Chapter 12: The War Room
The flame gnawed on the last threads of the worn wick. The once effulgent yellow light darkened and attenuated until only an ember remained. A sad little spark snapped at the last bit of cotton before dying.
Hisana peeled open the lantern's miniature door and replaced the candle. Plucking a matchstick from a box, she flicked her wrist and struck the match's head against a piece of sandpaper. Carefully, she guided the nascent flame to the candle, and, within a few moments, the cotton wick caught fire.
A plume of pungent-smelling phosphorous infused the stale air. Helplessly, Hisana waved her arm through the grey cloud. It was futile, she groused to herself. But, at least, she felt like she had accomplished something even if that something was mindlessly flinging her arm back and forth.
Somewhere in the midst of her graceless motions, she glimpsed Kaien in the corner of her eye. Despite the warm lantern light, stubborn shade continued to dance across Kaien's determined visage, keeping time with the flame's playful flickering. Dark shadows hooded his eyes as he scoured the map of Soul Society, exaggerating his already tense expression.
He had been hunched over that weathered paper for the better part of an hour, Hisana noted to herself, feeling a pang of pity.
He was lost—tangled in thoughts of battle strategy and perspicacious designs. She knew because, days prior, she had been similarly occupied.
Silently, she lowered her head and prayed that Kaien could unravel the secrets locked in the map's parchment better than she had.
Her gaze drifted to the floor. A strong sense of hopelessness began to eat at her consciousness. Tenacity, however, distracted her. 'Where are the others?' an intrepid voice sounded in her head. She crossed her arms in front of her and turned toward the door. She and Kaien were the only souls in what felt like miles. The War Room was soundproofed; thick stony walls and concrete kept the life beyond that room at bay.
Gin had gone to the Fifth to "tie up loose ends," whatever that meant. Ichimaru's voice had been insinuatingly dark as had been his look. His oily words conjured a lurid picture of him tying nooses and stringing up intransigent subordinates.
She shuddered at the thought then, and, again, as his words emerged in her head and echoed in her ears.
Byakuya had disappeared shortly after walking her from the reiatsu chamber to the antechamber. No reason. No explanation. She did not recall when it happened. She turned back, and he was gone.
Kaien had been polite enough to escort her to the Fourth, where she quickly changed and packed provisions for the long journey.
"Almost five districts a day," Kaien murmured to himself, tracing a line from Seireitei to the 67th Rukon district. His eyes narrowed as he studied the lines marking the boundaries of each district. Hisana could almost see the thoughts spinning in his head; he was in the midst of calculating solutions that only spawned more problems.
Questions that only begged more questions.
A thousand yard stare glazed his eyes, and she knew he was lost in the vicious maze of "what ifs." Not even Kaien's astute mind could see into the future no matter how hard he tried.
Taking mercy on his poor wracked brain, Hisana quirked a brow and said, in her drollest tone, "Five districts, eh?" She smirked at him, and her smirk seemed to exclaim, 'Only five districts? Who are we kidding?'
And, who were they kidding?
Five districts a day on foot with no flash-step was going to be brutal, and the difficulty of traversing the land would only increase as they advanced into Rukongai. The districts became more sprawling toward the 80th, the earth grew less forgiving, and the populace more bloodthirsty and ravenous. Navigating the first 40 districts would be relatively easy. The last 27? That would test their courage, wits, and skill.
Kaien inclined his head. A touch of humanity dimmed the intensity illuminating his eyes and smoothed the bend in his brow. "Easy, right?" he said—his voice low and sardonic.
She smiled, hoping the gesture would warm her heart and unravel the melancholia that permeated her brain. It did not. Her stubborn emotions continued to pluck a sad chord on her heartstrings.
Breaking his gaze, Kaien turned to the empty table and asked, "Where are the others?"
"I don't know." She surveyed the room with a quick glance. 'Good question.' At least two hours had passed in that dark chamber. Gin could have tied his loose ends into Gordian knots by then.
'Byakuya…' Her heart sank, and her jaw clenched. She didn't know what to make of his sudden disappearance.
"Let's go to the gate," Kaien murmured more so to himself than to her. "They will figure it out." His voice dipped an octave on the "they," as did the corners of his lips.
Hisana shook her head. "I have to wait." Her voice was thin and faint, broken almost, as she spoke, but her features refused to reveal the maelstrom that churned deep in the pit of her stomach.
Kaien blinked, uncomprehending her meaning. 'What does that mean?' seemingly flashed across his face right before realization came plummeting down on him like an anvil to the head.
How could he have been so preoccupied? Of course, she could not leave just then. She had not yet received the vambrace.
Hisana shivered imperceptibly under his gaze, sensing the light of recognition spark in his brain.
She had only a handful of moments left as a free woman. Seconds, heavy and cruel, ticked by, and, with each pass of the pendulum, Hisana became increasingly aware of her own mortality. She knew the end was closing in on her. Fate's dark fingers were reaching for her soul, and she was powerless to stop it.
"You nervous?" Kaien asked, astutely reading her expression.
With a shake of her head, Hisana rinsed the grief from her face. "I am well." Her words, tremulous and thready, sank in the air.
Not that her feelings mattered.
She could have spun a lovely response and sported the most radiant of smiles, and her companion would have pierced her veil of lies with a single glance. Kaien had a nasty ability of stripping the artifice from her façade. The diplomacy that she brandished like a weapon shattered against his penetrating stare. He saw a lot more than he was willing to admit, but he was polite enough to bite his tongue and swallow his words for the sake of her dignity.
"So, what if that relic rejects you?" his tone was surprisingly conversational, catching her off guard.
She blinked, and the light in her eyes went broadcast and diffuse. She had no idea how to respond. What had he meant to convey with that question? "Oh?" she managed, confused.
Kaien's brows rose. "Yeah. Maybe the relic is volatile?" he reasoned as he leaned his hip against the table and folded his arms tightly across his chest.
Her lips split and stretched into a smile. "Maybe it is." The idea teased her, brightening her mood with its whimsy. "I guess you three will be escorting another healer, then," she said with a wolfish grin.
Kaien chuckled. "I see how it is," he began, pretending to sound hurt, "You get the pass."
"I suppose that is only fair," she retorted slyly, "The preparations, themselves, have shaved millennia off my life."
Fashioning a look of righteous indignation, Kaien quickly snapped out, "So you are saying you earned your reprieve, and we have not?"
She lifted her arm to shield her broad smile with her sleeve, but she nodded her reply. "I think that is what I just said."
He gave a slow headshake of disapproval. "I see how it is. Cast us to the wolves, then."
Crash.
The sound of the door slamming against the wall cut their through their badinage, startling both Hisana and Kaien. "Vice Captain of the Fourth, come!" The voice was sharp and booming, like a thunderclap, and it resonated from the Second's Vice Captain.
"Yes," Hisana said, bowing politely.
For a moment, she forgot what was next. Her legs hesitated, and her heart went jittery inside her chest. Frozen, she stared at the Second's Vice Captain, looking for answers. That proved to be less than effective for he stared vacuously back at her. 'Move,' her inner voice commanded her, and she obeyed, taking small apprehensive steps toward the door.
Just before reaching the threshold, she turned to look back at Kaien. The white light emanating from the corridor cast a blinding halo around her small form. "Thank you, Vice Captain Shiba," she murmured and bowed low.
His kind words had offered her respite from the storm raging in her head. Silently, her heart filled with gratitude, and she wished that she could find a way to repay him for his kindness.
Kaien watched her departure with equal measures of horror and disbelief. He knew what was going to happen next. He had prepared for the mission, trained futilely to ensure its success, but it felt surreal to watch her leave, knowing that soon she would return transformed. Incomplete. Dying.
Instinctively, he turned toward the parcel Unohana had offered him. It lay hidden in his own supplies. Deep in the bottom of his bag. Deep where no one but he could find it. It was a dark secret—one that would be unveiled only when the timing was right.
"Good afternoon, Vice Captain Shiba," this time it was a woman's small voice pulling at the strings of his mind and shattering his concentration, "please, follow me."
He crossed the floor to the door. "Where are we going?" he asked, bracing himself for her reply.
She responded with a cryptic, "To meet with the others."
The questions flashing across his visage were answered when she led him to a small chamber. It was small and sterile—like all the other rooms. Upon crossing the threshold, however, Kaien stopped short. Gin Ichimaru stood a few meters away.
"Good afternoon, Vice Captain Shiba!" Gin greeted through his eldritch grin.
Kaien nodded his head and reciprocated the pleasantry, "Good afternoon, Vice Captain Ichimaru." The words may have filled his mouth, but they did not reach his heart, and they did not warm his countenance.
Gin turned to the nameless female Shinigami. "So we're gonna watch?" While Gin fashioned the words in the form of a question, Kaien was sure he had meant it to be a declaration. The Fifth's Vice Captain sounded too delighted at the prospect of watching the relic synchronize with its host.
"Indeed!" If possible, Gin's perverse enthusiasm was quickly matched if not bested.
Kaien turned to find the Captain of the Twelfth hovering outside the door. "Such a rare treat, you should feel privileged," he added as he and several of his subordinates descended upon the room like a pack of vicious wolves.
Kaien had a sinking feeling that the Twelfth's presence from earlier in the day signaled more than mere duty. Mayuri was a ruthlessly enterprising individual; he would not spare his squad members out of a sense of obligation, but he would send his men if he thought it meant he could extract data.
Kaien's lips sloped down at the thought of Hisana as a mere data point. No wonder Byakuya had conveniently slipped away. Kaien's expression hardened at the mere thought of Byakuya, who was so oft to know convenient details and bail when the situation took a turn for the worse.
'Brat,' Kaien thought ruefully to himself.
"Now, now, now," Mayuri called in a high-pitched whine, "we have all the data from the machines collected and sent back to the Twelfth?"
His Vice Captain piped up with an obsequious, "Yes, Captain."
"Good," he said before flying off into some strange biomedical jargon that Kaien could hardly follow even if he had been of a mind to understand.
Blocking out Mayuri's psychobabble, Kaien trained his gaze on the door, wondering whether Byakuya was going to make an appearance. 'Self-indulgent brat,' he sighed. Perhaps his sudden anger—honed from years of witnessing the young noble's century-long reign of self-entitled, reckless conceit—was irrational, but Kaien felt true animosity toward the newly anointed Vice Captain. 'Why isn't Byakuya here?' he wondered. Gin Ichimaru was there. He was there. So, where in the hell was the better-than-thou, captious-tongued scion of the ancient noble family?
Kaien's mind lingered on the question, scrutinizing every syllable and character, until indignation gave way to fuming and fuming turned into….
The roar of unoiled hinges tore through room, interrupting Kaien's internal harangue, Mayuri's clipped orders, and Gin's perpetual smile. Seemingly and all at once, heads snapped to the side and eyes fixed on the large double doors.
"How exciting," Gin stated drily as the door swung back to reveal the captains and their subordinates.
. . . .
"Are you certain this is legal?"
Byakuya ignored the servant's question. His thoughts and hands were preoccupied with other, more important matters, and, he had already done the mental gymnastics necessary to overcome the legal hurdles, but, to be frank, no, he was not certain that what he was doing was legal, strictly speaking. In fact, if pressed to wager a guess, he would have bet a sizable portion of his personal finances on the fact that what he was doing was very much against some reading of some rule written in some book some many years ago. But, any attempt to apply those rules, he was convinced, would have amounted to mere obiter dictum. Nothing applied directly to the facts of the case at hand. Of this, he was certain. He was prepared to argue his point in front of the Central 46 if need be.
Despite the servant's question (which he repeated at varying intervals) and the sinking feeling that what he was doing was wrong, Byakuya continued to rummage through millennia worth of priceless arcana housed in the Shihōin estate.
He had spent considerable effort to gain access to the Shihōin compound, and that was the easy part. Once inside the estate, Byakuya had to navigate the manor's labyrinthine corridors. His reward? A highly complex seal.
He was not turning back now.
"Sir, the hour grows dark. Are you sure you can spare the time?" the servant's voice, rich and refined, rustled in Byakuya's ears, needling him. Byakuya could tell the wizened man was becoming increasingly concerned with Byakuya's purpose, but he would not submit to idle implications.
Undeterred, Byakuya withdrew a small parcel, hidden in the back of a shelf. "Just a few more moments," he murmured.
. . . .
Hisana waited in an uncomfortable steel-framed chair. She felt so small and feeble in the room. So many questions rang through her mind. And, if it wasn't questions keeping her on edge, it was the excruciating pain rattling around her bones, licking at her muscles, and searing her fragile nerves. Pain besieged her, stole her breath, and stopped her heart.
With each stroke of the clock's secondhand, it became increasingly harder for her to sit there, waiting for her fate to be sealed. She felt like an animal captured in a cleverly designed snare, helpless to do anything but struggling nonetheless.
When the door swung back, however, her back went ramrod straight, and she was sure her heart had dislodged from her chest and flew into her throat. All she could hear was the sound of blood rushing through her ears. The whooshing noise obscured the foot soldier's voice, but she understood the order all the same. Immediately, she jumped to her feet and stepped across the threshold, only a step off the unseated officer's pace.
Entering the next chamber, Hisana halted. Her muscles locked her knees before her brain had the chance to catch up. Horror sank her heart and burned her skin as if a pyre had been set aflame beneath her flesh. She had prepared herself for the pain, shock, and fear of synchronization to the relic. She, however, had not anticipated an audience.
Yet, there they were. The Captains and Vice Captains were standing in the usual configuration. The odds and evens faced one another. Kaien, Gin, and Byakuya stood behind their respective captains. All appeared appropriately sober except for Gin, who was smiling.
Hisana's eyes went to Byakuya first. It was instinctual, muscle memory to turn to him.
He stared back at her. His patented expression of apathy had broken. When, exactly? She did not know. She saw the shattered pieces of his noble indifference. Around the mask's sharp fractured edges, there was a raw look of worry. Concern pooled in his grey eyes, hollowed his cheeks, and creased his brow. His muscles tightened; his jaw clenched; and, his body shifted forward stiffly. He looked ready to spring forward at any moment, but his mental restraints held fast.
Her lips quivered, and her heart seized in her chest. A could thunk sent ripples across her body. She felt so useless, so impotent. He was too far away. Too far beyond her grasp.
Unable to muster a gentle look to assuage his conflicted mind, her gaze quickly diverted to Kaien, who looked no better. An uneasy expression colored his features and radiated from his blue eyes. He did not want to be there, and he certainly did not want to be among an audience to witness her weakest hour. He shifted his weight from one leg to another as a silent protest.
"Vice Captain Hisana," the woman's soft voice pulled her attention before she had the chance to find Gin Ichimaru in the sea of black and white uniforms.
Turning to the sound of the voice, Hisana's eyes met an unfamiliar face. The woman, who stood in front of the golden case that housed the vambrace, did not don the standard Shihakushō. No, she was not a Shinigami, Hisana quickly realized. She was a noblewoman, and, judging from the kamon on her breast, she hailed from the Shihōin clan.
Gracefully, the woman unclasped the golden case and lifted the top. Her hands dipped into the box, and she withdrew the relic. She extended her unburdened hand to Hisana. "Vice Captain," she said softly, beseeching her to comply with a gentle look.
Soundlessly, Hisana lifted her arm, tilting it back so that the sleeve of her kimono fell back. Her arm was delicate and small. The dim overhead light shimmered against her milky flesh.
The noblewoman gently wrapped her fingers around Hisana's wrist and turned her arm up, revealing the tender inside of her forearm. "I will introduce the relic," the woman said resolutely as she brought the vambrace closer.
Nearing Hisana's arm, the instrument immediately sprang to life with a sharp hiss. Its piercers rotated in small circular motions just as they had when Hisana first encountered the peculiar device.
"The relic reacts to the healer," the noblewoman explained as if she was a magician who was preparing the audience for an illusion. "I will now fasten the relic to the healer."
Hisana tensed. It was instinctual but instant. Her heart throbbed inside her chest, and adrenalin saturated her bloodstream before imbuing her tired muscles. She turned her head and winced as soon as she felt the cold metal edges of the vambrace graze her skin. Her stomach tightened, and her eyes snapped open the moment the thick piercers penetrated her arm.
The pain was blinding. Darkness blanketed her eyes, and her breath hitched, cold, in her chest. It felt as if her body had been set ablaze. Her blood boiled in her veins, searing her skin and organs. Her neurons screamed out, sending signals of agony to her brain. She braced herself, fighting through the disequilibrium that tugged at her center of gravity. Gracelessly, she took a quick step forward, sparing her a fall to her knee. Her rebounding foot caught her, but her muscles threatened to buckle at any moment. She felt leaden and weak. She felt stripped to the bone. She felt worthless.
Byakuya started the moment he saw her struggle, but Ginrei's cool stare shackled Byakuya's eagerness, staying him. Byakuya's wild gaze cried out to Hisana, but she was nonresponsive. She stared ahead, unseeingly.
Satisfied with his grandson's compliance, Ginrei's back straightened, and he lifted his head. His blue eyes cleared until nothing emanated from his gaze. No reproachful scorn. No censoriousness. No anger. Just a piercing all-seeing stare.
Hisana continued to struggle to retain her composure. With open frantic eyes, she searched to find her sight, but the instrument had thrown her into such inky depths that no light dared to spark in her field of vision. Agony, fresh and mounting, painted her mind's inner landscape in shades of blacks and greys. The darkness swirled and crashed; its cold grasp enveloped her arm, and it pulled her down. She couldn't fight the darkness, and she could not break its disorienting clasp on her. Its grip was too tight, too biting, too powerful. It cut the strings of her nerves, severed her tendons, and sliced through her muscles.
She faltered before breaking completely.
Hisana's descent was short-lived. She never met the cold harsh floor. She never felt the sting of gravity. A quick foot and steady arm spared her from the impact.
Ginrei's icy tethers had been easy enough to break, and, once the links shattered, Byakuya was across the floor and cradling her tenderly against his chest. In a swift unbroken motion, he swept her up and stood.
She was so fragile—so painfully weightless—in his arms. Her body was brittle, like dried wood, and the vitality that coursed through her began to subside. Drop by drop, he could feel each and every ounce of reiatsu that she bled, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
It had been a long time since he so plainly expressed his grief. But, then, in that chamber and before the council of captains, the thick walls that he devised to shield his feelings began to disintegrate until only ashy remnants remained. Lugubriously, he found his nerve, his repose, and he glanced up into the faceless mass assembled in the room. Faceless except for one. The one soul that his mind, in its sorrow, sought out and unveiled—his own flesh and blood.
It had been a mistake.
Ginrei watched Byakuya with great displeasure. His gaze hardened, and the fluttering of his ivory-colored captain's robe signaled his contempt for Byakuya's actions loud and clear. If there had been time or if they had been afforded privacy, Ginrei would have excoriated his grandson for his reckless abandon. It was unbecoming for a noble to show emotions or affections in the public sphere. It was unbecoming of a Shinigami to disobey his superior's implicit commands. But, it wasn't just Byakuya's excessive effusiveness that goaded Ginrei. That was bad enough, and, that, he could forgive; it could be written off as youthful callow. It was the source of Byakuya's overt affections that truly drew Ginrei's ire. Byakuya had made a contract—a promise, and he had received a sizable consideration in return for his word. He was engaged to an appropriate woman, true, but he was not disposed. Ginrei wanted him disposed. The contract demanded it.
Byakuya's well practiced indifference washed away all but the silvery gleam in his eye. He knew exactly what his grandfather thought of him in that instant, and, for a heartbeat, he did not care. He was willful. He always had been; he always would be. No matter how much he ignored the fire burning in his heart, it would continue to burn. It was his nature—the same nature that poked him like a hot iron into sparing her an unwarranted disgrace. He refused to let her crumble to the floor in a heap. She deserved more. Her sacrifice was great, and she deserved his respect and consideration.
She deserved so much more, he thought somberly to himself as he peered down at her.
Her skin went pallor. The color drained from her cheeks, and the life faded from her countenance. She was motionless, seemingly frozen in time.
Oblivious to the sudden commotion, the Shihōin clan member read a small gauge affixed to the side of the brace's golden container. "The synchronization has begun," she stated, her voice clear and disaffected. Her gaze was glued to the small black pointer as it swung to numbers. "10%," she said. A few tense moments passed before her voice cut through the stifling silence, "20%."
Feeling the presence of another, Byakuya lifted his head to find Kaien standing at his side. Gin was slower to emerge from his position behind Aizen. Standing as a unified front, the three waited.
Kaien bent his head toward Hisana. Her reiatsu had disappeared, and she rested motionless. Not a single muscle contacted. Not even to draw breath.
"50%."
"Is she breathing?" Kaien asked, his question low and clipped. Worry clouded his face, creasing his forehead and darkening his eyes.
Byakuya did not answer. He couldn't answer. The words carved into his brain, his terribly logical brain, did not find their way to his tongue. His chest squelched them. His throat tightened and parched, ensuring they would never emerge. The words, however, ricocheted in his chest, slicing his heart and penetrating his veins. The words may not have escaped his lips, but he felt their weight acutely.
She wasn't breathing. Everything went static inside her. Her chest was quiet. Her heart stopped its sweet beating. Her lungs did not expand or deflate in her tiny chest. Panic washed over him, infusing every fiber of his being.
"77%."
Kaien's gaze did not break from Byakuya's troubled expression. She wasn't alive. The conclusion chilled Kaien. What if she was lost forever? Right then? What would they do? What could they do? Kaien contemplated the consequence of her death. To have the dark grasp of death greedily crush their hope would have been devastating.
"86%."
Byakuya trembled. The slight wavering of his chest was imperceptible to most, but not to Kaien. He saw the regal lord quake; Byakuya's fault lines were precise and hidden, but grief triggered them. Kaien blinked, hoping that his eyes had betrayed him, praying that it was all just an illusion.
It wasn't.
"93%."
Byakuya adjusted Hisana's weight in his arms. She was as light as a child. Too light, in fact. His arms were prepared for a weight twenty times her size. Each muscle locked in rigid tension, ready to brace against buckling, but, even after realizing that she could weigh no more than 70 pounds dripping weight, the fibers in his arms did not relax. Nothing in his body relaxed.
"Full synchronization. The host is stabilizing."
Hisana's eyelids fluttered open. Her once grey cheeks began to pinken as she gasped her first breath in minutes. With each inhalation, she attempted to draw the air deeper into her empty lungs. The heavy darkness lifted from her eyes, and she blinked, remembering what it was like to see. Her eyes lifted to meet Byakuya's gaze. She caught a glimmer of relief light his eyes, and she smiled. "Lord Kuchiki," she said, reverting to the familiar title.
He lowered his head to give them more privacy. "Do you think you can stand?" his voice, a ragged low whisper, warmed the shell of her ear.
She closed her eyes, feeling for the buckles of her restraints. "Yes," she replied.
As if she was made of thin glass, Byakuya lowered her. Her feet met the floor, but her body remained fully supported. Slowly, she found her balance and then her strength. "Thank you," she said softly.
"The relic draws vitality from the Vice Captain," the noblewoman informed the group.
Reflexively, Hisana's thin fingers traveled across the soft skin of her hand and up to the brace attached to her left arm. Her whole arm pulsated, releasing a new batch of pain with each pulse. Pushing down the suffocating burning, she ran her fingertips under her sleeve. She searched the metal, committing each protuberance and depression to memory. A gauge was embedded deep into the relic's metal, and Hisana examined it. Quarters—E, ¼, ½, ¾, F—marked the meter's face, stark white ink against a black background. The pointer, small and red, lingered over the E.
She wondered how long it would take it to begin its ominous ascent.
Catching Byakuya's, Kaien's, and Gin's gazes flicker to the relic, Hisana startled and dropped her arm to her side. The sleeve of her kimono slipped over the golden brace, obscuring its hideous gilded design from their eyes.
"I trust you have collected your provisions," Captain-Commander Yamamoto stated, his voice clear and booming overhead.
The four travelers exchanged dark gazes.
"Very well," Yamamoto growled, "the mission shall commence."
Unified, the four stood before the council of captains, ready, willing, and able.
Author's Notes: Thanks so much for reading! Hopefully, the foursome will start their journey in the next chapter. (About time...I would think.) It should be interesting to write and, hopefully, to read.
Sky1011: Aw! Thank you so much! I was re-watching, re-reading the older arcs of the series, and I tried to capture the parts that I liked best in this story.
Sunev.31: Exactly! I was really hoping to contrast Byakuya's apathy toward Lady N's sadness with his empathy toward Hisana's feelings. I have some ideas in mind with regard to the conflicting promises Byakuya has made in the prior chapters. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!
Rose Attack: Great! Hopefully, this chapter starts to lay out his efforts to find a solution to the current issue with the relic. I feel that Lady N is a rather tragic character. She's not quite conniving and willful enough to be detestable, but she isn't a noble-minded character either.
Nosono Takako: Thanks so much! Yes, there is the issue of Gin, which is rather purposeful. (I mean, she picks Byakuya and Kaien, which makes sense since they are both classical hero-types, and then she picks Gin...) I hope to start to unravel his purposes (both his own motivations and hers for selecting him) soon.