Ascension Chapter 27, a bleach fanfic

Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo and Shueisha Inc. I merely own my original characters.

Feedback: Reviews are encouraged, flames are not.

AN: Happy 2015 to everyone! Meant to get this chapter out before 2014 ended, but it just didn't happen. I'm not really sure if the last chapter was boring or just plain long that it wore you guys out, but, I hope this chapter isn't too boring. This chapter and the next mark the end of the lighter chapters before I move on to action. I think I might have mentioned this before, but the timeframe of this story is within a number of days just like Kubo writes Bleach. Unlike him, I wanted to make sure I have taken the time to do an adequate amount of character/storyline development, which is why the story might seem slow. If I didn't, the story would just have skipped straight to the action. I know some of you expect much more development than I can give within this timeframe (and this story), so that's what why I'm reminding you guys about it. Kubo once said, "I don't want to make Bleach into a love story because there are much more exciting things about their personalities and things that they can do instead of getting into the romance aspect of their relationships." The truth is he just doesn't have time for it.

This chapter is dedicated to both Hese Solstis and Kaychan87 whose feedback helped me decide to keep the last scene after all.

An unusual air of serenity clothed normally sharp, smirking features. Bluish white light constantly bathed Aizen's face making it seem as though he was enjoying being hit by ultraviolet rays. The tiny gem emitting the light sat on a pedestal beside him glowing continuously, seemingly getting brighter with every twinkle and sparkle. Its brightness did not diminish in the slightest when a long, lean shadow attempted to intercept its path. Instead it was swallowed by the light.

"What is it, Gin?" said Aizen, after a few moments. His eyes remained closed.

"Didn't mean ta disturb ya Aizen-taichō," Gin apologized at once.

"Not to worry, Gin. Has anything noteworthy occurred?" Aizen wondered, slowly opening his eyes.

"Not really. The Onmitsukidō is apparently attemptin' to get the cure out to all the Rukongai folks, but it's like ya said, it doesn't affect ya plans since the Hollows will make sure they die either way, and there's just no way the Shinigami can keep up with the number of Hollows you've been sendin' out."

"Indeed, they do not have the means to combat my army. They are fools to think they stand even the slightest chance in stopping me. They have no comprehension of the depth of planning and preparation I have undergone for the past century to ensure my success. Even in the improvisation of my plans things have out turned out better than I imagined. Kurosaki Ichigo and his allies have certainly proven to be much more useful and amusing than I had anticipated when I decided to continue using them. In many ways, it is almost as though fate has intervened on my behalf, but, of course, I have simply been able to manage the situations to my advantage," he said, his lips lengthening into an arrogant smirk. "It won't be long now before you and I reap the benefits of this labor."

"Definitely won't be long with the way things are goin'," Gin agreed, eyeing the Hōgyoku, whose glow only seemed to intensify with every passing minute. "I'm sure our old comrades will be pleased to hear that. They're gettin' impatient, waitin' around for their turn…"

"I'm pleased to hear they're eager. They only have to wait just a little bit longer before they lead our assault on the Seireitei. They will certainly play a vital role."

"No kiddin'," Gin agreed, grinning.

"Unohana- taichō," Kotetsu Isane said anxiously, stepping into the office of her commanding officer.

"What is it, Isane?" the dark-haired woman asked, calm as always, though there was a noticeable speckle of fatigue in her serene blue eyes.

"I've just received word from the Shinō Academy that their infirmary beds are full. They wanted to know if we could accept students here, but I told them they'd have to make do with what they had and that we would send whatever medicine we could as soon as possible."

"I see," Unohana said quietly.

"This is terrible, Unohana-taichō, even the students have been affected…It seems we just can't keep up with the number of sick appearing within the Seireitei. We've nearly used up all our medicine to finish treating all our patients and our own sick colleagues and all those who've recently been diagnosed today. The Reinō Spiritual Ability Research Facilityis currently working on producing more medicine for the Seireitei and Rukongai, but it honestly doesn't feel like we can save everyone at the rate we're going…I was really hoping our quarantine, cleaning, and testing efforts would keep the number of infected down…"

"So was I, Isane, but you know as well as I do, highly infectious viruses are not easy to contain. At any rate, things could be worse if we had not acted as we had. The only reason we are out of medicine is because we agreed to receive a small amount for the number of sick we had left thanks to Inoue Orihime," Unohana pointed out. "Frankly, I did not expect the Academy students to be affected, but we must do whatever we can to help those infected within the Seireitei. That is our sole mission now. We will no longer be sending our soldiers to the front lines—"

"W-What?" Isane stammered, shocked.

"I received word from the sōtaichō that we must no longer send our soldiers to aid those fighting in Rukongai or the citizens…"

"B-But why? They need help too…"

"Isane, surely you can tell that with the number of soldiers missing in action, we would not have enough personnel on hand to deal with the sick and the recovering here. Our soldiers have to do the best they can and so do the others. They were taught first aid at the Academy."

Isane bit her lip. "I-I don't like this, Unohana-taichō."

"I can't say that I like it either, Isane, but I'm afraid this is the only option. Our numbers are not limitless. We must do what we can to preserve the Seireitei."

"Yes, I know, Unohana-taichō. If you'll excuse me, I have some patients to attend to."

"Very well," Unohana nodded, watching as the silver haired woman bowed and left the room.

It seems an extra day was not enough…Unohana thought, reminiscing on the fact they had enacted quarantine and preventive measures a full twenty fours before Kurosaki Isshin had set foot in the Soul Society with his information on the cure. She had no doubt that her division's efforts helped lower the Seireitei infection rate, which compared to Rukongai was relatively low, but could have quickly spread and surpassed that rate if nothing had been done. Nonetheless, she knew her divisions' efforts would not be foolproof. A lot of the testing had spilled over to the day after their initial discovery of the virus allowing the virus to grow in those who weren't showing full blown symptoms yet because of their Reiryoku level. In spite of the cases they might have missed, she felt somewhat relieved things weren't as terrible as they could have been. Hours mattered in a situation like this and Ukitake's research and observations had given them some extra time, even though it seemed like it was not enough due to the dual sided nature of this war.

She loathed thinking it, but Aizen had formulated the most efficient and effective means of cutting down their numbers without lifting a single finger himself.

She had known since attending to Kurosaki Isshin's niece that such a virus could be lethal to the Soul Society, but she had never imagined he was behind such a heinous creation. The only thing she was certain of was that her former subordinate turned fellow taichō was not responsible for it despite Central 46's ruling. It was unfortunate Kurosaki Isshin had been unable to discover Aizen's treachery and instead was blamed for it. If Aizen had been stopped then, things would have been so different. The truth was, it was her fault that Aizen had not been dissuaded from continuing down this path…She had failed to treat his virus and save the Kurosaki Clan.

She had tried to rectify her failure by informing Yamamoto-sōtaichō of her belief in Kurosaki Isshin's innocence and keeping an eye out for any signs of the virus in Rukongai in order to capture the real perpetrator, but she had never noticed anything. Aizen had evidently been much more careful in his experimentation after the Kurosaki Clan incident. She had known upon examining the sick Shinigami in the Sōgō Kyūgo Tsumesho that they carried an even stronger version of the virus she had encountered twenty years before. She had felt disturbed to realize this, but at the same time, she knew there would be a cure albeit not from her hands…

The direction the war had shifted made her believe Kurosaki Isshin would finally make his appearance. She had suspected he might have contracted the virus due to his family before his arrest and had managed to survive it. She had known he was alive since she had felt Kurosaki Ichigo's Reiatsu. She was certain the sōtaichō had noticed it too. Ukitake-taichō and Kyōraku-taichō had evidently had inklings of Kurosaki Ichigo's true heritage but it was his future daughter's appearance that had given them a concrete answer and had opened their eyes to the carefully crafted invisible threads Aizen had spun all around Kurosaki Isshin.

She had seen the arrival of Kurosaki Masaki as a sign of future prosperity but she had never imagined it would inadvertently lead her colleagues to the answer as to what Aizen Sōsuke was doing. She couldn't say she wasn't grateful, but it was clear that this war still had many battles ahead before peace and normalcy could return to the Seireitei and the rest of the Soul Society. The Gotei 13 was being tested in a way they had never been in its entire history.

She had mentioned to the sōtaichō during their earlier discussion that it would probably be best for the Kidō Corps to provide battlefield assistance before things degraded further. Kidō Corps members had only been asked to guard the real Karakura in the outskirts of Rukongai, but now it was obvious more of their numbers were needed to assist with actual battle. Each division after all had less than their full two hundred soldiers available and were continuing to lose their members either to illness or the Hollows. He apparently had already been considering it. It would be the first time nearly the whole Kidō Corps would be called to protect the Soul Society.

She had a feeling even she would have to be called out into the battlefield. It had been quite some time since had been asked to do such a thing, but she was more than up to the task if need be.

He had finally done it.

He had managed to say her name despite his treacherous tongue threatening to curl backwards and prevent him from saying the second and third syllables. He hated that he had sounded like a toddler trying to sound out a new word, but he was relieved he had mustered enough control to stay the course and actually say it. He hadn't needed his father's hint to know he really needed to stop disrespecting Masaki in that way. After his failed Kidō attempt, it was clear he needed to at least do that much. He'd already disrespected her enough, even if he hadn't really meant to...

He knew he had sounded like a broken record, but he had to reiterate his regret once more about his past words and actions even if she had already dismissed them. He could only imagine what she must think of him with his apparent knack for wounding her in some shape or form ever since he'd realized her identity, even if it was accidental….

He had felt like a complete screw up injuring her with his overpowered Kidō. He hadn't imagined such a thing could happen. He could have easily done that to Rukia, but he hadn't, he had done it to her, which only made him feel worse because he hadn't wanted to hurt her anymore….

So much for that.

Although all his actions were done by mistake, his current track record made him wonder if he was any good at being a father.

From what he saw of her memory, he appeared to be good at training her in Zanjutsu, but was he any good in what mattered? Future Rukia seemed to be more of a parent than he was…. Even now Rukia was already exhibiting more parental instincts than he was…

He hated to think it but his father was clearly a better paternal figure than he was at the moment...He really was amazed by his father's ability to act as though Masaki had always been part of his family...His genuine enthusiasm for her and the future to come was rather unsettling, but Ichigo was gratified by the fact that he could give Masaki some sort of semblance of normalcy unlike him…or Rukia….He figured his mannerisms were probably close to his future self, which had to be some comfort to Masaki. It had to be hard for her distinguishing everyone as different from the people that she once knew, even if their appearance was different. If he were in her shoes, he would totally find it bizarre and difficult interacting with the younger version of people he knew. He wondered if he traveled back in time if a younger version of his father would have reacted enthusiastically to the news that he would have a son with a Human woman…

Ichigo had a feeling he would not have received the same reception as Masaki had.

Not that he blamed him.

Learning about the future was pretty unbelievable and strange. He clearly never intended to come live in the World of the Living. It was just a strange twist of fate that had led him there…

He, on the other hand, had known he'd end up in the Soul Society eventually, but he never considered when or how his life would be when he would get there.

He still hadn't quite come to terms with how he felt about it. All he knew was that it would happen…and that Masaki seemed like a decent person.

"Oi, Kurosaki!" he heard a voice shout at him and he stopped walking. He looked around and noticed Uryū and Sado were coming from his left-hand side down a passage way between two buildings.

"Ishida, Chado," he greeted them as they came to a halt in front of him.

"I'm surprised you're back early, Kurosaki. Last night you came much later than this."

"Yeah, well that was yesterday," Ichigo muttered, surprised that the Quincy had even taken note of such a thing.

"I see, well, I thought perhaps you might have had a reason to come back early."

"No reason other than it was time to come back here. So, how have you guys been?"

"Not bad. We kept busy, right, Sado-kun?"

The tall teen merely nodded.

"Good."

"Looks you kept busy, too, Kurosaki," Uryū remarked, eying him. "I'm amazed you actually managed to learn how to limit the Reiryoku you're leaking. I thought it'd be impossible for someone like you to limit even a quarter of it."

"Shows how much you know, Ishida. I've learned to contain nearly double that already and eventually I'm going to learn how to stop leaking it completely."

"Don't let learning some control go to your head, Kurosaki. You should be content you managed this much."

"Trust me, I know I still have a lot to learn, but if I've learned to do this much then I'm sure I can learn how to control all of it someday," Ichigo said earnestly.

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"Don't worry, I'll show you when I manage it," Ichigo said with a confident grin.

There was a beat of silence, before Ichigo asked, "So, where are you guys headed?"

Before Uryū or Sado could respond, another voice said, "There you are, Ichigo. Zaraki-taichō wasn't happy to hear you scampered off again."

Ikkaku was strolling towards them.

"Don't tell me, he's still looking for me," Ichigo said, half incredulous and half exasperated with just the slightest note of wariness.

"Nah, he gave up after the fukutaichō showed up and filled him in on where you were. Geez, Ichigo, you've become such a family man now," Ikkaku teased.

"W-What are you talking about? I was training, not having a picnic or something," Ichigo said, blushing slightly.

"I'm just messing with ya, Ichigo," Ikkaku grinned. "Speaking of family though, I can't believe you're actually a Kurosaki. Never would have thought it, but it explains a lot…"

"A Kurosaki?" Uryū echoed, sapphire eyes glittering with inquiry. "What do you mean by that, Madarame?"

"You mean don't know about Ichigo's heritage?" Ikkaku asked, surprised.

Ichigo looked uncomfortable.

"I merely know he is the son of a Shinigami that apparently was a taichō in the Gotei 13. And like you, I found this out recently."

"I see. Are you even aware of your family's history, Ichigo?" Ikkaku said, glancing at the orange haired teen. "The taichō figured by the look on your face that you had no clue until your old man showed up at the meeting."

"My dad filled me on the important stuff last night. I'm aware he was more than just a taichō, he was a nobleman."

Shock rippled across the visages of Uryū and Sado.

"N-Nobleman?" Uryū repeated, incredulously.

"Yeah, I know it's weird, but apparently he was one…" Ichigo said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"Not just a nobleman, but a clan head," Ikkaku corrected. "A clan head of one of the higher ranked clans up until its demise. I've never really bothered to keep up with the likes of nobles, but I knew that much about Kurosaki Isshin-taichō."

"You said demise. Does that mean the Kurosaki Clan no longer exists?" Uryū asked.

"As far as I knew all of 'em including Kurosaki-taichō had died years ago, but I guess the clan isn't really extinct after all. It lives on in you, Ichigo, and your future family."

Embarrassment colored Ichigo's cheeks.

"I'd say you might as well still consider the clan extinct," Uryū said dryly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ichigo demanded, annoyed.

"You may have some noble blood, Kurosaki, but you're uncouth and uncivilized. There's no way someone like you could pass as nobility to gather enough respect from other aristocratic families to be considered equals. It's unfathomable to believe such a thing, even if you do somehow manage to marry Kuchiki-san. Your clan's prestige is essentially in name only, so that's why I say it might as well still be considered extinct."

Ichigo glared at the Quincy for a moment.

"Maybe you're right, Ishida," he allowed. "Maybe I will only be a nobleman in name only, but that's okay with me. I don't give a damn about behaving like a nobleman or socializing with nobles. I only care about clearing my family's name. It's enough for me to know that I will do that."

"Well, in that case, I suppose you did otherwise I'm sure Kuchiki Byakuya wouldn't have allowed his sister to marry someone from a defunct clan let alone a defunct, besmirched one. Tell me, Kurosaki, is the reason you have to clear you family name related to your clan's demise?"

Ichigo stared at him for a moment, a considerate look settling over his features before transforming into a solemn one. "It is. My father is considered the murderer of his clan," he declared earnestly.

"W-What?" Uryū said, startled.

"Why would people think your father would murder his own family if he was also considered dead?" Sado asked, puzzled.

"Long story short is that Aizen ended up testing the virus he's using now on my dad's family and made it seem like my dad had done it out of a personal grudge. My dad had issues with his family which is why the judges believed the evidence the bastard had planted against him and had him thrown in jail. While there he started showing symptoms of the virus. He would have died if Kūkaku-san hadn't rescued him and had Urahara-san treat him in the World of the Living with some special Gigai. The reason the Soul Society declared my father dead was because they didn't want everyone to know he escaped."

"Can't believe that bastard has been playing us that long, but it figures he'd be behind something like that," Ikkaku said, disgusted.

"It appears Aizen has been plotting this war very carefully. He's just been waiting for the right time to strike," Uryū noted grimly.

"That's right. The bastard has been planning to wipe out everyone for years," Ichigo said. "According to my dad, he was the real reason behind Urahara-san's exile and the Visored. Hirako never got around to telling me the full story, but from what he said, I'd figured Aizen had something to do with it."

"Kurosaki, there is something I don't understand. Why was Kūkaku-san willing to save your father? I know she has a thing for wild missions, but I doubt it's because of that. Does she know him?"

Ichigo tensed.

"I was wondering the same thing," Sado admitted quietly.

"Er, well, I guess you could say they know each other," Ichigo hesitated, averting his gaze.

"How so?" Uryū prodded.

"S-She's…his n-niece," he muttered, maintaining his gaze averted from everybody.

"His niece?" Sado and Uryū echoed in shocked unison, after a brief moment of silence.

Ichigo nodded. "Yeah, apparently, my dad had a sister, who married into the Shiba Clan, back when it was a high-ranking clan and they lived in the Seireitei…"

"So that means Kūkaku-san and Ganju-kun are your cousins. I knew you guys were alike in many ways, but I can't believe he's an actual relative of yours," Uryū said, sounding amused.

"W-What the hell are you talking about? We're nothing alike! He's an idiot, and he looks nothing like a Kurosaki…He takes on after the Shibas…."

"Say what you will, Kurosaki, but you and Ganju-kun are very much alike. You're both hot tempered idiots."

"W-What? That's not true," Ichigo said, outraged.

"Tch. Can't believe that idiot is a Shiba," Ikkaku commented. "No wonder the clan went downhill after Shiba Kaien died."

"So the Shiba Clan didn't fall because of Aizen?" Uryū asked.

"From what I heard, the Shiba Clan lost its status years ago until Shiba Kaien came along and took up the position of fukutaichō for the Thirteenth Division," Ikkaku replied.

"I see. So that must be the brother that Ganju said was killed by a Shinigami…"

"He wasn't killed by a Shinigami like Ganju said. He was saved from the Hollow that had taken over his body…by his fellow Shinigami…My dad told me about it," Ichigo added, noticing Sado and Uryū questioning expressions. "And the reason, the clan was kicked out of the Seireitei was because of financial issues, or something."

"Somehow I don't have trouble believing that," Uryū said.

There was silence for a moment before the Quincy said, "Kurosaki, I suppose now that you know your father's history it makes it personal for you to defeat Aizen."

"The only reason I've ever needed to defeat him is that he's put my friends and Karakura in danger," Ichigo replied.

"Still, you gotta admit you need to kick his ass because he screwed your old man over," Ikkaku pointed out.

"My dad can do that himself if he wants. All that matters is that Aizen gets what he deserves for all the pain he's caused…is causing right now…I'll do whatever I can to make sure that happens."

"If that's the case, then how about getting some real training done for today?" Ikkaku said, grinning challengingly.

"You're on, after I get something to eat."

As he watched Ichigo spar, Sado thought of how everything pertaining to the past and future reiterated something he had felt deep down, though he had never had the time to genuinely dwell upon: Ichigo belonged in the Soul Society.

Ichigo had always been a skilled fighter with his hands and feet, but his friend looked as though he was born to wield a sword. The way he handled it against the Eleventh Division third seat radiated confidence and proficiency as though he had been doing it for years when in reality he had never picked up an actual sword until a few months ago. He could tell his friend was relishing the challenge Ikkaku was giving him.

Becoming a Shinigami had given his friend strength and a sense of purpose. He could see why it would be difficult for Ichigo to return to living a normal life after the war. Even if he continued to patrol Karakura as a Substitute Shinigami, Sado knew it would only be a matter of time before he would face the decision to give up the job. He doubted Ichigo would be able to do so. It was in his blood. With or without Kuchiki Rukia, it seemed Ichigo had never truly belonged in the World of the Living. His unusual appearance had always been proof of that.

He felt sad to know he would be losing his best friend, but he knew his friend was meant for greater things.

"Sado-kun, I'm going to call it a night. These fools will probably keep it up all night long," Uryū said, pulling him back from his musings.

He made a noise of agreement and added after a moment, "I'll be there soon."

"Very well." The Quincy nodded, before taking his leave.

He continued watching the fight before him for ten more minutes. It was truly an intense, acrobatic affair. The bare headed man fought with unbelievable speed and agility, pushing Ichigo to react even faster to his swift, nearly unpredictable attacks. He was truly a master with his Sansetsuko.

Ichigo barely evaded the deadly arc of Hōzukimaru as it swooped over his left ear. Ikkaku was already twisting the other end behind his neck at a downward angle, giving him no choice but to use Shunpo. The orange haired Shinigami reappeared behind the bald one and began to attack him at once. He was obviously trying to put things in his favor once more. Though he was successful for a bit, the tide soon changed in Ikkaku's favor. Both continued to give it as good as they got. It was truly exciting and amazing to see how Ichigo could fight on par with such a skilled swordsman. If Ichigo had gotten this good in a few months, he would certainly get even better in years, he mused.

Seeing that the sparring match would not end soon, Sado eventually bade the two men goodnight and made his way towards the quarters he had been assigned.

Un-raked leaves crunched and popped under his feet as he walked out of the training center. He followed the path for a quarter of mile before turning right. Agitated grunts and yells interrupted his tranquil walk halfway to his destination.

He froze, trying to ascertain where those sounds were coming from and whether he should even be concerned about it. He'd already learned the Eleventh Division was a rowdy bunch. They were always shouting and screaming about one thing or another. In some cases, it was simply how the soldiers communicated, but in other situations, it was a sign a duel was going to start. The Shinigami he'd fought several months ago had already expressed their desire to fight him again, evidently wanting to beat him this time around. He had brushed off their comments by saying he did not have time for it. They weren't too pleased to hear it to say the least.

He heard the shouts again.

He couldn't quite make out what the guy was saying, but he could tell he was annoyed. There were two other voices trying to placate him from what he could gather. Suddenly he heard a cry and a loud bang as something was thrown. The sound of a door being thrown open soon followed.

Thinking he better mind his business, Sado resumed his walk.

He had barely made ten steps when a large shadow intercepted his own.

He peered at the stranger.

He was a tall, hairless man with a thick, massive frame. His face glowed with a noticeable sheen of perspiration and his eyes had a rather unfocused yet menacing look about them.

"W-Who are ya?" he growled with a dry, raspy voice.

"I'm Yasutora Sado," Sado replied calmly.

"Who? Ya don't belong here," the man stated coldly, continuing to eye him.

"I'm technically not a member of your division, but I've been granted permission by Zaraki-taichō to stay here."

"Y-Yeah right," the man muttered, swaying to the side as he took a step forward.

Sado frowned slightly. This man was clearly not of his right mind.

"It's true. You can ask him yourself if you want."

The man seemed to consider the idea for a moment.

"N-No. There's no time for that," he said, shaking his head, as he took another step. His body tilted to the right for the moment, but he managed to stabilize himself.

"I don't want to fight you," Sado warned him quietly.

"T-Too bad," the man slurred, taking a swing at him.

Sado easily sidestepped it and the blows that followed. He caught both of the man's fists and held them.

"No. Stop it. I'm not fighting you."

"W-Why not?" the man questioned loudly, resisting against Sado's grip. He had a wild, glassy look in his eyes. Up close his skin shone with rivulets of sweat.

He managed to break free from Sado's grip but stumbled backward then forward, swinging like a pendulum, before ultimately falling forward. Sado retracted his steps just in time to see the man land at his feet like a heavy pine tree. He heard a grunt escape from the man's lips.

"You are in no condition to fight," Sado said softly, as he peered down at the fallen figure.

"N-Not true," he heard the man mutter as he fumbled about. Before he knew it, the Shinigami had grabbed ahold of his ankle and sank his teeth onto the flesh there. The pain was minor, but Sado could not believe the audacity of the man. As he continued to gnaw at his ankle as though he was some sort of rabid dog, Sado could feel the pain increasing and was reminded he needed to get this man off him.

"Oi, stop it," Sado protested, but the man only continued gnawing at his ankle.

What on earth was wrong with this man?

Her back and neck ached, as though she had been lying flat on her back for ages. Her eyelids felt like thick, heavy curtains that didn't want to lift up, but she resisted against their weight and slowly but surely, she was able to pry them open. She blinked. Confusion swept over her as her vision cleared and gave way to a dark, unfamiliar large room styled like a traditional Japanese room with tatami flooring. Where in the world was she? How did she even get here? And why was she lying on a futon? Had she been sleeping all this time? Her mind felt foggy.

She raised herself, shaking her head in an attempt to clear away the haziness in her head. Grey eyes widened as she noticed her twin sister lying on a futon across from her. Peeling back her covers, she jumped up and rushed towards Yuzu.

"Yuzu," Karin whispered rather loudly, though she gently prodded her sister so as not to scare her.

To her growing dismay, Yuzu was not responding to her gentle wake up call. Ignoring the increasing frantic beating of her heart, she decided to pinch her twin but it yielded the same result.

"C'mon, Yuzu, wake up," Karin ordered, raising her voice but Yuzu remained motionless. "What's a matter with you? Why won't you wake up?"

Although it was reassuring to see that her sister's chest was rising and falling, it was freaky to see her lying dormant. Why was she in some kind of deep sleep? She had obviously been in the same position as her.

Glancing around the room, she spotted Ichigo on the other side of the room. She raced over, hoping she could wake him up.

"Ichi-nii," she said, shaking him none too gently, as soon as she dropped by his side.

Her brother, however, remained still.

As she continued to shake him, she began to wonder if he was even in his body. She wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't. Maybe they were here because it was related to his Shinigami duties…She didn't have the faintest idea why that would be the case, but it was the only plausible explanation she could come up with….

Sparing a glance away from her brother, she realized that her father was lying on the futon beside Ichigo. She really wasn't keen on the idea of trying to wake him, but she was glad to see he appeared to be okay.

"O-Ow, h-hey, quit it will ya? I'm awake…"

Karin blinked down in surprise to see bleary amber eyes peering at her.

"Ichi-nii?" Karin queried, immediately releasing him.

Ichigo stared at her, wrinkling his brow.

"K-Karin," he muttered, after a moment. "What's a matter? Why were you waking me up?"

"Ichi-nii, I'm not sure what's going on, but it seems we've been kidnapped or something.

"K-Kidnapped?" Ichigo repeated, looking startled. "W-What are you talking about?"

"Take a look around you, this isn't our house. I can't remember what happened. All I know is that I woke up here with you, Yuzu, and Oyaji sleeping next to me. I tried to wake up Yuzu but she appears to be in some deep sleep. I haven't bothered with Goat Chin yet, but he's sleeping.

Ichigo surveyed his surroundings, looking slightly confused. "D-Don't worry, Karin. I don't think we've been kidnapped."

"Really? Then do you know what happened? Is this because you're a Shinigami?"

"W-What?" Ichigo sputtered, shocked.

"Ichi-nii, we've been through this, I know you're a Shinigami. There's no point in pretending you aren't. You transformed right in front of me, remember? Did you think I was gonna think it was a dream or something? I used to tell myself that, but I know better than that now thanks to old Don Kanonji. So, are we here because you're a Shinigami?"

"Er, well," Ichigo started. "I'm not really sure, but probably…"

"Don't tell me you can't remember, either?" Karin said, sounding both shocked and disappointed.

"S-Sorry, my memory's kinda hazy."

"Well, we need to figure out we're we are then," Karin declared. "And why we were even brought here…"

"R-Right," Ichigo agreed. "Let me check this place out and I'll be back as soon as I find out," he said, as he lifted the covers away from his body. Karin reached out to him, placing a hand on his arm. "Wait, I want to come with you."

"No, you should stay here with Yuzu. She'd freak out if she'd wake up by herself. Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'm sure we weren't kidnapped. It's just probably…"

"It's just who?" Karin wondered.

"Uh, well…" Ichigo said, looking uncomfortable.

"C'mon, Ichi-nii, tell me. You need to stop hiding stuff from me."

Suddenly there was a light sliding noise as a door across from them opened.

"W-Who are you?" Karin wondered, as a woman with dark hair and aquamarine eyes poked her head through the opening she had created.

"You're awake," she noted, sounding mildly surprised. "Knew it was only a matter of time before this would happen," she said, speaking to her herself than to anyone in particular. "He should have listened to me…"

"Who are you lady? Why'd you drug us and bring us here?" Karin demanded.

Kūkaku slid open the door and stepped through.

Ichigo's eyes widened slightly as he caught sight of her exposed bosom poking through her red robe.

Out of the corner of her eye, Karin noticed this, frowning slightly. She knew her brother was a guy, but she'd never seen him get such an excited look over a woman. She could almost see drool forming from his lips. It was disgusting.

"Ichi-nii, do you know her?" Karin asked.

"N-No," he admitted, a few moments later. "Who are you?"

"The name's Shiba Kūkaku. I'll explain what I can but know that you're here for your safety."

"Safety?" Karin repeated, skeptically. "I'm pretty sure I was safe at home until you came and drugged my family and me. Why did you do that?"

"Listen, kid, I didn't do it. I'm just your hostess. It's a long story but you're a lot safer here than at home."

"I really doubt it."

Before Kūkaku could say something, a distant roar could be heard.

Karin and Ichigo froze.

"You heard that? That's a—"

"A Hollow," Ichigo said.

"That's right. There are hordes of them cropping up all over the place. Unless you want to their meal, then you're better off staying here. We have a pretty strong barrier set up to protect us from them. Not that I couldn't handle those brutes…"

"Are you a Shinigami like Ichi-nii, or something?"

Kūkaku looked surprised for a moment.

"You could say that," Kūkaku said.

Ishida Ryūken's gaze was unreadable as he gazed out into the dark forest beyond him. Smoke twisted and swirled in a hazy endless flow from the cigarette perched amid his thin, frowning lips. He stood in the shadow of a large, rectangular object. Behind him stood an enormous cylindrical chimney that extended into the sky from a small house with a peaked roof bordered by stone monuments shaped like human hands holding a huge banner. A few lamps were set on the backside of the house where Ryūken stood providing some illumination.

He continued smoking, gazing out into the distance.

A few minutes later, a figure loomed out of the shadows and moved toward his direction.

"Urahara," Ryūken proclaimed, releasing his cigarette from his lips when a figure clothed in dark protective clothing appeared thirty feet away. Some pale blonde hair was just slightly visible in the eye openings of Kisuke's strange outfit.

"Ishida-san," Kisuke greeted, halting for a moment as he held out his gloved covered hands in front of him, as though touching something invisible there. He muttered some words and a glow ignited in front of him as an opening was revealed. He went through it at once and the barrier resealed itself behind him.

"How'd it go?" Ryūken asked, after taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Well, I would have preferred to be indulging in a nice cup of green tea," he replied lightly, though there was an undercurrent of weariness.

Ryūken closed his eyes as he took another drag. "Things are bad, aren't they?"

Kisuke sighed. "The cure has been distributed around the surrounding area. I've heard from the Onmitsukidō that the cure has been distributed in many of the hard hit areas, but I'm afraid only time will tell how many infected Souls will survive. For many it's in all probability too late while for others it will be dependent on their safety. If I had prepared the Soul Society against this particular threat, the survival rate would be much higher than it currently is."

"If the Shinigami had been more mindful of its personnel, there wouldn't be a war," Ryūken pointed out coldly.

Kisuke inclined his head slightly, permitting a shadow to cloud his eyes for a moment. "Yes, well, Aizen has carried out his deception quite well. He's never been linked to any sort of wrongdoing. "

"Evidently, but it's shameful of the Shinigami to have failed to capture him now that he's shown his true face, especially when the fate of Karakura rested in their hands. He could have easily appeared here in the Soul Society and finished off Karakura if he hadn't decided to unleash the virus. The virus may be devastating to the Soul Society but it has given Karakura a chance."

"That is the bright side," Urahara allowed, "but it doesn't change that it's by a little less than a fortnight."

"The result would have been the same even if you had attempted to prepare the Soul Society and you know it. It's pointless to pretend otherwise. The virus he's using is different than the one he used on Kurosaki. That cure wouldn't have been as effective as the one you've developed for his new strain. The Soul Society would be in a far worse shape if you hadn't deduced that Aizen had likely decided to use the virus after all and had Shihōin investigate Rukongai. It was an unexpected tactic, but you've done what you can to mitigate the damage dealt by Aizen's double edged sword."

Kisuke stared at him for a moment, a small grin playing at the corner of his lips. "I'm afraid I can't take all the credit, Ishida-san. If it weren't for you, there never would have been any cure in the first place."

"Don't remind me."

"Well, it's the truth, Ishida-san. The Soul Society is indebted to you more so than me."

"I never intended to help the Shinigami, only him."

"Isshin-san only meant to help one Quincy, but by default preserved a clan. And by returning the favor, you have helped preserve an entire world. There's a certain amount of poetic justice there, don't you think?"

"Hardly," Ryūken said, narrowing his eyes.

"I suppose not," Kisuke conceded, sounding slightly apologetic. "Well, not completely anyway, but to an extent it is…"

Ryūken said nothing, as he smoked.

"Urahara-dono, Kūkaku-sama requests your audience. Two of our guests have awoken," said, a giant man with a long face and normal chin dressed in an outfit befitting of a sailor.

"Oh my, is that so? I suppose I should have gotten around to making sure they wouldn't awaken," Kisuke said, more to himself than to anyone around him. "Oh well…Shiroganehiko-san, please tell Kūkaku-san that I will be right there as soon as I get cleaned up."

"Yes, Sir!"

Tōshirō walked briskly across the Fifth Division grounds. The air was rife with a palpable edginess that was sharper than in his own division. The latest reports he had viewed had stated that the Fifth Division along with the Third and Sixth had had a new resurgence of sick soldiers. He had been relieved to know Hinamori had not been among the sick, but nonetheless he had been eager to see her for himself. He knew the latest development must have made her feel worse. Last night she had been rather shocked and upset to learn just how far back Aizen's treachery went. He had been afraid she might suffer a relapse due to the news, but she had surprisingly accepted Kurosaki-taichō's story without tearing up or attempting to disprove it. Though her acceptance made him feel somewhat comforted, he couldn't help but feel concerned for Hinamori. He knew that inside she had to be beating herself up, because she had been following Aizen for years without so much as having the slightest inkling of what he was up to. He didn't hold it against her, but he knew Hinamori well enough to know, she had to feel responsible for failing to notice his wrong doings.

A part of him did wish she would have noticed, but perhaps, it was for the best that she hadn't. Aizen might have killed her if she had. Now that he knew what Kyōka Suigetsu's power was, he wondered if the reason she hadn't been able to notice Aizen's wrongdoings was more so Kyōka Suigetsu affecting her senses rather than solely her blind admiration as Aizen had put it.

"You should learn this well, Hitsugaya-kun. Admiration is the emotion furthest from understanding."

Emotions did blind, he knew that much, but it didn't sit well with him that Aizen had made it seem as though her devotion to him had been the only blindfold he needed to manipulate her and keep her oblivious to his treachery. He was fairly certain if Hinamori would have caught on to signs of Aizen's true nature, she would have questioned his integrity. She had been willing to attack him, her childhood friend, to carry out Aizen's last will despite her disbelief at the notion. Even though it had been foolhardy, she had done it out of loyalty to Aizen as well as to protect the Soul Society. She must have been affected by both Kyōka Suigetsu and her emotions. It was really the only way Aizen must have managed to hide all his deceit and maintain his immaculate guise in front of Hinamori. He was sure there had to have been times he must have slipped up, even if Hinamori was unaware of it. And furthermore, it must have been the reason why Hinamori had mentally suffered so much due to Aizen's betrayal. He must have brainwashed her psyche into reacting that way.

Noticing that he had arrived at his destination, he climbed up the steps and entered the Fifth Division headquarters. Silence greeted him as he walked down the main corridor. He rapped at Hinamori's door but received no reply. He opened it and saw that though a lone candle was lit there was no one.

"Hitsugaya-taichō, are you looking for Hinamori-fukutaichō?" asked a voice behind him.

Tōshirō turned around, recognizing the man behind him as the Fifth Division third seat.

"I am. Where is she?"

"She said she needed to take break. That was over an hour ago. I'll send for her."

"There's no need, I'll just drop by her quarters."

"If she would have gone back to her quarters, she would have told us, Sir. She still hasn't retired for the evening."

"I see. Send for her then."

"Very well, Sir," the man replied, bowing his head.

Tōshirō glanced around the room as the man closed the door behind him.

Tōshirō approached Momo's desk, his gaze raking over the neat stacks of paperwork sitting upon its surface. His eyes somewhat skimmed the top pages of the closest reports, but the words didn't really register on his brain. He'd already read enough of these reports all day. He knew it was more or less the same scenario. Their forces were succumbing to their opponents.

"Hitsugaya-taichō," the Fifth Division third seat said as he re-entered the room, carrying a tray with a tea pot and two cups, "I've sent word to Hinamori-fukutaichō that you're here. I've brought some tea that you can have while you wait for her."

He placed the tray on top of a low table across from Momo's desk. Instead of a sofa she had zabuton around it.

"Thanks, Watanabe."

Tōshirō glanced out Momo's open window for several moments, before deciding to pour himself a cup of tea. He settled himself on a zabuton as he began to sip his tea.

Hinamori, what's taking you so long? Tōshirō wondered as he drained the last drops of tea from his cup.

He stared at the door for several moments, before helping himself to another cup of tea.

As he sipped his second cup, he could feel the warmth filling his chest, lulling his senses. His eyelids fluttered, obscuring his line of sight for an instant. He blinked, shaking his head. He needed to remain awake. Hinamori would be back soon…

Warmth suffused his entire being. He felt as though he was being suffocated by the blistering heat pressing down on him. He needed ice…. Yes, pure cold ice to freeze the inferno raging within him, making him feel as though his insides were melting…He groaned as the heat stabbed at him…

"Hitsugaya-kun, wake up! It's just a dream…." said an anxious voice that sounded strangely faraway.

He tried to open his eyelids, but they felt heavy. Slowly, he managed to peek through them, spotting a familiar blurry dark shape through the shaky wooden structure framing his vision.

"Are you okay, Hitsugaya-kun?"

Before he could reply, a groan escaped his lips as another wave of pain swept through him. He moved, feeling a cushion underneath his side. He could feel his neck throb and was vaguely aware he must have fallen asleep on the floor in front of the low table.

"What's wrong?" Momo asked anxiously, as she stepped forward and went around the table.

"S-Stay back, Hinamori," he croaked, burying his head onto the floor, away from her.

"But, Shirō-chan…"

"I-I'm s-sick…Y-You need to stay away from me…"

"Y-You're sick?" Momo exclaimed, looking shocked.

"Y-Yes," he muttered, shutting his eyes.

"Oh no, Shirō-chan! I'll call the Fourth Division!"

"H-Hurry," he groaned.

"H-Hai," Momo stammered, rushing out of the room.

With every passing hour, ancient creases and folds had deepened, springing forth new furrows, almost as though his body was recording the number of victims claimed every minute. He would have preferred to be taking the brunt of a physical attack in order to stop this senseless destruction and devastation, but instead, he was simply confined to reading and hearing the reports of the terrible chaos ravaging Rukongai, even the Seireitei…

Death continued to claw through the Soul Society in spite of the Onmitsukidō and Shinigami soldiers' efforts to halt it. Its reach was vast and persistent and could not be scorched by Ryūjin Jakka's searing flames…Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined the Soul Society would be put at the brink of a seemingly endless eradication enacted by a former member of his forces….

He could not think of him as a Shinigami…The man had obviously never had any pride as a true protector of the dead. He loathed thinking it, but Aizen Sōsuke was probably reveling in the irony that he was a true Death God because he was the harbinger of death. How that insolent brat could even pride himself on such a thing was beyond his understanding, but it was obvious the arrogance and selfishness lodged in his heart left little room for the sanctity of life. All these years he had simply pretended to care while he plotted the destruction of the Soul Society.

Over the course of the last century, he had not been blind to the signs that something was amiss in the Soul Society, he just had been unable to see that they were all connected, connected to this impertinent man hidden beneath a carefully crafted façade.

He had not really believed Urahara Kisuke had been capable of conducting Hollowfication experiments on his fellow Shinigami despite Central 46's decree. Whatever the evidence might have suggested, he had known Urahara Kisuke was not the type of man who would endanger those around him for the sake of such dangerous experimentation. He had suspected the real culprit had framed him. The former Twelfth Division taichō had been genuinely concerned about his former fukutaichō that night. He had been certain of it. He had often wondered if the real offender had been someone Urahara Kisuke had been familiar with. The blonde man had seemed to know a lot of unsavory characters due to his work with the Onmitsukidō. He had reasoned that that could have been a potential reason why the evidence had been planted in his room. He had hoped to uncover this answer from him, but alas, he had never been found by the Onmitsukidō in the Soul Society or the World of the Living. Despite never being officially sighted in the latter, he had long determined that he and the others along with Shihōin Yoruichi, whom he had suspected had helped them flee, had taken up residence there. His hunch had been proven true with Shihōin Yoruichi's return to the Soul Society. He had a brief discussion with the former Onmitsukidō commander where he gathered just enough information to realize it had been Aizen who had framed Urahara.

It was only then that he figured Aizen Sōsuke must have had a hand in Kurosaki Isshin's incarceration as well. He had had misgivings over it as had Unohana-taichō, but without evidence they had been unable to do anything to disprove his crime. It had been a surprise to realize that Kurosaki Ichigo, the Ryoka boy, was his flesh and blood (mainly because he had courted a Human woman). He had been aware of the possibility that he could be alive existed, if he hadn't been exposed to the virus that had killed his family. Central 46 had informed him that Kurosaki Isshin had escaped the clutches of his guards due to an ambush of some sort although they had officially proclaimed him dead to avoid public embarrassment. They had unofficially sought to find him though that never happened.

These two major incidents had greatly troubled and disturbed him, but he had never been able to ascertain any hints of who could have actually done them, or that they were interrelated. He had always believed the threat was from outside the Gotei 13. How wrong he had been for believing that. He had to admit begrudgingly that it made sense that the greatest menace to the Soul Society would be a threat from within. No other enemy would have been able to continue their existence as long as Aizen had or inflict as much damage as Aizen was doing. He had undeniably been studying and observing how the Seireitei worked. He had cunningly used the system to displace all blame from him, allowing him to continue his experimentation all this time, and had even managed to become the real authority behind Kuchiki Rukia's execution…

It brought him great shame to know he had played right into Aizen's hands by failing to see past his façade, past the questionable orders…. It irked him to admit it but Kyōraku Shunsui and Ukitake Jūshirō had been right not to ignore their instincts. Their individual justice had in fact been a global justice. He wondered, however, if they would have done the same without the distraction of the Ryoka. If they hadn't arrived then Aizen wouldn't have needed to speed up the execution date. It was a moot point. Deep down, he knew Kurosaki Ichigo was meant to appear here and guide them towards such a conclusion. Urahara Kisuke had obviously sent him and his companions to stop the execution.

From the information he had managed to gather from the kozō and his allies after Aizen's flight, he had surmised that had been Urahara Kisuke's intention even though they had not been aware of Aizen's true nature and had failed to prevent him from obtaining the Hōgyoku hidden within Kuchiki Rukia. It was also then that he deduced Kurosaki Ichigo was oblivious to his actual heritage and hadn't acted in revenge for the grievances committed against his father. It was rather strange yet fitting how things had played out thanks to Urahara Kisuke's prudence.

Urahara Kisuke had inherently known Aizen would make his move since the seal he had placed upon the Hōgyoku was due to break. He had managed to get this fact out of Shihōin Yoruichi when he chatted with her, and Kurotsuchi's report had affirmed that the seal had a rough lifespan of a century. The details as to how Aizen Sōsuke had discovered where the Hōgyoku was hidden or how Urahara Kisuke had been certain Kuchiki Rukia's fate would be decided by Aizen himself eluded him, but he was genuinely impressed by the former Twelfth Division taichō's insight and his attempt to stop the treachery assailing the Soul Society. It had been the reason he had been willing to enlist his help in the Winter War.

It was undeniable that his aid had been crucial thus far in the war. The Garganta and Tenkai Kecchu he had created had been an immense help, and he had even provided the cure for the terrible malady afflicting the Soul Society. Kurosaki Isshin had informed him during the one on one meeting they had after he had dropped off the cure to the Twelfth Division that Urahara Kisuke had been examining the possibility that Aizen Sōsuke had resorted to utilizing the virus he had tested upon the Kurosaki Clan all those years ago since Aizen had fled, which his why he had at least voiced his belief that the Soul Society had about two weeks before Aizen would attack before he had received concrete proof from Shihōin Yoruichi's reconnaissance.

In spite of everything, he could not say he was entirely pleased with his past research or his help in converting a Human into a Shinigami-Hollow hybrid, even if said Human was actually the son of a Shinigami. He really shouldn't have attempted the former in the first place let alone the latter. His tendency to dabble into murky waters and remarkable cunning made him question just how coincidental was the power transfer between Kurosaki Ichigo and Kuchiki Rukia…Nothing ever seemed to be a mere coincidence when it came to Urahara Kisuke…He had obviously used the former situation to his advantage in more ways than one.

The Soul Society's current predicament and his audacity to create a time travel device in spite of his obvious mistake in creating the Hōgyoku were beginning to make him ponder whether Kurosaki Masaki had really appeared here by pure chance, or if perhaps there was an ulterior reason for her being sent into the past despite her insistence otherwise? Could it be that she had been sent by him without her knowledge or consent? It certainly wasn't out of the question though he could not fathom how that would help the future…It was a huge gamble by Urahara Kisuke to rely on that little girl to alter the course of history for the better if that's what he had had intended…

Whether it was a ploy by Urahara Kisuke or not, he did not like Kurosaki Masaki's presence all the same…He only hoped that the Soul Society would be preserved…

"Yamamoto-sōtaichō," a familiar voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

"What is it, Sasakibe?" he asked, expecting another round of reports.

"I've brought you tea, Sir."

The soothing smell of green tea filled his nostrils within seconds. He hadn't realized it was his tea time already. Chōjirō usually prepared some for him, though he never indulged some himself. He always made a separate batch of black tea for himself since he hated green tea.

"Very well," he muttered, welcoming the welcome distraction of his favorite drink.

A light mist swathed the multitude of tombstones erected alongside the stone encrusted path where two short white haired Shihakushō clothed figures treaded. Their small but purposeful steps hardly registered in the chilly night air. The female Shinigami had her white locks pulled into a ponytail except for bangs that parted over unreadable teal eyes that were fixed upon the road before her. A bright blue sash was slung across her shoulders held together by a silver snowflake pin which allowed her to transport a sky blue hilted Zanpakutō with a six-point bronze snow flake shaped guard on her back. The sheath containing her Zanpakutō was dark blue. The male Shinigami at her side had spiky white hair that nearly matched her own except rivulets of red flowed upward against the white like billowing flames. He even wore a sash like hers except it was bright red with a bronze flame pin. His Zanpakutō's hilt was red-orange and it had a flame shaped guard. Its sheath was burgundy. His chocolate gaze would occasionally steal somber glances at the darkened pillars of distinct sizes cutting across the mist encircling them.

As the path curved, they traveled uphill for a bit surrounded by strong, imposing trees, which made them look absolutely miniscule. When the road leveled off, they were once again bordered by tomb stones on either side.

The female Shinigami lengthened her stride as they approached the end of the rows of monuments on the right-hand side of the path, but the male Shinigami lingered behind, his gazed fixed on the other side of the road. As she came to a halt at the end of the road where a simple square monument sat inscribed with five characters, the male continued walking.

"Hitoshi, over here," she ordered quietly but sharply, her gaze still focused on the tombstone.

"Sorry," he muttered. "S-So this is it, huh?" he said, quickly standing by her side to stare at the grave.

"W-Why did you want to come look at this grave again, Nee-chan?"

She didn't say anything for a moment, as she stared at the gray stone.

"B-Because I don't think it should be here…" she declared slowly, her expression pensive.

"W-What are you talking about?" her brother glanced at her surprised. "Don't tell me you think it's wrong for this Masaki guy to be buried here just because we don't know his last name or what division he came from…He died in the war just like everyone else…"

"That's not what I'm saying," she said, her gaze still fixated upon the tombstone.

"Then, what are you saying, Ran?" he demanded, staring at her disconcerted. "I honestly don't get why you dragged me in the middle of the night to visit the Seireiteizen. Why was it so important for you to come here so suddenly?"

"This shouldn't be here because she shouldn't have been there in the first place. It wasn't her war…"

He stared at his sister, surprised. "She? Masaki is a guy's name. And more importantly, why are you talking about this guy as if you know firsthand what happened back then…"

"Masaki isn't necessarily a name for males. The kanji for elegant and tree in this case is perfectly gender neutral."

"What are you talking about? Elegant tree seems like the name of some snotty nobleman," he replied. "No offense," he added hastily, with an apologetic head bow at the gravestone in question.

"Well, in this case, I know it's a she and she wasn't snotty at all even If she was a noble…" she said, her expression distant.

"And how do you know this exactly, Nee-chan?" The child like male wondered, looking puzzled and concerned.

"Aisuryūmaru helped me remember her. She was our nakama…Somehow she went back in time and never made it back…." she explained somberly.

"W-What? I don't remember her…What kind of crackpot stories is Aisuryūmaru telling you? Or did you just dream this up?"

"It's not a dream, Hitoshi, it's the truth. Even though I had forgotten, Aisuryūmaru still remembered his old sparring partner. He showed me what I had forgotten. Go ahead and ask Enkōryūmaru."

He stared at his sister for a moment, before he closed his eyes and placed a hand on the hilt protruding from his back. A few moments later, chocolate brown eyes resurfaced, glittering with shock and sorrow.

"I-I can't believe, it's true…Masaki…w-was our nakama…. How could I forget?" Hitoshi looked distraught. "H-H-How did this happen? I-I don't get it…"

"I-I don't know how she got there, but I guess that affected our memories somehow, but not our Zanpakutō. Past battles are inscribed in them."

"No wonder you said she didn't belong here…She really didn't…"

"I know," she murmured, her teal gaze shining with sadness.

"T-This is awful…I can't believe she's really gone…"

"Perhaps, she doesn't have to be," Ran said, after a moment, a considerate look upon her features.

Hitoshi gaped at his sister. "You mean…"

There was a brief lull of silence before a male voice behind them said, "What are you two doing here?"

The two short Shinigami whirled around, their hands flying to their Zanpakutō but they relaxed their hold upon noticing who it was.

"K-Kurosaki-taichō," the male stammered. "W-What are you doing here?"

An older, solemn faced Ichigo with longer bangs and hair that extends a few inches past his neck is standing behind them dressed in a Shihakushō with a long sleeved white haori over it.

"I have a reason to be here, but you two don't, especially not at this hour."

"Kurosaki-taichō, we came because we remembered who Masaki was. Don't you remember?" Hitoshi said urgently.

Ichigo frowned. "What are you talking about? I never met the guy and neither have you…"

"Yes, we have, and so have you. You've just forgotten. All you have to do is ask Zangetsu and he'll tell you about your daughter…"

Ichigo looked bewildered. "What the hell are you talking about? Are you on drugs or something? I don't have a daughter."

"Not anymore, but you… did," Hitoshi said, gesturing to the tombstone behind them.

"Hitsugaya-fukutaichō," Ichigo said through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowed, "I don't know what you've been drinking or smoking, or if you've moved on to sick pranks, but the person buried here is not my so-called daughter. I never had one…"

"Not in this reality," Ran said matter of fact. "But you had one…and a wife…before Masaki somehow went to the past and—"

"Third Seat Hitsugaya, you've picked a hell of time to help out your brother with a terrible prank like this. Do you really expect me to believe such—"

"Kurosaki-taichō, I don't expect you to believe me or my brother, but you should at least believe your Zanpakutō. Ask him, he will remind you of what you've forgotten…"

"I'm not going to waste my time doing that when you're both clearly not of your right minds. How dare you stand on these sacred grounds and—"

"We're not on drugs or drunk," Hitoshi interjected desperately. "And I'm not trying to prank you. I wouldn't joke about something like this."

"Sorry, but I don't buy it."

"Kuchiki Rukia was your wife…" Ran declared.

Ichigo stared at her thunderstruck.

"Masaki, your daughter, had her violet eyes and your hair color…"

"That's enough!" Ichigo shouted, looking thoroughly aggravated. "How dare you say such bullshit! Y-You're just making all this up. You must have seen her pictures in the paper and seen what they've written about us, but R-Rukia and I weren't like that."

"You were supposed to be," Ran said firmly.

Ichigo gave her a dark glare. "You have no idea what you're talking about. You've never even met her. She died over a century ago."

"We have met her," Hitoshi said. "She's taller than us, and…"

"Shut up, Hitsugaya," Ichigo snapped.

"But Kurosaki-taichō," Hitoshi protested.

"Whatever you say is nothing but lies. You don't know anything about her." Ichigo said, glowering at both Hitsugayas. "I've heard of enough. Both of you leave now."

"Fine, don't believe us, but we'll make sure she gets saved along with Masaki…"

"There's no way you kids could even do such a thing. Time travel isn't possible. If it existed I would have gone back and saved Rukia a long time ago," Ichigo said, his gaze glittering with sorrow and regret underneath the anger.

"It does exist. Otherwise Masaki wouldn't have been able to do it," Hitoshi said.

"Masaki is some unknown soldier who passed away in the war. Stop acting as though you know her," Ichigo demanded. "She isn't related to me…"

"Not in this screwed up timeline, but she will be," Hitoshi said steadfastly.

"No, she won't. Stop saying that," Ichigo growled, suddenly releasing a burst of Reiatsu that made Hitoshi and Ran's hair sway violently as they struggled to maintain their balance. A harsh crackling noise rent the air as the tombstone behind them crumbled under the pressure. The chipped pieces swirled away into nothing as Hitoshi and Ran gazed in shock.

Violescent eyes burst open.

Breathing hard, Masaki gaped at the darkness.

"M-Masaki, are you all right?" Rukia queried groggily from her futon.

"Ka—Kuchiki-san, it's nothing," Masaki replied, her voice somewhat shaky. "I…" she hesitated. "I had a bad dream, that's all." Her gaze was focused on the dark ceiling above her.

"I see. Do you want to…talk about it?" Rukia asked softly, after a beat.

"Not really. It was… just a stupid nightmare. I'm sorry for waking you," Masaki murmured.

Rukia stared at her, wondering if nightmares had troubled her the night before. It was probably the case. Her worries appeared to be manifesting themselves in her dreams. It was only natural since she truly must be worried despite her efforts to appear as composed as possible…She could empathize with her situation although it wasn't exactly the same. She had been worried about overstaying her time in the World of the Living and its repercussions, though in her case, she had to admit she had found it somewhat enjoyable. She had never really allowed herself to actually consider staying permanently and becoming Human though. And even if she had, the difference between her doing such a thing and Masaki staying permanently in the past were drastically different. She wouldn't have lost family or friends since her adoptive brother hadn't been much of a brother and she had long lost Renji. Masaki, on the other hand, would technically lose all her relationships and permanently alter all that she knew…It was truly a precarious situation to be in.

"It's okay, Masaki. It's just about my usual wake up time. You should try getting more sleep, Masaki. You don't have to be up this early," Rukia said, rising and throwing back her covers.

"N-No, I'd rather get up. I'm used to getting up early."

"Okay, Masaki."

They dressed and had breakfast. Unlike the morning before, Masaki put more effort in conversing, which Rukia read as a sign that the young woman wanted to assure her that she was fine and unperturbed. She couldn't help but get the sense that the young woman had been self-conscious about her nightmare. Before leaving for the Thirteenth Division, she informed Masaki she was free to use the training grounds again and that she would like to train with her upon her return.

Masaki stood on a frozen diamond formation surrounded by swirling mist. Water gently lapped at her ice formation.

"I have no interest in fighting you if that's what you want, Masaki," declared a cold voice from across the icy water. "You should have finished the fight with Zabimaru."

Hyōketsu Kiri's back was turned. Her long, dark purple wavy tresses covered her back. She was also standing upon a diamond shaped ice.

"That's not why I came, Hyōketsu Kiri," Masaki replied.

"Is that so? Then are you here to vent your frustrations?"

"No. I want to know if it's possible for you to communicate with Aisuryūmaru."

"You want me to communicate with Aisuryūmaru?" Hyōketsu Kiri echoed, sounding surprised. "Why would you even think such a thing is possible?"

Masaki hesitated. "I-I had a dream whereAisuryūmaruand Enkōryūmaru helped Ran and Toshi remember us even though…we had died… in this war…It made me think maybe there's a way you could talk to other Zanpakutō."

"Hmph. You're still letting your thoughts get to you even in your sleep," Hyōketsu Kiri said disapprovingly.

"It's not my fault. I really tried to clear my mind last night, but I can't help it if dream anyway…"

"You let Senbonzakura'swielder affect you," the nymph like woman stated coldly, turning around. Lavender eyes glared at Masaki.

Masaki looked slightly surprised, before she glanced away from Hyōketsu Kiri. "I tried not to…" she muttered.

"You should have just told him what's to come."

"W-What?" Masaki gazed at the nymph woman in shock.

"Don't look at me like that. You know you wanted to. It would have eased your mind and heart if you had told him…"

Masaki swallowed. "I-I was tempted to, but I couldn't do it..."

"Why not?"

"I didn't come here to change the past…"

"Maybe you didn't come here for that purpose, Masaki, but the opportunity is now before you. Haven't you always wanted to change things?"

Masaki stared at Hyōketsu Kiri for a long moment. "I've made my peace with it a long time ago. I hate to say it but maybe it happened for a reason."

"Is that how you see it now? Well, perhaps, you are here for a reason too. You can fix anything you want…" Hyōketsu Kiri insisted.

"The only reason I'm here is because I made a mistake," Masaki declared flatly. "I've done enough of them lately. I'm not about to try to fix things only to make them worse. All I care about is returning to where I belong, which who knows when it'll happen. Tell me, Hyōketsu Kiri, is there any way you can try to contact Aisuryūmaru or Enkōryūmaru?

Hyōketsu Kiri stared at Masaki, pondering her question.

"I do not have such an ability. Only Zanpakutō that have been bonded have a connection that allows them to transcend distance, perhaps, even time itself…"

"Only bonded Zanpakutō?" Masaki repeated, disappointed.

"That is correct."

"Damn it…." Masaki muttered, curling her fists.

"Even if I was able to do it, it wouldn't change your situation,"Hyōketsu Kiri pointed out.

"I know, but they'd at least know I'm alive…As things are now, they have no clue what's happened to me."

"It'd be pointless to tell them that, and you know it," Hyōketsu Kiri said matter of fact, her dark lavender eyes piercing Masaki.

Amethyst eyes flashed.

"Don't say that…" Masaki said annoyed.

"Well, it's the truth, whether you like it or not. The fact you are no longer present with them is the same as—"

"Shut up. As long as I'm alive, I will find a way to go back, which is why they need to know I am alive."

Hyōketsu Kiri merely stared at her. "You should be more worried about staying alive than trying to tell them you're alive. If you die, then you will simply be making your stay here permanent."

Masaki frowned slightly.

"Combat is the only thing I can help you do. If you don't want that, then you better look elsewhere."

Masaki merely stared at the ground, a contemplative look on her face.

Hyōketsu Kiri turned her back once more as a thick fog flooded the area around her.

Masaki opened her eyes. She gazed at the pond before her, her expression still pensive.

"Mini Ichi!"

"Yachiru-chan," Masaki said, glancing at the eyes peering at her from above her head. The Eleventh Division fukutaichō had landed on her head. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to play with you again!" Yachiru beamed, leaping down beside her.

"Yachiru-chan that's nice of you, but you shouldn't have come. Kuchiki-taichō would prefer that you stay away…"

"So what? I can come if I want to. I beat him fair and square yesterday."

"I know, but—" Masaki began, but Yachiru interrupted her.

"Don't worry, Mini Ichi, I don't feel like staying here anyway. Let's go play somewhere else."

"Don't let your guard up," Rukia told a baby faced raven haired girl, who had just tumbled to the ground after allowing her opponent an opportunity to overwhelm her.

"G-Gomen," the girl replied, climbing to her feet shakily.

"Just do better next time," Rukia said. "Go again," she commanded, and the girl nodded, looking nervous and fatigued as she resumed her battle stance in front of her waiting opponent, a young man with caramel haired tied into a long pony tail.

She watched them continue their training for a bit, giving the young girl a few pointers, before she drifted to the other duelers nearby. She had been assigned by Third Seat Kotetsu to oversee the training of the least inexperienced recruits. It was an unexpected assignment. She had been expecting to perhaps hear she might finally be needed on the front lines seeing as soldiers kept falling, but Third Seat Kotetsu had instead ordered her to hold an impromptu morning training session. She had explained that Ukitake-taichō felt that the war would reach the Seireitei soon since the Hollows kept advancing all across Rukongai and that it would be more sensible for her to prepare the younger recruits for the battles that were bound to erupt.

She hadn't exactly felt pleased to hear her task. She didn't feel that she was qualified enough, but evidently all the seated officers were preoccupied with some task or another and Ukitake-taichō had felt she would be up to the task. Ukitake-taichō had evidently revealed to Third Seat Kotetsu that she had defeated an Espada in Hueco Mundo and she had been very encouraging when she had questioned why she had been selected. While it did make her somewhat proud that her abilities were being recognized, she felt still uneasy about training others. She had many leagues to go herself, but as she led her charges through some drills and eventually paired them off for one on one duels she was reminded of just how much she had progressed.

Watching them train reminded her of her struggles when first joining the Thirteenth Division. In some ways, some of them appeared to have even less talent in Zanjutsu than she did. She partly suspected the mounting war time pressure around the Seireitei was affecting them. They had seemed rather sullen and anxious when she had collected them. She didn't blame them for being nervous about the current state of affairs, but she had tried her best to instill focus and determination in them. Some were now faring better than before now that they've seemed to get into the groove of their training, but others continued to be affected by their nerves. She hoped the latter would find courage and strength when immersed in battle if they indeed came to it. There was only so much she could do to prepare them, and even so it would not be the same as actual battle.

"Good job, Takenouchi. Keep it up," Rukia said, as she came around to the girl she had watched fall earlier. She had successfully deflected her opponent's attacks.

"Hai, Kuchiki-senpai."

She had felt kinda odd being called that, but the recruits had settled for referring to her as such since she was an unseated officer like them, but their senior and acting mentor. She couldn't get them to address her simply as Kuchiki.

"Chiba, make you sure you don't take it easy on her," she said, glancing at the pony tailed male. "Both of you should be giving it your all."

He simply nodded.

"Rukia," she heard someone call her from behind.

She turned, startled to see Ichigo heading toward her.

"Ichigo," she greeted, as he drew near her.

"Rukia," he returned the greeting. "Shouldn't you be giving them a refresher course on how to whack Hollow heads off? It'll probably be much more useful than simply sparring," Ichigo said, a vague outline of a grin forming on his lips for a split second.

"We already went through some drills," she informed him, getting the sense something wasn't quite right. A weary, downtrodden air hung about Ichigo. His somber gaze was fixed upon the soldiers.

"Maybe you should do some more…I don't think it would hurt…It might keep 'em alive longer…"

She gazed at him for a moment longer, before asking, "Ichigo, is something the matter? Did something happen?"

He stiffened and said quietly, "It's Chado."

"Sado?" Rukia queried, furrowing her brow in concern. "What's wrong with him?"

"He got sick. Some Eleventh Division idiot who contracted the virus attacked him and infected him. Apparently he did it in a fit of delirium from the fever he had. Some of his other colleagues also got infected. That dumb ass should have gotten help the minute he felt something. It would have prevented this whole mess," Ichigo muttered bitterly.

"He should have," agreed Rukia, "but is Sado all right?"

Ichigo swallowed. "I'm not really sure. Nobody is allowed to see him. Yumichika just said he and the others were being treated, but he hadn't received exact word on their condition. Apparently they're too busy trying to care for them."

"He'll be fine, Ichigo. We have the cure now remember? It's just probably gonna take some time for him to recover."

"Yeah, I know, but I still wish I could see him."

"I know it's hard not to be able to see him, but you can't let this affect your resolve to do battle when the time comes. I think Aizen in part chose to use this virus to demoralize us. War is a terrible act as it is, but this virus is creating a lot of hopelessness and despair even before facing an actual enemy. Too many know colleagues who are sick, or have lost them… Grief and sadness are getting to many people. Even these guys right here. Neither they or you, or even I can allow ourselves to let fear and despair consume us. If we do, then we will be forfeiting our lives along with the Seireitei and the World of the Living when we head to battle."

"I know that, Rukia," Ichigo said, after a beat. "I just wish that coward would show his face and fight us head on instead of hurting innocent people. He makes me sick…Too many innocent people are being hurt because of his selfishness…Too many of the people I care about have been hurt by him…You…Oyaji…Inoue…Sado…I just want to put an end to this stupid war already."

Rukia gazed at him. "So do I…Ichigo, I'm sorry for dragging you into this war."

"It's not your fault, Rukia. I made my choice, and besides even if you hadn't saved me my family and I would have probably died and still had to deal with the effects of this war anyway."

Rukia stared at him surprised. "I suppose you're right…"

"Why are you even bringing up that anyway?"

"It's just that you and everyone else would not have been dragged into the front lines of this war if it weren't for me…"

"Don't even think about it, Rukia. Nothing that has happened or will happen to us is your fault. We'll get through this war. I'll make sure of it…"

There he was again, promising to protect everyone. He didn't want her to feel responsible yet Rukia knew deep down he must be feeling somewhat responsible for being unable to protect Sado even if it wasn't something he could protect him from, which was part of the reason he was eager for battle. She would have to keep him preoccupied until then though. She didn't want him to wallow in thoughts about Sado.

"Don't worry about anyone, but you, Ichigo. We can protect ourselves. We survived, Hueco Mundo, didn't we?" Rukia said. "We'll get through this too…"

"That's right," Ichigo nodded, grinning slightly.

There was a moment of silence.

"I guess I should probably leave you to your duties…"

"Wait, Ichigo. I'm almost done here. We can continue yesterday's training if you want?"

"All right," he agreed after a moment.

The cool autumn air felt crisp and refreshing like cucumbers. Its constant icy caress nearly felt as soothing as cucumbers pressed against her face at a spa. It was nowhere as relaxing, but at the very least it was helping her ease her mind and heart a little. In a way, it almost felt like Hitsugaya-taichō was around. Almost.

It was nowhere near as cold as it would be if her taichō was actually utilizing Hyōrinmaru. Normally she hated cold weather, but she wished the air was bone chilling. It would mean her taichō was fine…. The colder it got, the happier he was…

She hoped he was feeling better now. The little guy wasn't the best patient. He absolutely loathed being bed ridden especially under the influence of a fever…He hated the heat…And from what she heard from Hinamori, he had definitely been suffering from an extreme fever.

She couldn't believe her taichō had actually contracted that lethal virus Aizen had concocted. He had been perfectly fine all day and as far as she had known he hadn't made contact with anyone that had been sick...

It was terrible how just like that her taichō had been left bed ridden, fighting for his life…

It made her heart ache to think that if Hinamori hadn't found him, he would have probably succumbed to the virus. According to the medics that had treated him, the virus had done considerable damage in such a short amount of time due to his high Reiryoku level. The last she heard they were continuing to monitor his condition. She had been tested herself earlier, but she had been deemed virus free. He had obviously contracted it sometime after he left the Tenth Division, though she had no clue from who or what.

She really hated not knowing how he was and not even being able to visit him…

It had been difficult for her to keep her mind on running the division. Her mind had kept drifting to him. She had worked as best as she could though, until she could no longer take it, which was why she had been taking a stroll.

She wasn't quite sure how long she had been out, but she wasn't really keen to return to the office, to the multitude of terrible reports sitting there…

She had no choice though. It was the least she could do for her taichō, who had always taken the brunt of the paperwork all these years. She needed to do her part.

Sighing, she resolved to make her way back to the Tenth Division.

"Boobies!" she heard a familiar childish voice yell behind her a few moments later.

"Yachiru, what are you doing?" Rangiku asked, startled to see the rose haired girl coming to a sudden halt before her as she turned around. Yachiru was holding onto a mildly frazzled Masaki.

"Where's Shirō-chan? We want some shaved ice," Yachiru said eagerly.

Rangiku stared at the young girl for a moment, her face falling slightly. She had obviously not heard the news. The Eleventh Division fukutaichō enjoyed pestering her taichō for shaved ice particularly in the summer months, though, it was not unusual for her to request some even in the dead of winter. She claimed no other ice was as good as his which is why she always craved it.

"I'm sorry, Yachiru, but I'm afraid the taichō is not feeling well."

"Oh no! He got sick? That's horrible. I hope he feels better soon!" Yachiru replied.

"Thanks, Yachiru. I hope so too," Rangiku murmured.

"Mini Ichi, I guess you'll have to wait to try Shirō-chan's shaved ice. Let's go eat something else."

"W-Wait," Rangiku said, holding out a hand. "How about joining me for some tea? I'm sure the taichō has some sweets lying around."

"Okay," Yachiru rapidly agreed, grinning.

Ten minutes later Yachiru and Masaki sat on one of the sofas seated across from a mahogany low table in the Tenth Division office, waiting for Rangiku to finish preparing the tea. Yachiru was bouncing around impatiently despite Masaki's attempts to get her to settle down.

"Here you go, Yachiru," Rangiku said, offering Yachiru her promised sweets after she had poured everyone's tea into their yunomi, tall ceramic tea cups.

She had struggled a bit to find her taichō's well hidden stash of candy, but in the end, she had uncovered them. He liked to pretend he was above eating them, but he had a sweet tooth just like everyone else. In truth, most of the stash consisted of candy that had been given to him by Ukitake-taichō rather than candy he had purchased himself, but she knew he would buy some himself if he had to. She knew his favorite was amanattō, beans covered in sugar and syrup. She would have to make sure to buy him some to replace what she had taken.

Yachiru eagerly snatched away the proffered candy and popped some of them into her mouth.

"Arigatō, Matsumoto-fuku—I mean san," Masaki corrected herself at Rangiku's disapproving look, as she helped herself to a cup of tea.

"You're welcome, but stop being so formal, Masaki," Rangiku warned her. "I already told you there's no need it for it."

"Sorry, it slipped. Let me pour you some tea," Masaki offered, as she lowered her cup and reached for the tea kettle. "How are you doing, Matsumoto-san?" she asked, as she poured the warm liquid into Rangiku's cup.

"Well, not bad. I wish I could say I've been having lots of fun like you girls," Rangiku replied, referring to what Yachiru had recounted during their walk to the Tenth Division office.

"You should have given your work to someone else," Yachiru said sagely, as she munched on her candy. "I always do."

"Normally, I would but…I couldn't do that with the taichō out."

For a moment the only sound was of Yachiru munching her candy as Rangiku and Masaki sipped their tea.

"Looks like your arm is as good as new, Masaki," Rangiku observed. "You found him, huh?"

"Hai, Matsumoto-san. You were right to think he might be at the Eight Division."

"Of course, I was." Rangiku grinned.

"What was wrong with your arm, Mini Ichi?" Yachiru wondered.

"I hurt it yesterday in a training exercise, but…my grandfather fixed it," Masaki explained.

"Grandfather?" Yachiru repeated.

"Do you remember my former taichō, Kurosaki Isshin? He's her grandfather and Ichigo's dad."

"Oh, I remember…Shin-Shin," Yachiru smiled. "I forgot Ken-chan mentioned he was alive. Wow, Mini Ichi, you have a lot of family members that I know."

Masaki simply gave her a small smile.

"That is true," Rangiku agreed. "I don't think I've ever met someone with so many relations in the Gotei 13."

"Mini Ichi, are you going to join your mommy's or Byakushi's division?" Yachiru wondered.

"No, Yachiru-chan. I won't be joining any division yet. It'll have to wait until this war is over," Masaki said.

"Oh, okay. I still think you should join the Eleventh Division, if you want."

"I don't know about that, Yachiru. I think the Eleventh Division has enough strong fighters as it. How about joining my division? We could use someone like you..." Rangiku grinned, winking.

"I'll have to think about it." Masaki smiled slightly.

The women continued to lightly chat as they sipped their tea.

"Do you have more candy?" Yachiru said, once she finished all the candy that had been given to her.

"I'm afraid that's it, Yachiru."

"Aww! That's too bad. I'll be right back. I'm going to get some."

"Yachiru-chan, I think we should get going. Matsumoto-san needs to be getting to work."

"Oh, I've been working all day. It's nice to get a break. I'll just finish it later."

"Ken-chan always says fun should come before work." Yachiru giggled. "I'll be right back."

"You know, the Eleventh Division at times seems like my kind of division, except for the constant fighting," Rangiku said as the pink haired Shinigami ran off.

"It's the lawlessness that would get to me," Masaki said, as she lowered her cup to the table.

"Hmmm, I guess that would be annoying, but I really do like the fact most soldiers don't bother doing paperwork. I wouldn't mind fighting to get out of doing it."

Masaki half smiled. "I wouldn't mind that either, but I'm afraid paperwork is a necessary evil."

"I don't really see the point in it. What matters is that the job gets done."

"That is what ultimately matters, but paperwork does have its uses. It helps with accountability and—"

"You sound like Hitsugaya-taichō. See you really should join the division and help with the paperwork while you're here."

"No thanks, Matsumoto-san. The only paperwork I should be doing is my own," Masaki said, creasing her eyebrows as her gaze became distant.

"Don't worry about it, Masaki. It'll be there when you get back. Think of this as a vacation," Rangiku said.

"Vacation? This is hardly what I would call a vacation," Masaki said in a low, restless tone.

"It might not be an ideal one, but you're getting a break regardless," Rangiku pointed out, smiling.

"I'd much rather be stuck in the office doing tedious paperwork than here. I shouldn't be here in the first place. It's a mistake."

"Maybe you shouldn't be, Masaki, but I'm sure they'll find a way for you to go back to the future. I know it must be tough being away from all you know, but don't let it get to you. You'll probably be buried in paperwork sooner than you think."

Masaki merely stared at her.

"I hope it is sooner than I think," she said after a moment, sounding wistful with just the slightest undertone of concern.

"You know what you need is a drink," Rangiku declared, springing up from her seat and going around behind her taichō's desk.

"W-What? No, I don't…" Masaki stammered, shocked.

"Sure you do," Rangiku said, as she pulled back some thick volumes from lowest shelf of the bookcase behind her taichō's desk and withdrew a white tokkuri. "It'll help take the edge off a little."

"No, I don't. Besides, Yachiru-chan will be back any minute now…"

"So what? Just take a quick one. It'll help relax you and give you a dose of energy to continue being around her," Rangiku said, as she plopped herself down on her seat and reached over with the sake jug in hand, ready to pour.

"Thanks, Matsumoto-san, but I think I can manage without a drink. Yachiru-chan has been keeping my mind off my troubles."

"Well, then, since I've made you remember, then it's up to me to make you forget." Rangiku grinned, waving the jug at her.

"T-That isn't necessary at all, Matsumoto-san," Masaki insisted, holding onto her tea cup.

"I'm just kidding about getting you drunk enough to forget. All I'm offering you is one drink. I could use one too. It's been a long day," Rangiku said, holding out the sake jug.

"You can have one, but I don't want any…" she trailed off as a brief knock filled the room and a male voice said, "Rangiku-san, can we come in? It's Hisagi and Kira."

"Hold on a second, Shūhei," Rangiku called out. "Oh shoot," she muttered, as she spilled some sake when she lowered the tokkuri to the table. "Masaki, would you mind opening the door for them while I clean this up? It tends to get stuck," Rangiku said.

Masaki gazed at her for a moment before she stood, left her tea cup on the table, and went over to the sliding door. Rangiku seized the moment to hurriedly pour some sake into the teakettle, lower the jug onto the table, and shake the teakettle.

Masaki slid open the door and was met with surprised faces.

Shūhei blinked. "You're…."

"Kurosaki Masaki," Masaki supplied coolly,

"Right."

"What brings you guys here?" Rangiku asked, as she finished wiping the spilled liquid with the sleeve of her Shihakushō.

"We heard about Hitsugaya-taichō. We came to see how you were doing," Shūhei explained, as Masaki stepped to the side to allow him and Izuru entry.

"I'm doing all right. I just hope the taichō returns soon. I don't think I can stand filling in for him for very long. I guess now I can see what guys must be coping with. Say, why don't you guys come on in and join Masaki and me for some tea? I bet you guys could use some."

"Are you sure, Matsumoto-san? We wouldn't want to intrude," Izuru said.

"Nonsense, you wouldn't be intruding at all. Right, Masaki?"

"Um, sure," Masaki said, glancing at Rangiku.

"Yachiru was with us, but she had to take off. She'll be back soon though," Rangiku added. "Don't just stand there guys, take a seat."

Izuru and Shūhei glanced at each other for a moment before they entered the room. Shūhei settled in the seat next to Rangiku while Izuru sat next to Masaki.

"Kurosaki-san, how are you?" the blond man inquired tentatively, as Rangiku bustled about getting more yunomi.

"I'm fine thanks," she murmured. "What about you?" she said, glancing from Izuru to Shūhei before returning her gaze to her tea cup.

"I'm all right, Kurosaki-san."

"Same here."

There was silence.

"Um, so did you and Yachiru-chan come to see how Matsumoto-san was doing?" Izuru asked.

"We had no idea he had become ill. We came because Yachiru-chan wanted me to try some of Hitsugaya-taichō's shaved ice, but since he wasn't here Matsumoto-san invited us to tea instead."

"I see," Izuru said.

"Here you go, Kira," Rangiku said, as she handed him a cup of tea.

Rangiku then proceeded to fill out Shūhei's cup. He refilled hers before she refilled Masaki's.

"So, Shūhei, Kira, how are things in your divisions?" Rangiku asked, before she drank from her tea.

"I'm afraid things aren't well. We had ten people affected by an outbreak of the virus that had to be treated like Hitsugaya-taichō today. I'm not exactly sure how it happened. Some of them had seemed fine from what I had seen and from what others had told me. I just couldn't believe that that many ended up getting sick so suddenly," Izuru said. "I thought we had decontaminated pretty well."

"I don't understand how Hitsugaya-taichō got sick either. He was perfectly fine the last time I saw him."

"That's the trouble with this virus. There's no guarantee that we can avoid it despite our efforts to do so," Shūhei said grimly.

"I know. It sucks. Has your division suffered from an outbreak today?" Rangiku wondered.

"Fortunately, we haven't had any outbreaks since the infected soldiers were taken for treatment. We've sent out about fifty soldiers to the front lines but Yamamoto-sōtaichō has asked me not to send anymore out. He wants the Ninth Division to concentrate on guarding the Seireitei."

"Oh well, that is the Ninth's Division main responsibility," Rangiku noted.

"Yeah, it's only because of that that we're better off compared to others who have nearly sent most of their available forces."

"It's crazy how most divisions are reaching that point fast," Rangiku said. "Nearly half of our soldiers have been sent out."

"It just goes to show how our numbers are really nothing compared to Aizen's vast Hollow army," Izuru said.

"I hate to say it but it does," Shūhei agreed. "I never thought the Gotei 13's ranks were small, but he's wiping out our soldiers so easily…"

"He may have a bigger army, but that doesn't mean we can't win against him. All we have to do is defeat him and the rest of his army will fall."

"You make it sound so simple, Matsumoto-san," Izuru said.

"I'm not saying it's going to be easy. Aizen's making it as difficult as can be, but it's just what needs to be done."

"But we can't last much longer than this if the Hollows keep attacking," Shūhei said.

"Aizen probably won't move until then and by then it'll be too late. We can't beat him like that…" Izuru said.

"Don't so depressing, Kira. We'll figure it out somehow."

"I'm merely stating the reality of things, Matsumoto-san. How can we beat him? The way things are going it almost seems hopeless."

"It's not hopeless, Kira," Rangiku said confidently. "Masaki here is proof things will work out. If you're overlooking that, it sounds to me like the stress is getting to you, Kira. You should have a drink," she said, picking up the tokkuri.

"N-No, I can't. I need to return to my duties," Izuru said, looking scandalized.

"Oh, c'mon, have one. I'm sure you and Shūhei need it after all the stress of the day," Rangiku encouraged. "I know I could use one. Masaki and I were actually going to have one before you guys showed up. So how about it guys?"

"Rangiku-san, Kira's right, we can't. We need to return to our duties," Shūhei declined.

"So do I which is why all I'm offering you is one drink. I'm not that irresponsible that I would get drunk during war time."

"I still don't think it's a good idea, Rangiku-san," Shūhei said, looking unconvinced.

"Neither do I, and Matsumoto-san, I never said I was going to drink with you," Masaki reminded her.

"Why not? It's just one drink to unwind a bit. It's not healthy to let the stress build up, Shūhei," Rangiku said, ignoring Masaki's comment. "Just by touching your arm I can tell you're too tense," she added, reaching over to touch his bicep. "C'mon, Shūhei, one drink won't hurt..." she said, pouting as she glanced at him. "It'll help you do a better job if you can relax a little. Who knows when we'll even get a chance to take a breather with the way things are going, so we might as well seize the moment."

His serious expression wavered for a moment as he regarded her baby blue gaze and pouting lips. Her fingertips were still grazing his bicep.

"You promise it'll only be one drink?" he asked, after staring at her for a long moment.

"Of course," Rangiku said, flashing him a wide grin.

"All right," he conceded at last, almost reluctantly.

"Hisagi-san," Izuru said in a chiding tone, looking startled, as Rangiku immediately released Shūhei's bicep and reached for the tokkuri.

"It's just one drink, Kira," Shūhei muttered.

"Finish up your tea, Shūhei," Rangiku ordered, noticing he still had some in his cup. "You too, Kira," she said, glancing at the blonde. "I'm not going to pour any sake until everyone is done with their tea."

"But, Matsumoto-san, I'd rather not…" Izuru said, as he swallowed his tea.

"Don't give me that, Kira. I know you could use it, so finish up," she said, giving him a commanding glare.

She turned to Masaki just as she lowered her cup from her lips, though she kept it close to her mouth as though intending to continue to drink. Her eyelids were lowered, focused on either the floor or her cup. Rangiku wasn't sure which. The only thing she was sure of was that the girl was merely pretending to still have some liquid in her cup. She had been sipping at it the entire time she had been talking with the boys. She had only paused long enough to make her comment.

"Masaki, let me pour some sake for you," Rangiku said, extending her arm out.

"I'm not done yet," she replied, lifting her gaze to glance at the door. "I wonder what's taking, Yachiru-chan so long? She should have been here by now. I think I should go look for her..."

Nice try, Masaki, Rangiku thought, immediately picking up on the indirect refusal to partake in drinking.

No matter what she would not allow the young woman to hinder her wish to know what the future held in store for her and the others. This was too good an opportunity to pass up, even if it wasn't in the circumstances she had hoped for such an occasion (realistically she had hoped to have a post-war celebration party). All in all what really mattered was loosening up the lips of Masaki. It would be a nice pick me up after the day she'd had.

From what she could tell the orange haired young woman was cut from the same cloth as Kuchiki Rukia and Kuchiki Byakuya, serious and refined, without a single drop of any goofiness from her grandfather. It was a pity because the fun gene seemed to have skipped Ichigo too. At any rate, she'd make sure the girl would enjoy herself tonight. She needed it despite her claims otherwise. She could tell the poor thing was stressed by being here. It would be a win-win situation for all. She just simply needed to coax the girl into drinking more sake. It would not take much more for her to start relaxing after the tea she'd had. Even though she had not poured enough sake into the teakettle to have really made an impact, it had helped pave the way. She was sure the young woman's cheeks had pinkened. A full cup of Genshu, pure undiluted sake, rather than mixed with green tea would make short work of a lightweight drinker like her.

"Don't worry, Masaki. She probably just got distracted by something or another. She always does. She's a kid, she can't help it," she said easily.

"Even so, I'd rather just look for her," Masaki said, raising her cup to her lips.

"She'll find you when she's ready. Trust me, there's no reason to be worried about her, she can take of herself. She always does. So how about letting me see your cup, so I can pour you some sake…"

"No thanks, Matsumoto-san," Masaki said, but Rangiku had leapt to her feet and was bending over the low table. With her free hand, she lowered Masaki's right hand so she could peer at the cup.

"Oh, c'mon, don't be shy, Masaki. I know you could use some sake too." Rangiku smiled, and with that began to fill the orange haired young woman's cup with sake. Masaki had no choice but to sit still as the blonde completed her task. "Just have this drink with us and then you can go look for Yachiru if you want, and Shūhei, Kira, and I will get back to our duties," Rangiku said, as she finished pouring.

"Fine, I'll have one drink," Masaki agreed, after a moment.

"All right." Rangiku beamed.

When everyone had their drink in their hand, Rangiku raised her cup to start her toast, looking unexpectedly serious. "Let's drink in honor of all those who are fighting for the Soul Society, and their lives including Hitsugaya-taichō. May their efforts and those of all the soldiers who have fallen not be in vain."

Rangiku solemnly drank from her cup as did the other Shinigami. Over the rim of her cup, she noticed that Masaki's sip was far too dainty and less compared to her and the others.

There was a moment of contemplative silence as they lowered their cups.

"I really do hope all this unnecessary suffering brought about by Aizen ends soon. I've had my fill. It's enough that he tried to kill my former taichō, and now my current taichō is sick with the virus that almost killed Kurosaki-san in the first place."

Both Izuru and Shūhei looked stunned.

"Oh that's right, you guys don't know that Kurosaki-taichō is alive and well, and that he's actually Kurosaki Ichigo's father and Masaki's grandfather," Rangiku said casually, before taking a sip from her drink.

"W-What?" Izuru gasped.

"H-He is?" Shūhei asked.

"Sure is. Isn't that right, Masaki?"

Masaki merely nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"I know it's almost hard to believe that Masaki's related to him since she practically seems like a pure Kuchiki, but she's a bona fide Kurosaki too."

"Actually, Matsumoto-san, it's not. It clarifies a lot of things," Izuru said. "What did you mean that Aizen tried to kill Kurosaki-taichō?"

Rangiku sighed. "It's exactly as I said. He tried to kill him just like he killed his entire clan. He was the real mastermind behind that. He was experimenting with the virus he's using now back then. He just pinned the blame on Kurosaki-san in order to hide it. I told you, didn't it? Kurosaki-taichō couldn't have been responsible for committing murder…"

"Yes, I remember. It's nice to know he wasn't responsible after all unlike…." Izuru trailed off, his expression darkening.

Rangiku's expression mirrored his own for a moment as did Shūhei's.

"Yeah," she murmured softly, before suddenly saying brightly, "Drink up guys. We can't let this sake go to waste."

"Forgive me, Matsumoto-san, but I'm going to take off. You can enjoy it for me if you'd like," Masaki said, depositing her cup on the table.

"W-What? You can't leave. You're still not finished with your sake. You said you were going to have one drink with us…"

"I never said I was going to drink the entire cup, Matsumoto-san. I agreed to one drink, and I've done that."

"Pft. That hardly counts as a drink, Masaki. That was more like a baby's sip," Rangiku said, waving her hand dismissively. "Drinking like that means you'd have to take a hundred baby sips to be the equivalent of one real adult sip, so you can't leave just yet," she continued, prompting a faint blush to emerge on Masaki's face.

"If you drank a real adult drink, one worthy of being called Kurosaki Isshin's granddaughter then you can take off," she added. "He knew how to drink. Back in the day I always had to keep him in line with his drinking, so that he'd actually make it back to work after his days off. So what's it going to be, Masaki? Baby sips or an adult sip?"

Masaki stared at her, contemplating her request

She thought she saw a slight upturning of her lips.

"Matsumoto-san, if she'd rather not drink anymore, let her be," Izuru said.

"I'm just holding her to what she said she would do, and that was not a proper drink in my book."

"But, Rangiku-san, if she doesn't want to drink anymore…" Shūhei said.

"But that's the point, Shūhei, she's barely drunk anything. That was a baby sip and you know it. All I'm asking her is to share the one drink she'd said she'd have with us. She can leave as soon as she does."

"Fine," Masaki conceded stiffly, violet eyes glimmering with a flash of annoyance.

"Well, drink up then since you seem to be in a rush. If you're going with the baby sips, then you're going to have to drink even faster. If you're not, well me show you what an adult sip looks like," Rangiku said, before taking a long sip.

Masaki said nothing as she carefully picked up her teacup and raised it to her lips, taking a long sip that just eclipsed Rangiku's.

"Not bad, Masaki," Rangiku gave her an approving smile as she lowered her cup, looking as though she had been punched in the face.

Izuru looked aghast while Shūhei looked mildly surprised.

Rangiku didn't doubt that that was how the young woman must be feeling. Sake, especially, Genshu was not meant to be downed. As a seasoned drinker she had long since learned this, and unlike the orange haired young woman had a high enough alcohol tolerance to withstand the effects even if she did. She had actually given the girl a bit more of sake compared to others, because she was the only one that could drink and because she wanted to ensure her drunkenness.

"Are you all right, Masaki?" Rangiku asked, watching as the young woman blinked rather fast as though to get rid of the stars that must have been circling around her head.

"I-I'm fine," Masaki half croaked, half muttered, giving her a reassuring half smile. "I suppose you're satisfied now, right, Matsumoto-san?" she asked, she lowered her teacup onto the table.

"I guess so, but I'd be much happier if you decided to stay, Masaki, and finished all of your sake," Rangiku said, inwardly beaming as she noticed the young woman's cheeks grow rosier.

"I'm sorry, Matsumoto-san, but I can't," Masaki replied, rising to her feet, swaying somewhat as she did so. She turned and took two wobbly steps forward but continued to waver shakily as though she would topple over to the side at any moment.

"Kurosaki-san," Izuru said, extending his free hand onto her shoulder as the young woman fell sideways onto the sofa seat she had been sitting on. "Are you okay?"

"S-Sorry, Kira-san, I'm fine, I just tripped," Masaki mumbled, embarrassed, as she removed her head from the sofa cushion and attempted to sit properly.

"I don't think you should leave just yet, Kurosaki-san," Izuru said gently, as he removed his hand from her shoulder.

"Why? I'm fine, don't worry," Masaki said, as she tried to get to her feet again, only to fall back onto her seat.

"Kurosaki-san, I don't think you're okay," Izuru said.

"What do you mean? Of course, I'm okay," Masaki insisted. "I just had a drink, I'm not even tipsy."

Izuru just stared at her looking unconvinced.

"I think what Kira meant to say is that he doesn't think it's okay for you to leave so soon," Rangiku chimed in. "I agree with Kira you should stay just a big longer. I'd really like your company, so would the guys. Right, Kira, Shūhei?" She said, giving her colleagues an expectant look.

"That's right," Izuru nodded.

"Yeah," Shūhei agreed.

"You would?" Masaki asked, sounding mildly doubtful yet surprised.

"Of course, we would, you're the one who seems to want to run away from us."

"Sorry, I'm not trying to run away, I just…"

"Don't worry about it, Masaki," Rangiku said dismissively. "Just stay with us. I'd really like to get to know you. You're my former taichō's granddaughter that practically makes you my—"

"That doesn't make us anything," Masaki pointed out.

"What are you talking about? Of course, it does. It makes us closer than most people. You're practically like the little sister I never had…."

"Little sister?" Masaki echoed, raising her voice slightly.

"Yeah," Rangiku nodded. "I've always thought of Hitsugaya-taichō as my little brother. Well, actually, he's more of a little brother and older brother mixed in one."

"Um, does that mean you think of my grandfather as your father?" Masaki wondered, a relaxed look coming over her face.

"Not really. He's more of a fun uncle, but that's not the point. You're almost my relation because you're related to him, and that's more than enough for me to want to get to know you. So tell me you'll stay?"

Masaki gazed at her for a moment before nodding. "All right."

"So tell me, Masaki, what are your favorite foods, sake, and color?"

Masaki blinked, looking confused.

"Food?" she repeated slowly. "I like chocolate," she replied, partly smiling. "Chocolate is good."

"Ooh, chocolate! Chocolate is really good." Rangiku grinned, before drinking some sake.

"I know right. I don't have a favorite sake though. I guess this one is okay," Masaki said, pointing at her cup on the table.

"I'm glad you like it, Masaki. It's one of my best. You know you can have more if you like."

"I-I don't think I should…" Masaki said, shaking her head slightly.

"Why not? You'll only be finishing your one cup, and it's not like you have to worry about work or anything if you drink more than that. Feel free to do so if you wish. Think of this as one of Iba's drinking parties…"

"I wouldn't be here if it was," Masaki said.

"Really? How come?"

"He's never invited me to one."

"No way! How can a taichō never invite his fukutaichō to one?" Rangiku demanded, outraged. "That's beyond wrong. Kyōraku-taichō always invites Nanao even if she declines."

Masaki snickered. "He's not my taichō."

"He's not? Well if he was, I would have killed him if I were you."

"Why do think I'm the fukutaichō?" Masaki grinned.

"Y-You killed him?" Izuru exclaimed, joining the conversation.

"N-No, that's not what I meant. If Iba-fukutaichō had become taichō, there's no way he would have chosen me as a fukutaichō. The only reason I'm the fukutaichō is because he retired."

"He retired?" Izuru repeated, stunned.

"Iba retired? Really? I can't really imagine him retired. What would he even do?" Rangiku said.

"Well, I don't think he really wanted to retire, but he's married and—"

Rangiku gasped. "No way! Who'd be willing to marry him? I bet it was arranged."

"Matsumoto-san," Izuru said disapprovingly.

"Probably. I heard his mother wanted him to settle down," Masaki grinned.

"Figures his mother would get involved." Rangiku laughed. "So how come you didn't join the Tenth Division? I wouldn't have been like Iba. I would have definitely invited you to all my parties."

"I didn't receive an offer from the Tenth Division," Masaki replied.

"What? Why wouldn't Hitsugaya-taichō do that? That's crazy…"

"Even if he had, I wouldn't have joined."

"Why not?" Rangiku pouted. "The Tenth Division is a pretty good division. I make sure everyone enjoys themselves. Don't tell me that's changed…I just can't imagine myself as a stiff, boring woman if Hitsugaya-taichō retired and I inherited his position…"

"I doubt someone like you could ever be anything but fun. You're so…beautiful…and nice..." Masaki said, gazing at her admiringly. "You're probably more than enough reason for people to join the Tenth…"

"That's sweet of you, Masaki. Isn't she the sweetest thing, guys?"

Masaki smiled faintly for the briefest of moments before she reached for her cup and drank.

"It's a pity my wonderful presence wasn't enough to tempt you into joining the Tenth Division."

"It might have been nice if I had, but I couldn't…I wanted to be apart from my nakama…"

"But why? It would have been so much fun to be in the same division as your nakama… I would have made sure to keep you together on assignments. I'm not the kind of superior that separates friends, you know."

"It probably would have been fun, but I needed to walk my own path. Then Tenth Division works really well…It didn't need me…Ran-chan is really good at what she does…"

"Ran-chan? Is that you call me in the future? Geez, what a difference. I don't get why you keep insisting on being formal…I wouldn't mind being called that…"

"I wasn't talking about you," Masaki said, giggling.

"Then who?" Rangiku said, confused.

"I was talking about Hitsugaya-taichō's daughter," Masaki explained, before drinking some sake.

"W-WHAT?!" Rangiku exclaimed, spitting out some of the sake she had been drinking. "Hitsugaya-taichō has a daughter? You're kidding, right?"

Shūhei and Izuru looked thunderstruck as well.

"Yup, he does. She's named after you, you know."

"She is?" Rangiku said disbelievingly, eliciting a big nod from Masaki. "I never would have thought Hitsugaya-taichō would have considered naming his kid after me."

"Why wouldn't he? It's a nice name, and he really cares a lot about you. Every taichō cares a lot about their fukutaichō…" Masaki trailed off, as she took another sip from her cup.

"I guess, but this is just…" Rangiku trailed off, apparently unable to find the right words to explain herself.

"You know what's kind of funny," Masaki said, suddenly grinning, "He named Ran-chan after you, but he says his son, Toshi is more like you because he loves to play and put off his work. He's always throwing parties for the Third Division. It drives you nuts," she added after a moment, glancing at Izuru.

"It does?" Izuru said, wide eyed.

"Well, sometimes, but you can tolerate it better than Hitsugaya-taichō, which is why he joined your division."

"Never would have thought Hitsugaya-taichō's patience would run out for his own kid. Maybe I wore him out after all this time," Rangiku mused.

"Toshi was the one who wanted to leave and be away from his father, because they butted heads too much."

"But if Hitsugaya-taichō could barely handle him how could Kira do that? No offense, Kira, but that kid sounds like a handful."

"Toshi is willing to listen to him more than his father, but he's still a handful no matter what."

"Sounds like you have your work cut out for you, Kira, but at least the Third Division seems lively in the future." Rangiku grinned.

"Hitoshi keeps it very lively," Masaki said.

"What about the Ninth Division, Masaki?" Rangiku asked, casting half a glance at the Ninth Division fukutaichō, who had been quietly nursing his sake all this time.

"What about the Ninth Division?" Masaki said, her demeanor and voice suddenly growing cold. "It's stupid…"

"Stupid?" Shūhei repeated, furrowing his brow. "What do you mean it's stupid?"

"Well, maybe the fukutaichō and the rest of the division aren't really stupid, but the taichō is definitely really stupid."

"He is?" Shūhei asked, sounding slightly surprised yet skeptical, prompting a grin to break out on Masaki's face.

"H-Hai. He's really stupid," she affirmed with an emphatic nod, giggling. "He's more than that. He's a bastard. A real son of—"

A loud, knock punctured the air followed by a rough, male voice, "Oi, Rangiku-san, it's Renji. Can I come in?"

Quick Glossary:

Sōtaichō-head captain

Taichō-captain

Reiatsu-Spiritual pressure

Reiryoku- spirit energy/ spiritual power

Sōgō Kyūgo Tsumesho- General Relief Station

Zanjutsu- swordsmanship

Nii- older brother

Oyaji- informal way of saying dad (old man)

Yunomi- tall rather than wide ceramic tea cups

Amanattō-beans covered in sugar and syrup

Arigatō-thank you

Tokkuri- container used to store sake

Nakama- friends/comrades

Sōgō Kyūgo Tsumesho- General Relief Station

Aisuryūmaru- Ice Dragon

Enkōryūmaru- Flame Dragon

Maru suffix in Hyōrinmaru means full but in this case it's merely being used as a suffix as in the case of boy names.

Sansetsuko-Three sectional staff

Senpai-mentor/senior. The term is used to refer to people who are older compared to other members of a group or organization and it is essentially the equivalent of the mentor concept in Western culture.

Cultural Note: It's polite etiquette in Japanese culture for people to pour drinks for each other. It's considered rude and greedy to pour your own drink. Although this is primarily observed with sake, it can also apply to tea.

Sake compared to beer and wine usually has higher alcohol content (14-20% compared to 3-5% and 9-16%). Genshu sakeis undiluted sake that has an alcohol level of 18-20%. Other sake types are usually diluted and are around 14-16%.

It's actually a fact that nearly half of all Asians turn red and get sick easier than other ethnic groups when drinking because they lack an enzyme that can break down acetaldehyde which comes from ethanol. This is why animes always depict drunkenness with red cheeks.