A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. I got some good ones that gave me idea's for future scenes. The words of encouragement was great too.

Just so you know, none of the filler arcs or movies are taken into account in this story, simply because they don't make sense to me with fitting into the main plot. So basically I'm writing from the manga's storyline, as opposed to the anime's. Those three annoying mods souls were never created, and that new captain person didn't exist. Ashido and the Menos forest too, even if Kubo was planning on including them the fact remains he didn't.

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The Heir Apparent
Chapter 4 – The Perils of Paperwork

Ichigo's eyelids flitted as he went between being half asleep and awake. Something pink came into view, candy floss. He reached out to grab it. It was soft and fluffy, but under that hard; round; like a head…

'AAARRRGGGH' he yelled, sitting bolt upright and pulling away.

'Oheio ichi-ichi,' said Yachiru happily.

'What are you doing here?' he demanded, uncomfortably aware that he was in only his boxers. It had been hot last night. He quickly grabbed the pair of pants that had been laid out for him and pulled them on.

'Why am I here,' she said to herself, looking up and raising her index finger to her chin.

'Dumbass, you don't even know,' he muttered.

'Oh, I remember,' she said, pulled out a large glove that had been looped around her sash and walked up to him. With him sitting they were almost the same height. Then she started slapping him across the face with it.

After a few seconds of abuse, he caught her hand and said, 'What was that for?' He wasn't angry, she was Yuzu's age, he wouldn't get angry with her. Actually she was a lot older than him, but she looked and acted very young.

'Ken-chan wants to fight,' she said.

'I'm not fighting him, not today. I've got a shit-load of work to do too,' he said, pulling on one of the white socks. 'Why did you hit me with the glove, to wake me up?'

'I read a book where they did that, then the other man gotta fight, see?'

He sighed and explained patiently as he put on his sandals, 'You just hit them once, you don't barrage them with blows. That tradition hasn't been practised for centuries. And besides, you don't challenge on someone else's behalf.'

'It's Ken-chan's glove,' she said.

'I give up,' he muttered, rising slowly.

At that point the door opened to reveal Rukia. She looked tired and grumpy, but her eyes widened as soon as she saw him, then she immediately looked down; a slight blush forming.

'Oh crap,' he swore, realising that he was still topless. He quickly wrapped his white kosode around his torso and tucked it in. 'What is it,' he said, also red. It was one thing Yachiru seeing him that way, Rukia was another story.

'Byakuya nii-sama has invited you to breakfast with us,' she said, still looking down.

That took him by surprise. First he'd been allowed to spend the night at the nobles manor, though he suspected Rukia had had something to do with that, now he was being treated as an honoured guest. What was going on? 'Uh, sure,' he said, 'I'll be right there.'

'Can I come too?' piped Yachiru.

'No you can't,' said Rukia. Since she hadn't even commented about her presence Ichigo guessed that Yachiru was a frequent guest. Or rather, a frequent pest.

'Aw, I wanna see Byakushi,' she pouted.

Rukia sighed and took her hand, and started dragging her out. Yachiru cried, 'Yay, slide-ride,' and dug her heels in so that it would be difficult to budge her. Rukia had a resigned look on her face, this probably wasn't the first time she'd resorted to doing that.

'I'll see you there,' she called back as she dragged the child-lieutenant out the room.

'Man, with Ukitake gone, is there anybody normal left in Soul Society?' he said to himself as he pulled on the last pieces of his shihakusho.

He left the room and was escorted by a servant to where the head of the Kuchiki clan was waiting. Rukia joined him just as he entered the veranda, which was overlooking the place they had watched the sun go down the other night. The view in the morning light was even more spectacular, the land beyond sparkled with dew and trees swayed in the gentle breeze. In the distance an antelope grazed alone.

'Good morning, Byakuya,' he said as pleasantly as he could to the man who had once been his mortal enemy. Rukia stamped on his foot, hard, eliciting a yelp from him. 'That was my foot!'

'You have no respect,' she hissed. 'You know how you should address my brother, especially since you are his guest in his home. Is it so hard to call him "Kuchiki-sama" or "Kuchiki-tacho"?'

'Why, we'll be the same rank in a few days,' he argued. 'I'm not going to use honorific's for someone on my level.'

'You don't change, do you, Kurosaki Ichigo,' said Byakuya mildly from behind the table.

'Not really,' he agreed, ignoring Rukia's glower.

'Then may I call you Ichigo?'

Both Rukia and him gaped. Byakuya, making a peace offering. What was going on? Humbled by the other man, well, humility; Ichigo said quietly, 'Yeah, I'd like that.'

'Please, sit,' said Byakuya, gesturing to the places.

They did so, Ichigo opposite him and Rukia between the two of them. Servants came with slices of assorted fruits, many of which he'd never tasted before. It was nice, but fairly insubstantial. Before he commented on it they came with the next course. They simply kept feeding them more and more different small courses until they indicated they'd had enough. Rukia was the first, predictably, she only had three. Byakuya surprised him by putting away as much as he did. Conversation was stilted, mostly just a question posed, and then answered in short; no long discussions. Despite the formality, there was a tranquillity about the ceremony. He doubted he would be able to stand eating all his meals like this, but he could get used to doing it once in a while.

That tranquillity was shattered when they were drinking their after-meal green tea by the return of Yachiru, who jumped at them with a cry of 'Byakushi!'

x

'So, what did he say?' said Kenpachi when he felt the familiar weight of his lieutenant clamber onto his shoulder. He was watching a match between Ikkaku and the man who wanted to be their sixth seat. Everybody knew that that position was a springboard for becoming a lieutenant in another division, both Renji and Iba had come up that way. That they were now the captain and lieutenant of the seventh meant that they had strong ties with that division.

'He said he didn't want to today, Ken-chan,' she said.

'Che,' he muttered. Kids these days were such wimps, never fighting unless they had to. 'Did he give a reason?'

'Hai,'

'Well, what was it?'

'He said, "I've got to work to do a load of shit".'

Kenpachi grunted, he could sympathise with the boy. There was nothing worse than constipation when you wanted to fight.

x

'Phew, that's done,' said Urahara to his subordinate who finally looked normal. 'That's it, you can go. Shoo, scram.'

'Thank you very much, taicho,' said the man, bowing low before exiting through the doorway.

Yoruichi was standing there, leaning against the frame. 'Is that the last of them, Kisuke?'

'Would you believe it,' said Urahara, whistling softly. 'I think Mayuri experimented on every single squad member that's been here since before the Ichigo's initial invasion. I'll have to do follow up examination's in about a month.'

Unlike his former third seat turned captain of the twelfth division, Urahara was basically a humane man. His inventions were practical, and didn't cause thousands to suffer during the experimentation phase. He'd always known Mayuri was a bit of a madman, but only now could he appreciate the full depth of his depravity. He never should have taken him out of the maggot's nest. Why Soul Society had turned a blind eye to his methods he couldn't fathom. Perhaps it was a good thing that he'd been killed in the final battle of the war.

'How's Nemu?' said Yoruichi.

'Bad,' sighed Urahara, 'What can you expect, she was created with the sole purpose of serving her master and father, who's now dead.'

It went deeper than that, but he didn't feel like getting into a lengthy discussion about it, even with his oldest friend. She bore symptoms of emotional and sexual abuse, which according to the other divisional members had manifested itself into absolute obedience to Mayuri's orders. She didn't know what to do without him. She now just sat in her room, staring at the wall blankly.

If she'd been, as Mayuri had claimed, a clone copy of him, Urahara would have destroyed her as humanely as possible. But she wasn't, she was her own person. It was true, she was Mayuri's daughter, but like all daughters she also had a mother. She'd been created the old fashioned way, in a test tube. Well, old fashion in scientist talk. It certainly wasn't any extreme new method. Of course, there was no point in searching for her biological mother. She'd likely been cut up decades ago.

'How's Hiyori?' he said, changing the subject.

'Not good,' Yoruichi admitted, 'She didn't want to come back to Soul Society in the first place. I think she was happier hiding out on earth with her Vizord friends. But she was forced to when Shinji and Kensei came here. More than anything, she's terrified of being alone.'

'I wonder if she shouldn't be transferred to be under Shinji,' said Urahara thoughtfully. 'They always seemed close.'

'Matsumoto would never be able to work as the head of the patrol corps. She just doesn't have the right temperament.'

'And Hiyori does?'

'She tries.'

Urahara turned back to his computer, and started absently writing out notes on what he'd just dealt with; so that he'd have a reference to refer back to during the follow up exam. Subject had tentacles growing out his back, these were capped with a bony spike. Subject displayed limited control of said tentacles. Possible weapon's experimentation, probably based on Hollow weaponry.

'More than half the captain's will have been replaced when we get one for the third squad,' he said absently as he worked. 'We'll probably be seeing some more lieutenant shuffling before the end of the year.'

Yoruichi came up behind him and took off his hat. Then she started combing her fingers through his hair and massaging his scalp skilfully. He groaned with pure pleasure. Those trained fingers, which were deadly weapons in their own right, were currently but a source of relaxation for him. She knew he needed it, he'd been working like a dog to turn the twelfth division into something that didn't resemble a mad scientist's wet dream.

'Are you keeping in contact with Jinta and Ururu?' she said softly.

'Yeah, ooh that's good, I've stationed my third seat in my old shop with a team to gather data on the real world.'

'Didn't you have a hundred years to do that?' she chided.

'I guess, but they can keep an eye on those two while they're there.'

'Aha, so that's the reason.'

x

Rukia had to admit, she was a little intimidated by the stack of papers on the captain's desk. Or rather, stacks. There were three of them, each as tall as she was.

'I guess there's a bit of a backlog,' Ichigo said beside her, his eyes as wide as hers.

'Look on the bright side,' she said bravely. 'It can't get any worse.'

Sentaro chose that moment to burst in, his arms filled with yet another pile of papers. 'These are today's documents, Kurosaki-taicho, Kuchiki-fukutaicho.'

'You were saying?' said Ichigo, 'I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you properly. I think you should tell me again.'

Rukia snorted, he could be such a snobbish child sometimes. She wasn't in a good mood either, seeing how much they had to do. 'Can it, strawberry,' she said.

'Like hell, midget.'

That prompted a whole barrage of exchanged insults, which became progressively weaker as they ran out good ones. She finally put a stop to it, while it was fun it didn't get any work done. They called in Kiyone in, and told her and Sentaro to organise the backlog documentation into categorised piles while she and Ichigo dealt with that day's.

Rukia had never been a seated officer, and thus hadn't had to deal with paperwork since her academy days. After an hour grinding away at it she decided that this was the scourge her brother had been protecting her against all those years. Just about every slip of paper had to be scanned and added to their division's database, then backed up by filing in the relevant file. The computers did make things easier in that they automatically pulled up the related documentation.

For example, there was an unseated shinigami (she forgot his name almost as soon as she saw it) who had put through a transfer request, asking to be sent to the first squad. The computer immediately brought up the records of his insubordinate and cowardly behaviour sent by his section commander. It also brought up the fact that he'd been transferred five times in the last three years, and all the other divisions had had similar problems with him. Rukia granted it, they didn't want a person like that in their squad. But when it came time to fill in the squad she was going to transfer him to, she pressed one twice. They would either straighten him out, or kill him. Both seemed good results. She also wrote out a quick memo to send to Ikkaku, warning him.

Some of them were simple to deal with, like memo's from other squads and short reports of hollows slain in the material world. She remembered sending those on Ichigo's behalf not too long ago. The death of a shinigami resulted in, literally, a ton of paperwork. She had a feeling there would be quite a lot of those pages in the backlog piles, there had been many losses during the later stages of the war. She didn't envy the Captain-commander, having to deal with the paperwork for four fallen captains and the replacing of said captains.

Then there was the day to day running of a division documents, food and drink slips, repair and building expenses, laundry and clothing bills, pay slips ect. All had to be checked and recorded, the division had a budget to meet. Transfer requests, both for coming to and going from the division. And enrolment of students who had graduated the academy. The thirteenth was a popular division, it had a good reputation and they could literally pick and choose the best candidates, based on the reports of their trainers.

It was interesting how different people were drawn to certain divisions she thought, thinking back to the class she'd graduated with. The social outcasts, those who were known as 'nerds' and 'geeks' in the material world, pretty generally ended up in the twelfth. Introverts went to the second or third, depending on how much inner rage they harboured. Men who fancied themselves as 'macho' went to the eleventh, but then Zaraki only accepted that kind. Sensitive, compassionate people who really weren't cut out for fighting went to the fourth, it was the only squad with a notable prevalence of women. Ninth was for those with unusually strong convictions as to why they fought. So what type of person did the thirteenth attract? Judging by those she'd known, probably the laid-back intelligent people with a healthy dose of insanity.

They stuffed down their lunch in seconds and finished the day's work halfway through the afternoon, then started on the backlog. By the time it was dark, she was the only one still standing, the others had all collapsed from sever brain-drain. She wasn't all that far off herself.

'Let's call it a day,' she said tiredly as she filed the papers in her hands.

''bout time,' Ichigo croaked from the floor.

Kiyone and Sentaro said their goodbyes and walked off, for once not bickering. They had no energy left. Rukia retrieved Sode no Shirayuki, only to find her soon to be captain still facedown on the floor. He was using his knees to propel himself towards the exit.

'Are you pretending to be a snake?' she said curiously, trying not to smile. Honestly, he looked so ridiculous.

'Shut up, my body won't obey my brain any more.'

He could be such a baby at times. She tried to help him up, but he simply fell down again. She couldn't possibly carry him all the way back to the Kuchiki manor, and even if she could what would her brother think; not to mention everybody who saw them along the way. Fortunately she had a skill that she could now put into good use. She bent down and removed her sandals and socks.

'What are you doing?' said Ichigo from the floor.

She pushed his bottom down with her heel, hard. He cried out as his groin slammed into the floor. 'No talking, I'm going to give you a massage.'

'It's quite alright,' he protested in an unnaturally high voice. She ignored him.

She'd never actually done this before, but had seen it in one of her favourite manga's. By standing on a persons back you would alleviate the muscular pressure in appropriate areas. She reasoned, naturally, that the harder you pressed the more you would relieve them. So she started stamping on him with as much force as she could muster, while he cried out between blows with what she presumed must be satisfaction.

He heaved up suddenly, knocking her off, and jumped to his feet. 'ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME!' he shouted, a vein popping on his forehead.

'It worked,' she said proudly. 'You should be thanking me.'

'I only got up because if I hadn't I would have died,' he growled, rubbing his kidneys furiously. 'Where did you learn that anyway, Auschwitz?'

'What's Ows-fits,' she said, furrowing her brow.

'Che, never mind,' he said, and headed out, grabbing Zangetsu on his way.

Rukia caught up after she'd put her footwear back on. He immediately made a comment about her taking her time, which sparked an argument that lasted until they were back at the Kuchiki manor. She enjoyed it, it was a good way to get the brain working again. But they had to stop when they reached the gates, they didn't want to disturb her brother.

Ichigo stopped, rubbing the back of his head. 'Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow.'

Rukia glanced up at him. 'What are you talking about,' she said, 'where're you going?'

'I thought I'd crash with Renji tonight. He owes me a few favours.'

'You're welcome to stay here.'

'Says who?'

She smiled, 'Says my brother. He wants you to stay with us until after the ceremony, when you get your new quarters.'

Ichigo looked flustered. 'That's ah - nice of him. But what about you?'

'What about me?'

'Will you be moving into your lieutenants accommodation?'

'No,' she said with a smirk, 'my brother's house is much nicer than even the captain's quarters. Besides, it's not compulsory that you stay at the provided accommodation if you're seated officers above the rank of tenth, as long as your division knows where to find you.'

'Really?' said Ichigo, obviously surprised. 'So did Ukitake have his own house?'

'He did,' she said, 'I hear it's gone to his family, who were staying with him anyway. But he made regular use of the quarters provided, generally when he collapsed at work from his illness.'

At that point the door opened, to reveal her brother. He was out of his shinigami attire and in a soft looking kimono. His hair was wet and his skin looked flushed, evidence of his recent warm wash. 'If you have concluded your discussion, dinner is served,' he said.

'Thank you, nii-sama,' she said respectfully.

'Thanks, Byakuya,' said Ichigo.

He nodded, 'I look forward to your company,' he said, and turned to go back inside.

'I wonder why he's being so nice to me,' said Ichigo suspiciously, his eyes following her brother's retreating form.

'He's being mature about the whole thing,' she said. 'After all, you two are going to have to put up with each other for several centuries at least.'

Ichigo groaned. 'I'd forgotten how long high-ranking Shinigami live for.'

'I expect you to be on your best behaviour tonight,' she said, leading him inside.

'Aren't I always?' he said.

He had so set himself up, she couldn't help but start another argument then and there.

x

Inoue Orihime was walking home, swinging her shopping bag happily. Soon she would be home, and cooking up all kinds of yummy delicacies. Like strawberry omlettes, chocolate fish fillets, Ice cream and barbeque sauce, the list was limitless! It was such a pity that Tatsuki-chan wasn't feeling well, and hadn't been able to come. Oh well, all the more for her.

There was a flapping sound of material caught in the wind, a sound that often heralded the arrival of a shinigami. She turned, expecting to see Kurosaki-kun or Kuchiki-san, even though they'd just left. Instead she found herself face to face with…

'Shiba Kukaku-san, Ganju-kun. What are you doing here, are you on holiday?'

'Sort of, Orihime-chan,' said Kukaku, 'Actually we came to see you.'

Orihime was puzzled, why would they want to come and see her. Ah, that was it. 'Did you hear about my famous cooking from Rangiku-san and decided to come sample, I can make extra for you.'

'That's not it…' began Kukaku, but was cut off by her younger brother.

'Ah, FOOD, lead the way; Orihime-chan.'

Kukaku sighed and followed them to Orihime's house. There would be plenty of time after dinner to discuss what they really wanted to do.

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