees higher.
"The bit about Rukon kids getting into the Gotei. Think about all we're going through, just to get to our tryouts. Anyone from Rukongai who gets into Shin'ou has to be pretty decent to start with, otherwise they wouldn't have made it there, right?"
It doesn't surprise her that Renji has been thinking about this the entire time, even though he certainly seemed to be devoting his full attention to the hohou lesson. The intricate workings of Renji's brain are even more mysterious than those of his heart.
"Sure," Rukia agrees. "But aren't nobles all born with naturally high reiryouku? So they'll be pretty decent, too."
Renji shakes his head. "Reiryouku's important, but it's not the only thing. Who's the biggest person in Inuzuri?"
"Watanabe Yuuto," Rukia answers immediately.
"And who's the toughest?"
"You," Rukia replies, with deep loyalty.
"Watanabe's twice my size, easy," Renji says slyly.
"Yeah, but he's lazy and stupid and you wake up early every morning just to think up new ways to punch people."
"Exactly. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm sure there's some tenth-generation Heir to Whatever who's been practicing their kendo since before they could walk, and I'm not saying we're better than them. We are probably better than some lazy slob whose dad paid a big entry fee so they could try out in a big group of other lazy slobs, while we're stuck at the end of the line, trying to outclass a bunch of other outer Rukon badger-wrestlers."
"It was a tanuki, Renji," Rukia corrects. "And no one is a better tanuki-wrestler than me."
"That's right," Renji nods.
Rukia frowns as she digests this. "One thing still seems weird to me. If slots in the Gotei are so prized, why would the rich folks stand for kids from the Rukon getting placed over the hometown babies?"
"I was thinking about that, too," Renji says. "If they needed people to do laundry and sweep the streets, they could just let more people from Rukongai in, right? Why would you have to go to shinigami school for that?"
"I don't know," Rukia insists. "That's what I just said, weren't you listening?"
"It's because they need jobs for those spoiled, lazy babies who want to be shinigami without actually being good at anything."
When it comes to grifting, Rukia has always prided herself on her ability to judge a mark, of looking through someone to see what makes them tick. But Renji has always been better at understanding people, plural. He could always see how all the interwoven ecosystems of Inuzuri fit together and interacted. Not for the first time, Rukia feels unspeakably lucky to be doing this with him.
But speaking of understanding individuals, Rukia thinks back on Mr. Mochida's advice. It is expected that everyone should wish to join the Gotei. If it were truly so self-evident, they wouldn't make everyone say it out loud all the time, now would they?
"You also don't tend to die so much in those jobs," she realizes. "The courier said that, didn't she?"
Renji shoots a finger gun at her. "Good point." He thinks for a moment. "Couple hundred folks per Gotei squad, that's what Mr. Mochida said, right?"
"Mm."
"With twenty officers at the top, counting the lieutenant and captain."
"So?" Rukia frowns, not seeing what he's getting at.
"Just thinking about who gets those upper slots and who gets the lower ones. Lord Fancyface Junior the Kendo Champ needs to have plenty of Rukongai Hollow-fodder to boss around, y'know? Especially since they need to be replaced pretty often."
"Won't be me," Rukia sniffs. "I'm sure there aren't many Hollows as mean as that nasty old tanuki."
"Me, either," Renji snorts back. "I've been thinking up new ways of punching Hollows in the face ever since we got here."
They both chuckle for a moment and continue to galumph around the yard. Rukia isn't sure how this is supposed to save energy. It's making her pretty tired and hungry, to boot.
"Eh, Ru?" Renji says.
"What?" she asks.
"You don't need to be so grumpy, by the way."
Rukia puts on her most offended face. "I'm not being grumpy! I am naturally aloof."
Renji ignores this for the horseshit it is. "I know you don't trust anyone who's not…me, I guess, but Mr. Mochida is nice. He's trying to help us."
The fact of the matter is, if Rukia really didn't like Mr. Mochida, she would be all smiles and fake sweetness to him. They need his help and it scares her and he seems like an actual good person, unlike them, or at least unlike her. She can't tell Renji this, though. Renji already knows more about Rukia than any other person ever has, but he still doesn't know why, in the first weeks of their acquaintance, she was very nice to all his friends and a huge bitch to him.
She sucks her teeth angrily. "He lies a lot."
"No, he doesn't," Renji says, too quickly. He is prepared for this argument. "He doesn't lie, actually. He doesn't answer questions he doesn't think we'll like the answers to. That's not the same as lying. He does that to avoid lying, actually."
"I don't think that makes him somehow fundamentally more honest," Rukia points out.
"I think he does it because he's trying to be kind. I don't think he's got bad intentions towards us, he just doesn't want to think badly of shinigami."
"I think he doesn't want us to back out," Rukia clarifies, "which is stupid, anyway. What are we going to do, go back to Inuzuri?"
Renji is quiet for a moment.
"If we don't have to, that is," Rukia tacks on.
Renji takes a deep breath. "Do you think we do have to go back? If our applications aren't accepted?"
"Probably." It's a mean thing to say. Rukia doesn't know why she's feeling mean toward Renji. She's seen more optimism out of him in the last few days than in the ten years previous. That should make her happy, shouldn't it?
"I bet Mr. Mochida would help us find work permits to stay here in Shiotsuka," Renji decides. "Even if we don't make it into Shin'ou, I think we have enough power to be useful, don't you? This place is way nicer than Inuzuri. I wouldn't mind staying." His eyes take on a faraway look. "Or if we can get good at this horse-trotting thing, maybe we could become messengers or traders. That might be kinda fun. Travel the South Road, see the Rukon."
"Fight off bands of wandering robbers," Rukia says dryly.
"You would love fighting off bands of wandering robbers," Renji points out.
A week ago, Rukia thinks she would have liked the idea of the life of a wandering adventurer very well indeed. But that was before she saw Renji in hakama, Renji with a practice sword in his hand. "You and your contingency plans," she scolds. "Keep your eyes on the prize, Abarai. You heard the man. Gotei or bust."
Renji sets his jaw and his resolve along with it. "Right," he agrees. "Be nicer to Mr. Mochida then, so he helps us as much as possible. I've seen you be very charming to some pretty horrible people. I know you've got it in you."
Rukia sighs, and Renji grins. The things she does for this buffoon.