Return The Favor [closed/Tomie]

He kept dabbing at the stain, unsuccessfully, as he muttered curses to himself.

So fucking much for that. Again, really? Again and again. This is insanity, I fall into this without fail. What fucking right does she have? Maybe she should see how it feels to be fucking dropped and walked away from. I bet that would change things, but that might hurt her again, wouldn’t it? We don’t want that now do we, oh no. Poor Magdela and her fucking Second division.

He hadn’t noticed the Rukongai woman seated by him, he had been much too concentrated on his failed date. He only shook his head as she spoke.

“Issues.” He half-laughed. “Ya, something like that, I guess. No need for that really, this will probably-“ He stopped himself, realizing the futility of his actions, and that he should stop being so unsociable.

Finally looking up from his hopeless task, his eyes met the beautiful woman before him. She was the shining example of traditional Japanese couture, something he found strangely appealing. He assumed she was a Rukongai native, probably a merchant considering how refined she looked. Although considering her garb… she might be one of the extremely rare well off self-made worker.

Looks like more trouble to me, but the right kind.

He accepted her handkerchief graciously, and proceeded with what little damage control that could be done on the stain.

“Ah, well, it’s not like I’ll be buying anymore tea soon.” His tone was bitter, but grew lighter as he further opened up to the stranger. “May as well trust a local right? I’m Karatsu, and your sincerity is very much appreciated miss…” He let his sentence hang, hoping she would fill the void where her name should be. Getting up from his chair, he left a slightly larger than average tip, and motioned that he would do the same for the helpful stranger. He never picked up on some of the glances directed at the two, some of them knowing, others disapproving, as he let her lead the way.
After all, who would conduct that kind of business in a place like this in the middle of the day?

Following her lead from the Dancing Dragon, Hanbei gave a quick shoulder roll, readjusting to this districts mild temperature.

“I imagine you’ve broken your fair share of hearts, although I hope with not as much drama as back there. Are you a married woman?” His lips quickly pursed: quick to realize that was not an appropriate question. “I hope you don’t assume I ask in a less than honorable fashion, I am just curious whether you were the one to provide yourself with such a- beautiful kimono. Looks well beyond something most of us can afford.” He had hesitated, making sure he didn’t blather out luxurious or lush, which would have been more apt to describe her flawless skin that was open for perusal thanks to the cut of her kimono.

I think the word you were looking for was sensual, maybe? Or perhaps opaque, because the scales on my tits leave more to the imagination than that kimono. Maybe I’m just being a little too bourgeois here, but it’s not exactly warm enough to be flaunting whatever she was born with. Sybaritic: that’s the word I would’ve gone with.

Unsure of what sybaritic meant, Hanbei ignored his feisty zanpakuto, leaving her continued displeasure up to the events that had just unfolded. “So about this tailor, I’m not going to have to fork over an arm and a leg, am I? Because,” He hiked up the sleeve of his right arm, revealing the prosthetic beneath. “I can really only afford an arm.” A stifled grin spread across his lips.

Wow. That was painful.

WC- 626/1766. GP- 12/34.

Madam: it seemed like such a strange title to him, but to each their own right? Why should it be any different than Miss or Mister? With all the different traditions, ethnicities and cultures within the entirety of the Rukongai, there were too many to learn and remember. He nodded as she introduced herself, appreciating the customary bow within Japanese tradition, and hoping she didn’t find it rude that he did not introduce himself with one.

“Glad to make the acquaintance of one of the successful entrepreneurs of the Rukongai. Although I’ve not been a patron of Moyamoyasumi, I know that I have heard good things about it. Must be nice to have garnered such reputation outside of your district, it speaks for your ability in business. As for that tailor, I will regard your garb as a testament to their proficiency with the thread and needle.”

It was true that he had heard of Moyamoyasumi before, many more times than he remembered at this moment, but Hanbei could not recall why. He tried remembering why people had liked it there, he knew it was the main attraction of the Western 22nd to the shinigami, or who it was that had recommended it, but nothing came.

It was routine for those unfamiliar with Hanbei to be surprised by the prosthetic. In the Rukongai, lost limbs were often left that way, or fitted with extremely rudimentary replacements, the residents outside the Seretei too poor for advanced prosthetics like his or the healing required to reattach the limb. Amongst the Shinigami, most had their lost limbs regrown or reattached if possible, thus making prosthetics almost obsolete. Some wounds were unsalvageable though, making limb recovery impossible, which had not been the case for him, he was just stubborn.

“This one is the most recent update to a short line of arms I’ve been wearing for a few decades now. Killed a bit of a problem Hollow that took my arm, I guess someone in the Fourth Division decided it would only be fair that I get something out of it. I didn’t think a new arm would feel the same, because I guess I didn’t, so I chose to let it go. Not need for apologies, we can call it even, but the mystery surrounding my arm is something I welcome. Now we both have answers.”

And so they continued towards the tailor, unaware of any slights Madam Magahara may have hinted at. Besides, he was still too upset stewing over his previous debacle, and he really hoped she couldn’t tell. Being around people on edge was uncomfortable, this woman seemed like she would not tolerate being made to feel uncomfortable. In fact, the woman’s serenity seemed to like she could tolerate a lot, but chose not to.

Proper Shinigami material right there.

“Besides living on Shinigami pay barely keeps these things in top shape.” He joked again while reattaching the limb. “The work ends up making a lot of them scrap, even though I’m supposed to be tucked away in the hospital most of the time.”

WC- 514/2280. GP- 10/44.

Apparently he had finally hooked in his companion’s interest at the mention of Hollows. He could tell her about some of the deadlier ones he had killed, or even the one that had taken his arm, but this was hardly a time to gloat. Instead of building himself up, he would simply answer what she had asked.

“At best, they’re just like wild beasts. Instinctual and hardly sentient. The only difference between them and the pets we keep are domestication and the look in their eyes. They lack that connection we feel with regular animals, so obvious that there is nobody inside them. I’ve seen rabid animals that I could relate to better than them. And at their worst… I’d say they’re comparable to the kind of scum that would kill children and the pregnant without second thought. And other than the tallest ones, no two look the same. That’s part of the reason why we have a hard time predicting what they’ll do outside of preying on souls.”

As they stopped before their destination, he was impressed by how large the building was. Most structures in a district tended to be fairly uniform in size, so the colored and relatively large establishment easily stood out among the rest.

“I must admit, I wish the Seretei did a better job of naming things. Rukon inspired names could fix some of the bleakness inside the walls. Or perhaps beauty is best kept amongst the Rukongai.”
It was all he said while admiring its front before following her in. Normally, he would have gotten the door, except he was awkwardly trailing her. She seemed to esteem herself highly, and looking like the mess he was, doing so might have insulted her.

 Or maybe it would’ve play into her ego that he was not aware of.

He had no idea she would be greeted so warmly once inside: he was more accustomed to such pleasantries in the closer districts. It was also much more proper than he had estimated; the inside was polished clean, the employees were better dressed than he was, and from what stock he could see, they were of much superior quality to anything he had ever worn, easily making his regular shihakusho look ratty in comparison.

He bowed swiftly and deeply, almost feeling embarrassed for Magahara to have such an unsightly guest with her. Before being able to say anything, she is already signing for something! To his horror, he realizes that she intends to pay for him, and is completely caught off guard as to why.

Why would she do that? There’s no way I can let her go through with that. She owes me nothing yet she would be so generous?

“I…”

He goes to reach for the paper, to see how much he would have to cough up, but pauses.

Declining would be wrong. Obviously she can afford it, look at her own garments. She would not offer this to a stranger if it would truly cost her anything.

Considering Sabi’s words, he changes his mind: it would be rude to refuse her graciousness. And if he insisted on paying, he would just come back on his own at a future time and pay then, she would not have to know.

“I thank you very much Madam Magahara. I swear to care for this garb as well as you have treated me this day.”

He bows, even deeper than when he had first entered, and makes sure to catch her eyes before going off to find something he liked, which ended up being a green kimono. He is brought to another room to change and proceeds to hand over the only remaining clothing he has had from before entering the Academy.

Despite having lost his arm, and a few friends over the decades, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia. It was fitting that he had obtained this in the Rukongai, and already liked his new kimono for the same reason. He came back out to the initial room, feeling a bit spiffy in the fresh outfit, he hadn’t looked this good in a long time.

For different reasons, he couldn’t help but think to himself that he would never understand women. Both Magdela’s and Magahara’s actions had left him with questions, and he was sure he would likely never get answers to them.

WC- 730/3010. GP- 14/58.