New Era, A Captain's Meeting

Assemble in the Captain's meeting hall.

Six words. No explanation. Only the seal of the office of the Captain-Commander himself, confirming that this was truly from none other than him. Of course, that seal had enclosed words not of Ine's before, but after the spat with the nobility, it was quite clear that Kenshou was going to be much more discriminate in what he sent out to the Seireitei.

Brows furrowed and lips pursed, the expression Jasper's face formed whenever he felt an almost overwhelming annoyance he could barely suppress, Jasper read the letter over and over again. He looked for something, some secret signal that would reveal what the purpose of this gathering was. The halls Kenshou spoke of had remained unused for a very long time, and now he wanted to occupy them? This was obviously going to be a different sort of meeting, something so large or so secret it had to be discussed in person. Knowing Kenshou, whatever it was, Jasper was certainly going to be adverse to it.

How long had he hated this man for, and in how many different ways? First, as a traitor, as a half-breed mongrel. Second, as an untrustworthy ally. Third, once again a turncoat. And finally, now, as a relic of an era long since passed, standing in his way. It was remarkable how similar their paths had been, but how different they had turned out. Both warriors. Both never the perfect loyalists. Both hollow-blooded. And yet enemies standing at two polar sides of what seemed to be a never-ending struggle that Jasper felt would be impossible to win. When he had wanted to overthrow the corrupt king who had stolen the body of his uncle, or gain the political capital he needed to make any change as a high-ranking member of the Gotei, Kenshou had always stopped him. Not because his vision was greater, or because he was a more suave political operator--anyone in the Gotei could attest to his abrasive personality--but because he was stronger, in the most tangible sense of the world. He was the epitome of the old way, where leaders ruled by force and fear. And everything in Jasper's mind, body, and soul told him this was wrong.

Yet until he decided to step out of the way himself, Kenshou would always be there. Jasper had made attempts to sway the minds of his fellow leaders, but they had always fallen flat. Kiriko and Tokiyo, perhaps the only allies he could have mustered, by all appearances had fled to the side of Kenshou. For now, the man had won. But Jasper, unlike his adversary, could be patient. He knew there would be more opportunities to avail himself of. He simply had to bide his time, quietly putting pieces into place, before he could strike. Perhaps one day, Kenshou's incredulous strength would be his own downfall.

But today would certainly not be that day. Kenshou couldn't get rid of him, not yet, but neither could he do the same. Things had, once again, devolved into a waiting game. Jasper pushed himself out of his seat, taking off his "reading glasses" before slipping on his haori. The soft, white fabric had finally begun to feel snug upon him, slowly becoming almost a second skin. Many great philosophers had warned against becoming too comfortable in the proverbial "captain's chair", yet he felt himself conscious enough of the burdens of power to allow himself this one, small luxury. It wasn't as if people had ever awarded him any.

It was a quick walk to the First Division's command center. Mind clear, body calm, the time passed quickly. As he arrived at the gates, he saw the recruit obviously assigned to greet him. Waving, the young girl bowed as he came within speaking distance, greeting him quite formally. Smiling dryly, he bowed back,against the protocol he had set for his own men. Not my division, not my rules, he thought as the underling led him to the hallowed hall of the Captains. Having arrived first, Jasper was left alone as the girl, having fulfilled her orders, hastily turned around and vacated the area. He turned slightly, looking out the corner of his eye as she walked away. Had he ever been that subservient recruit, wanting to please their superiors in order to rise through the ranks?

He pondered for a few moments, before coming to a conclusion. "No," he thought, "and I never will be."

And alone, he waited.

750

She frowned, a twist of her lips that could never quite express the irritation she felt, gazing out at the two Shinigami who had apparently made it to this little meeting before her. Chinda Kiriko did not like to be shown up, and the Second had a certain reputation that she was loathe to cede to the Fifth, or Soul King help her, the Fourth. Locking her reiatsu down to a faint pinprick, she slid from shadow into shadow, slipping into the Captain's Hall with none the wiser.

The aftereffects of channeling the Shakonmaku had lingered for longer than Kiriko was comfortable with, and while she had forced herself to put up a good front there was still lightning etched into the nerves of her body like ancient runes. Each shift, no matter how carefully made, no matter how softly she displaced her weight, sent rivers of pain radiating outward. Perhaps it was a reminder not to take what she had done lightly, or perhaps it was the fact that the Shakonmaku still resided there, a hot dense spark floating merrily within the confines of her empty chest. Either way, the presence was a different sort of warmth, thrumming and scalding in equal measures.

Not unlike that heart she had so long ago cut out of herself.

For all the good that had done.

Lessons were meant to be painful. Perhaps it was time she learned that and embraced it for the gift it was.

Kiriko hadn't felt feeble in what seemed like ages and today was no different, but there was a hesitation that she couldn't quite mask. A tremor of ghostly agony that swirled and screamed to be heard. To be seen. For now she would remain hidden, conserving herself for the moments to come. She would need strength then, all of it, to do what was necessary and to weather the vagaries of her fellow Captains. If Ine was doing what she thought he was doing, it was a long time in coming. They all needed closure. Leadership. He had promised her his ineptitude had had a plan behind it – not that she had really cared if it had or not, only that he proved himself to be in control. She had made her own promises to that man, and she was not one to go back on a threat of death.

Flicking one long strand of hair back across her shoulder, Kiriko contemplated the two already assembled and found herself impatient for the true meeting to begin. Doubtless there would be useless bickering, Ine playing the fool and driving her anger higher. He couldn't seem to stop for even a second to get serious, not unless he was in a life or death battle or deep in the bottle. And the other Captains, like recalcitrant children, would come traipsing in to finally hear the repercussions of most of their betrayals for the events of the last few days. Incompetence was no less a betrayal than working with the enemy in her eyes. She wondered if Ine agreed.

Even now, looking out at the man who had once been her student, perhaps even her ally, she could see only his flaws. Still a child in the mind of the world, despite all he had done. Still a green-Captain. And now, once more, a potential traitor. How he got himself into these situations was enough to rattle her mind, though it was becoming something of a trend and she rather disliked what that said about her attempt at “rehabilitating” the boy. As it had been her responsibility to ensure he was loyal perhaps some of the fallback would land on her plate for his mistakes, and if so she was ready to dispense her own brand of penance for those crimes. She would regret it a bit, maybe mourn over what could have been, but if the boy wanted to be idiotic twice in a row he had better not do it with her name attached to his. Besides, he had apparently learned nothing in the Second. If he wanted to subvert Ine, the golden rule was to at least remain damned sure you were never caught doing it. She certainly hadn't been when she was at that game, and if he couldn't match up to that basic expectation she wasn't sure when if ever the Aizawa would transition from a noble into a soldier in the eyes of the Gotei.

And the other; that... creature of the Fourth. Hisui was an enigma in a world of puzzles that Kiriko had already solved, and she disliked anomalies. Her previous attempt at interrogating the woman had resulted in less than favorable results, but that was due to her own faults and not necessarily any flaws in the merits of interrogation. It had been the wrong period in her life to go at it with an arrogant chit like Hisui, they naturally clashed and her anger had been something she was still learning to control back then. Still, why this woman was here instead of Ezekiel was something Kiriko planned on figuring out today. That man owed her a pound of flesh if only by association, and she had yet to take it out on him. The seizure of his little pet wasn't quite as fulfilling if she couldn't rub it in his face once or twice.

Hisui, in comparison, was a lackluster replacement. Only Ine could think that a Third Seat had the right to stand at one of these meetings, especially one so indecorous as that.

Loosening the muscles that had ridden up tense in her back, Kiriko leaned against the darkened alcove she had taken as her current refuge. It was time for a reckoning, and to begin shifting about the foundation that had been shattered once more by a foreign foe. From the rubble perhaps they could make something more solid this time around. She didn't have that much faith in her peers, but they were the tools at hand and she would have to find some use for them all.  

WC: 1015 | GP: 20 | Total GP: 20

“Yes, yes, just come and get me when it’s time”, he huffed at the spindly Shinigami who had the honor of being the court receptionist on that particular day.  He slapped the ‘summons’ into the man’s breadbasket and it thumped with an *oof* like an overripe melon.

Grabbing the loose, hanging fabric of his haori, he gathered it close to his legs and slouched down onto the open bench.  A creak, a groan, as the aged wood settled into place.  “This is all so drole…”, he lamented to no one in particular.  The courtyard was empty aside from him and his thoughts.  His voice was a somewhere just above a mumble and just beside a grumble yet there was no scowl across his face, and only the faintest dusting of frustration behind his eyes.  He spoke down into the floor, tersely, “This pomp and other crap.  Waste of my time.  There’s no way the meeting room is not ready.  I could just...go...right in.  And...and open the door!  And like...knock over some plants!  Yeah, that would show him.”

Before he knew it, he was nodding in agreement with himself.  It was an awful idea, and he knew it.  Even so far as to call it juvenile, which was not terribly becoming for a man of nearly nine-hundred years to try and pull off.

He pursed his lips to an infinitely small point, suppressing his urge to say more stupid things, as the spindly man came back to draw his attention.  “The Captain Commander is ready to receive you, Captain.”
 

Mhm.  Certain he needed to mention that his boss outranks me.

The bench creaked again as he lifted himself up, chest puffing up just a bit as he drew in a deep breath.
 

A turn here, a turn there, the spindly man let him in and closed the door behind him.

“Captain Aizawa”, his voice rang out through the almost cavernous room.  It was so full of the presence of the Pride of the Aizawa, and, “Captain Chinda”.  He didn’t see her at first, as she chose to cling to a wall, to an alcove, but he felt her.  Felt the tingle on the back of his neck, the familiar pressure of her biting reiatsu, cloying and clawing in the back of his head.  Something he could never forget.
 

“And who is this little glass of water?  I’m sure I’ve seen you busying about the Fourth, making Tanaka incompetent.  But what are you doing here?”  The woman felt small.  Not fragile, or weak, but shade of gray that fit between the towering figures with her in the room.

And nearby, the distinct signature of the Captain Commander loomed.

Word count // 454 = 9 || 9

Paperwork had always been something monotonous, a ritual of everyday life leading the Sixth Division that Hi-to had come to view as almost therapeutic. Never before had it held such weight in his hands, each thin sheet of rice paper carrying the weight of a million more.

This was going to change everything.

Keeping to the shadows and the dark underbelly of Seireitei was quickly losing its lustre in light of the current events that shook them so. Their militia had been shaken and torn, the pillars that once held it high forever changing and evolving to match it. The life of the man who sat back and watched the other Captains partake in their giant pissing contest was officially over, and the feeling was not entirely unlike peeling the vibrant skin of an orange to see the rotten flesh underneath, knowing he was about to take a bite.  It probably should have tasted worse than it did.

And when the messenger came to him with a letter sealed in wax and secrets he knew the time was now. With careful hands Hi-to had peeled the seal free, eyes flickering to the messenger in silent agreement. They’d left soon after, with little words shared between them. There was a million words to be spoken and none of them here, words that would be spoken in front of all the men and women who could make them happen. The world had changed and so he come to change with it; it would be a nice change of pace if the others would do the same.

It was always a novelty to see the first division lit with such apparent purpose. The large, zen doors of their meeting hall were open, officers posted outside it to direct people as needed. It wasn’t surprising that he was the last to arrive when the Sixth Division was the farthest, but it was interesting to feel the tense silence that surrounded its occupants. Only half were people he remembered from their last rendezvous and yet the feeling of underlying animosity and begrudging alliance was always the same.

A polite, cordial greeting to each and every man and woman that carried the rank of respect was made, until at last, amber eyes fell on the one person who he had least expected to see.

It was said that for some time the Sixth had been the lowest among the Gotei’s ranks, and yet the Fourth was here being represented by her? A small nod was all he could give Hisui; by far the most professional form of greeting he’d ever given her, and likely the last. For Hisui to be the best the Fourth could come up with...this meeting was going to last a lot longer than he’d previously thought.  They were not here today as a proud Gotei by any means, but that was going to change.

They had a long way to go. And there was a lot that needed answering for, things that should have been handled long ago.  

******
 
506 words: 10 GP

He had nodded politely as the others walked in, but remained silent and pensive until Kenshou walked in. He immediately stood at attention, greeting him respectfully and taking his position at the side of him.
 
Yet as soon as Kenshou began to speak, Jasper felt anger flare within him. "I called this meeting for a few reasons, and you will get them in time..." Kenshou had said, and Jasper mocked his tone. Did he think creating some air of mystery among who should be his most trusted circle of advisers was smart, or put him in a superior position? No, of course not--he didn't think. He was treating them, supposedly the strongest fighters and greatest minds in the Seireitei, like goddamn children. But Jasper once again suppressed his anger, for he knew there were more crimes against common sense to be made. Only a cocked eyebrow and slightly clenched fist would betray his distaste at this meeting already.
 
The name of his adopted sister came up. He nodded approvingly at his choice for Third Seat. She was definitely officer material and deserved the appointment. But as Kenshou continued, Jasper was caught off guard. It took him a moment to remember the different command structure of the First--each officer seat was head of a subdivision. An organizational ideal that was completely useless in the Fifth Division, he had almost forgotten about its existence. Special Operations Command; sounded like the job description of the Second, not a subcommand of the First. As he continued, this idea was only cemented. Finding corruption and traitors? Wasn't that exactly what the Second did very, very quietly? But Kenshou's motivation for the creation of this organization came swiftly: he was cementing power by striking down internal enemies. His own thought police. Jasper would have to be wary of operatives in his own division now, if they hadn't already infiltrated his ranks. Yet he had nothing to hide that hadn't already been revealed. He was a noble that had relinquished his power in the name of the Gotei. There could be no more questions of his personal loyalty unless they had figured out how to detect his kind, and Jasper knew how damning that would be to Kenshou as well. He was safe.
 
Finally, he asked for a report on the status of their divisions. Jasper looked around at his colleagues, nodding, before speaking. 
 
"Very well, Captain-Commander, I'll go first. Most of my time has been spent on purely clerical work that's come with my promotion, but I believe I'm just about finished. That should be coming to your desk in a matter of days--requisition orders for new facilities, operational reports, nothing out of the ordinary." He smiled internally. Forcing Kenshou to suffer through a mountain of paperwork was a small victory.
 
"Oh, and I've decided to make Nagisa Chinda my Lieutenant. While she may seem...inexperienced, she's proven herself in not just her raw skill, but as a leader in the heat of combat. I believe she'll make a fine addition to our officer corps." He intentionally avoided Kiriko's gaze after saying this--any accusations of nepotism or corruption would obviously not bode well for him.
 
"No changes in day-to-day operations. Our patrol pattern's been spread pretty thin, what with the resurgence of hollow activity around Karakura, but increased recruiting efforts should end that. I was planning on talking to Captain Chinda and Captain Kohara about perhaps devoting more men to patrolling not just hollow activity spots, but spiritualist enclaves. A patrol I sent out to investigate strange hollow activity on one of our areas was randomly attacked by one of these mortals. Luckily, all of them survived, however it shows a large whole in our efforts. I'd also like to start to train my men more efficiently on how to deal with insurgent threats such as these, and start enforcing anti-fraternization laws even more so. Men like Adimus should only be contacted by members of the Gotei through the right channels."

"Finally, sir, I'd like to request to begin another round of redevelopment of our Seireitei defense plans. Traditionally, we've relied on our gate guardians and passive detection systems, but more active surveillance and rapidly executable plans that can operate even during the failure of communication networks. I'll submit a more detailed report on that soon."

Nodding once more, Jasper stood back in line. This was all a waiting game, of course--the true purpose of this meeting had not yet been revealed, and likely would not be until Kenshou had had his fill of toying with them.

760

“I must admit, Commander, I am a bit concerned about this extra latitude you’ve empowered the recovering Aizawa with as your Third Seat.”  Naturally, he had waited for Hisui to finish her report before speaking up and stepping into the open floor; it was his turn now.  Not for any particular, striking reason.  It was just...time.

His sentence had charged that stale, stuffy air with just a little bit of tension.  Tokiyo scanned up and down the faces of all those in attendance during his post-comment pause, at last returning his eye contact to Kenshou.  “But, if you feel the threat she’s been empowered to investigate is substantial enough to warrant trampling our more...covert options,” his eyes shifted to Kiriko, perhaps obviously.  “Then I will of course provide any support that I can, and I will pass the word down immediately.”

“Now then,” he raised his hand up to his mouth, balled it into a loose fist, and covered up the forced cough he used to clear his throat.  A symbolic choice, really, clearing the air of the reasonably obvious shot he just took at, well, a lot of people.  “Re-training and career advancement continue to be my top priorities.  As predicted, there has been an incredible flood of duty-roster volunteers and internal job reassignment requests.  Momentum is building, but these tools must be carefully forged on an equally carefully stoked fire or we will open up unspeakable vulnerabilities.”

“As per usual, our greatest ally remains ‘time to prepare’.  I’ve had a full list of duty changes and new assignments sent ahead of me.  I think we’re just about to hit our stride in the next three to four months as the level of trained staff finally exceeds the production demand.”

“The final morsel to report,” he began to drift back into the line from which he had emerged.  “is that our Hospitaler program has raised community support to a level not experienced in decades.  I look forward to this program continuing to improve response times to medical emergencies, and pay other intangible dividends.  Very soon.”

Captain Aizawa had raised an excellent point that he had hoped everyone was well aware of.  There were some very large elephants in the room that the Captain Commander had not discussed.  Yet.  

The obvious solution was an appearance of control; something the Gotei and the Soul Society could sorely do with in the wake of recent weeks and months.  These Captains, and not-Captains, did not need to share a room to update each other.  And even if they did, it could be easily done in a private Mess over an hour long meal.

The fiery woman from the Fourth was certainly prepared for this meeting, but she could be forgiven for her unfamiliarity with the Captain Commander and his proclivities.  

Three down, two to go.

Word count // 474 = 9 || 18

Sometimes life was so terribly droll. In trying to listen to the speeches all around her, Kiriko found her attention slipping off point, sliding sideways and backward as words swirled down the two straight lines of Shinigami leadership. It wouldn't matter if she listened or not, what was being said could only inevitably be information she already knew. The words used, the tone chosen, the spin that each person filtered their report through, none of that was interesting enough to draw her attention away from the tingling buzz of lightning in her fingertips. She could feel the march of thousands of razor blade shards as they trod along her spine and settled in deep, carving away at her flesh with elegant flicks.

Pain honed her temper beyond what these gathered fools could normally achieve on their own. For once it wasn't a game of high stakes that caused her to keep silent as each Captain or representative stepped forward to give their regards to the Captain Commander. She wasn't playing at anything today, wasn't baiting or studying or even toying with the recipients of her displeasure. All that seemed to pale in comparison to the fog of torment that cloaked her.

So much had changed. So much was no longer true. No longer reality. And she was too tired to think about it like she should be doing. Too tired to reassess where she was and what was beneath her feet. It had to be enough, for now, that she had surpassed even the most generous of estimates when it came to the world's expectations of Shunko. It had to be enough that she still had Ine's trust. It had to be enough that Kirishi was dead, or as close to dead as could be believed.

Breathing quietly, she felt the tender bones in her ribcage shift and settle awkwardly as Hi-to finalized the last report, leaving the audience hall in an empty silence. It was time to act, to divulge the necessary information that would lead her little mice into the mazes of her choosing. She had so many plans, so many ideas, all of it controlled and rigid and plotted out to a degree of utter certainty – but somehow the silence had passed too quickly or maybe her thoughts were too sluggish, because when it came time for Kiriko to step forward she found her mind blank.

Exhaling, her shoulders a bony necklace clasped around her throat and her hands hardened as if spear tips at her side while a soft refrain whispered through her skull: Going to war, going to war, she wasn't sure why it felt like the reality. Nor why an old warning had risen now. Preparation is the first skill. Who had taught her that?

“Before you start worrying about a new barrier, I would pay a little bit of attention to the Shakonmaku. While in its new form it likely has weaknesses we are unaware of, it is not the same as it was when Kirishi overpowered it. Not that it isn't prudent to develop a secondary barrier system, merely that it would be a waste to ignore what is right in front of your eyes.”

“More on point, the Nibantai has recently been restructured to give clearer guidance to our members and to take better advantage of individual expertise,” her throat seemed to be working of its own accord, her voice coming out dry and bland as if she had carefully planned these remarks.

“We are seeing an increase in applicants from the Academy, however, our acceptance rates have remained the same despite this influx of interested parties. While our numbers are not yet back to normal after the heavy losses during the past few attacks, I have decided not to lower my requirements for admission to pad our ranks. In the meantime, my men have been sufficient in completing their duties despite the decrease in our numbers.”

Kiriko had kept her gaze direct, staring this whole time directly at the Captain Commander, but as she paused artfully to flick a strand of hair over her shoulder her eyes slipped down the lines around her. “According to the Nibantai's last formal count, active duty Shinigami in all the divisions are still down by 23%. This is attributable to the normal yearly losses but primarily due to the decimation of the previous attacks on Seireitei and Karakura Town. Interestingly enough Kirishi's recent foray resulted in minimal deaths despite the high injury count, most of which were caused by lack of discipline among the ranks and the few Hollow-breeds that took advantage of the breach in the Shakonmaku.”

That was a truth many knew on some level, if not literally. The Shinigami ranks had not been growing adequately like they should have been. They had never truly recovered after Tova's decimation of Soul Society, with many divisions losing a third or more of their men in one day. The Academy simply couldn't put out enough students to fill that big of a gap, and it would take several years before things were back to normal again. Years before their ranks were full and all the divisions could be staffed adequately. She hoped that would be what the other Captain's were all thinking about as she led into her next assertion. Maybe she wasn't over the whole bait and switch concept quite yet.

“In light of these recent changes, the Second has elected to disassemble the Sixth Division and take on their former duties. All members will be free to decide to stay on with the Second or to transfer out to a new division. Hi-to will assist me in this transition and has agreed to take the position of my Lieutenant.”

She paused, her gaze lingering on Fujikagi for one heart-stabbing second, before a ghost of a smile slithered across her face. “The Captain Commander has approved this request, as has the previous Captain of the Sixth, Jomyaku-taichou. Or, more accurately, he gave up his division when he lost to me, and who am I to spurn such spoils of war?” The fatigue seemed to shift, ebbing away just slightly as the stronger feeling of triumph lit her from the inside out and Kiriko's smile morphed into a sharp-edged grin.

She was ready now. Ready to take them all on.

WC: 1050 | GP: 21 | Total GP: 41

An incline of her head in Captain Fujikagi and Kohara's direction. One or both of them would prove to be rather useful in testing that which needed to be hit with... well, something just shy of whatever it was they could hit it with for collection and processing to find the weaknesses and flaws within such a barrier. She might have had a few... illegal containers in one of her Earth labs with some residual matters that might help combat their natural enemy as well.

Lucas would probably hate that she'd taken samples from him and would be utilizing them against his own kind, but he'd deal like he had everything else.

A casual brow had been raised in Captain Chinda's direction, a polite mask upon her stoic face as she listened to the critique of the Fourth's assigned project by the Captain Commander himself. A faint smile, as if it were a playful secret only she were privy to slipped past the mask.

The repair of the old, of course, was on the list of things to do-- but why have something old and broken when one could assimilate the data taken from its destruction and make something better from it. Vermilion eyes peered over the frames of her glasses-- and locked on to the woman's visage as she continued to offer her own part in the political game being played.

What the--

Oh hell.

Nervous rustling from within the depths of her mind and soul from her spirit. He didn't like what she saw. He didn't like it in the slightest.

Her hand continued to move across the page as if guided by a force other than her own, still noting matters word by word like a proper scribe. Kiriko's words continuing until the triumphant blade of a smile on her face sharpened all the further.

Umi knew who, and most importantly, what she was then. And had lost to her anyway.

Another complication thrown into an already tumulus situation-- and she found herself walking an even thinner line than she'd found herself treading once she'd been enlightened on Umi's true identit-- Oh, of course she'd just add Kohara on as her Lieutenant. Of course she would, why not? It wasn't like he was competent or probably one of the most well suited for the bloody ninja division, given what he often came to her for and how much a pain in the ass he had a penchant for being.

Too goddamn observant for his own good for things he shouldn't be, and oblivious as all get out for that which should matter the most to someone like him.

"Problems, Hisui?" The squatter sounded entirely too cheerful for his own good, and had he been in proper form, she could just see his hands rubbing together in sadistic delight over the challenge.

She was going to have to behave for at least two hundred years, or until Chinda and Kohara wound up too occupied to potentially look into some discrepancies or turn their venomous gaze and skills in her direction. Fading into obscurity would be a better plan at this point, squashing down achievements, progress, making herself look nothing more than a one trick pony that was useless outside anything than the laboratory where she was most often found--

Damn it, Third Division just managed to get their hands on some interesting material.

I doubt offering him a squirrel or crate of treats will get me access to some of the more interesting tomes. She'd figure out how to bribe Fujikagi for access late-- damn it, the Captain Commander was thorough-- and she wasn't going to be kissing his ass any time soon.

His gaze fell on her, and, expectantly as always with the pen hovering just above the paper in preparation, the bespectacled woman's gaze was straight, fearless, and filled with a quiet pride and anticipation as he addressed the lone member of the Fourth.

Taishaku writhed, delighted at the idea of new responsibility, new access to formerly of limits materials, and the pay grade boost. "Perhaps he's about to promote you to Captaincy or Lieutenancy!"

Ooh, don't do i- yes! His words fell clear and true. A silent victory within her mind as the spirit sulked at his aspirations being shot down and burned in mid-air. Satisfaction, brief as it was, swept through what little of her could be read by those with more fine tuned senses. Most would have been disappointed, angered even, by the idea that they weren't invited to an important meeting just to be promoted.

The completely unsubtle threat toward her division being dissolved and absorbed by the Third if things didn't change was taken with a graceful incline of her head.

"No, Hisui, you are not allowed to send an entire crate of gummy genitalia to the Captain Commande--"

Fuckin' watch me.

Project "No Promotion Ever" was officially being put into place.

Even if the division were to be absorbed, an inevitability from her current standpoint, she had options that would grant her the ability to transfer elsewhere and continue her penchant for being considered nothing more than an ambitionless Shinigami just picking up a paycheck at the end of the day. One who did her duties well, of course, but one who had zero drive and aspiration to be more than just another faceless presence in a faceless world full of people wanting to claim some sort of superiority and sense of accomplishment and prestige over another.

Soul King himself would have to come down and tell her she had to become Captain because of destiny or some bullshit like that before she'd ever consider giving it a second thought.

Vaizard-- a new term that piqued her interest as a scientist, as did the explanation. Her pen lowered-- after finishing the decree, of course-- and her voice came forth. "The Fourth offers their services in aiding further research upon Vaizard, should it be deemed necessary."

She already had experience with Sovereigns-- the hungry snakes awaiting the chance to rip the throat out of birds much bigger than anything the Shinigami had seen to date, even whatsherface who'd crashed the noble fight thing hadn't been much in comparison to what Umi, Hatred, had let her see and feel in the development process. It was almost worth hoping that Chinda would require something similar to the former Sixth Division Captain, just to see the irritated look on her face when she realized that a nobody was already one step ahead of her division's little game.

Confidentiality wasn't worth a damn when she made it a point to be an infected boil on the backside of those who tried getting any closer to her than absolutely necessary for business related purposes.

--

WC: 1129
GP: 22

Very dangerous predators are, more often than not, best kept distracted or at bay by tossing them very large slabs of meat.

Juicy, delicious, well marbled, perfectly raw, slabs of meat.

And in his gut, this distraction evoked just that response in the Captain...the idea of having that entire archive to himself! He got only the smallest of tastes, between the traumatic journey with Former Captain Jomyaku, and his chance encounter with creature named Tenko. Yes, he was already salivating, it was true. But, like any wise, experienced predator, he was skeptical of a free meal.

Was the Captain Commander performing the role of a game keeper? Tossing something easy and satisfying and stationary at Tokiyo in order to keep him close to home, growing slower and fatter off the information pouring in. It was an obvious possibility that was only too easy to pull off, and only to easy for the intended target to gobble up.

Or was the Captain Commander doing his best to be the game hunter? Cornering his prey and luring him on to the trail of information that Kenshou wanted him to find, wanted him to use, to take him to...whatever mysterious end he had in mind. He thought better of Kenshou than to stoop to such a subtle trap, and so he would continue to do so.

He would allow himself to dance to the tune of this game keeper.

“I understand your orders, Commander.” He barked solidly. The silence in the room had grown; none of them had ever seen a full gag order issued on a set of the Captain Commander’s instructions. Maybe one at a time, a secret mission here or there, but a joint obligation to all of them? There was a greater purpose afoot, and the Captain of the Third would not be the one to get in the way.

“I echo the offer of support, and I think detection of this menace dubbed ‘Vaizard should be our top priority.  Furthermore…”, he trailed on as his gaze bounced around the room. “my Lieutenant and I were reviewing data and I think there is a surprising amount of it available. We just didn’t know we have been looking at it. With this information about reversal, and the archives of the Central 46, I am optimistic we can engineer a swift and effective means of rooting out these monsters.”

He dropped his head slightly, bowing it in deference to whomever would speak next. But his eyes lingered...just a bit longer...on their last target, Captain Kiriko. Her soul was damned, so she claimed. He had seen sides and pieces of her that no one else in this room had, and in the back of his mind, as the words of the Captain Commander sank into his cortex he thought of Kiriko. As he looked into his mind as to ‘why’, only a gnawing uncertainty answered him back.

Their meeting had taken an ominous tone in his mind, and perhaps even more disturbingly he couldn’t be sure as to why.

The Captain yielded the floor.

Word count // 512 = 10 || 28

If there was a voice chart to show the inflection of emotion in his colleagues, Kiriko’s would have been as flat as a heart monitor in death; just the way Hi-to preferred. The decision to collapse the Sixth Division had been a surprisingly easy one, and his unwavering loyalty to the Gotei and Kiriko herself saw the transition go as smoothly as could be expected between two Divisions who had always been stepping on each other’s toes. The combined manpower was paramount, their united skills finally able to work in tandem towards a better future.

There was so much cleansing to be done.

Hi-to’s eyes lingered a second longer on Hisui as he took in the Captains words around him, stripping her down of that imaginary dignity she always carried. In a way the two of them carried something in common, the way until recent light they’d always clung to the shadows, watching from afar with their own hidden agendas. It was the similarity between them that had him mistrust her so. He couldn’t be that way anymore, but she would.

It was hard to trust someone that carried the same tendencies he had when he couldn’t even trust himself.

Spoken like a true politician, for all the words Kenshou spoke, the majority of them were just a parrot of what had already been said. The Second’s duties would not change; the Sixth had existed to make public what was allowed to be public, to showcase law and order to the denizens of Soul Society. But things could no longer be so black and white as they once were, the world ever purporting as they spoke.

The desire to see the forbidden library was a small itch at the back of his mind, a thought to ponder later as he settled into his new quarters. Nothing was worth not knowing anymore, their ignorance their downfall, the confidentiality of such a place speaking volumes of what may have been contained within. Granted, whatever was logged hadn’t seemed to have done much good to the people allowed access to it. It was an admission overshadowed by Kenshou’s next words, the skeleton in the closet they’d all been wanting to meet.

The admission of the Vaizard should have been something big, monumental, scary. But to many of them it was old news, and the words from Erasmus through Maya seemed so long ago, the same words he’d relayed to Kiriko and Umi along with Kyousuke’s suspicions. Nobody in the room looked as surprised as they perhaps would have a couple of years ago, and why would they? It was likely they were already aware or infected themselves.

Theories sprung to mind, biochemical compositions and samples just waiting to be put to use, the virus infecting them a dramatic irony of their very enemy. There was only one issue.

“I also may have a way of flushing out the Vaizard. Although, Captain Commander...I’m sure you’re aware of the rumour that has taken to the air that you are also one of these Vaizard. I’m sure we’d all be very interested to hear it from you.”

******

521 words: 10 GP
Total GP: 43 GP

An odd desire rose to the surface of her thoughts, like a gossamer bubble floating on the wind. Prodding it gently with her bored thoughts, Kiriko diagnosed the soft pop as she analyzed the contents in one bland swallow. For some reason, she felt like humming, a jaunty tune rising up in her mind as if to backlight the play going on before her. Every puppet had taken their place, actors poised with grand expressions and gaudy words. Even the gestures were pitch-perfect, kabuki symbolism at its best. Just by their bearing you could infer this was a meeting of importance, even the humblest and smallest of visitors filled to the brim with purpose, as if that cloak of usefulness would protect them from the gaze of their irreverent Captain Commander.

Kiriko knew in her heart that this play was not going to follow the script so many here had foretold. No, Ine was too much of an irritable brat to actually do what anyone thought he would. He just couldn't stand to be predictable, perhaps something in him would collapse if he let himself fall into any tried and true methods. Or maybe it was just that if he didn't plan things out beforehand, didn't ask for guidance or permission, that it meant he could waste all his time up until a penultimate meeting lazing around. 

She could almost hear the twang of the shamisen, a trilling beat rising like heat shimmers in the air as one by one the Captains or assorted leaders stepped forward to affirm Ine's little Vaizard plot. And how funny, how droll, that he sought to make such empty promises. Some small corner of her mind was irked that he would even dare suggest he had “handled” Sakamoto-san, when everyone knew that Miki's life belonged to Kiriko's hands and her hands alone. Still, the rumors had perpetuated far enough that she understood it was his little ret-con of history, some shadow of his intended legacy.

As the drum beat quickened, Kiriko could almost taste the thick syrup of anticipation as Kohara cast the first lance. Her favorite little spy, Kohara was so easy to predict. Perhaps that was what made him precious. A known contingent on her game board, but not uselessly straightforward or lacking in subtly. He was an important piece, and she was all the happier to have him openly at her side for the first time. This one was hers, and unlike the ones before him, he would not stray from her grasp.

The play was too trite to really enjoy, everyone moving robotically through their roles. Only the tinge of well-concealed fear and wonderment was of any consolation to her roving mind. These little soldiers, all in a row... Hisui's reiatsu palpatated in much the same pattern as a beating heart, and Kiriko could almost picture the scurry of her rapid-fire alarm. But the woman was schooled to her profession and that perfectly respectful response was just this side of cool collection. Fujikagi was a better target for her attention though he was also more closed off than Hisui. She wondered what his paranoid mind was imagining as the strings attached to all that Ine was saying. What beast did he fear lurking under the grand speeches and social pandering?

More than that, Kiriko wondered who these vultures would turn on next. If Ine failed to ward off Kohara's weak little jab, would they all fall upon him, like wild dogs on a rabbit? And when the big bad Captain Commander was no longer in the picture, who would become the next villain of their story? For clearly they needed someone to fill that role, someone to pressure them to work and strive and cling to success. Maybe Hatred was right about some things. Shinigami were too emotionally attached to their jobs, and it took leverage and strong goading to get them really worked up in a manner that ensured they actually did those jobs properly.

That too reminded her of a play. The only curiosity left to her was how Ine would be vanquished in the end. She rather favored the cliche of the spirit's wrath, but maybe that said too much about her traditional upbringing. 

WC: 707 | GP: 14 | Total GP: 55

“Here, here!”, he bellowed in the wake of the Captain Commander.

Kenshou Ine had a habit of eliciting something best described as an anxious discomfort in those he spent too much time around - a quantifiable annoyance, occasionally bordering on hatred, that Tokiyo had learned much about as he sifted through all the archives available to him during his long career.

Imagine, a nimble little housefly the shared a space with you; it flits about your apartment, or your home, the rustling and gentle buzz of its wings piercing the otherwise serene silence you found yourself in.  You can see the fly, tiny and gray and dirty and out of place in your zen...and you move to strike at it!  To pin it down!

Yet your open palm finds only air, the target having escaped by whatever slimmest margin it felt most dramatic to escape by.

Your eyes, now focused and alert after having struck so suddenly at the insect, dart around the room looking to acquire your pray once more.  Aha!  Over there on the windowsill!

Again, your open palm comes up with nothing but air.

WIth every possible amendment of respect, Kenshou Ine was like that fly - there was just nothing you could do to pin him down.  Literally, figuratively.  Politically, socially.  You could hear the hum of his flight but…

“I agree, any lingering question we have about the Commander and these rumors, no matter the degree of implication, is best solved by finding a means for detection and seeing what turns up rather than conjecture and rumor.”  Tokiyo thoughtfully, slowly, scanned the room and the eyes of those assembled.  There was real tension, maybe even real angst, in the eyes of Kohara and Kiriko.

“And you’re damn right everyone in this room right now will be first in line to pass verification.  Everyone.  And before we have a spree of pardons as we condense resources from the former Sixth, I would hope you share my caution in wanting to screen all detainees as well, Captain Kiriko.”

And at long last, his leveled eyes settled on her.  They had only the dryest, thinnest, of conversations over the last year since he accepted the appointment of the Third.  Her face never changed, he body language never faltered.  But those eyes...those deep, abyssal, almond-shaped eyes.  Sometimes when he looked at her, like even now from the safety of his haori and surrounded by other Captains, Tokiyo felt like a rat in a terrarium waiting for the snake to grow bored enough with its food and just get on with it.

Sticking with Ine here and quashing the rumors being thrown was not a good way to avoid the snake’s attention.

Word count // 456 = 9 || 37