"You've been a Captain-less Lieutenant for ninety-one long, long years," Shunsui says, cracking open a sake bottle and starting the celebration without Shion even sitting down. Which is a bit of an intrusion, seeing as this is happening on Shion's own porch.
"That is...true," Shion says.
"That's what I'd call an achievement," Shunsui continues airily. "First ever in the Seireitei since we even got the idea of having lieutenants. Wonderful business, people who do boring chores for you. Glad we thought of it."
"It's a peculiar system," Shion says, sitting down next to Shunsui and helping himself. The Captain of the 8th has been keeping a much closer eye on him during the last few decades. It can't be helped. "Recruiting so many shinigami when all of the power resides in a handful."
"Two handfuls, at least," Shunsui agrees merrily. "You don't see the point, Lieutenant?"
"It gives people the opportunity to grow," Shion says. "Shinigami swords reflect their wielders. If Soul Society didn't exist..." They smile cheerily. "There would just be a bunch of warlords, right? And then a lot more isolation. The way hollows do it."
"Saying a Shinigami Captain is no different than a Vasto Lorde..." It's clear Shunsui doesn't really care about this description. "If that were true, then I'd be unable to drink good alcohol!"
It's a nonsense answer to a nonsense observation. Shunsui doesn't even let it pause his word flow before moving onto his actual course of attack.
"We've got a captain candidate for you, Lieutenant."
Shion's eyes snap up to meet his.
"Really," they say.
"You've heard about him. Young Toshiro Hitsugaya? Unlocked bankai not five years ago-- that's about 55 years since he left the academy. Everyone's saying he's the next genius since Gin came along."
"How scary," Shion says. "Even Gin took... What? 70 years past his graduation to achieve bankai."
"It's a promising new era for Soul Society," Shunsui says. "However."
He sets the cup down.
"There was considerable pushback, when the idea of him becoming Captain of the 12th was floated in the latest captain's meeting," he says, voice idle.
"Oh?" Just a bit of edge that escapes past Shion's tongue.
"Jushiro's just a little worried about the prospect, you see. Now, I don't want to alarm you or anything, but... there are some superstitious folks in the Gotei 13. Gin went as far as to claim that he thought the 12th's captains' seat might be under a terrible curse that would kill anyone who tried to claim the seat."
"I didn't know Gin was so superstitious," Shion says.
"Neither did I!" Shunsui says. "And dear Miyako was quick to say that there was no way the seat is cursed...however... even if it wasn't cursed...perhaps Hitsugaya could use some more seasoning as a 3rd seat before ascending."
"Maybe that would be a good idea," Shion agrees blandly.
"But, Lieutenant, despite all the passionate objections presented! Do you know who wasn't swayed?"
"Was it you, Captain?"
"Good guess! But no. It was Captain-Commander Yamamoto."
The air goes cold around them.
"He said," Shunsui says, voice soft and sweet. "That there's a reason why most captain exams don't work like the 11th. We should never promote a captain that we don't have complete faith to live through all the trials and tribulations ahead of them. But."
"But?"
"There's another captain qualification that's still been left ongoing, all these years, isn't that right? And if none of the captains present have faith in one side, all that's left is to look at the other."
Shunsui sets a slip of old bamboo down in Shion's hands.
"The prospect of losing a bankai capable shinigami over a territorial dispute is exactly why we have lieutenants, Shion," he says.
The slip is written with painstakingly beautiful calligraphy in a deep black ink.
Lieutenant Shion Kamiya has been nominated for captaincy by
Captain Shunsui Kyoraku of the 8th
Captain Kaname Tousen of the 9th
Captain Miyako Satou of the 10th
Witnessed by
Captain-Commander Yamamoto of the 1st
There's no declining this one, it seems.
"I'll need some time to prepare," Shion says. "Years."
"You've had a century," Shunsui says. "I don't believe we'll have had a captain's exam this fully attended since... Urahara's."
He winks at them.
"You should pick me as your opponent for that part of the trial. I'm disallowed from using my bankai. We'd be on an even playing field!"
Hell will freeze over first.
There's a white house with boarded up windows and dirty cobwebs in every crack and crevice, and in it is a room with a table where Ryuketsu sits and drinks. But she's not drinking right now-- she's staring at the door that sometimes appears in the corner of the room.
"Been a while since that's shown up," she says to him. "You ready to see what's on the other side?"
Crimson red liquid seeps from underneath the slightest crack in the door. Is that where it's been coming from this whole time?
"Not interested," Shion says. "I'm not a fighter, you know that."
Buried in the kitchen knife block they can see through the doorway on the other side of Ryuketsu is a pink hilted blade with odd spikes. It doesn't seem like it would be able to fit in the block as well as it does.
"It doesn't have to be a fight," Ryuketsu says, rolling her eyes. "I'll even tell you what you have to do in advance."
There's a new window as well. It's not properly boarded up like all the other windows, so Shion can still see a bloody handprint left on the outside of the warped glass. The blood doesn't suit this world, though, black instead of red.
"That's even more scary," Shion says. "I won't be able to live even if you tell me exactly what to do?"
Ryuketsu kicks back in her chair, sullen expression back on her face.
"Alright, alright. Be that way, you coward. You wanna talk about your boring little research project. You're waking up in a cold sweat thinking about how hot I'd be if I hollowified."
"Well?"
Ryuketsu licks her lips.
"I don't know what to tell ya, Shion. I've only ever tasted the blood of your little senpai. That's bad sciencing, working off one sample like that."
The blood once again begins to rise, soaking his socks and shoes while leaving Ryuketsu perfectly untouched.
"But... hm. Her soul's a little spicier now than it used to be. But it's not properly mixed in, you know? Like someone thought it was a good idea to cook a steak, then throw some salt on the top. That's not how you put flavor into something!"
"But you'd eat it anyway?"
"Oh, of course. But not the way she is right now... She's way too determined. So grouchy to have such an optimistic belief that her life can be good!"
"That's Hiyori-senpai for you."
"She's probably right, though," Ryuketsu says, resting their cheek on one fisted hand. "She's got a better chance since she never unlocked bankai. She can still turn the steak over for a second sear."
Is that the difference between them and the future Ichigo Kurosaki? Not achieving 'true bankai' until long after the first time he ever spoke with his hollowified zanpakuto. But no... all the visored should have defeated their inner hollow by now. But all that does is keep them sane. The most boring power up of all time.
It's been around six years since their first meeting with the Visored. Plenty of time to let them cool their heads a little.
"That means it's too late for Kaname," Shion says. "All of that for a dead end."
The blood's been rising while they haven't been paying attention, lapping at the edges of the table and drenching Shion's sleeves. Ryuketu's always been an impatient sort.
"You know that's not true, Shion," Ryuketsu says, rolling her eyes. "Just break the Bankai and reforge it. Easy peasy."
The only person who can do that is a zero division officer.
"We're looking at this from the wrong angle," Shion decides, lifting his chin a little to keep the blood out of his mouth. "The better question is--"
"Why the fuck would we do that?" Hiyori snaps. "Attain a Resurreccion form? Are you stupid? We're trying to maintain our humanity, here, Shion!"
"That was a captain-only suggestion," Shion says. "You should get bankai first, Hiyori-senpai!"
"You should get bankai," Hiyori mutters.
"Well, my captain exam is tomorrow. It feels a little late for that?"
Eight heads all jerk in their direction.
It's funny. Training for achieving bankai is partially so challenging because materializing your zanpakuto's spirit into the open world so you can fight it is supposed to be hard. But these hollowified spirits want nothing more than to materialize! They just don't want to appear as a separate entity.
"You weren't already Captain of the 12th?" Shinji says, shoving his mask to rest atop his head so he can stare at them. "You're joking."
Shion smiles at Shinji.
"How nice of you to say that. That's really encouraging to hear right before my big day!"
"No you don't," Hiyori hisses, and then grabs her entire mask, instinctively hurling it at Shion's head as if it were her sandal-- and it separates from her head before exploding into a mutating endless growth of bone that howls and screams until it resolves itself into a bone white skeletal carapace of a two headed snake, both heads almost seeming to unzip themselves from their interlinking bone spines, all with purple diamond patterns running down its back.
"Huh?"
Hiyori stares at the snake.
"Kubichiri...Orochi?" She says, tentatively.
"Is that what your inner hollow looked like when you fought it?" Shion asks, fascinated.
"No!" Hiyori snaps. There's deep confusion underneath the rage, and then Ryuketsu's favorite meal of all-- sorrow. "Not... entirely."
The snake snaps its fangs at her, and she kicks it back, the fight resuming as if it had always been there.
Shion has no idea how long it will take for this method to yield results. Hopefully not more than fifteen years, because time after that is going to be a very limited commodity.
"I'll be going, then," they say to no one in particular. "There's a lot of interesting stuff going on in the living world right now so..."
They actually make it several blocks out of the abandoned industrial district the Visored use as their base of operations before Shinji reveals himself.
"Wait," he says.
Did he want to speak to them away from the prying eyes of his own team? How naughty.
"You wanted to congratulate me on my promotion?" Shion asks.
"We got in contact with Urahara. Asked him about you."
Well, now.
"And he gave me a glowing recommendation? I'm the best subordinate he ever had? Excepting Hiyori-senpai, of course."
"He..."
Shinji shrugs.
"Said you were a killer."
"So's he," Shion says. "Should I go see him? While I'm in the neighborhood."
It's clear that Shinji isn't surprised that they know where the shop is. If they can find the Visored, they can find Urahara-- while the security over the shop is maintained by some of the most brilliant minds in the Seireitei, Shion already knew where to look. There's nothing they can do about that.
"If you do, it's got nothing to do with us," Shinji says. "I just have one question. Why do you think Aizen did..this?"
A vague gesture at himself. An inabiltiy to describe the horrors he's experienced, or a simple dislike of baring his soul to Shion.
"Well," Shion says. "Urahara-senpai didn't do it, after all. From there, it's a matter of looking into the hearts of men. Which is my speciality, after all!"
He's not convinced, but what is he going to do? Shinji suspected Aizen based on nothing but pure intuition. That's worse grounds than what Shion has.
"The offer of modified training chambers, torture devices, and pre-set traps is all still on the table, as well. Still with a discount." Shion winks. "Not because you're Urahara-senpai's friend! But because you are mine."
When they'd last been in this room, they had been judged by... who was it, again. 1st Division Captain-Commander Yamamoto, 6th Division Captain Ginrei Kuchiki, and 10th Division Captain Isshin Shiba.
Of course, only one of those people is still here to greet them as they walk back in, nodding from his seat at the head as every single current captain sat in their place, gaze turned onto Shion.
Well, except for dear Kaname, who's reiatsu sight allows him to instead glare at the suspicious looking small cube that sits in one of their pockets.
"Hello, everyone~" Shion says, lifting a hand in greeting.
"Lieutenant Shion Kamiya," Captain-Commander Yamamoto says, instantly dragging all attention in the room as if his words had opened up a gravity well. "You have come, at last."
Shion claps his hands together, dipping into a bow.
"Captain-Commander," they say. "It's an honor to meet you again."
"It has been nigh on a century since we last spoke," Yamamoto says. "That is the timeframe you gave for yourself to achieve bankai, is it not?"
A sudden intensifying of the gazes behind Shion. That's right...only Kaname is still among them who had heard this part. Presumably he shared it with Aizen, but that's hardly 'sharing information'.
"It's barely been ninety years, Captain-Commander," Shion says. "Maybe if I had another decade."
His disapproval singes the inside of Shion's lungs.
"You will not have them," he says. "Lieutenant Kamiya. You have been nominated for Captain of the 12th by the maximum number of Captain's permitted under our regulations. In fact, had the three whose names were listed not stepped forward, I received another quiet offer of support from a captain willing to offer their own name should any of the three think better of their judgment."
How fascinating.
"I am deeply touched by their faith in me," Shion says, turning around to smile behind them at Shunsui, Kaname, and Miyako. Only Miyako smiles back at him.
They turn back to Yamamoto.
"What would you have me do to prove my worth?" It's been a while since they were this formal. It used to be a game for them, back when they were in the Kido corps, but since then they've found better games, and this one slipped away. Maybe they should go back to it?
Yamamoto gestures with his cane to Shunsui, who dramatically sighs, then clears his throat.
"He always makes me do this part... So, Shion. Normally, we make people prove that they can run a division. But doing that with you would be a true farce. Not that I don't enjoy a good farce! I said we should have put you in charge of the 8th for a week and had you do my paperwork! But I was overruled."
Shion smiles at him.
"That's such a shame, Captain Kyouraku. Would you have been willing to take over being the President of the 12th Division while I was busy? I get so worried when my darling subordinates are unsupervised."
"Haha. So, we're not doing that."
"Just get to the point, already," Kenpachi growls. "This is fucking boring."
"You didn't have to come," Kaname points out, purple cloth covering his eyes as he pointedly keeps his face staring straight ahead.
"Oh yeah? I--"
"Go on, Kyoraku," Unohana says softly.
Kenpachi shuts up immediately.
"Like I was saying," Shunsui says, smiling from his cross legged seat between Kaname and the basket-headed, dog-faced Sajin Komamura. "A Captain should possess two more things. An iron-clad will that will bear up under the weight of an entire society, never faltering. A vision of the future that will never force them to their knees. Would you say you have that, Lieutenant Kamiya?"
"I do."
"Then tell us the name of your blade, Lieutenant Kamiya. What will you bring unto the Soul Society?"
"Ryuketsu," Shion breathes out. "Bloodshed."
A world awash in crimson red.
"And," Shunsui says, eyes drooping down to shadowed pools under his hat as he watches them. "How will you enforce your will, Lieutenant?"
They can sense the ritual-- not magical, but merely traditional-- settle onto them.
"With my blade," Shion says.
Unohana smiles, while Gin goes so far as to give them a couple of slow claps.
"Then so be it," Yamamoto says, and bangs his staff against the floor. "Shion Kamiya. Point your blade at one of your fellow captains! Prove. Your. Place."
"Yes, Captain-General," Shion says. They spin Ryuketsu in their hands as they make a show of surveying each captain in turn, though they'd long since decided which one to prepare to fight against. No one in their right mind would fight Yamamoto, including Aizen Sosuke. Soi Fon's shikai is built to work best against people who are slower than her, a category which definitely includes Shion. Unohana...no. Aizen...absolutely not. Byakuya was a good possibility, kido against superior kido user, shikai vulnerable to barriers, but.. The whole fun point is that the longer Byakuya goes before taking an unrecoverable injury to his pride, the better it's going to be.
Komamura... was actually glaring at them. Why?
...
Because he used to be Kaname's only friend. Aw. So he's a better candidate than they realized. Too late now, better luck next time. Moving on. They don't want to play Shunsui's games, they're already playing games with Kaname, they don't know what Miyako's bankai is, Kenpachi is far better when he doesn't consider them a worthy fight, and Ukitake's broken shikai would force him to use another unknown bankai. Scary!
So, really they only have one option.
The blade points straight at Gin Ichimaru.
Gin's close eyed smile grows so wide that it threatens to split out of his skin.
"Me?" he says. "Really?"
Shion crooks their finger at him.
"Come on, Captain Ichimaru," they say. "I'll be gentle. I promise."
Gin slowly rises to his feet, perfectly ironed and proper captain's garb settling around him as he moves into the center of the hall to face them.
"That's a relief," he drawls. "You see... back when I was out here, fighting..." His sword flashes out, only to hit the barrier that had flared up around Shion. "For my spot, Captain Aizen volunteered to fight me. I was so, so sad how quickly that ended."
Aizen smiles and shakes his head from the sidelines.
"You caught me by surprise, Ichimaru-san," he says. "I'm sorry to have disappointed you."
"I'll have to at least last longer than him, huh..." Shion murmurs. They jump backwards as Gin stabs forward again, reaching into their pocket to pull out a small little black cube and tossing it at Gin.
"Two-Faced Prison," Shion says, and sets their first slash in the air, right where Gin can see it.
"Shoot to kill, Shino," Gin snaps, and his sword lengthens to pierce the cube almost faster than the eye can track.
He has to prioritize the cube over the slash, and he does so, his offensive quick and brutal as he slashes at it. Whereas against Aizen Gin picks the long game, Shion's shikai is built to become more dangerous over time: the only advantage Gin could have over them is pure reiatsu.
Unfortunately, he'd have been better off taking that losing gamble instead of this one.
The cube pulses, and suddenly exponentially increases in size, unfolding itself until Shion and Gin are both trapped inside complete darkness.
Well. Complete darkness for Gin, at least. Shion reaches up and taps on a simple earring cuff, hooking one of their eyes into Kenpachi's senses in order to simply see through the cube, which is completely transparent to anyone outside of it. That's better.
"Simple blindness, Lieutenant Kamiya? It looks like someone's been rubbing off on you."
Gin's sword lengthens and he simply starts swinging it in a brutal circle, causing every single person in the room to have to duck out of its way.
"Captain Ichimaru!" Jushiro snaps. "Contain yourself."
"Sorry, sorry," Gin says, tense grin stretched across his face as the sword drops to proportions that only sweep the length of the cube. Shion wishes he had tried to shunpo out of the cube, but clearly Gin's ability to sense traps is better than anticipated.
In the dark, Shion makes another cut in the air.
"You're unusually silent," Gin says, waiting for them to give him a single piece of sound to use as a directional. His sword has halted, assassin's blade waiting in the darkness. "I didn't think concealment was your--"
Shion slowly lifts up a hand in front of him, and then beckons with two fingers, forcing what had before been an ephemeral wall of darkness to solidify and ram forward, shoving Gin forward, sword piercing Shion's outstretched hand even as a line of blood forms on his side where he'd failed to dodge the invisible threat.
"Got you," Gin hisses.
Ryuketsu's laughter warms Shion's heart as the cube rolls, the floor becoming the side and the sides, the ceiling, gravity sending Gin falling backwards onto another slash as Shion pulls his bleeding hand off the sword.
Just a little bite of his soul, Ryuketsu whispers. He won't miss it.
Still blind, Gin rolls away from them, crouched low to the ground as his smile turns rigid.
"A whole kido barrier solely tailored to fight me, Lieutenant Kamiya?"
"Well, you know," Shion says. "Tailored for my amusement. It seems like you're not so good against properly prepared foes, Captain Ichimaru?"
Shion had gone through all that effort to tailor a kido spell that would let him detect Quincies only to realize, as they stared out at a phone booth in the charmingly old fashioned Karakura downtown area, that they could simply look up the Ishida name and address. Truly, a marvel of the modern era.
"Do we really have to do this, President?" Oko asks, clipboard firmly held in his grip as he keeps pace behind them. "And... I know that you're extremely capable of controlling your reiatsu aura, but captains really aren't supposed to be in the mortal realms without gigai... it's disruptive to our ability to measure hollow paths into the living world!"
It's also disruptive to people's ability to live normal lives.
"We'll bring gigai next time," Shion says airily, white captain's overcoat fluttering in the breeze while humans walk right past them, completely oblivious except for a shiver of unease. "Come on, Oko-kun. Isn't it nice to be outside of our Lieutenant's icy gaze?"
Oko would clearly prefer Toshiro's presence to Shion's own, but he isn't brave enough to say it.
Shion knocks crisply on the door to an unassuming two story house in a good, upscale neighborhood. Then they walk through the door and pace through the house, noting the scrawls of a child's young drawings-- a small stick figure with a blue bow-- on the fridge as they finally find an old man sitting at his breakfast nook.
He sets his tea cup down with a shocked kind of stare, fear tinged with an edge of resignation.
"Come to rebuff my attempts at working together in harmony in person this time, Captain?"
Soken Ishida is a wizened sort, the grey of his hair haven completely overtaken any natural coloring.
Shion pulls the seat out on the opposite side of the table and sits down in it, leaving Oko to remain standing behind them. That really is a lieutenant's job, isn't it? Maybe in a few years they can ask Toshiro to help them out.
"Oh, I'm not here about that," Shion says. "Karakura's 13th Division territory, you know? Completely out of my hands."
They flip their hands over on the table. See? Completely empty.
Is it Jushiro Ukitake himself who's resistant to the idea, since he's one of the originals from the previous Quincy extermination war? Is it the fact that his people on the ground haven't sent communications back? Has Aizen intercepted such communications? There's really no way to know.
Soken grits his teeth.
"I won't be taken lightly, shinigami. The Quincies are a people worthy of protecting the world! It may be an old fashioned belief, but it's a true one."
He's under a number of illusions about Shion's motives and goals. That's fine.
"You are going to die within the next six months," Shion says, informatively. "There's about to be a... I do love mortal words... 'recall'. Like when a distributor realizes that they've sent out poisoned cabbage."
The tea cup drops from his hands and spills onto the table.
"No," he whispers, eyes seeing horrors far beyond the horizon. Then his gaze snaps back to Shion. "How do you know that? You can't know that."
The tea falls harmlessly through Shion's ghostly uniform.
"I can't prove it to you, naturally," Shion says. They smile at him. "I'd like to study you when you experience that moment of 'recall'. You wouldn't mind donating your body to science, would you? I don't need your soul."
Dawning awareness.
"My son..." He whispers. "You think he'll live. That his stubbornness will save him."
Not even a mention of his daughter-in-law, hm? How sad.
"You have a son?" Shion says brightly. "How wonderful."
A stone faced glare.
"You don't seem like the kind of person who would keep their word," he says.
How rude.
"I'm a very honest person," Shion says. Just ask anyone. "Would you like some compensation for your donation?"
A bit of the fight leaves his eyes.
"Your subordinate," he says. He still hasn't asked for Shion's name. "Leave him here. He can perform a konso ritual, I trust?"
"That's the most basic--" Oko blusters, before hastily shutting his mouth. But it's far too late for him.
"He can," Shion says, eyes disappearing into crescents for a second as they smile. "I'm not usually the type to grant people's wishes before they die, is the only problem. It's not my style."
They think it over. Unfortunately, it's too convenient to turn down just because it's helpful.
"Well, Oko-kun," Shion says, standing up from their chair and clapping their hands together. "See you in a few months! It's your responsibility to keep him alive at all costs-- and to call me immediately when he begins to experience spontaneous, excruciating agony, alright?"
"Call you?" Oko repeats, dazed. "You mean send a hell butterfly? But I can just open a p--"
That's right, they haven't shown their newest application of modified #58 to him yet. Well, it doesn't matter.
"Butterfly, throw a note through the portal, whatever," Shion says dismissively. "I want you monitoring over here constantly. Specifically, I want you checking for traces of hollowification in his system."
"Hollowification!?" Soken demands, finding his voice again. "I assure you, shinigami, I am a pureblooded Quincy. There is not a trace of it anywhere in my soul."
"Then, it will be easy to observe if that changes," Shion says, locking eyes with Oko, who nods rapidly, swallowing nervously. Shion has his own opinions on the origin of Quincy powers, but all will become clear through research. Or it won't, and all of this will have been for nothing!
"Yes, Captain!"
Shion begins to leave, only to be halted one last time.
"You..." Soken finally says. "As long as I'm cooperating, you'll stay away from my son."
Hm?
"Of course," Shion lies. "I much prefer mutually beneficial arrangements."
Once he's back outside in the crisp autumn air of Karakura, Shion reaches into the depths of their uniform, and from a pocket pulls a rose pink flip phone, bedazzled with solidified reiatsu. Several charms including a black dagger with a screaming face, a purple butterfly, and a cute red flower dangle off of it, jingling as they knock into one another.
Shion calls it the Kakushitsuijaku: Jigokuchou. Or, you know.
His hellphone.
Shion leans his head against his shoulder with the phone trapped in between as he walks, an extra skip in his step slipping in every time he hears the phone on the other end ring. Four full times before someone picks up!
"Hello?"
The voice on the other side of the phone straddles an infinitely fine line between the perfect target for a timeshare scam and the perpetrator of one, a low baritone with just a microdose of unbearable whimsy.
"Hi, Urahara-senpai~" Shion says. "Committed any atrocities against humanity lately?"
They twirl a finger through their hair as they wait for a response, not even able to hear any give away breaths for air.
"Kamiya," Urahara says, finally. "I haven't. And even if I had, I wouldn't let you see them."
No one calls them Kamiya any more. It's actually rather startling.
"That's so sad," Shion says. "I guess it's all up to me to do something like that, then! You can always come by and see my work, Urahara-senpai."
"Kamiya..." It's strange to hear hesitation in his voice. "I know you know I didn't do it."
They're very fond of Kisuke Urahara. Not everyone specializes in ruining their own life so effortlessly.
"The world's full of monsters," Shion says, voice dreamy. "Is it so important that you aren't one of them?"
"I'm responsible for you, Kamiya," Urahara says. And he believes it, which is so lovely. "I let you out of your prison."
"Have you ever heard of a German song named 'Lieber Heinrich?'"
A desperately long silence.
"No, Kamiya. I haven't."
"It goes, like... 'there's a hole in my bucket, dear Henry, dear Henry...'" Shion hums the bar. "And no matter what, all of the materials needed to mend the bucket loop back around to requiring a bucket that doesn't leak. An infinite loop. Isn't it a cute nursery rhyme?"
"I can understand why you like it," Urahara says, dry voice tensing up as his own locators finally lock in. "Are you... in Karakura. Right now."
"Oh, yeah. That's what I was calling you about, Urahara-senpai! I'm going to be spending a lot of time here in the next few years. Why don't you make me a gigai? All of my best gigai specialists are, you know, dead."
"I'm... not in your chain of command, Kamiya."
Hm?
"Oh, that's right! So it's fine if I call you Kisuke-senpai?"
"Don't--"
Shion hangs up.
