Delayed Transfer [Closed]

Kiriko looked up from her paperwork at the knock on her door. Today had been rather slow, as if the downpour outside was keeping the more rambunctious denizens of the world under-wraps or hiding away to wait out the rain. She knew that was not the case, as the weather of Seireitei had never been an indicator of the weather in the rest of the realms, let alone all of Soul Society. Even so, with the pitter patter filtering through her window and the lethargy of a swiftly shrinking paper trail Kiriko almost imagined that she might get some time this afternoon to pursue her own secret projects. There was much to keep up on, and even more to watch over. But she was used to this type of regulation having done it all as the Lieutenant of the Second. The one thing Kiriko hadn't been prepared for when becoming Captain was the lack of free time. It wasn't just that her workload had increased, even though it had, it was more that she now had duties centered on inter-divisional cooperation instead of just watching over her own subordinates.
 
The new responsibilities left her mind buzzing at all hours of the day as Kiriko plotted and planned her way to the top. She refused to let Tsukimiya-taichou's work go to waste and she was determined to lead the Second to the prestige that they all deserved. The Karakura Invasion was regrettable, more so Sakamoto's betrayal, but even under such distress Kiriko was already thinking of ways to take advantage of the turn of events. She and her men alone had a monopoly on the flow of information, and Kiriko herself was perhaps the most knowledgeable Shinigami still around on the subject of Sakamoto Miki. That didn't mean she knew why Sakamoto had changed sides, but it did mean she was well poised to figure it out and lay the credit at the feet of her division.
 
Rubbing the beginnings of a headache away, Kiriko closed the folder in front of her as she called out to the Shinigami who had interrupted her peace and quiet. “You may enter.” She spoke out of rote, her thoughts tumbling around. Minamoto Itsuki, for a soft moment she almost couldn't remember the name. Then it slid into place as the man stepped into her office. A recruit from the Sixth. He had done passably well in the Invasion, had a long history of successful missions if not somewhat mediocre. And all of the sudden after awakening in the hospital from his injuries he had seen fit to apply to transfer to the Second. Waving towards a spot in front of her desk where he could stand, she allowed her eyes to take in what paper and reports alone could not tell her.
 
If she was correct in recalling, this was the youngest son of the Third Division's Lieutenant. Kiriko didn't care for lineage in any of the regular senses that plagued Soul Society, but she had always been curious to see how far or close from the tree children and parents of Shinigami were. Letting the silence stretch on, Kiriko continued to stare, piercing Minamoto's body with her eyes as if trying to see through the flesh and into his very soul. She wondered if he would squirm under her scrutiny. Then again, he had seen far worse if the report of his exploits in the Invasion were not exaggerated.
 
Normally she would have held her piece, allowing the silence to develop into a thickening noose around his neck and forcing him to break it in some telling manner. But the boy, man really, was not a fresh recruit from the Academy and deserved a little more decency then that. Instead she placed her hands atop her desk, fingers carefully aligned in a neat circle, and leaned back in her chair. “I appreciate you coming so quickly Minamoto-san. I understand that your injuries were quite substantial. Are you feeling better now?” her tone was soft, but dour nonetheless. Despite the concerned slant of her words there was really no indication that she had meant them in a kind manner.
 
Giving the recruit a moment to collect himself and respond, Kiriko allowed her eyes to rove over his form. The telltale tuck of white at his wrist and collarbone were the most conspicuous signs of damage, but it was really the way that he carried himself and moved that signified to Kiriko just how hurt Minamoto had been. And still was. It was not merely a physical injury, she could discern that from a simple glance. The way that he stepped forward, the way that he stood and tried to hold tall and straight despite an injury to the right side of his abdomen, all of it told a story along with a lingering darkness in the man's eyes. Hmm, until she was sure where it was that that pain was coming from Kiriko would not know if he was of any use to her. A man with a vendetta or a suffering so great he wished to throw his life away was absolutely not the type of trash she needed littering her division. 
 
WC: 870 | GP: 17 | Total GP: 17

She didn't keep him waiting long.
 
He opened the sliding door and walked into her office, trying to keep his steps as measured as possible. That was both because he was trying to make a good impression and show respect to the Captain as well as keep his chest from jarring. Although he could take the pain, having had far worse, he was no glutton for it either. Like any creature with an ounce of sense, he preferred to avoid it when he had to. Hurting himself by being a young idiot was something preventable, thank you very much. Chinda had gestured for him to stand in front of the desk, so he moved swiftly, making sure that he kept from slouching along the way. Even though he would normally relax a touch, he had the feeling that this Captain wouldn't appreciate such a thing.
 
Planting himself on the spot, he did let his shoulders loosen a tad, but not more than that. Turning around, he found himself abruptly meeting the woman's gaze. It was somewhat laserlike in focus, examining him for defects. There was something in it much like a great cat eying potential prey, sizing it up to decide its fate. How many people had she broken under that unnerving stare which brooked no looking away? To do so would be a sign of surrender or of weakness, and Itsuki would have neither. Plus, he was well versed to being around similar stares. The Sixth had its own fill of interrogators, and some of them had looks nearly equal to her own.
 
So instead, he looked back with little sign of discomfort, no smile or frown on his face. A small part of him, under the confidence and the respectful if blank look back at her, began to stew with anxiety. This wasn't how he had expected this to start, and she was good at that look. The silence stretched on, letting the tension of anticipation fill the room, but he hadn't yet responded before she moved, letting her hands rest upon the desk, and spoke. Even as she had cataloged him, he had been observing her. The way that her eyes had searched his face and body, he was sure that she had seen the bandages...and a great deal more else aside. Things that he could only begin to guess at. She was good at this game, better than he was, but even this brief moment had let him see part of what let her hold the Second together. None of her subordinates would hide anything from her, and the crisp, hard lines from the way she held herself told another story. Respected, and she expected it. Whether she meant her pleasantry or not was another question entirely.
 
How many in her Division feared her wrath?
 
Did he?
 
Itsuki inclined his head slightly at her words, listening to the drumming of the rain on the roof. A few other details about the room slid into place, its organized and cleanliness a subtle hint. “Of course, Chinda-taichou.” He resisted the urge to look down at his arm when she brought up his injuries, instead looking fixedly at a spot just above her eyes when he wasn't looking directly at her. For a moment though, he wasn't quite sure how to respond, but he gave a shrug after the small pause, “They were, although less severe than some I've had in the past. I'm sure that the Third would prefer if I stayed, but I know enough of Kaido to take care of complications that might crop up now. Besides, this is no time to be bedridden.”
 
There was a slight rustle from Tenshou-ki, and then he heard its voice next to his ear, “By which you mean you hated the rest. You need them more often, forced or not.” She was, of course, right. He wasn't lying in bed at the hospital for any good reason, although he had put the time to...some use. With so little to do, unable to move or leave, he had seen no reason to stop training. And if he would be unable to train his body, he would train his mind. Which had led to some long meditation sessions...all too many of which ended with him in his Inner World. Thinking.
 
But the enforced rest was driving him mad, and he'd left as soon as he was able. Which was why he was here, now.
 
Itsuki resisted the urge to hurry this up in some way. If he was right, Chinda-taichou wouldn't take kindly to any attempt to ferret out the next question she wanted to ask. Instead, he simply waited for her to continue. There was a point to this beyond a Captain getting to know a recruit, and he wanted to know why.
 
WC: 803 | GP: 16 | Total: 40

She liked him. It wasn't an immediate reaction, because Kiriko so rarely made split-second emotional decisions. But the slow burn of appreciation had been lit and she only had to wait and see if he would disappoint her or further impress her. There wasn't much to be said for the Minamoto. A solid but frail body, perhaps from coalescence rather then lack of training. A good gaze, but not direct. In fact, she almost felt as if he was purposefully not meeting her eyes, his stare a tiny fraction too high to be complete. He didn't flinch either, or fidget, or angrily demand for her to get to the point. Kiriko expected that out of her men, but to find it so easily in a potential recruit was pleasing. If he had displayed one of those traits she would have already sent him off.
 
But in so many different ways Minamoto Itsuki was proving to be intriguing. And Kiriko liked to have puzzles, despite her proclivities to know everything. It was easy to tell the boy liked control, harder to know why from a first meeting. That was the type of information she enjoyed ferreting out, and the kind of enigma Kiriko so loved. To fully claim her understanding of psychology she had to never stop learning, and it would be a boring day indeed when she found people and their personalities to be trite or common.

Kiriko nearly grinned but instead swallowed the reflexive expression. To the point. Good, she hated playing politics. Besides, he didn't seem bothered by her caustic countenance so she felt no need to reassure him of his answers on his health. “You are quite correct Minamoto-san, now is not the best of times to be recovering from injuries. Soul Society needs all of the soldiers it can get, and the Second needs all of the talent we can find. Let's not beat around the bush any longer then we have to. You have requested a transfer to the Second. I am here to decide if you are a fitting addition to my division,” Kiriko finally did smile, a sharp and cutting expression on her narrow face. This was an all-odds test, and Minamoto better believe she was judging every tiny shift and word that he expressed. “So convince me.”
 
“Why exactly do you think you deserve this chance. What does the Nibantai mean to you and how do you see yourself aiding our duties?” She spoke coldly, nothing in her bearing giving any sign as to whether she really thought him a flea beneath her shoe or a valuable candidate for the Second. It was all the same to her. Testing composure meant more then simply being cruel and expecting the target to hide his pain or fear. Kiriko wasn't like the other divisions. She played mind games because the physical games were far less telling for the line of work that her men engaged in. As much as combat skills played into being a useful pawn it was not the be all end all that most people considered it. Many of her subordinates were incapable of putting up a flawless fight, and she relegated them to duties more in line with their abilities. Assassination after all was the hallmark of the generation before her, and Kiriko's reign would have an entirely different focus if she could write history in the way that she wanted to. 
 
WC: 572 | GP: 11 | Total GP: 28

The recruit watched the Captain carefully, trying to get a read on her. If there was a word to describe her face right now, it was...unfriendly. Perhaps uncaring would be a better one, but there was absolutely no sense to her words or her stance that even hinted at any kind of friendly demeanor. No, this woman was all business, and she'd conduct her business in a way that assumed you had a hard shell to match. If you didn't, she'd pick you apart like a crab, going in straight through the weak points to find soft meat. In this case the soft meat would be secrets, unsuitability, any kind of a hold she could gain over him. That was the immediate impression he had of the Captain as she began to speak.
 
It wasn't that Itsuki didn't like a warmer, friendlier relationship with his Captain. Because this was the first meeting he was being a touch more cautious and careful than he normally would be. If the young Minamoto had to define his weaknesses, he'd have put stubborn right below the top of the list, which was hot-headed. But he lived with a zest for life, with a passion, that might put him at odds with Chinda's more chilled approach. Hopefully she could at least tolerate men in her division that did live with passion, so long as they got their work done and did it well. The typical image of the Second was of a cold man who didn't care at all, which he had to admit was the exact opposite of himself.
 
But he was here anyways. Despite the rumors, despite everything he had heard about the Division and what they did. Five decades to admit to himself that maybe Tenshou-ki had a reason for asking him to transfer to the Second. Stubborn indeed.
 
Her words were sharp and clear, ripping through any more potential pleasantries like a sword through skin and muscle. There was no welcome in her words, no sense even that she wanted him here. She spoke of adding talent, but the look in her eyes was cold. Itsuki had no idea what she really thought, but it did occur to him that this was all likely to be her way of judging recruits. A test of some kind, even if he had no idea what she was testing. The Shinigami couldn't help the small smile that creeped onto his face though. It was probably exactly what she was looking for, but there was no way to stop it. She was challenging him, asking him if he was good enough. Maybe looking for ways under his skin, for the strings that would make him dance to her tune like a puppet on a marionette's talented figners.
 
A flicker of doubt ran through him. Maybe she wasn't. What if she really didn't want him here?
 
Itsuki brushed it aside. Not the time. Not the time, especially because if his acceptance here was conditional on his work, he had ever confidence that he could accomplish tasks that she set before him. His voice rose just slightly as the glint in his eyes brightened just a touch. Testing him was she? He was up for the challenge. And if he wasn't yet, he would reach that point. “I'll answer the second question first.” He couldn't say that he hadn't anticipated this as a possible question, it was easily the most logical one. Itsuki took a single calming breath to steady his words and his thoughts before he spoke again.
 
His eyes fully met those of the Captain. The clash was instantaneous as the impact of those cold eyes tried to bore into his own, but he didn't look away from her. “The Nibantai is precision and efficiency. It is a scalpel, used for any situation that requires careful application of some kind of force. That force could be surveillance, investigation, tracking, or killing something. Its missions are best handled discreetly, without their involvement ever being known beyond the Division itself.” A slightly warmer smile flickered across his face for a moment before it faded back to the one he had had before. “Having been in the Sixth for two and a half centuries, I've had the chance to interact with the Nibantai many times when a situation required a more subtle hand or when matters evolved in such a way that the obvious arm of the law was necessary. They were always professional and excellent at their work.”
 
Which led him back to why he deserved this chance and what he'd do for the Second. Itsuki paused for a moment, his eyes flickering back up to that space on her forehead. Sweet fucking hell her stare was intense. It was a good thing that the young Shinigami didn't make a habit of lying, the idea of hiding the truth from that stare was not a challenge he ever wanted to face. But it made for a good one now, to show her that he wasn't afraid to meet her eyes. Back down they went as he spoke again, “I observe others well and understand their strengths or weaknesses. I am skilled at gathering information, although I was never an interrogator in the Sixth. In a fight I am swift and a skilled swordsman, although I make no claim to be one of the greats.”
 
After strengths would come weaknesses, right? It was only logical, although she could very well surprise him. He couldn't skip ahead though, because he wasn't quite finished explaining why he deserved to serve in the Nibantai. The smile eased itself off of his face as he finished, “I work hard, well, and will always acknowledge my failures. I cannot claim to be the swiftest learner, but I can say that I will never stop trying to improve.  The last thing that I will ever do is slack off.” He gave the slightest of nods to signal that he was done his eyes for the moment fixed on her's. Was any of that what she was looking for? For now he was keeping his fidgeting under control, but he wasn't immune to that tone. Something just off about her, like ice down his spine. It was like he was the frog and she a snake.
 
WC: 1051 | GP: 21 | Total: 61

The trick was to remain perfectly still. To give away nothing and see what was reflected back across the divide. She knew, on some level, that she was tainting the game by adding in the factor of fear. Easier, and better, to remain completely impartial. To become a mirror and give away no clues but that which the other wanted to see. Still Kiriko couldn't stop herself from these little power plays. They were far too amusing to give up entirely.

It was a bit like netting tadpoles. Move slow enough, without disturbing the water, and they never noticed a thing. Recruits, like tadpoles, hardly knew what to look for, let alone what to expect. She had certainly terrorized more then her fair share in the pursuit of perfection and temperance. It said something about her that she took such pride out of toying with the weakest of Shinigami. Those who hadn't yet had enough time to even figure out how to stand up to their peers let alone their Captains. She preferred to think about it from another side, turning the jewel so that the best facet glittered in the sunlight. Training didn't always favor the ready after all.

Minamoto didn't quiver but she could see the beginning of a hint of doubt that was swiftly squashed as he steeled his nerves and squared his shoulders. He knew. Knew that she was playing with him. And instead of submitting like the prey she had believed him to be Minamoto bared his fangs. Not enough that she would need to chastise him for his arrogance, but the gesture was there all the same. A challenge. A call to arms. That knowledge brought about a reaction quite the opposite to irritation. He hadn't played along with her rules. The predictability was shot. Even the quickest tadpole was a boring catch after a while and one had to move on to bigger prey. And wasn't that exciting? But didn't that also say something about her?

Perhaps she just wanted to believe that she wasn't a monster.

He had entered her lair, what a brave boy! But if he wanted to stop playing then she would too. Minamoto was the one who'd thrown off the safeties. Her eyes narrowed, the glare that was her calling card, perhaps even more of a legacy then Shunko, speared into the recruit as he met her gaze full on. She would level with him. As one adult to another.

The vitriol was so sudden and so blistering that Kiriko subconsciously dropped her hand to the blade at her hip, fingers tensing as if expecting a presence in the sword that had been missing for some time. Emptiness was the only resistance. Like always. It hurt that this was becoming a pattern.

“Aa, so you've played at being aware of your surroundings. And you've watched the efficiency of the Nibantai from the sidelines. But let me ask you this, Minamoto-san... You have certainly witnessed a fair amount, but what makes you think you actually understand anything about the Nibantai? Are you so eager to throw away your virtues, your very life, without first asking what we will demand of you? About the sacrifices writ in the contract? Honor. Pride. Glory. Legacy. Friendship. Even love. All of these things are personal traits. They belong to an individual. And because of that they are forfeit to your service. It won't be like choosing a lesser evil on the battlefield, sacrificing a virtue to gain some tangible benefit. We will ask you to willingly set aside your individuality, your past, your future, your everything. All without explanation, without even the guarantee that you will be remembered.”

She spoke and her words were like icy daggers. She wanted to see him bleed. To watch as the eagerness disappeared from eyes and he scrambled for some excuse to escape. She wanted to observe the death of his innocence. To punish him for his surety. Maybe then she would be able to understand her own path. Maybe then she could forgive herself for the choices she had made in his position.

“We do this for one goal. For one dream. A future where no one will even recall what it was the Second used to do. Where the next generation will no longer have a use for those of us who have sacrificed so much and given up everything for the slim possibility of peace.”

“Can you even understand what it is like, Minamoto-san, to have only one good thing left to you? One clean and pure thought? To purge your soul of all the rest, willfully cutting away everything else as unneeded baggage so that what remains is only the useful parts. And to do this, not for yourself, but for people you have never met? People you might never get the chance to meet?”

Seeking to excoriate the naivety from his mind, Kiriko spoke with deadly precision. She held nothing back, no sugar coated lies. Her voice tight as a whip. The PR campaign would have hated her. But it was Kiriko's job to explain exactly what people were signing up for. And sooner or later she would enjoy telling him I told you so. It was your own damn fault if you signed a deal with the devil.

Her anger had been explosive and it was only after speaking that Kiriko felt it subside almost all at once. Oh, she'd already forgotten. In her bitterness she had lost track of who she was speaking to. This was a recruit. He still had time to change his mind. She could give him foresight. The only gift Kiriko had any power to bestow. When she spoke again, her rejoinder was all the more frightening for its tenderness. She wasn't trying to scare him. Or to mess with his mind. She wasn't even trying to dissuade him. And that stark contrast from her earlier theatrics was perhaps all the more striking, and painful. Because she understood the loss she was speaking of, perhaps more then he could even grasp right now. And she knew what she was asking him to give up.

“I wonder, Minamoto-san... If you are capable of sacrificing family, as well as all the rest. We will ask this of you too. The Second has no need for legacies. When you join, you forgo all such ties. You become part of a new family. A collective working towards the same goal. If you cannot do that, then I have no need of you.”

“I will never ask you to remove your emotions, for emotions can be useful weapons. But there is a price for joining us, Minamoto-san. A price that you can never walk away from.”

Service to the Second was all of that and more. She would call on her men to give up every last ounce of themselves. And do it without hesitation. Because in the end their life was worth nothing in comparison to the future. Each and every one of them had to shed every last personal dream in order to find the collective heart. They were all pawns in this game of chess and she was merely the one they entrusted with their lives. They believed she would never sacrifice a man without there being a purpose behind it. Without justification. And that was all the assurance they got in return for cutting away their humanity. It was a heavy weight to bear. Few could stomach the toll. Even less wanted to.

Kiriko was already expecting Minamoto to walk away. She had pressed his weakest point. Family. The price of admission was too high. Soldiers had no need for the kind of complications that Shinigami families brought into the mix. And Minamoto would surely not be able to look at the bigger picture and see where submission to a greater plan might bring about exactly what the world needed. Not at the expense of his filial duty. He could no more give up his family then he could change his surname. And besides, what would his father think? A Minamoto in the Second!

“What do you say, Minamoto-san? Have you changed your mind?”

WC: 1367 | GP: 27 | Total GP: 55

Itsuki hadn't expected the sudden explosion of poison in Kiriko's voice, the sudden passion and scorn ripping through her icy facade like a Raikoho through weak stone. Clearly not as iron clad as she tried to present herself, but her words were like a whip trying to flay the skin off of him. He flinched backward from her words without meaning to, even when he was trying to control himself, and the next moment was filled with both shame and resolve. She wanted to break him, she wanted the exact impulse that rose up through his head like so many frightened children. Apologies and escape. But that impulse was countered by the one that had always won, year after year, decade after decade. Stubborn anger lifted up, sharpening his gaze to counter the one that threatened to flatten him where he stood.
 
It was because of anger that he stood, eyes glittering even as he remained mute before her barrage, mouth a thin line. He could feel Tenshou-ki offer a muted shake of her head in resigned dismay, but there was no way he could back down now. Even if it meant he couldn't enter into the Second, he couldn't simply take that. If this was what Kiriko wanted from her men, then it was true. She would never find it in the young Minamoto.
 
But he'd never make it that easy for her.
 
She spoke of a world where he might not be remembered, where he'd cast aside everything he was for...what? The greater good of the mission? Setting aside individuality was something he could understand, because all Divisions worked something like that. But so much of what else she was saying, he couldn't agree with. Oh yes, he was willing to admit that she had likely reason to believe what she did. But you could be an effective soldier without giving up all that made you yourself. Part of what gave someone strength was because of all of those traits she had mentioned. They could be sacrificed, yes, when the cause was great enough. But not before then. Because those were all part of what made him strong. Not strong like some, like his father or even Kiriko, but he would be far weaker without his passion, his friendship.
 
Could he understand so much of what she talked about? No. He had been fortunate enough, perhaps, to never have to feel that way. And maybe he never would. She was foolish, to think that he would be able to empathize with her on that...or even know if he could do that. It would have to be a test in the moment, wouldn't it?
 
What did she want from him?
 
Itsuki didn't know, but he also wasn't going to back down, foolish although it was. There was a line he wouldn't cross, but he wouldn't betray himself just to crawl into a Division that wasn't right for him. She would either accept him for who he was, or he'd walk back to the Sixth having given it a shot. Stubbornness wouldn't do much good if she wouldn't let him in after all.
 
But right as he thought that...her voice changed. The anger died, ebbing out in both her tone and on her face. It was subtle, the way her face changed, but he noticed it, and his eyes narrowed as it did. They still glowed with his own anger, his spine as straight as his blade, but he tensed even more the moment that anger vanished. Because what came next had no dramatic volume to lend it any importance.
 
It didn't need any.
 
Was it just Itsuki's imagination, or did Kiriko speak from experience? There was a certain...tenderness to her voice that he had heard before, when people spoke from things they knew because they had been there. Had seen it first hand, suffered through it because they had no teacher, and were now trying to warn someone off the path they had walked and bled on. Were he calmer, perhaps he would have listened to the voice of experience. If she weren't running directly counter to his goal, maybe he would have stopped. She might, he knew, have a point.
 
But she had just told him to give up his family, and there was no way in any of the realms that he could possibly walk away from what it meant to him to be a Minamoto.
 
It wasn't the legacy. It wasn't any of the deeds any of them had done. The name, itself, was unimportant. What mattered were the people who bore that name, and what they meant to him. He could no more give that up than he could stop time from moving forward, tick by relentless tick. No matter how long each second lasted, time still progressed.
 
But the worst part was that she expected he'd run away now.
 
For seconds, he said nothing, staring at her. Subconsciously he had leaned forward slightly, his smile lacking any trace of humor. “No, I can't say that I'm sure that I understand the Nibantai, but I never claimed to, Chinda-taichou. After all, I've never been in it.” He may have been polite, but there was a razor's edge to his tone which bespoke of his anger, even if the glint in his eyes did not. Giving everything away, oh yes, but there was no stopping him now. “Because no, I don't understand what it feels like to have only one good thing left to me. Do you expect me to lie? But I doubt that every last one of your men have cut away every last ounce of unnecessary baggage.”
 
He breathed in, eyes locked on the woman he was asking to be his Captain, and there wasn't even a trace of doubt in him that this was the right thing to do. This was how he had lived his life, even as he sought more patience. But nobody had even beaten this out of him. “You ask me to give up my friendship, my pride, love, and my family. Because you think that this will somehow make me a better soldier, able to carry out...what? Every last one of your orders to the letter, to do what must be done? Perhaps because you've seen what happens when people can't put those away for the greater good...let something slide or someone go.” There wasn't even a question that all of those could get in the way of a mission, but he wasn't questioning that. The latter was just a guess, because of the way she spoke from experience. Because that was where her anger was born, as well as the strange softness in her voice.
 
“It's because I love my family that I first learned how to fight. It's because of those bonds that I'm even here, able to talk to you now. If your price is that I have to walk away from my family, even if I could, then you would be getting an inferior recruit.” His voice wasn't confident, it was simply stating a fact. She could either accept that or tell him to get out of the room. A few seconds ticked by as he looked at her, really looked at the sharp woman who was the Captain of the Nibantai.
 
The two would surely clash if he joined the Nibantai. But then, he was no stranger to clashing with others, it hardly prevented him working with them. But she was still worth of respect, even if he didn't agree with her.
 
It was because of that respect that he was willing to grant, even until she proved she didn't earn it, that he spoke again. His voice was a little calmer, but there was still passion there. “Perhaps you think I'm here looking for glory. That I want to be remembered for something, or because I'm here seeking to...bolster my family's name somehow. I'm not here for glory. I don't care if what I've done is never attributed for me, I would never have come to the Nibantai if I did want that.”
 
Itsuki fell silent for a few more seconds, evaluating how much damage he'd just done. Was it right to do? Yes. But was it far less likely to join the Second now? Absolutely. Did he even want to?
 
He had a certain stubborn desire to prove her wrong. That someone could function in the second without giving up his family, his bonds. That those things she demanded he discard to join would make him stronger than if he had thrown them away.
 
But...
 
Itsuki spoke quietly, “If I've proven myself unfit for the Nibantai, I understand. Because I can't voluntarily throw away my family. But if I could just do that on a moment's command, was it even worth telling me to do at all? But I would still like to be considered, Chinda-taichou.”
 
It had taken him this long to take the advice of Tenshou-ki, and he wasn't going to give up now that he'd gone through with it.
 
WC: 1512 | GP: 30 | Total: 91

She watched him tense. Watched the emotions play across his face as his body turned rigid like stone. As his lips pressed tightly together and his eyes narrowed. She could almost see the furious beat of his angered heart, the tap tap tap of his veins as they pumped blood and adrenaline throughout his body. If anyone had ever expected Minamoto Itsuki to grow cowed under duress, this display would surely have shocked them.

He certainly was not a dog to go skulking away when kicked. Nor to turn so eagerly back when a hand was extended. Leaning back into her chair, Kiriko let the silence stretch between them. Let Minamoto collect his thoughts, and bring that burnished anger to bear like a giant shield and sword in both hands. A traditional knight he surely was, fighting for the right to emotion and clinging to history. Not that she could fault him, doing anything else would have told her she was dealing with a sociopath – or at best damaged goods.

It had been wrong of her to lash out at him like that, but it did serve to prove a good point. Kiriko had to walk a very fine line in her business. She needed men who would sacrifice willingly, who would follow her orders no matter what, and who could see the bigger picture. But she did not need men without spines, without their own intellect and willpower, or without some semblance of that spark that made souls human.

Itsuki had just proven himself to fall within both categories, if a bit unevenly. The fierce look on his face was a bit much, as if he expected her to throw him out on his head any moment now. Maybe she deserved that ounce of castigation though, Kiriko had been playing with his emotions a bit too harshly.

“I see...” she spoke quietly, a soft blink breaking the staring contest organically as she pressed her hands into her desk, first forward and then back. “So then, you are saying that these things are the reason that you fight? But not the sole reasons? If you had told me you were here to gain glory for your family and yourself, I indeed would have turned you away. But your explanation is sufficient, Minamoto-san.”

Indeed it was the best mix of passion and clear-headedness. Itsuki had an idealistic streak, she could tell. But you almost had to, to live in this world as it was and keep working through the sludge of everyday life. If he was being honest, and he thought that his emotions were what drove him to make the sacrifices and hard choices – to be able to withstand what she would ask of him, then that was something she could work with. Kiriko wasn't so well off that she didn't need new recruits who could be molded into what she really needed. He had already proven that some small part of himself wanted to be here badly enough that he would risk what she had said coming true.

Was that desperation or foresight? She couldn't tell.

She settled back in her seat, hands flicking at the air. “Do you have any questions then? I will expect you to report in for roll call tomorrow morning at the barracks where you will be assigned your new room and given a training regime until such a time as we can assess your mission capabilities.”

WC: 573 | GP: 11 | Total GP: 66