Interlude
Part #1: A Scheming She-Devil
Boring…
The halls of Silbern were the same as always. Unchanged, with its pristine icy sheen and stainless floors, if one were to take a stroll, they would be suffocated by an atmosphere of pure hatred. Combined with the endless deluge of military drills and exercises, the palace was practically devoid of save the most basic amenities.
It was to be expected really…
The latest conflict with the Shinigami was still a recent memory, one that had been etched deeply into their souls. Friends, family, lovers~ everyone had lost something precious in the last war. Everyone held bitterness and spite.
Nee-san…
Clenching her teeth, the woman lowered her cap, her fists tightening. She had already sworn vengeance decades ago, to slaughter the Shinigami, to gleefully watch as their cherished Seireitei fell into flames. They had destroyed her home and it would be poetic justice to return the favor.
Continuing her promenade, the woman switched thoughts to her newest discovery. Recalling the memory of the petite fox Hollow who had retained his rotten attitude and intelligence, she giggled lightly. Most hollows his level were raving beasts and the Menos classes were barely better: an unholy combination of cunning and bestial brutality. Yet there he was, a newborn Hollow with less than a dozen consumed souls capable of injuring and outsmarting a seated-level Shinigami.
Granted, the one in question was a muscle head but it was still impressive.
Concealing an amused smile behind her fingertips, the woman walks on, unperturbed by the lingering gazes of desire and envy from her comrades.
She was here.
Halting her footsteps, she stands still, taking a moment to admire the giant chrome gate in front of her. Tracing the 5 pointed cross on her cap as she stares, mesmerized by the larger version engraved before her, she enters.
It's dark, she notices, making her way to the sole source of illumination; a dimly lit throne with a turquoise haze. Picking up the pace, it isn't long before she can make out the sole figure sitting, his golden hair and azure eyes holding a dignified regalness.
Lowering her head respectfully, she starts.
"Ju-chan" she looks up, putting on a playful grin, "And here I thought you were getting bored of little ol' me."
"Your report." The man responds calmly, his stoic expression unfazed, though, for a split second, she swears she catches a hint of annoyance.
"Oh don't be so serious all the time!" she sighs disappointedly, "The trip was uneventful. The Shinigami aren't nearly as proactive in the World of the Living as they used to be."
"Elaborate" the man answers, leaning forward from his seat.
"Aside from the ongoing war zones and the Jūreichi in Karakura Town, our dear friends are strangely absent. Most of the districts are unguarded with not a single patrol in sight. " the woman's voice dripping with sickly sweetness.
It was just like them, she thought, scoffing internally. They had grown complacent, basking in their ill-gotten "peace."
"And how goes the recruitment effort?"
"Less than ideal. Most of our people remain in hiding or have given up our ways completely. The ones that have stayed true are fiercely isolationist and independent, refusing to bend the knee to any power. A few go as far as to curse the Wandenreich itself, blaming us for not stepping in back then."
Narrowing his eyes, the man bristles ever so slightly "Are those sentiments shared by the major Echt families?" his tone laced with a deadly edge.
She shook her head. "Not entirely. Besides the Lamperds and Basterbines, most just pay lip service and continue on with their daily lives. The Ishidas and Kurosakis, in particular, show complete indifference, entirely ignoring our overtures."
The man leans back, clearly disappointed.
"How long will it take you to bring them back into the fold?"
"30-40 years give or take. From what I hear, there's still a kill-on-sight order in place for any Quincies. It won't be too hard to persuade them, especially when the newer generation takes rein."
"You have 20. The quicker we consolidate our forces, the better."
"Got it Ju-chan! If that's all I'll be in my quarters unpacking all the souvenirs. African Ivory, Russian furs, Chinese silk, you name it … Big Sis is of course willing to share if anything catches your eye."
Smiling, the woman offers a small bow, humming lightly as she skips away.
"Wait." the man commands, watching the woman turn back, "It would be prudent to remind you whether or not your dead little sister is properly avenged depends entirely on your performance."
Immediately the room is suffocated by an overwhelming pressure, the cool windy air turning stale and congested. Staring at each other, an uncomfortable silence soon ensues, blue eyes facing blue as neither party shows any willingness to back down.
Unbothered by the new development, the man takes the time to scrutinize his subordinate's appearance. She was beautiful, incredibly so, but feelings of desire and lust were beneath him. Instead, his attention was focused on her eyes and smile, thinly veiled malice enshroud behind a cold and ruthless exterior.
She was dangerous, he surmised, like an Azalea blooming in the shadows, far more menacing than her delicate appearance suggested.
"Oopsie!" the woman abruptly chirps, her voice laced with a faux ditziness as she sticks her small coral tongue and bonks herself gently with her fist. "Sorry, Ju-chan!"
Glaring at her for a few more seconds, he lets out an exasperated sigh, waving his hand to dismiss her. Watching her retreating form, he calls out one last time.
"His Majesty has placed great expectations on you as a member of his Schtuzstaffel. See that you do not betray them. Sternritter Y: the Yearning, Haruno Yukinoshita."
Hearing his warning, Yukinoshita merely nods her head in acknowledgment before exiting.
Reunited once more with painful memories, she walks her mind wandering to an old Quincy legend that her mother used to tell.
Over 900 years, he shall recover his heartbeat. Over 90 years, he shall recover his intellect. Over nine years, he shall recover his power. And over nine days, he shall recover the world.
In nine days she too will recover the world as her vengeance becomes complete.
Part #2: The Lamentations of a Warrior
The sun's golden rays bore down gently as a cool breeze set in. Glistening against the chalk-colored walls, the sky above was a picturesque canvas, shaded in by a deep gorgeous blue. Accompanied by the chirps and calls of chatty warblers, the day was nearly perfect … nearly.
Letting out a frustrated moan, Ikkaku Madarame could only growl in annoyance as his fellow squad members trained, contrasting their enthusiasm to his miserable state. Peering outside his office window, he observed their joyous expressions and shouts of excitement. Of course, this being the 11th division, training was not the boring repetition of various katas and Kido spells but rather the exhilarating practice of raw combat, a spar with an unsheathed Zanpakutō.
Sure their tradition had a habit of filling up the infirmaries at 4th Division Barracks but that was the price of being the strongest squad.
Along with the mountain of paperwork that came along with it.
Paperwork…
Oh, how he hated that word. The bane of every high-ranking officer, it was repetitive, boring, and not even remotely useful. Most of the time the stuff sent was simply logistics, shipments of clothing, food, and sake that required approval. Occasionally he would have to assemble a combat team to the Rukongai or the World of the Living, filing combat reports after, but in the end, the work was redundant, a task fit for a pencil pusher, not a warrior.
At the very least, they could have let the ruling bureaucracy do some of the work. The fat cats did nothing but wallow in their opulence after all.
Stamping what seemed to be his thousandth paper, his eyes instinctively drifted to the sake gourd sitting at the corner of his desk. Sure drinking on the job was against violations but this was the 11th- they were practically known as rule-breakers.
Just a sip, he assured himself, feeling a migraine settling in.
Pouring a small cup, he savored the burning sweetness as it traveled down, cleansing his mind. If he could not be with his men sparring outside, he could at least try and mirror their rowdy mood.
Finding his hand once again pouring a refill, he turned and glanced at the report before him. Inconspicuous, his eyes glazed over, his drunken stupor evaporating as he read the bolded words.
Killed in Action: Unseated member: Yori Itou
Cause of death: Unconfirmed ~ likely Hollow
Putting down his drink, Ikkaku narrowed his eyes, furiously scanning the rest of the report. Itou was one of his, a veteran who had served in the 11th even before he had. While unseated, the man wasn't a pushover by any means and would have been considered officer-level had he been anywhere else.
Clutching the report tightly, Ikkaku's grip tightened, crumpling the paper in his hand.
Impossible … he thought furiously. An experienced member like him falling to some grunt Hollow!
Though it did happen, missions to the World of the Living weren't exactly known to be difficult. Besides a few concentrated areas and the Jūreichi, it wasn't exactly common to encounter Hollows, much less dangerous ones.
Which was all the more confusing since apparently Itou had been killed in Chiba, a good distance from the current Jūreichi in Karakura.
Massaging his temple, he let another small groan, the familiar painful throb in his head returning.
"Damn it" he muttered to no one in particular.
It wasn't like he was particularly inclined to go and avenge his fallen comrade. Bareboned, the report offered virtually no details, simply outlining how a nearby patrol had come upon a pool of Itou's blood, the only clues regarding his final fate, the lingering Hollow reiatsu covering the area.
Ba~ who was he kidding? It wasn't like him to get all sentimental. For a division that relished the thrill of combat, they all knew what future awaited them: a life full of endless conflict and carnage, an existence that only ended in death. Like him, Itou was well aware of the risk and had fully embraced the idea of meeting a warrior's end. After all, there were few more honorable ways to go.
Sighing once again, he skimmed the report once more, hoping to catch anything that he had missed the first time.
No luck.
Even if he wanted to, the Hollow responsible was long gone, off in Hueco Mundo or some other god-forsaken refuge. Seeking it out would be a fool's errand, or like the humans phrased it finding a needle in a haystack.
With this realization, Ikkaku Madarame finally made the decision of letting go. Muttering a quick prayer for the deceased, his only wish was that his subordinate had received an honorable death, his final moments a good ol' fashioned brawl free of any trickery or deceit.
Part #3: Prayer to the fallen
Onii-chan…
The word repeated itself endlessly, a searing gouge in her heart that still bled.
A month had passed since the accident ~ an unexpected combustion with the machinery the foreman had explained to them.
Combined with the sizable compensation they had received from the factory, it had been as if the entire incident had been swept under the rug. Besides the absence of its son and heir, life in the Hikigaya household had gone back to normal.
It wasn't fair!
Her Onii-chan had been only 14 and for all his rotten flaws, she wouldn't have him any other way.
He had been the one to take care of her, cooking dinner, doing laundry, reading her stories like Urashima Tarō or Momotarō. With their parents both working late into the night, he had practically raised her, taking over their role.
Which made all the more cruel, how he was treated.
While not the brightest, even she could tell that her Onii-chan didn't get along with his classmates. From dirt-stained clothes to small bruises, it was obvious that he was being bullied. Yet whenever she tried to bring up the topic, he would always brush it off, telling her to focus on herself instead, tactfully avoiding the subject.
When she turned up at school a week after the funeral, it was then that the horrific truth was revealed. A scandalous topic, soon rumors turned up, her friends telling stories of her Onii-chan having his textbooks destroyed, desk vandalized, and clothes covered in excrement.
Soon the topic of conversation had reared its ugly face towards her. Combined with her absence and the fact that Hikigaya wasn't exactly a common surname, it didn't take long for the pitying glazes and hushed whispers to make their way.
The whole spectacle was infuriating. Her brother had been killed and their schoolmates, like vultures, reveled in the drama, finding great amusement.
Thankfully, there was some silver lining present as she found out soon after returning. A few of Onii-chan's bullies had been found dead on school grounds, their mangled corpses displayed for everyone to see. Covered in acidic burns, their mysterious death had the whole town buzzing, wondering who was responsible.
In the end, it had been this discovery that had flung the rumor mill into working nonstop. A student dying was rare- yes, but a couple of his bullies dying soon afterward was something to be expected from a horror story.
To be honest, she didn't care who exactly was responsible. The jerks were gone, their lives justly cut short. Whatever or whoever had ended them had her gratitude.
Feeling the wet drips of tears splatter onto the ground, her heart clenched in pain. Deep inside, a part of her believed- no knew who did it.
"Onii-chan" she quivered, "If you can hear me, I want you to know I'm doing well. Mom and Dad are busy with work as usual and Kamakura still lazes around all the time. It's hard but we all are managing."
Pausing briefly to wipe her tears, she continues, trembling.
"I just want you to know that I'm doing fine. I'm 12 so I can take care of myself now. You don't have to worry about me so please focus on yourself. You've always putting others first, getting hurt so those close to you stay protected. That's why I think it's time for you to move on and leave us behind."
Her vision now fully blurred, her chortled voice chokes out.
"Live for yourself Onii-chan. Love yourself. I know it's hard, but if you try hard enough you'll find people who care for just as much as I do. So leave and be set free. I heard one of the priests tell Mom that the afterlife is just like here on Earth so I'll be angry if I don't have a beautiful kind sister-in-law to meet when I visit. Finally, I want to say thank you for everything. No matter where you are or what you do, I'll be here praying. Tehee that was worth a ton of points, wasn't it? So go on… this time it's my turn to be strong."
Amongst the sobs, Komachi Hikigaya lets out her first genuine smile in weeks.
A/N:
And it's finally finished. Sorry for the lengthy wait, Summer classes were a lot more work than anticipated and procrastination is a bitch. I wanted to try something so I decided to make this chapter an interlude exploring the thoughts of the different characters as well as give some additional exposition. In particular, I really enjoyed how the last part section came out though I am worried that it feels a bit too angsty. Komachi maturing and coming to terms with loss was something I particularly wanted to emphasize, along with the overall slightly somber tone of the entire chapter. When you think about it, the setting of Bleach is sort of depressing with a ton of the characters dying off and the whole situation with the Hollows and the Quincies being quite tragic. Having Hikigaya himself turn into a Hollow just makes the whole situation seem even more bitter in hindsight…
On a happier note, I just watched the new episode of Cour 2 for TYBW which was amazing！ As always, any feedback or thoughts is deeply appreciated and welcomed.