Rukongai

[admins]

Northern Rukongai​

District #	District Name	Notable Events	Current Status	District Size
1	Komakaitana (細かい棚, Fine Ledge)		Functional / Inhabited	Small
2	Natsukashii (懐かしい, Fond Memory)		Functional / Inhabited	Small
3	Midorine (緑根, Green Root)		Functional / Inhabited	Small
28	Murasakikiri (紫霧, Purple Mist)	Furuguchi Ancestral Home	Lawless / Inhabited	Small
79	Kusajishi (草鹿, Grass Deer)		Lawless / Inhabited	Enormous
80	Zaraki (更木, New Tree)		Lawless / Inhabited	Enormous

Southern Rukongai​

District #	District Name	Notable Events	Current Status	District Size
1	Yōsai (要塞, Fortress)		Functional / Inhabited	Small
42	Kodaikemono (古代獣, Ancient Beast)	Komamura Ancestral Home	Lawless / Inhabited	Medium
57	Jigokukairō (地獄回廊, Hell's Corridor)		Lawless / Inhabited	Medium
58	Kuroihashi (黒い橋, Black Bridge)		Lawless / Inhabited	Medium
65	Han'ei (繁栄, Prosperity)		Lawless / Inhabited	Large
78	Inuzuri (戌吊, Hanging Dog)		Lawless / Inhabited	Large

Western Rukongai​

District #	District Name	Notable Events	Current Status	District Size
1	Junrinan (潤林安, Lush Forest Peace)		Functional / Inhabited	Small
3	Hokutan (北端, North End)		Functional / Inhabited	Small
4	Karyū (下流, Downstream)	Higasa Estate	Functional / Inhabited	Small
10	Aoihana (青い花, Blue Flower)		Lawless / Inhabited	Small
30	Okashikuni (お菓子国, Candyland)		Lawless / Inhabited	Small
32	Hokuseikawa (北西川, Northwest River)		Lawless / Inhabited	Medium
48	Semariyami (迫り来る闇, Looming Darkness)		Lawless / Inhabited
77	Sōshō (創傷, Wound)		Lawless / Wasteland	Large
80	Tamaya (霊屋, Mausoleum)		Lawless AS HELL / Inhabited	Enormous

Eastern Rukongai​

District #	District Name	Notable Events	Current Status	District Size
3	Museigen (無制限, Limitless)		Functional / Inhabited	Small
31	Rōrōkon (朗朗圏, Roaring Circle)	Harai Compound	Functional / Inhabited	Small
64	Sabitsura (錆面, Rusted Face)		Lawless / Inhabited	Large
76	Sakahone (逆骨, Reverse Bone)		Lawless / Inhabited	Large
78	Ichirin (一輪; One Flower)		Lawless / Wasteland	Enormous
79	Shinsha (神社, Shrine)		Lawless / Inhabited	Large

Small	Less than 50 sq miles
Medium	Between 50 and 150 sq miles
Large	Between 150 and 400 sq miles
Enormous	Greater than 400 sq miles

 

[admins]

---

10 Years Later
Part 2 Begins

---

 

[Ywi]

Shibuya followed the Shihouin, listened to every reprimand dully, even her own, offering nothing but a scoff, face crinkling. She knew this wouldn't be permanent, much as her ambitions craved for ever higher skies. She's selfish, a non-combatant, only ever searching for the means to her own ends. That didn't stop the sting of humiliation as she offered her haori to the baldie, gritting her teeth, face grim and filled with nothing but frustration, and turned on her heel to march out of the meeting at hand. She had no intention of continuing to listen to what no longer concerned her. And, as it stood, stripped of her Captaincy, even a numbered seat, in her mind nothing pertaining to the Seireitei concerned her. Least of all the Gotei 13.

In a sense it was freeing, she thought, to be able to go back to her prior life. Not that any higher-ups would allow her to do so- But that's the thing, isn't it? She was now a nameless, faceless peon in her division, so what does it matter if she returned to her family's hallowed grounds out in Rukongai? Even with her skill, the fact is that she'd been deemed a useless creature by the Captain Commander, and what good is something useless? It isn't, thus she isn't, thus; She would return home. Perhaps with her tail between her legs, humiliated like a dog, but alive and no-worse for wear. Which is more than she could say for many others who actually engaged in that last kerfuffle.

Her life is what matters above all. Not scientific discovery. Not reconnaissance. Not this gaudy army full of lesser beings.

Her intent was to stop only briefly at the S.R.D.I. to gather her belongings, yet, she hovered in her now old office, things packed away easily, sparse as they were. While she certainly hadn't done much in the last conflict, she had still scribbled and written extensively on other matters- mainly the business side of 12th, but still, it counted as work she had done to stabilize the economy as much as she could as a singular person.

With a flick of her wrist, the trash at the end of what used to be her desk caught fire, burning controlled within the metal confines. She's a woman of grandeur, of purpose and some form of theatrics that tell how highly she thinks of herself. So, it was inevitable that she'd toss page after crisp or mangled page of documentation into the little fire. She only had a few moments to toss what she most deemed worth burning before the fire alarm sounded, sending the division's designated firefighters scrambling to find which section had caught flame. They didn't have sprinkler systems down here- Far too dangerous for their machines to risk, so rather than panicking to make her leave, Shibuya gracefully took her box of things and walked calmly to the elevator.

It was a long, slow walk out to the 31st district of Rukongai, but it's one she made nonetheless. Enjoys the far less restricting atmosphere, how clear she felt now that she no longer had to multitask every little thing surrounding the 12th, no longer had to risk her life for the 'Good of the Seireitei'.

Once she arrived home, locked safely behind the towering walls of the Harai estate, she sat at her prior workstation. The one laid bare in the living room of her abode, muted light casted across the shadowed floor, reminding her of what she took from herself in that very room hundreds of years ago. The one thing that should have mattered to her, rather than her own selfish hunting for yet more power and influence.

Family.

Perhaps she should write Tarou.
​

---

​

 

[Game Master]

TEN DAYS LATER

​

 

[Hyoroshi Iwamura]

---

Peace.

A strange thing to have experienced over the past ten days. Hyoroshi knew where it was coming from--and precisely why he was all but alone in this perception. It was not the type of peace to come after a great, well-earned accomplishment, that jovial boundlessness that swells the soul with arrogance by saying you can do anything now. Nor was it the type of peace to come at the end of everything, when all the work's been done as best it could; that one instant where the soul and those coming after it are all gripping the same torch. These concepts, or rather these transcendental goals, were honorable. Desirable, virtuous even. Shizukana would have been delighted with such aims. Yuichiro would have heartily approved.

Failures. Gone.

It was peace of alignment, and with it, the ability to lock eyes with his self currently impaled into the earthen floor. The verdant trees of the Rukongai's Junrinan district had been reduced to stumps for several miles around; soot and blackened flora stained the sun-lit ground. Hyoroshi's palms gripped their respective knee, his arms tense in their partially bent state. In his mind and on the metallic sheen of his sealed Zanpakuto, the conclusion of the fight against Captain Itaku replayed in his mind for the sixth, maybe seventh time--once more up until Taro Date's killing swing.

Hyoroshi brought his right palm to his left outer quadricep. The fur there was particularly uneven, still growing back, bearing the final moment of that incident. He had glanced at the silhouette of Taro in the distance, the whiplash of unintentional friendly fire and supposed death giving even him pause.

Shnnk. The blade sheathed. A warning. An acknowledgement.

Like a blossoming flower Itaku separated along the vertical axis, innards and blood spilling out with gut-curdling squelches and slaps. Both halves hit the ground, reduced to hunks of meat. Hyoroshi lowered his blades and, with little more than a flicker of intent, returned Kibakigane to his sealed state.

Taro Date's verbal accosting was heard but not processed; wholly unnecessary and surprisingly wasteful, Hyoroshi had mused, considering the Captain's ruthless efficiency.

Yet, as the remnants of Itaku's Bankai dissipated into nothingness and the moon's cold glow illuminated the scene's carnage, Hyoroshi felt a surge that stretched his face.

---

​

---

"Good to meet you at last, sir."​

Sat now before his silent Zanpakuto, Hyoroshi bore a cold glint in his eye. With captains gone, political moves executed and most pieces on the board in disarray, Hyoroshi could have even called himself sanguine. There were no more false pretenses, no more notions of grandeur, no more cowardice. He knew the scythe that embraced his throat in biting-cold steel--it had been there from the moment of his birth, as his father had long proclaimed.

For the new Third Seat of the Eleventh Division, he simply was. This was good enough.

His ears suddenly twitched and his eyes flicked to the side. Sandaled footsteps rustled the grass.

"Kuwashii."​

 

[Adonai]

---

The debriefing with Central 46 was a true hell as question after question was thrown at the trio for how they managed to track down Elk and come to understand what he had taken. These questions came down on them in individual sessions, in pairs and at times when all three were in the room. It was more of an interrogation than a debrief, they were never even given a thank you for ridding the Seireitei of a traitor. Instead of praise they were met with political shackles, warnings and even threats. Dealing with Elk was a delicate matter due to the nature of his Zanpakuto and the Hogyoku, both of which were confiscated by Central 46.

They were threatened into silence, to never speak of the matter again, not even amongst the three of them. If news had ever gotten out about what Elk had taken the political landscape and public perception would have been in more than just dire straits. The fact a Shihoin had defected coupled with the Shihoin within the Seireitei potentially committing subterfuge with the former Commander’s lack of action and the head of the clan not able to weed out a single traitor in their own family. All of this did not bode well and could have looked like another attempted takeover from one of the Great Clans.

The Hogyoku is another matter all on its own, a relic of immense power whose full purpose remains unrealized due to the original creator dying before detailing it in words or writing. Because of its inert nature it was well guarded but apparently not as guarded as it should have been. Central 46 then let the trio in on a secret, that none of this will be relayed to Zero Division, it cannot reach their ears. The traitor, the Shihoin speculation, the Hogyoku, none of it. The judges let them know that if they spoke on the matter further they would be "dealt with”. No further elaboration was given on what that exactly meant and while she cannot speak for the other two Kuwashii most certainly assumed it meant death.

This ordeal lasted around seven days, long enough for Kuwashii to never want to see the Central Seireitei again, or at least for a good long while. Returning to her duties in Ninth, with the absence of her Captain, she could only continue on as she was. Patrols, hunting down defectors within the Soul Society who left their station. On this particular day she was alerted to one Hyoroshi Iwamura going beyond the gates and out into the Rukongai. She could only roll her eyes because this would take top priority as he is now a part of the Eleventh Division. Taro’s displeasure for those not being present at the barracks is well known and is a headache for Ninth to deal with.

If Taro is left to fetch his own men they will more than likely be killed and left to rot in the Rukongai which is not ideal as he does not take their Zanpakuto or body with him aftwards. Looters aside, any rogue scientific minds out in the Rukongai could pose a problem if they are left with a Shinigami body to pick at.

Treading through grass Kuwashii looks dejected and annoyed having to go fetch Hyoroshi just to prevent an incident. Thankfully it seems like Taro is distracted with sparing so he probably hasn’t noticed his Third Seat being missing, yet. She is acknowledged by the beastman and she returns the acknowledgement.
​

”We are not on familiar terms, Third Seat Iwamura, I would appreciate you not using my first name so casually. That aside, you are to return to the Seireitei immediately, preferably before your Captain finishes his sparring session. He creates more work for my division when we have to go collect stragglers from his division specifically.”​

She stands there, silent for the moment and suddenly her tone changes.
​

”Third Seat Iwamura, I propose a challenge to you. I want to see which of our Zanpakuto are stronger. I have a goal and I must achieve it by all means to satisfy myself. The goal is to have the strongest fire based Zanpakuto in the Soul Society. I can only achieve this by actively fighting and defeating other wielders of Fire Zanpakuto.”​

She draws her blade, seemingly giving him no room to disagree or decline.
​

”Rules are simple: No Kido, if we can help it, no Hakuda either. Zanjutsu and Shunpo are allowed and obviously our Zanpakuto abilities. Decline my challenge and you submit and agree my Zanpakuto is superior to yours. Accept and we begin right away. What is your response?”​

There is a venomous undercut to how she speaks, as if she has spent too much time around the Date. Kisho’s influence is apparent here in every way. Words like “submit” and “superior” being used so casually along with the tone of not giving him much choice in the matter. Anyone else would have proposed this as a friendly challenge, a chance for both parties to grow but Kuwashii’s intent and tone make it seem one sided. There is no comradery in this potential match, she has a goal in mind and she doesn’t care who she has to trample to achieve it.

---

​

 

[Hyoroshi Iwamura]

---

Iwamura blinked once at her. His placid expression held steady as his eyes searched her face, as if looking in the mirror for something he hadn't seen before.

"Forgive me, Fifth Seat Hakunetsu," Iwamura rumbled as he rose with an exhale. "Though in my defense, us in Eleventh are expected to be training or working. A brief change of scenery is all this is." Iwamura swept a hand across the ashen ground and charred tree-stumps--the rest of each tree nowhere to be seen. All incinerated to dust across hundreds of yards.

Iwamura stepped over and plucked his Zanpakuto from the ground. His gaze dropped to the sheen of the blade, and as a finger and thumb worked the dirt particles off its end; another rumble-like sound, contemplative in pitch, quaked his chest.

"They're getting to you too, huh, Fifth Seat." The statement was exactly that--a declaration of objective fact, an observation of the inevitable coming to pass. By the simple nature of their differing roles and ambitions over the years, Iwamura interacted little with Kuwashii and knew even less. It seemed now that may not be changing, at least in the short term. Yet his mind crystalized a distinct moment, ten years prior, examining the uppity yet earnest girl that had once visited the Fifth Division.

"Alright. I'll try my best to avoid Hakuda."

The slightest of grins lifted Iwamura's lips. Over the past ten years it seemed Iwamura had changed the least among the notable Shinigami. Yet...

"Before we begin, I would like your opinion on something, if you do not mind."

Iwamura lowered his blade and raised his face to Kuwashii's, his gaze genuinely inquisitive. He began to stride, arcing continuously, Shihakusho pushing and straining between his massive form and the gusting air curving behind him. He was circling her.

"My Zanpakuto likes to talk, constantly. Usually in bemusement of something."

Iwamura curved behind Kuwashii.

"Not anymore. Since dealing with Itaku ten days ago, he has not said a word. Nothing."

He finished the first circle.

"I can still release and use him like normal, hence our surroundings. I do not sense discord, nor anger. Just a strange sense of calm."

Again, he passed behind her.

"But when I visited him before bed, two nights ago, he simply...stared, in his seat. He wouldn't answer me, but his eyes never left me. He did that last week as well."

Iwamura stopped at the end of the second circle, standing back where he'd started.

"He was grinning. Not maliciously. It seems, maybe, he is waiting for something. What do you think could be happening?"

Hyoroshi stood and watched, listening to what Kuwashii might have had to say--before vanishing the moment she finished with a sharp whirr.

"Very well, then!"

Iwamura was behind her, mid-swing in a diagonal up-cutting motion, aiming right for her spine.

---

​

---

 

[Adonai]

---

His comment about “them getting to her”, she had a vague idea about what he meant but he could never know the truth in its entirety. The training she endured, the burns and scars that lay hidden beneath her Shihakusho and even her heavily burned face. To say “they” were getting to her is an understatement, she had been broken down years ago and is in a process of rebuilding herself. In whose image? Only time will tell.
​

"Before we begin, I would like your opinion on something, if you do not mind."​

She nods, agreeing to hear him out, although she doesn’t move from her spot, blade in hand, as he began circling her and talking. Was he stalling to look for an opening in her defenses or was he truly seeking her opinion on something? He prattles on about his Zanpakuto, it seems the intentions of his Zanpakuto are not being heard or its desires are probably not being met. That’s all she can truly glean from it as every spirit is different in its own way, some hand out their powers willingly, others withhold them, and some maybe even grow with their wielder and discover their power at the same time. Zōge-iro is the type to withhold its power from Kuwashii, it wanted her to grow as a Shinigami, find her purpose, her drive and goal before handing over its power to her.

What was the goal? Power, pure and simple. She seeks strength above all else, enough power to make people stop and listen when she speaks, to make people second guess themselves before being rude towards her or throwing some crude nickname her way. Power to help, power to save those who need it, power to kill, and power for the sake of power. If this girl was born as a noble she may have tried to get her hands on an artifact to expedite the process of gaining said power.
​

"He was grinning. Not maliciously. It seems, maybe, he is waiting for something. What do you think could be happening?"​

He stops in front of her again with the question finally posed to her. The heat in the area was picking up, maybe it is just Kuwashii or maybe it's both of their Reiatsu rising bit by bit. In either case, this area is about to become inhospitable to those who cannot withstand it.
​

"Either this is a question you already have the answer to and you are telling me it just so you can show off, or you are seeking a genuine opinion. To answer you directly, I do not know, everyone’s Zanpakuto is different. If mine was just sitting there, not responding to me, it's because he is giving me the silent treatment. Mostly because I- well, for reasons you don’t need to know.”​

After she spoke he vanished, however Kuwashii had turned, a brief crazed look in her eyes and sword already swinging as if she was reacting to something much faster than Hyoroshi and mentally she was. Their blades clash and much to the wolf-man’s surprise she was able to clash and hold his blade where it was with strength he probably didn’t expect her to have.

Years of Suffering
​

"Former Second Division as well? Doing something so corny as striking at my back? Slow, much too slow to be attacking me like that.”​

She breaks the bind, leaping back from him and he may feel the fur between his brow shift apart like a crisp breeze had wafted between them. She stares at Hyoroshi but she seems like she is looking at someone else, as if they are standing in his place instead. She flourishes her blade once then twice, blades of grass move and then fly up around her within a three feet radius, her personal space. Blades of grass are severed from the ground on the first flourish, the second cuts those hovering blades in half. She doesn’t make a move towards Hyoroshi, perhaps she is trying to feel him out before going on the offensive herself.
​

"Care to try that again? Or are you going to keep wasting my time with petty surprise and blitz attacks?”​

There it is again, a condescending tone of voice. It is a tone she didn’t get to use when investigating the Elk case as there were other variables applying stress to her mind. But here, when there is nothing else to worry about but the fight, it gets to flourish, just like her blade.

---

​

 

[Hyoroshi Iwamura]

---

Hyoroshi yanked himself away from Kuwashii in the same moment; the heels of his steel boots, the last survivors of Shizukana Kurayami, shoved into the dirt as he landed. His gaze, half-lidded, perused the aggression in Kuwashii's movements and rebukes. Peacock theatrics, he thought. Nothing more than exhaust barking from the back of a Human World automobile. Yet, for a moment, Hyoroshi remained where he stood, his Zanpakuto centered on his torso and aimed against Kuwashii. He squinted.

Through the dark smog of Kuwashii's exhaust, Iwamura could discern the silhouette of something looming around her--her engine, several stories tall and wide, its pistons steadily pumping with the energy of a star.

"I'd come up with something more creative if I wanted to show off," Iwamura responded with a placid gaze. "But thanks for trying. It confirms what I already suspected would be inconclusive."

He bent at the knees a few degrees and inched his feet further apart. His lips parted into a small, baring grin; away from the Seireitei, away from the stageplay, a violent pendulum swing was careening his demeanor in the opposite direction.

"Sorry for wasting your precious time."

Hyoroshi thrust off the ground and rushed straight-on, faster than what he'd displayed at the end of the Arrancar Invasion, barely more than a blur--and then he was on Kuwashii. One foot slammed into ground with enough force to sprout cracks across the soil and visibly sag the floor between them; he was already turned away from her, the butt of his sword aiming in her direction.

Onibi.

Hyoroshi drove forward the end of his sword until his arm formed a right angle. A bloodthirsty cannon of sheer power, cylindrical in shape with the diameter of a basketball, punched through the air itself. Kuwashii could feel the pure, monstrous force of the attack--as it passed centimeters away from her midsection.

A fakeout.

Ryōdan.

Hyoroshi planted his second hand on the hilt of his blade, rotated the sword right-side-up and diagonally swung with the full force of his titanic strength. A concussive blast of force and energy shattered any semblance of tranquility in the District as a geyser of soot and debris climbed into the sky, bathing the duo and much of the partially destroyed forest in opaque darkness. Regardless of his effectiveness Iwamura refused to take chances; he pushed backwards off the ground and broke past the perimeter of still-billowing dust, knowing in both heart and ever-scanning mind that this woman would not be sent into defeat this quickly.​

---

 

[Adonai]

---

The flourishing of her blade was not merely tricks, it was a demonstration of skill. A show of fluidity of her blade and her speed. She has been training to kill someone stronger than her for ten years and during those ten years they have been training her and influencing her mind, in what most would consider to be a negative direction. Speed was not Hyoroshi’s forte but strength certainly was and where there is strength there must certainly be durability. But there are ways to chip away at giants, there always are. This young woman has spent her entire life punching up, always fighting those stronger than herself and always approaching each and every fight with the same level of confidence. This fight will be no different.

Though Hyoroshi makes another mistake, two though one takes place before the other. He seemed to disregard the isolated drift of air between his brow, for a warrior to only feel air wafting over an isolated part of their body means something amiss has happened, it also means that Kuwashii is swinging her blade faster than he could track, at least at that particular moment. Blood spurts from this wound between his brow, pouring down and more than likely narrowing his vision to Kuwashii’s form. Then he does the one move she has been training against for the last ten years, the one move her true target uses as a regular method of attack, Onibi.

Powerful, it is definitely powerful. She could never deny that, but it lacks the speed of Kisho’s use of it. Her body shifts out of the way, creating more distance from him than he anticipated and with blood getting in his eyes he may lose sight of her completely before finishing his swing. A concussive force is sent out in front of his attack, uprooting dirt and soot alike into the air. When Hyoroshi observes the scene a “hole” opens up in the dust and there stands Kuwashii, not a spec of soot or dirt on her or around her within the radius of three feet or just shy of one meter. Beside her is the destruction brought about by his heavy Ryodan, a killing blow if she ever saw one, there isn’t a single Hollow that could survive taking on such an attack, possibly hardly any Arrancar unless their Hierro was extremely powerful. But even still, she doubts they would come out unscathed against the Ryodan Hyoroshi unleashed.

She walks forward, closing the distance between herself and Hyoroshi. Yes, she said this isn’t a fight to the death but she wonders if he was holding back on that last attack, maybe his sense of holding back meant not actually trying to hit her with the blade. Needless to say she is impressed with his strength and envious of it at the same time. She sheaths her blade and yet her hostile presence remains, even as she continues closing the distance.

This isn’t a walk of arrogance or confidence, it is a measured approach, she is waiting for something, a threshold to be crossed. By merely approaching she is trying to set off his defenses or maybe even a counter offensive from him. He has witnessed the speed of her swordsmanship, he now has a wound between his brow as proof of it. Letting her get close may be a bad idea, but in this clashing of swords he’ll have to approach her or let her approach eventually.

Step by step, she ebbs ever closer, step by step her heart is like a drum in her chest, bringing the noise of its beat up to her ears and head. This isn’t excitement, it is anticipation, a silent anticipation that has her go silent, no longer exchanging words with Hyoroshi, at least for the time being. She is closer to him now, about seven feet away or two meters.

---

​