So, here's where I remind you that parts real life is cannon to this fic, and that '04 wasn't a pleasant time. I hope the second half of the chapter is a fitting consolation if the darkness of the first half is unsettling.
Yoruichi found herself walking through the upscale parts of Seoul, South Korea. Such a trip wasn't unusual for her, but doing so on business was. Contacting Yugure was off the table. She would go to the ground, no, Yoruichi would have to play a few cards to make it clear that she wasn't here to kill her.
Yoruichi knew what Yugure's pseudonym was, and knew that if she dropped her actual name, Yugure would probably not be spooked. Her hatred of Tokinada was infamous and was one of the only things that could be predicted of her.
Yoruichi was dressed in a subtle but upscale dress, stitched to allow her full freedom of movement while also taking full advantage of her body to make it so that any who did notice her wouldn't be able to make out any defining features. After all, when you looked stunning, people often didn't notice any identifying features.
"Ah, how may I help you miss?" The receptionist spoke politely. The etiquette was immaculate, as was expected of an upscale hotel in Seoul's Gangnam district.
"Is there a Miss Ryuboku here?" Driftwood. probably one of the most meaningless pseudonyms she has seen, but quite fitting. here one moment, then gone the next, taken by the flow of the river, perfect for a woman in hiding.
After looking through the guest list the receptionist then looked up at Yoruichi. "She has asked not to be disturbed."
"Could you make a call for me? Tell her that Yoruichi wants to speak with her," The veteran assassin played coy as she often did. leaning on the desk and flashing a mirthful grin.
"I'll call, please wait here," Yoruichi grinned as she took a seat in the lobby, careful not to sit on her own hair. It was likely that Yugure had her own bodyguard with her, and they would come to assess if she was a threat. Granted, due to who she was, she was always a threat.
Yoruichi had taken great care to not look like a threat, however. Her choice of dress minimized the chance for concealed weapons due to its slim fit, having her hair down created an actual impediment in combat, and her small handbag only had enough room for a compact firearm, not that it would ever do any meaningful damage anyway.
Granted this was all complicated by the fact she was born and raised as a living weapon as all Shihoin were, and the fact that until Yushiro surpassed her, she was the absolute apex of the clan.
It's the thought that counts.
Yugure was watching the news again, it was always best to remain informed. Especially on matters you had a direct hand in starting.
The Iraq war was progressing as predicted. A strong initial flashpoint with a long and slow burn which should help balance out the number of souls between the three worlds.
Amazing what damage one small rumor of weapons of mass destruction can do. As much as Yugure hated putting her fingers on the scales like this, it had to be done for the sake of maintaining the balance of souls. Yhwach's little war simply forced her to take drastic measures to ensure the balance was stable.
She was sure that would be of little consolation for the numerous victims of this war. Their deaths were the entire point of what she did.
The Visuals Department rarely took such drastic measures. It was messy, it was obvious, and it risked drawing suspicion. No, this was an act of desperation taken because if it wasn't, then their hard-fought victory would have been for naught.
As she watched the news and heard of how the war had opened the door for non-state actors to infiltrate Iraq she sighed. That was exactly why they chose to light off that powder keg over any other. Not only did it have a minimal risk of vertically escalating, but it also was going to be a slow-burning conflict with a relatively low but consistent casualty rate.
She didn't know which part of herself to hate more, her ability to make these sorts of decisions without hesitation in the moment, or her empathy which was twisting her stomach.
This was when the door to her suite opened, allowing the admittance of her unexpected guest. Yugure muted the television as it turned away from the war in Iraq and to more benign topics. She had more important matters to focus on.
"Sorry to drop in unannounced," Yoruichi sat down in the chair across from Yugure. the shorter Shihoin playing coy as she always did. As she sat down Yugure noticed Yoruichi's choice of attire. It was clear she was trying to come off as non-hostile.
"How did you find me?" Yugure was not amused. Yoruichi and her father were of similar intelect, If she could find her, he could.
"I cross-referenced the list of the dead with the most recent clan census, you're the highest-ranking member of your clan still alive," Those words sent chills down her spine. Her father actually did it.
"I see…" That news stung. It meant that the only surviving family of any note she had left was the one man she hated most. She took a breath and moved on. "I doubt you'd come all this way to find me just to break that news. Unless you've already killed my father and seek to ensure the continuity of the Tsunayashiro."
Yoruichi wished that was the case. She was examining Yugure and noticed that her long hair was more unkempt than someone like her would allow. She would have chalked that up to coming in during her off hours, but Yoruichi's gut told her something else was up.
"Sadly no, your father is still very much alive. I'm here to ask some questions regarding an investigation I'm conducting privately," Yoruichi really hated that Tokinada was allowed to continue living like that. He sickened her.
"What would this investigation be about?" Yugure knew of plenty that could incriminate many members of the Tsunayashiro, herself included. No member of the five houses had clean hands.
"Your clan's concealment of fulbringers, and why you decided to do it," Yugure was surprised, if they decided to conceal those activities… She weighed her options. She could play diplomacy, secure concessions in her favor, or even… no. That was the Tsunayashiro way, the way of her father. No, she'd cooperate.
"I didn't know we were concealing them from the rest of Seireitei. As far as I could tell we were operating within acceptable parameters. Collecting souls of interest to codify their properties and create a profile on their nature. If we were concealing them…" Yugure didn't like this. "I wasn't part of that wing of the Visuals Department, so I was not privy to the details."
Yoruichi wasn't surprised. Yugure was a 'diplomat,' her job was to manage the living part of the living world and facilitate the operations of other shinigami in it. R&D and capabilities testing would be outside her purview.
"Is there any way I can get that information? or is there anything you can tell me that you do know?" Yoruichi was close, she just needed the smoking gun.
"Any documentation would be inaccessible. If I return to Soul Society my father will kill me. All I can say is that my family was conducting experiments on fulbringers, and that I was told not to divulge any of this information outside of the 'proper channels.'" Yugure knew that the family had an extremely tight grip on the internal flow of information. "It was likely a conspiracy by the elders and clan head to conduct this in secret."
Yoruichi processed that information. This was what she and Kyoraku needed to open a formal investigation. The problem is that Tokinada had conveniently disposed of anyone who could flip.
It was as Yoruichi was considering her next move that she noticed Yugure staring into the television. The images of the Iraq war flashed on it once again as the news loop progressed, the burnt-out husks of tanks, trucks, and APCs filled the screen.
"I know the look of a guilty conscience when I see it," She could see that Yugure's emerald eyes were transfixed in horrified awe, not at the on-screen images, but at the implied happenings. The highway to Baghdad was particularly haunting.
"All of that death… one stroke of my pen…" Yoruichi knew that feeling well. When she was the Onmitsukido commander she had killed many with less than a word.
"That twisting in your gut? That means you're still human. Hold on to that feeling for dear life. Else you let yourself become a monster." She knew what it felt like to slowly become numb to the suffering one can cause. To disassociate away your humanity and make decisions solely based on the cruel calculus of their responsibilities to the rest of humanity, for the sake of keeping the balance.
Had she and Kisuke not met Kaien? She dared not entertain that line of thought further.
Ichigo was helping around the manor. Kukaku was insistent that he become acquainted with his many cousins of varying distances, but also the other things the clan did.
For example, he had just learned that the storehouse on the grounds that was weirdly far away from everything was actually full of explosives of varying volatility.
That was an experience. Now though he was helping with the renovations. Chiefly rebuilding the foyer that Bawa-Bawa had smashed.
What Ichigo had quickly found was that his stamina was directly proportional to the amount of spiritual energy he had. Which was a lot.
he often found himself running lumber from the carpenters, some of whom were family, others being tradesmen from the Rukon, over to the workers who were putting them in place.
The only reason he wasn't running them alone was because the frame pieces were huge and one person couldn't manage the bulk alone.
By now the open frame of the new foyer was almost done, and the process of putting everything on would begin shortly.
"Lord Ichigo," the voice of a servant caused Ichigo to turn around from the small gathering he and the workers had formed while on break.
"Yeah?" Ichigo had long since given up on getting them to stop calling him that. It helped that the clan at large generally looked after those who made themselves subordinate, but the noble title still didn't sit well with him.
"Someone would like to speak with you," The young servant relayed the information. Ichigo chuckled internally at the irony. she was probably close to a hundred, he was the young one.
"I'll see them right away," With that he wordlessly dismissed her. Ichigo could clearly see an older man he had never seen before on the outskirts of the courtyard. That was likely who came to see him.
Ichigo got there it became clear the older man wanted to see him as he addressed him with a smile.
"You must be Ichigo," The older man smiled as he addressed the Shiba heir.
"Uh… yeah, you are?" Ichigo looked away while rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn't used to being asked for by name. So this was unusual for him.
"Ah, my apologies, I'm Shomei, Head matchmaker for the Kuchiki," The old man stretched his hand out for a handshake.
Ichigo however paled. He wasn't expecting this at all today.
"Please, there's nothing to worry about," The older man spoke in reassurance. "I would have recommended you myself if Byakuya wouldn't shoo me out of the room for it."
The old man's reassurance did not stay Ichigo's nerves.
"Do you mind if we take this to a more private location?" While Ichigo was sure about his desire to go through with this, he didn't want to screw this up.
"Sure sure, lead the way," The old man accommodated Ichigo. He had centuries of experience in dealing with people, this was not out of the ordinary.
Ichigo began to lead the older man to a room where they could talk in relative privacy.
Ichigo had chosen a small tea room, mainly for its seclusion and the fact that this one had chairs. He then moved to help the matchmaker sit down before being waved off.
"I may be old but I'm not made of glass," Shomei then sat down, resting his cane on the table.
Ichigo then followed suit, resting his red haori on the chair.
"So, what do we do?" Ichigo spoke, trying to hide his nerves. The older man simply chuckled.
"I take it you don't know how omai works here?" He knew the answer but asking helped him gauge how little the young Shiba actually knew.
"Not at all no," Ichigo sort of knew how it worked back home, but that was the world of the living, and this was Soul Society.
"That's okay, honestly you two are quite far along in the process," He smiled as he spoke. The process, while very traditional, was also quite flexible in its wording. Sure the Kuchiki elders may have a few things to say about his loose interpretation of some of the steps, but there was a reason he was a matchmaker and they weren't. "Normally the request would be written by a scribe, though I will say your calligraphy was impressive, and your choice of words was also quite earnest."
"Did I do something wrong?" Ichigo was still new to this nobility thing. He didn't want to screw up, not this early.
"Not at all, though I do recommend leaving the writing of future correspondences to the scribes," The boy's nerves spoke loudly about how much he cared about this. He had to give Ichigo credit, it was clear that Rukia mattered to him on a personal level.
"Yeah… I probably should do that…" Ichigo looked away again, scratching the back of his neck. A pacifying behavior.
"Now to business, I'm simply here to gauge your personality as part of determining if you and Lady Rukia are compatible," Shomei didn't want to string Ichigo along. It was best to get this over with before he started taking time off of his life.
"I… okay?" Ichigo didn't know what this process entailed.
"It's an excuse to go for a walkabout and to check in on how the Shiba are settling in, but this is an important step. Often two people may think they will get along fine, but extended periods can turn minor annoyances into a spawning ground for resentment," Shomei spoke gravely. One missed detail and they could potentially have a repeat of the disaster that was Fukuro's marriage. He wouldn't allow himself to make such a mistake again.
"I assure you-" The matchmaker raised his hand. Politely cutting Ichigo off.
"I have heard that more times than I can count. Don't worry though, your first impression has been very good. I only need to ask a few questions." He looked kindly at the Shiba heir, hoping to steady his nerves.
"Sure, go ahead," Ichigo accommodated the old man. If he had to play this game then he would.
"Are you aware of Lady Rukia's past?" A seemingly innocuous question, but could easily bait out some bad traits.
"Yes," He and Rukia had talked about it on occasion since he came here. Not that any of it diminished her in his eyes.
"How much?" What he knew would inform his next questions.
"She's from the Rukon, she and Renji have known each other for over a hundred years, she was mentored by my uncle, anything I'm missing?" Ichigo counted on his fingers as he went through the list. He omitted a lot, but those were the important details.
"I don't think so. What about your past? I don't know about you," Ichigo clearly had no issues with the first two things he mentioned. His wording and how casually he brought them up made that clear, so his idea of Rukia is probably accurate and he has no issues with jealousy.
"Me? I'm nothing special," Ichigo dismissed the line of questioning. His life was uninteresting until recently.
"Humor me," Humility, a good start, though Shomei still needed more.
"Alright," Ichigo took a breath, "My mother died when I was five, I spent most of my life so far blaming myself for her death. Because of this, I decided to protect those closest to me. I did what I could in this regard for a while until I met her. Everything after that is pretty well known at this point."
Shomei processed all of that. Selfless, family-orientated, this was looking good so far. The worst thing he could find so far were known quantities. Bullishness and a disregard for authority, neither of which Rukia would have any problems with. Rukia had proven herself a capable officer and strong motivator, not to mention her prior rapport with him meant she already knew about them herself. it seems he could just go straight for that question.
"Do you have any complaints about Rukia?" This question was itself seemingly benign, but the answer could be very telling.
"I wish she would take better care of herself," Ichigo had seen how she worked herself, even if only a glimpse. She needs more rest, hell, maybe even a few self-indulgences could go a long way for her.
"How so?" Shomei had heard this answer spun in so many ways, it could mean anything.
"She works herself hard. I understand her commitments, and I respect them, but she doesn't allow any time for her to enjoy herself, and she's too hard on herself when she fails to meet her own expectations," Ichigo had begun to see how hard Rukia works, and how she was burning herself out.
Shomei was impressed. While it could be the case that Ichigo could just have been very well coached, he was willing to bet this was genuine. The Shiba didn't play that game, and Ichigo's body language would have indicated a lie. He was honest through and through.
"Well, that concludes my questioning, would you mind accompanying me for some tea?" Shomei was done for the day and wanted to take some time to quench his thirst and enjoy some good tea.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and feel free to comment your thoughts.