Business As Usual? [closed/きょうすけ]

There was something…special about that sword. It had history. Nagisa tilted her head softly to one side, strands of hair falling down, and the urge to hold it intensified until her entire body suddenly tensed and froze as a soft sound echoed through the room. Slowly the woman turned around, meeting the proprietor of this business for the first time - and with it the former Captain Commander.

They were of similar height, albeit there seemed to be a definite weight difference in his favor. He was not bad looking. His hair was as black as hers, a handsome face albeit a bit bland and easily forgettable. The way he held his body though spoke of confidence, and the skill to back it up. However, all of these impressions paled as she looked him in the eye. Those grey eyes seemed like a led sheet that bared the world from even garnering a hint of what he thought. Even now the only thing they were allowed to convey was a soft warning: Don’t touch the sword. I was simple and clear, yet for some unknown reason Nagi dared not pry why.

“Greetings,” she said, bowing once she remembered the full importance of the man she was facing. “I am Chinda Nagisa,” she paused. Let her last name sink in and kept watch for any sign of a reaction. She expected none, would perhaps even have be disappointed in a way if there was one: “And I was hoping to have tea with Tsukimiya Kyousuke.”

Nagisa could feel her heart beat in her chest. Now the time to get to know the man that had changed her Kiriko so fundamentally had finally come. Perhaps if she understood him…or if he liked her…would that aid her in growing closer to her beloved sister yet again?

303/50=6; 27

‘Tea sounds nice.’

Nagisa gave a sigh of relief, and it was only then that she noticed that she had held her breath. Had the anxiety that the man who had taken such a keen interest in her sister would simply send her away been that strong? Had the fear of being dismissed by him just like Kiriko had done been that great? Perhaps. After all, there was much on the line for Nagisa. If this man had been crucial to her development, then he might just be vital to hers. Moreover, he was more than a mere Shinigami. He was Kyousuke Tsukimiya. The Swordbreaker. The Captain. The Commander. Even now that he was in retirement, why should he take the time out of his day to talk to a lowly Shinigami such as herself.

No, she chided herself. I have not come here to be submissive and afraid. I came to get answers.

She fixed her gaze on the man with the half-smile and watched as he rounded the counter. His steps were fluid and of a feline grace – retirement or not, this was a sword that had not dulled. Sitting down on the high chair Nagisa did her best to look seasoned and experienced – until there was an offer she could not refuse.

“I do!”

Old habits die hard, and having repeatedly fought of starvation the younger Chinda never let a chance for food slip by.

“I- I mean, I will gladly have some food. After all, who would have thought that a former Commander would eventually own a restaurant?”

The blue eye wandered through the room as Tsukimiya set to work. Looking left and right she was so engrossed in trying to spy something – anything – that would tell her something about the man that she almost missed his question. “

Sushi,” she replied without looking at him. “I have little talent for western cuisine, but amongst the graduates from my year I am quite famous for my Sushi.”

There was no hubris in her voice as she stated that; it sounded more like she was repeating a comment she had grown weary of hearing.

“How may I address you?” Nagisa inquired and received a cup of tea with a thankful nod. Brushing strands of hair out of her face she continued: “Tsukimiya-taichou? Swordbreaker-san?”

She inhaled the aroma. It was strong, yet invitingly so; had nothing in common with the bitter black leaf-juice that the Lightbringer kept besides his desk.

“My reasons for coming here are of personal nature. It has nothing to do with Soul Society, albeit it is about my sister. If you have no interest in conversation, I understand, however,” she looked up. Stared into his grey eyes and tried to find the hint of a person in the vast emptiness. “I came here because I want to ask you to tell me about Kiriko.”

“Please tell me everything, especially the small details. What was she like when you got to know her? How did she become your lieutenant? What kind of person did you see her become?”

Nagisa hesitated to say more. On the one hand she was the one asking for a favor, so giving the man across from her a complete explanation as to her reasons would be fair. On the other hand though she had made it clear that her reasons for coming were of personal nature. Would he pry her for details?

Heaven forbid it be easy for once.

577/50=11;38

Ooc: I tried to structure my post differently. Feels weird. If it still feels weird when I look at it again I’ll change the layout.

Graduated from Japanese cuisine?!

Nagisa rolled those words over in her mouth, wasn’t quite sure whether she liked the taste. The way Kyousuke spoke gave her the impression that their traditional cooking wasn’t good enough. Pah! Those were the words of someone who clearly had never had to go hungry. Nor did he know appreciation for what was good in life. Nagisa’s opinion of the restaurant sunk. “Sushi is beauty in simplicity,” she mumbled into her scarf and leaned sideways to catch a look at what was being prepared. Dumplings?

Why would you not like such a nickname?

The question burned on Nagi’s tongue but she caught it before she could reveal herself as too inquisitive. Lightbringer, Swordbreaker, Flash God. These all were sobriquets that had made their wielders renown for great skill and achievements, often not only amongst the Shinigami, but in the other realms as well. Nagisa would kill to become famous in such a way. Perhaps then people would stop looking at her as Chinda Nagisa and start seeing her as Chinda Nagisa. She paused for a moment. What was it Notch and Nebula had called her? Smiling Blade? The young woman mulled it over.

“Kyo-u-su-ke. What Kanji do you use for that name?”

Nagisa was not surprised that Tsukimiya had never heard of her. Few had. “Yeah,” she said in a low voice, trailing the markings of the wooden bar with her eye. “I get that a lot.” At times the Chinda wondered whether her older sister would have reacted differently if it not Nagi but someone else had come to Seireitei.

And there it was. The first comment the famous Captain made about her sister. It was a comparison too and one that immediately had the younger sister wondering if she too should have declined it. Nagisa resisted the urge to bite her lip. I am not her. For better or worse.

What followed though was of remarkable interest to the Chinda. Previously she had thought that her beloved sister had become the woman she was today – cold, calculating, callous and obsessed with rules – under the direct influence if not tutelage of Kyousuke. The picture he painted though made it seem as if she had already been that way. Peculiar. The latter half of his reply had her raise an eyebrow though. She had heard many stories about this man, but none of them had included or even implied a mischievous nature that would give Kiriko a hard time.

“Describe her struggle to me, please. How did she react, what did she do to find her balance?” Nagisa looked around as if the correct words to describe what she felt were just lying about. “What is it she would do.” Somewhat frustrated with herself the woman brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes in irritation. 

A bowl was placed before her and for a moment Nagi looked left and right to spy the chopsticks, before realizing that they would be using western cutlery. Bringing the bowl closer to her face the young woman sniffed twice that made it very clear that she knew her way around the kitchen and yet was mildly suspicious of what had been served. Its smell was fairly unspecific, albeit Nagisa could tell with a strange security that this was food of good quality. She poked her fork into one, blew, bit. Not bad.

Being busy with the food however had left her open for a question that was bound to come sooner or later. “Well,” she began, contemplating her next words. “One could say that…” Somehow Drunk-Nagi was always better at talking about feelings than Sober-Nagi. All Nagis together though paused for a moment. What was the purpose for this meeting? Was it not to learn more about Kiriko? And perhaps even to get some tips from someone who was far wiser and experienced than her?

Nagisa looked up. “For some reason Kiriko and I don’t get along. Which is startlingly strange to me, because before she left she…and I.”A pause: “Things were different.” She continued to eat as she talked, gaze fixed on the food as she shared her memories. “Kiriko and I come from a place far, far away from Seireitei. A place where it’s always cold and you’re always hungry. One day Kiriko left. I was very young then, but about six years ago I followed. I came to the Gotei not knowing what to expect – can you imagine how surprised I was to learn that my sister had risen to the rank of Vice- Captain in record time? Or when she started being allowed to wear the Haori herself?”

A small sigh stole its way out of her heart. “I was so proud. Until then I had always wondered why Kiriko had never come back. Never turned around. But when I saw what kind of life she had built for herself I could hardly blame her. And yet I…I…” She blinked. Surely it was the steam of the hot noodles that had gotten into her eyes. “I just wanted to be part of it again.” A wry smile. “I know it’s a selfish and childish desire, but those were my motivations.”

Are.

“I knew that I couldn’t merely walk up to her and expect things to be the same. Kiriko has always been a person whose love you had to earn.” The young woman violently speared more tortellini. “So I set out to do just that. I finished the academy, joined a division, achieved Bankai – but no matter what I do it’s never enough.” The fork fell out of her hand and back into the bowl. Nagisa seemed crestfallen.

“I’ve met her twice – thrice? - since I came to Seireitei. And each time she told me to go to home. That I was not her sister and a shame to the Chinda name.” It’s not fair. All I wanted was to have her back in my life. But she keeps pushing me away. The tortellini were no longer steaming, but Nagisa could tell that her eyes were still watery. “How shameful,” she whispered and wiped at her face with her wide sleeves. “I didn’t come here to show this face.”

Why do you leave out the best part of the story though?

SHUT your mouth before I do it. The Farseer’s interruption had been a violent explosion, one that caused Nagisa to straighten up in her chair.

O? You don’t like those memories either? Strange. I could have sworn your relished what came out of it…

Thin ice. Nagisa could sense that two parts of her soul were about to clash violently, but all she could was sit there with a sickening feeling in her heart and stomach.

The Chinda reached for the tea and emptied her cup. Focus on the issue at hand. Deal with this another time.

“I suppose that I came here is precisely one of the reasons why Kiriko won’t talk to me, isn’t it?”

1203/50= 24; 62

As Kyousuke explained the characters Nagisa couldn’t help but draw them absentmindedly on the table counter with her finger. Having learned reading and writing at a late age the visualization helped her remember and learn the kanji of which there were way too many. Most of them had multiple meanings too, a fact that probably delighted others who could form beautiful gambits with them, but for Nagisa, who had no kanji for her first name, it was a chore. The irony of putting ‘helpful’ into the name of a man like the Swordbreaker was not lost on the younger Chinda. However, at the same time the slim hope was born that it was a good omen for their conversation.

“It’s too easy to miss me in the shadow,” she swirled the rest of her tea once or twice. That came to no surprise. After all, Nagisa was always the first one to sing her sisters praise, yet at the same time she was starting to feel restless about that as well. What in the world did it take to escape and step into the light!? Or rather, to become that light.

Before Nagisa had come to the restaurant in the eight district she had had little idea as to who the true Kyousuke is. She still didn’t know, but by now she had to say that it was a man who smiled a lot and knew how to value food. Odd. She would not have thought a man of his reputation to be this lighthearted. Perhaps part of what had thrown Kiriko off?

“How did you get promoted?” the questions rolled off her tongue smoothly and before the woman could truly notice. “And what was on the paper?”

The records about the Swordbreaker where unclear as to what he had done in the years prior to his ascension to captaincy of the second. There were bits of information that alluded to time spent in different divisions, but no matter what the Chinda had done, there always seemed to be a gap. The pieces didn’t fit smoothly and somehow that bothered Nagisa – now was the good opportunity to complete the jigsaw.

The capacity to lead? That was exactly what Captain Jasper said he wanted to see from her. That was the true motivation for the mission she was to embark on. Nagisa leaned her head from one side to the other. Perhaps Kiriko and her weren’t so different after all? For the fraction of a second a crocked smile stole its way across her face.

“I would never presume to know you,” Nagisa said without hesitation and while staring straight at Kyousuke. “You got a handsome face, but one that is not used to emotions. Almost as if it didn’t know how to truly feel them.” She fixed a strand of her behind her ear, only to have it fall down immediately again. “I hope my directness does not offend you, but you strike me as the kind of character in novels that has grown used to showing different faces to different people and somewhere along the way lost his own.”

She spun the fork through her fingers while making a face that made it very clear that she was thinking hard about something. “You’re the kind of person that can teach me something new every day, and even if we spent a century together I would still not grow weary of you. However, I also don’t think that I would ever get to know you.” She pushed the empty bowl away from her. “Not unless you would want me to that is.”

I might not grow weary, but I would always be wary. Nagisa looked at the Swordbreaker and resisted the urge to correct the position of her eye-patch. You frighten me, Kyousuke Tsukimiya. But I am not sure why.

When it came to his suspicion in regards to Kiriko’s behavior Nagisa felt equally ready to laught and despair. Of course they were alike! They were sisters after all! All the more reason for Kiriko to relate and help her, no? After all, that was the right and duty of older siblings. However, it was the latter part that caused the biggest splash in the pond of her soul.

“Afraid of what she has become?”

As strange as that notion sounded, the younger Chinda could immediately feel that there was some truth to it. Or did she perhaps want to feel that way as it was an explanation offered by her sister’s former captain?

“More tea would be really nice.”

She watched the man pour and gave him a thankful nod.

“Say, when was the last time that you have seen Kiriko?”

782/50=15;

Listening to his explanation in regards to the promotion caused two hears to beat in Nagisa’s chest. One that wanted to pry further for she thought to smell that there was more to it than the man led on to believe. The other, however, was a more cautious one. It urged the woman to just leave it at that for – for now. Given what she had just learned she was sure to find others that would be inclined to indulge her. Patience…yes, patience was the key here.

That was if she lived that long. The cautious heart took a worrying beat for a moment as the Swordbreaker laughed aloud. The ominous sensation she had harbored before had returned with that strange sound. The fact that he showed the closest thing to what Nagi could let pass as an honest smile was a good sign though, or not?

“Never mind your old – or perhaps original – face then,” the Chinda replied slowly. “How about the idea of creating a new one? Deciding what you want to be like?” Her mouth moved as if she was rolling the words over with her tongue: “Surely that would be more rewarding than feeling nothing at all, no?” She leaned back for a moment. “Does it not tempt you to explore that venue? Learning how to feel?”

Nagisa fell silent, her blue eye focusing on the man’s face. Was there…could it be? She cocked her head to the side ever so slightly, like a raven who was witnessing something peculiar. Was that weariness in his eyes? Was the great Kyousuke Tsukimiya shackled by the weight of the world like every other soul after all? Surely she was mistaken. But what if she wasn’t?

And for a brief moment she pitied the man.

What if he, who had risen to the highest height of what it meant to be a Shinigami, had never learned how to feel properly and was now emotionally crippled by what he did not understand and could not defeat with raw strength and skill alone? What guff. Surely such petty things were beneath the man who held Kiriko in the palm of his hand.

“I-,” Nagisa started before halting her tongue and listening to the end. Of course Kiriko had changed, who wouldn’t after what she had been through? Yet it wasn’t so much that she had grown or developed character traits, but rather as if she had been replaced by a different person. It almost seemed as if she was the wrong Chinda, and not Nagisa, contrary to what Kiriko had accused her of. Nagi massaged her fingers. “I expected her to change…but I also think, or at least wish to see, pieces of the sister that I love so much. I suppose I find it very hard to accept the idea that all that has driven me has vanished. Or rather: I know with the fleeting and yet stalwart surety that only feelings can provide that what I love is still there. Whether Kiriko likes that or not.”

“I don’t know what happened to her. But I am determined to find out. And before this all is over, I will see her smile again.”

The eye lingered on Kyousuke’s cup for a moment before following his finger. A smile spread her lips. Now things were getting interesting on a whole different level. Intrigued the woman leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter to steeple her fingers as she did so. She looked at the man in silence for a solid minute, weighing options and ideas. “Kiriko doesn’t know you,” she finally said: “She has a glorified image of you. To her you’re the messiah, an ideal. Something people can aspire to but never reach. My sister would declare war on hell if that meant pleasing you, whether she admits it to herself or not.”

“Furthermore…I greatly doubt that you let anyone in there. Least of all yourself.” Another pause: “It is hard to explain for me, but I get the idea that you are more of a visitor within your soul. I imagine it to be a colorless place as you don’t know the emotions that bring light into life.” Nagisa bit her lip in contemplation. “I wonder what your Zanpakutou Spirit looks like. That might be the only color in that inner sanctuary of yours.”

“Kyousuke-san, have you ever loved?”

731/50=14; 91

“I will make a note of that,” the Chinda replied, wondering if that very sentence had already been a lie.

Coming to terms with yourself. That sounded like a deceptively easy thing to do. In truth though it costs wisdom and experience, two things Nagisa was decidedly short on. Peace within seemed to be all but unreachable, an illusion, especially with that new voice in her head.

“It sounds like a very tranquil state of mind. What brought it about?”

He smiled the amused half-smile he had been showing her seemingly ever since she had entered the store. That made Nagisa equally happy and suspicious. She relished this game and his reaction gave her the impression that she was doing well. Yet at the same time she was left to wonder if the things she said weren’t accepted too easily. Kyousuke never commented on whether she was right or wrong. All she had left to draw her conclusions was to read his face and body language. The face and body language of a man she thought to be a skilled liar…

Having spoken her mind the younger Chinda awaited the inevitable reply almost anxiously. She also noted that even though she had mentioned his Spirit and Sanctuary a lot, arguably the most priced parts of a Shinigami’s soul, Tsukimiya had not once so much as glanced towards the sword he had hung up. It was precious to him. That much he had made clear when Nagisa had tried to touch it what was she to make of his reaction?

Before the younger Chinda could spend anymore thought on that matter though, something else entirely hit her. “In l-love with your l-lieutenant?! ,“ she burst out while blinking rapidly to keep her composure. Thoughts raced each other. Was he talking about Kiriko? Unlikely, why would he have left her then? Why would he not have seen her in over a year, especially when Kiriko possessed an almost unhealthy infatuation with him?

Unhealthy infatuation? Like you’re someone to talk, haha.

Repeatedly Tsukimiya had now played with that silver ring on his finger. Surely it was key to something, no? She raised an eyebrow, reminding herself to have a smiling countenance and said: “Really? That is quite…peculiar, in a sense. Would you mind telling me more?”

Aha. A favor for a favor. That’s how the world worked after all. Nagisa licked her lips. Her curiosity was far from sated, yet at the same time she hesitated to reveal what she thought to be a dirty little secret. The woman gnawed her lip. Seryu had told her to be proud of it, to see it as a reminder that she had achieved Bankai. Lyv had called it a medical dysfunction. What would he see it as?

A moment passed before Nagisa slowly reached up to loosen the eye-patch. Carefully she pulled it away, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and only then did she slowly open her eye. Where one was of an icy blue, this twin was blood red. She blinked against the light, rubbed at it once but then was able to meet Tsukimiya’s gaze.

“It used to be blue,” she announced, a story for a story. “Then I fought a woman called Kirishi – Nothing, is what Kiriko addressed her as – and as result…” Nagisa shrugged. “Well, I am not quite sure how things are related, but this is the gist of it: I fought and lost.” Already the woman could feel the familiar headache approach, like every time she told this story. “My memories are a bit hazy about the details…but I think I was caught in some kind of contraption, and I remember a lot of pain. Kiriko was there too.”

She rubbed her left temple gently. “The next thing I know is that I awoke in the arms of friends from the Third who had patched me back together. It looked pretty bleak and it seems the scars are here to stay too…With the help of said friends and the Spirit of my Zanpakutou I was able to piece together a rough chain of events. Apparently I had fainted multiple times, before I was able to break free with the help of my Bankai, and…” She shook her head. “I am sorry, each time I tell this story I get a migraine. Could I have some more tea, please?”

Nagisa leaned her head on one hand and closed her eyes for a moment. Already she could feel the pain subside as quickly as it had come. “Only three people know of the change in color,” she said, opening her eyes once more. “My two friends and you…and until I know more about it I’d prefer to keep it that way.” The younger Chinda contemplated for a moment. Sharing information with Kyousuke seemed like a dangerous game. However, at the same time he might just have the wisdom she needed to make something out of this mess. “Everyone seems to have a different theory about it,” she elaborated. “One says it has to do with my Bankai, the other said it might just be a Kaido gone wrong.”

Nagisa shrugged. “I…I don’t know.”

I am hurt!, the Pale Lady complained playfully. You know full well that it’s a gift of mine!...Besides, red suits you. Better than blue, if you ask me.

914/50=18; 109

Ha, I bet you are good at keeping secrets, Nagisa thought to herself and stared into her freshly filled cup. You’ve probably heard so many that this one won’t weigh on you at all.

The young woman still held the eye-patch in her hand, debated indeed for a moment to put it back on, but then opted against it. The cat had been let out of the bag so there was little point in covering it up now. A different emotion rose in Nagisa though. Something that felt awfully akin to disappointment. She had told her story and gotten precisely no reaction at all. Not even about the names, and that was something she would have previously bet Kyousuke would elaborate on for her.

“So you are implying a part of my soul changed, and that’s why the eye changed?” Nagisa furrowed her brows. “Then perhaps the theory that it is related to achieving Bankai is the way to go after all…”

The Chinda raised her cup, could almost feel the cool tea on her tongue when the Swordbreaker’s next words struck like lightning.

“Besides, red suits you.”

The Chinda dropped the cup, her other hand immediately surging forward in reflex, catching it and preventing a mishap. The damage done though was evident on Nagisa’s face. Both eyes were widened in shock and for a moment she forgot to breathe. How had he known these exact words? Chance? Nagisa rarely believed in chance, even less so when faced with a man of Tsukimiya’s reputation.

Her mouth opened and closed. Opened and closed again as if she were a fish. The question was clearly written all over her face, yet Nagi could not find the words and she hated herself for that. Neither was she as silver tongued as some of her friends, nor able to keep a poker-face like her sister; Kiriko would never have given away her thoughts so easily.  Did he know?

Still blinking in an attempt to clear her face of previous emotions the Chinda motioned towards the ring on the man’s finger – it was his turn for a story after all – yet at the same time she wondered just how deep the rabbit hole was should she be able to muster the courage and ask the question that now truly burned on her mind.

405/50=8; 117

“My lieutenant.”

The way he said that made Nagisa almost cringe. By now she was convinced of two things: for one that the woman whom Kyousuke owed the ring to was not Kiriko. The other was that Tsukimiya clearly enjoyed playing with her. The Chinda reminded herself to make her face look more like this: calm. Emotionless. Like a quiet pond. Perhaps she too should start doing half-smiles? Would that improve her poker-face?

“Satine Purpureo,” the young woman repeated softly. It was a foreigner’s name, and both words tasted like the descriptions of color. Nagisa raised an eyebrow. He had called her perfect, but what did that constitute to a man like him? Surely she must have been skilled otherwise she would not have attracted his attention. Beautiful? Perhaps, but was that even important to Kyousuke? The Chinda tilted her head slightly. He was a man, so Satine had most likely been a looker. Either way the young woman made a note to investigate, if she had been a captain then surely there had to be records of her. Then again, Maya Tanaka had apparently also been quite infamous and there was next to nothing on her.

Neither was there complete information on Kyousuke though, Nagisa furrowed her brows. There was a clear trend of information going missing, destroyed or simply not existing within the Gotei and it was something that worried her. Who was in charge of keeping these records? And who was powerful enough to make them disappear? The Chinda traced the smooth surface of her cup. So far her playing detective had been motivated by jealous and a child’s craving, yet the deeper she dug the more apparent it became that there was a rotten underbelly to the otherwise o so pristine Soul Society.

It frightened her.

It exhilarated her.

Suddenly there was movement on Tsukimiya’s face. Emotions! Loathing – longing?

“Huh,” she said: “So I guess even men like you have regrets.”

His follow up caused a flash of color to rush to Nagisa’s cheeks. “I, ah…” her eyes darted about, eager to look at anything but his face. Finally it was her turn to grimace.

“Not much use in denying it, is there?,” she finally said and tried her best to turn pale again. “To be quite honest, I always had the suspicion that my sister and you were lovers. It’s the way she talks about you, the way she refused for the longest time to actually move into the captain’s office, the way she…she shuts out everybody else. I came here half expecting to…”

Nagisa blinked. Good point. What had she expected? “To…well, to be turned away for once. But more than that perhaps I had thought to find an older and male version of my brooding and secretive sister. A pleasant smile and excellent food had been the last things on my mind.”

“I am sorry to hear that your love was an unrequited one – in a sense I suppose I know what that feels like – but I am wondering: Have you never gone looking for her? You strike me as a man of great determination, surely you would have been able to request some time off? Or…perhaps you did and simply never shared what you found?”

Suddenly there were many questions on her mind, racing each other in an attempt to be the one to get out first.

“Kyousuke-san, why did you leave the Gotei minutes after becoming Captain Commander? And why a restaurant here out of all places? And what do my sister and Satine Purpureo have in common?”

603/50=12; 129

“Fourth?” the word burst out of Nagisa before she could reign herself in. Granted, Kyousuke seemed like a smart one, but never ever would she have thought him to join the bookworm division. He might as well have become a healer then. “What exactly did you enjoy about it?” the woman wondered out loud before chiding herself for the rude interruption. Perhaps he had simply welcomed a change of pace from assassination work? Nobody could hold that against him. 

The Chinda sighed. Even when Tsukimiya was telling a story to answer her question it seemed like little more than that: a story. Just like moonlight was reflected sunlight, it seemed that like all he said and ever would say passed through a certain lens that diluted the important parts that he might as well have filtered the information purposefully. Perhaps an aftereffect from being head of the most secretive division? Or maybe just a character trait of his? Either way Nagisa felt that she was told just enough for him to feel like he upheld his end of the trait without giving her much that was useful.

To be fair, there is a lot to go off about…perhaps he just simply expects me to put the work in myself.

“You faked your death? And defected, ending up making friends in Hueco Mundo?” The Chinda could hardly believe what she was hearing. Was this not the war-hero of the Invasion of Las Noches? “ She blinked, disbelief in her eyes as she repeated the words in an attempt to fathom their depths. “How did they make someone like you a Captain then? And not just any, one that has access to all the secrets and inner workings of Seireitei nonetheless?”  There was neither rudeness nor reproach in her voice, just startling bewilderment on her face.

“Artix von Creg? He used to be Captain of the Fifth, right?” she blinked: “Are you sure he made an appearance again? I think to the majority of the people he is still lost, vanished.”  Myself included.

There was a sense of longing or yearning in the man’s eyes as he glanced into the distance, as if in the far off he might just spy his lost lover walk by. It was touching and a surprising display of emotions. Nagisa was as if she witnessed something honest and precious. Was this how you were supposed to look at a person you loved? The young woman nodded as Tsukimiya touched his heart. She knew very well how it felt like to be torn between head and heart.

What about their looks!? – that was what Nagisa wanted to throw in as Kyousuke compared the two women he had spent parts of his life with, yet at the same time it felt childish to do so. Or rather even childisher, for main motivator of her coming here today was an unrequited love to her older sister. She swallowed the remark for now, confident that she would solve this puzzle on her own.

“Death…”

My, my, what a bleak statement coming from a man like him. commented the Pale Lady, prompting the Farseer to reply: I don’t think he is lying though,

To be told to not be material for the Second Division by yet another captain hurt more than the young woman wanted to admit at first. She tried to overplay it with a laugh. “Ahh…well, my sister indeed refused to admit me into the Second Division. After that my motivation to join a division was purely motivated by the opportunities it would hold. Originally I had considered applying for the first – training under the Flash God himself was something that really intrigued me. Sadly, hailing from my poor background, I never enjoyed much formal education and thus didn’t have much confidence that I would pass their curriculum. I always do well on the physical part, but I am still learning a lot about everything else each day.”

“The idea of rules and keeping the peace appealed to me as well. I know full well that I don’t know how the world works and as such following a code dreamt up by souls multiple decades, if not millennia, older than me seemed like a welcome alternative to thinking myself.” Whether she still thought so or not, the woman left deliberately open.

“I opted for the Fifth in the end – but not because of my skill with the blade, no. Up until recently Captain Aizawa had only been lieutenant Aizawa, yet that he would move to take up the mantle had been obvious even before I handed in my application. In return that meant that a vice slot would open up, and considering that Kiriko wouldn’t take me but all the other positions I desired were full, it seemed like the fastest way to a promotion would be through the Fifth.”  Nagisa shrugged: “If I learned one thing it is that my sister values strength and skill. What better way to force her to acknowledge me than by making lieutenant as fast as she did?” 

“Kyousuke-san, you sound so tired when you speak of the Gotei, yet you had them in the palm of your hand. Why didn’t you change them? You’re determination is fabled, surely you could have. And that you want them to change is evident as well…” She tilted her head slightly: “Then why didn’t you?” Too jaded?

903/50=18; 147