Disclaimer: I disclaim.

The Three-Body Problem

A Bleach Fanfic

Chapter Four: December

"Today, we will be taking a short break from our usual history lessons to learn about the various branches of Soul Society's military in their current incarnations." Ōnabara stood at the front of the classroom, hands folded comfortably behind his back. He never lectured from notes, leaving Yuzu to wonder just how long he'd been delivering the lessons for. Maybe she should ask her dad if he knew, next time she saw him.

Flipping to a new page in her notebook, Yuzu held her pen poised above it, tilting her head slightly to hear better. Even though there was a whole nearly-empty lecture hall, she, Karin, and Ishida still sat near the middle, and off to the left side.

"As most of you are likely already aware, the Soul Society's combative capability is split into three branches. The smallest branch is the Kidō Corps. They are composed of elite kidō practitioners, and hold most of the advanced kidō-related duties in Soul Society. They are often responsible for maintaining seals on holy relics, ensuring the function of longstanding spells on the Seireitei and other parts of the Soul Society, and the operation of Senkaimon." Ōnabara paused for a moment. "Once, they were also responsible for the operation of the Sōkyoku."

Yuzu glanced up; Ōnabara was looking directly at Ishida, and it wasn't long before pretty much everyone else had turned to do so as well.

Ishida himself stared back impassively, but his jaw was tight—she could see the muscle in it jumping. Their teacher might have meant it as a neutral observation, but it was charged with so much meaning that it was impossible to imagine everyone saw it the same way.

For the first time, Yuzu thought she might really understand a little piece of how it felt for him to be here. Pursing her lips, she met Fujita's obvious glare with one of her own. She shifted in slightly closer to Ishida in her chair, and observed Karin doing the same from the other side.

Ōnabara cleared his throat, and the tense moment eased.

"Of course, this is not all they do. But the rest of their responsibilities are not public information, and do not pass beyond the members and the Central 46." He raised both shoulders, letting them fall again. "Then again, the same goes for the higher-level functions of any of the branches."

"After the Kidō Corps, the next branch is the Onmitsukidō. Agents of this organization are expected to be among the very best at Hohō techniques and stealth tactics, including concealing their reiatsu. In addition, most branches of the Onmitsukidō require that their members be able to defend themselves against all manner of enemies without the use of weapons, and so hakuda specialists are common there."

Nishimura raised his hand, speaking when Ōnabara nodded at him. "As I understand it, sir, the Onmitsukidō is subsumed by the Second Division of the Gotei 13."

Whatever attention hadn't dispersed when Ōnabara spoke did then, and Yuzu let herself relax slightly, sighing through her nose and settling back into her chair.

"Thank you." Ishida spoke so quietly she almost didn't hear him, and Yuzu dipped her chin, smiling slightly.

"Anytime," she whispered back.

As it turned out, Nishimura's quasi-question had been a good one. Apparently, while the Onmitsukidō was technically distinct from the Second, the first five seats of the division led the five branches of the stealth force. Yuzu wondered how much of a separation that really was, but for the moment, she took the notes down faithfully.

"And of course," Ōnabara said, "There is the Gotei 13. By far the largest of the three, it also has the most diverse responsibilities. Shinigami are responsible for entering the living world and performing konsō, as well as purifying Hollows and protecting Soul Society from threats both internal and external."

It went without saying that the last was soon going to be incredibly necessary.

"The captain of each squad, properly addressed as 'taichō,' acts as the head of the Division. They are responsible for determining the character of the group as well as what specialization, if any, it will have. At present, only four divisions have particular specializations, though there are a variety of unique duties that others will may take on, such as the Ninth's publication of the Seireitei Bulletin. The four specialized divisions are the Second, the Fourth, the Eleventh, and the Twelfth. Despite what you may have heard, each Division is of equal status within the Seireitei, and it is expressly forbidden for captains to interfere in the squads of others."

He went on to list the names of all the current taichō and fukutaichō, and Yuzu frowned at the list. There were major gaps in the current leadership of the Gotei 13. Three missing captains, not yet replaced, one vice-captain out of commission, and still no fukutaichō in the Thirteenth. She had to wonder how the Fifth was even functional at the moment.

The situation, Yuzu realized, was a lot more dire than it seemed out in the Rukongai.

"Ha!" Karin grinned broadly down at Ishida. "Finally got you."

He blinked. "Well, yes, that was the idea of me attacking in exactly the way I told you I would."

Her face dropped into a frown. "Yeah, fine. But that's still the first time I made that throw work." She offered a hand down and pulled him back to his feet when he accepted it. Moving to the end of the mat, she took up one of the water containers they'd brought to practice and tossed it in his direction, grabbing another for herself and pulling out the cork in it with her teeth.

Slumping gracelessly at the edge of the mat, she stretched her legs out in front of her onto the grass, reminded uncomfortably of the feel of the ground in her inner world.

Ishida lowered himself into a seat beside her with considerably more control than she'd bothered with, taking the stopper from his canteen with his fingers. "You're improving a great deal," he said, almost apologetically.

Karin hmphed, knocking him in the bicep with her elbow, but not with any real violence. Setting her canteen between her knees, she braced her arms behind her and leaned back on them, watching Yuzu go by on the track. Karin thought her sister was getting a lot better; she had a decent mile time now, and was training to manage longer distances.

In all three of them, the physical changes were becoming obvious. Karin, always thin and wiry, hadn't been affected all that much in this respect by adolescence, but she really liked the contours of the muscles she'd developed with the training, and the feel of being in a body that was strong and fast and tough enough to do more every day.

Yuzu had always been softer, made of gentler shapes, but in her, too, the differences were becoming obvious. She didn't have to ask for help lifting heavy things anymore, and more than once she'd thrown people in hakuda class that Karin hadn't even been sure she could move.

Even the stickman didn't look so much like a stick anymore.

Much as she relished in their growing competency, however, things weren't exactly smooth sailing all the way around. No amount of coaching from either of them seemed to be able to coax Yuzu into hitting properly with her practice sword, for one. Karin sometimes wondered if her sister was ever going to be able to use her zanpakutō or not.

Ishida's kidō ran the gamut from dangerously-good to dangerously-bad depending on the day. Apparently something to do with his Quincy powers or whatever.

She herself still hadn't once beat Moribito at hakuda. She had a feeling Fēng kept matching them up for exactly that reason. It felt like something she must do now, no matter what. She'd made him an obstacle in her own head, and she was going to tear him down, one way or another.

Yes, but why?

She scowled, and turned to look at Ishida. "Does your zanpakutō ever interrupt you when you're thinking or bug you in your dreams? Mine does; it's really annoying."

He shook his head slowly. "No. But I'd honestly rather it did."

"How do you mean?"

"I haven't met it."

That got Karin's undivided attention. She sat all the way up, leaning slightly forward and tilting herself sideways to peer up at his profile. "Like… at all?"

"Like at all," he confirmed, mimicking her speech pattern dryly. "I can't seem to find it."

"But… you got into your inner world so fast, I kinda figured you'd be the first one to meet it." If Karin were being honest with herself, she had also been pretty sure that Ishida would be the first one to get shikai. He was already an experienced fighter, and obviously talented. She couldn't deny that. But even a slacker like Matsuda had at least met his spirit by now.

"I've been coming and going from my inner world for years," he said, his chest falling with a deep exhale. "But as far as I can tell, nothing has changed. Lucia is still there, but no new things have appeared at all."

"Lucia?"

His mouth pulled into a grimace. "The manifestation of my Quincy powers. She was there before I ever touched an asauchi."

Karin scratched the back of her head. "You sure you can even imprint on a zanpakutō? I mean, what if shinigami powers and Quincy powers don't mix?" It's not like anyone would know—when else in history had one ever tried to become the other as well?

"There's no reason they shouldn't. After all, they rely on completely different abilities and systems. I never really used reiryoku for anything before."

"Well, that's weird. You'd think if they all had reiryoku, they'd have figured out some technique to use it for." Karin shrugged. That kind of theory stuff wasn't really her area. It wasn't like she needed to know anyway; Ishida was strange, but that was fine by her.

Her eyes tracked Yuzu as she completed another lap around. Sugitani was on the track now, as well. He trained at night most of the time, too, but he didn't bother them and they didn't bother him, so it worked out.

"Is Yuzu-san all right?" Ishida asked abruptly.

Karin blinked, but the question didn't surprise her. Yuzu always started acting just a little more withdrawn around this time of year. For a moment, she was silent, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth, and then she pushed out a heavy sigh. "It's the time of year."

"I see. Is she particularly averse to winter?"

"No." Karin shook her head, the end of her ponytail ticking her neck. Rubbing irritably at the spot, she continued. "We used to have a bigger family, you know. Back in the living world. We had a mom, and an older brother." She swallowed, a lump already beginning to form in her throat. "They both died. We thought it was an accident, you know, a car or something, and dad brought us here to Soul Society after. It wasn't until we were older that he told us they were both eaten by a Hollow."

She felt Ishida shift beside her, but he was quiet, and she was grateful for that. It made continuing a little less difficult. Momentum, maybe; lots of things seemed to come back to that lately.

"They died in June, actually, but… on the day it happened, dad always takes us on a trip through a Senkaimon into the living world. We visit them and have a picnic, and it's… not happy, exactly, it's more like… comfortable. But our mom used to really like Christmas, and there's nothing like that here, so in December it feels… the most different, because they're gone." Karin squeezed her teeth together, looking at nothing in particular.

For several moments, no one spoke.

"Do you think it would help if there was some kind of gathering, perhaps on the twenty-fourth? I'm familiar with some aspects of the holiday; it doesn't seem difficult to manage on a small scale. It would not be the same, obviously, but…" He said the words carefully, delicately almost, like he was wary of offending, or intruding where he didn't belong.

Karin didn't usually spend a lot of time weighing her words, but this time she did. For so long, Christmas had been the forbidden holiday, in a way. They'd never talked about why they'd stopped celebrating, but they'd also never dared suggest resuming the tradition without mom and Ichigo. But maybe… "You know Ishida, I think she'd really like that. Dad probably can't do any of the planning and stuff, but I bet he could show. And I think I can… I think I can help set it up."

Yuzu's inner world wasn't that strange. Or she didn't think so, anyway, at least not compared to some of the things she'd heard the others talking about.

It was, in point of fact, a garden, or at least part of one. Situated in the grounds of an old-fashioned castle, the sort she imagined the real nobles must live in, the garden was neat, quiet, and serene.

It was also half-dead.

The parts she'd actually been able to access so far were a polished engawa, and the garden itself, which had several flower beds, a still pond with a bridge arched over it, leading to a room-sized island in the center. On the island sat a massive, withered tree, its bark nearly black.

Most of the flowers were wilted, too, beyond recognition, and it was perpetually raining on everything, the only place safe from the shower the covered roof of the engawa itself. She'd tried the doors—they didn't open.

A few of the blooms were alive, though, mostly young plants, and if she wasn't mistaken, that cluster of bluebells was new.

"The azaleas seem to be doing well," she said, stepping off the engawa and into the garden proper. She never manifested in her inner world with shoes, so she felt the wet earth beneath her bare feet when she alighted, soft but not completely sodden despite the unceasing water from above.

"They are simple to nurture here." The voice belonged to a woman, some years older in appearance than Yuzu herself. She was also barefoot, but that was where the similarity between them ended. The spirit had sheets of black hair pinned neatly in place, a cluster of fresh flowers positioned on the left side of the style. Her face was unpainted, but she wore a formal furisode, the color of the silk a gradient from pale pink at the shoulders to deep purple at the hem, with a thickening pattern of white petals toward the bottom and a heavy silver obi.

Yuzu looked around. Water lilies had joined the lotus flowers in the pond, and she almost thought to go looking for koi or frogs, but somehow she knew there wouldn't be any. Her eyes moved to the tree. Though the various dead things gave the garden an unquenchable melancholy, that more than anything filled her with a profound sense of sadness.

"Do you know what kind of tree that is supposed to be?" she asked.

The spirit rose from where she had been kneeling, fixing Yuzu with a petal-pink stare. "Not yet."

"Yet?" But it was already dead—it had to have been something before, rather than something that still had yet to be determined.

The spirit beckoned her forward, and Yuzu crossed the bridge to the small island, coming to stand both beside her. The woman took Yuzu's hand, uncurling her fingers and pressing her palm to the bark of the dead tree.

Only… it wasn't quite dead. She could feel something in there, dormant but alive. The bark was rough on her palm, the spirit's skin satiny on the back of her hand—a marked contrast.

"Yet." The woman repeated. "Perhaps one day we will both know, when you have cultivated it."

Yuzu blinked, drawing her hand away from the bark. "What if I can't?"

The spirit hummed, moving away from the tree to the edge of the pond. Despite the rain, which never touched her anyway, and despite wearing a kimono Yuzu would be scared to do anything in, she sat on the bank, pulling up the fabric at her knees and dipping her feet into the water. "Only you can decide that."

Frowning, Yuzu followed, crouching beside the spirit and folding her hands on top of her knees. The pond rippled slightly when the woman moved her feet under the water, bobbing the flowers up and down. They floated gently away, drifting until the force was no longer enough to keep them going and they stilled again.

"If I could decide its fate, it wouldn't be dead in the first place," she pointed out.

The spirit smiled indulgently. "You must decide to climb a mountain in order to climb it, Yuzu, even if the decision alone does not make it so. But if you decide not to, you never will."

"What if I don't know what decision to make? What if I make the wrong one?"

What if I decide, and fail anyway?

"Then you will suffer. And perhaps, so will others around you. But you must choose, Yuzu. You cannot hide from this until the bad things have passed. You cannot wait until the stakes are lesser. If you try, everything you do will be halfway, and that will bring suffering. Embrace this or do not, but if you choose it, grasp it with both arms and never let go."

Yuzu felt herself deflate slightly, and fixed her eyes on the pond in front of her, propping her chin on her arms. "I have to think it through," she said, her voice not rising above a murmur.

The spirit stopped moving beside her. "Then do so. But do not let thoughtfulness become an excuse for stasis."

She nodded, though she was anything but certain.

"So… why did I have to get this tree again?"

Renji stood in the doorway of the Kurosaki house, the trunk of a small evergreen tilted over his shoulder, and pine needles clinging to his hair. Beside him, Rukia was carrying a cake in a bakery box, probably from the same excursion into Karakura town.

"Decorated trees are traditionally part of the holiday," Uryū replied, pointing to an emptied corner of the living room, where a tree stand was already set up. "If you could set that in there, we can get started."

He accepted the cake from Rukia, stepping carefully around Karin and making his way into the kitchen. There was little by way of free counter-space left, but that was fine. Most of the other sweets were cooling on racks, nearly ready to be frosted. The cake looked quite professional, with mostly white frosting, the strawberries and sprigs of mint giving it the distinct color scheme of Christmas.

No sooner had he found a spot for it than a frustrated half-growl sounded from back the way he'd come, and he turned, retracing his steps until he found Karin, picking at drying glue on her fingers. Somehow, she was covered in loose bits of tinsel.

"I take it wreath construction is proving difficult."

She glared up at him, eyes half lidded. "What tipped you off, genius? I can't do this craft stuff. Yuzu's the only one in our family who's good at anything like this." She hoisted her half-finished wreath in the air, brandishing it at him like a weapon.

He examined it. Actually, apart from being a bit sparse, and the inclusion of the tinsel, which was not a traditional component as far as Uryū was aware, it wasn't a terrible start. "Here," he said, holding out his hand for it. "We can salvage this, with some work. Hand me a few more of those boughs, and the shears."

Karin hurried to comply, grabbing the items off the floor where she'd been working. Her wire base wasn't the sturdiest, but it was good enough, and he could compensate.

Cutting a length of the thin floral wire from the spool, Uryū picked a gap and wove a new bough into it, working in the clockwise direction Karin had already established. Placing the wire between his teeth, he used both hands to set the branch in place, dabbing a little craft glue where it hit the frame for extra hold. The wire bit into his fingers as he wound it tightly around the base of the bough, securing it with a quick knot.

"Scissors." They landed handle-first in his hand, and he trimmed the excess away.

Repeating the process several more times yielded them a plush, neat circle of fir, and he handed it back to her, pointing at the craft glue. "You don't need much, but you should add some of those pine cones. And the small bells. Let me know when that's done, and I'll do the ribbon."

"Uh… yeah, sure Ishida."

He nodded, then headed for the living room to see what Renji and Rukia had done with the tree.

In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have left them without instructions.

"…Rukia-san."

She turned on her heel, smiling broadly. "I decorated your tree, Ishida. The man at the store told me that you're supposed to put ornaments on them."

"Yes, but…" Uryū looked at Renji.

Renji shrugged helplessly behind Rukia's back, shaking his head.

"Generally speaking, it is best to pick ornaments based on a color scheme or a theme, not one of everything in the store." There were also no lights, and the ornament at the top looked suspiciously like a cartoon rabbit. He wasn't sure how she'd managed to find such a thing, but she had.

"Oh." Rukia tilted her head to the side, frowning thoughtfully. "I suppose it's a bit hard to see the tree, isn't it?"

Uryū refrained only barely from pinching the bridge of his nose. He could feel the headache coming on already. "Go… go get some of the tinsel from Karin-san, and bring it back here. We'll… figure it out."

Yuzu shuffled aside several of the keys on her ring of them, looking for the one that worked to her family's front door. Her dad had asked her to come by and have some tea, and while she'd never have said no, the time of the year made it somehow impossible to do anything but tear herself away from her homework and make her way over immediately.

From the outside, the house looked dark, and she wondered if perhaps he'd been caught up working late in the clinic or something. Well, if he had she could just put the tea on herself and wait up for him. Sliding the key into the lock, Yuzu opened the slightly-sticky door with her shoulder, bending preemptively to remove her shoes.

The lights suddenly clicked on overhead. Looking up, she promptly overbalanced and fell over.

"Surprise!"

"Merry Christmas, Yuzu!"

For a very long few seconds, Yuzu remained on the floor, eyes wide with shock. Standing in her family's living room were Karin, Ishida, a woman she didn't know and Abarai-sensei, and her father…

…Her father was wearing a santa suit.

All of them looked at her expectantly, and she picked up on the tense half-frown slowly overtaking Karin's face. There was a terribly-decorated Christmas tree in the corner, not one decoration even remotely matching the others and no lights to be seen. A fancy wreath dripping with silver bells was tacked onto archway into the kitchen, and food covered every visible surface, mostly sweets. The air was scented with gingerbead and evergreen, and before she'd even consciously decided to do it, Yuzu was smiling, from the very bottom of herself.

The tension evaporated right out of Karin, and everyone else a half second later, and then her dad was pulling her to her feet and swinging her around, and everyone else was laughing at them and Yuzu was laughing too, until there were tears in her eyes but just for a moment—just for a little tiny bead of time— none in her heart.

She wrapped her arms around her father, grinning into his shoulder. "Thanks, dad," she murmured.

"Don't thank me," he said back, just as quietly. "Thank them."

After the initial moment of panic, when Karin hadn't been so sure this was a good idea after all, and the usual ridiculous exaggerated behavior from their dad, the evening was actually pretty quiet.

Ishida had introduced them both to Rukia, and they'd explained between them who exactly she was and why she was present. Apparently, this was the lady Ishida had invaded the Seireitei to save. Karin didn't quite get it, since Rukia didn't seem to be around much, and she wondered if they were even really friends. But then, knowing Ishida, they could be—he didn't exactly loosen up much even around her and Yuzu.

Right now, though, Karin had bigger problems.

"Hey, you wanna say that again?" She balled her hands into fists and put them on her hips, scowling at Renji.

"I'm just saying it sounds like your zapakutō spirit is a chicken." Renji said it through a mouthful of cookie that she'd decorated, a few stray crumbs escaping.

Karin's eye twitched. "Oh yeah? At least it's not an overgrown baboon."

"Hey! Zabimaru is not 'overgrown.'"

She supposed there was really no arguing on the baboon part, but still, of all the things to take issue with…

"Jeez, Abarai, you need to work on your trash talk. Weren't you part of the Eleventh?"

Renji swallowed, wiping crumbs from his mouth with the back of his hand. "You sure you should be trash talking me at all, kid? I am in charge of your grades."

Karin scoffed. "Yeah right. Like you'd mark me down for making fun of you. And who're you calling kid anyway?"

It was, in all honesty, basically by reflex that she went in to kick him. Considering that her father ambushed her in the hallways of her own home, and had been doing it since she was a little kid, it just felt normal.

Renji easily caught the blow in his hand, but then shifted his glance to her face, raising a tattooed brow. "Huh. That had some force behind it. You play any sports before the academy or…?" He let go of her foot, straightening from where he'd bent his knees to absorb the impact. Probably also instinct—he wouldn't have needed more than a finger to do the job.

"Used to. Soccer." She shrugged.

He blinked once, then grinned. "Soccer, huh? That's the one with the black and white ball and the nets, right?"

"Yep."

"That's awesome. I've been trying to start a divisional soccer team. You should join when you graduate." Renji nodded decisively.

"Who says I'm joining your division? It's gotta be kinda crappy if they have a guy like you for a fukutaichō."

For some reason, Rukia, not too far away, sputtered and began to choke on her drink. Ishida handed her napkin, and Yuzu moved in to rub her back.

Renji crossed his arms. "You're a mouthy brat, aren't you?" She didn't miss the jagged smile he was wearing, though.

"At least I'm not a dumb monkey."

The walk back from the house was nearly silent. Renji and Rukia had parted from them a couple of blocks back, headed toward their divisions, while the three of them made for the academy. Yuzu walked between Ishida and Karin, her stomach full and her insides warm.

It had been such a long time since she'd last done anything like that; celebrated anything in particular. They had birthdays, of course, and their dad typically went overboard about them, but there was something about having other people around that made it… different. Not necessarily better or worse, but worth doing in its own way.

They paused to allow Ishida to make the obligatory check of his own room, which he found for once entirely unoccupied.

"Looks like you can keep your extra space this evening," he said, turning back towards the both of them.

Karin nodded, but Yuzu shuffled her feet for a moment. She had a feeling this might not go over well, but she thought it was warranted, and wanted to do it, so…

"Sorry." Without exactly explaining what she was apologizing for, she stepped forward and hugged a very startled Ishida, winding her arms under his and squeezing briefly. "Thanks, for doing that. It meant a lot."

He was awkwardly stiff, spine straight and muscles tense, but he did pat her on the head, hesitantly, almost as if he were afraid of damaging her somehow.

Yuzu stifled the urge to laugh at him, but relented her hold, stepping back. "You don't get hugged a lot, do you Ishida-san?"

He cleared his throat. "Not especially, no." There was a pause. "Also… it is not necessary to address me so formally, if you don't want to. Ishida or Uryū would both be fine." He shifted his eyes to include Karin as well. "For either of you."

Karin crossed her arms. "As long as you do the same. No more of this 'Karin-san' stuff."

Yuzu nodded. "Sure thing. We'll see you tomorrow, Uryū."

Term Dictionary:

Engawa – 縁側 – "Side edge." Typically a wooden strip of flooring immediately before windows and storm shutters inside traditional Japanese rooms. Also refers to the veranda outside the room.

Furisode – 振袖 – "Swinging sleeves." A very formal style of kimono with rally fancy patterns and super-wide bell sleeves. Traditionally the most formal kimono worn by younger, unmarried women.

Christmas isn't celebrated in Japan the same way it is in other countries, being mostly a commercial holiday or one for friends/lovers (and almost never religious), but I don't think it's too much of a stretch to imagine that the Kurosakis celebrated it, since some families do.

Also, Renji and Karin trash-talk each other. Probably they will eventually spar a lot. This is just how I see them getting along.