Central Seireitei

[IshikawaInuzuri]

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Seimei Ukitake (浮竹 清明)​

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Seimei strolled along with his shorter, younger and certainly less level-headed and more nervous partner. Although Seimei couldn’t read the kid's mind, he already knew that just walking to this dinner party would be a challenge to him. While partnering Yuto was amusing in more ways than not, Seimei had quite a task on his hand to shape a man out of him. Well, it wasn’t a task that he was even required to do, but he certainly felt that it was among his newfound duties. He wasn’t his older brother by blood, but he felt he was one in every other meaningful way. And as such, he’d decided that it was up to him to teach and guide Yuto until a day would come that he couldn’t teach him anymore. ”That kid will cause me some trouble.” Seimei thought to himself as they continued their travel.


While Seimei’s usual smile remained, his gaze seemed to become more and more hollow the deeper into Seireitei they walked. Having patrolled the many streets, alleys, even rooftops and underground tunnels of Seireitei, nothing about it felt beautiful to him on the outside—for him, the only thing that mattered to him was what the Soul Society stood for. And under the wise steering of the current Captain-Commander, Yuichirō Shihōin, it certainly felt like something he could stand behind. Everyone who walked past them was likely someone who Seimei had already seen or witnessed in one way or another. Just ten years ago, he served in Onmitsukidō—having served both in the Inner Court Troops and the Patrol Corps for centuries. He was as invisible during his patrols and espionage missions as one could imagine—he appeared like any trespasser there is, all the while taking note of every face seen and word spoken. Any word that even remotely sounded treacherous in nature had to be noted, and any face that didn’t seem to belong somewhere had to be memorized. And eventually, if the targets proved worth suspicion, they’d be either eliminated or imprisoned based on the information he provided. And while he no longer had to constantly analyse and mark everything he saw and heard, he had a hard time not doing so. It was only thanks to Yuto talking that he’d snap out of his almost trance-like state of thought.



The younger one is, the weaker the work morale they say. And, Seimei was certainly intent on fixing Yuto’s mentality when it came to performing his duties. And he was intent on doing so through some humor and brotherly love, or bullying to be fair.


​

”I wEalLy hOpE it isn’t aFteW this.” ​

Seimei uttered with sarcasm and even a derisive tone, pretending as if Yuto sounded like a baby—which he did in Seimei’s opinion.


”Kid, you shouldn’t care if Captain Izanagi called us back right now. This is a military job, if you haven’t noticed.”


He uttered with some seriousness and depth to his words, despite maintaining his trademark smile across his face. He took a slight breath before continuing as he kept his gaze locked strictly forward as he held his arms crossed—allowing his Zanpakutō to rest on his hip untouched and unbothered.


”But, I think we’ll be out of rotation tomorrow and have another thirty-six hour patrol. Likelihood is that our Cap’n will have some new orders in the aftermath of their meeting, and we’ll be on the receiving end of whatever good or bad news he’ll bring.”


Seimei uttered in actual response to the worries of his younger and shorter companion. They strolled forth, and in the meanwhile he thought about the rotations when he served the Patrol Corps. Some of these patrols, or rather espionage missions in any part of Seireitei or Rukongai often lasted for a week or even more. He was often disguised and removed from the sight of obviousness, or planted somewhere too obvious to suspect. He learned how to be awake even when asleep, and he learned how to be a shadow while within one. And all he did was in the name of the Soul Society and the Soul King—and he would continue doing so regardless of his post or rank, or which organization he served. Logically, the right squads among the divisions of Gotei 13 for him would’ve been the Ninth, Fifth or even Sixth due to his skills and his rather specific background. However, he himself wanted to apply to Tenth—he viewed that truly the most important job a Shinigami could do was the maintenance of Balance of Souls. If anything brought it to ruin, the entire universe would be threatened. And as such, he took immense pride in what he did. He wished to teach his way of thinking to his shorter companion as well.


Before long, they had arrived at the gates’ of the Tsunayashiro manor, being guided to the waiting room with the other guests as he merely followed the suite. He’d seen it probably a thousand times due to the work he’d done in the past, but he saw that Yuto was quite in awe. Seimei’s smirk merely grew as he looked onto his younger partner as he stood by his side.


”Popular sounds crowded to me.”


He responded to his younger companion promptly, and with a sarcastic tone as always. He merely observed, and would in fact leave any social initiations to be performed by the short guy next to him.​

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​

 

[Dioclea]

The Tsunayashiro estate rose from the Seireitei like a thought that had lingered too long and grown confident in its own importance. Yūgen approached it with measured steps, ledger tucked beneath one arm, the invitation folded neatly within its pages. The architecture alone invited appraisal. Height where restraint was customary, ornament where simplicity usually prevailed. It was beautiful in the way a restored relic could be beautiful, polished, intact, yet faintly dishonest about the hands that had shaped it. He passed beneath its gates without comment, his reiatsu kept carefully folded inward, offering nothing more than what was required to be seen.

Servants received him with practised neutrality, their eyes flicking briefly to his uniform before guiding him onward. Yūgen inclined his head in polite acknowledgement, his gaze drifting to the small, telling details that most people never realised they had overlooked. The lacquer along the doorframes bore minute stress fractures, sealed with gold in a manner that imitated tradition without quite understanding it. The air itself carried layered scents, incense attempting to assert calm over the richer promise of food yet to come. All of it was noted, quietly, internally, catalogued as one might catalogue an artefact of uncertain provenance.

The waiting room opened before him in muted elegance. Plush seating lined the walls, fabric chosen as much for impression as for comfort, and at the centre stood a filigreed table burdened with books that looked read more for display than devotion. Yūgen stepped inside and paused, allowing the room to settle around him before choosing a place along the periphery. He did not sit immediately. Instead, his eyes traced the assembled figures with the same attentive patience he afforded returned relics.

Seimei Ukitake of the Tenth Division stood near one wall, blond hair catching the light in a way that made him difficult to miss, his posture composed but alert. Nearby loomed Hyoroshi Iwamura, the First Division’s wolf-man, whose presence carried a physical gravity all its own, white fur stark against the subdued tones of the room. Yūto Togami lingered by Seimei’s side, short and dark-skinned, his youth apparent despite the maturity he seemed to carry himself. Others filtered in as well, the space gradually filling, the murmur of restrained conversation rising and falling like a cautious tide.

Yūgen took a seat at last, smoothing his sleeves as he did so, hands folding loosely in his lap. He listened without intruding, observed without inserting himself. This was not reluctance born of disdain, but of preference. Rooms revealed their true nature when one waited. He found himself glancing, once, toward the entrance, then again a few moments later, wondering whether a familiar shock of red hair might soon disrupt the room’s careful balance. Danjūrō would have thoughts on all of this, of that he was certain, and the anticipation of them settled quietly in Yūgen’s chest.

For now, he remained still, an invited guest among many, content to watch the gathering take shape before deciding what role, if any, he would play within it.

​

 

[Souris]

The Detective Arrives

Rokka's walk to the Tsunayashiro compound twisted a knot within his gut. Though it wasn't from a place of unease towards the host's division or any surface level issue such as that. It emerged from the involvement with another clan. The Kyōraku in the past have kept to themselves for the most part in the wake of the power vacuum that struck the highest noble families. The situation could have been a prime time to grab hold of a vacant seat within the upper echelon, yet they remained grounded.

The current head of his namesake, Kyōraku Shigeru, is his father and the sole driving force behind up-keeping the weight of their name. Though his approach has been a bit more passive. Rather than punching a new hole through the current regime, he opted to build value through ground up efforts. A sentiment that Rokka admired but also knew was a weighty task and potentially fruitless. The initial push for his enlistment in the Sixth Division was an example of this mutual respect for the idea, serving as a way to help the Soul Society through good intent and lawful enforcement rather than brute strength and fear.

But the expectation of it all began to fall more and more onto Rokka's shoulders. The aspiration was solid and just from an observers standing point but things were changing. He felt okay giving a thumbs up to his father and allowing for him to maintain control in this mission but in recent times Rokka found himself more and more pushed into leading that dream himself. It was evident that his father wanted to guide his hand to take the reins at some point soon but he was not mentally prepared for that.

His business with the host was separate from the festivities, yet Rokka knew the success of his mission hinged entirely on the impression he made here. He knew nothing truly about Toru and that was the unnerving part of it all. Politics were beyond tiring. Under the context of interacting with anyone he was more familiar with with such a lineage, it'd be like any other day - but this was a lot of unknowns. He had to walk the line of a detective seeking access to resources for his pursuits but also that of a representative of the Kyōraku.

Crossing the threshold onto the manor's grounds came with a drawn out breath from Rokka. His expression still as monotone as usual but inside his stomach was twisted. How was it that this was more stressful than hunting down criminals? Standing on the precipice of life and death, law and order, was child's play. He could look at his own insignificance in the grand order and not even blink. But the delicate nature of social politics - that was a different beast.

Rokka mumbled something beneath his breath, a mantra of sorts, with eyes closed for a moment. He was finding his inner grounding for a spell before snapping back to reality. The light in his eyes shifted to that of determination, a fire fueled by his initial intention. He had a role to play but also a reason for being here that wasn't likely the motivation of the other guests. That was his center.

He continued onward - wielding more confidence in his step. His stride honing in to join the other guests. It wasn't until he gathered with the other souls that he realized this was potentially an even further opportunity. He was so single minded in his intent initially but this all could be something more...​

 

[TherosAestas]

Memory is a fickle thing, and while Suzume’s memory was a steel trap for many things, she couldn’t remember the last time she took comfort in the simple act of being present. Despite always being a package deal in regards to Hideo Shihoin, she had become inseparable from him as his arms were restored. Even now, years later, she found herself spending more time at the Shihoin compound than her own home. In fact, she had only just arrived from Eighth Division when he’d set his quill down beside an artifact he had been inspecting. It had become rare for Hideo to take breaks, so when he laid his head down, even for a moment, Suzume wasted no time just being there.

She knew that she was probably the only person he truly let his guard down around anymore. When his eyes closed she was certain he had intended for it to only be for a moment, but that moment turned to minutes, then to nearly half an hour. As he slumbered, she took advantage of this and pulled his hair back, something he would never have allowed her to do if he had been awake. Her hair stick glittered against his silver bun as she hid a smile behind her hand.

The bun looks stupid on the scoundrel.

Her eyes flickered over toward her Jigitarisu, leaning up against a wall beside Shinken Hazen. Hush, fox. She gently removed her hair stick, letting the bun she’d formed with his hair tumble down. ”Hideo.” Her hands hesitantly shook him awake. He probably needed the rest but she knew he definitely hadn’t wanted to take that long of a break. A chilling presence loomed behind her as she watched his eyes flutter open. It took him no time to return to what he had been doing well before she arrived.

Work, work, work to the bone.

Her calculating eyes turned toward Jigitarisu looming over her shoulder, the ears on his hood casting an ominous silhouette. Assessing the artifacts is important, Fox. She felt his chuckle more than heard it. The air rippled around them both as the soft thud of his stilts against the wooden floors drowned out the room around her. Jigitarisu lurked around the room, his glowing eyes observing everything. You’re restless aren’t you?

No!... Yes… I want to play! I want to fight with the scoundrel!

A crease formed between Suzume’s brow. I’ve told you a million times to stop calling him that, Fox. A shiver ran down her spine as he slunk up behind her and rested his hand on her shoulder. He’d replaced his mask, hiding his emotions from her. I am sorry you can’t play right now.

Because of the other Shihoin?

Her eyes shifted over to her blade. That was the only response she would give him to that question. Jigitarisu knew best what her feelings were about that man. Before more could be said, he sunk into the shadows as a figure clad in black appeared beside her. Inei pressed a rolled up invite into her hand before he was gone once more. She made quick work of unraveling the parchment and catching the vial of a rather pricey herb that had been stored inside. Inei knew her well enough to know she would feel obliged to take a gift if she attended this dinner party and he had done his due diligence to learn that the host, Toru Tsunayashiro, quite enjoyed cooking.

Suzume didn’t hesitate to depart for Tsunayashiro Manor alongside Hideo, the vial tucked safely inside her own sleeve.

​

 

[Amphybi]

Time after time, Toru is pulled away from his duties in the kitchen but it does not bother him, he signed up for this hustle and bustle, he’s also well aware of the leeway allowed in his cooking. With that timeframe in mind, he greets and hurries potential guests out of the waiting room as they appear, very few taking his interest. Even in his focused state as he works away, tending to various kinds of meals, he can’t help but occasionally glance over at the two clumsy creatures in the corner. He evaluates their performance with each glance, but mentally notes that nothing has changed since the beginning of the day.

His voice then battles to be heard over the sizzling, boiling and clattering of the kitchen,
“Sude, I know you don’t like talkin’, but what if you helped out your ol’ buddy?”
As he speaks, his head is twisted to the side, an ear to ear smile beaming at the hazy spirit in the corner. There isn’t a moment that passes before the echoey and static backed voice of Sude responds,
“No, I think you’ll be quite alright by your lonesome.”

Toru’s teeth and lips parted as he went to speak but was interrupted by the voice of Jaakuna Inpei. It cut through his focus and train of thought almost effortlessly. "Tsunayashiro-saaaaan." The hazy figure in the corner faded just the same as his previous thought, and Toru sighed ever so quietly and moved to wash and dry his hands once more. "Tokkuuun.~" Jaakuna called out once more, before Toru had even managed to finish drying his hands.

Under the cacophony of the kitchen, the mutterings of the Tsunayashiro had begun once more,
“I really shouldn’t be surprised I suppose… Set myself up by invitin’ this gluttonous little freak, not that I could keep her away after the mention of food anyway.”
If anyone could hear his mutterings, they’d assume he was upset but in truth this was just his usual attitude with Jaakuna, at least in regards to her gluttony.

In the moment that Toru had begun sliding open the door to the kitchen with one hand, his other hand extended outwards rapidly, finding Jaakuna’s face. With his friend's head clutched by his abnormally long digits, Toru speaks up once more, “Jaakuna, my dear friend, please please pleaseeee control yourself! We have to wait for the rest of the guests!” Step after step forward, Toru shoves Jaakuna back into the dining area and towards one of the seats closest to his own little stool. “Sit there for a minute, I’ll get you somethin’ to hold you over for now. But how are you, gluttonous little creature?” Spinning on his heels, Toru slinks back into the kitchen, the soft clicking of metal tongs escaping into the dining area, as well as the clattering of a small plate.

A moment later he wraps back around the door and gingerly plants the squared porcelain plate before the woman. “Now! Enjoy! At least for now, I got some more stuff for ya later. What you been up to? It’s been a minute since I visited you, or vice versa.” Atop the plate sits a single but lengthy skewer with an assortment of succulent grilled meats: beef, lamb, pork and chicken. Alongside that is a single little cup with a rich red syrup-like sauce, a red wine reduction.
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Time passed as the two went back and forth, catching up as Toru continued his culinary art in the kitchen, the door left open. Eventually however, Toru could feel the collection of unique spiritual energies in the waiting room, this time around it felt different, each of the spiritual signatures was potent in its own right. Once more he cleans himself off and this time closes the door behind himself, meandering off towards the door on the opposite end. Silently he pries open the door and stands in the doorway, a concealed presence that studies the group momentarily before his voice cracks the silence open with a practiced line, one that he had spoken over and over throughout the day.

“Good morning my sweet guests~! I’m delighted to see you all found my invites and came to see what the deal was!”

Toru’s chartreuse green eyes had already scanned over everyone, and now they are locked upon the shortest of the Shinigami within, Yuto Togami. He found the boy's sheepish and uneasy attitude intriguing, why be so intimidated about coming to a dinner party that you chose to attend? As though he were lunging forth to strike the short Shinigami, Toru rapidly approached Yuto, not a moment later his hand was planted to the boy's shoulder and they were already shaking hands.

“Welcome welcome, you seem a bit spooked, you doin’ alright buddy? Either way, I’m glad you came! Please, step inside!”
Just as the other potential guests had experienced, there was no time to speak at this moment. As soon as Toru was done, Yuto felt those hands abandon his head and hand, only for Toru to begin guiding him towards the door towards the dining area by his shoulders. “Please, take a seat, any seat, except the stool. Tha’s mine.” A small little helping shove pushed the boy beyond the boundary of the two rooms and Toru spins back around to face the rest.
The next guest that caught Toru’s attention was the man that accompanied Yuto, Seimei Ukitake. His presence is far more reserved, but quite approachable, and, he qualifies. Once more Toru is before this guest and a hand is already outstretched, reaching to clasp at both of the man's hands to shake them, “A friend of the little one I assume? Welcome in, please feel free to make your way inside.” The steps are the same as before, welcoming the guest, welcoming them and guiding them into the dining area.

Hyoroshi Iwamura, the Wolfman. “Ooooh.. Welcome Beastkin, I wasn’t expecting one of your kind to come, but you’re welcome just as the others are! Please step through.” The motions and process are much the same as with the others, in spite of Hyoroshi being much taller than the already lanky Toru. That being said, there is a difference with their interaction, the hand shake. Hyoroshi feels the curious sensation of a thumb stroking his fur and watches as Toru’s head tilts briefly to the side in a displayed curiosity. Then he mutters off to himself,
“So this is what it’s like huh? I’ve never felt such a thing before, at least not during a handshake. Curious little guy.”
Toru didn’t care if he was heard, those are simply the words for himself that get put out into the world.

Next up is Yugen Kazahuna, a man well presented and almost diametrically opposed to Toru’s behaviour. He too is encroached upon by Toru all the same, “Welcome, welcome! You seem like a distinguished guy, I hope we’ll be good friends by the end of today! Please, step inside.” He begins guiding Yugen within and this time around, as he is guiding the man, a thought comes to mind that he cannot help but vocalise, “You smell of ink. Are you a writer or an artist?” Then once more, before the man can answer, Toru has shifted his attention to the last guest in the waiting room.

The final guest, Rokka Kyōraku, of all of these guests, seems to hold the most purpose for his visit. His expression and mannerisms suggesting that he is far more focused than the rest of the group. With Rokka’s hands in his own, Toru stares down at the Kyōraku and his words this time are ever so slightly different in tone, welcoming but still different. “Welcome, my dear guest. You seem a little intense for a dinner party don’t you? Regardless, welcome in and I hope you get to enjoy your meal soon enough!” Once more a guest is hurried into the dining room and this time, Toru follows in afterwards, sliding the door closed behind himself.
​

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With the guests taking their seats, or not, Toru wanders past them all, wordlessly now as he slips open the kitchen door and slithers within. Reaching off to the side, he slips one of his hands beneath an ornate wooden platter and steps back into the dining room where he speaks up once more.

“So! As the invites said, this is a dinner party, and unlike your usual and subpar dinner parties, there’s a menu here!”

Toru begins to make the rounds, pausing in front of each guest and holding the platter out in front of each guest one by one. Atop the platter is a number of identical small, but thick booklets with smooth and glossy laminated pages. The only one he does not stop for is Jaakuna. Once each guest has a booklet, he positions himself at the head of his table where his stool is situated.

“Please, go through those menus, take your pick of whatever food you’d like, I promise you whatever you want is within those pages! Jaakuna, I know what you want, but if you want me to make a change, lemme know and I’ll see what can be done! Now, let’s enjoy ourselves!”​

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Post Order
Toru→Jaakuna→Yuto→Seimei→Hyoroshi→Yugen→Rokka ​

 

[Elk]

In the aftermath of the battle and reattachment of his arms, with them being fully healed, he had returned to the Shihōin manor. As he did, one servant appeared next to him, causing his eyes to shift to them as they whispered into his ear. A nod, and the two quickly disappeared.

“He was left here, battered and broken, along with this note sir”

His hand reached for it, pulling it open.

“Heres a gift, from one Shihōin to another”
~Shihōin Sumire

His eyes narrowed and shifted up. There sat a man tied to a chair, his arms bound so tightly that it almost seemed as though the ropes dug into his skin. His hair was long and silver, similar to Hideo’s, even down to the style. His chest rose and fell as he turned around, his head shaking as both hands moved behind his back. His eyes shifted left as he looked at several artifacts that had been previously taken.

“I am conceding to Yūgure. Have my brother delivered to her with the artifacts and the letter. My gift to her as head of the family.”

In the present day, Hideo had been doing his duties as Third Seat, often looking over various artifacts to determine if they had been tampered with. In his free time, he trained whenever he could, releasing small news reports here and there. He looked over investments he had made and the costs of each division member, as well as the payments that were needed. Usual mundane things that most would sweep under the rug.

For this particular day, he had made his way back to the manor, examining the family artifacts that remained. Yet his body would be demanding rest, his arms and legs were heavy, and his eyes closing as his head lowered before he would pass out. He wasn’t sure how long he was out, but a light shaking would cause his eyes to slowly open before looking up at Suzume and blinking slowly.


“What a lovely sight to wake up to.”

A knock came at the door as he pushed himself up, and lightly dusted himself off.

“Hideo, a letter has dropped out from the sky. It comes from the Tsunayashiro family. They’re inviting people into their manor”

His eyebrows raised as he walked to the door, sliding it open, hand reaching forward and grabbing the slip of paper. His eyes scanned it lightly before neatly rolling it and sliding it into his Shihakushō. His hand moved under his chin for a moment, scratching at his skin, before his gaze shifted up to look at the ceiling. He then turned back to the servant and smiled.

“Bring the tea pot set with the devil’s trumpets. It’s still in its casing from 200 years ago.”

The servant nodded, then flickered away, while he turned back to the artifacts. He let out a sigh as he turned toward a set of scrolls detailing the history of the Shihōin, carefully grabbing them and placing them back into their positions.

“Suzume, we’re off to the Tsunayashiro manor.”

His body turned before he flickered away. His appearance was at the gates, the servant holding a wooden box. Aconite, oleander, belladonna, foxglove, and datura, each one hand carved with strikingly accurate detail, lay across the box. His hand reached for the bottom before he flickered away. His next step was at the gates, where he was guided into a room.

“So this is the Tsunayashiro manor.”

“Not too bad”


The two made their way into a waiting room. One hand resting on the wooden box


“Forgive our tardiness, but we do bring gifts for this invitation.”

Post Order
Toru→Jaakuna→Yuto→Seimei→Hyoroshi→Yugen→Rokka→Hideo→ Suzume​

 

[GhoulBunny]

Five Years Before…..

Steam drifted lazily through the air, curling upward in slow, patient wisps that clung to the stone before dissolving into the golden haze above. The hot spring breathed softly, its low murmur steady and slow. At first glance, the inner world looked unchanged. The same twilight glow stretched endlessly, neither night nor day. The same warm, oppressive heat pressed against the skin, coaxing sweat even in stillness. The same bamboo fencing encircled the spring, weathered but standing.


But the longer one looked, the harder it was to pretend nothing had changed.


The presence of strong Reiatsu lingered in the air, clearly announcing a fight had taken place. The stone surrounding the spring was scarred and cracked and broken, shallow grooves etched into its surface where feet had dug in, where bodies had been thrown down, where balance had been lost and found again and again. The bamboo bore marks of strain, bindings replaced, poles reinforced where they had cracked under pressure.



This was no place of meditation anymore.



It was a place of straight hell..



Yūgure stood at the edge of the spring, unmoving. Her posture was straight, but the tension in her shoulders betrayed the effort it took to remain that way. She did not kneel. She simply stood, breathing slow and even, daring herself to falter now that it was finally over.




She had stood here before, countless times. After being driven into the stone. After being thrown beneath the water until her lungs burned. After dragging herself upright only to be struck down again. There was no number she could attach to those moments. They blurred together after a while, failures stacking atop one another until they became routine.



This was the first time she stood on the winning side of her Zanpakuto Spirit.



Opposite her, Sakegire watched. Blood oozed from his mouth but he sat and watched her like nothing had happened.



He was slouched as ever, one shoulder dipped lower than the other, robes hanging loose and uneven. A gourd rested in his hand, tilted just enough that its contents threatened to spill. His hair was wild, gathered without care, and his expression wore its familiar crooked edge even though he had finally lost to the woman who wielded him.



As usual he was drunk, but that didn’t stop him from being a good fighter. He was unpredictable to fight with, always changing up on her. Never letting her figure him out…until she did.



And yet his yellow eyes glowed brighter than she remembered, sharp and unmistakably alert beneath the haze of intoxication. They followed her without blinking, not predatory now, but keen. Assessing.



“Took ya so longggggggg ,” he drawled at last, voice thick. “Yearssss girlie. Thought I was gonna drink this place dry ‘fore ya finally figured it out.”



Yūgure exhaled slowly through her nose. The corner of her eyes twitched, more reflex than intent.



“Not like you had anywhere to go,” she would finally say.



Sakegire barked a laugh and tipped the gourd back, taking a long, exaggerated swig. He seriously didn’t look like he had just lost a battle. “Stubborn little thing you are.”



He straightened just a fraction then. For the first time, his presence did not bear down on her. it no longer sought to crush or test. It simply existed alongside hers.



“Wellllll,” he continued, eyes narrowing in something like satisfaction, “can’t say ya didn’t earn it. Slow, infuriatin’, hard-headed as hell… but ya earned it.”



The words landed heavier than any blow ever had.



Yūgure lowered her gaze, fingers curling once at her side before relaxing again. Her eyes would land on her gauntlets. Her chest felt tight, not with triumphz Something harder to name.



“Sooooo,” Sakegire went on, tone tilting back toward mockery, “congrats, Girlie. You finally got the ta chance to beat me.”



He spoke the final release. Just a name, offered plainly, as though it had always been waiting for her to hear it properly.



She felt it settle into her bones



Sakegire eyed her sidelong, lips quirking. “Don’tttttttt get that look. You ain’t done. Not even close girl. Bankai like this’ll chew you up if you get sloppyyyyyyy. You know that.”



“Oiiiii. I know,” Yūgure replied quietly. He and a few others were the only ones to see the annoyed side of the Shihōin woman.



“Goodddd,” he said, grinning. “Hate to see ya die after all this trouble.”



Silence followed, stretching comfortably between them. Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, toward another person. Another standard she had chased since childhood.



Yūichirō. Her brother.



Captain-Commander to her and the rest of the Gotei now. She had always wanted to surpass him. Not to stand above him, but to stand beside him without feeling smaller. And finally, she felt like she was getting closer to that goal.



Sakegire clicked his tongue, eyes flicking toward her with knowing irritation. “There it is,” he muttered. “That annoyinn look, even when ya finally beat me.”



Yūgure did not argue.



She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the spring seep into her skin one last time. There was nothing left to prove here. Nothing left unfinished.



When she opened them again, she was in the quiet of the Shihōin underground training grounds. She slowly stood up, carrying what she had earned back into a world that would demand even more.

​

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Day’s Before Captain’s Meeting…

It seemed like things changed in a blink of an eye after that. Suddenly, her cousin and ex rival of the title of being head of the Shihōin family withdrew from wanting the title, leaving it to her. Her brother never wanted to lead the family, truly, and he already had enough to deal with being Captain Commander now. Suddenly she was whisked away with the elders daily and learned even more about their family laws and customs. It was completely different than what she thought it would be like, but she loved it. Sheloved being able to work hard and finally achieve the goal she always wanted to achieve.


And suddenly she got the letter.


A parchment rested on the table in her quarters, its presence heavy. She had gone to train and came back to it. She had a gut feeling of what it was. But it still didn’t prepare her to see it written in fine print.


A summons to the Captain Commander. She was now Captain of the Ninth Division.



The words did not bring excitement. They did not bring relief. They sat heavy in her chest, pressing down as though daring her to reject them.


Yūgure stared at the parchment longer than necessary.


The war came back to her in fragments. The roar of Kishō's bankai. The taunts of the Arrancar they faced. The way the air had tasted afterward, sharp with ash and blood. Seeing the dead. Seeing the injured. Moments where she should have acted in certain ways that she didn’t. The ways she had failed.



Her fingers tightened slightly around the edges For a moment, she wished she could reject it all. She knew this would bring attention to her. Now two Shihōin have been promoted in a small amount of time. It would of course raise eyebrows thanks to their history. But she knew she couldn’t back down. Not with her final goal just in reach.


Captain.

It felt premature.


Yūgure folded the parchment carefully and set it aside. She rose to her feet and moved through the barracks without haste, going before her brother. It was the start of something new for her but she just slipped into the rhythm that had carried her through the last decade. She did not go to the Captain’s office. She rarely did. The space felt too removed and distant from the people she was meant to lead.


Instead, she trained. And didn’t let things change completely at first.


She trained until sweat soaked through her robes and her muscles burned in familiar protest. She sparred with her squad and went over invasion provisions. She made sure they stayed in communication with every Division. She made sure they all worked together. She stood among them rather than above them just as she always had. The only difference now was the weight of expectation that followed her into every movement.


The Ninth Division had never been ornamental. They were the ones sent first. The ones expected to hold the line. They were the shields raised first. That was what she was being entrusted with. And if she was not enough yet, then she would become enough. Not tomorrow. Not someday.

Now.


Yūgure stood, watching her squad disperse under her quiet instruction. They moved with trust that she would lead them. She would quickly call over one of them before speaking quickly.


”Oí. I need you to find Kishō Date and..Oh pull yourself together,“ She sighed as the young man before her practically paled at the mentions of going to talk to the Date. “Go find him and tell him he will look over the barracks while I am gone for a little while. He can help welcome Kuwashii Hakunetsu to the barracks.”

‘Of course, Captain,”

She almost flinched, but she kept her cool. Doubt lingered. It always would. But it did not stop her from walking towards her goal.


And it never would.

​

---

Present - Her First Captain’s Meeting.

Yūgure stepped through the threshold without pause, her stride measured, her posture straight. The haori settled easily over her shoulders, its weight familiar in a way that felt almost unsettling. She had worn it only a short time, but it started to feel less foreign. She took her place among the captains without drawing attention to herself. That had always been her preference.



She did not show her nerves. But they were there, coiled tight beneath her calm expression, a quiet awareness of how many eyes could turn toward her if she faltered. She let her gaze move deliberately instead, cataloging the room the way she always had. At the head stood Yūichirō Shihōin, Captain-Commander and Captain of the First Division. The title suited him. If anyone worked hard enough for the title it would have been her brother.



“Brother,” she said simply as she passed him.


There was no warmth to it. Just acknowledgement. Respect.


And she didn't let her gaze linger.


Her eyes moved next to Kagi Senkō, Captain of the Second Division.


The ripple that followed her gaze brought her briefly to the Eighth Division’s position. She did not look long. The absence shockingly brought her thoughts to her cousin who so happens to be in said division.



Her attention snapped back when it landed on Itaku Ōhei, Captain of the Fourth Division. He looked so relaxed. Like he was having a good ol time.


Then her gaze shifted to Tāro Date, Captain of the Eleventh Division.


He stood straight, eyes forward, face unreadable. No smile. No acknowledgement of the commander. Nothing. Just focus. And, shockingly, she found that steadied her more than she expected.


When all had taken their places, the chamber quieted. Yūichirō stepped forward.

​

“From when we last spoke,” he began, voice carrying easily through the room, “we were a Gotei scattered. A military force thrashed and beaten.”​

Yūgure kept her gaze forward, listening.

​

“Ten years have passed since I issued you all your lessons. Ten years in which you were given instruction, purpose, and responsibility. In those ten years, tell me—what have you learned?”​

He paused.

​

“From descending to ascending order, state your name, rank, and the results of your individual performances. Leave no detail abandoned.”​

His gaze settled on Kagi.

​

“Begin.”​

Kagi stepped forward without hesitation.

​

“Kagi Senkō. Captain of the Second Division. Commander-in-Chief of the Onmitsukidō.”
​

Yūgure listened closely, her fingers tapped against her leg like a cat would flick its tail at that.


It wasn’t a secret that she had once stood among the Second. The habits had never quite left her. The way she catalogued information. The way she moved like a ghost. Kagi had been her captain then, despite everything.

​

“Regarding the assignment issued to the Second Division concerning the disturbances in the World of the Living, the matter was delegated through the established chain of command without delay, as operational efficiency required immediate response and the maintenance of all ongoing internal duties.”​

​

“Nairaishi entered the World of the Living without incident. Maintained full concealment throughout the operation. A systematic survey of the designated sectors confirmed that the reported spiritual imbalance had not escalated beyond localized anomalies. He identified no hostile entities of significant threat level, neutralized minor disturbances without collateral exposure, and ensured no civilian awareness was triggered at any stage.”​

Yūgure exhaled slowly through her nose. This took a long time. Or was this normal? She panicked as she knew her report wasn’t going to be as thorough. But nobody would notice a thing.


​

“All intelligence gathered was transmitted through encrypted channels and verified against existing records. The instability was environmental rather than orchestrated. No foreign interference. No Hollow congregation patterns. No signs of coordinated activity. The mission concluded with zero casualties, zero collateral damage, and zero deviation from protocol. In summary, the assignment was completed to th—”​

​

“Yes, yes.”​

The interruption cut through the hall like nails scrapping acrossed a chalk board.


Yūgure’s eyes lifted at once.


Itaku Ōhei hadn’t even waited for him to finish.

​

“Yes, nothing notable was discovered, and everything was reported to whoever it needed to be reported to. Excellent.”​

Her jaw tightened before she could stop it. She said nothing, but the irritation flared sharp and immediate. She had always hated interruptions. Hated them even more when they were careless. Had it been her speaking, she would not have taken it quietly.


“Hey everyone!” Itaku announced brightly, already stepping forward. “Seems I’m next!”


Yūgure stared at him, openly now, disbelief flickering across her features before she reined it back in. He was smiling. Enjoying this far too much.

​

“We at Fourth got some new competent members!” he continued. “Yay for us, right?”​

Her gaze slid briefly toward the head of the chamber.

​

“Now, regarding those med stations you wanted built at each division, I… didn’t do that. Teehee.​

Yūgure blinked once.


Teehee?


He had just admitted to defying a direct task from the Captain-Commander. Out loud. With a grin.


She glanced back to Yūichirō, then returned her attention to Itaku as he continued, unfazed.

​

“While I understand the reasoning in theory,” he said, waving a hand dismissively, “in practice it’s too risky. Especially considering how the past invasion proved how incapable we are against large-scale threats.”​

Her fingers curled slightly at her side.

​

“Having medical personnel stationed there is meaningless if they die before treating anyone Especially when the people they’re meant to treat can’t protect them. Instead, I’ve had the ambitious Fuu and our newer members coordinate with the respective divisions during training sessions. Fourth Division members are dispatched to treat injuries on site, allowing everyone to keep training as hard as they want. Once training is complete, they return to Fourth to pool what they’ve learned. It lets us rotate personnel, keeps us active, and improves our Kaidō and Reiryoku control. Busier at Fourth, sure, but better trained.”​

​

He smiled. “That’s all from me!”​

Silence followed.



It was finally her time to speak. She cleared her throat. Her chin lifted. Her shoulders squared. This was not the first time she had addressed a room like this. She had commanded the Ninth long before the haori rested on her shoulders. This was no different. Not truly.



“Bro—” she stopped herself immediately, the correction smooth even as it tightened her chest. “Captain-Commander.”


She paused. Just long enough to ground herself.



“Yūgure Shihōin,” she said evenly. “Captain of the Ninth Division.”


Her gaze remained level as she continued.


“As I am new to my post, my report is limited to current operations. The Ninth Division has been active in the development of invasion response strategies, with the intent of ensuring we are not unprepared in the event of another large-scale incursion.”


She let the words settle before continuing.


“Our plans prioritize layered engagement. Frontline suppression to halt initial advances, followed by rear containment to prevent flanking or internal collapse. Rapid redeployment units are designated to respond to shifting threats without delay.”



“In upcoming rotations, I plan to select representative squad members to serve in these units based on specialization and adaptability. Kishō Date will be positioned at the front lines, acting as primary force output. Kuwashii Hakunetsu will be assigned rear control, ensuring containment integrity and communication stability. The Ninth Division maintains open channels with all squads. Casualty reports are logged and updated continuously. Dead, missing, and absent without leave will be accounted for with no exceptions.”


She concluded simply. “That is all.”



Yūgure stepped back into place.


Silence filled the chamber again.


She folded her hands behind her back, fingers hidden from view as they worried briefly at her nails. The motion was small. Barely noticeable.


The only sign she had left behind that she was still learning how to carry the weight of it all.​

 

[Nohi]

---

​

---

​

"It all looks so-- BWEH!"

Just as her fingers were near touching her favorite morsel, a gangly pasty hand and its fingers consume the top half of her face and stop her right in her tracks. She is disappointed, moreso that she was unable to sneak in a bite before the rest of the guests arrived and that she was stopped right at the cusp of victory.

Jaakuna, my dear friend, please please pleaseeee control yourself! We have to wait for the rest of the guests!” Jaakuna sulks as she's forcibly pushed back towards the dining area and settles in one of the seats, a comical pout on her face up until Toru mentions getting her something to snack on. Rapid nods and a growling stomach answer him in gusto. There's little small talk between them and Jaakuna waits until he returns from the threshold of the kitchen before properly engaging in conversation.

"I've been better. Captain Date has been making his rounds a lot more frequently at the Academy so I've had to deal with a lot of the aftermath of his trials." A bead of sweat drops down the side of her face and she has this scrunched furrow in her brows, imagining the slew of students' bodies flying out of his lecture hall. Although a rough and callous method of separating the ones he wanted from the herd, Jaakuna could at least understand why. Though her terms of teaching were the complete opposite of Captain Date, the message and the intent was the same. "Still as busy as ever. I do apologize for not visiting more often. It's a bit more difficult to do as I please now, since the promotion to third seat."

A dish clatters in front of her and her eyes sparkled at the multi-meat skewer that he quickly made for her to nip on, and a sauce to lather it in. With gusto, she snatches the skewer damn near the moment it was set in front of her and ripped off the first piece of beef that sat at the top. A burst of flavor and warmth spins on her tastebuds and she is in Heaven. "Tokkun, oishii~.” Lamb, pork, and chicken follow right after, and the reduced sauce only adds onto the succulent and savory flavors. Her mouth is full, and the two continue their banter, catching up with one another as if no time had passed between them. "How is your research going? Any new points of interests or subjects?"

---

Some substantial time passes, and Toru's attention is ripped away by the set of influx of individuals sitting outside. From where she sat in the dining room, she can hear the sounds of feet shuffling in one right after the other as they patiently wait for their host to let them in. Jaakuna leans back in her seat, peering from behind Toru to see the group of shinigami that managed to pass Toru's initial inspection.

One by one, they'll slowly filter in, and she sees a familiar face or two, paths only crossing more than likely through the Academy, such as the likes of Seimei Ukitake. He was one of her students at one point, and occasionally would stop by the Academy to act as one of the overseers for 10th Division recruiting and then ask for a spar or two. If she had the time of day, she'd entertain him in front of the other students to use him as an example. Idly, Jaakuna toyed with the skewer between her teeth, and eyed all passing guests with piqued interest among the unfamiliar faces between all colors of the rainbows between their heads of hair and then some: red, blue, blonde, black locks and for one, ruffled white fur. It was so rare to see someone of their likeness in the Seireitei as a whole, and to have one in the same room was even more so.

"Yaho.” Jaakuna gives a simple greeting and wave to all incoming parties, a gentle smile on her painted lips.

Toru skated around the table, handing out his menus and raving to the others to choose as they please and informing her that she was free to change her item if she wanted. Jaakuna waved her hand for the time being to deny a change. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't stay for long, but she'd stay as long as she could to enjoy herself, and perhaps make some new acquaintances before duties swallowed her whole again.

 

[Yuto]

“Good morning, my sweet guests~! I’m delighted to see you all found my invites and came to see what the deal was!”


A sudden announcement from a detached voice drew the attention of the shorter Shinigami, prompting him to turn toward the source. When his gaze settled on the doorway, all he could see was a terrifying sight—something straight out of a horror movie. Tall and impossibly lanky, with limbs and proportions exaggerated beyond reason, the man radiated an unsettling energy. It was almost as if a Hollow were about to strike—at least, that’s how it felt to Yuto. Every fiber of his being screamed that something about this man was off—not in a way that could be measured by power, but by appearance and presence. His muscles tensed, even as he found himself frozen by a mix of curiosity and unease. The man’s unnerving face, paired with eyes that seemed to pierce straight through him, sent a shiver down Yuto’s spine.

“Erk… I’m feeling a little sick…”


He thought as he felt Toru’s hand rest on his shoulder, almost as if the man were about to perform the most terrifying act on his very soul with just a glance. Every instinct told him to step back, to maintain distance, but some unspoken pressure—the way the air itself seemed to bend around his body—kept him rooted in place. A subtle tug of fear settled in his chest, and for a moment, part of Yuto wanted to run with all his strength. But then the unexpected happened: Toru grabbed his hand and shook it.

“Welcome, welcome! You seem a bit spooked—are you doing alright, buddy? Either way, I’m glad you came! Please, step inside!”


Yuto’s mind raced as he tried to understand what just happened. He’s not doing anything bad… but he’s kind of creepy…


Wait… he’s nice?

The thought surfaced.


Those who paid close attention could see that Yuto was confused—perhaps even bewildered—by the handshake. He seemed genuinely surprised by how friendly and welcoming Toru appeared, despite everything that had just transpired. Still, Yuto made sure not to show any discourtesy in front of the host; that, at least, mattered. Though his confusion was painfully clear on his face, he listened as Toru spoke about taking a seat—careful to avoid Toru’s stool.

“Please, take a seat—any seat, except the stool. That’s mine.”


“O-oh, thanks, Mister Tsunayashiro, for havin’ us,” he muttered, doing his best to show proper grace for being invited to the party. As he was guided to his seat, he looked ahead and discovered the Advanced Hakuda instructor from his days at the Academy. Though he had never been part of her class, he was familiar with her; his fellow classmates often bragged about being tutored by the Academy’s Jewel. Almost immediately, he bowed to her—a gesture instinctive, as one would address a teacher or a superior in their field. It was clear that Yuto was still getting used to the idea of no longer being at the Academy—after all, he had just graduated and was still green to how things were supposed to work. Despite that, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t show respect where it was due. He had great respect for her work as an instructor, and even to this day, he held deep admiration for those who had mentored generations of Shinigami like himself and others.

...

Then he deliberately moved to the spot farthest from the stool, though he made it appear casual, as if he were merely playing it off with his eyes closed and then opening them. To Seimei, that might have seemed hilarious, given that he knew Yuto’s personality.

...

The purple-haired Shinigami continued to observe the other visitors from his seat. Being the first to enter, he had the chance to pay close attention to who the host allowed in. He scanned each face, noting appearance, behavior, and even hints of personality. In other words, he was making mental notes—figuring out who he could get along with, and at the very least, how to avoid pressing anyone’s buttons. Those who immediately caught his attention were Hyoroshi Iwamura and Yugen Kazahana. As for the Wolfman, Yuto briefly wondered whether his fur was actually soft, though he quickly dismissed the thought—after all, this was a fellow member of the Gotei 13 he was talking about. His interest in Yugen Kazahana, on the other hand, stemmed from the small patch of black ink in his red hair, which immediately piqued his curiosity. The others also caught his attention, and he archived them all in his mental notes.


“Please, go through those menus and take your pick of whatever food you’d like. I promise, whatever you want is within those pages!”


Yuto continued to look through the booklets, which contained the names of the dishes. Though he had already decided on something spicy, he wasn’t sure which to choose—chicken or tofu. It was a tough decision, almost more difficult than he expected. His eyebrows narrowed, eyes glued to the ingredients listed behind each name, deciding which sounded more delicious.

“Mmmm… Spicy Karaage… or Mapo Tofu… or… could it be both? Erm… uh…”

The Shinigami murmured aloud to himself, his words half-question, half-prayer, as he struggled to make a decision. A bead of sweat appeared on his forehead. The struggle wasn’t just about food—it was a reality of how indecisive he had always been, even in trivial matters, a habit ingrained long before his time at the Academy. Though, seeing Yuto, Seimei—or even someone else—would likely end up deciding for him anyway.

 

[IshikawaInuzuri]

---

Seimei Ukitake (浮竹 清明)​

---

---

The dinner party had begun to shape into quite a conclave! And it was to be expected, it seemed that quite many ranking Shinigami from various divisions had received the invitation—whether it only included ranking personnel was unknown to Seimei, or the criteria altogether. Before any of the formalities began or before the host of the night revealed himself, Seimei’s emerald gaze shifted slowly from one person to another as if to scan and access the varying quests that had arrived to the occasion and could be found in the waiting room. Behind Seimei’s jovial, light-hearted, even humoristic and rather sarcastic behavior was the child who grew up watching out for any danger that threatened his livelihood, and the sentry of Onmitsukidō that had to watch out for any threat that could bring ruin to any institution of the Soul Society itself. As such, the core of his minds’ eye is always on watch—judging anything or anyone he meets or sees. The first person his gaze captured was the red-headed Yūgen Kazahuna, who immediately appeared as someone reserved, enigmatic and well-behaved. He knew little about him, but he knew his post and division. ”He must be Yūgen Kazahuna. Tall, but doesn’t strike as someone imposing if you may. His posture gives away that he’s certainly a man of formality and fine behavior, artistic even. We might not share the same interests from what I can judge, but I think I can certainly find common ground with him.” he thought to himself as his internal monologue ran like a fine thread within his mind, resonating as deeply as his voice truly would.


The next being his gaze captured was no other than the mighty Hyoroshi Iwamura—someone he’d admired even before seeing the man in person. The beast-like man and himself shared something in common, with both of them having grown in rather modest environments of the farthest reaches of Rukongai. After all, he was known as the Beast of West Seventy-Eight. ”Ah, Hyoroshi Iwamura, a ranked officer of the First Division itself. That alone gives away that he’s a mighty Shinigami in his own right, as those serving directly under Captain-Commander himself are considered model personnel among us. He could well be a lieutenant in our division by those standards indeed. Having grown in similar conditions, I’d likely crack a decent chat with him. And… He’s rather brave for someone of his kind, I give him that. And he is certainly imposing, if I may.” He further continued the monologue within the depths of his consciousness. Internally, he certainly sounds and speaks like an entirely different man than what he does with his colleagues or especially with the likes of Yuto. He was far more thorough and thoughtful than what he led on for certain. After all, he was a former member of Onmitsukidō—and as someone of his former stature, masking himself without a mask and subterfuge was his speciality. And, as said, his childhood demanded him to learn certain skills from a very young age and such ”pleasant” childhood core memories forged him into a rather shadowy person despite what he seems on the outside.


His gaze then locked onto Hideo Shihōin, a man of beautifully kept moon-white hair and his posture and appearance certainly reflected his noble heritage. He had no prior knowledge about the man aside from his name and familial connections, however he did make an assessment despite such. ”A Shihōin certainly, such a posture. This one seems most intriguing, I must observe for the time being as I have less of a read on him than others. The gifts he brought certainly indicate that he has a fine taste for things, which made me wonder why we brought none…” He thought, as the host of the evening had revealed himself at last.


Toru Tsunayashiro—another son of a great noble family and far more peculiar in every manner in comparison to the Shihōin. While the Shihōin seemed aristocratic and noble in every sense possible, from behavior to appearance and demeanor—Toru seemed far different and he certainly had an appearance that could be easily discerned and separated from the rest. Simultaneously, he observed how Yuto would react to the appearance of the host. Knowing the boy, he could say for certain that he expected to meet someone more reminiscent of Hideo Shihōin in Toru Tsunayashiro’s stead—the boy however seemed to cope with the situation surprisingly well, at least for now. After Toru had spoken to his rather short companion, he took his time to greet Seimei as well.

​

“A friend of the little one I assume? Welcome in, please feel free to make your way inside.”​

Seimei extended his right hand for a shake of hands as soon as the rather polite host did the same, and as soon as their hands were within a gripping reach of one another Seimei’s hand as if grabbed Toru’s in a firm manner. He showed his respect in the way you’d expect, a firm, almost powerful and a manly shake. It was a handshake your father would teach you to do. However, Seimei made no true eye contact with the host. His eyes were closed as he had a wide smile painted across his face, appearing immensely joyful and jovial compared to his earlier casual, somewhat reserved and even an enigmatic appearance.

​

”Yeah, he’s kind of my little brother hahhah! Thank you Toru-sama!” ​

He said with an almost overjoyed tone, so much that it would be nearly transparent that he didn’t usually behave in such a manner. And as it stood, he never really did act like he just did. ”Peculiar person, it’ll be interesting to learn more about him tonight.” He thought to himself as he proceeded to walk into the dining room with his short friend. As soon as they’d walked past the host of the night his facial expression immediately returned to what was perhaps his default expression—a cheeky, relaxed smile with a lazy looking but an observant gaze. The manor was truly impressive, far more so than the humble Ukitake estate. It seemed royal in every way and manner, the amount of servants, art, fine furniture, all of it was quite impressive. Not that Seimei cared about such things in general, but he was rarely impressed by things of matter. As soon as they stepped into the dining hall, his gaze captured a familiar sight—Jaakuna Inpei. A woman he certainly admired.


As a former member of Onmitsukidō, Hakuda was a skill that was necessary to learn to at least some degree even if you weren’t a member of the Executive Militia. As such, he did occasionally seek training at Jaakuna’s classes even after his graduation. And after he joined the Tenth Division, he’d often come to recruit new Shinigami to the academy and visiting Jaakuna’s classes wasn’t uncommon at all. And, he’d ask her for sparring as a means of demonstration—with Seimei often being beaten fairly well. ”Probably not the right place to ask her for a spar, as much as I’d enjoy one.” He thought to himself as his minds’ mouth just kept talking. As soon as he saw her, he gave her a respectful nod as he walked forward to take a seat next to his short companion. The only person Seimei hadn’t taken any mental notes of so far was Rokka Kyōraku, but he was certain he’d have enough time to observe him and perhaps strike a chat with him.


But, it was time for food! Yuto and Seimei would’ve taken their seats, and a surprisingly hungry Seimei actually took his time to study the menu and the many choices the kitchen of this manor provided. It did indeed feel royal, as he’d never truly experienced anything like it. As soon as he began considering his options after a moment of skimming, his focus was once more distracted by his companion as he found himself dumbfounded over the indecisiveness of the young. He was green, and a boy just graduated, but he was still a ranked officer and he at least had to know how to order himself a chunk of Tofu or anything of the sort. However, as hungry as he was, he took it onto himself to handle the order on his friends’ behalf instead of bullying him in an event as public and prolific as this.

​

”Ehm, my companion next to me would like to order spicy Karaage AND Mapo Tofu. And a glass of some fine sake. I’d love a bundle of game meat skewers, traditional onigiri and grilled salmon. And a glass of fine sake as well!” ​

Seimei, in a somewhat interrupting manner, took it upon himself to make an order on behalf of his younger brother and himself. As soon as he made the order, he turned his previously lazy and observant gaze to a rather annoyed gaze as his eyes as if scolded the young boy and told him to get his act together..​

---

​