Author's note: welcome back to school season, motherfuckers. I have no time for anything. Fanfiction more ike fanfUCKING RUINING MY LIFE.
Special thanks to namayani for being my beta because I am honestly embarrassed by how much this chapter needed to be edited before being fit for human consumption.
Also special thanks to my friend Ian for yelling at me to finish this for half an hour.
Around Shuuhei, members of the Ninth Division dart through and across the streets of District Seventy-Five, banging on the rickety doors of shack-like houses and urging the occupants to gather their belongings and leave their homes. The same is happening all around the higher districts, shinigami troops evacuating the citizens of Rukongai from what are now deemed to be "high risk of contamination" areas to the lower district.
Shuuhei herds crowds down the main road, closer to thein the direction of center of Soul Society. "Towards the entrance to District Seventy-Four. That's it. Another troop there will guide you further," he calls, directing them with a wave of his arms and sidestepping around a family of five. The children are crying, the youngest huddled in the arms of the mother.
Bodies move like cattle, the dull hues of their clothes blending together, as colorless and worn out as the people wrapped in them. Resignation is written on their tired faces. Not exactly a good sign if Shuuhei understands their adversary correctly.
A movement like this required careful consideration and forethought. The captains and the Central 46 alike are still debating the best course of action to take against the soul manifestations, weighing the merits and drawbacks of each option available to them. There's are under lot of pressure riding to make the right—or at least the best possible—decision, Shuuhei realizes. This isn't a war, it's an epidemic, an infestation spreading through the Soul Society and nobody wants to be responsible for making a choice that will result in more bloodshed than is necessary.
The dirt streets are getting crowded, calloused bare feet kicking up the dust as the citizens of District Seventy-Five shuffle forward. Shuuhei glances over the top of the throng of people to a fairly solid-looking rooftop, one that appears like it could provide a good view of the procession, and in a flurry of movement and the whoosh of displaced air he flash-steps away from his position in the streets.
His sandals skid on loose roof-tiles, forcing him to adjust his balance to avoid topping over. Looking down, the view he gets isn't a very nice one; a long line of figures dressed in rags, poor, filthy and now homeless, shambling closer to the promised safety of the lower districts as slowly as a funeral procession. An icy strike of doubt pierces Shuuhei's thoughts, a stubborn feeling creeping up his spine that wants him to announce that this is pointless. Even now the next monster could be somewhere in the crowd below him, posed to kill hundreds of innocent people around it before he, or anyone from his squad, has the chance to step in.
His gaze moves towards Seireitei, the center of Soul Society. In the closer districts he can see the black specks of busy soul reapers darting around like flies to guide an even larger trail of people. All districts higher than District Seventy are being cleared, and somewhere in one of those districts is Renji, who seems firmly invested in the idea that the monsters are merely a symptom of a much larger, somehow curable affliction. Shuuhei doesn't doubt that Renji's heart is in the right place, but its concerning to think about what would happen if Renji's pity for the monsters won over his fighting instincts at a wrong time.
An alarmed cry jolts Shuuhei out of his thoughts, his body tensing in preparation for action. The wail is joined by several other, deeper voices, coming from a ways ahead, near the entrance of the next district. Shuuhei flash-steps, skidding over rooftops that crumble and creak underneath him, closing in on the source of the increasingly loud shouting.
A thick ring of bodies hides some sort of a commotion, and they are so absorbed in whatever is happening that not a single one notices his approach. A few of his subordinates are trying to rally the mob back into formation, calling for them to keeping moving and becoming increasingly frustrated when the irate crowd pays them no mind. Within the circle, screaming intensifies to an almost unintelligible uproar—the most understandable thing Shuuhei can glean is a few accusing voices shrieking about "the wretched little thief!"
Not getting a good assessment of the situation from the outside, Shuuhei tries to force his way past the walls of people. He elbows the crowd apart one person at a time, but as he tries to make his way to the center one person protests loudly and swipes a burly arm at the lieutenant. Fortunately, Shuuhei is faster and stronger than the average soul, and with growing crossness he catches his would-be assailant with a grip around his beefy wrist.
The man turns to give Shuuhei a venomous glare, stopping short the moment he sees Shuuhei's uniform and vice-captain's badge.
Shuuhei, on the other hand, doesn't hesitate. "I suggest you keep moving." He scolds, keeping his voice icy. The man and those close enough to notice the shinigami disperse quickly, allowing Shuuhei to finally see the cause of the chaos.
A large man, clutching a misshapen bag of what appears to be food, turns out to be the main source of the noise. He has a broad, unpleasant face with what is presumably a burn scar flaring around his right eye and temple, permanently flushing the skin an angry maroon hue.
"You'll pay for that, you stealing bitch!" His voice is just as unfriendly as his face, even more so when coupled by the furious waving of his fist towards the
young woman standing barely a foot away from him. She looks to be slightly younger than Shuuhei himself, although when it comes to souls that appearances tends to be a very unreliable estimate of age. She's skinny, buried in a ripped-up, man's size coat, the long corners of which she uses to carry a small pile of peaches. One tumbles to the ground when she flinches away from the man's yelling, her motions jerky and rigid like a startled animal.
Shuuhei approaches the woman, igniting a mixed reaction of the crowd, though neither side seems eager to intervene. As he steps into the small circle, he places himself between the man and the woman, a stern glare in his eyes directed at the advancing party.
"We don't have time for petty arguments," Shuuhei says seriously. Arguments turn into fights, and fights escalate into riots, and that's the last thing this emergency situation needs. "I need everyone here to continue to the lower districts. Standing around and getting into screaming matches isn't going to get you to safety any faster, so stop holding everyone else up."
The man with the burns looks affronted by Shuuhei's presence, to Shuuhei's utter lack of surprise. He looks to be the sort that doesn't particularly like soul reapers, or being interrupted for that matter. Red-faced with outrage, he points an accusing finger at the woman behind Shuuhei. "That little scavenger just stole my food and you want me to just ignore her? Since when did shinigami protect street-rat criminals?"
The woman's voice trembles when she responds, and her eyes are wide like she's in shock. "Please, this food is for my brother! He's starving, and we have no money… You have plenty more, just let me take this!"
"Yeah, where is this 'brother' of yours, girl?" the man scoffs. "Did a supposedly starving man already get to the lower districts before you, or did you leave him behind on his own?"
At this she stammers. "Um, w-well…" she blinks, dazedly, like she's only just aware of her surroundings. She looks around, eyes scanning the faces of the crowd but registering nothing. "He was here a minute ago. He must have already gone ahead…"
"You're a liar-" the man hollers, trying to close in on the woman. Shuuhei block his advance giving him a rough shove and sending the man stumbling backwards.
"I'm not going to repeat myself. Get moving. Now," Shuuhei commands, his hand moving threateningly towards the hilt of his zanpakuto. He would never use his sword on a living soul if he could help it, and he's especially not going to use it in this kind of situation. The man, however, doesn't know that and the threat/motion succeeds in getting him to back off, even though he does so with a fair amount of cursing and insults about corrupt, tyrannical shinigami and a sour look back at the young woman.
The rest of the crowd disperses, calmed by the diffusion of a potentially violent situation. They shuffle onwards, as if the interruption had never occurred and trickle down the road around Shuuhei.
The woman shakes herself out of her stupor, crouching down to reclaim the peach she dropped. One person moving with the flow of travelers coming from behind her carelessly bumps into her small frame, causing her arm to jerk violently. She drops the rest of her ill-gotten goods onto the ground where a few get squashed into a sticky past under bare feet.
Her bony hand scrabbles against the ground for the fruit, dropping them back into her makeshift coat-pouch. She doesn't notice Shuuhei coming towards her, nor his shadow looming over her and blotting out the sunlight over her head until he stoops down next to her and offers her his hand.
"Are you alright?" he asks, finally attracting her attention. Still, she doesn't accept his his offer to help her to her feet until she's collected what remains of the peaches.
Up close, Shuuhei can't say she's exactly pretty, at least certainly not by conventional standards. Aside from being on the petite side she isn't very visually interesting, with a plain face that promises to be easily forgettable. After a few moments, she finally allows Shuuhei to hoist her to her feet, not bothering to brush the dirt off her clothes.
"Thank you," she says quietly, eyes downcast to the ground. "I didn't mean to cause a scene. You didn't have to step in like that."
"It wasn't any trouble. But I wouldn't recommend stealing food in the future, stunts like that can get you into a lot of trouble with people much worse," Shuuhei chastises, speaking from his own experience. He feels a bit like a hypocrite for scolding her, as he knows just how hard it can be to come by food in the scummier districts. He's stolen his fair share of food, too, albeit as a child he had been a tad too easily spooked to rob the kind of guy she did. Now he just implies a physical threat and they run away. It's funny how it all works out.
Oblivious to Shuuhei's thoughts or origin story, the woman shifts the bundle of fruit in her arms, looking slightly offended by Shuuhei's morality lesson. "I would never have done anything like that if it hadn't been asked of me. My family is very poor, and now that we have to leave our possessions behind, we have nothing to sell in exchange for food."
Shuuhei is very tempted to feed her the typical "I'm sorry for your misfortune" line and move on. As someone who still has an actual job to do, that would probably be the appropriate response. But this woman sounds so hopeless, Shuuhei wants to give her some kind of reassurance that things will turn up.
"That will change when you reach the lower districts," Shuuhei assures her, trying to sound sincere. "Trust me, things will be better there than they ever were here. You'll settle in soon enough and, more importantly, you'll be safer."
At least until whatever district you're reassigned to swells in population from having too many people stuffed into it, becoming overcrowded and thus causing gods know what kind of complications for the inhabitants, but Shuuhei wisely chooses not to share this part with her.
"It doesn't matter to me one way or the other. It still doesn't change the fact that I have to take other people's food. I used to hate the idea of stealing," the woman's voice turns bitter, and Shuuhei truly believes this is a person who once had a powerful moral code she has been forced to abandon, "but like I told that awful man, with my daughter starving I'm all out of other options."
Shuuhei's brain cycles back through the incident with the unpleasant man. "Your daughter? Is she with your brother?"
The woman finally raises her eyes to give Shuuhei a confused look, brows crinkled with misunderstanding. "Excuse me?"
"You said your brother is the one who is hungry. Are they together if they aren't with you?" Shuuhei elaborates, eyes glancing over the the people shuffling around them as if the woman might point out a relative sharing her small figure and ordinary features.
"Oh, no just my brother. I mean, that's what I meant to say." The woman shakes her head, looking slightly mortified by her mistake. "I apologize, I misspoke. I don't know why I said that."
It's a rather odd slip-up to make out of nowhere. Shuuhei gives the woman a quick once over— she doesn't seem ill enough to be delirious, but she's clearly tired, hungry, and stressed. "Miss, are you sure you're alri-"
Before he can finish the woman glances over his shoulder, eyes widening in surprise. "The line just stopped. Has something happened?"
"What?" Shuuhei turns, fully expecting to see the continuing flow marching down the road, and therefore a little perturbed when instead he is faced with a very solid, very unmoving collection of people.
Unlike during the small altercation before, there's no yelling and screaming. Everyone just seems to be complacently waiting around, a little befuddled by the sudden stop in motion. Aside from a few vocal complaints, Shuuhei can't pick up any emotional outbursts from this crowd. They're all just standing around, as if waiting in line for some large-scale event.
"Again?" Shuuhei refrains from groaning to himself, taking himself to the rooftops a second time to get a better look at whatever's causing the commotion. From a fairly tall and relatively safe structure, Shuuhei marvels at the unmitigated chaos below him.
Clearly, fortune is not smiling on the well-meaning evacuation efforts of the Gotei's finest. The halt previous halt in traffic had been one thing, but this–this is a massive build-up of people. It stretches for miles, past the open west entrance into District Seventy-Four. Treading across rooftops, Shuuhei follows the progression of the refugees to where it has been blocked by something farther ahead.
The district is not that different from the Seventy-Fifth, rows after rows of abandoned buildings, the entire population clustered together in the streets, frozen by some force ahead. Further and further, past District Seventy-Three, Seventy-Two, Seventy-One… Finally, where the districts drop from the seventies into the sixties, Shuuhei sees what's holding everyone up.
It gives the impression, Shuuhei realizes, of an amateur barricade. A barrier of carts, heavy-duty ones that one might expect to see carrying large goods across districts, clumsily piled together on top of each other as if swept up in a tornado and suddenly dropped all in one place. Huge, thick burlap bags adding weight to the make-shift structure, standing against those trying to push through it. Behind the blockade, occupants of the Sixty-Ninth District hoist more and more weight onto the carts, seemingly entirely unsympathetic to the attempts of those on the other side.
Shuuhei scans the area for the shinigami assigned to this section of the evacuation route, displeased with the fact that this was allowed to happen. Preventing issues such as this is one of the reasons why they had officers assigned to help the evacuation in the first place!
There, Shuuhei spots the black shihakusho of his fellow shinigami, and even from a distance he can tell from their spiritual pressure that those are some familiar black spots. They are rather distinctive personalities, after all.
He can see Iba coming towards the barrier and shooing the people on the defending side away and ordering his re-enforcements to tear the barricade down, much to the protests of those working to build it. Not far away, Shuuhei can register Ikkaku screaming at someone who must be spearheading the creation of the blockade, because that someone appears to be arguing right back. Shuuhei decides to intervene when he notices Ikkaku's hands curling into fists.
Shuuhei flash-steps onto the scene, re-materializing at a safe distance between Iba and Ikkaku, successfully drawing the latter's attention away from frustrating civilians.
"Having trouble?" Shuuhei suggests, gesturing to the pile-up.
Ikkaku rolls his eyes with a sneer, which Shuuhei suspects is the third-seat's knee-jerk reaction to any implication of him having difficulty with something. He casually grabs the man he was just yelling at by the front of his yukata, presenting him as one might present a noxious dead animal carcass. "Just perfect, thanks for asking. We were doing just fine in the higher districts till we noticed these assholes blocking the roads. Why don't you ask this guy what's up? I'm sure he'd love to explain."
The guy, who looks far too young to be organizing inter-district mayhem, sputters at Ikkaku's manhandling. "It's not our fault! You shinigami wouldn't listen to us, so this is the only way. Let go!"
He struggles, but Ikkaku's grip is vice-like, and his voice is full of anger. "The fuck do you mean 'only way'? Only way to get people killed?"
"There's no room for refugees!" the guy insists, squirming uselessly against the bald soul-reaper's hold. "Not enough water, either. Pack people from another district in here, and we'll die of thirst! Do you just expect us to wait around to die?"
"You're not going to be waiting long if you don't get this thing out of the way," Ikkaku promises, swinging an arm towards the barrier. "Either move this pile of junk, or we'll move it for you!"
"Better do it soon," Iba advises, heaving a few sandbags off the structure with a grunt. "The longer this is up, the longer it's gonna take to get people through. The others are going to notice and come investigating any minute now."
With a quick scan of reiatsu, Shuuhei confirms that more soul reapers are picking and prodding at the area with their spiritual energy, wondering what's going on. A few of them are strong enough to be lieutenants. Shuuhei can't help but hope that Renji isn't among them— he really doesn't want to give the redhead any more reasons to stress over the safety of the civilians. So yeah not seeing
Renji right now would be really great, second only to not seeing Izuru, the other lieutenant Shuuhei wouldn't be jazzed to see right about now.
"There's danger in the higher districts, and if these people stay out there bad things will happen and those bad things will also result in your death. The Seireitei is doing everything it can to see that your the districts will be well supplied. So take this thing down. Now." Shuuhei explains sternly. Because who cares if he personally doesn't agree with the evacuation plan? Who cares if the Seireitei's done so very little to help out the Rukongai before, Shuuhei has a hard time imagining how they will now? Because surely there's a plan already, right? There must be, and maybe he's just not getting it yet.
and with the confirmation of two vice-captains the unranked officers tear down the barricade piece by piece, shouldering the protesting civilians out of the way. The sandbags are the first to go, and Shuuhei picks a few up to help the others toss them. They're heavier than they look, the rough material of the bags scratching up the pads of his fingers.
Finally, they're able to push the carts aside, allowing refugees past and into the district. Shuuhei wipes beads of sweat off his forehead and looks into the thankfully now-moving crowd, wondering how long he'll have to wait before he can recognize any faces from the Seventy-Fifth to gauge their progress.
Iba sets himself next to Shuuhei, leaning against one of the dislodged carts and stretching. "At least that's over. Geez, you'd think some people would have more useful things to do than cause more trouble than there already is, wouldn't ya?"
Shuuhei shrugs nonchalantly. He doesn't feel like sharing the fact that a part of him feels this whole procedure is in itself causing more trouble than their already is. The protesters weren't being irrational in their fears of starvation and overpopulation. "Nothing like this has ever really happened before. They're scared, on the verge of panic, even. Right? At the very least they're easily suggestible, so as long as we can keep everyone in line they probably won't cause more problems."
"No more problems as long as a destructive, soul-absorbing monster doesn't appear. And that's only provided it shows up somewhere we can find it, seeing as we can't sense the damn things." Iba scoffs, face turning in a slight scowl.
"Worst-case scenario." Shuuhei admits with a shrug.
Ikkaku gives the cart closest to him one final kick before deciding it would serve a greater use as a seat, plopping down with his elbows across his knees. "Honestly, I'd take a monster attack right now over playing babysitter to this bunch. I get enough of that in my own squad."
"Yeah, and while you're off having fun fighting the thing, how many innocent people are getting turned into even more freaks and ripping up Soul Society?" Iba points out. "As far as I'm concerned, having no monsters is better than the alternative."
"Hey, this ain't my first time in Rukongai. If these… whatever they are- if they feed on apathy or passiveness or such shit, then they're going to show up here eventually and there's no stopping it. It's just a matter of when, and then everyone's just gonna get pissed when they realize that this-," he gestures at the continuing flow of refugees into the district, "-was only temporary anyways."
Shuuhei quirks a brow, a little surprised that he's not the only one with such a negative outlook on the current plan. "You don't think there's a way to prevent the monsters from manifesting at all?"
"Do you?" Ikkaku fires back, looking very matter-of-fact about it. "C'mon, Hisagi. You grew up in these kinds of districts, right? You know that nobody gives a fuck about what happens out here."
"It… it does seem that way. This entire evacuation gives the impression that the Gotei is just trying to buy time. But at the same time I can't exactly blame everyone for wanting to try and protect as many people as possible," Shuuhei admits, trying to look at both sides evenly. Before he can stop himself, he adds: "I think Renji's especially troubled about it, considering the incident he was involved in. I'm concerned about him." He curses himself the moment he says it, because even the rather neutral statement feels way too personal out loud. He suddenly feels over-protective and over-invested, the doting caretaker of Renji's dumb issues. Shuuhei tries to act like he isn't feeling a sudden rush of heat to his face, like he can blot out the sound of Ikkaku snorting and then trying to cover it with a cough, like he doesn't feel Iba's pity washing over him, unhindered by the man's shades covering up his expressions .
It takes a minute for Shuuhei to bring himself back out of his own head, and for him to notice the low, distant rumbling gradually growing in his ears. Refocusing, Shuuhei turns his head in the direction of the noise, a deep roar like an earthquake coming from way back in one of the distracts he passed through. "Do you hear that-?"
Another rumble, louder this time. A deep, low, unnatural sound that makes Shuuhei's ears ache and his chest tighten. This time it doesn't grab only Shuuhei's attention—other shinigami and Rukongai citizens alike turn their heads in the direction of the noise in an eerie synchrony, alarmed expressions on their faces.
"You might wish for a monster attack might come true, after all. Hope you're happy," Iba elbows Ikkaku roughly, his voice uncomfortably sardonic.
Ikkaku answers with a sharp laugh, already drawing out his sword. "Now this is more my speed! Let's get down there before someone else gets to it first."
With that, he flashsteps off in a whirl of wind before Shuuhei can warn him to be careful—these things are stronger than they look. Iba vanishes right after the eager the third seat, and Shuuhei has little choice but to follow.
He comes to a halt at the scene of the damage, with the gradual location that this place is not unfamiliar to him. Well, as far as he can tell. The changes that have taken place since is relatively recent departure are shockingly drastic.
Shuuhei slips off the roof's ledge, tiles coming out under his feet, to land on the ground below. Landing is a little trickier than he initially anticipated, considering the debris scattered across the road. A row of houses has been spilled onto the streets like something literally swept right through them.
Shuuhei kicks part of a wall out of his way, wary of the remaining structures that are still standing. He's fully prepared for a monster to burst out of hiding at any moment, the way it did when he was investigating with his captain. "I knew these things could do massive damage, but I didn't think it could cause a wreckage like this so fast."
"That in mind, I've got a new question for you, Mr. Monster Expert." Ikkaku's voice sounds out, and Shuuhei looks over to see him flash-step close enough to the destroyed houses to peer in suspiciously. "Where's the monster that did it?"
Shuuhei spots Iba a few paces ahead, climbing over a shambled section of stone wall to look over the rest of the street. "Here's an even better question- where's everyone else? I don't see any refugees around here."
"It's just like when the first monster appeared. People had already been absorbed in order for the creature to take it's inhuman form," Shuuhei recounts, thinking back to all the things he's learned about the monsters since he first killed one. "Which means that everyone here who hadn't been evacuated yet has been…"
"All blended together in the monster like a big soul smoothie. Well that's just gonna look great on a report. Can we just focus on finding this thing and killing it?" Ikkaku volunteers dryly, looking across the damaged neighborhood with a serious look.
Something flickers in the corner of Shuuhei's senses, like a stray breeze drifting through a window, gradually growing stronger and stronger. Two familiar spiritual pressures rapidly approach, no doubt having heard/sensed? the destruction from the north or south sides of Rukongai. And he doesn't know whether it's because he's used to the specific spiritual energy or because he's looking for it with an almost paranoid anticipation, but Shuuhei can almost instantly tell one of them is Renji. A few moments later he realizes the accompanying presence is Rukia from the ivory glow of her reiatsu.
Rukia is the first to arrive, her sudden appearance kicking up dirt and smaller bits of debris in the wind. Renji is not even a second behind her, landing on what seems to be the shattered fragments of a support beam that crunch under his feet. From the looks of surprise on both their faces, Shuuhei assumes this is a rather isolated incident. Neither of them look like they've been roughed up in a fight as of late. Shuuhei has at least that much to be grateful for.
"Lemme guess- it was like this when you got here." Renji says to the three already present soul reapers, though he glances at Shuuhei first and foremost. It's a small thing that shouldn't give Shuuhei a rush of both affection and anxiety.
Rukia, wisely choosing to ignore her companion's comment, surveys the scene around them. "What happened here? Did another monster appear?"
"We think so, yes. We just arrived here ourselves from a few districts inwards, and by the time we got here it was already gone." Shuuhei answers, feeling a little disheartened to admit they weren't fast enough to catch the thing. "But it could still be around. The one that attacked me and Captain Mugumura caught us by surprise, and I wouldn't recommend the experience to anybody else."
"Then there's nothing else to do but start looking for it, is there?" Renji suggests. Maybe it's another symptom of Shuuhei's overly-paranoid state, but he worries about something in Renji's voice that sounds a tad too much like reluctance.
And with that, a monster hunt begins.