The sounds of the diner faded into the background as Akira and Ryuji sat there in silence, staring at their phones. A loading wheel spun in their minds as both boys slowly processed who'd just texted the group chat. Blinking, they looked up and met each other's eyes.
"… Dude, what?!" The blond shrieked, earning a series of dirty glances from the diner's other patrons.
Heart racing, Akira started typing away.
Joker: Rukia? Is that really you?
Panther: RUKIA! you're back 3 3 3
Alibaba: code names
Snow: Code names! Honestly! It's barely been a week, and you're already slipping.
Skull: why does it matter? it's not like the cops can arrest you.
Joker: I'm sorry, I just really wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon.
Skull: how the fuck are you texting us? aren't you still in the soul society?
Snow: … Yes, obviously?
Snow: … You do realise that the entire purpose of a Denreishinki is to facilitate communication between the World of the Living and the World of the Dead, right?
Joker: I… suppose that's true?
Queen: Aren't there issues with time dilation when trying to communicate across realities, however?
Alibaba: yeah – its one of the reasons why my tech works better than the stuff in the SS
Snow: Sending simple texts is an entirely different matter from scrying multi-dimensional Reiatsu breaches.
Snow: Still, I'll admit if it wasn't for both Alibaba and Urahara's efforts, there'd probably be some lag between my messages.
Snow: He's been playing with some of her technology to develop more efficient ways of communicating between the worlds. Urahara and the Gotei 13 need to stay in close contact in order to properly monitor the Aizen situation, after all.
Snow: He upgraded my Denreishinki with his new findings as an apology for the Hōgyoku fiasco.
Akira nodded, mulling over her words. It was good to hear that the shopkeeper had upheld his promise – Urahara had almost gotten her killed, after all.
Queen: Irrespective of the how, it is good hearing from you again.
Alibaba: yeah – you didn't even say goodbye to me! you're tearing me apart, snow!
Panther: how are things going on your end? feeling any better?
Snow: My sincere apologies, Alibaba – I'll admit I wasn't in the best frame of mind when Renji and my brother came to retrieve me.
Snow: In regards to my health, I've been cleared to return to light duties!
Snow: My Reiryoku levels are almost fully restored, and I've been talking to Sode no Shirayuki again.
Skull: who now?
Something clicked in Akira's mind. While he'd never heard the name before, there was something familiar about it, and for the first time in a while, he could feel Tasogare no Dorobō shift in his inner world.
Joker: That's your Zanpakutō spirit, correct?
Snow: Indeed it is! I'll have to show her to you when we next meet. She's regarded as one of the most beautiful Shikai releases according to the Shinigami Women's Association polls!
Panther: aww, so that's where you got your codename from!
Akira smiled, vividly imagining the blush that would be spreading across Rukia's cheeks. As happy as the Shinigami's news made him feel, however, something uncomfortable buried its way into the teen's gut. He hadn't spoken a word to Tasogare no Dorobō since the Sōkyoku Hill.
(When the Hollow inside him leached its way into Akira's mind, it had been speaking with his Zanpakutō's voice.)
After gently riffing on Rukia for her codename for a little bit, the Phantoms moved on to more serious matters – namely, Aizen's war. Unfortunately, she'd received minimal news on that front. The only noteworthy update Rukia had was that Urahara didn't believe the Hōgyoku would awaken to its full potential until early winter. The Shinigami had to leave after that, unfortunately – apparently her break was nearing its end. With Rukia gone and the Hawaii situation sorted, one by one, the Phantoms hopped off their phones and went back to their daily lives. As Akira turned back to his empty plate, his stomach twisted. Logically, he knew he could spend another hour or two with Ryuji - the night was still young - however...
"Why don't we call it a day?" The blond sighed, sweeping a hand through his hair. "Don't get me wrong - it was great and all hearin' from Rukia again, but..."
Akira shot him a sympathetic smile. "You don't feel like goofing off after the news with Aizen."
God knows he didn't much feel like playing around either.
"Yeah." Ryuji nodded. "Going to the arcade or whatever feels so tacky when I know Rukia's gonna have some power-hungry nutjob invade her home."
"Don't worry – I get it. I'm worried too. Most of the Shinigami turned out to be alright people in the end, and I don't want them to get hurt."
The relief in Ryuji's eyes was clear. "Let's call a raincheck on this and hang out sometime when our heads are clearer, okay?"
"Sounds great." Akira grinned, before picking up his satchel and departing for Shibuya station.
As he walked down Central Street, crowds bustling by him, the frizzy-haired teen took in a deep breath of the warm autumn air. His prior dourness started to get swept away by the city's neon lights. Rukia had returned to his life - even if it was only via text for now - and that was something worth celebrating. In fact, while doubts still nipped at his heels like hungry dogs, Akira was beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel. Mishima's efforts had helped salvage the Phantoms' reputation, Sae was slowly but surely hunting down the White-Masked Killer's benefactor, Urahara and the Gotei 13 had come to an accord, and Rukia's powers had all but returned.
When he finally arrived back in Yongen-Jaya, Akira couldn't help but hum. Despite his previous indifference, a small trickle of excitement ran through him as he thought of Hawaii. Sunny beaches, warm winds, and the company of a good majority of his friends?
It sounded like bliss to him.
…..
As Makoto returned home with a stack of paperwork to complete and unfinished homework in her bag, she decided the Hawaii trip was beginning to sound like a bit of a nightmare, actually. Once school finished, she'd gone to the staffroom for debriefing, but an uncharacteristically chipper Kawakami had ended up ushering the third-years over to her classroom instead.
"Chouno is showing off her singing voice – trust me, we're better off on the other side of the building."
The second the student chaperones were seated, Kawakami immediately started handing out forms. She'd prepared class lists for each of the second-year homerooms and had highlighted the names of any potentially problematic students, along with those who had any allergies or other relevant medical conditions they'd shared with the staff. Makoto was mildly surprised that Kawakami had done such a thorough job - the student council president had been in her homeroom last year, and the Japanese teacher had always been somewhat disengaged.
Maybe she's made some lifestyle changes recently? Either way, Makoto wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
As she looked through classes 2-D and 2-E, Makoto winced when she saw Ryuji's name was highlighted in orange – aka, trouble – but was mildly surprised that Akira's name was completely blank.
The other volunteer, Ikesugi, shot Kawakami an inquisitive glance. "Hey – why isn't Kurusu on the troublemaker's list? Out of everyone, I thought he'd be the most hassle."
"Oh, no – Kurusu-kun is a model student. In fact, he's actually pretty good at corralling Sakamoto-kun…" Something odd flickered over Kawakami's face as she mentioned Ryuji. "On that note, I'll handle him. Sakamoto-kun shouldn't get up to anything too odd while we're overseas, hopefully…"
Makoto tilted her head, curious. Given that Ryuji wasn't even in her class, she was surprised about Kawakami's vehemence that she'd be the one to deal with the blond in the off-chance he got up to any mischief. Before she could make any enquiries though, the door suddenly swung open, and someone stumbled in.
"My sincerest apologies for being late!" Okumura Haru panted. "I got held up by an important phone call I simply had to take – I promise this won't happen again."
The student council president did a double-take as she saw who it was - she hadn't realised the fellow third-year had also been asked to chaperone. Gone were the elegant clothes and light touches of makeup Haru had worn in the restaurant with her fiancé – instead, she was wearing the Shujin gym uniform with the jacket partially unzipped, and had dirt smeared on her cheek. She seemed far more at home in her skin despite the disarray, however.
"Oh, hello again, Mako-chan!" Haru beamed as she noticed the student council president, and pulled out the spare chair next to her. "It's been too long."
"Um, it's a pleasure to see you again, Haru-san." Makoto blushed. Technically, Haru had given her permission to drop the honorifics, but she felt odd speaking to someone who was practically a total stranger so informally.
Haru giggled, a melodic, tinkling sound. "No need to be so formal, Mako-chan. You did help me out of a rather tight spot, after all."
As the other teenager's laughter died down, a frown crossed Makoto's face as she examined the girl. While she'd looked happy from a distance, now that they were in close quarters, the brunette could see slight discrepancies with Haru's appearance. Despite how hot the summer had been – and the dirt on her cheek clearly indicated she had no qualms about enjoying the outdoors – the other teen was oddly pale. Dark smudges indicative of more than one night's troubled sleep were branded under Haru's eyes, and while that wasn't odd in amongst itself, it was rare to see this early in the semester.
The memory of the day they'd met first rose to the surface of Makoto's mind, and a sense of unease blossomed within her. Despite Haru's politeness, friendliness, and warmth, she'd shown a distinct interest in letting her fiancé become Hollow bait. Makoto remembered being concerned at the time – the idea of someone her age being engaged was unnerving, especially when Haru clearly didn't like the man. Still, despite Makoto's offer, the other third-year had never followed up with her, and then quite frankly Makoto had forgotten all about it amidst the ruckus Rukia's arrest kicked up.
She was snapped out of her musings when Kawakami dumped another batch of documents down onto the desk. "No worries, Okumura-chan – we've only just started. Now, a few of the students have allergies, so you'll need to be prepared with a first aid kit, including an EpiPen…"
By the time Kawakami finished giving them an impromptu first-aid course, which was followed by a thorough rundown of the somewhat threadbare itinerary, it was almost 5 o'clock.
"I'm sorry." Haru gave them an apologetic smile as she rose to her feet. "My father needs me home soon for a business dinner – I'll review the notes as soon as I can."
Kawakami dismissed her with a wave. "No worries – we've gone through the most important things, anyway."
With a quick bow, Haru hurried away, and Makoto felt her stomach tighten. Still… there was a chance she was just being paranoid. Like she'd lamented earlier, Makoto didn't really know the other girl at all. Perhaps Haru had always been on the paler side, and for all Makoto knew, she might have suffered from insomnia for years.
As the brunette departed home, however, she promised herself that she would try to keep an eye on Haru, just in case.
…..
"No way – you seriously weren't excited?!" Ann gawped, jaw-dropping wide open.
The hum of the bus's engine droned in the background as Akira peeked over the seats, listening in on the girls' conversation. The Shujin Students had touched down in Hawaii an hour ago, the fluffy white clouds parting to reveal blue seas that glittered like sapphires and pale sandy beaches lining a palm-filled metropolis. The view had woken Akira right up, and while his brain was still feeling a bit fuzzy with jetlag, his spirits were high.
Makoto sighed, but as she looked out the window, it was with a smile. "I am here as a chaperone, not a student. I've spent the last several days going through countless liability forms and double-checking itineraries – it does suck some of the grandeur out of things."
"Don't worry." Ryuji chimed up. "If anyone gets in hurt, Akira can bail them out!"
"Whoa there." Akira laughed. "Don't get too excited. I can't do that much while stuck in my body, and I'm only gonna leave my corpse sprawled on the beach in a worst-case scenario."
Ann creased her brows, peering backwards. "You didn't bring Morgana?"
He shook his head. "No. I wasn't sure what his Soul Candy form would look like on the X-rays - I mean, a pill hidden in the mouth of a toy? That screams 'drugs'."
Makoto nodded, clearly finding his caution sensible.
Ryuji, meanwhile, gave Akira's shoulder a pat. "Eh, don't worry about it. Kawakami and I are… well, not tight, but we've got a truce going on. If you ever need to leave your body, she'll cover for us, no questions asked!"
"Why is that the case?" This time, it was the brunette's turn to look over her shoulder, expression curious. "When we were discussing any potential problem students, she said if you got up to anything, she'd handle it. I assumed she just didn't like you, but given what you've just said..."
Oddly enough, Ryuji cringed and looked away. "… Trust me, you don't wanna know. You really, really, don't wanna know."
Makoto exchanged a baffled glance with Akira, but it was clear Ryuji and Kawakami's past was going to remain shrouded in mystery for now.
Eventually, the bus trundled to a halt, and Makoto had to split up from the rest of the Phantoms to help sort everyone into their hotel rooms. That took a good chunk of the afternoon – by the time everyone was housed, there was no time to do anything other than briefly visit the beach. While they couldn't gambol in the Waikiki sands for long, Akira still had a blast – while Ann thought the beach was a bit sterile, he'd never seen anything so picturesque in his life.
Thankfully, Friday was a bit more active. They spent their morning on a bus tour that took them passed all the local landmarks, before getting dropped off at a museum. Kawakami attempted to explain the exhibits to the second-years, but given how many students there were it was hard to hear her, and Akira didn't have any of the sorely needed context to really understand the displays anyway. By the end of it, he and Ryuji were both dead on their feet, and the jetlag certainly didn't help.
A good lunchtime meal back at the resort perked them up a bit, and Akira was more than ready to engage in the next activity, until Makoto gave them an unfortunate announcement.
"Whaddya mean, we're not doing anything?" Ryuji groused, scuffing his feet on the hotel's gaudy carpet. "We're in freakin' Hawaii, for god's sake!"
The student council president – who'd been momentarily excused from her chaperone duties – winced. "Unfortunately, there wasn't enough time to coordinate that many activities. Kawakami-sensei pretty much had to book everything single-handedly – quite frankly, I'm surprised the trip wasn't cancelled."
Ryuji sighed morosely. "What the hell... this sucks."
Ann gave his shoulder a sympathetic pat, before something caught her eye and she peered across the hotel's lobby. "Hold on… is that Kitagawa-kun?!"
Akira's head snapped to the side, and he found himself blinking as the Kosei student suddenly materialised from nowhere. It had been months since Akira had set eyes on Kitagawa Yusuke – in fact, now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure if they'd actually even met in person. He'd been in his Shinigami form for most of their interactions.
Madarame's former student looked practically unchanged, except for the fact that he was wearing a crisp blue shirt instead of the Kosei winter uniform. "Ah, Takamaki-chan. Hello – it's been a while since your effervescent beauty has crossed my path."
"Effer what now?" Ryuji scrunched his nose.
"Sakamoto." The lanky teen nodded politely. "It's been a while since your bold gregariousness has crossed my path."
"Gregor what now?" Ryuji scrunched his nose even further.
Makoto also looked confused, but for an entirely different reason. "I'm sorry, but I don't think we've met. Are you another second-year student…?"
Ann shook her head. "This is Kitagawa Yusuke – Madarame's former pupil. I did some modelling for him a while back."
The student council president's eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh, I see. I'm Niijima Makoto, a Shujin third-year. I'm helping chaperone our Hawaii trip." Curiosity glimmered in her eyes. "I wasn't aware Kosei was planning to come here for their school trip."
Kitagawa shook his head. "We were meant to go to Los Angeles, but they apparently couldn't land the plane due to a terrible storm brewing on the west coast. There were no signs of it letting up, so our destination was spontaneously changed to Hawaii."
Ryuji snapped his fingers. "Hey, that means you don't have anything to do either! Wanna hang out with us? I was thinking we could go to the mall or somethin' – I've gotta pick up some souvenirs for mum."
"Ooh, that's a great idea!" Ann gasped. "We should get something for Futaba, Ishida, and Morgana too!"
"I'm gonna give Sojiro a shitty fake lei." Akira decided. "He'll probably find it funny."
Makoto stroked her chin. "Maybe I should get something for Sae…" She then grimaced. "Or maybe not. Souvenir shops can be a bit tacky, after all."
"Get her a shitty fake lei." The frizzy-haired teen grinned. "I'll find it funny."
"I was hoping to pick up some mementos to help keep my artistic juices flowing even once I've departed these fair lands…" Kitagawa mused, oblivious to the way Makoto rolled her eyes in the background. Eventually, he gave the group a solemn nod. "Very well. I will accompany you on this journey."
Ryuji's spontaneous invitation turned out spectacularly. Kitagawa was fascinatingly eccentric, and Akira was absolutely enthralled by the bizarre directions the artist's mind went. After they ended up posing like Jesus Christ in the middle of a fountain – garnering a lot of strange looks from the locals and embarrassing Makoto to no end – the Kosei student upgraded from Kitagawa to simply Yusuke.
After a solid shopping spree – Akira picking up that lei for Sojiro, and failing to convince Makoto to get one for Sae – the teens grabbed some snacks from the convenience store and strolled to the beach. A pleasant breeze flowed through the swaying palms as light and shadow danced over the silky sands. The sun was warm and waters inviting, but alas, none of them had brought their swimwear. Instead, the eclectic group settled into the shade and began to chow down on the food they'd brought.
"Is it just me, or are things saltier here?" Ryuji mused, crunching into an unfamiliar brand of chip.
"Maybe it's the sea air – what you smell affects what you taste, right?" Ann lay flat on her stomach, propping her head up in her hands as she idly swung her legs.
Yusuke held up a chip, examining it like it held the secrets of the cosmos. "A crunchy delight, and yet one so lacking in true substance... a fascinating duality. Perhaps the experience could be inspiration for an interesting piece…"
Both Ryuji and Makoto looked utterly mystified by the artist's statement, but Akira nodded along, vaguely understanding what the boy was getting at. Well, at least he thought he did, anyway. Yusuke was a bit of an enigma.
Ann's expression grew more serious. "How is the art going? Now that Madarame can't steal your pieces anymore, I mean."
Yusuke rubbed his chin, something wistful entering his dark eyes. "I will admit it has not been an untroubled path – even though Madarame is gone from my life, his actions linger like a spectre. To know that the man who raised me was capable of such darkness… it makes the world seem a colder place, brimming with so much ugliness under its pleasant façade." At Ann's pitying expression, he shrugged. "Still, sometimes, I can even find beauty in that. After all, it is the starkness of a desert that grants them their grandeur."
Akira stared out over the crashing waves. He didn't think he agreed with Yusuke. To him, deserts just felt bleak.
…..
Makoto and the rest of the Phantoms hung out with the rather unconventional Kosei student until the sun started to set, and they needed to return to their respective school groups. By the time the student council president made her way back to her hotel room, she was shattered. Who knew that being social would be so tiring?
"Oh, Mako-chan." Haru perked up as she entered their shared suite. "How was your day?"
Her fellow third-year had perched herself onto the couch and was idly flicking through a fashion magazine. Judging by how far Haru was through it, she'd probably been back for a while.
"Exhausting." Makoto admitted, half-tempted to throw herself straight down on her bed. Still, she managed to restrain herself – she didn't want to get sunscreen all over the sheets, after all. "But fun. How was yours?"
While Makoto was genuinely curious about the answer, she admittedly also had ulterior motives. The student council president had offered to room with Haru partially to keep the allocation process simple, and partially so she could keep an eye on her classmate. Between marshalling the students and hanging out with her friends, however, she hadn't done much of the latter – now was a chance to rectify that.
Haru's eyes flickered open as if she was surprised to be asked. "Oh, it was perfectly pleasant. I spent most of the afternoon looking at some of the local flora – the palms here look like they've come straight out of the movies." Her expression grew wistful. "You spent your free time with your friends, correct?"
The brunette nodded. "Yes – we met up with an acquaintance from Kosei, then went to the mall to get some souvenirs." Makoto then shook her head in exasperated amusement. "Akira kept trying to cajole me into getting some tacky gifts for my sister, despite knowing full well she'd hate them."
"It sounds like you had a good afternoon." Haru giggled, but the smile quickly dropped off her face, replaced with something far more melancholy.
Oh. She's feeling lonely. Makoto realised with a pang of sympathy, followed by a trickle of guilt. She'd been that girl not too long ago – she always had civil relationships with her classmates, but wasn't close enough to any of them to call them her friends. The brunette should have realised Haru was in the same position. Liked by all, cared for by none.
"Would you like to join us tomorrow?" The student council president offered.
If Haru had been caught off guard when Makoto asked her about her day, it was nothing compared to the shock that flashed across her face at that moment. "O-oh, that's okay." Her cheeks reddened, flustered. "I'm assuming they're all, well, you know what. I wouldn't want to intrude on your... private business."
Makoto frowned, tilting her head – Haru was clearly talking about their Phantoms work. Still, no one had any problems with Kitagawa joining them, and unlike Haru, he didn't even have the faintest clue who they were.
"How about I ask them then?" She decided to compromise, opening up her phone. "I'm sure they won't mind though. Kitagawa-kun isn't involved in that business, either."
Queen: Would everyone be alright if I invited one of the other third-years to join us tomorrow?
Queen: Her name is Okumura Haru – I helped her during the Hollow bait debacle.
Queen: She doesn't have any friends here, and I don't want to leave her on her own.
Panther: of course! we can tan on the beach together!
Skull: what, that's boring! i wanna go swimming!
Joker: No Skull, you want to pick up girls with Mishima.
Joker: And me, but that's not happening.
Joker: Queen I think the consensus is that we're all fine with it.
Joker: Looking forward to meeting your friend!
As Makoto stashed away her phone, she couldn't help but smile. "As expected – they'd be more than happy for you to join us."
"… If that's the case, then I look forward to making some summer memories with you, Mako-chan!" Haru returned her grin, eyes shining in delight. She then leant forward, reducing her voice to a hushed whisper. "If I may ask… what's it like, being a Phantom? What do those monsters have to do with Kamoshida and his ilk?"
"I don't think you need to whisper – it's not like anyone can overhear us." Makoto pointed out, before mulling things over.
Haru had partially perceived a Hollow before, and had put the dots together about Makoto's identity to boot. Still, the brunette couldn't exactly tell her everything – even if it seemed like Haru approved of their activities, they were still breaking the law, and that wasn't even getting into the fact that the mastermind behind the Vanishing Incidents was out for their blood. Plus, there was a reason the Shinigami prevented the living from knowing what happened after death. Sae's tale had proven just how dangerous a Hollow who knew everything about the inner workings of the spiritual world could be.
In the end, she decided to give Haru an abridged version of their activities.
"They're not connected, not really. I suppose we have two main duties – the primary one is protecting people from monsters like the one you saw. Still, those monsters can't normally be perceived by the human eye, so most people don't know we do that." Makoto stroked her chin. "In regards to our activities you're more familiar with, a side effect of our powers is that sometimes we discover things about people – things that can't be proven in a mundane way. It's only then that we act against a target. Still, one day in the future, I'm hoping that won't be necessary."
"Really?" Haru widened her eyes.
She nodded. "My goal in life is to reform the justice system. I want to stop people getting away with crimes simply because they're rich or famous, like Kamoshida and Madarame. I want to make it so suspects are treated humanely, and aren't condemned for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time, like Akira. I want to make it so justice is… well, just."
"Wow – you've really thought about this, haven't you?" Haru's brows rose, before she let out a giggle. "That's so you, Mako-chan!"
"What about you, Haru-san?" Makoto sat up, her prior tiredness sloughing away. "Do you have any dreams for the future?"
"I'll probably just end up assisting my family's business." The dainty girl sighed. "Still… If I could choose any future I wanted… I'd love to run a café. Nothing fancy – just a small place that could bring a smile to people's faces." Her expression grew dreamy. "That's one of the reasons I love growing my own vegetables – so they can spread the love I put into them to the people that eat them."
"So, you like gardening, I take it?" Makoto asked, and the two girls ended up talking into the middle of the night.
…..
"You've been avoiding me."
The voice echoed, low and menacing, and Akira jolted upright, sweat dripping down his brow. He was no longer lying in his bedroom in Hawaii, soft sheets draped over his body as a gentle breeze fluttered the hotel room's curtains. Instead, his clothes were coarse and scratchy and his wrists heavy, the thick metal cuffs binding them together chafing his skin. Endless shades of blue surrounded him like he was at the bottom of the ocean, and the velvet tiles of his cell were chipped, mould growing between the bricks' gaps. Meanwhile, the air was so thick with dampness, he could taste it on his tongue.
"… Tasogare?" He murmured, brain still foggy with sleep yet cognizant enough to recognise his inner world.
Ominous laughter rattled through the prison, and the hair on Akira's nape rose. Standing up, he warily staggered towards the metal grate door that separated him from his spirit - for the first time ever, the bars came as a relief. Tasogare no Dorobō's head was slumped, his theatrical top hat obscuring his face. Tilting his head, the teen's fingers touched frigid metal as he leaned in closer, and as if sensing his Shinigami's presence, the spirit's head suddenly snapped upwards. Akira reeled backwards, heart hammering in shock.
The once-black mask covering his Zanpakutō's face had been bleached an awful shade of bone white.
"… What? Don't like what you see?" Tasogare no Dorobō's voice was mocking, and while Akira's blade had always been teasing, he'd never heard the spirit's voice so full of disdain. "This is the justice you chose, Akira."
Suddenly, the winged man rose, and in a split second, he cleared the space between the warden's table and the cell door.
"ARE YOU TRULY TOO COWARDLY TO EVEN LOOK ME IN THE EYES?!"
"… No." Akira gulped, rising from where he'd fallen over onto his ass. Tasogare no Dorobō's anger was justified – it was Akira's fault he'd been reduced to this state. If he'd only been stronger, faster… none of this would have happened. Straightening his shoulders, he met the Hollow's eyes. They burned with a golden fire, but there was no heat in them, only a blistering, icy cold.
"There, that's better." Tasogare no Dorobō returned to his usual indolent pose. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
Akira clenched his fists, stomach rolling with tension. There was no point asking the Zanpakutō if they could fix this – that ship had sailed long ago. Instead, he had a different question. "How do we stop this getting worse?"
"Stop this? Don't be naïve, Akira." The Hollow laughed. "I've only just gotten started."
…..
Akira's eyes snapped open and he half-jumped out of his bed, heart pounding in his chest as his Reiatsu wavered erratically. It took him half a second to realise he was back in his hotel room. Adrenaline fading, he flumped down in his sheets and glanced at the alarm clock. It was 5:37. Akira knew then and there that he wasn't getting any more sleep.
Thankfully, he was rooming with Mishima instead Ryuji – even the blond had enough spiritual sensitivity to notice Akira's nightmare. Meanwhile, Mishima slept on, lost in his own dreams. Upon determining his roommate was truly dead to the world, Akira slunk into the bathroom and had a quick shower with depressingly low water pressure. He didn't want to make any more noise than necessary, for obvious reasons. By the time he was done, the clock read 5:53, and Akira bunkered down for what would be a rather boring couple of hours.
By the time everyone met up for the walking tour they were going on this morning, Akira felt like a zombie. Luckily, Ryuji and Ann didn't pester him as to why. The tour itself was as boring as hell, not helped by the fact it was pretty much just a repeat of the one they'd gone on yesterday. They probably just assumed that was why Akira was struggling to stay on his feet.
"Finally!" Ryuji cheered after Kawakami dismissed them for the afternoon. "We're free!"
"Yeah – let's meet up with the others!" Ann beamed.
Akira forced his lips into a smile, but while his friends chattered away as they walked to where they'd planned to meet the others, he found himself slipping behind. Tinges of blue seeped into his vision as his confrontation with his Zanpakutō played on repeat in his mind. No – stop ruminating on it. My Reiatsu is normal, and nothing's happened. All I'm going to do is make myself stressed.
It didn't take long for them to find Makoto and Haru. The other third-year turned out to be a short girl with fluffy, curly hair, who was wearing her gym uniform's jumper over a dainty purple dress. Akira gave her a muted hello, hoping she wouldn't blame herself for his less-than-chipper mood. After a quick round of introductions, they decided to grab some lunch before heading back to Waikiki.
"How about Big Bang Burger?" Ryuji suggested. "It's cheap, and I'm kinda running low on cash."
Haru's eyes widened, before a slight blush formed on the third-year's face. "Ah – sorry to be a bother, but may we go somewhere else? I'm not sure if I'm hungry enough to eat something so heavy…"
Ann scratched her chin, mulling things over. "Good point – if we're going to go swimming later, we probably want a light lunch."
"Why don't we find somewhere more local?" Makoto suggested. "We are in Hawaii after all – it would be nice to enjoy something we don't have at home."
"Y'know, that's a great idea!" Ryuji pumped a fist in the air. "This whole time we've pretty much just been doing the same old shit we do in Japan!"
Ann sighed, shaking her head. "And yet, you were the one to suggest Big Bang Burger…"
In the end, they stopped at a small restaurant that specialised in a noodle dish called saimin – ironically enough, it ended up being eerily similar to the ramen they'd normally scarf down back at home. Sorry, Ryuji – I guess not every vacation can be a winner. As they enjoyed their meal, most of the Phantoms' attention turned to the guest of honour – Okumura Haru. As they chatted to the girl, Akira genuinely attempted to pay attention. However, no matter how badly he tried to focus on the conversation, he couldn't snap himself out of his funk. His grogginess made it hard to focus, and whenever Akira's mind slipped away, Tasogare no Dorobō's words echoed in his ears.
Clenching his fists, Akira attempted to quell the churning in his stomach, his lunch half-forgotten. The devilish desperado who'd responded to Akira's desperate desire to save his friends was gone, usurped by a callous monster who would destroy those aforementioned friends without a moment's hesitation if it would help it quell its righteous fury.
And it was all his fault.
Despite his trouble paying attention to the world around him, Akira was cognizant enough to notice he wasn't the only person sitting at the table who seemed troubled. While Haru humoured the Phantoms' questions with grace, her answers were short and evasive, and even though she smiled and laughed along with everyone else, she never quite let down her guard. Oh, she was definitely skilled at putting up a happy façade, alright, but Akira could see right through it.
I guess that shouldn't be a surprise – it takes one to know one, after all.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm ready for some lovely blue seas!" Ann chimed, twirling on the spot as they left the restaurant.
Makoto nodded. "Some exercise would be good – I've been rather slack the last few days."
"Heheheh!" Ryuji grinned. "Well, I'm gonna make some summer memories of my own! If my twig of a roommate can get a date, so can I! Coming, Akira?"
Ann rolled her eyes. "Ryuji, he literally said he wasn't interested last night. Akira is too cool for that!" She then turned to face him. "You're going to join us, right?"
Truthfully, attempting to chat up foreign woman or going on a Makoto-approved swimming session both sounded equally unappealing at that moment.
"Honestly, I'm feeling kinda pooped." Akira laughed, scratching the back of his head. "I think I'm just gonna lay down in the shade for a bit."
The smile dropped off Ryuji's face, and Ann's expression turned concerned. "Are you sure? I know jetlag sucks, but this is our last day here. You might regret it if you miss out on something..."
"That's alright." He shook his head. "I managed to spend some time on the beach earlier. Besides, resting on the sands is pretty special, too."
"I might join you, actually." Haru commented, and he arched a brow in surprise. "I'm not much of a swimmer, and, well, I'm certainly not the 'summer memory' type of girl either. My apologies, Ryuji-kun!" She must have then noticed the surprise on Akira's face, as her smile faltered. "… as long as I wouldn't be imposing on you, of course."
The frizzy-haired teen shook his head. "No, no, that's fine."
Haru's expression softened, and as the other girls retreated to the water while Ryuji ran off to rope Mishima into his shenanigans, they laid down in the palms' shade. While Akira didn't drift into a true sleep, the simple act of closing his eyes and letting his brain shut off for a while refreshed him a bit anyway. Eventually, after what could have been either ten minutes or an hour, he felt some energy return, and Akira sat up, stretching. Muscles relaxed, he shook the sand from his hair, only to freeze when he saw Haru watching him.
"… Forgive me if this is too personal a question, but is everything alright?" She frowned, brows furrowed. "You seemed a bit distracted earlier."
For a moment, Akira hesitated. Perhaps it was because he felt bad about how distant he had acted earlier, or perhaps it was because she was a stranger who held no expectations for him, but in the end, he found himself replying. "Yeah, sorry about that. I had a rough night's sleep – nightmares."
Haru remained quiet as she digested his words. "… Would you like to talk about it? Even if it doesn't solve your problems, sometimes just getting things off your chest can make them feel lighter."
He mulled her offer over. While Akira wasn't the sort of overly macho guy who stubbornly refused to show even a moment's vulnerability, he tried to maintain certain standards around the other Phantoms. He was both their friend and leader – he wanted them to think he was strong, reliable, and had no intention of burdening them with problems they wouldn't be able to solve. Still, Haru wasn't a Phantom, and had no expectations for him whatsoever. Maybe she wouldn't be a bad sounding board, after all.
"I can't give you the full details, but… something bad happened over summer break." Akira folded his hands together, staring up at the cloudless blue sky. "I lost control of myself and ended up hurting a friend. He was okay in the end, but…" He clenched his fist. "I'm worried it's going to happen again. And this time, whoever ends up in my way might not get out unscathed."
As he finished his spiel, Akira's guts twisted. He wasn't sure if voicing his fears had made him feel better, or simply just made them feel all the more real.
Haru didn't reply immediately – instead, she pondered over his words, hair swaying in the gentle breeze. "I think that's a good sign – that you're worried, I mean. You'll be paying more attention to your actions now, and if you notice any warning signs, you'll hopefully be able to address things before they end up escalating."
He nodded, frowning. It was much the same as the advice Wakaba had given him – as long as he was careful, the Hollow was unlikely to further its grip, no matter what Tasogare no Dorobō said.
"Thanks." He then arched a brow. "What about you?"
"P-pardon?" Haru stammered, eyes as wide as saucers.
Akira shrugged. "You're good at hiding it, but I can tell I'm not the only one with something on their mind."
She looked away, a wan smile crossing her face. "You truly are observant, Akira-kun. There's… there's a man my father wants me to marry. His connections will help my father's business a lot, but truthfully, I can't say I'm looking forward to it. I find Sugimura's personality… grating."
He sat upright, blinking owlishly at Haru's admission. She was engaged? The concept was utterly baffling to him – the idea of even getting to second base was foreign enough, let alone having a whole-ass wedding. Sure, Haru was a bit older than him, but not by that much.
"Why don't you just say no?" Concern bubbled into Akira's stomach as a grim thought crossed his mind. "… Your father would cancel the arrangement if he knew you were unhappy with it, right?"
Haru hesitated for a moment, but ended up giving him a slow nod. "He might. Still, I know he'd be terribly disappointed. There's a venture close to his heart he won't be able to embark on without the Sugimuras' support."
Something suddenly clicked in Akira's mind. Wait... Okumura. That's the name of the CEO who people are posting about on the Phansite, right? At least half a dozen people had complained about his scummy business practices that barely bordered on legal. When he put together the facts – Haru's insistence on using her first name, her disdain for Big Bang Burger, and now this, it all made sense. Haru was his daughter.
Akira mulled things over, images of Futaba and Sojiro floating to the surface of his mind. While his impressions of Okumura senior weren't exactly positive so far, it wasn't like he knew the man, and knew better than to take a bunch of evidenceless posts on the internet at their word. Haru obviously wanted to make her father happy, so was probably a pleasant enough person, even if he was a cog in a very nasty machine.
"Honestly, it might be worth talking to him about it anyway. I think most parents would choose their child's happiness over their financial success." He quickly backpedalled as he saw Haru flinch. "Still, if you're determined to go ahead with it, maybe you could wait a year or two, divorce the guy, and then milk him for all he's worth?"
A startled laugh burst from Haru's throat. "I don't think I'll take that particular nugget of advice, but thank you, anyway." Her smile grew more genuine, and peering over towards the ocean, she rose to her feet. "Ah – I think Ann-chan and Mako-chan have moved into the shallows. I might join them – would you like to come?"
He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "Nah – I think I might try and have a proper nap. Maybe when you're all done, we can grab a drink together? Ryuji will probably want to vent about his romantic woes to someone."
Haru giggled, then stretched. "That sounds wonderful. I'll see you later, Akira-kun!"
She arched her back, raising an arm into the air as she loosened the knots from her muscles, and the sleeve of Haru gym jumper slipped down. Akira was about to close his eyes, when an odd splotch of colour caught his eye. As it looked at it more closely, he froze. There was a hand-shaped mark several inches below Haru's wrist. Ice ran through his veins, and every hair on the back of his neck prickled in shock, but before he could even open his mouth the heiress had rushed off to join the others.
Still feeling far too cold for such a warm day, Akira remained rooted to the ground, barely able to process what he'd just seen. Suddenly, the dumb joke he made about Haru's fiancé sat in his stomach like a lead balloon.
He needed to talk to Makoto.
…..
In sharp contrast to the blistering summer sun that blazed down on Hawaii, in the World of the Dead it was the middle of the night. Despite the pleasant autumn breeze that cut through the air, the Seireitei's streets – which would normally be a hub of activity now that the workday was finished – were all but deserted. While wartime restrictions had been instated during the Ryoka Invasion, the Captain Commander hadn't ordered a curfew until after Aizen revealed his treachery. All officers were to remain in their barracks unless they were specifically on patrol – peacetime was over, and with it, so were the idle days the Gotei 13 had gotten used to.
Mind you, Zaraki Kenpachi didn't give a shit about any of that.
"Where are we going?" He grunted, casting his eyes down at his fellow Captain.
Unohana had rendezvoused with him at the 11th. Her pansy-ass Division would have a panic attack if Kenpachi even stepped within two steps of the place, and she'd refused to meet him at whatever destination she'd chosen for their training, claiming that he'd just get lost. She was probably right, but it still pissed him off.
She shrugged, not even bothering to glance in his direction. "You'll see."
Kenpachi scowled but didn't bother complaining. Quite frankly, given how many good fighting years he'd pissed down the drain, he could understand why Unohana treated him like something nasty that she'd stepped on.
Eventually, the duo slipped out of shunpo, and the 11th Division Captain couldn't help but squint as he saw their destination.
"The Senzaikyū? Really?" He arched a brow as he followed Unohana across the bridge leading into the cell.
Kenpachi would happily admit he'd never paid much attention to the Seireitei's history - or anything else that wasn't fighting, really - but even he knew the place was meant to be made out of Sekkisekki. Sure enough, the second they crossed the cell's threshold, an invisible weight settled over his shoulders, and his Reiatsu was muffled like flame smothered by a cloth. Kenpachi resisted a shudder – he was man enough not to whine about it, but the sensation was fucking nasty.
"Humour me." Unohana smiled.
There was a savage lilt to her lips that she never would have shown while keeping up her kindly healer act, and if Kenpachi was a lesser man, his heart would have skipped a beat. Instead, he just grinned.
Moving to the opposite end of the empty hall, Unohana unsheathed her Zanpakutō and fluidly slipped into a vaguely familiar stance. She arched a brow at him, and cursing internally, Kenpachi quickly mirrored her movements, ignoring how odd it felt to wield his sword with both hands.
She didn't announce the start of the duel – instead, Unohana launched herself at him with speeds he could barely track, stabbing her blade towards his chest. Kenpachi felt like he was moving through water as deflected the blow, his stance still feeling completely off. Her sword slipped to the side as he parried it, biting into his bicep instead of his lung, and Kenpachi felt his heart rate begin to increase. A feral grin crossed his face - maybe this shit would be fun after all.
He deflected her next few strikes with enough power to send the woman's blade bouncing backwards. The second he saw an opening, he struck without hesitation, sweeping his sword at Unohana's torso – if she didn't dodge, she'd be sliced in two. The ghost of a smile she'd been wearing faded, however, and Kenpachi should have realised then that he'd fucked up. His mind could barely keep up with Unohana's movements as she hooked her blade around his and twisted, tearing Kenpachi's Zanpakutō straight from his hands. Cursing, he lunged towards his fallen sword, but the Captain was too late.
Unohana embedded Minazuki into his guts, and Kenpachi's vision faded to black.
…..
It felt less like fainting, and more like blinking then suddenly finding yourself in a whole new position and location. Brows furrowed, Kenpachi blinked as he saw the night sky. Sitting up with a grunt, he was greeted with a wide expanse of jack fucking shit – Unohana must have dragged him to the Sōkyoku Hill in order to heal him. Speaking of the devil, she was standing not too far away, watching the stars with an unreadable expression on her face.
"So. Round two?" Kenpachi grinned, leaping to his feet. Round one was a disaster, but things were only going to get better from here.
Unohana shook her head, and a pang of disappointment ran through him. "Not tonight. Tell me, do you know why I chose the Senzaikyū yet?"
Kenpachi scrunched his brow. "So the old man doesn't notice us?" It wasn't like he gave a shit if Yamamoto caught on to them, but Unohana liked to pretend that she cared about stupid things like following the rules.
"No, but that is a beneficial side effect." The other Captain shrugged. "It's simple – height, reach, muscle mass… while they matter little when Reiryoku is in play, if you remove that, they are what determines a battle's outcome. By virtue of gender alone, you have the advantage over me in each of those areas."
He frowned. "But you kicked my ass."
"Exactly. Because while you dominate me in terms of height, range, and raw power, there is one more factor that decides who wins and who loses. One I didn't mention, and the sole advantage I hold over you."
While he normally didn't care for lectures, Kenpachi still found himself curious. "Yeah?"
While her lips curled upwards, he wouldn't exactly call Unohana's expression a smile. "There is a reason I was given the title Kenpachi Yachiru - master of eight thousand styles. The final factor is skill." Her face grew more serious. "With your prodigious amounts of Reiatsu, it's something you've never needed to learn. As you do not need to dodge or parry, your instincts atrophy. Your stance is weak, as with a mere flick of your wrist, you can fell most Shinigami. That is why I chose the Senzaikyū. Without your Reiatsu as a crutch, you will learn how to fight, instead of simply being strong. If you learn these skills... you will finally have the strength to truly claim the title of Kenpachi."
As she concluded her speech, his excitement skyrocketed. "… You sure we can't go for round two?"
…..
As dawn broke in the Seireitei, Kurusu Rukia wiped the sweat from her brow. The two Kenpachis weren't the only Shinigami training, though the unseated officer's current bout involved far less cloak and dagger. She'd gone to the 13th's training grounds in the early hours of the morning to work on her admittedly lacklustre swordsmanship. After her time with Akira, she'd learnt the value of having a diverse skillset - even if she'd never be a master, she should at least be up to par. Rukia had been in the midst of practising her katas when Kiyone and Sentarō bumbled into the grounds. Upon seeing what Rukia was doing, the former had enthusiastically offered herself up for a spar.
"Kidō is more my thing as well, but I can't let myself get weaker than this goober over here!" Kiyone jutted a thumb towards Sentarō, and he rounded on her, squawking.
"Me? Weak? Don't make me laugh – I could kick your ass any day!"
"No, you couldn't!"
"Yes, I could!"
Rukia rolled her eyes, unsure whether to be amused or exasperated by the dual Third Seats' ridiculous squabbling. Kaien had introduced them to her when he'd been alive, and while they'd always been kind, Kiyone and Sentarō were more his friends than hers. She'd barely seen them since his death… but then again, that was more her fault than theirs. Now that she thought about it, they'd likely reached out their hands, and she'd rejected them at every turn. Why not change that?
"I'd love to." Rukia spoke up, interrupting the duo before their argument could escalate into a full-blown fight. She then turned to Sentarō – if she didn't placate him too, Kiyone's eternal rival would be distraught. "Why don't you referee, and if I have the energy afterwards, we can go for a round?"
The goateed man beamed, resting his hands on his hips. "A good idea Kuchi- uh, Kurusu!"
She ignored the slip-up – truthfully, Rukia was still getting used to her new familial name herself. It had barely been a week since she'd officially renounced her position in the Kuchiki Clan. Some of the branch families had huffed about her turning her back on them after they'd deigned to take her into their ranks, but Ginrei had accepted her decision with grace, wishing her all the best. She'd handed in her official name change application to the 1st that very afternoon, which the clerk had signed without batting an eye.
As the women grabbed some training bokken and began their clash, Rukia had no time to continue ruminating. While Kiyone hit harder and was far more relentless with her offence than Rukia was, compared to Renji, the Third Seat was child's play. All she had to do was hold out until Kiyone's energy began to flag, and then launch her counterstrike. While the mousy-haired Shinigami managed to get a couple of solid blows in – Rukia knew she'd be aching tomorrow – in the end, the unseated officer parried her swing, staggered the other Shinigami with a solid strike to her ribs, and then placed her false blade on her opponent's neck.
"Yield?" She suggested.
Kiyone nodded, panting. "Yeah. Good going, Kurusu! You've been practising – did your human friend take you on a Zanjustu boot camp or something?"
"No, nothing like that." Rukia laughed. Akira wasn't a bad swordsman by any means, but she'd never actually sparred with the teen in her life. "I've been practising with Renji lately – not frequently, mind you, given how busy he is with the 6th, but…"
"Wait, you've been getting tutoring from a Captain?" Kiyone pouted, letting out an exaggerated huff. "No fair – I want Captain Ukitake to train with me!"
Sentarō sighed dreamily. "I want him to train with me too."
"Hm? What was that?" A new voice echoed across the clearing, and all three Shinigami practically jumped out of their skin as Ukitake himself strode across the training ground's torn-dirt floor.
"Uh, nothing!" Sentarō wheezed, cheeks glowing bright red.
"Yeah, absolutely nothing!" Kiyone frantically nodded, equally as embarrassed as her counterpart.
Ukitake laughed, and if he'd overheard their earlier comments, he had the grace not to point it out. "Very well then. Rukia-chan, is it okay if we have a word?"
Blinking, Rukia gave her Captain a hesitant nod. As much as she liked the man, it had been her connections to Kaien and Byakuya that had tied her to him. Now that they were gone, she was just a run-of-the-mill unseated officer – what on earth would Ukitake possibly need with her?