Post by Kionchi on Nov 28, 2016 0:13:42 GMT -5
"Sir, you can't -"
The officer froze mid-sentence as he stared into the man's eyes. He'd torn into the First Division and silently marched into Tokiyo's personal offices, slipping through the Raven's barriers as though they were made of rice-paper. The assistant had pleaded for him to stop, but it wasn't until Kionchi had donned the Hoari of the Captain Commander that he felt compelled to turn and silence the nuisance with a single, domineering stare. As far as both were concerned, that was the true test of leadership. Not a web of favors or even an overwhelming spiritual pressure. But rather the awe they inspire without saying a word.
A minute later he was marching out of the First with his new subordinates in tow. He’d met a number of them over the years, unsurprising given the insular nature of the Court of Pure Souls. He’d spent decades building up his social currency as a loyal soldier to the establishment that had repeatedly torn him away from those he loved. Perhaps a lesser man would have taken out some of that resentment on Tokiyo’s quarters. But it was that restraint, that absolute control over his composure, that gave him the clout he needed to don the hoari of his one-time mentor. Besides, he’d much rather ruin a man’s legacy than his wardrobe. And he’d have plenty of time to do that.
It wasn’t until he reached the bottom of Sōkyoku Hill that he began to feel the weight of the linen on his shoulders. But it wasn’t the kind of burden he’d had expected. On the contrary, it was as though he was being encouraged by those he promised to protect. And with each passing step, he found himself fighting the urge to smile, his quickening pace distancing himself from the sizeable crowd gathering around the sheer peak. The view was more breathtaking that he could imagine, the Shakonmaru shimmering as though it too was celebrating his triumph.
Is this what he meant by living like a dragon?
His anger for Shun seemed to subside just a minute as he recalled the Minamoto’s advice. The feeling quickly waned as he felt his mother’s eyes watching him, memories of what Shun did to her souring his old Captain’s advice. Why did he even bother staying a shinigami once he learned the truth? Lightly shaking his head he recalled all the opportunities he had this last year to leave his life as a shinigami behind. But each time he told himself he couldn’t abandon the souls he promised to protect. But honor and duty and compassion aside, standing atop that hill he had to finally admit to himself that ultimately he was doing this for himself.
“Shinigami of the Gotei Five,” His voice projected as he turned to face the crowd, one hand on his zanpakuto and the other shining on his throat, a low-level bakudo. “I regret to announce that our former Captain Commander, Tokiyo Fujikagi, has been killed in battle. As my mentor and close personal friend, he will be missed, and his name will not soon be forgotten.”
There was a moment of silence as Kionchi closed his eyes and took a minute to scan the crowd. As far as Kionchi was concerned, The Raven had died the day Kionchi resolved to take his head. But he wasn’t about to make any enemies this late in the game, and he had to keep on his toes if he was going to maintain his position long enough to get what he needed.
“But it is with high hopes and a sense of duty that I take up his mantle during this time of reconstruction and mourning. We must remain diligent. We must always move forward and continue building upon the legacy we’ve inherited. I’ve already prepared missives to alert those shinigami still on patrol, and Captains will be assembled immediately. In the meantime, take a page from our former Captain Commander’s book and remember to never let sentimentality get in the way of progress.”
Back in the First, a single piece of paper was held in place by a familiar jade seal. Four words were scrawled across its surface, ink still wet:
707/707
The officer froze mid-sentence as he stared into the man's eyes. He'd torn into the First Division and silently marched into Tokiyo's personal offices, slipping through the Raven's barriers as though they were made of rice-paper. The assistant had pleaded for him to stop, but it wasn't until Kionchi had donned the Hoari of the Captain Commander that he felt compelled to turn and silence the nuisance with a single, domineering stare. As far as both were concerned, that was the true test of leadership. Not a web of favors or even an overwhelming spiritual pressure. But rather the awe they inspire without saying a word.
A minute later he was marching out of the First with his new subordinates in tow. He’d met a number of them over the years, unsurprising given the insular nature of the Court of Pure Souls. He’d spent decades building up his social currency as a loyal soldier to the establishment that had repeatedly torn him away from those he loved. Perhaps a lesser man would have taken out some of that resentment on Tokiyo’s quarters. But it was that restraint, that absolute control over his composure, that gave him the clout he needed to don the hoari of his one-time mentor. Besides, he’d much rather ruin a man’s legacy than his wardrobe. And he’d have plenty of time to do that.
It wasn’t until he reached the bottom of Sōkyoku Hill that he began to feel the weight of the linen on his shoulders. But it wasn’t the kind of burden he’d had expected. On the contrary, it was as though he was being encouraged by those he promised to protect. And with each passing step, he found himself fighting the urge to smile, his quickening pace distancing himself from the sizeable crowd gathering around the sheer peak. The view was more breathtaking that he could imagine, the Shakonmaru shimmering as though it too was celebrating his triumph.
Is this what he meant by living like a dragon?
His anger for Shun seemed to subside just a minute as he recalled the Minamoto’s advice. The feeling quickly waned as he felt his mother’s eyes watching him, memories of what Shun did to her souring his old Captain’s advice. Why did he even bother staying a shinigami once he learned the truth? Lightly shaking his head he recalled all the opportunities he had this last year to leave his life as a shinigami behind. But each time he told himself he couldn’t abandon the souls he promised to protect. But honor and duty and compassion aside, standing atop that hill he had to finally admit to himself that ultimately he was doing this for himself.
“Shinigami of the Gotei Five,” His voice projected as he turned to face the crowd, one hand on his zanpakuto and the other shining on his throat, a low-level bakudo. “I regret to announce that our former Captain Commander, Tokiyo Fujikagi, has been killed in battle. As my mentor and close personal friend, he will be missed, and his name will not soon be forgotten.”
There was a moment of silence as Kionchi closed his eyes and took a minute to scan the crowd. As far as Kionchi was concerned, The Raven had died the day Kionchi resolved to take his head. But he wasn’t about to make any enemies this late in the game, and he had to keep on his toes if he was going to maintain his position long enough to get what he needed.
“But it is with high hopes and a sense of duty that I take up his mantle during this time of reconstruction and mourning. We must remain diligent. We must always move forward and continue building upon the legacy we’ve inherited. I’ve already prepared missives to alert those shinigami still on patrol, and Captains will be assembled immediately. In the meantime, take a page from our former Captain Commander’s book and remember to never let sentimentality get in the way of progress.”
Back in the First, a single piece of paper was held in place by a familiar jade seal. Four words were scrawled across its surface, ink still wet:
Tsukiyo Kionchi, Captain Commander
707/707