Confluence [Closed/Tokiyo]

Spending enough time in the woods, it became easy to know when you had walked into a grove or a clearing, or reached one of the deep, dark places of the forest that you really should not be. There were places that the trees and animals and critters and bugs owned that man, or Shinigami, simply did not. The paths that big things like him walked were known and marked by the worn footsteps of the people to travel before. But just off of the trail, just far enough away from the known to lose sight of your path, thrived countless things your eyes never let you see.

They scurried before clumsy man, not out of fear but rather a universal concern that his big, oafish hands would muck up a good thing with careless steps and curious poking at a thing he had no domain over. And this shrine, this quiet spot just far enough off the beaten path, felt like one such place.

The eyes were on him as soon as he touched down. Kido was anything but subtle under normal circumstances, and this was no exception. A bright, shimmering column of iridescent, pale light split the sky and parted the thick blanket of winter storm clouds just long enough to allow the Shinigami’s passage before sealing back up again without a trace. A crack of thunder, rolling and tinny, precluded his touchdown onto a small outcropping of bare dirt and stone.

A man, broad shouldered and stocky but thin in the face, was all that was left when the light had faded. Standing out against the snow and the flurries, the black shihakusho of a Shinigami was unmistakable. The gleaming white of his haori, as well cared for as it was, seemed all the more gray against the pristine snow that fell between where he was and the small collection of things before him.

And just like in the forest, the eyes of those animals and critters and other such things that knew better than to get in the way of his clumsy touch, settled into their safe places and watched him. Closely.

A large, handled, alabaster jug, shaped to resemble something of a gourd hung from the fingers of his left hand, swaying gently with the step of his body as he began to cross the shrine grounds; if there were predatory eyes watching him, his surefooting and slow pace would give the thing all the time it needed to plot and to coil for a strike. And the more warning he had, the better.

He could taste hostility on the air but it wasn’t, well, personal. Something hung here, like a scar, that he had yet to touch with all of his sense that had changed this place from the serenity nature had come to build. Maybe it was healing, maybe it was festering.

And as if on queue, the energy of this place gave voice to a small woman many meters away at the base of a beautiful, towering Wisteria.

“Come now, miko, do you expect me to believe that the spirits of this place take something like a ‘snow days’? I would think that both reverence and perseverance demand that we should press on with our duties despite these conditions.” His voice was low and carried, muffled slightly by the soft flakes that were beginning to stick to the sleeves and shoulders of his garb.

He bent his elbow and hoisted the alabaster jug up closer to eye level, twisting it slowly from side to side so the contents would slosh. It was likely all but impossible to hear at such a great distance, but the thing still moved with the weight of something full, as a tiny rivulet of steam escaped from an edge of the lid.

Tokiyo mustered as polite a smile as he could, and while he was no good at faking warmth, he was masterful in his ability to feign sincerity. “Besides, I’m sure they would appreciate an offering of this most delicious and piping hot tea on such a day.”

The smile softened down to little more than a smirk, as the words that followed would need considerably more freedom to lead her to where he wanted her, this conversation, and this visit, to go than his cheesy smile ever could. “Unless you plan to leave me out here until it gets cold? And maybe we could find the time to talk about this curiosity on my roster, while we’re at it.”

Word count // 754 = 15 || 15

"This simple miko would not dare presume to speak for those who have voices of their own-- unless this one is requested to do so in their stead." She returned the verbal serve with one of her own.

A small surge of pride bloomed quietly within her for keeping her voice calm and steady. Her heart threatening to thunder its way out of her chest and scurry for the sanctuary of the mountains.

This was not the battlefield in which she wished to play hard and fast on-- not with her family, not with the place filled with memories that she called home all around her and a man very very capable of destroying everything in his path by the feel of his soul.

A Captain would have his limiter, would have to receive permission to have it removed in order to go past a certain point. She reassured herself with that knowledge almost obsessively. Reminded herself time and time again that there were laws and rules even Seireitei citizens weren't allowed to break without justifiable cause.

Her eyes narrowed. Twisted barb sinking in where it would sting more than she wished to admit to. A guest arriving with an offering, as the Hostess, she would be most ill mannered to reject such a thing. Unless she didn't want the dubious pleasure of his company; something she could very well make clear there on the spot and in no uncertain ter--

What'd fuckface speedster tell you? Ame snapped within her mind, sharp tongued as ever.

It set the white haired woman's teeth on edge, left her wishing to Hell and beyond that she hadn't opened her big fat mouth back in Seireitei and had just gone about her way.

"I happen to be quite aware that most of you have some sort of resistance against the elements here in the mortal realm; a man of your caliber should be a little more resilient than the impression you wish to give off." He could take from that what he wished; she wasn't going to bother correcting him in either case.

Why the hell was that Shinigami that Takua respected here?

An incline of her head. "This way." Motioned with one sweeping sleeve to a small tea house hidden behind the vast tree and disappeared inside herself.

Dimly lit but for candles cast in the four corners and the center altar itself, reflected off the small mirror hanging in its octagonal setting. Two stone cups, simple in appearance and yet exquisite in glaze and craftsmanship, appeared at the center of the floor as if drawing a line between the two sides. Implored them to meet in the middle and see could be done.

She held herself in proper form; hands lightly resting against her legs and back impossibly straight with gaze direct and clear. Waited until the door closed behind him to preserve what heat was left within the building to speak.

"How, and for that matter, why did you manage to pinpoint my location, Fujikagi-san?" She knew who he was. Perhaps not his rank other than Captain at that moment in time, but she had his name and what little that Arrancar had told her about someone he had considered a friend.

Had that man sold her out?

Had someone else informed him of her existence?

Worse yet... was he here to finish what Hi-to had started?

--
WC: 566
GP: 11

“May I?” He looked to the curiously inviting, warm, cream colored tatami mat floor, then back to his hostess. And naturally, he did not wait for any longer than the time it would have taken for her to draw a breath of protest before he stepped out of his sandals, onto the mat, and began lowering himself to the floor.

The tea house enclosing them was a simple wonder of a classic design. Unremarkably befitting a place such as this shrine yet somehow impressionable in just how appropriate it was. He could almost imagine the grand Wisteria tree springing up and giving rise to all these other amenities and qualities of the area as if they grew from its own roots, rather than placed there by the hand of man.

Out of the wind and out of the snow, the temperature was much more agreeable and Tokiyo could no longer see his breath before his face, although his ‘hostess’ remained no warmer to his presence. She was a bitter one, for whatever her personal reasons might have been, and although he could feel her straining against herself to hold it back she was also making no serious effort to be fake with him. Contempt wasn’t the right word, but he could taste the venom on her breath when she spoke. Karaudo remained silent on the experience so far, although she had been very obviously integral to him being here in the first place.

The gourd jug clunked against the floor with a dull thud quickly followed by the soft tap of Tokiyo’s knees on the mat. He carefully raised one of the stoneware cups to the lip of the jug, then popped the lid free, gripped the handle, and tipped it slightly until the scalding hot liquid began to pour. Returning the first cup to its place he looked over his shoulder to his hostess, as if to imply the obvious, ’Won’t you join me?’ sort of thing, before he began to fill his own cup.

The tension was overly ripe from this young woman, and that lead him to only a few reasonable conclusions. He could feel the rigid anticipation in her neck, and those tingly fingers of caution that stopped her shoulders and back from relaxing in even the slightest. Her soul was a rich and full thing, impressively tended and unexpectedly big for such a tiny wielder, yet she had the glimmer of something that...in the right light...could be mistaken for fear when she looked upon his uniform and saw a Soldier of the Gotei. She had done this dance of hospitality before, and it had bit her. That had to be it.

Again, Karaudo was silent. But it was too late for her to do anything about it regardless. The familiar hum of Sekai’s energy, detected by chance, triggered thought and memory his Inner Spirit had carefully held close and private. The idea that the two of them could keep anything from one another was a tough one to swallow at first, but the defense made sense. She had never been on her own before, and never would be again; and just like another person is free to keep and tell what they choose, so too should she be free to keep and choose while she was ‘another person’. But the cat was still out of the bag.

“I must admit you’ve got me at a bit of a disadvantage, miko. It seems you have my name, and a look for me as if you carry more than one assumption about who is in your home, yet I have almost nothing at all about you.” The meandering, informal tone of his voice was a good deal more of a liberty than he should probably be taking as a stranger in a now strange land, but laying out the game was something he had been looking forward to ever since he had put the proverbial two and two together.

He continued as he scooted the stoneware cup close, waiting for her to join him, unwilling to start drinking by himself unless she proved even more obstinate. “I felt something familiar the other month when cleaning up after my former Captain Commander. I knew immediately that I recognized it, but I didn’t know how I felt so sure, or why.”

Tokiyo pursed his lips briefly; he had rehearsed this introduction several times but the words still burbled about in his throat and mouth and threatened to jumble themselves into a knotted heap of near-words. Focusing on his diction, and the satisfaction of finally ‘cornering’ his quarry here was more than enough to return him to what he wanted to say. “It was some time later, much more recently, that I came across a late entry in a roster from Kenshou’s final hours in command that tripped the last trickle I needed in order to find you. A simple scribbling in dreadful handwriting, referring a ‘Little One’ entry into the First Division. Memories from a piece of me I didn’t even know held memories suddenly became available and before long I was able to, as you put it, pinpoint your location.”

A short but deep inhale, punctuated by an almost lethargic exhale created a sizeable gap in his words. The voice that picked up afterwards was much softer and more personable, more genuine, than anything that had bothered to wriggle out of his lips so far. “I suppose I am here to understand just what it is I’ve been left to deal with. What, precisely, he had agreed to on my behalf.”

He pointed weakly, almost as an afterthought, to the jug of tea at his side. “That and to enjoy some hot tea without ten sycophants an hour needing me to sign something or approve this or that. Nobody will be looking for me here.”

“Or you.”

Word count // 979 = 19 || 34

She didn't like him in her world.

Too close to one of three places she had left to hide when she needed a moment to touch base with her human side.

Too close to the scarred remnants of a once happy home filled with love and laughter.

Too close to the few people she had left to protect and cherish in a world that had cruelly, viciously taken what she had loved one by one and turned them into enemies.

Or worse; corpses.

As he prepared himself, she wondered idly if he knew that gourd could be used against him as a weapon along with almost everything else in the vicinity.

Forced herself to focus on the scent of incense, familiar and soothing, and the comfort of thick wood and tatami beneath her bare feet. This was her territory. She had the upper hand in layout and background. She had the time to prepare-- and even now, the Fujimura would be unable to open door or window alike, sealed in until she knew the threat to their lives had gone.

They would be safe unless this man could overtake her own power and break her safeguards.

A gesture and she inclined her head in subtle, silent agreement to his inquiry. Moved with ghost-like steps across the tatami and sank with a liquid grace that betrayed her young face and small stature. Noble upbringing and old habits dying hard lent an old world feel to her movements as she settled into proper seiza, hands folded in her lap and waited with back straight and shoulders squared.

Studied him while he finished his own inspection, however covertly he wished to declare it as.

Takua had known this man and spoke of him in an interesting regard. Karaudo had known him very well and had sought to return to his side.

He had grown in the short time since that anticlimactic battle and its alarming conclusion, she noted. The depth of his soul deeper now than Hi-to's had been, and still a portion beneath that of the woman who had become something too like those in Las Noches' sky that night. She knew little to nothing of him, and even less of what he was capable of.

The white of his robe and the depth of his soul were all she had to go on, and that alone was enough to deem him worthy of lethal force should it come down to it.

His words were meant to lure her into a false sense of security, weren't they? She knew more about him, had his name and knew the reputation that Shinigami of such rank were usually capable of doing great things-- for good or ill for those in their cross hairs than he did regarding her.Her eyes narrowed slightly, an indicator she didn't quite believe him and her expression filling in the rest with barely polite skepticism.

To think I would have believed every word that came out of your mouth a year ago. The thought was a bitter one, shunted off to a dark corner where it belonged.

Amenonuhoko stirred, growled in response to her vehement rejection of it.

Picked up the steaming mug as if the liquid within weren't steaming hot and settled the stoneware bottom against the palm of one hand, other wrapped around its handle-less surface in traditional form. Even in the low lighting, the scarlet hue of her eyes held a soft glow as she refused the opportunity to speak-- letting him finish setting the stage for the act that was sure to follow.

This was far, far too close to many of those business meetings her father and mother had forced her to attend.

At first, the information didn't click into place. Absurd thoughts of 'why and how the hell did Sakuya manage to retain enough memory to slip into a Division and write my nickname down?' popped into place before the name clicked.

Captain Commander. First Division.

Kenshou.

Against her best efforts, Sekai's face contorted in response to the news. Right corner of her mouth twisted, threatened to pull up and bare her teeth in a grimace of distaste.

She'd been worrying over that matter every night, pouring over just how to approach the matter and who to approach first and foremost regarding the validity of his 'final command' and to get rid of the be damned haori of his she'd carried around for weeks now. Had washed it, resisted the urge to mend the destroyed sleeves to at least look a little more proper when returned, and ensured it wasn't dirty, bloodstained, or otherwise offensive to the senses.

There was no better look of 'I hate that nickname' and 'that man is a menace' than the one that flashed across her young face-- an opinion she almost suspected the Shinigami before her shared.

What he had bee--

Oh hell; they'd named this Fujikagi the new Captain Commander.

The sigh that slipped from her lips was mighty, drained a little of some of the tension from her shoulders. Some of the suspicion and tangible fear vanished entirely, replaced with a weariness and irritation that replaced it in a heartbeat.

Rich in emotions, this one.

"My greatest and most heartfelt of sympathies go out to you in your new role, Fujikagi-san." And she meant those words with everything she had in her; in both tone, body language, facial expression, and emotional fluctuation of a reiatsu held so tightly in check and low that it was nearly impossible to distinguish from the lives around the village itself.

Not, interestingly enough, a congratulations to his promotion in the slightest.

Blew against the rim of her cup and studied the steaming liquid as if it could tell her the future threatening to unfold before her very eyes. "You have been left with a foundation on which to build a new future." She offered by way of explanation, the tea too hot to drink even with the stone steadily absorbing its heat as she had politely asked it to.

"He told me to present this as proof," She lowered the cup to the tatami, allowed it to linger there as she reached behind her, collected, and slid the crisp, neatly folded Captain Commander's haori to the center 'line' that had been invisibly drawn between them.

Complicated series of emotions swarmed across her face and faded as she withdrew her hand from the garment and placed it back in her lap. "Why," she asked without giving hint to the answer. "would he waste the Gotei's time sending the new Captain Commander to track down someone who is not even properly listed in that registry?"

Picked up the tea, blew against it once more, and sipped carefully. Bitter and strong on her tongue. Lowered the cup to reveal a grim expression. "Why would he send you looking for a human woman who clearly holds Shinigami in poor favor?"

A pause as she studied the jug at his side, the weak afterthought of his actions, and back at the man who had claimed to be escaping for just an hour or two for a chance of peace and relative quiet.

Something new in her eyes, and it wasn't something this new Captain Commander would enjoy;

Pity.

–
WC: 1213
GP: 24

“Kenshou is, and in some ways ‘was’, a rather complicated man.” Tokiyo had been keeping his head forward but the haori this young mortal woman had placed between them was more than clearly displayed in the corner of his vision. It actually stung at his eyes a bit to see. Gnawed at his pride, maybe.

The opinions and tangible pity that billowed out from this woman did not catch him off guard for their nature, but rather the prime materia of their very existence. How did she come to know so much? How had she spent enough time on Kenshou Ine’s radar in order to earn something so symbolic? The only thing the former Captain Commander had even given him was a key, a headache, and a much worse Captain Commander to follow him.

He placed his hand on the fabric, touching it lightly, gently, as someone might run their hand over a shirt on display at a department store. It certainly looked authentic, and some so austere a gesture was befitting Kenshou’s style. He just wanted to know that it was read. To understand the very important fact that all of this was happening, or had happened, and was now unfolding before him.

Treason and Kenshou Ine were no strangers. Why not one more thing on the tally?

“Why?” His brow rose and fell above the right eye, in place of the shrug he denied his shoulders. “Great question. And it’s rather why I am here in the first place.”

Hoisting the stoneware cup to his lips he tossed back several mouthfuls of the scaling tea until the cup was empty, as he clenched his eyes shut and bore the pain of a draught far too hot for any sensible person.

The cup returned to the mat with a thud as every available nerve ending in the Captain Commander’s mouth and throat threw in the white flag and took a five minute break, and his eyes fluttered open again. It had taken his mind off the audacity of this entire conversation. And since his host was clearly of the skeptical, hostile, sort, vulnerability was really his only play.

“Why would a Captain Commander hand a haori, specifically reserved to go onto the shoulders of the most meritorious of Shinigami, to a deceptively normal shrine maiden? And then leave me with a vague a note that he had done so before fucking off to unknown places?” The lance of hostility that his words carried were not even remotely aimed at her, and the barbs present in his reiatsu would confirm. “Beats the hell out of me.”

He tipped the jug and filled his cup up once more, taking a large sip immediately before collecting himself and recollecting at least some of his manners. Afterall, he was a guest. And this wasn’t bourbon. “So maybe you would be willing to do me the service, a favor to us both really, of letting me know why he would give you that, so we can piece together why he would have lead me here?”

Word count // 511 = 10 || 44

’Kenshou is, was, has been, and will continue to be a monumental pain in the ass.’ Sekai silently translated Captain Fujikagi’s statement. Tatemae was ever present, even in Seireitei’s ranks, and for the first time since meeting anyone of spiritual relation, she felt back on something resembling solid ground. Practiced enough due to quite the old fashioned upbringing, she may not have been particularly apt at schooling her features into the polite neutrality or pleasantness required by Japanese societal rules, but gleaning the true meaning behind someone of Japanese descent’s words was something she could do with great ease.

Her eyes followed the careful, almost delicate touch against the stiff, heavy haori’s smooth surface. Respect for the garment, for the station it represented, and solemn acknowledgement of what the responsibilities such owners of the thing had to bear. Fujikagi had much to worry about and even more to unravel as he settled into his station.

In spite of her best efforts, she found herself empathizing with the man’s mounting frustration.

He’d clearly had more than his fair share of unexpected and unwelcome surprises, the least of which seemed to be his current position and the headaches she had no doubt said position inspired on a constant basis. Not easy, she thought with a glance back down to her tea, to have the fate of an entire world thrust upon you with little to no actual warning.

His blaise tone rankled her, spine stiffened in preparation to throw something equally flippant his direction--and stopped. Still steaming and with a temperature even stone couldn’t hide, he threw the nearly full contents of his mug back as if it were saké or something even stronger. Felt her shoulders drop, just a touch, and silently reached out with a voiceless command. He may have her on edge, his people still leaving much in the way of desired results, and her inherant distrust still brightly burning-- but she was not unsympathetic to that display.

Cut crystal manifested quietly at her side, the elegant decanter filled with rich amber-brown liquid, and she poured a generous two fingers worth into an equally elegant glass. Replaced the stopper and slid the offering forward to that dividing line between them.

He would want it for what was about to come.

”To do away with the tact and song and dance of foreign diplomacy, Fujikagi-san; it was the manner that capricious man used to test and ensure your attention was drawn to where it should be.” She would cheerfully kick Kenshou Ine square in the shins given the first opportunity presented.

She knew first hand how completely irritating his manner of doing things happened to be, having been caught in the undertow herself and not realizing it until she was far over her head. ”He ordered me to present that to his successor in order to prove what I am about to say as truth; if that is not sufficent evidence… I have two means in which to prove myself, though I would prefer not to use either.”

Just how was she supposesd to do this and not completely screw it all up?

Took a deep breath to ground herself. Mind and heart reaching to the great wisteria in the courtyard for a familiar touchstone. Exhaled.


”I am neither human, nor Shinigami; I walk the line between the two races with strengths and weaknesses of both.”

Do or die, Sekai.

Her shoulders were squared, expression relatively strong but for the clear tension and anxiety that practically radiated off of her. ”I am a bridge because of an incident that occured several months ago, the consequences of which only became apparent during my unexpected trial by combat by the Captain Commander himself-- one I would honestly prefer not to repeat if at all possible, but will if that is the means by which you choose to test my word.” She really hoped he wouldn’t take it as an option. She didn’t think he shared Kenshou’s penchant for curiosity.

”Due to unfortunate circumstances far beyond my control, I, Fujimura Sekai, have been tasked by former Captain Commander Kenshou Ine of the First Division as his final act as Captain Commander in mending the divide between Earth and Soul Society by means of being the conduit in which both shall call upon to defend against those who would threaten the already precarious balance.” She recited the words succinctly and carefully. Swallowed hard and pushed forward. ”My duties are to… to aid in the defense of and repairation of both Soul Society and Earth, stabilize political ties that have been corroded on both sides, and…”

Hesitation marked by a sharp, if brief, undercurrent of fear.

Kenshou’s orders had been absolutely clear and not all at once. ”and I am supposed to serve as the one who reminds you of what the Shinigami have forgotten in the era of corruption and degration that had befallen the ranks of the Gotei.”

Maybe she should have poured a couple of fingers for herself.

--
WC: 869
GP: 17

“Well,” He wrapped his fingers around the glass generously offered by his host. Her timing, and her assessment of the liquors prudence, were admirable. “I guess I can drink to that.”

Patience was always a trademark of his. It was very useful. Often times in even the most subtle ways people could be unnerved by the silence of someone patiently listening. If guessing were a thing he did, Tokiyo would suspect that others interpreted the silence as ‘he already knew the answer’ and was merely awaiting confirmation. Sekai, his host, who was clearly unintimidated in anything resembling the same way as the green soldiers he was used to, had a much clearer reaction to the silence: understanding.

Respectfully, her hostile demeanor had softened their dynamic into something neither of them had likely expected here today. The Captain Commander was not feigning ignorance or playing at some game, he was actually ignorant. And Fujimura was not feigning some illicit contract with Kenshou and a hyperbolic role as saviour of the universe, Kenshou had actually named her that. Or something like it.

The warming, tingling, almost burn, that would normally accompany a high quality liquor was deadened by the blitzkrieg the tea had made to his throat and he was free to appreciate the subtle flavors and qualities of the drink in a strange isolation he was not accustomed to. He would have to note for another time to try this process again!

He carefully set the glass back down onto the tatami mat, barely an audible clink as the two touched, and he folded his hands in his lap. “That’s a very curious choice of words he left you, given what he left the rest of us. Attitude, as they say, reflects leadership.”

Tokiyo could only smile faintly, almost tongue in cheek, as the irony of his moral grandstand against a thing his former Captain, former Commander, had wrought. “But that’s mostly my problem, for now. And I suppose slightly yours? Forgive my assumption but it seems by your language and careful recitation that this is role you have accepted? Given Kenshou’s swords are nowhere near your neck anymore, I wonder if you felt any duress in taking up this mission. Please tell me, my most gracious host,” he turned and offered her the courtesy of looking deeply into her eyes as he asked. “Is this something you want to do?”

Word count // 400 = 8 || 52

“Attitude” was a good descriptor for what she could only imagine the former Captain Commander was made of. Attitude and frustration. Something he seemed quite happy to have passed down, along with a healthy migraine to infect the minds of those around him for centuries to come.

A quirk of her mouth, subtle and quick, offered the suggestion of a smile at the toast made. The brief flash of tempered humor softened the tension hardening her eyes to something significantly more pleasant. Nowhere near at ease, of course, but no longer at the very fine line between hostility and wary defense.

Whatcha gonna do if he rejects you?

Hope to Hell and beyond that he wouldn’t decide to kill her or request she submit herself to death.

She hoped the fact that her spirit had chosen to pipe up, again, wasn’t written all over her face. I don’t know; do whatever feels right as a sort of but not completely Shinigami? Waited for the inevitable derisive comment to fly in her direction.

Instead, there was a flash of something that might have been pride. Approval foreign and startling in the woman’s normally harsh voice. Now that’s what I wanna hear!

Sekai didn’t notice the way her posture seemed to relax and reassert itself further at the spirit’s praise. Kept herself as steady as possible as the man before her took his time to collect his thoughts and placed down an easy assumption before her. Her brow furrowed a little, unease slipped into her features for reasons quite opposite to that of Fujikagi’s concern.

Kenshou Ine’s blades at her neck, or varying other parts of her body, hadn’t been the problem. His hand around her throat hadn’t presented much in the way of an issue either. That damned speed of his, on the other hand, had been the biggest complication in her fight and encounter with the man.

Well, that and his thrice damned excuse for a personality.

Stupid Kenshou.

A younger, more gullible version of herself might have blurted everything put from beginning to end. Would have revealed that she and Kenshou had been fairly evenly matched in the end and neither had even tried to go to their brink in order to truly fight. A mock battle meant to test and see what weaknesses could be found-- to see if the spirit and will were too weak to withstand what was to come.

The body could be mended if broken; the spirit not as easily so.

She wasn’t that naive child anymore.

A brief shake of her head to clear her thoughts. Fingers traced little patterns against the stone mug she held to give herself something to do. ”When a new leader enters the scene, only a fool would believe nothing changes.” Kept her tone even. ”What he ordered and what you choose to keep from his reign are two entirely separate matters; I have become, to borrow your phrasing, something of your problem now.”

A pause, something akin to another glimpse of humor that may have lurked beneath the diplomatic mask. ”It would be my personal preference to be considered as a potentially useful instrument, if not beneficial, but that is not a call I am at liberty to make in your stead.”

Lay out the materials of what you have to work with and see the possibilities that stretch before your eyes.

Ahh, the consequences of responsibility and duty; she did not envy him in spite of taking on such a mantle herself. ”I am unfamiliar with anything beyond… certain aspects that have been decidedly misconstrued by those who educated me in the past. That ignorance is why I journeyed to Soul Society-- to seek out someone who would be able to answer questions I had.”

Answers she was owed because of those misconceptions and her stupid desire to believe instead of question.

Swallowed hard, knew the names she needed to bring up were potential firestarters in a conversation that had only just reached a barely amiciable mood. Keep going. ”Former Captain Commander Kenshou enlightened me to a number of issues, ones that only served to drive the difference between Shinigami and, for a lack of better term, Spiritualists, home.”

She hated him dearly for that-- and the resentment, for one shining moment, was clear on her young face before twisting into something more complex.

”The attack on Karakura and many of the fatalities were not attributed to the King of Hueco Mundo, but were orchastrated by one of your own; Sakamoto Miki-san was named as the culprit.” The incident had left scars, was difficult to speak of even now-- and it would be beyond obvious that she had been heavily involved in that terrible day.

Resentment and regret; even Shinigami weren’t able to overcome the all too human trait of betrayal.

”That one of your own fell prey to corruption and lost himself, becoming a Hollow that works against Seireitei. Confirmed what I knew that Vaizards are an issue and a threat not understood.” hated herself for pursuing this.

The more she revealed, the more dangerous she would become.

The more likely she would be condemned to death. ”That through his actions, and whether or not he understands their price, that of the Captain who challenged, and lost, to Penance-san, Soul Society’s defenses are at an all time low and you all have never recovered from what Tova Diablo did to Seireitei a little over a year prior to what he unleashed on Karakura.”

Just like the mortal realm still reeling.

Just like the power void in Las Noches; Takua their only hope aside from maybe Nazomi and for certain Erasmus.

”I will tell you what I told your former Captain Commander; I am terrified that I will lend a hand in the ruination of Seireitei and end up causing more harm than good. I am young comparitively, I am, um, “emotional”, and I refuse to keep running from the consequences of my own actions-- and lack thereof-- and expect change to happen.”

Her eyes flared to brilliant color, the restrained energy within her beginning to bloom to life. Still a void in terms of senses, but there was drive and something more.

Determination.

And something deeper that she herself wasn’t even aware of. ”I am terrified, but I want to help. If this is not some freak accident, and even if it is, I have the potential to help two worlds patch up the holes in their defenses. I wish to make them stronger to prevent an incident where unneeded casualties will ever happen again.”

Karakura had been personal.

Seireitei had been a devestating reminder.

”Do you know what the biggest difference between Shinigami and Humanity happens to be?” Had he realized it yet?

Was he even ready?

...was she?

--
WC: 1202
GP: 24

Tokiyo remained facing forward, his elbows comfortably resting on his thighs as his hands bridged together underneath his chin. The posture looked a little bit awkward, yet somehow comfortable at the same time. He listed, although it was not that he had a lot of choice in the matter. Sekai still had the Commander very much at a disadvantage in all matters of information. The only real potential benefit he had here was his...experience?

But experience in what? He was considerably newer to this job than he his host was to her condition. Considerable more green in the areas of ‘running things’ than he would like to have admitted whether public or private. Of course, he couldn’t say as much. He just had to not rub in the obvious. The shrinemaiden seemed to have faith if nothing else. And he could work with that.

“I’d say it is the urgency of existence that is chief among the differences, but of course my answer would be colored by the life I’ve had and the faced I’ve met.” And that was his truthful answer in the simplest terms. Flighty, short things that couldn’t handle the idea of having to leave their meat-suits behind and moving on to something better. Spiritually aware humans always baffled him the most - they could literally touch the proof that there were things beyond their simple reality but they fought just as hard as anyone else to cling to that mortal coil.

Of course, they were not wrong to do so. Life was precious, is precious, and must not be wasted in laze or apathy. But that didn’t make them right either. The wisdom of age had given Tokiyo such a unique perspective that was truly impossible to share with someone so...nascent. The words Sekai had used spoke all that need be said to prove that.

The pragmatist within him leapt up to add more onto his response before she picked back up, he’d be remiss not to. “Which leads me nicely to something I feel is better left said than not. Do you know what happens to the filament that completes a circuit? Yes, it’s vital, but it also burns out. The heat and stress wear on it until it simply can take no more and it, well, just breaks down.”

He lifted his head from its comfortable rest and let his hands fall to their natural pose, dangling just above the tatami mat. “As someone who can appreciate the perspective of such burdens being channeled through you, I applaud your seemingly wholehearted acceptance of such a position, and even more so I can applaud the very prudent and careful reflection you’ve had about wanting to better the world around you.”

And at last he had arrived at the ‘piece de resistance’ or his brief reply. Every curious fiber of his being, every well-earned wrinkle on his face, itched with anticipation at how she would take this question. To know his host, to know her true heart, he would have to see for himself. “I understand there’s no way anyone at all could answer this with complete sincerity and honesty but...I’ll ask it anyway.“

“Are you okay with the price for doing this? If it were to go poorly, or especially if it were to go well?”

Word count // 551 = 11 || 63

Waited for him to finish.

Her eyes softened a little, something sad and gentle in the wake of the smile she offered in response to his initial answer. A sorrow-- an acceptance in gaze, what little of her aura she allowed to surround her, and in the little twist of her lips that spoke louder than words.

Yes, she said with her very being, she knew exactly what heat and stress could, and did do to a soul.

For a moment, her eyes searched his face, lingered on the lines of age at the corner of his eyes, his mouth, and then to his hands-- folded so carefully as they were with his chin resting upon them. Looked at him as if he were simply another living soul rather than someone who may very well become an enemy-- or a tentative and shaky ally in the moments to come.

Her eyes dropped for a moment to her own hands. Blood overlapped her own skin in her mind's eye, disappeared with the sound of crying, screams, and explosions while Hollow breeds tore apart her city.

Blood and the weight of lives not her own. Jian's image surfaced in her mind's eye. That of the blonde Quincy she'd found in the forests, young and scared and ill prepared. The white haired man who bore the world upon his shoulders, the fate of a damned people who never fit in. Pained blue eyes that disappeared like the warmth of him into the wind. A boy who rallied against his confinement.

Their lives, the lives of those they treasured-- human and not.

Fingers folded into her palms and she turned her wrists back to face the soothing color of the tatami. "There is no price you, Kenshou-san, or anyone in Seireitei have the capacity to ask of me that could compare to the consequences of running away these last three years has." The impact of her words and information within them may be lost upon the Captain Commander, he might catch on to them too quickly for her liking, but her shoulders remained squared and her gaze even.

Three years was terribly short, and her remaining time would be less than that-- a fact she could feel on a level she would never be able to explain.

"Time," She spoke softly to give the word greater weight in contrast to the earnesty and energy within her words prior. "is what separates us, Fujikagi-san. Not urgency of existence, not the number of experiences or trials we experience-- but the number of years we have at our disposal."

Her head turned to gaze over his shoulder toward the white world that waited outside. Snowy lashes lowering just a touch as she completed her thought. "Shinigami, and even Hollow breeds have time on their side. Time to grow. Time to make mistakes-- and to learn from them." Looked back to him with a little smile on her lips that suggested the revelation was something she hadn't anticipated anyone actually getting the correct answer to. "But the one thing we share, no matter how much you may have had, no matter how much you have left in your present life-- we all share the same desire."

Memories fleeting flashed through her mind. Meetings and partings-- so many partings and so many regrets with each life that no longer walked the path beside her own. "To laugh freely, to have a drink with unexpected companions," a surprisingly playful jab at his presence. "and to have those that make our lives worth the fight even just for a brief instance; we all want 'just a little' more time."

Hey. Stupid. You're forgettin' two things, remember?

Breathed and tried not to think of just how tempting it would be to ask the man what the best way to shut an obnoxious spirit up would be.

HA!

"I did, unfortunately, hear of some issue you had with one of my... fellow spiritualists. Oreachi Jian-san." She wondered what was Shinigami code for, 'I'm really sorry my subordinate is a complete idiot who acted rashly, please let me slap him back into line on your behalf and I will make sure he doesn't do it again unless attacked first'.

Fingers pressed together in a triangle and she slid forward into a proper dogeza, head lowered until it touched the back of thumbs. "I would ask that you forgive his foolishness and lack of proper instruction in the way of appropriately interacting with others; he is young, untrained, and has had no guidance-- much like many of those here on Earth. An unfortunate circumstance I am determined to remedy myself."

That would have to do-- and she would properly beat the headstrong boy back down to size if he continued to act in a manner which was ill fitting of the station he wished to elevate himself to.

Lifted her head a moment later. "...before negotiations may begin, that way you and I are well aware of the lines being drawn and the laws and rules to be followed, I have some what of an odd question that only you may answer." Seemed rather flustered in comparison to how she'd kept herself relatively under control.

What on Earth could she possibly have to ask that would get her so uneasy? It wasn't as if she were going to ask for his three sizes or if he were married or anything silly such as that!

...right? Humans, particularly human women, weren't that silly... were they?

"Did... did Karaudo-san make it back to you in good health?" The polite mask expected of Japanese society dropped to reveal true, honest anxiety and worry for the woman she'd met but briefly.

–
WC: 952
GP: 19

“Ah. Yes.” His tone and his head both drooped slightly the mention of Jian. It was a sore spot for Tokyio for a myriad of reasons, although it was by no means a delicate subject. The days of being angry or even borderline obsessive about ‘getting his man’ were behind him and so he was free to resume his normal flair for shrugging and saying next time. And something told him, as it always did with people of a similar nature that Jian displayed, there would be a next time.

“Whether or not I forgive him has no bearing on the fact he has been enjoying time he...probably did not expect to have after our last exchange. While you give wise counsel regarding the young man, I hope you understand if I withhold any forgiveness until I see what he has done with the time he found.” A brief twitch caught the corner of his mouth, not unlike a smile. “As you said, to want for just a bit more time.”

He drew a breath deeply, steadily, and exhaled at the same pace. “Speaking from personal experience, knowing you were about to be dead and then finding yourself suddenly not...will change a person. But…” He slapped his hands on his thighs softly and straightened his posture a bit as a few of the coals in his belly radiated a brief glimpse of their warmth.

“You asked about Karaudo-san, and we are both honored that you remembered. I wish to honor the full courtesy of answering, but I hope you don’t mind me speaking on her behalf.” The Commander broadened his shoulders and aligned his spine as straight as possible, allowing the full color of his reiatsu to flow freely from all of his chakra, exposing all of his spiritual self as he could, short of releasing the ‘private reserves’ that had no business being called upon in polite conversation.

Tokiyo glowed in a wonderful unity, from the crown to the sacral and it spoke to the state that he, and by extension her, had achieved together. But to be fair, it answered nothing for how they got here. “Her journey was a lonely one but she found friends and help when she needed them. She was always better at asking for that sort of thing than I could ever be.”

He had no choice but to smile softly as flashes of memory came and went like little bubbles. Karaudo in the bathtub, scrubbing off the soot of a crash landing…

The diner in downtown Tokyo that Souta had blown out trying to hunt down what he thought was Tokiyo, only to find an athletic, petite woman.

That alleyway where Takua cornered her and turned the fear of assault into the welcomed site of a hand in helping.

And finally that wicked eye from Sakamoto Miki as she stole her away and, in but a very small way, repaid part of what she had contributed to by giving them a chance to merge once again.

“And in the end, she did not, erm, [explicitly reach me in good health but we came out stronger for it. As independent a force as she can be, we are both stronger, smarter, healthier, and more wise together than we ever could be apart.” The reiatsu around his heart pulsed warmly, wholly, and well ahead of the words he wanted to speak. However, they only echoed the other’s message.

“Thank you. Sincerely.”

“While we were apart, each of us bled from a wound no physical aide could ever hope to repair. It would have killed her.” What he did not say, but his energy did for him, ‘and thus eventually killed me.’

Words left unsaid could fit in many contexts, but while your very soul was open to someone's discerning eye was probably not the best time to exercise restraint.  “I think it’s obvious, but I’ll say it anyway. I will never forget the kindness. I know she won’t either.”

And with that, his posture relaxed and the radiant aura curled back up, holding closer to its sources and steadying itself into a less taxing state for the Captain Commander.  After all, they had things to discuss.

Word count // 710 = 14 || 77

Her head inclined once in acknowledgment, though there was a tension to the corner of her eyes and mouth that suggested she had hoped to hear otherwise. What he gave in response was only fair, if still leaving the possibility of Jian's fate being one leaving Earth without another defender.  Expecting to die and then find oneself the opposite certainly did change a person; particularly when it kept happening. Could definitely empathize in that regard and wondered just how many times this particular Shinigami had found himself on the wrong end of a force much more powerful than himself to learn that lesson.

Her attention sharpened, listened as something caught in his words. A certain tone in combination with Karaudo's name lit the young woman's attention toward hopeful-- barely repressed eagerness to learn what had happened to the other woman.

Her eyes, however, caught what didn't show on the surface.

Sekai frowned, not entirely happy to hear that she'd had a lonely time of it. Maybe... maybe she should have insisted a little more strongly on accompanying her.

Show off. Amenonuhoko muttered, a sulky note within her tone as she pointedly snubbed the Captain Commander before her and his nearly perfect unity with his sooo perfect spirit. It wasn't like he was special or anything, his spirit was just a big softy, that was all.

Or he was less of a stubborn asshole like her own wielder.

Frown intensified not only at her spirit's attitude, but the news of their reunion being less than in good health and spirits for the both of them. His words, however, threw her. Brows furrowed as the answer to a very obvious question lay within the tale he told of their reunion.

Amenonuhoko gave her the best impression of a village idiot in the back of her mind. Oh my god you're as thick as your thighs and twice as dense. Karaudo is... was? his Zanpakuto Spirit; she and I are the same.

The same, sure, except she highly doubted that Karaudo made pithy comments and needling insults about sensitive subjects like bits of anatomy one was self-conscious over. She felt more than touch envious of the pair before her-- Karaudo was there even if she couldn't see her-- and the trust they had in one another.

I don't think you'd win that bet. She retorted, mood sinking further the more Sekai dwelled on the subject.

Are you bored or just in the mood to run commentary while I'm trying not to screw this up? Sekai fired back, growing annoyed with the silver eyed woman's penchant for chatter at the most inconvenient of moments.

Energy flickered, a gentle and warm light pulsated softly about the chest ahead of the Captain Commander's words.

For the first time in their meeting, something shifted within the inconvienant nuisance's demeanor. A smile, true and filled with relief, curved across her lips and lit her young face with a warmth she had shown Karaudo. Just with a distinct lack of almost sisterly scolding she'd put her through over what a 'proper' meal happened to be and the lecture about even headstrong battle maidens needing to take proper care of themselves after a long journey.

A shake of her head, cheeks flushed a little in embarrassment. Modest, this one, and either unused to praise or feeling herself unworthy of such in any regard. "There is not need; she was, even for the short time she was here, a friend." A friend connected to those she had held in such high regard she'd set herself up for misery-- but that hadn't been Karaudo's fault.

What had she said again? Something about not mistaking a glove for a pair of idiotic pajamas?

Felt her lips curve upwards again, amused, at the memory of her disgruntled and snappy response to mistaken identity and her own inability to understand the metaphor. "I only wish her journey back to you would have been less lonely-- and that it would not have lasted so long as to put the both of you at risk." Must have been frightening. To be in so control, so used to having their spirit with them and suddenly be bleeding from a wound no amount of energy or effort could stop.

Sekai also hoped that the Captain Commander's idea of a quality meal didn't match that of Karaudo's own; bread and water. Honestly. What, had they been in prison when they had been separated or something?

While the white haired woman's expression, and body language, had offered more than its fair share of information for her Shinigami counterpart to glean... her reiatsu didn't. Her soul could be seen in its kaleidoscope of shifting greens, but what that pattern may have meant, the intensity and ebb and flow of colors in regards to her emotional state?

They'd likely have better luck interpreting a strange, brand new piece of art than correctly reading her soul or getting even the slightest of feels from it.

His energy returned to a less... vulnerable state and steadied.

Back to business, it seemed.

"If you will pardon me for my ill mannered behavior," she began, hesitated after a moment. Resisted the urge to gnaw on her lower lip in reluctance. "...perhaps we may begin with what Seireitei needs most at this time, and go forward from there?" Her eyes focused directly on to his face, the overlap of his energy faintly darkening his outline.

He was the new Captain Commander and thus could lead Seireitei to prosperity-- or destruction depending on his vision.

Takua held this man in high regard. Others held him in similar manner. He had, if reluctantly, spared Jian when the idiot had done something he could have, and should have, been killed for.

What he thought Seireitei needed versus what Kenshou-san believed...

The game was back on, and she'd chosen to make the first move.

--

WC: 983
GP: 19

Without regard for the iron-clad control Sekai had over her own expression, Tokiyo had settled entirely back into his own state and demeanor. Someone had to make the first gesture, the first truthful leaps of trust, and as the guest on Sekai’s turf and the interested party who showed up without an invitation, it was on him. Nothing new for Tokiyo.

Now that their quiet reflections and emotional vulnerabilities had ended, the proverbial cork placed back on the respective jug, their eyes returned to one another’s so that they may face down their business with a more accustomed demonstration of intention. The shrine maiden’s question was earnest and it was a significant improvement; it seemed as if her efforts were as genuine as her words. Good. While this was obviously useful to the Captain Commander it was also obviously useful to improve their situation. There was a genuineness about her that he found...almost welcoming. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was no rush.

“What we need most is a safety and stability that my last three predecessors have sorely refuted with their careless attention and personal goals. As a people, and I hope you can me speaking on their behalf, we have grown very tired of looking over our own shoulders in the last handful of years.” While doubtlessly true, he was also acutely aware of the entitlement he spoke with that the scions of humanity could not empathize with. They saw so much less, knew so much less. So young. So much more vulnerable than Shinigami were. So…

So…

Green.

“I think what I may mean to say,” he sighed and turned his head for a moment as the words rearranged themselves in his head, and he refocused back onto her when he was ready. “Is that we have not been able to offer the amount of attention we’re accustomed to, or would like to, to the spiritual well being of Earth because we’ve had to dedicate such a premium of our efforts to new and very serious threats.”

“I know you’ve experienced many of the same prices these threats extort here in Japan, and Karakura Town.” He scanned her closely, intently, watching for the telltale signs of the anxiety such a statement might drum up. “It’s a difficult perspective for us to cope with, having to work from within before we can aid without, but we are close to fulfilling it. And I believe that you, Shrine Maiden and member of the First Division, are one of the steps we need.”

“We need your connections, your optimism, and your zeal for peace.”

Word count // 439 = 8 || 85

Beneath the pristine sleeves of her kimono, goose-flesh rippled into existence against her skin. Hair stood on end at the back of her neck as a sense of distance-- disconnect-- separated who she was in that moment to place her alongside a nameless, formless observer. Her brow furrowed in obvious concern in his phrasing and its implications; the chaos was coming from within the ranks, not outside of it as she had initially worried about.

That didn't bode well for the Captain Commander's goals-- nor her own desire for peace. Sekai's expression didn't dispute a single word of what Tokiyo spoke of in regards to his predecessors and his opinion thereof. His sigh earned him a look of warm, if slightly strained, understanding. Returning to Seireitei to see the scars of damage still glaringly apparent and festering wounds gone untreated had been a rude awakening.

Seireitei was a realm still clinging to order and law that ceased working centuries ago. Captains and leaders so used to the strict standards that had crumbled beneath their feet and left them seeking shelter and stability from the chaos that had befallen them.

Inevitable chaos, at that.

Like his own had moments before, Sekai's eyes closed briefly at the mentioning of Karakura. An expression close to a grimace followed briefly as she took a long moment to absorb his words and collect her thoughts.

Sekai's eyes opened, centered briefly on the cast iron candle holder in the corner to Tokiyo's left. Flame flickered unsteadily and reflected in the red of her eyes. "You need perspective unrelated to see what those too close to the situation may be overlooking, in other words."

One hand moved from her lap, rubbed absently against her arm. Tried to soothe the goosebumps beneath. Regret colored her expression, lent itself to the downward curve of her mouth "Karakura Town's destruction caused those who believed in the Shinigami to lose their faith." An odd way to start, perhaps, but there was a point to this. "When it was proven that we could not rely upon Shinigami to protect us, a naive and selfish assumption we have had for far too long, we began to look to other sources, and then finally, to ourselves."

Chaos was both hammer and anvil to the human world; turned those within it into a species that could, had, and always would, be able to adapt to consequences of their own making-- and that of those around them. "Adaptation is one of humanity's greatest unspoken talents; we change, thrive, and most importantly, we unify behind one another when faced with adversity in order to overcome." .

Sekai's eyes drew themselves back to Tokiyo's own face. Searched him carefully in both expression and fluctuation of his spiritual energy."From my standpoint, Fujikagi-san, you have an alarming number of Shinigami who project their own shortcomings on to others to assume responsibility for and sacrifice those around them in pursuit of power and personal gain as if they were Arrancar competing for an Espada position; and that, even above any Hollow breed, Quincy, or Vaizard is capable of, is what is tearing Seireitei asunder." Her voice was surprisingly strong, still mild and on the quiet side, but there was strength there that offered a glimpse into what she hid.

A glance down to the decanter she had summoned only a little while prior. Light reflecting off the faceted crystal and liquid within. ”Stability and safety will not come when your own people are waging war on each other.” A lesson humanity knew only too well-- and the mistake they continued to repeat each new generation as they had for centuries.

That strength in her voice grew alongside the determination in her gaze as she lifted it back and centered it with the Captain Commander as her focus. ”You mentioned the First Division, as the prior Captain Commander had in turn; what is the First Division and what are the members of it responsible for in comparison to the other Divisions?”

If it was change Seireitei needed... if it was an outsider's perspective...

Change and perspective she would bring.

--
WC: 687
GP: 13

“Yes, and it is precisely that brevity -- that yearning for just a bit more time -- that drives those in the World of the Living to adapt in any way possible to do just a bit better. I last just a bit longer.” He found himself nodding in agreement with a ‘wisdom’ from someone so much younger than himself, but there was no wound to his pride or embarrassment at having done so. Wisdoms were, as Tokiyo had come to understand, wonderfully universal no matter who said them. “To be just a little bit stronger…”

However, a question had been asked and still yet unanswered. Given that the shrine maiden was actually in the First Division, and given that Kenshou had apparently not clued her in as to both their purpose and her function within it, or left it as a cruel half-joke half-task for a successor to bring her up to speed...The Captain Commander quickly dismissed the budding reservation that maybe, just maybe, he was reading her into the situation too quickly for the better interests of all those involved.

There simply wasn’t time left to dawdle. Timing, prudence, and pragmatism had outvoted tradition and caution. Final count, three votes to two. Motion carries: spill the beans.

“The First Division,” he began with a cordial, almost rehearsed tone, but it quickly spiraled away from the memorized line in the handbook everyone had to read and repeat in academy. He was, after all, the boss now. It was whatever he said it was. “The First is a group of strategic thinkers who fulfill administrative roles for the rest of the organization. While all Shinigami are bound to sacred duties, such as the Soul Burial, we do try to keep others to their strengths.”

“Realizing that the foot soldiers of the Fifth, or the researchers and engineers of the Fourth, may be very good at what they do but unable to ‘run their business’, so to speak, the First is the mortar between those bricks which they very much need in order to be built up. They are a bridge of law and administration.” He nodded subtly as he finished his thought, to no one in particular.

“They are overseen by the Lieutenant of the First, who is Lieutenant in name only, while the Commander sees to their own set of duties.” Tokiyo fitted his hands inside of their opposite sleeves, covering his hands from sight while he wicked off the sweat on his palms. Between the hot beverages and the underlying tension that had perfumed the majority of their conversation so far, an anxious and nervous reaction had shown a couple symptoms, if only slightly.

“Various members of my staff are responsible for aggregating administrative paperwork. That is to say, they collect and organize budgets, inventories, mission logs, general data, and miscellaneous things that are generated by other divisions. In turn, we are the eye that looks at the big picture to find a use for it. And then we pass communication back to the other divisions, and facilitate bigger conversations, to sort of...make the wheels turn and get things where they need to be. Management, if you will. Although some are better at banishing the sense of entitlement a word like that can drum up than others.”  That was worth a knowing a smile.  He figured she would understand.

Word count // 561 = 11 || 96

Was it absurd to liken the Shinigami and Hollow to fantasy races? The former acted rather like traditional elves of modern folklore; standoffish, xenophobic to an extent, and more than a touch self-absorbed and convinced of their superiority in comparison to the mortal realm. Humanity was eternally 'young' while the Shinigami prided and lamented their extended lifespans and the bonuses it brought. Despite being rather human in personality despite those extra years themselves, if she were to give an unbiased look at the two races.

A little more time, a little more strength, just a little more power... Who hadn't thought such things in their lives at least once?

Even she, back in the most naive of moments, had wished for time and strength and power and more in hopes it would do what words alone could not.

She listened carefully to the recitation of what the division itself was. Jack of all trades but masters of none wasn't quite right, but they had a hand in... binding everyone together. To ensure what could be run smoothly was-- and to find the cracks widening and threatening that stability. Administration and management seemed about right; though she caught the reference towards some particular personality types' penchant for going too far with their duties.
Offered a soft chuckle, hardly more than a breath in nature, in response and incline of her head in acknowledgment to the Captain's comment.

In short; First Division was the irritating combination of Department Head and Human Resources for the entirety of Seireitei. Busybodies that would drive any who did their job well quite mad, and those who did it poorly into resentful frenzy.

"I will be beneath the command of your Lieutenant, then?" Hesitation. Trust was a difficult thing to foster even now. "Might I ask the name of this Lieutenant before I ask what my specific role in the division shall be?" Something in Sekai's gut twisted in asking. A sense of cold water rushing just beneath her skin in warning.

Why, though? Why this response?

The Captain Commander would have to have a good head for judgment to attain such a position of power. Would have to be able to have a good feel for people as a whole and be able to place and nominate them as appropriate.

I'm being paranoid again, aren't I? She reached, silently, out to the Zanpakuto Spirit within her and hoped for an affirmative. To hear her mocking laughter and some sort of snide comment.

Amenonuhoko said nothing and waited.

–
WC: 421
GP: 8

Age, apparently, still caught up to those with extended lifespans. Sekai winced in sympathy at the pop-crack of joints protesting the slow, steady rise from their settled position. She watched him collect his thoughts, straighten his garments into place, and offer his respects to the gods that may have kept their watchful eye on the sacred grounds. A grin offered alongside the explanation, her head inclining in agreement to the sense it made; a Lieutenant should be sure to have all their ducks in a row and ensure things run smoothly so the Captain can turn their attention to the most pressing of ma--

Sekai's expression spoke volumes, her face paling noticeably as alarm flashed across her eyes. A hasty drop of her gaze, darted to the mirror and offering set with incense still drifting lazily in mysterious patterns around it. Voice of the gods; a miko's profession and sworn duty. Messengers for those who could not contact the divine powers themselves-- a bridge between two worlds. Sekai was finding herself a little tired of all the signs and hints that she'd been 'destined' for this stupid role cropping up everywhere she seemed to turn.

So... you gonna tell 'im or leave that detail unspoken to bite both of you in the ass later? Amenonuhoko asked. Her voice uneasy and an awkward shift in response to hearing the name of someone who had entirely too much power for their own good.

He continued onward-- an officer, apparently, and one free to operate as she would within the limits of her power and skills. An official, if subtle, sign of approval from him to do what was necessary to ensure things would build themselves, rapport wise, between the two worlds with as little fuss and casualties as possible. A device would be given to her, orders delivered via those and by the black butterflies she'd become so fond of-- even with the painful memories associated with them.

"An ordeal I am certain will require proof of word through action and results." She replied, acknowledging the slow to change and the resistance she was likely to face. "Dare I assume that introducing myself to your present set of Captains would be ill advised?" A question she was sure would be a resounding yes.

Of the five, Tokiyo himself included, she could particularly foresee great issue with two of the Captains that would not particularly end well. A third, however, had possibility even if the thought of encountering her was... troubling. The fourth, on the other hand....

Well, she had some sort-of apologizing to do. Sort of. She still believed it their fault for not announcing themselves and attacking on sight rather than try a diplomatic approach. And it was her fault that she was even having this meeting and thinking of these things. Maybe they'd both have to apologize, at the same time, and just call it good from there.

She didn't really think it'd work, but it might be worth a shot. Maybe.

Probably.

A blink, momentarily distracted by the request to see her tree. Why on Earth did he show such a vested interest like Karaudo? It wasn't an odd tree, not that she could tell anyway. An old one such as that would naturally have something unusual about her-- as Sekai preferred to think of the massively entwined vines and solid trunk as. "Eh? Of course, but that child, while ancient, isn't terribly unusual... is she?"  Maybe she'd missed something, being so accustomed to the comforting presence and faint spiritual power of the gigantic wisteria that she may have overlooked something truly unique and special that a practiced, well trained eye could spot. She rose herself, the decanter and tea cups vanishing without so much as a sound back to where she could wash them after her guest departed.

The odd hybrid left only the smallest of footprints behind as she walked. The dark blue shadow of the tree against the crisp white blanket of snow and pale lilac-white petals offered a contrast the likes of which would catch a photographer, or artist's, eye.

Her hand reached outward, as usual, and brushed against the gnarled, rough bark in greeting. Sekai's expression, and the tension in her body, softened significantly. A soft greeting, nearly inaudible, to 'the child' filled with great fondness and reverence for something that had survived every disaster and malady that had stricken the mountainous region for a minimum of three centuries. As a result, those in the area had come to even pay reverence to the wisteria as if she herself happened to be a minor deity.

The tree, in return, seemed to respond outright to her presence. A transference of energy between them, the tree giving and taking from her simultaneously as physical contact established between them. Communication seemed likely, even if the tree's thoughts, and feelings, were slow to come in her old age. An aura the same color of her flowers, the tree had a very faint, but potent, pressure of her own that slipped freely into the shrine grounds around her. Bled off excess from her stores into the land to ensure its fertility and health as well as its own.

She let him examine her favorite place in the entire shrine. Warred with herself as to whether or not she was going to talk-- or to comfort him into believing the lie that all was well, as could be, within Seireitei.

Part of her said it served them right, being so arrogant as to believe the same mistakes would never happen twice-- that they could catch and read the intentions of everyone. Another part of her firmly rejected the notion. Citing the claim that trust would have to be built, would need to be established in such a manner that they would believe she was on their side and true to her own word.

What would she do? What should she do?

What would you want in his shoes?

Her stomach clenched at the question. Eyes closed in a wince as the answer came to her mind almost instantly.

She would certainly want to know-- and in theory, so would he, in all likelihood.

"Fujikagi-san?" Sekai began, voice only slightly trembling. Nervous? But for why? She'd been rather well composed, passionate and a bit biting as was her due thanks to prior experience, but not nervous the way she was now. "About your... your Lieutenant..."

History was so close to repeating itself that it terrified her.

Quietly, surrounded by a biting wind and a thickening fall of snow among the wisteria's sheltering branches and draping blossoms, Sekai told the Captain Commander what she knew of the one called Robert Muhle. Of 'something dark' lurking within him that she couldn't place, but was troubling-- and of his affiliation and alliance with Las Noches as one of the King's Espada.

Just like Miki Sakamoto.

–
WC: 1151
GP: 23