Author's Note: CH32 edited for typos/prose. I might extend Keigo's mini Jinzen session to include a mini tour of his mansion.
There were few days that Yushiro Shihoin looked forward to more than Harvest Day. Today was that day.
An egg-shaped device, a foot long, with its narrow end extruding into a needle, weighed down Yushiro's immature arms as he skipped up a spiral staircase, onto a wooden balcony, through velvet curtains between two standing servants, their eyes and ears covered in reflective foil. Floorboards had been recently mopped. White gems on the ceiling twinkled like stars in this dim room. In the middle, suspended on wires, the remains of a deity from a long past age was held in a crystal.
"Are you awake in there?" Yushiro wiped fog off the crystal, felt nothing from the armless, legless body.
Four-pupil eyes stared back emotionlessly, unblinking.
No answer.
Not a wisp of spiritual pressure pressed outward from this crystal, but according to Ichibei, no one could feel the Soul King's will except for the five Squad 0 members, whose bones were infused with this mutilated soul's energy. Today, the Soul King was awake and ready to be harvested, again, according to the all-powerful, all-knowing, all-wise Ichibei Hyosube.
"Blink if you can hear me." Yushiro tapped the crystal with his index finger. "Helloooo."
Maybe it was the dark lighting here, but its pupils appeared to wiggle up and down in greeting.
Yushiro wiped off more fog, looked more closely, his nose prodding chilly crystal. "Was that a yes?"
Its eyes didn't wiggle.
Oh, too bad. It was the poor lighting.
Yushiro shrugged and stabbed the harvester device's needle into the Soul King's chest. On the containment egg, a two-inch line rotated from left to right within a measuring dial, indicating pure spirit energy was being siphoned. When the line was three pips from max volume, it stopped moving. One pip fewer than last time. Not as generous today.
Yushiro tugged on the harvester. Its needle left a circular wound that closed up like kneaded dough springing back into shape. Seeing that, anyone would think the dismembered man in there was alive in some capacity. Was the deity in pain? Could a deity feel pain at all?
Yushiro's eyes narrowed as he whispered, "I hope that did hurt. That's what you get."
Imagination painted a sad frown onto the Soul King's face—as if proclaiming innocence.
"Don't give me that face, I read about what happened a thousand years ago. We know that was your doing, trying to ruin our girls again." Yushiro stuck out his tongue, pulled an eye.
Spirit energy swished inside the egg while he skipped out of this throne room, the servants paying no attention. Air outside was immediately warmer. Feeling lazy, he Flash Stepped off the balcony. It unnerved him to be in open air up here. It was so high up that the evening atmosphere shrouded the ground in dark purple haze. Nevertheless, had not once misstepped.
Yushiro headed into Senjumaru Shutara's palace. She was sitting on her throne, reading a book, between multicolored drapes and cloth rolls. Her clothing today was a black leotard, slightly see-through. Her lavender perfume was strong. He set the harvester down on the floor, then threw himself at her with open arms and glee. Her bosom cushioned his face. "Senjumaru!"
"Happy to see you too, kiddo." Her fingers ran through his hair. She kissed his cheek. "Did you bring it?"
"Right here." Sitting on her lap, he fished three metallic circles from his pocket. In each circle was a five-pointed star. These Quincy crosses were old Shihoin war artifacts, centuries old. They'd been in a dusty box in the Shihoin compound vaults down at the Seireitei. He had gone all the way to get these. "Why do you want them?"
"Since the Kurosakis are cooperating, I thought to tailor them new outfits. I'll have these crosses sewn into the sleeves, on the inside, needless to say."
Yushiro's ear twitched. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"It's an idea," Senjumaru dismissively said and swiped the crosses. "The crosses can always be cut out."
"Okay." He could care more, but he didn't. "So… my reward. Two weeks."
She played dumb: "Two weeks of what?"
"As we agreed, for the next two weeks, you'll be my very own hugging toy at night. No clothes are allowed in my room."
"I don't remember that part of the deal."
He said cheekily, "It's always been that way in my room. That's the rule."
Her tongue clicked. Her eyes gleamed. "Very well then. You've been good to me, so a deal's a deal. I'll be waiting in your bed every night for two whole weeks. Without clothing."
"You're the best, Senjumaru!" He buried his face into her neck, her pulse against his lips. She tasted sweet. Honey-milk flavored skin cream, his favorite. He could lick her all day.
She gently pushed him away. "Don't you have something to deliver?"
Right, the harvester.
Better to not keep the nice old monk waiting.
Yushiro hopped off her lap, grabbed the harvester, and dashed out through the window. Out of hundreds of spiritual pressure sources in these five royal palaces, Ichibei's, although tightly suppressed, stood out above all. The old guy's pressure was unlike anyone else's, an all-permeating spilled ink on paper; he was something of a deity himself, but not really, having personally known the misguided Soul King from the past age. Yushiro couldn't bear to imagine what life had been back then, the dark times. Unfathomable misery and pain. A shiver rattled his tailbone.
At Oetsu Nimaya's palace, voices were reverberating in the main hall. Yushiro hid behind a corner, his feline self far too curious for his own good.
"What do you suggest?" Oetsu asked.
And Ichibei muttered unintelligibly under his breath before saying, "I could go down there and sort it out before sunrise."
"You for real?"
"I am," Ichibei said with conviction. "I've lost track of the boy."
Yushiro guessed the boy was none other than Ichigo Kurosaki.
"For real for real?!" Oetsu exclaimed, his voice booming.
Calmly Ichibei said, "When I think of his name, I don't sense anything. He possesses a power that supersedes mine."
"Dayam! It's been what, a week, and it's already a huge heaping mess. I can't believe Tenjiro was right."
"Do you sense the boy's Zanpakuto?" Ichibei asked.
"No," Oetsu blurted, "I was about to say. Something real spooky is going on here." He whistled. "What about the girl we sent? What's her name? Kuchiki? Is she still alive?"
"Rukia Kuchiki," Ichibei said in a layered voice. "Sode no Shirayuki."
"Ah, yeap, I feel her Zanpakuto. Way, way, way north. But if she's alive, then there's nothing to fuss over. And with Kurosaki's strength, I'm sure this will all resolve itself without our interference."
"I'm sure as well, old friend. I'm sure as well." Ichibei's sandals scuffed. Then he was standing next to Yushiro, taking the harvester. "And thank you very much, my little friend."
Being head of the great noble Shihoin clan, Yushiro had the right to ask, "What's happening down there?"
"The usual. Traitors in the Seireitei. Central 46 was wiped out."
"Really? I went by Central 46 this morning."
Ichibei stroked his beard, his gaze fixed on Yushiro. Suddenly his oversized brush Zanpakuto was in his hand. The brush shrank to pen-size, and Ichibei hastily wrote all over Yushiro's forehead. Black ink evaporated once the monk was done, pleased with his handiwork. "There, all fixed. Don't go down there again. It would sadden me to see you die."
Bewilderment widened Yushiro's eyes. "What did you do to me?"
Ichibei didn't explain and departed with a soundless Flash Step. Cryptic as always. He hadn't said what he needed the Soul King's spirit energy for either. Probably more dimensional repairs. The realms were awfully unstable as of late. Too many newborn souls. The Human population was in the billions. Several billion. The reincarnation tubes were congested these days, constantly gurgling. Someone as powerful as Ichigo going through it had blocked it for days.
Kitty sense tingling, Yushiro had to wonder what power that boy could possibly hold that eclipsed Ichibei's.
In the living world, it was normal to grieve with a bottle of alcohol. Here in Soul Society, it was the same, and Ichigo found himself easily partaking in this tradition. He downed his twentieth cup of Sake. His throat burned. Fire sloshed in his stomach. He burped fruity acid.
Haruka cried, "I told Rangiku that Gin wasn't any good for her! Serves her right!" She pointed at Ichigo. "And you! If I ever find out you and Rukia do the same thing, there'll be hell to pay!"
"Quit jabbering." Ichigo presented his middle finger. "I may get jealous some times, but I'm not suicidal. If anything, I'm worried about the pipsqueak."
Hanataro slurred, "Why's that?"
"Because I'm going to fuck these two sluts tonight, and you will watch me pump them full of my cum. Don't hang yourself."
"Oh, wow, that's too far," Rukia hollered, laughing like a buffoon.
"Do it, and I'll be hanging from the roof in the morning." Hanataro faked sobs.
Haruka seized him in a bear hug. "Don't you dare. Fuck me as much as you need. Now."
But Hanataro was too drunk to even fondle her breasts. "I'm juuuust kidd—" A hiccup jolted up his torso. "I won't hang myself."
"Do you promise?" Haruka asked, glaring.
"Pro— Promise." Hanataro slumped against her, drooling, then snoring. Out for the night. His spiritual pressure was weaker than the nearest souls in the town. He'd exhausted himself hosting clinic duty while also consoling Haruka.
Rukia rested her head on Ichigo's shoulder, patted his chest. "Same goes for you. Don't even think about it."
"Whaaat?"
"Don't even think about it, taking your own life."
Alcohol spoke for him: "You start sleeping around, I just might."
"Hmph. Hmph. Hmph. Hmph. Hmmmph. How dare you, Strawberry."
"How dare you. I'm not Strawberry. It's Number One Protector. Protector of your pussy."
"Number one jealous, Hollowfied, and now suicidal, boy." Her fist hammered his ribs. "I ate a real virginity pill for you, don't forget it."
"What?!" Haruka shouted.
"Yeeeaah," Rukia giggled. "You should've seen Lil-Shiro's face at the Captains' meeting. He wanted to fuck me right there."
Ichigo's elbow hit the wall. "Who's Lil-Shiro?"
"That's Cap-tain Hi-tsu-ga-ya to you, Strawberry." Rukia blew a raspberry. "The cutest little boy around."
Ichigo's mad laughter could break glass. "They made a little boy a captain?! What the hell is wrong with you people?! This is insane!"
"Say that to his faaace," Haruka slurred into her cup. "He'll put you in ice and cum all over your precious Rukia."
Ichigo wiped away tears, asking, "Can he even get it up? How old is he?"
"Around Hanataro's age," Haruka answered.
Looking at Hanataro, Ichigo saw the guy wasn't a little boy by any stretch. A young adolescent, but very clearly not a little boy. This meant Captain Lil-Shiro was even more of a pipsqueak, on the cusp of his teenage years. That had to be illegal. Yet Ichigo cared not, shrugged away their depraved civilization. "Whatever, Rukia's my Lieutenant. Little boy or not, Lil-Shiro isn't touching her. That's final!"
"Is this a duel in the making I hear?" Rukia asked.
"It is."
Rukia licked her lips. "Then you're going to watch me and a little boy go at it."
"Never." Ichigo drank Sake from the bottle, guzzled the fruity burn, and instantly regretted it. His brain churned. The room spun, the slit window orbiting his head, the crescent moon growing a mouth and laughing at him. The girls said something, but their voices were underwater. His eyes rolled upward. His skull hit the floor.
Bells and whistles howled.
Ichigo thought he was dreaming until oily and foul spiritual pressure began leaking through this office's Sekkiseki walls. He hauled himself up, saying, "I'll go get it. You guys can sleep."
Rukia grumbled something.
The pitch-black room swayed like a boat on stormy waves. But with sheer willpower steadying his sea legs, he grabbed his Zanpakutos. His palm thrust against the wall. A section descended into the ground, and he ran outside into a drizzle.
An overzealous Flash Step slammed him face-first into a post. A front tooth fell out. Blood filled his mouth. The pain did well to remedy his drunken stupor. He knelt, picked up his incisor, and put it in his pocket for good luck. His Hollow mother would dress up as a tooth fairy and take it away, exchange it for a thousand Yen note.
His gums bubbled, his tooth regrown.
Thank you, Hollow powers. He owed Tensa Zangetsu another one.
Speaking of Hollows, he was out here for a reason. He leaped into the air, and Flash Steps carried him southward to this town's wealthier parts. Screams were muffled under intensifying rain. When Ichigo arrived at the scene, his Shihakusho and Captains' Coat weighed more than fifty hippos. He burped, tasting sour stomach fluids and undigested Sake.
He announced, "Captain Pussy Protector on duty!" In his head, that had sounded much funnier.
"Help me!" a woman shouted.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll get to it," Ichigo said as a headache clamped him. He drew both swords.
The Hollow was house-sized. A big mask was shaped like a cartoon jellyfish drawn by an untalented child. Fat purple tentacles waved with joy, flailed helpless souls. One mangled boy lay on mud, unmoving, but alive despite those injuries; souls were amazingly durable.
"Cower under the might of Numb Chandelier!" The Hollow was female. She smashed a man against a wall, and limbs bent at odd angles. On her mask, two dozen bulbous protrusions were like beating hearts.
One bulb shot out.
Ichigo had watched enough dark tentacle Hentai with Keigo and Mizuiro to know where this was going. The bulb missed Ichigo's leg as he shuffled away. Spirit energy swelled in his arms and legs. Rain boiled off his face. His body was moving on its own, his inner spirits guiding him, horizontally slashing the Katana before vertically slashing the Wakizashi. A black arc joined together with a white line to form a lop-sided cross.
Numb Chandelier's shrieks were cut short as the cross stamped into her mask. Tentacles dissolved into dust then nothingness.
Bodies splashed.
Two, four, six, eight… fifteen were injured, though not too badly—some broken bones and superficial cuts. Flesh wounds. They could walk it off, except for that one old man with broken legs, who would have to crawl it off instead. Lucky for them, the downpour was cleaning their wounds. No infections. No headless bodies, incredulously. That Hollow had been playing with its food.
Ichigo clapped his hands. Job well done.
Back to the office.
"Wait. Please." That broken-legged old man was clawing through mud.
"Sorry, old man, but I don't know healing Kido."
"Don't go. Please. Captain!"
"You'll all be fine. Crawl it off. Hanataro will see you in the morning."
"My granddaughter," the old man cried. "She's in the house. She's lost a lot of blood. Please help her! I'll do anything!"
Squinting through rain, Ichigo cast out his spiritual sense. Oops, he had missed someone. Spiritual pressure was faint and dying. Inside the bedroom, blood on the floor reached Ichigo's chest. Well, not that much blood, but to him, it felt like it, because the young adolescent girl had a mix of Rukia and Karin's features. Wood splinters were impaled into her neck at the worst angle. Removing it would be fatal. Moving her at all was fatal.
Her heart was beating. She was a fighter.
Her eyes cracked open. She wheezed, "I don't want to die."
"You can still make it." His voice was gravelly. "Don't move, I'll get Hanataro. He's a healer. I'll be back in a minute."
"No, don't go."
"Why?"
"Just don't leave me." Every last muscle in her face trembled. Tears dripped. Blood squirted as she shifted, reached out to him.
He restrained her with a coffin of spiritual pressure, stemming blood loss. "I said don't move."
"Stay with me," she whispered.
Unsure of what to do, he held her hand and kept the conversation chugging along: "What's your name? I'm Ichigo Kursaki."
"Okimi Sano."
"Well, Okimi, I have to say I'm surprised you're still conscious. There's enough blood on the floor to feed a million leeches. We're going to have an infestation here."
The smallest of smiles brightened her gray eyes. "It's my ability."
"You mean…."
"Yes, I'm the same as you. Same as Haruka." A Hell Butterfly flew through the broken wall, landed on her chest. "I don't have a Zanpakuto. My family didn't want me to become a whore. They hid me from the Gotei. Words can't express my remorse for their actions and—"
"It's fine," Ichigo said, smirking. "So are you a virgin?"
Her eyes were agape. Not what she had expected. "I, um. No, I'm not."
"Figures," he breathed. "How did you lose it? You're pretty young. Did it hurt a lot?"
"Um, are we really talking about this?"
"Yeah. It's your duty."
"This isn't the time, you pervert." She glared, not as terrified anymore, courtesy of Captain Pussy Protector. "I can't hold on for much longer. Lend me your spirit energy before I die, Captain."
"That's the thing," he chuckled, reinforcing her pressure coffin as his hold was about to wane. "I would have by now if I knew how. You see I'm sort of a Captain in training." He was considering to offer an ounce of his own blood, but he didn't know if Auswahlen could save her now. She was already hurt, an arm-length from death's door.
Fortunately, Okimi instructed, "Stab your Zanpakuto through the bone that joins my ribs, into my heart. Let your spirit energy flow into me."
He slowly unsheathed his Katana. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I've seen it done."
"Brace yourself." He stabbed down. The instant steel pierced flesh, he flooded her with his power. Gold light blotted out the bedroom. Blood on the floor vaporized into red miasma, rushing back into her wounds. Wood in her neck crumbled away. Cuts sealed. Her healthy, strong heartbeat bumped in his Katana's handle. He pulled out, left no scar between her petite breasts.
She was hyperventilating. "Thank you. Thank you so much, Ichigo Kurosaki."
"Don't mention it." He patted her shoulder. "Back to important matters, how'd you lose your virginity? Was it rough or gentle? I can tell you like it very rough."
Her face wrinkled and twisted. "Are you really this fucking perv—"
"I'm joking. Have a good night. Talk to Haruka if you want to join the Gotei, otherwise I'm not going to rat out your family." Ichigo left it at that, Flash Stepping into a lessening drizzle.
A headache woke Ichigo. His three Shinigami friends were asleep, strewn about on the floor, cups and saucers lying around, Sake bottles empty. Red light shone through the window. Gazing into the dawn sun was sobering. He'd never drank this much alcohol before. His sisters would be disappointed.
One time, a few years back, the man who called himself Isshin Kurosaki had drank a few too many beers, and in his drunkenness had spilled a deluge of heartache over his deceased wife. The father-of-three had never shown that much raw emotion apart from that one night. Recalling this memory, Ichigo knew their family life had not been a lie. No, it hadn't been a lie in the slightest.
Rukia stirred awake, mumbling, "Where's my Chappy?"
"What's a Chappy?"
"A rabbit plushy." She rubbed her eyes. Lucidity slapped her straight. "How much did we drink?"
He counted. "Five and a half bottles."
"You drank at least three by yourself. How are you not throwing up?"
"Now that you say…." He swallowed. Steady breaths relieved his fading headache. "I'm okay. I'm okay."
"Ichigo."
"Yeah?"
"Last night, you said—"
"Forget about it. It was the Sake talking. Relax, no one's going to be hanging from anything, and I'd never do that to Hanataro."
Yawning, she massaged her eyes. "He might like to watch."
"Really?"
"I don't know, living as long as we do, our sex lives tend to get pretty boring sooner or later. One day you and I will develop… fetishes."
He didn't have anything to say to that. He changed the subject: "So what now?"
"About?"
"We stopped Kurogami's raid. I assume we don't have to stay here. I can't train with all the souls around."
Rukia flattened her snow-white hair. "You assume correctly. They responded to my report yesterday evening. My Captain ordered me to venture north, mostly a scouting mission. Once we asses the situation there, further deliberations will be taken."
A natural follow-up.
That attack force hadn't been the end of it. Tetsuo Kurogami's blight wasn't finished yet. Even this very moment, there were atrocities taking place out there on lawless land. Faces of those murdered girls reemerged in Ichigo's mind. Vile and pure hatred simmered.
Rukia squeezed his hand. "We'll head out after breakfast. Or are you fine with skipping?"
"Lead the way."
Author's Note: Maybe I'll do another Yushiro scene down the line, but that's going to be it for at least a long while.
Review Responses:
- Keigo's inner world will slowly be slowly explored. The water likely won't recede at this point; it's pretty much part of who he is now.
