Northeast Seireitei

[Cinder]

Kaisei watched with short-lived disappointment as the one and only thing of interest was reduced to french toast before his very eyes. With left hand lazily resting atop the pummel of his sheathed Zanpakuto, and the other covering a deep yawn, did he continue to watch unamused as Shin’eki brought forth his juvenile Bankai to deal with an insect; it was like pouring an entire container of pesticide onto a single insect where one light stomp would do.

So as a recap, Kaisei had woken, gotten out of bed, made it out of the Fifth, cut down a bunch of moronic Shinigami rebels on the way to Shin’eki, and found that the entire effort had been for naught.

For that reason, when his Fourth Seat was finally done flaunting, and the dust-cloud dissipated, the two locked eyes. Kaisei looked down at the suspect’s charred, and absolutely dead, corpse, then back at Shin’eki; he shook his head disappointedly, the often uncaring smirk replaced with a deep frown. In the end though, he couldn’t be bothered with any of it, including Shin’eki, so he didn’t say a single thing and simply pivoted on his heel in an about face, and started on his lazy trek to his family’s Estate in Central Seireitei.

After serving under Kaisei all these years, Shin’eki would know that his superior’s silence spoke for itself; meaning: I can’t with you, so shut the fuck up and follow.
​

---

Traveling to Tsunayashiro Estate in Central Seireitei from Northeast Seireitei​

---

 

[Kuvello]

As his eyes looked with Kaisei-senpai’s, a wave of embarrassment would flood over him. His body becoming hot, his face undoubtedly grew into a deep flush, it was almost as if his superior had caught him with his pants down. Not only because of the death of the witness, Shin’eki had otherwise been encumbered with, but also with his reveal and exposure of his otherwise never before seen Bankai. A secret he’d have kept since his recent arrival from the wastes of Hueco Mundo. As Shin’eki went to try to speak, the opening of his mouth would be met with the look that was shifted toward Shin’eki as Vice-Captain Tsunayashiro looked up from the charred sandbag that was once considered a Rukongai citizen.

Kaisei’s signature “Go To Hell” look spoke volumes to Shin’eki, a novel of which he’d have hoped to never recant. Though, despite all of this, Shin’eki would follow suit behind his lime-haired superior, his head held down, much like that of a child who had just been reprimanded. The red-haired shinigami would clench his zanpakuto within his hands, before tucking it, saya and all, back into his obi. Now with Kaisei taking the helm, the pressure upon Shin’eki’s shoulders would lessen, at least to some degree.

One thing still clawed at the back of his mind however, where was Hashimoto-taichou, and exactly what role was he playing in this whole thing, treasonous sure, but for what, and why? Softly beginning to speak up, as the two rounded the next corner, unseated members of fifth and brushing past them, headed in the opposite direction.

”So, uh we’re still on the same side right, Lieutenant-Tsunashiro? What’s become of the Captain, do you know what was terrorizing the people of Rukongai this morning?”

Before he knew it, the dam of questions flooded from Shin’eki’s mouth. A slight sense of panic now settled in, after now having the potential for any length of ease in the tension of the situation that loomed over the entirety of Seireitei. Despite his desire for knowledge, deep in his gut, Shin’eki knew Kaisei would probably retain information from him; Such was the extent of their relationship, at least in some capacity. Such was the practice of nobility, and now with Kaisei having seen Shin’eki’s Bankai, in its initial state no less, such knowledge could be used as blackmail or leverage in the face of Hashimoto-taichou, if he even were to return to his post.

So much has changed since this morning. Should Shin’eki even regard the treacherous Hashimoto as captain still, or had his rebellion quelled any significance of his character, and position he once held? Also, just where was Kaisei leading them? Too many questions bubbled at the surface of Shin’s psyche. Perhaps he should place more faith in Kaisei, or was that just wishful thinking on his part?

Surely Kaisei would realize the severity of the situation, that not only lay out before the both of them, but for the entirety of the Gotei Thirteen as a whole. 5th Division, of which Hashimoto himself ran, would surely be under the most scrutiny than any of the others.

​

 

[admins]

10 MONTHS LATER

 

[Kuu]

One could only be so thankful in the quiet prickling across the Seireitei, knowing that it was a bland sense of normalcy attempting in vain to settle under the still festering threats of conflict. Shinigami bustled about as they seemingly always had, feet tapping along, dull chatter permeating the ever tense atmosphere. How they craved the old routine. Bad as it may have been for most, it was better than the aftermath of such a display of horror and welting power.

What they desired above all was a foreign concept to one of the newest amongst the teetering hustle and bustle. Objective normalcy was never a given, nor was it a necessity, if only these lesser beings had the capacity to understand such a concept outside their tiny realms of subjectivity.

The woman couldn't guide them as though they were sheep. She was no shepherd, her virtues landing far, far from the compassion needed to herald this abundant flock of half-witted weaklings toward the enlightened hope of a better tomorrow.

What she could do for them, however, was observe. The help she could offer by absorbing the plights of the common man would be invaluable, figuring out what they lacked and compensating for it with artificial blessings.

Shibuya bit into her korokke– Lacking the punch and flavour of her chefs back home, she noted-, mulled thoughts flickering as she followed every person that crossed her vision, sitting comfortably in front of a restaurant that she remembered the name of, but chose to not dignify with acknowledgement for their sub-par goods.

Honestly, wasn't the Seireitei supposed to be luxurious? Filled with the best food, clothing, whatever-whatever and what-have-you? From the short time she's spent within its oddly claustrophobic confines, Shibuya would argue the dirt encrusted garbage of Rorokon and its neighbouring districts were better, if only because they didn't taste of disinfectant and try-hard bullcrockery.

Her overall disappointment with the ever-unknown interior of these disgustingly pristine walls knows no bounds.

Not a single person has truly stuck out to her in the time she's been a commissioned officer. Her want to create and improve petering ever lower with each passing day. The common folks incessant craving for their normal made for a boring routine outside of the S.R.D.I's bowels– even within them was not much better.

Every division has their own woes, picking up shattered pieces and trying to fill voids where they can, their duties overbearing in the vacuum of power only a few have stepped up to.

12th has the ever-tedious duty of watching day-and-night for anything vaguely out of place or suspicious across the myriads of monitors lighting up their densely packed depths while continuing on with their various individual projects, on top of whatever work was hoisted upon them as the only squad full of bright minds and inventors capable of supplying the Seireitei their nigh endless list of supposed necessities.

Those that have been there longer than Shibuya likely felt that power vacuum to some extent, but what set them apart from their lesser peers of the varied divisions was the fact they could function mostly unhindered without a Captain at their helm. It wasn't like they were particularly organized in the first place, a fact she'd picked up on through her limited time with them. Their duties, while arduous, mind numbing, sleep-depriving, were covered easily enough. Pills and caffeine packed snacks passed around like candy to grabby, grotesque hands.

Unique in looks they are, Shibuya would be remiss if she didn't admit 12ths freaks and weirdos are just as plain as the tottering nobodies striding past her half-hearted glare of frustration.

She had been glad, truly, that she had missed the 'action' so to speak, that her life was secure for the moment, not having to put her near millennium of life at risk was for the best. It's just that the mundanity of pampered good-for-nothings made her want to rip someone else's hair out.

Sigh.

At least she has her own thoughts to occupy her.

"Underachiever. Chatterbox. Moron with a praise complex."

Came her hissed remarks. Every blatant insult struck to the unaware Shinigami emphasized with a gesture- Hand occupied by her half-eaten korokke levelled the beheaded patty at every person she sought to badmouth.

"Clumsy dolt. Fatass. Dullard. Fish face."

She continued, head turning up to look down her nose at them as she leaned back and crossed her legs. Her cruel, imposed words would never make it to her target's ears, so she felt free to judge them entirely based on her outward observations. Accurate or not, it did lift her spirits to imagine what sorts of lives these inferior beings led– And how awful they were at everything in said lives.

"Squad failure."

A snort followed as she watched the faceless Shinigami nearly trip over their own feet as they hurried off. She was honestly just the best at judging others' characters at a glance. The best.

They did, however, make her pause, sparks of an idea igniting puny embers.

"Perhaps it would be possible to completely reconstruct one's muscular functions? Prevent all these dumb babies from making fools of themselves…

Hmm…

Or even ensure a certain level of martial ability?"

Humming, she took a heavily belated bite of her now lukewarm korokke.

A moment, then another, and yet another–

Finally, she shook her head, clearing her thoughts of everything that made her still in rumination.

"... No, no. Far too many factors to consider and plan around. It'd take me years to even conceptualize that, let alone fully realize it.

Gah! It's such a good idea, though."

It really, truly is a fantastic idea, in her opinion. Something that would land her some status, perhaps even leeway and pull for securing the subjects required for the next Azamushi– Unluckily it would be a logistics nightmare, not to mention how cumbersome a task it'd be to find…. participants willing to lend their still living bodies to science.

The first idea she's had since coming to this hellscape and it just had to be so good it'd have to be worked on on the side.

Utterly, completely saddening.​

 

[StephDLegend]

---------Coming from NorthWest Seireitei-------------
Home..... Home had changed since the civil war. Not only was it not the same but there was a somber feeling among the clan. Having the leader of the clan betray not only the clan but the soul society was quite a lot. It was hard on them all. Then there was Kinkō who was at the end of Sachiko's life. He saw her right before she rightfully perished. Yet, he failed. He failed to do his duty. That failure made him fall into a place of depression and while he did recover from it, the clan was still in a bad state. They needed a new leader and he hoped he was going to be able to become such a leader. First, he needed to break his limits and get strong. No one would take him seriously if he didn't have strength to back up his words.

Having completed his bankai training, Kinkō left the 3rd division training barracks. While training with the captain for quite some time, he spent the last 2 weeks training straight and that had made him quite tired. The little breaks he got were not enough but they were ultimately what pushed him further. When he arrived, he saw members of the family going about their day.

There was something he wanted to do before he rested. He walked over to the burial site and moved to his sister's grave. "I have returned, Heikō." He knelt down and closed his eyes. He payed his respects and prayed like he did every time he came to the grave. He opened his eyes and smiled softly. "We have much to talk about. First, I apologize for not fully accepting and embracing Hikari as my own zanpakuto. I do now. She and Yami are my zanpakuto." He smiled as he spoke.

"Now that the apologies are out of the way, I guess I should let you know that we have unlocked our bankai. My true battle wasn't an external one but one of true acceptance. Once again, Heikō, thank you. There is much for me to do and I will do it. Rest well." Now having spoke to his sister, he bowed respectfully and left the burial site of the Kuchiki manor. He made his way back to the main area slowly. He was different from the man he was before the civil war and even before. He had ultimately changed when he lost Heikō. Now he changed again, for the better this time.

He made his way to his personal chambers and got ready to rest. He earned rest and now he would have it. He laid on the bed and closed his eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep.​

 

[Nobody]

Of all the Divisions, the Fourth is perhaps the one still truly reeling from the events Ten Months prior, having been demolished and leveled by the Ittō Kasō set off from within the division barracks itself, a spell categorized stronger than its contemporary spell, Kurohitsugi. Many powerful and competent medics were lost that day, a heavy blow to the Gotei 13 that was in dire need of their services after the civil war that saw their forces greatly divided. Much blame had been placed on the late Vice-Captain Hachikō Goseikanjo who, rather than attending to both her Division and duties instead indulged in her own cravings and lust for violence, battle...bloodshed.

However, with the deaths of the dissenters and the less competent Vice-Captain, it left the Division stagnant, a stagnation that trickled down like an infection to the rest of the Seireitei. With the destruction of the barracks and Coordinated Relief Station (綜合救護詰所, "Sōgō Kyūgo Tsumesho") it left a series of questions. Where were the injured to go, who would attend them, and finally who would or rather could lead the healers?

With Captain Shihaimono turned Commander Shihaimono efforts at rebuilding both figuratively and literally were placed throughout the Seireitei, much priority placed on the Fourth Division to expedite getting their medical facilities up and operational. Until then, many of the injured were housed and treated within the Twelfth Division, and by many of its members, members such as Shibuya Harai and Nanami Teishi. While the two weren't healers or medics by virtue, their skills and expertise in their respective fields were sufficient enough to aid during the Seireitei's hour of need.

Months passed before Itaku found himself finally freed from the confines of his Inner World and the ceaseless battle against his demented doppelgänger. Months had passed like years, when he finally woke up he was physically weak. Debriefed on what had happened and the part he played in Captain Nakazawa's death while transformed Itaku could only drop his head shamelessly, his hair that had grown covering his face. While it appeared that he was lamenting having contributed to the death of a Captain the truth was, he didn't care that Captain Nakazawa was dead, nor did he cared that he was partially at fault. The only thing he did care about was the fact that his control over himself was compromised. He was walking a tight rope, understanding that at any given moment, he could slip and be overtaken by that twisted shadow of himself.

However, all was not completely bleak. Lifting his head he was met with a Captain's Haori. He was requested to return back to the Fourth Division as its new Captain. With the Division under construction, and its former Vice-Captain dead along with the death of many other Captains they were greatly in need of powerful souls to restore their ranks, and there was no practitioner of Kaidou greater than Itaku at the time.

"For what I've done..even though I wasn't myself, I'm not worthy to fill such a role..."
His voice meek and quiet, a light tremble in his voice as his head once more hangs low. A shakey hand raises up, fingers resting against the offered haori, curling as they clench the pristine white garment.

"But, if I can atone for my part in all of this...even if by a little. I will give it my all, to be the Captain the division and the Seireitei needs."

He stares up with firm yet watery eyes, tears trickling down his face. 'Heh how convenient. A promotion, and to the Fourth as well! I couldn't be more lucky. Means I'll get to stay back when the others rush out to deal with all the troublesome battles.' Inwardly, he couldn't help but giggle internally, giddy at this unexpected but fortuitous outcome. ​

---

PRESENT DAY
"U-ugh! I-I can-"
From within the Coordinated Relief Station, specifically from the training auditorium a female's voice could be heard. Panting, exhausted and shaky, it was a voice filled with doubt. "Don't say that. You're doing well! Just breathe. Relax your mind, slow your breathing..your thoughts..and focus." This time it was Itaku's voice, calm and soothing as he encouraged the female.

Inside the auditorium were several rows of Shinigami, each one kneeling on the ground. Before them were Gigai (義骸, Faux Body) like cadavers. Every shinigami was practicing their Healing Kidō (治療用鬼道, Chiryōyō Kidō; Viz "Healing Spiritual Arts"), some struggling more than others, such as the woman kneeled before him. Since his time as Captain Itaku has visited the Shin'ō Academy, personally recruiting those who seemed competent in Kido but were either overlooked or, for one reason or another not picked up by the Kido Corps. With his warm approach, charming smile, sparkling reputation and his status as a Captain, many felt honored to be "personally selected" to join the Fourth Division.

Sweat trickled down the girl's forehead and brow as she tried to listen to her Captain's words. She inhaled deeply, taking a deep breath before slowly expelling it. Slowly the glow of her Kaidō grew, becoming stronger, brighter, more vibrant. Seeing the progress she was making she beamed up at Itaku who patted her shoulder in response.

"See? You can do it if you try."

She nods her head and the Captain walks off, slowly strolling down the isle of bodies hard at work, nodding his head here, shaking his head and pointing out deficiencies there. While none of them came close to his level, the hapless fools were decent enough.

"Alright everyone! Keep up the hard work! Break in ten minutes, I'll be back to check on your progress soon!"

He steps out of the massive room, and lets out a disgruntled sigh, running his fingers through his hair, his joy filled expression turned deadpan. He walks through the halls, the gentle mask being applied and tossed off as he passed by others, ponytail bopping up and down, back and forth before he finally reaches outside. Resting his back against the outer wall he stared up towards the sky, eyes widening as he perceives violent spiritual vibrations from the spirit threads flowing from the Northwestern Sector of the Seireitei. 'What the-' He questions what he is perceiving, and moves to hop atop the roof, staring at the direction of what he is perceiving. Pupils dilate when another massive reiatsu causes violent spiritual vibrations through the threads. Itaku reads these threads and their vibrations and perceives the hostility bleeding off from them. 'Oh brother, not again.'

Itaku assumes what others are perhaps also assuming, more infighting. Could another civil war break out? So soon after the last one? "Whatever, this's got nothing to do with me. All I need to do is throw up a barrier and stay housed here. Weather the storm-"

As if to dispel his assumptions and shatter his dreams on gentle flapping wings, a Jigokuchō (地獄蝶, Hell Butterfly) flutters through the air towards him. He frowns, yet raises his hand, allowing the Jigokuchō to land quietly.
​

Captain Ohei, you presence has been requested to be on stand by within the Northwest sector for a possible clash between two Captain level Shinigami, under no circumstances is there to be anymore death to befall of either them or the Shinigami within the Seireitei if a clash was to happen. Failure to do so is not an option.​

With the message relayed, the butterfly takes off, fluttering away.

"Smells like trouble."

A voice calls out from the ground. Itaku steps forward and peers over the edge towards the owner of the voice. "Ah, its you Kokuren-chan." One of the many nurses that works in the Coordinated Relief Station. Kokuren was one of the one's present when Goro was performing the autopsy Shirai Hikaru. When the Ittō Kasō went off Itaku had saved both her and Goro. Having gone through something so traumatic, when Itaku was elevated to Captain he went to check on her. Having heard that it was Itaku who saved her and seeing him come check on her after the fact, caused her to feel a deep attachment towards him. She had intended on trying to transfer out or, at the very least find a way to leave her position. Learning that Itaku was taking over the Division re-steeled her resolve, committing herself to become his personal assistant.

"So, what's the word boss? We heading somewhere?"

Itaku hops down to the ground, arms resting behind him. He blows some of his hair from over his eyes. "Eh I'll deal with that later. For now, I need you to head to Twelfth. See if you can find the midget. We need those parts still for the Department of Psychology." Kokuren tilts her head before nodding. "You're the boss. Will head out right away Doctor."

He nods as she steps off into a Shunpo, headed towards the Twelfth Division, unaware that the person she was sent to was currently elsewhere. Moments after her disappearance, Itaku looks back towards the Northwest, his frown still prominent on his face.

"Fuck."

 

[Kuu]

---

Nigh endless mumbling cut short as a shudder raked through Shibuya's spine, tingling with the seemingly rapid succession of venomous reiatsu breaking her of her own self-induced stupor.

Despite the distance between her and the disturbances it still set off the panic in her head, running and leaping to conclusions head-on, hesitation a foreign concept. The pure instinct to hone in on its source forced her head up, eyes scanning streets and buildings as she sorted each unique spiritual signature between her, that bankai, and the reiatsu that had shocked her enough to garner her attention.

Reiatsu was normal enough to feel in Seireitei and Rukongai alike. Rukongai was a haven of ruthlessness, the norm was bloodlust. And while a conflict had only recently "concluded" in Seireitei, it still struck her as odd to suddenly sense the familiarity of the outskirts of her home cozied up with the pampered and blessed.

Odd enough were it one occurrence, something she could dampen, block from affecting her in any substantial way– But both that reiatsu and the bankai wasn't something so easily pushed aside. It wasn't another cub baring its fangs for the first time in some hostile ego-trip. No. This was worth her initial panic.

Pinpointing the sources wasn't difficult, not in the least. Said sources more than open to broadcast their location for all to see, blasting a bright neon sign designating 'Come and look! Behold my might!' or some-such showcase of power, she assumed.

It was coming from the Northwest.

'Just my luck,' she laments with a sniffle, resetting her posture, crumpling the remaining waste from her snack in a perfectly manicured hand, now long-since calmed as she took her time assessing the threats buzzing in her eardrums like annoyingly loud gnats.

It still wasn't her problem to deal with whatever was out for blood, and whoever had triggered said beast- what was her problem was the fact they were only going to get more unbearably tiresome when she finally had to return to her post. The wicked rest as much as the wise; As both descriptors, Shibuya appreciated her down time now that she had more bearing down upon her shoulders than simply keeping her clan going.

If she didn't already lament her luck, she would've done so as she felt the brush of a lesser presence disrupt her break further.

The kid, unseated from 12th, name remembered but foregone in lieu of his awful timing approaching her, stops a safe distance from her. The norm in 12th was the constant invasion of personal space. The tight confined space of their labs and what-have-you leaves no room, literally and figuratively, for such a useless thing as boundaries. Public was hardly the safety of claustrophobic quarters.

"Speak," she barks, clipped.

"Harai-dono, your presence has been requested at the S.R.D.I,"

"By whom?"

"A woman from the Fourth Division's Relief Station. She said it's urgent,"

Shibuya sighs, loud and exaggerated. She's about to speak when the kid beats her to the punch.

"Please, ma'am, we need to hurry before she breaks something–"

"Breaks something–!?"

"She's bringing hell upon us looking for you, ma'am."

If Shibuya were capable of sighing any louder she may well have broken the sound barrier. Luck was a fake concept made-up by idiots who didn't understand cause and consequence, but the redhead was so, so tempted to truly chalk the day up to bad luck at this point.

"Fucking Fourth," muttered and bitter for all but a brief second.

"Fucking Ōhei," she corrects, rubbing at her temples with her free hand as she stands.

Another exasperated sigh escapes her, turning to the kid and the new destination she was prepared to avoid until the problem too close for comfort solved itself– Whether that had been peacefully or not didn't matter as long as the rift was sewn back up, even if shoddily, so she wouldn't have to take any undue risk in her inevitable commute back to work.

She can't do much to vent her frustration at the situation, so she takes a small, petty moment to toss her crumpled leftovers at the kid. It bounces off his chest harmlessly.

"Fine. I'll handle it," as-if she had any choice in the matter, internal objections bitten down try as she may to make her problems as palpable as possible even as she steps gracefully into a Shunpo toward her destination.




​

---

Northeast → Northwest​

 

[Lovely Lady]

​

---

"Shiiiiizu”

"Mmmn?…”

"Shiiizukana!”

"Hmm?...”

"SHIZUKANAAAAA!!!”

Tumbling from quite the height, a stuffed rabbit landed on the stomach of a sleeping woman and this knocked her off of the couch that she was sleeping on to which she landed loudly onto the floor. The white rabbit then went on to jump all around haphazardly, shouting at her as she rubbed her tired and now slightly sore head.

"Oof!”

“What’re you doin’?! You’re sleepin’ in again!"

"Oowwch!..That really hurt Romeo!”

"You’re lucky that’s all you’re gettin’!”

"Don’t be…rude...Zzz...zzz…”

SMACK

"Ah!?!”

Having lost the last ounce of patience he had, the rabbit lifted his plushie foot and landed it squarely on the top of the snoozing captain’s head and this jolted her back to a drowsy state of attention. The woman’s figure rose up from the floor with the doll still in her hands dropping off the various sheets she’d been cuddling in the process. The sentient stuffie struggled in her grasp which led her to drop him too to which he scurried off into her office to parts unknown. Taking her time, she stretched her slender arms into the air and tossed her mess of icy blue hair over her shoulders so that it wouldn’t be in her way for the foreseeable future. After this, she kind of just sat there dazed and confused until she suddenly hopped to her feet and crossed the carpeted room. She went over to a closet where a white haori ensemble hung by its lonesome as if it had been awaiting her.
Momentarily, The Captain of the Fifth Division, found herself bewitched by its regal beauty and allowed herself a minute to run the tips of her fingers gingerly along its material before she lifted it from its hanger and slipped it on. Sluggishly, she proceeded to push open her chamber’s large window so that she could permit fresh air to flood into her office. Surprisingly, to her amusement this late morning breeze was not the only thing that had found its way to her, evidenced by the arrival of a delicate Jigokuchō (地獄蝶, 'Hell Butterfly.’) which saw fit to perch upon her shoulder. Just as she began to listen to the message it had been charged to bring her, she couldn’t help but begin to anticipate who could have had any business with her and what they might have to say.
Far too quickly, as she often did, the captain let her imagination get the better of her and contemplated a rather exciting notion amongst the swarm of possibilities whirling around in her brain.

What if I have a secret admirer…and he's far too shy to interact with me face to face!…What if it wasn’t even him but his evil twin and his whispers of sweet nothings through the hell butterfly was a ploy to get me to let down my guard and fall hopelessly into his trap?!

With a flustered giggle and a reddening face, Kurayami twirled in place and then, because she was unable to hold back from finding out any longer, she offered her tiny visitor a joyful smile silently bidding it to unveil what it had been sent to relay.

"Captain Kurayami, we need to speak as soon as you are able. Bring some fruit. Thanks.”

When the voice that emitted from the Jigokuchō was not a man’s but a woman’s the captain gave a slight pout and she felt herself fading away the throes of her initial fantasy.

'That voice...'
She knew that voice!
As a former agent of the tenth with operations in the human world, it wasn’t unheard of that Shizukana would more often than not run into thirteenth division officers but there was one in particular she liked to share her company with the most. Kasu Shinka was a calm and refined soul who seemed to always have a pleasant word for her and intriguing stories from her years as a Shinigami that Kurayami simply loved to indulge in. Since the cities under the protection of the soul society were so close, she’d made it a habit to meet with Shinka for lunch. During this time, she’d bring an alarming amount of fruit to share with Kasu and it seemed that the Captain of the thirteenth division must have remembered this.
‘How sweet! Goodness, I hope it’s not something bad…’

Kurayami gave a pleased yawn which caused the butterfly to flutter back out the window from whence it had come. Alas, now she found herself rather befuddled because for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what Captain Shinka could possibly want besides a snack break but that couldn’t possibly be all could it?
Not that she’d complain.
Doubtlessly, the fruit would be something sweet for them to share while they had a more pertinent discussion about something unrelated to the fruit…but what? Regrettably, she had to admit that she’d been less than available to any of her colleagues as of late having been spending most if not all of her time preoccupied by her work. It had been ten long months for the lovely lady, most of which she’d spent crying into her prayers for the lost and thus far she’d been avoiding everything and everyone and at war's end had disappeared to bury herself in the sands of Hueco Mundo. There she searched alongside carefully constructed teams for any trace of their despicable targets but, despite her persistence, she came up empty every time with her remarking that her plight was akin to hunting ghosts and she’d been at it with such little reprieve that every now and then she found herself questioning if the villains had ever existed in the first place and everything around her might have been a nightmare.
Not that it was unheard of, it was still out of the ordinary for anyone much less the artist to seek her out and something told her it wasn’t going to pertain to anything nice. Having had such a rude awakening, Shizukana was still rather stunned but what was important was that she was awake now and needed to hurry up and adjust to reality.
Unfortunately, she was not immediately prepared for how quickly she’d need to do that.

"!"

Captain Kurayami had been hoping for just a minute or two to revel in that late morning’s serenity but her breath caught itself in her throat, her heart sank and she turned to face the direction of an eruption of reiatsu in the Northwest. The disappointment that followed was not brought about solely because there was yet another senseless fight about to commence but that she recognized the signatures and knew them both very well.

At a glance, she’d automatically determined that Firstly, her vice-captain Densagi Shiba was marching forth exerting nothing but malice and deadly intent and was exclusively directing it toward the new Kenpachi, or as Shizukana inaccurately but fondly referred to him as…Grandpa. Thus far, it appeared that Captain Aijo was reserved in his approach for the time being and she had to assume that the old man was faced with little choice other than to begin exchanging careful words with the outraged Lieutenant in order to avoid disaster.
Sure enough, she began to witness both of their signatures closing the gap between themselves and the venom of Densagi’s fury continued rising. The meaning of this must have lit a fire under Shizukana because she was no longer standing by the couch in her office as she had shunpo’d away out of her window on a mission to put a stop to it.
In addition to this, this upset had ensured that Captain Kurayami was met with quite the dilemma because now she had to make a choice between following through to see about Captain Shinka’s request in a timely manner and putting a stop to yet another impending tragedy in the process.

She was quite sure that by now, Kasu and virtually the rest of the soul society had to have sensed the spiritual ruckus so she had no trouble deciding that her gal pal would have to wait for her just a little bit longer. As if it was responding to a soundless call, she chartered her own hell butterfly and tasked it to send Shika a message of her own.

"Sure thing, but please forgive me because it seems I'll be a little late!"
​

---

TRAVELING FROM THE NORTHEAST TO THE NORTHWEST​

 

[KagiSenkō]

"What of Kinko Kuchiki?"

"What of him?"

"Well....we have gone long enough without a head of the Clan. We can no longer appear weak before the other great noble houses!"

"And yet, we coward in our great hall talking about nothing. And now you want to bring him in?"

"Well....if we do nothing, we will lose our status as one of the great noble houses. Our reputation is dwindling and has been for years. The last thing we should consider is combining houses with...."

Three members of the Kuchiki elders talked amongst themselves, debating what was next for the Kuchiki clan, for their weakened state from being slaughtered, and one traitorous woman, Sachiko Kuchiki. The former Head of the Clan met her demise ten months ago. However, one member did not speak, and she remained silent while the rest debated foolishly until this quiet woman stepped in with her words to finish what she wouldn't allow someone to say with a simple response.

"No."

The room fell quiet; her voice had more authority and weight over the rest of them. They all looked in her direction at each member's round table.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN N...."

"NO!"

The woman Kuchiki raised her voice once more as if she were the parent raising their voice at children.

"I never wish you to speak, let alone mention those lowly family names in this house. I know what family you are going to say, and I shall quite frankly slit your throat if you try to mention them at this table."

Not once did she ever look at any member at the table. The elderly Kuchiki's eyes had been shut the entire time. There was no need for anyone to see her eyes; her voice speaks enough to what she expresses. What family did she not want them to talk to or about?

"We will not sully ourselves with the likes of them. We have preserved our way for many centuries. We have thrived to be the protector of peace and order. And you dare try to whisper their names? Here? I should cut out your throat as you all sit here and bicker over trivial matters."

"Being as it may, Hana. You cannot make such a ruling; that should be up to the Head, and we do not have that now, do we?"

"Tch. We do not have a Head of the Clan. We can run this Clan without one!"

"OUTRAGOUS! Your words are ridiculous and speak of blasphemy! For centuries, we have had a Head member of this Clan! Do you dare break that tradition? Have you gone mad, Hana?" The older man spoke.


"Gone mad? No. I am merely speaking the truth! You all can go to hell with your foolish ideas!" slamming her hand onto the table.

"Now, now. Everyone remains calm. There's no point in bringing this matter up. However, Hana, we will not break tradition, regardless of your feelings or thoughts. We shall bring the young master with the right to becoming the next Head of the Clan. We shall speak of this matter when...."

A shinigami clad in purple jumpsuit attire appeared before the other member of the group of 4, who was in the middle of talking. They whisper into their ear briefly, only to vanish from sight as quickly as they appear.

"It appears the young Kuchiki had returned from training. I am sure he is resting, but once he is better. We shall invite him to the council and see how he feels about the matter. I already told the guard to send him before us once he has the strength to move. Until then, we shall talk no more of this."

She said while only a few remained cordial of the idea, one of them was impartial, and the final woman who voiced herself in an unethical way was highly upset about how things had turned out. Now, with many of the challenges ahead for the Kuchiki clan, many decisions must be made. Possibly, a nice change of pace will push the Kuchiki into a greater force in time, or will they perish and travel further into obscurity? The young Kinko Kuchiki has a lot of shoes to fill; if he becomes Head of the Clan, what shall he do to get the clan moving forward?

 

[Nobody]

Those going about their own respective duties have perhaps felt the rumbling of reiatsu in the air. A single question, or rather a single statement uniting the thoughts of many.

'Not again'

They were still healing from the war that divided the Gotei 13, still coming to terms with the loss of powerful souls, of Captains and Vice Captains, yet once again they felt a surge and potential of clash between powerful souls once again. As things had died out, they thought perhaps their fears were unfounded, maybe it was but a training session that had gotten a bit out of hand. That is, until they feel a heavy reiatsu coming from Northwestern sector, a massive imposing tree rising and standing strong.

"W-what is that?!"

A soul calls out, voice quivering as he falls backwards and collapses to the ground. As if things couldn't get worst, the massive red "sun" descending from the sky and the reiatsu that came with it caused hearts to stop, pulses to race. While there were few who had ever seen Kagi's bankai those who had seen Densagi's were far fewer, and of the two souls...only one bankai was completely forbidden to be used anywhere but Hueco Mundo.

"We...We have to, AHHHH!!!"

Another soul frightened by the reiatsu of not one but TWO bankai was ready to leave. Instinct telling him they should leave. Yet he acted too slow, was too slow to speak up as a single bolt lands against him and others, their spiritual power instantly sapped from them, causing them to collapse to the ground, their fates unknown. Those who had seen these panicked immediately as they scrambled over one another, seeking any manner of shelter they could. A pointless effort. Each soul unfortunately, had to bear the burden of becoming potential collateral damage. Nourishment for both Densagi and his Bankai.

It was something the man himself would never want, it is why while he loved his zanpakuto, he hated his bankai. It was a power not fit for protecting anything or anyone, all it was good for...was destroying and taking. Unable to look out of fear, escape all any could think of, the massive sphere that hung high over the bankai born tree, seemed somewhat bigger than when it had first descended.