Shenanigans of Two Spirits [Niji / Shinpei]

Shinpei loved those little inconsistencies and contradictions. People, he found, often tended to fit into characters. He was no psychologist: he couldn't really tell you why that was. All he knew was that if you saw a prim and proper businesswoman, she often had a certain set of personality quirks. Usually she was strict. Usually she was withdrawn but explosive. Usually she was just a little bit insecure about her appearance.
But sometimes there were little wrenches thrown in the mix: the businesswoman wouldn't be insecure, or she would be unwilling to speak up, or she would put on a good face at work but cry and cry at home, or she would go running every morning to clear her head.

These weren't things that most people did but they were things that this woman in particular would do, and that was special. It made her her, and more to the point it made her more interesting to be around than your average, non-conflicting individual. After spending so much time with so many women, they all tended to blend together.
Most of them, anyway.
There were those that stood out. Often, it was because he was able to discover those interesting things that were part of them and no one else.

I mention all this because it's a little more important than most everything else I could be telling you about, like the weather (which was quite pleasant, a little balmy) or the time of day (a little after one in the afternoon) or, especially, the way he was coming and going.
Maybe Shinpei was traveling from a cafe, or more likely he was coming from a bar. Maybe just out walking in the town. And maybe he was going to a female friend's house, or maybe to a fun little party--but most likely, he was going home to rest in his bed and the arms of this week's lovers.
He was that kind of man, after all. So it doesn't matter all that much what the specifics were.

All this is building up to the reason that he did say yes when she asked him. Would he have accepted the offer of drinks with just any woman? Absolutely not. They had to be cute. They had to be interesting. They had to be sexy.
And Shinpei could see in this woman some of those contradictions that were all three of the above. Her carefully-colored lavender hair and striking eyes contrasted sharply with the rough hands she clasped before her. Her somewhat eccentric clothing, yet her manners. Her measured voice, yet her wide eyes.

Shinpei faced her with an easy smile, the lazy summer breeze tousling his messy black hair. He bowed to her as well, much less low, his eyes tracing over her and liking what they saw. He was the very image of a feckless playboy, caring little for any possible tomorrow. All he was interested in was enjoying himself: he had a one-track mind. Always had.
Although I don't think you know what that means yet.
He folded his arms and regarded her with a grin. "Drinks? Well, how could I say no--"

I have to confess: I lied to you. None of this preamble was necessary. The second he processed the odd request she made of him, his eyes widened and he grabbed her shoulders, face ecstatic.
"Play-date? You mean like together? Like away from us?" He let out a long whistle, letting her go and wiping a film of imaginary sweat from his forehead. "By all means, take him. Take him, take him. Keep him if you want. Be my guest."

Douji bit his lip but said nothing. He knew better than to say much of anything these days.

The feeling of absolute freedom was already washing over him. "Hurry, what are you waiting for? Let's get this show on the road!"

He could tell he'd taken the woman by surprise when he grabbed her, but she recovered with a laugh. They were both in fine spirits, and why shouldn't they be? The sun was shining, the day was perfect and as far as Shinpei was considered, his life had just taken a marked upwards turn.
He could scarcely contain himself. He went spinning away from her and raised his head to the sky, grin large and infectious. "A couple moments of silence!" He crowed. "I'll drink to that."

"A great hole in the wall, you say?" He considered the offer, tapping his chin dramatically. Positively manic. He got like this every now and then when something really excited him: he had so little moderation in most affairs. He had a one-track mind, after all. He only ran on a single line. He could only ever focus on one thing at a time. If he ever managed to juggle--well, he wouldn't be Shinpei.
Maybe he'd have lived longer that way.
"Normally I might say yes," he told her. "I might say, 'sure! Let's go wherever you want, it'll be a fun adventure.' Or he'd say it at least. Me, I say we go to an old favorite of mine." He leaned in and raised his eyebrows at her, grinning as he stage-whispered to her ear like it was the biggest secret in the world. "It's the exact opposite of what he'd want. No more 'new,' no more 'novel.' We're going to go somewhere I have a history with."

He took her hand without any further delay and tugged her along like a balloon, humming something to himself as she probed him. He was so bubbly that he even the mention of his brother (normally an instant mood-killer) couldn't bring him down. "Hmm, what's to say?" He pretended to give it a thought, then answered. He always had been the best with these flippant kind of answers--on the surface they meant one thing, deeper they meant another, and all together they were a clever kind of joke.
He never had been very good at being honest, although he tried to make it obvious when he lied. It was little quirk of his, like a swordsman who fights with his left hand. Why? Maybe he wants to lose. Ask him.

"Not much to say about me. I am exactly like I look," he laughed, shaking his slipper as he held a foot out. "Believe all the rumors you hear, almost. I like women. I don't like my brother. I like flowers, although I never did figure out if I prefer admiring them or plucking them."
He scratched his scalp a little sheepishly, shooting her a sidelong glance. "I'm not the kind of person who believes in 'Ms. Right:' you could say I'm more interested in 'Ms. right now.'"

"But that's enough about me," he told her as he raised his arm to pull her into a twirl in the middle of the dusty street. "I keep less than an iota of a tab on my sad excuse for a brother, but I'm still surprised I haven't heard a peep about a girl like you. Where did you come from? Fall from the sky?"
He wasn't quite cheesy enough to say a line like "did you fall from heaven?" but--oh, who am I kidding? Of course he was that cheesy every now and then. He loved silly little lines like that.

As he led her to the little cowboy western-themed bar hidden away in a nook of the city, he noticed she was guiding him now and then to take a more roundabout route. Not that he cared: far from it! In his opinion, the longer they spent without voices chattering away in their heads the better.

\\\ -- \\\

A very large, very tall wall stretched on forever and ever and ever and ever. It was so wide, and so thick, and so hard. It was immutable. It was unbreakable. It was immovable.
But it wasn't a wall. Not really. For one thing, it had a face.

Douji was a blonde-haired, cheerful boy who laughed as easy as he breathed. He was chipper, he was bubbly, and he was a human spring. He loved new things so, so, so much. Of course his world was chock-full of all sorts of newness: it took the form of a thousand million different rooms, each completely different from the others. A tatami mat in one. A Dojo in another. A shooting range in another. A room full of playpen balls. An indoor garden.
All sorts of things, all locked away by that wall. Douji sat alone in a boring (interesting enough on its own, but long since grown tedious to him) Japanese-style room with a little table in the middle and a rice paper screen closed tight.
The room itself was beautiful but the only ornamentation was a small shrine in the far wall and a scroll hanging on the opposite one. It read "love," but it's too early to tell you why.

Are you surprised he leapt for that doorway when it appeared?

The group fell upon him instantly, but they didn't find a vivacious boy with a sparkling smile and golden hair. Instead they were greeted by a shivering, empty-eyed child with dull-colored hair, pale skin...
curled up in a ball.
He trembled and opened one eye, then the other, slowly rising to his feet. He looked at the people around him with obvious mistrust, then singled out the woman resting to the side of the group.
"Who--" he asked shakily, then swallowed and coughed. "Why are you doing this?"

Every time another figure moved towards him, he winced. If he'd been sporting a few obvious bruises, he'd have been the very picture of a battered child.

    "A couple moments of silence!" Shinpei crowed. "I'll drink to that."

    "So yours never shuts up either?" Niji laughed,"I swear my Spirit spends half her time with her mind in the gutter, and the other half trying to talk me into doing stupid things for stupid reasons."

    When he said they were going to a place that he had history with, mostly as something to annoy his Zanpakuto, she gave a chortle before giving a laugh filled reply, "Sounds like a plan." 

    She let herself get dragged along, giving a little playful skip as Shinpei hummed a little something to himself as she probed him for questions. From the feel of his aura when she talked about his brother she could sense that it was a sore topic. Maybe he'd be the talkative drunk and let loose about the bad blood between them, but she was getting juicier stuff learning about the other facets of himself, "Not much to say about me. I am exactly like I look," he laughed, shaking his slipper as he held a foot out. "Believe all the rumors you hear, almost. I like women. I don't like my brother. I like flowers, although I never did figure out if I prefer admiring them or plucking them.

    "I'm not the kind of person who believes in 'Ms. Right:' you could say I'm more interested in 'Ms. right now.'"    

    While they were walking downwards, Niji felt herself loosen up considerably. Maybe it was the playful spirit of the evening, knowing they were going to finally be free of listening to their overly vocal Spirits. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't stiff, and more laid back, at least from her opinion, than she was initially expecting. Possibly even the fact that she was going to get soused, but all in all, she didn't feel the need to watch herself as much as she initially did when she asked him for a perfect opportunity of freedom. 

    "So you like being comfy. But I wouldn't peg you for a total womanizer, but I'm also not the type to judge. If you and the woman you're with know that it's a short, mostly physical thing. Then as long as you're happy, and it's not hurting anybody, I don't see what the problem is ... although I wouldn't know about a Ms. Right or a Ms. Right-now," Niji replied with a cringe, "my own love life's so non-existant that it's not really dead, as wherever dreams go to die.

    "Still, you seem like a pretty decent person. So if some of them are false, I'll ignore the less pleasant ones. After all everybody deserves a fair shot to show who they are, rather than being judged on what others think," Niji replied with a pleasant smile, and small tilt of her head. 

    "But that's enough about me," he told her as he pulled Niji into a twirl in the middle of the dusty street. "I keep less than an iota of a tab on my sad excuse for a brother, but I'm still surprised I haven't heard a peep about a girl like you. Where did you come from? Fall from the sky?"

    "Where'd I come from? Hmmm ..." Niji said as she tapped her chin, stage whispering dramatically, "you can say I'm a mystery!"

    "Seriously though, you can say that I'm from a little bit of everywhere and that I've lived an adventurous life," Niji said playfully. It was close enough to the truth, without actually saying much, "As for fell from the sky," Niji added with a chuckle, "you must spend a lot of time on earth to learn their cheesy pick up lines. I'll give you points for effort."

    Niji! I need you to ask if we can keep Douji!

    Seriously? Why would I ask that?

    Just do it already. Oh! And tell him I'm mad at him.

    I'll ask, but if it was something that made you mad I'm sure it was a good thing.

    I'm normally a very patient, and happy individual. But I'll warn you this one time, if you ever say that again I'll make you regret it someday.

    Pfft. If you say so. Anywho go back to doing whatever it is you were doing. I'll ask.

    "Sorry I spaced out there for a bit. Oroppoi says that she wants to keep Douji, and that she's mad at you. Don't know if it's scary or amusing that you know of the few lines she doesn't cross, you'll have to tell me about that so I can see if I can't pull it off on her," Niji relayed. 

    It wasn't too much longer till they reached to bar. When Niji walked in she let out a whistle as she looked around the place, it had a set up she wasn't familiar with. With a hardwood floor and tables, laqured to a shine, a cow's skull mounted above the bartender's booth, and a truly impressive selection of drinks lined up on the wall. Niji looked around drinking up the aesthetics while asking, "I've never seen this type of set up, what type of bar is this? And please tell me they serve something stronger than Saketinis." 

Shinpei rolled his eyes. "Never shuts up? That's an understatement. Yap, yap, yap. He goes on and on and on if you don't shut him out. I don't envy your spirit for having to put up with him."

He was glad to see her relax as they walked. He didn't know if she was taking in some of his careless personality, but whatever the reason it was just fine by him if she wanted to let it all hang out. He liked things when they were simple like that, although complicated wasn't half bad either.
He had lots of favorites.

The road turned and curved, the path mostly untreaded. Instead of the crowds they'd find on main streets, they found only the occasional passerby--a mix of people simply trying to avoid prying eyes and people taking little shortcuts. He didn't mind going off the beaten path: he knew this place like the back of his favorite girl's neck.
So he laughed when she shared her impressions of him. "Not a total womanizer, huh? If you took that away, I wonder what would be left." His eyes glinted. "You've got a good head on your shoulders," he complimented her. "I do try to be pretty honest. And honestly, if your love life is dead then you've come to the absolute best place!"

He didn't say much about her non-judgmental attitude. Believe it or not, he'd heard this particular song and dance before.. Sometimes people meant it, and sometimes they didn't.
He was close-lipped about his secrets.

Shinpei pulled her close with the spin, then twirled her away again in a simple Rag dance step. "I like mysteries!" He exclaimed, holding onto her hand as they stretched to a full extension. "Although I like it when things are simple, too."
It was true: he had favorites, but they were rarely so highly esteemed that he couldn't enjoy their opposites. He loved black hair; blondes were just so cute. He couldn't get enough of sternness; warmth and love were exquisite. You'd have to go really searching to find something he absolutely hated (besides his brother).

"Believe it or not," he led her further along the alley, "I did just spent almost a year on Earth. I know the cheesiest lines, ones you wouldn't believe ever succeed. Stuff about the weight of a polar bear, shirt material, and pizza." He grinned. Shinpei had tried them all, of course, and more than a few of them had worked. Maybe the girls he'd approached had sensed that he was just having so much fun saying something so cheesy.

Suddenly his companion looked distant and fell quiet: he eyed her for a moment, then walked on. After a moment she snapped back to reality and he waited for her explanation. All he could give her was a shrug when she told him her spirit was angry.
"Don't know what I can tell you. I just don't pay much attention to him. Keeps him from yapping on and on. If you're annoyed by your spirit, just focus on something else. Works for me. As for keeping him..." it was a tempting offer, but he felt like there had to be a catch somewhere. No deal could be that good. But it could. Yeah, maybe, but it wouldn't hurt to puzzle it over a little more. "Let me think about it."

He led them the last little bit to the bar and grinned as she looked around the place in obvious interest. "A cowboy bar! Not that we have any cowboys in the Seireitei or maybe ever did, but it's always been good to me." He gave a nod to the bartender, who tipped his ridiculously oversized cowboy hat. "Let's get a seat."

He picked a small table and pulled out her chair, then sat in his own. He called to the bartender: "Whiskey Sour for her, Old Fashioned for me." Then he turned back to her, relaxing in his seat as if this was the most natural place in the world for him to be.
"The drinks here are excellent. Come for the decor, stay because you're falling over after a few sips."

"So what's the deal? You go running around looking to chat to Zanpakuto Spirits or something?"

\\\ -- \\\

When the spirits faded, Douji slowly rose to his feet. He didn't relax immediately--instead, he cautiously scanned the room, flinching slightly whenever he caught sight of so much as a flickering shadow.

He watched her warily too, until she snapped her fingers and changed the room around them. Then he cracked a little smile and just a bit of that childish innocence returned to his eyes.
"So you can do rooms too," he murmured. "I like this kind." He added the last bit and clamped his mouth down tight as if he feared he'd said too much. Faltering, he sat down by the Kotatsu and made himself comfortable. Douji breathed out a short sigh and stuck his legs underneath the heated table.

"I like new things," he explained with a little smile. "This is fun, being here."

He looked a little more peaceful, a little more human--so to speak. He relaxed more and more as the spirit talked to him, each word convincing him further that she wasn't a threat. He even blushed and fidgeted a little when she offered to take him in. He looked down, opened his mouth then closed it. He didn't know quite what to say.

What did he do, anyway?

Douji's head jerked up. He fought for words and finally managed, "he didn't... do anything." Her words seemed to have galvanized him into action: he rose to his feet, scrambling out from under the Kotatsu. "Please," he begged her, eyes wide and frightened, "I have to go back. I have to before it's too late."