Indelible Stains [Bleach SI/OC]
- Thread starter zarinthel
- Start date
Firedon
Lazy Sleepy Cat
- Location
- Germany
I mean... it worked. If Aizen's fear of death hadn't activated the plot rock, Gin would have succeeded and Aizen would be dead.
I'll second those curious about an Aizen POV, but I don't think our MC has done anything that would give the game away so it probably wouldn't provide too much?
This bit is hilarious, and so very Gin. Just start swinging with his absurdly long sword, nearly decapitating his colleagues. Probably would've been glad if something like that happened, honestly. Would save him a lot of work if Aizen really did get his head cut off right then.
True enough, but knowing the Hogyouku can 'do miracles' I really think Gin should've had a backup plan at the very least, considering Aizen himself is no slouch in any department.
Moth to Flame
On a scale of popularity between Shion and Miyako, Toshiro sits sullenly in the center of the 12th Division's unofficial ranking poll, not as scary as Shion is and without the decades that Miyako had spent defending them from sudden grant losses and Shion's own harmless curiosity towards their various projects.
"Captain Shiba never did his own paperwork," Toshiro says to them, arms crossed. Perhaps it would be more effective of an intimidation tactic were he a few feet taller. "He said that's what Lieutenants do."
"A Lieutenant's job is to compensate for their captain's weaknesses," Shion says brightly, putting one hand on their cheek. "What do you think my weaknesses are, Toshiro-kun?"
Toshiro measures them up, still unsettled in their presence months after joining the division. Was it something Rangiku said? No, maybe it was the first time he walked into a slash?
"Nobody likes you," Toshiro says finally.
"Is that a weakness?" Shion asks, genuinely curious at his thought process, even if the conclusion isn't true.
"It's--" Toshiro scowls at them. "Most captains are at least popular in their own division."
"Oh! Is that what you meant. Has my division become like Seinsosuke's poor 4th, where everyone is getting bullied because neither their Captain or Lieutenant believes in defending them?"
It's been so long since something like that has happened around Shion he'd basically forgotten that was a thing.
"No! I mean. Captain Miyako used to--"
Ah.
"Miyako was very popular here," Shion agrees. "Didn't she give you any advice before you came over here? How unlike her."
"She said that I should..." Toshiro pauses, trailing off before finishing his sentence in a much less certain fashion. "Ask to be Vice-President as well as Lieutenant. Right away, before anyone else got the chance to ask you."
Worried that leaving the position empty is itself a bad result, or worried that Shion would drop the position on Nozomi, a clone with a dislike of all things in Soul Society?
"I could offer you that, sure," Shion says. In their pocket, their new phone begins to buzz. "Actually, I have a great idea! Why don't you spend the next..." How long is this going to take? Weeks? "Month, to work as both the Vice President of the 12th and the Lieutenant for the 4th?"
Toshiro stalls out.
"The fourth!?"
"President," Oko's voice cuts over the phone, almost drowned out by faint sounds of pain. "You need to get over here. He's barely hanging on. And you were right, I think. These readings--"
Shion hangs up on him and calls Seinosuke as they begin to bolt for their lab.
"Hey!" Shion starts, voice bright. "You remember how you dragged me out in the dead of night to help you out, Seinosuke-kun?"
"Never call me that again," Seinosuke says. "How are you even-- when did that butterfly get in here?"
"Well, I have a special super secret favor," Shion says, ignoring the way Toshiro has kept pace with them. It's not their fault that active speed is really not their thing. "Meet me in the labs. Life or death depending on your speed."
"Kamiya--"
They love hanging up on people.
"So, you'll be in charge over here while I'm gone," Shion says brightly as they wait by a nervously sweating Nozomi. "Don't worry, this place basically runs itself. Make sure to keep an eye out for the 4th as well, because Seinosuke has never heard of delegation, so the whole place might crash and burn. Nozomi's going to be staying behind, so ask them if you have any questions. Or simply figure it out yourself!"
Seinosuke strides through the open door, mouth pursed like he just fully bit into an unpeeled lemon.
"I don't see a life or death situation, Kamiya," he says. "If this is all some prank..."
"Not at all," Shion says, making a grand gesture towards Nozomi, who winces but obliges, pushing their half green half yellow bangs out of their eyes before drawing their zanpakuto.
"Question Endlessly, Arazome Reiku," Nozomi intones, sword growing into the length of a naginata with a curved blade on both ends. They twirl it with both hands, red energy coalescing around the edges until a round circle is completely removed from the universe and instead shows an older man surrounded by blinking monitoring devices and one Oko Yushima.
"Remember to pick up a gigai from the corner!" Shion says brightly, and steps through, Seinosuke right behind them.
Seinosuke immediately drops to his knees, grim expression settling over his face as he checks Soken's pulse.
"Hello, Sir," he says, voice returning to polite frigidity. "Can you hear me?"
There is nothing visibly wrong with Soken except for the excruciating agony.
"It.. hurt.s....."
A diagnostic kido flares out around Seinosuke as he stares down at the man.
"A Quincy..." Seinosuke mutters. "Shion, what is this?"
"A Quincy," Shion says, flicking through the results that Oko had gotten through the past few months. "You said I was right, Oko? Where's that data?"
Oko points over to one of the monitors he has attached to Soken's heart.
"You can almost see the soul chain emerging even without the monitor, he's that close to death," Oko says. "See? But that's what's strange. Humans are supposed to die, and then their soul chain begins to degrade until they are either purified or they finish hollowification. But he's not dying and then degrading, he's dying because his soul is already degrading."
"Where is the pain coming from, sir?" Seinosuke says, ignoring them completely as he pushes reiatsu into Soken, attempting to stabilize him. "Head, or chest?"
"Ch..."
Shion squints at the same monitor as Oko. No... that's still not quite right.
"Just having his soul chain degrade shouldn't be having this specific effect," Shion says. "He'd be growing a bone mask. He's not showing any of the typical signs."
Oko glances down at Soken.
"Are Quincies immune to hollowification?"
"Obviously not," Shion says. They have a couple of theories. "Hey, Seinosuke. Have we ever had a Quincy soul show up in Soul Society? I've checked the records, and found nothing."
Soken screams, beginning to thrash around.
"No," Seinosuke says. "It's the Soul Society's official stance that just like how their magic reduces souls to nothing, they also become nothing upon death."
Now that's just not true.
"You know," Shion says, ideas finally clicking together in their head towards something new and exciting. "When I was designing my modified search kido, I wanted it to work in the four worlds, Soul Society, Hueco Mundo, the Living World, and Hell. Right? And more importantly I wanted it to be able to find people who embodied those places. But I got caught up right away, because the spell counted Quincies as human and didn't separate shinigami from hollow. Weird stuff. But obviously Quincies have something about them that's not human."
Shion goes to sit down next to Seinosuke and unsheathes Ryuketsu, cutting a small slice along one of his arms-- or, attempting to. Blue geometric patterns surge along his skin, repelling the attack automatically.
"Whatever you did just made everything worse!" Seinosuke growls. "You should have told me the patient was a Quincy! I could have done research in advance. My Captain keeps records on Quincy anatomy."
"He's got an automatic defense mechanism for outside attacks," Shion says. "Blood Guise. So it has to be an internal attack. Something inside of him."
Seinosuke stares at them. They look back.
"I should have never told you what my shikai does," Seinosuke says, voice flat.
"Pretty please, Seinosuke? I'll never ask you for anything, ever again."
"Liar."
But from his robe, Seinosuke pulls out his dagger.
"Refuse and Deny, Shiratori Misasagi!"
The blade shivers, slowly shrinking into a pure white surgeon's scalpel that shimmers with a pearlescent sheen.
"No one dies while I cut them," Seinosuke says tonelessly.
As far as Shion is aware, this is more of a side effect of Seinosuke's shikai than its actual power. But it's the only part Shion's ever been able to pry out, so.
The blade sinks down into Soken's chest, cutting him open on the bare floor of his own home. Blood never even leaves his chest, denying all laws of reality to act as if nothing has changed even while the scalpel penetrates the heart.
Then the scalpel stops, clanking against something that definitely shouldn't be there.
Shion quickly grabs a hold of Soken's shoulders to stop him from thrashing off of the floor. Whatever Seinosuke's power does, it certainly doesn't numb pain.
"Do that again!" Oko calls from his place at the monitors. "Whatever hollow aura the sensors have been picking up on just surged!"
"If he has something hollow lodged in his heart, he should have died at birth," Seinosuke says, carefully beginning his second cut. "Hollow blood is poisonous to Quincies."
"What if it's his own blood?" Shion suggests, craning their neck to get a better view. "A blood clot."
"Does a blood clot normally turn into metal?"
Both of them can now see the glint of silver held within the chambers of Soken's heart.
"It's reading like a--"
Oko stops in the middle of his sentence, staring at the chart like it's just betrayed him.
"You're not supposed to be able to hollowfy while you're still alive!" He hisses.
"Cause and effect, Oko. This is Science! Is he dying because he's hollowifying, or is he reacting to what's happening to him by hollowifying. You've got some Hollow blood on you, right?"
Soken's next scream has a weird, echoey quality to it as Oko pulls out a black vial of hollow blood and tosses it to them.
Seinosuke stares at Shion unhappily.
"He won't die either way," he says. "What's that going to prove?"
"I'm trying to see if we can get all the blood in his body to turn into silver," Shion says. "The blood clot is a reaction to increased hollow presence."
Soken stirs beneath Shion's hands, still somehow capable of hearing them.
"No...." He whispers. Shion can see his lungs operate as he speaks. "It's... our ancestor.. He calls."
"Back to what I was saying earlier," Shion says. "According to my spell, Quincies don't exist. There's humans, and then shinigami, and hollows, and mixes of those."
"They obviously exist," Oko says, rapping one hand against a stuttering machine. "I have been monitoring him closely. He is a Quincy."
"Culturally, they exist," Shion says. "But as a species, they are human."
"Humans do not have strange blue veins that repel swords," Seinosuke says. Carefully, he has begun prodding at the silver metal within Soken's heart with the scalpel, trying to dislodge it without damaging too much of the muscle that Soken needs to live. It's not his best work.
"They could, though," Shion says. "If they wished really hard."
He has two theories. Well. One theory, two causes.
One: Quincies are a subdivision of Fullbringers. Fullbringers become what they are either through being associated with hollows, or because they have a fragment of the Soul King that draws hollows to them. Unknown since untested and all sources about this are unreliable. Also, one doesn't preclude the other. It could be both.
Two: The manifestation of Quincy power is about to drastically shift from previously uniform and predictable to weird and miraculous.
Three: The Soul King is a lot of things, but he is definitely not a hollow.
Therefore:
"I think he's dying from a side effect," Shion says. "An allergic reaction."
They make interlinking circles with their fingers, then draw them apart.
Oko is the first to catch on, being the only person present with actual knowledge relevant to what Shion is talking about.
"You mean--"
"Quincies are made mortally ill by hollows," Shion says, pouring some hollow blood into Soken's open chest. "But, according to my theory, Quincies are actually getting their powers from being part hollow. A contradiction. So they would need something that makes them live even though they should die."
As the black blood hits Soken's cut open heart, it turns silver.
"Granted power through hollowifcation inherited since birth. Kept alive through a fragment of the Soul King," Shion says, truly delighted. "Not anymore, though."
Even as he says that, Seinosuke swears, the balance of affairs that lets him keep Soken's heart beating despite being nearly sliced in two being blurred by the onrush of silvery metal blood.
"His soul chain's gone!" Oko snaps, hand dropping away from the monitors and reaching for his sword. "He's turning--"
A completely silver metal mask begins to extrude out of Soken's head, spilling out of his tear ducts, his nose, and his mouth before it solidifies into a hollow's mask full of jagged blue lines.
"Don't damage the metal!" Shion calls, reaching their bare hand into Soken's open chest and pulling out his still beating heart, kept preserved by Seinosuke's shikai even as the rest of the body shudders and blackens as the transformation begins in earnest. "Take care of that, Oko."
"How am I supposed to take care of it without breaking the mask!?" Oko shouts, exasperated. "All I do is portal creation!"
Shion looks at Seinosuke.
"I don't fight," Seinosuke says, in a tone that implies he hopes both Shion and Oko die.
"You don't need to use shikai to fight a newly formed hollow," Shion says, voice flat. "Just stab it a couple of times." They shove Oko forward while they busy themselves with putting the still freshly bleeding heart in a jar half full of hollow blood, carefully sealing it off.
Oko shrieks, his own katana releasing to its full form of a double headed voulge. He sets one tip of the blade on the ground in a position reminiscent of how Shion had first found him on the brink of death from Mayuri's poison all those decades ago, and stares at the hollow definitely.
"Don't come any closer," he says. "I'll send you to the Dangai!"
"You lose that mask, you lose all funding for the next century," Shion says, deadly serious. They shake the jar in their hands a little, watching the mix of black and red blood turn a beautiful silver. "I'll crush all your current projects to pieces with my own hands."
Oko gains a sudden burst of courage, swiping out with his blade to cut through the midsection of the blue and white hollow. But it barely even flinches.
"There's no point," Seinosuke says, lip curling. "My shikai denies people the ability to move on to the next part of the afterlife, whatever that might be for them. If he hadn't been partially a hollow when he was alive, this wouldn't have been able to happen at all."
What a fun ability.
"And how long is that going to last...?" Shion murmurs.
Seinosuke gives them another pissed off look for forcing him to divulge more and more secrets.
"...It's permanent. But If the person can find the way to a different afterlife than what they were originally meant for, it won't be a problem."
The type of thing that would be really good against ghosts about to turn into hollows, and really bad for humans about to die, hm.
"We'll pin him and purify him, then," Shion says, nodding decisively as the heart finally beats its last within the jar. "It's a little kind, but it's the only way."
They point their finger at the hollow that used to be Soken Ishida.
"Bakudo #61: Rikujokoro. Carriage of thunder. Bridge of a spinning wheel. Six spokes become six strikes!"
Lighting flashes and becomes solid beams of light that thud into the hollow, forming a spoked wheel of pillars that all crunch into the hollow's midsection, forcing it to stay in place as it howls.
They carefully tuck the jar away before approaching the creature, placing one hand on their mask while their second uses Ryuketsu as if she were an oyster-shucking knife to pry the silver-bone mask and reveal the haunted face beneath.
"Hhellp....mm...."
They reverse grip on their sword, and gently tap his forehead with the pommel, leaving a brightly glowing sigil behind as the sword lifts up.
"Have fun in your next life!" They say.
"Yyou...." The ghost murmurs as it dissolves into the ground. "Promised...."
"Well, that was a lot shorter and more successful than I was expecting," Shion says, clapping his hands together. "Alright! That should be everything. Oko, be a dear and drop Seinosuke off back in the Seireitei and then come back here and clean all of this up, alright? Feel free to take the rest of the week off, Toshiro's been left to figure things out on his own."
Tucked away in the kitchen, a phone begins to ring.
One ring. Two rings. Three--
Shion picks up the receiver.
"Father, what did you do!?" Ryuken Ishida spits into the phone from the other end. "My son calls me at work, telling me that my wife has collapsed on the floor, and yet not a single smug call from you? I demand that you come over here and give me some answers!"
Well hello there.
"I'm sorry, Soken can't come to the phone right now," Shion says, smile lighting up his face so starkly that Oko drops the monitoring device he'd been holding to crash onto the floor in favor of yanking Seinosuke and himself back into the Seireitei.
A short, suspicious pause and then Ryuken's voice comes back through much more controlled than before.
"My father lives alone. Who the hell are you?"
It's so wonderful of him to ask.
"My name's Captain Shion Kamiya," Shion says, twirling a strand of hair around their finger. "But you can call me Shion!"
"I don't recognize that name," Ryuken says coldly. "Put my father on the phone."
"I'd love to, but I can't," Shion says, shaking his head sadly. "I contacted him because I was worried about his health months ago, and this morning the worst came to pass."
"What?"
"He died not ten minutes ago. And you're saying that your wife just collapsed?"
"You--" Another pause to collect himself. "You're the reason some useless little shinigami has been following my father around for the past few months, aren't you. Bring his body with you to the hospital. We can't have this discussion over the phone."
The phone clicks as Ryuken hangs up.
Not even the chance to explain that there's not much left of the body to bury! Not that Shion would have explained that anyway. They love delivering bad news in person.
Also...
Shion looks down at their Captains haori and full robes. Perhaps they should go shopping.
The waiting room at Karakura General Hospital is full of ancient, slightly yellowed hairstyle magazines that Shion carefully picks through while they wait their turn in line, carefully tucking one away to give to Shinji. Hopefully he will take their kind gift in the way it was meant.
The receptionist clears her throat, pointedly ignoring that she saw them do that.
"Name and appointment?" She says.
"Shion Kamiya. Here to see--"
The receptionist nearly presses down on a key so hard it breaks.
"The director said you might be coming," she says, though from the way she's looking at Shion Ryuken may as well have said that he was waiting on a visit from the grim reaper. "Take the elevator down to the basement level."
Shion adjusts the way his haori lays over his new soft and shimmery pink and silver striped sweater over a black turtleneck and slacks. It can't be the rhinestone skull clip in his hair that's doing it, can it? Maybe it's the sunglasses? The messenger bag slung across one shoulder?
Either way, they give a cheerful wave to the lady as the doors close shut around him, and he begins to descend.
The elevator has a floor labeled 'basement', but when Shion arrives at that floor the doors do not open, the entire elevator instead shuddering for a second, then continuing to drop.
The air is cold when the doors finally open, and Shion steps out into a series of hallways all done in silver and glass, both treated with reishi to make them strong. Not strong enough to completely block out reiatsu senses, though.
Ryuken Ishida is tall man with shoulder length white hair and sharp glasses, his three piece grey suit obscured only by the labcoat haphazardly worn over it. He is staring at the unconscious body of his wife, hooked up to a private hospital bed. Even her unconsciousness isn't peaceful, pain reaching out from her dreams to labor her breathing.
In three months, she'll breathe her last, never once reawakening.
"Found you!" Shion says, causing him to whirl and instinctively reach towards his wrist.
He stops before he materializes a Quincy bow, though.
"You must be Mr. Kamiya," Ryuken says, words so frosty that Shion wouldn't be surprised if he was the incarnation of Toshiro's zanpakuto. "I don't see my father's body. I shouldn't be surprised that a shinigami would lie about that."
It's not often they get to meet someone for the first time on the worst day of their life.
Their eyes drift to his wife.
The worst day of his life...so far!
"No, I have it right here," Shion says, pulling two separate jars out of their bag. One of them holds a formerly human heart that has turned completely black and become mostly encased in a hardened silver metal.
The other holds a silver-white mask with blue markings.
They see him finally attempt to trigger his own Quincy bow, and grab his wrist, interrupting him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Shion says. "Or you'll be the next to end up like your wife."
He yanks his hand back from Shion's grasp, but stops attempting to use reishi.
"You'd prefer that, wouldn't you," he says, voice dark. "All of us, completely gone."
"Oh, this has nothing to do with my preferences," Shion lies cheerily. "I'd actually love to know why you weren't affected at all, though. You're ruining my current theory that you were all killed based on a specific shared progenitor."
At that, Ryuken's eyes widen a little, clearly having his own little realization about who, exactly, could have the power to have done such a thing to his wife.
"I hate the Quincy..." He mutters, turning away from Shion to stare down at the unconscious women on the bed.
In his eyes, in his shoulders, in his heart, he is attempting to hold onto the hope that she might live.
Shion watches that hope die.
"You know," Shion says. "There are stronger things than blood. I shouldn't have second guessed myself earlier. Maybe the power is cultural, not genetic."
Ryuken doesn't look back at them, hand drifting down to cover his wife's but Shion knows he's listening.
"So, it would have targeted everyone who thought, in their heart of hearts, that they were Quincy."
Slumped shoulders, bending under new weight.
"What did you do to my father, Mr. Kamiya?"
He's the type of person who self inflicts burdens on himself. Shion's favorite.
"It's my working theory that Quincy souls are being diverted away from the Soul Society," Shion says. It's not really an answer to Ryuken's question. It's okay. It's more important that he know this than that he know about all of that. "Back to the one who considers himself the sole Quincy that matters."
Ryuken's jaw clenches.
"That's impossible," he says. "He's--"
He's not dead. Ryuken knows that.
"He's got no hold on us," Ryuken grates out.
"He's certainly got no hold on you, Dr. Ishida," Shion says. They rattle the jar with the mask a little.
"And you expect me to believe that something caused by-- by Quincy lineage turned my father into a hollow?" He whirls on Shion, clearly outraged.
He's so cute.
"No, no," Shion says. "I did that!"
The outrage turns into genuine rage.
"--To save his mortal soul," Shion tacks on. Careful, careful.. "It was an unfortunate by-product of preventing his soul from going the way of all the Quincies before him. Don't worry! I cleansed the hollow myself. He's safely moved on. Completely relieved of all his burdens! Pinky promise."
They offer their hand to Ryuken, who doesn't take it.
"Mr. Kamiya--"
"I'd love if you called me Shion."
"Mr. Kamiya. I hope you haven't come here with the offer of turning my wife into a hollow."
Shion smiles at him guilelessly.
"Here's my number, Doctor. I'm looking forward to your call."
As they walk back to the elevator, they pause as they hear Ryuken's phone ring.
"What?" Ryuken snaps.
"Ryuken!" Isshin Kurosaki's voice echoes through the hall, ragged with grief and desperation. "It's-- she's--d...dead. Oh gods... I don't know anything about what to say to the kids... I--"
"Is there anything left of her?" Ryuken demands. "Anything at all."
An agonized silence.
"It... there was a hollow. I sensed it too late. Ry--"
And there, in the cold white walls of his own hospital, Ryuken throws his phone so hard that it craters reiatsu reinforced steel.
Having Toshiro drag Oko into their main office feels somehow deeply nostalgic.
"Hello, Toshiro-kun, what have you brought with you today?" Shion says, setting down the various vials with metal shavings that litter the lab surfaces. So far, nothing appears to have even the slightest ability to melt the Still Silver they'd obtained, but that's no reason not to keep trying.
Toshiro crosses his arms.
"I found him attempting to make use of the contraband storage area," he says, glaring at Oko.
Oko doesn't notice, his full attention purely on Shion.
Shion sets down the vial and looks over at Oko.
"The contraband area?" They say. Did they have one of those... hm. Okay, they remember now. "There's not much in there, is there? I don't really classify contraband."
This doesn't improve Toshiro's mood.
"He was attempting to get into a set of records that looked like they were from a Captain before you," Toshiro reports. "Even if you don't use the storage, it looks like you at least kept stuff the way it used to be."
Shion's eyes snap to Oko, humour at the situation slowly fading away.
"You were looking for some of Kisuke-senpai's stuff, Oko?" They ask, leaning forward towards him, voice soft.
"N-no," Oko stutters. "It's just... you asked me about soul alteration... And the Captain..."
"If there was something useful in there, I would have told you," Shion says, voice very dry. "We are trying for new avenues here, Oko! Not old ones."
And it's not why their annoyed, anyway.
"Toshiro-kun," Shion says, voice cheery. "The only file that Central 46 didn't completely redact into uselessness when they went through and butchered everything was the one Kisuke-senpai kept on his knowledge and theories on all the zanpakuto he knew about in the Soul Society. You're too young to be on it, but it's rather dangerous information to have."
Toshiro blanches a little, even though compared to many shinigami they know he's rather open about his shikai's abilities. Confident that knowledge won't be enough to counter it, even though that's definitely not true. Anything known about can be averted.
"So, Oko," Shion murmurs. "What are we going to do w--"
Their phone rings.
Shion grabs it as they see the location their being called from, one hand held up to silence Toshiro and Oko as they hold the phone to their ear with the other.
"Hi~," Shion says eyes creased a little as Toshiro recoils a little from their smile. "This is Shion Kamiya. How can I help you?"
"You know who it is," Ryuken says darkly. "I found the same silver that you had. Get back here, shinigami."
"Oh I'm so sorry to hear about your wife's passing," Shion says. "I hope she didn't feel a thing."
Ugly silence.
"And bring the mask."
The phone clicks off.
"Oh, well, we'll have to put this discussion on hold," Shion says. "Or not, actually. Toshiro, you know the drill. You're in charge while I'm gone. Just do whatever you want to Oko. It's fine."
They look around for a mirror in their lab. Why have they never ordered one..?
"Captain Kamiya...?" Toshiro repeats, voice strained.
"Hm?"
They look up from carefully checking their hair.
"Yes, Toshiro-kun?"
"Captain Ichimaru came here to poke around while you were gone, last time. I don't.. Have the ability to kick him out, when you're not here."
Shion laughs.
"Why would you do that? I have nothing to hide!"
"But, he's..."
It's a day for tense arguments, which means it's Shion's absolute favorite kind of day.
Ryuken and Isshin are both standing in front of the entrance to the Karakura cemetery, voices raised.
"I'm not inviting a strange Shinigami back to my house, Isshin. Your clinic will serve."
"Your house has a private doctor's room! My kids show up at the clinic, Ryuken! And more than that, I shouldn't be meeting strange Shinigami."
"Your kids show up at the clinic? My son lives at home, and he's driven the last three babysitters away. What do you expect me to do? Just--"
"I really hate to interrupt," Shion says, causing both men to whirl on them.
They wave, their only modification to their outfit from their last visit to the living world being the changing out of the slacks-- far too formal-- into some pale shorts to match the sweater.
Ishin pales.
"You're..." he says, eyes taking in their captain's haori. "Ryuken, you didn't mention you met Shion Kamiya."
"I told you what they looked like," Ryuken says, clearly annoyed. "Who else could I have possibly been describing?"
"There's tons of shinigami with orange-ish hair and strange dispositions!"
Shion is pretty sure it's just them and Rangiku.
Ryuken clicks his tongue.
"Whatever. I don't need you anymore, since you're clearly not going to be helpful to anyone. As long as you really can confirm this... Shion Kamiya's name and rank."
"Yeah, sure," Isshin says, voice casual. "I remember Shion, I was in the meeting where we gave him his Lieutenant job. From, uh..." He gives Shion a searching glance. "He used to be the Fourth seat of the 12th Division. Urahara's division."
"Kisuke-senpai is an inspiration to me," Shion says.
While this should reassure no one, it actually seems to have reassured Ryuken. Truly fascinating.
"You can leave, Isshin," Ryuken says flatly. "It seems me and... Kamiya here, have much to discuss."
a/n: you know, I really thought that I'd have managed to hit canon's starting date by now. But still, there's some important stuff to cover... I've noted the votes for a Miyako + potential other pov chapter, and it's in the outline.
"Captain Shiba never did his own paperwork," Toshiro says to them, arms crossed. Perhaps it would be more effective of an intimidation tactic were he a few feet taller. "He said that's what Lieutenants do."
"A Lieutenant's job is to compensate for their captain's weaknesses," Shion says brightly, putting one hand on their cheek. "What do you think my weaknesses are, Toshiro-kun?"
Toshiro measures them up, still unsettled in their presence months after joining the division. Was it something Rangiku said? No, maybe it was the first time he walked into a slash?
"Nobody likes you," Toshiro says finally.
"Is that a weakness?" Shion asks, genuinely curious at his thought process, even if the conclusion isn't true.
"It's--" Toshiro scowls at them. "Most captains are at least popular in their own division."
"Oh! Is that what you meant. Has my division become like Seinsosuke's poor 4th, where everyone is getting bullied because neither their Captain or Lieutenant believes in defending them?"
It's been so long since something like that has happened around Shion he'd basically forgotten that was a thing.
"No! I mean. Captain Miyako used to--"
Ah.
"Miyako was very popular here," Shion agrees. "Didn't she give you any advice before you came over here? How unlike her."
"She said that I should..." Toshiro pauses, trailing off before finishing his sentence in a much less certain fashion. "Ask to be Vice-President as well as Lieutenant. Right away, before anyone else got the chance to ask you."
Worried that leaving the position empty is itself a bad result, or worried that Shion would drop the position on Nozomi, a clone with a dislike of all things in Soul Society?
"I could offer you that, sure," Shion says. In their pocket, their new phone begins to buzz. "Actually, I have a great idea! Why don't you spend the next..." How long is this going to take? Weeks? "Month, to work as both the Vice President of the 12th and the Lieutenant for the 4th?"
Toshiro stalls out.
"The fourth!?"
"President," Oko's voice cuts over the phone, almost drowned out by faint sounds of pain. "You need to get over here. He's barely hanging on. And you were right, I think. These readings--"
Shion hangs up on him and calls Seinosuke as they begin to bolt for their lab.
"Hey!" Shion starts, voice bright. "You remember how you dragged me out in the dead of night to help you out, Seinosuke-kun?"
"Never call me that again," Seinosuke says. "How are you even-- when did that butterfly get in here?"
"Well, I have a special super secret favor," Shion says, ignoring the way Toshiro has kept pace with them. It's not their fault that active speed is really not their thing. "Meet me in the labs. Life or death depending on your speed."
"Kamiya--"
They love hanging up on people.
"So, you'll be in charge over here while I'm gone," Shion says brightly as they wait by a nervously sweating Nozomi. "Don't worry, this place basically runs itself. Make sure to keep an eye out for the 4th as well, because Seinosuke has never heard of delegation, so the whole place might crash and burn. Nozomi's going to be staying behind, so ask them if you have any questions. Or simply figure it out yourself!"
Seinosuke strides through the open door, mouth pursed like he just fully bit into an unpeeled lemon.
"I don't see a life or death situation, Kamiya," he says. "If this is all some prank..."
"Not at all," Shion says, making a grand gesture towards Nozomi, who winces but obliges, pushing their half green half yellow bangs out of their eyes before drawing their zanpakuto.
"Question Endlessly, Arazome Reiku," Nozomi intones, sword growing into the length of a naginata with a curved blade on both ends. They twirl it with both hands, red energy coalescing around the edges until a round circle is completely removed from the universe and instead shows an older man surrounded by blinking monitoring devices and one Oko Yushima.
"Remember to pick up a gigai from the corner!" Shion says brightly, and steps through, Seinosuke right behind them.
Seinosuke immediately drops to his knees, grim expression settling over his face as he checks Soken's pulse.
"Hello, Sir," he says, voice returning to polite frigidity. "Can you hear me?"
There is nothing visibly wrong with Soken except for the excruciating agony.
"It.. hurt.s....."
A diagnostic kido flares out around Seinosuke as he stares down at the man.
"A Quincy..." Seinosuke mutters. "Shion, what is this?"
"A Quincy," Shion says, flicking through the results that Oko had gotten through the past few months. "You said I was right, Oko? Where's that data?"
Oko points over to one of the monitors he has attached to Soken's heart.
"You can almost see the soul chain emerging even without the monitor, he's that close to death," Oko says. "See? But that's what's strange. Humans are supposed to die, and then their soul chain begins to degrade until they are either purified or they finish hollowification. But he's not dying and then degrading, he's dying because his soul is already degrading."
"Where is the pain coming from, sir?" Seinosuke says, ignoring them completely as he pushes reiatsu into Soken, attempting to stabilize him. "Head, or chest?"
"Ch..."
Shion squints at the same monitor as Oko. No... that's still not quite right.
"Just having his soul chain degrade shouldn't be having this specific effect," Shion says. "He'd be growing a bone mask. He's not showing any of the typical signs."
Oko glances down at Soken.
"Are Quincies immune to hollowification?"
"Obviously not," Shion says. They have a couple of theories. "Hey, Seinosuke. Have we ever had a Quincy soul show up in Soul Society? I've checked the records, and found nothing."
Soken screams, beginning to thrash around.
"No," Seinosuke says. "It's the Soul Society's official stance that just like how their magic reduces souls to nothing, they also become nothing upon death."
Now that's just not true.
"You know," Shion says, ideas finally clicking together in their head towards something new and exciting. "When I was designing my modified search kido, I wanted it to work in the four worlds, Soul Society, Hueco Mundo, the Living World, and Hell. Right? And more importantly I wanted it to be able to find people who embodied those places. But I got caught up right away, because the spell counted Quincies as human and didn't separate shinigami from hollow. Weird stuff. But obviously Quincies have something about them that's not human."
Shion goes to sit down next to Seinosuke and unsheathes Ryuketsu, cutting a small slice along one of his arms-- or, attempting to. Blue geometric patterns surge along his skin, repelling the attack automatically.
"Whatever you did just made everything worse!" Seinosuke growls. "You should have told me the patient was a Quincy! I could have done research in advance. My Captain keeps records on Quincy anatomy."
"He's got an automatic defense mechanism for outside attacks," Shion says. "Blood Guise. So it has to be an internal attack. Something inside of him."
Seinosuke stares at them. They look back.
"I should have never told you what my shikai does," Seinosuke says, voice flat.
"Pretty please, Seinosuke? I'll never ask you for anything, ever again."
"Liar."
But from his robe, Seinosuke pulls out his dagger.
"Refuse and Deny, Shiratori Misasagi!"
The blade shivers, slowly shrinking into a pure white surgeon's scalpel that shimmers with a pearlescent sheen.
"No one dies while I cut them," Seinosuke says tonelessly.
As far as Shion is aware, this is more of a side effect of Seinosuke's shikai than its actual power. But it's the only part Shion's ever been able to pry out, so.
The blade sinks down into Soken's chest, cutting him open on the bare floor of his own home. Blood never even leaves his chest, denying all laws of reality to act as if nothing has changed even while the scalpel penetrates the heart.
Then the scalpel stops, clanking against something that definitely shouldn't be there.
Shion quickly grabs a hold of Soken's shoulders to stop him from thrashing off of the floor. Whatever Seinosuke's power does, it certainly doesn't numb pain.
"Do that again!" Oko calls from his place at the monitors. "Whatever hollow aura the sensors have been picking up on just surged!"
"If he has something hollow lodged in his heart, he should have died at birth," Seinosuke says, carefully beginning his second cut. "Hollow blood is poisonous to Quincies."
"What if it's his own blood?" Shion suggests, craning their neck to get a better view. "A blood clot."
"Does a blood clot normally turn into metal?"
Both of them can now see the glint of silver held within the chambers of Soken's heart.
"It's reading like a--"
Oko stops in the middle of his sentence, staring at the chart like it's just betrayed him.
"You're not supposed to be able to hollowfy while you're still alive!" He hisses.
"Cause and effect, Oko. This is Science! Is he dying because he's hollowifying, or is he reacting to what's happening to him by hollowifying. You've got some Hollow blood on you, right?"
Soken's next scream has a weird, echoey quality to it as Oko pulls out a black vial of hollow blood and tosses it to them.
Seinosuke stares at Shion unhappily.
"He won't die either way," he says. "What's that going to prove?"
"I'm trying to see if we can get all the blood in his body to turn into silver," Shion says. "The blood clot is a reaction to increased hollow presence."
Soken stirs beneath Shion's hands, still somehow capable of hearing them.
"No...." He whispers. Shion can see his lungs operate as he speaks. "It's... our ancestor.. He calls."
"Back to what I was saying earlier," Shion says. "According to my spell, Quincies don't exist. There's humans, and then shinigami, and hollows, and mixes of those."
"They obviously exist," Oko says, rapping one hand against a stuttering machine. "I have been monitoring him closely. He is a Quincy."
"Culturally, they exist," Shion says. "But as a species, they are human."
"Humans do not have strange blue veins that repel swords," Seinosuke says. Carefully, he has begun prodding at the silver metal within Soken's heart with the scalpel, trying to dislodge it without damaging too much of the muscle that Soken needs to live. It's not his best work.
"They could, though," Shion says. "If they wished really hard."
He has two theories. Well. One theory, two causes.
One: Quincies are a subdivision of Fullbringers. Fullbringers become what they are either through being associated with hollows, or because they have a fragment of the Soul King that draws hollows to them. Unknown since untested and all sources about this are unreliable. Also, one doesn't preclude the other. It could be both.
Two: The manifestation of Quincy power is about to drastically shift from previously uniform and predictable to weird and miraculous.
Three: The Soul King is a lot of things, but he is definitely not a hollow.
Therefore:
"I think he's dying from a side effect," Shion says. "An allergic reaction."
They make interlinking circles with their fingers, then draw them apart.
Oko is the first to catch on, being the only person present with actual knowledge relevant to what Shion is talking about.
"You mean--"
"Quincies are made mortally ill by hollows," Shion says, pouring some hollow blood into Soken's open chest. "But, according to my theory, Quincies are actually getting their powers from being part hollow. A contradiction. So they would need something that makes them live even though they should die."
As the black blood hits Soken's cut open heart, it turns silver.
"Granted power through hollowifcation inherited since birth. Kept alive through a fragment of the Soul King," Shion says, truly delighted. "Not anymore, though."
Even as he says that, Seinosuke swears, the balance of affairs that lets him keep Soken's heart beating despite being nearly sliced in two being blurred by the onrush of silvery metal blood.
"His soul chain's gone!" Oko snaps, hand dropping away from the monitors and reaching for his sword. "He's turning--"
A completely silver metal mask begins to extrude out of Soken's head, spilling out of his tear ducts, his nose, and his mouth before it solidifies into a hollow's mask full of jagged blue lines.
"Don't damage the metal!" Shion calls, reaching their bare hand into Soken's open chest and pulling out his still beating heart, kept preserved by Seinosuke's shikai even as the rest of the body shudders and blackens as the transformation begins in earnest. "Take care of that, Oko."
"How am I supposed to take care of it without breaking the mask!?" Oko shouts, exasperated. "All I do is portal creation!"
Shion looks at Seinosuke.
"I don't fight," Seinosuke says, in a tone that implies he hopes both Shion and Oko die.
"You don't need to use shikai to fight a newly formed hollow," Shion says, voice flat. "Just stab it a couple of times." They shove Oko forward while they busy themselves with putting the still freshly bleeding heart in a jar half full of hollow blood, carefully sealing it off.
Oko shrieks, his own katana releasing to its full form of a double headed voulge. He sets one tip of the blade on the ground in a position reminiscent of how Shion had first found him on the brink of death from Mayuri's poison all those decades ago, and stares at the hollow definitely.
"Don't come any closer," he says. "I'll send you to the Dangai!"
"You lose that mask, you lose all funding for the next century," Shion says, deadly serious. They shake the jar in their hands a little, watching the mix of black and red blood turn a beautiful silver. "I'll crush all your current projects to pieces with my own hands."
Oko gains a sudden burst of courage, swiping out with his blade to cut through the midsection of the blue and white hollow. But it barely even flinches.
"There's no point," Seinosuke says, lip curling. "My shikai denies people the ability to move on to the next part of the afterlife, whatever that might be for them. If he hadn't been partially a hollow when he was alive, this wouldn't have been able to happen at all."
What a fun ability.
"And how long is that going to last...?" Shion murmurs.
Seinosuke gives them another pissed off look for forcing him to divulge more and more secrets.
"...It's permanent. But If the person can find the way to a different afterlife than what they were originally meant for, it won't be a problem."
The type of thing that would be really good against ghosts about to turn into hollows, and really bad for humans about to die, hm.
"We'll pin him and purify him, then," Shion says, nodding decisively as the heart finally beats its last within the jar. "It's a little kind, but it's the only way."
They point their finger at the hollow that used to be Soken Ishida.
"Bakudo #61: Rikujokoro. Carriage of thunder. Bridge of a spinning wheel. Six spokes become six strikes!"
Lighting flashes and becomes solid beams of light that thud into the hollow, forming a spoked wheel of pillars that all crunch into the hollow's midsection, forcing it to stay in place as it howls.
They carefully tuck the jar away before approaching the creature, placing one hand on their mask while their second uses Ryuketsu as if she were an oyster-shucking knife to pry the silver-bone mask and reveal the haunted face beneath.
"Hhellp....mm...."
They reverse grip on their sword, and gently tap his forehead with the pommel, leaving a brightly glowing sigil behind as the sword lifts up.
"Have fun in your next life!" They say.
"Yyou...." The ghost murmurs as it dissolves into the ground. "Promised...."
"Well, that was a lot shorter and more successful than I was expecting," Shion says, clapping his hands together. "Alright! That should be everything. Oko, be a dear and drop Seinosuke off back in the Seireitei and then come back here and clean all of this up, alright? Feel free to take the rest of the week off, Toshiro's been left to figure things out on his own."
Tucked away in the kitchen, a phone begins to ring.
One ring. Two rings. Three--
Shion picks up the receiver.
"Father, what did you do!?" Ryuken Ishida spits into the phone from the other end. "My son calls me at work, telling me that my wife has collapsed on the floor, and yet not a single smug call from you? I demand that you come over here and give me some answers!"
Well hello there.
"I'm sorry, Soken can't come to the phone right now," Shion says, smile lighting up his face so starkly that Oko drops the monitoring device he'd been holding to crash onto the floor in favor of yanking Seinosuke and himself back into the Seireitei.
A short, suspicious pause and then Ryuken's voice comes back through much more controlled than before.
"My father lives alone. Who the hell are you?"
It's so wonderful of him to ask.
"My name's Captain Shion Kamiya," Shion says, twirling a strand of hair around their finger. "But you can call me Shion!"
"I don't recognize that name," Ryuken says coldly. "Put my father on the phone."
"I'd love to, but I can't," Shion says, shaking his head sadly. "I contacted him because I was worried about his health months ago, and this morning the worst came to pass."
"What?"
"He died not ten minutes ago. And you're saying that your wife just collapsed?"
"You--" Another pause to collect himself. "You're the reason some useless little shinigami has been following my father around for the past few months, aren't you. Bring his body with you to the hospital. We can't have this discussion over the phone."
The phone clicks as Ryuken hangs up.
Not even the chance to explain that there's not much left of the body to bury! Not that Shion would have explained that anyway. They love delivering bad news in person.
Also...
Shion looks down at their Captains haori and full robes. Perhaps they should go shopping.
The waiting room at Karakura General Hospital is full of ancient, slightly yellowed hairstyle magazines that Shion carefully picks through while they wait their turn in line, carefully tucking one away to give to Shinji. Hopefully he will take their kind gift in the way it was meant.
The receptionist clears her throat, pointedly ignoring that she saw them do that.
"Name and appointment?" She says.
"Shion Kamiya. Here to see--"
The receptionist nearly presses down on a key so hard it breaks.
"The director said you might be coming," she says, though from the way she's looking at Shion Ryuken may as well have said that he was waiting on a visit from the grim reaper. "Take the elevator down to the basement level."
Shion adjusts the way his haori lays over his new soft and shimmery pink and silver striped sweater over a black turtleneck and slacks. It can't be the rhinestone skull clip in his hair that's doing it, can it? Maybe it's the sunglasses? The messenger bag slung across one shoulder?
Either way, they give a cheerful wave to the lady as the doors close shut around him, and he begins to descend.
The elevator has a floor labeled 'basement', but when Shion arrives at that floor the doors do not open, the entire elevator instead shuddering for a second, then continuing to drop.
The air is cold when the doors finally open, and Shion steps out into a series of hallways all done in silver and glass, both treated with reishi to make them strong. Not strong enough to completely block out reiatsu senses, though.
Ryuken Ishida is tall man with shoulder length white hair and sharp glasses, his three piece grey suit obscured only by the labcoat haphazardly worn over it. He is staring at the unconscious body of his wife, hooked up to a private hospital bed. Even her unconsciousness isn't peaceful, pain reaching out from her dreams to labor her breathing.
In three months, she'll breathe her last, never once reawakening.
"Found you!" Shion says, causing him to whirl and instinctively reach towards his wrist.
He stops before he materializes a Quincy bow, though.
"You must be Mr. Kamiya," Ryuken says, words so frosty that Shion wouldn't be surprised if he was the incarnation of Toshiro's zanpakuto. "I don't see my father's body. I shouldn't be surprised that a shinigami would lie about that."
It's not often they get to meet someone for the first time on the worst day of their life.
Their eyes drift to his wife.
The worst day of his life...so far!
"No, I have it right here," Shion says, pulling two separate jars out of their bag. One of them holds a formerly human heart that has turned completely black and become mostly encased in a hardened silver metal.
The other holds a silver-white mask with blue markings.
They see him finally attempt to trigger his own Quincy bow, and grab his wrist, interrupting him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Shion says. "Or you'll be the next to end up like your wife."
He yanks his hand back from Shion's grasp, but stops attempting to use reishi.
"You'd prefer that, wouldn't you," he says, voice dark. "All of us, completely gone."
"Oh, this has nothing to do with my preferences," Shion lies cheerily. "I'd actually love to know why you weren't affected at all, though. You're ruining my current theory that you were all killed based on a specific shared progenitor."
At that, Ryuken's eyes widen a little, clearly having his own little realization about who, exactly, could have the power to have done such a thing to his wife.
"I hate the Quincy..." He mutters, turning away from Shion to stare down at the unconscious women on the bed.
In his eyes, in his shoulders, in his heart, he is attempting to hold onto the hope that she might live.
Shion watches that hope die.
"You know," Shion says. "There are stronger things than blood. I shouldn't have second guessed myself earlier. Maybe the power is cultural, not genetic."
Ryuken doesn't look back at them, hand drifting down to cover his wife's but Shion knows he's listening.
"So, it would have targeted everyone who thought, in their heart of hearts, that they were Quincy."
Slumped shoulders, bending under new weight.
"What did you do to my father, Mr. Kamiya?"
He's the type of person who self inflicts burdens on himself. Shion's favorite.
"It's my working theory that Quincy souls are being diverted away from the Soul Society," Shion says. It's not really an answer to Ryuken's question. It's okay. It's more important that he know this than that he know about all of that. "Back to the one who considers himself the sole Quincy that matters."
Ryuken's jaw clenches.
"That's impossible," he says. "He's--"
He's not dead. Ryuken knows that.
"He's got no hold on us," Ryuken grates out.
"He's certainly got no hold on you, Dr. Ishida," Shion says. They rattle the jar with the mask a little.
"And you expect me to believe that something caused by-- by Quincy lineage turned my father into a hollow?" He whirls on Shion, clearly outraged.
He's so cute.
"No, no," Shion says. "I did that!"
The outrage turns into genuine rage.
"--To save his mortal soul," Shion tacks on. Careful, careful.. "It was an unfortunate by-product of preventing his soul from going the way of all the Quincies before him. Don't worry! I cleansed the hollow myself. He's safely moved on. Completely relieved of all his burdens! Pinky promise."
They offer their hand to Ryuken, who doesn't take it.
"Mr. Kamiya--"
"I'd love if you called me Shion."
"Mr. Kamiya. I hope you haven't come here with the offer of turning my wife into a hollow."
Shion smiles at him guilelessly.
"Here's my number, Doctor. I'm looking forward to your call."
As they walk back to the elevator, they pause as they hear Ryuken's phone ring.
"What?" Ryuken snaps.
"Ryuken!" Isshin Kurosaki's voice echoes through the hall, ragged with grief and desperation. "It's-- she's--d...dead. Oh gods... I don't know anything about what to say to the kids... I--"
"Is there anything left of her?" Ryuken demands. "Anything at all."
An agonized silence.
"It... there was a hollow. I sensed it too late. Ry--"
And there, in the cold white walls of his own hospital, Ryuken throws his phone so hard that it craters reiatsu reinforced steel.
Having Toshiro drag Oko into their main office feels somehow deeply nostalgic.
"Hello, Toshiro-kun, what have you brought with you today?" Shion says, setting down the various vials with metal shavings that litter the lab surfaces. So far, nothing appears to have even the slightest ability to melt the Still Silver they'd obtained, but that's no reason not to keep trying.
Toshiro crosses his arms.
"I found him attempting to make use of the contraband storage area," he says, glaring at Oko.
Oko doesn't notice, his full attention purely on Shion.
Shion sets down the vial and looks over at Oko.
"The contraband area?" They say. Did they have one of those... hm. Okay, they remember now. "There's not much in there, is there? I don't really classify contraband."
This doesn't improve Toshiro's mood.
"He was attempting to get into a set of records that looked like they were from a Captain before you," Toshiro reports. "Even if you don't use the storage, it looks like you at least kept stuff the way it used to be."
Shion's eyes snap to Oko, humour at the situation slowly fading away.
"You were looking for some of Kisuke-senpai's stuff, Oko?" They ask, leaning forward towards him, voice soft.
"N-no," Oko stutters. "It's just... you asked me about soul alteration... And the Captain..."
"If there was something useful in there, I would have told you," Shion says, voice very dry. "We are trying for new avenues here, Oko! Not old ones."
And it's not why their annoyed, anyway.
"Toshiro-kun," Shion says, voice cheery. "The only file that Central 46 didn't completely redact into uselessness when they went through and butchered everything was the one Kisuke-senpai kept on his knowledge and theories on all the zanpakuto he knew about in the Soul Society. You're too young to be on it, but it's rather dangerous information to have."
Toshiro blanches a little, even though compared to many shinigami they know he's rather open about his shikai's abilities. Confident that knowledge won't be enough to counter it, even though that's definitely not true. Anything known about can be averted.
"So, Oko," Shion murmurs. "What are we going to do w--"
Their phone rings.
Shion grabs it as they see the location their being called from, one hand held up to silence Toshiro and Oko as they hold the phone to their ear with the other.
"Hi~," Shion says eyes creased a little as Toshiro recoils a little from their smile. "This is Shion Kamiya. How can I help you?"
"You know who it is," Ryuken says darkly. "I found the same silver that you had. Get back here, shinigami."
"Oh I'm so sorry to hear about your wife's passing," Shion says. "I hope she didn't feel a thing."
Ugly silence.
"And bring the mask."
The phone clicks off.
"Oh, well, we'll have to put this discussion on hold," Shion says. "Or not, actually. Toshiro, you know the drill. You're in charge while I'm gone. Just do whatever you want to Oko. It's fine."
They look around for a mirror in their lab. Why have they never ordered one..?
"Captain Kamiya...?" Toshiro repeats, voice strained.
"Hm?"
They look up from carefully checking their hair.
"Yes, Toshiro-kun?"
"Captain Ichimaru came here to poke around while you were gone, last time. I don't.. Have the ability to kick him out, when you're not here."
Shion laughs.
"Why would you do that? I have nothing to hide!"
"But, he's..."
It's a day for tense arguments, which means it's Shion's absolute favorite kind of day.
Ryuken and Isshin are both standing in front of the entrance to the Karakura cemetery, voices raised.
"I'm not inviting a strange Shinigami back to my house, Isshin. Your clinic will serve."
"Your house has a private doctor's room! My kids show up at the clinic, Ryuken! And more than that, I shouldn't be meeting strange Shinigami."
"Your kids show up at the clinic? My son lives at home, and he's driven the last three babysitters away. What do you expect me to do? Just--"
"I really hate to interrupt," Shion says, causing both men to whirl on them.
They wave, their only modification to their outfit from their last visit to the living world being the changing out of the slacks-- far too formal-- into some pale shorts to match the sweater.
Ishin pales.
"You're..." he says, eyes taking in their captain's haori. "Ryuken, you didn't mention you met Shion Kamiya."
"I told you what they looked like," Ryuken says, clearly annoyed. "Who else could I have possibly been describing?"
"There's tons of shinigami with orange-ish hair and strange dispositions!"
Shion is pretty sure it's just them and Rangiku.
Ryuken clicks his tongue.
"Whatever. I don't need you anymore, since you're clearly not going to be helpful to anyone. As long as you really can confirm this... Shion Kamiya's name and rank."
"Yeah, sure," Isshin says, voice casual. "I remember Shion, I was in the meeting where we gave him his Lieutenant job. From, uh..." He gives Shion a searching glance. "He used to be the Fourth seat of the 12th Division. Urahara's division."
"Kisuke-senpai is an inspiration to me," Shion says.
While this should reassure no one, it actually seems to have reassured Ryuken. Truly fascinating.
"You can leave, Isshin," Ryuken says flatly. "It seems me and... Kamiya here, have much to discuss."
a/n: you know, I really thought that I'd have managed to hit canon's starting date by now. But still, there's some important stuff to cover... I've noted the votes for a Miyako + potential other pov chapter, and it's in the outline.
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- Pronouns
- He/Him
This story is a credit to the Bleach fandom.
Zanpakuto Glossary
Now that I've started introducing more made up and semi-canon zanpakuto into the mix, I figured I'd start a list of all zanpakuto names and shikai releases that I've been dropping left and right. This glossary is currently for non canon or semi canon only.
| Character Name | Zanpakuto Name | Name Translation | Shikai Release Call | Bankai | Notes |
| Shion Kamiya | Ryuketsu | Bloodshed | Rejoice in Suffering | Chi Tenjou | Non-Canon |
| Oko Yushima | Sumitsukigasa | Ink Moon Halo | Open | -- | Filler Sword |
| Nozomi Inaba | Arazome Reikuu | Faded Crimson Emerging Void | Question Endlessly | -- | Significant Alteration of a Filler Sword |
| Seinosuke Yamada | Shiratori no Misasagi | Mausoleum of the White Bird | Refuse and Deny | -- | Canon Character, Invented Sword |
| Miyako Shiba | Shizuka Higure | Peaceful Sunset | Bask in the Sunlight, Retreat to the Shade | -- | Canon Character, Invented Sword |
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Shion is just such a delightful character to read I can't wait for more.
- Location
- Dallas
Honestly, I want a hollow heart in a jar now. And a sick as fuck silver hollow mask to display over my fireplace.
Gonna echo that sentiment, Shion is a joy to read because he just fucks with everyone.
Gonna echo that sentiment, Shion is a joy to read because he just fucks with everyone.
In canon Urahara promises Isshin to help hide him from any shinigami that come looking: however, by the time that happened in this world, Shion had already paid a visit to the visored, who then told Urahara abt it. In addition, Shion is known in Soul Society for their ability to track people, and Shion has captain level reiatsu that they are Now concealing through a gigai, but that they definitely didn't conceal whenever they were just coming through to talk to the Visored; Isshins been well warned that Shion is doing their own shady stuff in the area, and that Urahara can't make guarantees that Shion can't find him.
So, Isshin's not 'surprised' he's just like... why did Shion chose to focus on Ryuken instead of me? sucks to be him though lol
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- Location
- California, USA
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Could Isshin even detect their reatsu? I thought at this point he was basically a normal human, not even able to see spirits or hollows.
I still don't understand why Shion still hasn't unlocked his bankai. It seems like his zanpakutou is willing to unlock the bankai for minimal effort on his part.
Unlocking bankai is a two stage process: one. you get good enough to be able to manifest your spirit into the world. As Ryuketsu mentioned earlier Shion could absolutely do this. Two: you pass whatever trial necessary. In canon this usually is represented by the idea that you'd spend however long sparring with your sword until you died or won, but some shinigami have alternate unlock conditions; Mayuri, for example, got Bankai through proving his scientific ability to his sword instead of a head on battle.
In Shion's case, Ryuketsu is willing to offer him an alternate- and Fast-- win condition that Shion, knowing Ryuketsu's personality, thinks has a higher chance of him dying than he's comfortable with. So he would need to be convinced that he was in more danger without a bankai than by taking the risk to gain one. He's not someone who likes to take gambles with his own life, no matter how careless he may pretend to be.
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Moonfeather
"We solidify ourselves everyday."
- Location
- Neverland
Considering that the Zanpakuto spirit is really the true self of a person and that bankai tends to be similar to the covert or inert personality of the user, this is very telling.
Wild Goose Chase
Miyako had gotten too used to being able to predict the ebb and flow of terrible incidents from the boredom or excitement on her Captain's face. Shion would get bored slightly before something ended, and excited days, weeks, or sometimes years before it began. Mostly because he never really seemed to know exactly when or what would happen, just that something would. She hadn't realized what a crutch it had been until she left the division and was left... not floundering. But it had been strange, being back under Captain Ukitake. He was a careful and considerate man, though still much work fell onto her shoulders as he simply fell ill and had to stop working on his various responsibilities.
He would not be the type of person humming to himself as he pretends ignorance to the chaos of his own division.
It felt like all the brightness had drained out of the division when Kaien died. And poor Rukia... Miyako had done her best for the girl, but...
In the end, hadn't she abandoned her too? Left her to the confused whispers of her new nobility while Miyako took the promotion and discarded her name. But it had just been--
She had felt like she couldn't comfort anyone, anymore. A widow who'd cut down her own husband… Rukia had looked at her with such guilt. Captain Ukitake as well. She didn't want their pity. It was still easier to speak with Shion, who seemed to have been born without sympathy.
It would've been easier if Kukaku had been mad. Her sister in law... former sister in law. She was always fiery, loud, 'pissed as hell', as she liked to say it. But instead--
"If Isshin wants the clan to die, I guess it'll die," she'd said. "Good fucking riddance. I hate this place."
But Miyako can't let it die. She has to hold on. And, in the end...
"Rukia?" Miyako repeats in disbelief, staring at the report in her hand. "On the execution block!?"
Rangiku crosses her arms across her chest, blowing a strand of bright orange hair out of her face.
"I know," she says. "What's with that? No one's used that thing since I even came to the Seireitei!"
That can't be right. Rukia's a Kuchiki.
"Her brother has had nothing to say about this," Miyako says, still staring at the report as if it will miraculously change.
"He's the one that brought her back in the first place," Rangiku says. "Seriously... makes me glad I never found any blood relations."
"We have to do something about this," Miyako says, rising to her feet.
"Yes, but what can we..."
Rangiku pauses to look up and shield her eyes as the protective shield array that covers the entire city suddenly flares to life, blindingly bright.
"What the hell," Rangiku says. "Is that some type of... spirit bomb?" Even as she says that, the golden sphere that had been hitting the barrier explodes as it breaks through, sending little dark specs dropping out of the sky.
In front of Miyako, a pure black hell butterfly highlighted with tangerine orange spots flutters down.
"Miyako-chan," Shion's voice merrily projects through the animal as if it were nothing more than a human world music speaker. "It seems that we are under attack."
"Hello, Captain Kamiya," Miyako says. "You wouldn't have anything to do with this, right?"
Rangiku stiffens and stares at the butterflies, mouth pursed. She doesn't much like Shion.
Of course, most reasonable people don't like him. It's only been mildly less stressful recently, what with him taking long vacations into the human world and haphazardly leaving Hitsugaya in charge whenever he pleases.
"You think so highly of me! It's quite exciting to see someone successfully break the Soul Society's barrier, isn't it? Makes you think that all of society's barriers might be breaking down soon enough."
That wasn't a 'no, I didn't do it'.
"So, what did you want from me, then?"
"Toshiro-kun tells me that they put young Rukia on the execution block."
Miyako goes cold.
"I know. If you read your own reports, your Lieutenant wouldn't have had to tell you."
It had been absurd when she read the news. But horrible things that her former President tells her do not long rest in the realm of hypotheticals.
"And deny Toshiro-kun the chance to read all of my files?"
Shion's laughter has a hollow edge from the way it projects through the butterfly.
"I'm joking, Lieutenant. Joking! I have a very special task for you as well. But that's for later! Since I can't order other Captains around, let's not call it a task. Let's call it a request. Captain Miyako... it's nothing much, but I think in about two days from now, I'd like you to check in on Captain Shunsui. I think one of the packages I'm expecting was accidentally addressed to his division instead of mine."
That doesn't sound like a Captain level task, that sounds like a Lieutenant chore.
Rangiku makes an insulted sound next to her.
"Do your own dirty work, Shion!" she says.
"Hi, Rangiku! Don't worry. I am."
The butterfly stills for a second as a sound very similar to a disconnection dial permeates the air, and then flutters off.
"You shouldn't do it," Rangiku says immediately. "Though I don't really think anything that dangerous could happen with Captain Shunsui around."
What Rangiku doesn't know is that Shion isn't any good at locating physical packages. Just people. Miyako doesn't have any intention of delivering whomever it is to Shion, of course. But...
Overhead, she watches the sky repair itself, and feels cold.
Shion wouldn't be this excited over a singular execution. Something terrible has happened. Is happening. But if that's the case...
Why does everything seem so... normal?
Shion likes having Toshiro around. It's good having that youthful energy that combines both righteousness, nosiness, and worry for their own dignity.
Unfortunately, he can't be allowed to eavesdrop on this meeting when he's prone to telling Hinamori, Aizen's young lieutenant, everything he worries about or suspects. Not that that will be an issue for much longer!
They clap their hands together twice.
"Okay, Toshiro-kun! You get the rest of the day off! Have fun out there!"
Toshiro glowers at them.
"I'm not a child," he says.
If he's not a child, then he should simply grow up. Age in soul society is a tenuous thing, fueled partially by amount of reiatsu and partially from how old you feel. Having captain level spiritual pressure is enough to keep you aging as slowly as you want, but it's the mentality that keeps one young! Kisuke looks like he's gained ten years over the past century, which is just terrible. Shion's looked exactly the same for over 200 years.
"Yes, yes," Shion says cheerily. "You have to go away so I can play with my toys, Toshiro-kun!"
If Miyako were here, she'd have refused to leave point plank. His mistake for making it too obvious that he's always talking about people when he makes jokes like this.
But Toshiro assumes it's another lab project. Not that he's wrong.
"Don't push more work on me later to make up for this," Toshiro says darkly, and lets himself out of the room.
Half an hour later, Captain Kaname Tousen walks in.
"Kamiya," he says, voice slow and dark. "I gave you an ultimatum. You've sat on it for long enough."
In the century that Shion has had this lab, they've never had a chair for visitors, let alone a cleared desk space. But in just half an hour, the entire room has transformed. Shion sits patiently at his desk, hands laced together over some paperwork. A wicker chair has specifically been brought in and then pulled out on the other side of the table for Tousen to sit down on.
Kaname does not sit down.
"I'm glad you could find your way here," Shion says, beaming. "So, you asked for a way to regain your sight while also maintaining your sanity. Isn't that right."
"...While maintaining my humanity," Tousen corrects Shion. "Though sanity was also implied."
Was it?
"I am going to lay out for you," Shion says, sweeping one arm through the air in a grand gesture, "Some hypothetical futures. How human you remain..." It's not like it's impossible. "That will depend on your choices."
"I am not here for a fortune telling. I am here for--"
"Your sight, yes, yes. It will please you immensely to know that in all hypothetical paths before you, you will be able to see, at some point. We are just discussing where and how." Shion's close-eyed smile deepens the laugh wrinkles that are barely beginning to form in the corners of their eyes.
"Path one. I do like this one, though it's not my top choice. You stick with Captain Aizen. You are eventually through his beneficence granted the ability to become a Vizored-like being. That transformation into an animal themed monster-- undoubtedly a bug themed monster for you, Kaname-- enables you to see, but brings with it the most wondrous parts of Hollowification, namely that negative emotions are brought more easily to the surface and can easily spin out of control. Maybe an anger that you are so skilled at hiding right now bubbles to the surface, and you find yourself throwing yourself into a battle you cannot win, and possibly self-destructing and attempting to kill your dearest friend out of spite."
Shion pauses.
"This transformation only allows you to see while hollowified, and I'm not trying to imply you wouldn't pick a fight as you are now. I know you would."
"You don't know me," Kaname says flatly.
But Shion does know him. Isn't he someone who picks a fight with Kenpachi Zaraki just because he doesn't like him? Is that the work of someone who has a firm control over his temper and his dislike of his fellow shinigami?
Of course, that hasn't happened yet. And it probably never will.
"Path two," Shion continues, "Is very exciting. For me, at least. While Captain Aizen does not consider sanity a particularly wanted attribute in his Hollow-Shinigami fusion attempts, Kisuke-senpai did. In fact, I've been informed that the Vizored themselves are only as stable as they are--"
Well. If you consider stable a relative term. Which Shion definitely does.
"--due to the use of the Hogyoku to stabilize their physical transformation and some special secret concoction of Kisuke's... he absolutely refused to give further details beyond 'containing Quincy arrows and human souls', that acted to stabilize their own souls, preventing insanity. Fascinating, really. I bet that Quincy blood or souls would have worked better, but he didn't have any. Well, that was his problem and not mine."
"But you don't have a Hogyoku," Tousen says.
"It's very tragic, I know," Shion says. "So in this case, you would allow Captain Aizen to hollowify you, then open a pathway through to the human realm, and betray his secrets to Kisuke-senpai, and ask him to do the honors."
Shion waits patiently.
"That will not work," Tousen says.
"And why not, Kaname?"
They are already speaking of traitorous things. Will he tell them even more?
There is a silence. It stretches into a minute, and then five minutes, and then a full hour of nothing at all.
"Soon, both the Hogyoku that Aizen made… And the one Urahara made... will be in Aizen's hands. So there's no chance."
True.
Shion twirls his finger through a strand of his hair. It is kind of tight timing, leaving so much to the last minute, but Kaname wouldn't be so agreeable without time pressure. One must make sacrifices.
"There is, of course, the option where I do the work, and don't leave it to others," they say. Ryuketsu likes when that's the chosen option. "But I have… A couple of questions. Two of them, to be precise. One. I've heard from Shinji that the hollowification actually spread from one to the next of them, resembling something almost like an infectious plague-- despite it not infecting you. Would you say this was the case?"
The words are pulled from Tousen's mouth with the heaviness of his lieutenant's own chains.
"That is the case. Hollowifying a shinigami is ultimately no different from what happens to a normal plus soul, once the Hogyoku removes the barriers within the soul. When negative emotions consume them, they fall faster. The plague was one of fear, despair, and horror. I remained immune through self control."
Shion doesn't bother to disguise his joy.
"And question two. You remember the man you killed… Tokinada Tsunayashiro. The one with the ancestral family blade. The one who killed your only friend."
"I have other friends," Kaname grates out. "But yes, I remember the murderer of my childhood companion."
"Yes, do still play at being friends with Captain Komamura. But returning to my question… You wouldn't still have that sword, would you?"
The one that copies other Shikai?
Seinosuke has been having a very unpleasant day. Strike that out, he's been having two very unpleasant days. It's ridiculous that four not very powerful intruders could still be out there sending annoying low level shinigami to the infirmary. It's ridiculous that no one powerful in Soul Society seems particularly motivated to clean them out. And most of all--
Seinosuke Yamada's younger brother, Hanataro Yamada, is a short and unassuming figure with permanently widened, dead eyes, always stuck in a state of alarm over some mundanity or another. In terms of talent, he's an embarrassment, and in terms of ambition, he doesn't even aspire for Lieutenant.
None of this explains why he has dragged a half dead looking orange haired shinigami into Seinosuke's infirmary room and asked him to heal him.
"What," Seinosuke says, voice dangerously slow and clipped. "Is going on here?"
Hanatarou stutters a bit, eyes shifting wildly back and forth.
"This is-- Ah--"
He gulps.
"This is one of the intruders who lost-- or maybe won? a fight with Lieutenant Renji Abarai. He needs medical help, and, well... You're the best."
"The best option you have, you mean," Seinosuke mutters. This feels even worse than doing things for Kamiya. But family is family.
He crouches down in front of the body, starting a basic reiatsu check. Horrible injuries, but they are already healing at a rapid pace-- whoever this young man is, he's got Lieutenant levels of reiatsu, capable of replenishing expended energy quickly.
"Just slap some bandages on him and he'll be fine," Seinosuke says, giving his expert medical opinion. "No one at his power level will die of only this level of bleeding. I don't see a division number on his uniform, though...?"
"Ah," Hanataro says again.
Seisusuke's eyes narrow.
"H--he's.. He told me he was human," Hanatarou says, which is fundamentally, 100% not true. "And he's here to save Rukia!"
"Who?"
Hanatarou looks like he's about to cry. No, wait, Seinosuke can feel some vague memory returning to him. He's heard this name before.
"Rukia Kuchiki! She's in the 13th Division and she's--"
Okay, he remembers now. Hisana's sister. Hisana had been an awful case. People can't die while under his knife, but he hadn't wanted to be responsible for maintaining her worst, most sick self for infinite years. Not to mention he didn't want to keep his shikai permanently active and in one location. Would the Kuchikis have handcuffed him to her side if he'd told them of the option?
He'd brought Kamiya in just to get some of the pressure off of him, and it had worked, in its own way. Not something he liked remembering.
"I don't care. He'll be fine in a couple hours..."
Even as he says that, the body groans and stirs, eyes blearily fluttering open as he jerks up.
Seinosuke freezes. He hadn't been paying that much attention before, but--
He's been attending Lieutenant meetings with Kaien Shiba for nigh over a century. If he couldn't recognize the Shiba genes, he'd have to call himself blind.
"Who're you!?" The mysterious Shiba snaps, eyes flickering between him and Hanatarou. "And where's Ganju? He alright?"
That would be Ganju Shiba. They'd been forced into exile beyond the Soul Society... well, except for Miyako. Was this some revenge plot? Did Miyako know about it?
…
Did Kamiya know about it.
"I," Seinosuke says imperiously, "Am Lieutenant Seinosuke Yamada of the 4th Division."
"He's my older brother," Hanatarou adds in. "And.. uh.." He gives a furtive look at Seinosuke. "Ganju-san is in the sewers. He didn't want to risk coming all the way up here."
For some reason, this reassures the strange shinigami.
"As long as everyone's alright..." He mutters, hand drifting down to clutch at his own injuries. As he moves around, something oddly white falls from his robes, clattering across the hospital floors.
A white hollow mask with several red stripes.
Seinosuke hisses, hand falling to his zanpakuto.
Hanatarou steps in front of the man, weak arms out.
"No!" His voice squeaks up and breaks. "Whatever you're thinking, he's not dangerous. Well, he is dangerous, but--"
The young man grunts a little.
"I can speak for myself, you know." His dark eyes are clear of fear as he stares up at Seinosuke, proving his poor judgment. "My name is Ichigo Kurosaki. Rukia made me into a substitute shinigami, which saved my life, and now I'm going to save hers."
His unsheathed shikai radiates the power of a strong lieutenant. There are stronger, of course-- should he meet the lieutenants of the 1st, 11th, or 12th, he'd have to curse his foul luck. But that is nothing to be ashamed of, when he seems so very young.
Perhaps he will even succeed in only meeting captains who won't kill an upstart. But not if he acts to defy the rules of Soul Society... So he will soon be dead and gone.
...
And once again leave Miyako without a Shiba heir.
"Hanatarou," Seinosuke says, voice cold. "Cover your ears or be prepared to bear the weight of knowledge."
He picks up the Hollow mask from where it had fallen on the ground.
"Ichigo. Have you ever met a shinigami around my age. Pink-orange hair, dark eyes. They'd have been wearing a pink skull and crossbones clip in their hair."
No recognition in his eyes.
"Huh..? I haven't seen anyone like that. Why are you going off topic?"
So someone that wasn't Kamiya did this to him? Had he had a run in with one of the exiled Vizored? ... The exiled Urahara Kisuke? Seinosuke has been forced to do a lot of research in order to figure out what on earth Kamiya was up to with his Quincy hollowification incident. This can't be unrelated to what he'd found in Unohana's own medical records on the incident.
He tosses the mask up and down in his hand.
"It protected him," Hanatarou cuts in softly. "Brother..."
"You are not the first shinigami to have a hollow mask," Seinosuke says to him, stopping Hanatarou dead in his tracks. "Though you seem the most... sane. And not infectious, otherwise I'd have to kill you to avenge my brother, which seems like a miserable time. If you rely on it, it will consume you. If you cut yourself off from it, you will be dead before you see the execution platform. A conundrum."
Ichigo stiffens.
"I won't lose control!" He snaps. "I'll work on it. I'll get stronger!"
"You will never be individually strong enough to defeat yourself," Seinosuke observes, almost amused. "Though I suppose that is the point of a bankai trial."
Ugh. What if he really does die before Seinosuke can notify Miyako... He can't let Kamiya make her life worse so easily.
"Rest here, and continue on when you are healed," Seinosuke says, finally. "It's not as if Soul Society will unravel tomorrow morning. Unless you have some other pressing issue...?"
Ichigo shakes his head.
"I got separated from my friends," he says. "But I have faith in them. I think they'll be just fine."
Is that so? Then that's enough time to start running some blood tests.
Uryu Ishida prided himself on being prepared for any situation, every eventuality. Not like his father, who seemed to have moved on far too quickly from his mother's death. Uryu had come here prepared to fight Soul Society's best and come out on top, as a Quincy should. Stealing shinigami robes for him and Orihime to use to blend in was a natural scenario, and it had worked like a charm, until it hadn't.
And now the shinigami that had been chasing them had abruptly halted.
"You don't want to be over there."
"Well, we certainly don't want to be with you!" Orihime calls back, arms crossed.
"No, I mean--"
Even as the shinigami continues to speak, a trace of sweat visible on his neck, a dark, smoky barrier slowly shimmers into existence between them and him, and the slight fear on his face turns into a combination of pity and terror.
"--I haven't seen that barrier in almost 90 years," the man whispers. And then he bolts away.
Uryu stares at the barrier. It doesn't look any more dangerous than anything Orihime can generate. And it's just kept other shinigami away from them.
"...Let's keep going," Uryu says.
A few blocks later, Orihime starts a little as a small cut opens up on her palm.
"Huh!?" She looks around wildly. "Is somebody there?"
Uryu keeps his bow out too, but sees nothing.
Orihima laughs nervously.
"Maybe I just cut myself on something earlier and didn't notice," She says.
"You're not that much of a clutz," Uryu mutters, but relaxes a little. It's possible. "Let's just try and move out of this area. Even if it's deserted, it's a little..."
A block down, the next cut slices through his upper arm. As he stumbles, hissing from the pain, Orihime rushes over to help him out.
"Here, I can heal that," She offers, biting her lip. Then she blinks, staring at something behind him.
"Hey, Uryu..."
There's more confusion than fear in her voice, but it turns his stomach.
"Isn't that barrier, like, closer? Than before?"
The smoky barrier from earlier still hangs in the sky. As Uryu turns to look at it... It's two blocks behind them. They've traveled further than that. He's sure of it.
And, looking around, he can see faint traces of smoke in the air far, far in front of them, and also on either side, just far enough to be dismissed as nothing but heat waves in the morning air.
But heat waves don't form a cube in the air.
"Orihime," Uryu starts, hands clenching. "Stay calm. This is--"
An odd crackle as if from an old loudspeaker shivers across the area.
"Hello, you two!"
It's a distorted voice, but the tone is... Oddly familiar. No. It can't be.
"Us?" Orihime repeats, staring around. "Uryu," She says in a loudly pitched whisper. "I think I'm beginning to hallucinate!"
"Be quiet," Uryu mutters. "Keep your voice down."
"Yes, you! Hello Orihime-chan! And hello Uryu-kun~ It's so wonderful that you guys could make it."
Eyes darting around for where the sound could be coming from, but the only thing beside the long, white buildings that surround them are the delicate black butterflies that drift through the air from time to time.
"How do you know our names, shinigami," Uryu snaps.
Again, that tone.
"You say that like it's an in-sult~" There's an odd mechanized glitch in the middle of the word that shivers around them. "Have shinigami ever done something to you, Uryu-kun?"
"The shinigami are responsible for the eradication of the Quincies!"
Orihime gasps.
"Oh, tha-at." Again with the glitch. "But that was such a long time ago...and your hatred is so visceral. So pointed. What about your family, Uryu-kun? Have they been era-dic-ated?"
"Is that a threat!?" Uryu snaps. "Don't touch my family. That's got nothing to do with this!"
He only has his dad left, after his grandfather died of a heart attack and his mother got deathly ill soon after.
He won't let this shinigami target his father, even if the guy is useless and insufferable and moved on from his mother far to quickly--
"It's just a bit of harmless curiosity, Uryu-kun,"
No.
"And what about you, Orihime-chan? I don't mean to leave you alone."
"It's okay!" Orihime says. "But, uh, Shinigami-san..."
"Yes?"
"It feels like the box around us is still getting... smaller."
A giggle. And now he can't delude himself any longer. It's not just familiar. He knows who it is.
An orange haired person in a pink and silver striped sweater and jean shorts sits at the breakfast table at Uryu's house, eyes curved into crescents as they cheerily pour milk into an empty bowl until its almost full and then begin shoveling spoonfuls of cereal in bit by bit until the milk hits the brim.
Uryu pushes at his glasses as he stares in shock at the intruder in his own house.
"Who are you!?" He blurts out. "What're you doing here?"
The stranger pauses their messing around with the bowl to wave down at him.
"Oh, it's Ryuken's kid," they say. "Aw, you're so small to be so upset."
He hates condescending adults the most.
"My dad hates it when other people are in his house," Uryu says, confident in this part. "He barely likes having me in the house."
That makes the stranger laugh and reach down to pat Uryu's head.
It feels terrible.
"You're dad's cute when he's upset though," They say, returning to stirring the cereal. "So that's a bonus."
"KAMIYA!"
Uryu had thought his father incapable of using Quincy techniques. But there he stands, silver hair disarrayed as he stands with his sleeping clothes on at the stop of the stairwell, a giant blue and silver bow nocked and pointed down at their guest.
"Get away from my son."
Uryu's jaw drops in awe. His father looks... cool. Alive, the way he used to look before mom had died.
The stranger-- Kamiya-- holds up both hands, not looking at all worried.
"I'm not here for your son, Ryuken," he says, and winks. "I thought I'd comfort a grieving widow--"
Ryuken's hands clamp around Uryu's ears.
"You should go to school," his dad says. "Right now."
He thought that would be the last time he ever saw Kamiya.
Even during middle school, he stayed late for cram school. But, one day he came home early, only to hear a stranger giggle from inside the house. A burglar? In this neighborhood?
He rushed in, hands tingling at his first opportunity to show his father that he's deserving to learn more about the Quincy--
Kamiya was perched on the bannister rail, peels of laughter shaking his body while Ryuken stands next to him with crossed arms, glaring.
"No, no," Kamiya said, voice sweet. "Don't stop there, you have to tell me what happens next! So you said that the ghost had possessed the goldfish in the hospital waiting room? How was that going to help it? Fish can't communicate except with other fish!"
"I told you. It didn't possess the goldfish, it was a ghost. Fish."
He watched the strange man's eyes land on him before his own father noticed he'd come home.
It felt like he's seeing something he shouldn't see.
"And what about your son, Ryuken? Does he have a little pet fish?"
"No. He doesn't need one."
Kamiya reached out and pushed at his father's glasses with a single finger.
"What a shame," he murmured. "Sometimes all one needs from a pet is to watch them swim within the tight confines of their tank, and from time to time beg for a little bit of food."
As a matter of showing his independence, Uryu began preparing his own lunches when he goes to high school, and storing the leftovers for making further use of them as the mood takes him.
At first, he thought his father was the one who was eating them, even though that was ridiculous.
So he hid one night, and waited.
And there, cheerily walking downstairs, previously pony-tailed hair hanging long and free with only a single skull clip to keep it out of their face, was Kamiya, casually wearing a Karakura General Hospital tshirt over pink capris.
Humming to themself, they made a beeline straight for the fridge, cracked it open and reached their hands directly towards the container clearly labeled, Property of Uryu Ishida: Do NOT Touch!!!
Uryu burst out of his spot before he knew what to do with himself.
"Hey! You!"
He tried to grab the container out of Kamiya's hands.
"That's mine!"
Kamiya's grip was unbelievably strong, and he laughed again, another sick little chortle.
"Don't be like that, Uryu-kun," he said, pulling Uryu with him as he began to putter around the kitchen, pulling out a pair of chopsticks from one drawer and going to pull soy sauce from its correct cupboard. "What's a little sharing between friends? I can't help that I've worked up an… Appetite."
Uryu felt a few synapses in his brain fire off and then die.
"I am not your friend!" He snapped. "I don't even know you! And-- and you should stop hanging around my dad! He doesn't like you either!"
"No?" Kamiya said softly.
For a second, a spike of fear traced its way down Uryu's spine, but he thrust it away. This person is some home-invading nobody!
"That's right."
He hadn't really expected Kamiya to stay taller than him even as he put in his high school growth spurt.
"And he's told you everything, has he," Kamiya sighed, looking at him regretfully. "His closest confessor, his only son. Ah, well, if that's what he said--well, then. I'd have to be on my way, and leave him to go back to how he was before. His former wife dying was such a bonding experience for you two, after all."
If Kamiya's aim with a bow was as good as his aim with words, he would have been a Quincy to be reckoned with.
Uryu reddened.
"I just--"
Kamiya slapped a hand over Uryu's mouth as Ryuken's voice called down the stairs.
"Kamiya? Why must you always insist on wandering down there? I know you don't need to eat that stuff."
The smile curled Kamiya's eyes all the way shut.
"I don't know what type of person I would be if I only did the things I needed to do," Kamiya says, and his voice is soft. "Just think! The world is so much brighter when people launch themselves towards the sun."
"A fan of Icarus, Kamiya?"
A giggle.
"A huge fan. He wouldn't even have had to beg and plead with his old father. I'd have come to that very same labyrinth, admired his work, offered to build those wings for his son myself. I'd even volunteer to fish his corpse out of the ocean."
His father sighed, still out of sight.
"Don't eat Uryu's food, Shion," he said. "Please."
"I would never do that."
Uryu opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.
"No. No! You're not-- that's not---"
"Uryu?" Orihime asks, staring at him worriedly. "Are you sick?"
Yes. He's sick. He feels like something is very wrong with him.
"He's-- that is, he's friends with. My father--"
Orihime clearly doesn't get it, because getting it would be insane.
"A work friend? Like he's a shinigami who reaps souls at the hospital?"
Okay, why was that her first thought.
"No! I mean. Yes. Sure. Kind of. He's-- He's just around. Sometimes." he finishes lamely.
"Ohhhh," Orihime breathes, and she pats Uryu on the back sympathetically. "I get it. He's your dad's boyfriend!"
A/N: happy pride
He would not be the type of person humming to himself as he pretends ignorance to the chaos of his own division.
It felt like all the brightness had drained out of the division when Kaien died. And poor Rukia... Miyako had done her best for the girl, but...
In the end, hadn't she abandoned her too? Left her to the confused whispers of her new nobility while Miyako took the promotion and discarded her name. But it had just been--
She had felt like she couldn't comfort anyone, anymore. A widow who'd cut down her own husband… Rukia had looked at her with such guilt. Captain Ukitake as well. She didn't want their pity. It was still easier to speak with Shion, who seemed to have been born without sympathy.
It would've been easier if Kukaku had been mad. Her sister in law... former sister in law. She was always fiery, loud, 'pissed as hell', as she liked to say it. But instead--
"If Isshin wants the clan to die, I guess it'll die," she'd said. "Good fucking riddance. I hate this place."
But Miyako can't let it die. She has to hold on. And, in the end...
"Rukia?" Miyako repeats in disbelief, staring at the report in her hand. "On the execution block!?"
Rangiku crosses her arms across her chest, blowing a strand of bright orange hair out of her face.
"I know," she says. "What's with that? No one's used that thing since I even came to the Seireitei!"
That can't be right. Rukia's a Kuchiki.
"Her brother has had nothing to say about this," Miyako says, still staring at the report as if it will miraculously change.
"He's the one that brought her back in the first place," Rangiku says. "Seriously... makes me glad I never found any blood relations."
"We have to do something about this," Miyako says, rising to her feet.
"Yes, but what can we..."
Rangiku pauses to look up and shield her eyes as the protective shield array that covers the entire city suddenly flares to life, blindingly bright.
"What the hell," Rangiku says. "Is that some type of... spirit bomb?" Even as she says that, the golden sphere that had been hitting the barrier explodes as it breaks through, sending little dark specs dropping out of the sky.
In front of Miyako, a pure black hell butterfly highlighted with tangerine orange spots flutters down.
"Miyako-chan," Shion's voice merrily projects through the animal as if it were nothing more than a human world music speaker. "It seems that we are under attack."
"Hello, Captain Kamiya," Miyako says. "You wouldn't have anything to do with this, right?"
Rangiku stiffens and stares at the butterflies, mouth pursed. She doesn't much like Shion.
Of course, most reasonable people don't like him. It's only been mildly less stressful recently, what with him taking long vacations into the human world and haphazardly leaving Hitsugaya in charge whenever he pleases.
"You think so highly of me! It's quite exciting to see someone successfully break the Soul Society's barrier, isn't it? Makes you think that all of society's barriers might be breaking down soon enough."
That wasn't a 'no, I didn't do it'.
"So, what did you want from me, then?"
"Toshiro-kun tells me that they put young Rukia on the execution block."
Miyako goes cold.
"I know. If you read your own reports, your Lieutenant wouldn't have had to tell you."
It had been absurd when she read the news. But horrible things that her former President tells her do not long rest in the realm of hypotheticals.
"And deny Toshiro-kun the chance to read all of my files?"
Shion's laughter has a hollow edge from the way it projects through the butterfly.
"I'm joking, Lieutenant. Joking! I have a very special task for you as well. But that's for later! Since I can't order other Captains around, let's not call it a task. Let's call it a request. Captain Miyako... it's nothing much, but I think in about two days from now, I'd like you to check in on Captain Shunsui. I think one of the packages I'm expecting was accidentally addressed to his division instead of mine."
That doesn't sound like a Captain level task, that sounds like a Lieutenant chore.
Rangiku makes an insulted sound next to her.
"Do your own dirty work, Shion!" she says.
"Hi, Rangiku! Don't worry. I am."
The butterfly stills for a second as a sound very similar to a disconnection dial permeates the air, and then flutters off.
"You shouldn't do it," Rangiku says immediately. "Though I don't really think anything that dangerous could happen with Captain Shunsui around."
What Rangiku doesn't know is that Shion isn't any good at locating physical packages. Just people. Miyako doesn't have any intention of delivering whomever it is to Shion, of course. But...
Overhead, she watches the sky repair itself, and feels cold.
Shion wouldn't be this excited over a singular execution. Something terrible has happened. Is happening. But if that's the case...
Why does everything seem so... normal?
Shion likes having Toshiro around. It's good having that youthful energy that combines both righteousness, nosiness, and worry for their own dignity.
Unfortunately, he can't be allowed to eavesdrop on this meeting when he's prone to telling Hinamori, Aizen's young lieutenant, everything he worries about or suspects. Not that that will be an issue for much longer!
They clap their hands together twice.
"Okay, Toshiro-kun! You get the rest of the day off! Have fun out there!"
Toshiro glowers at them.
"I'm not a child," he says.
If he's not a child, then he should simply grow up. Age in soul society is a tenuous thing, fueled partially by amount of reiatsu and partially from how old you feel. Having captain level spiritual pressure is enough to keep you aging as slowly as you want, but it's the mentality that keeps one young! Kisuke looks like he's gained ten years over the past century, which is just terrible. Shion's looked exactly the same for over 200 years.
"Yes, yes," Shion says cheerily. "You have to go away so I can play with my toys, Toshiro-kun!"
If Miyako were here, she'd have refused to leave point plank. His mistake for making it too obvious that he's always talking about people when he makes jokes like this.
But Toshiro assumes it's another lab project. Not that he's wrong.
"Don't push more work on me later to make up for this," Toshiro says darkly, and lets himself out of the room.
Half an hour later, Captain Kaname Tousen walks in.
"Kamiya," he says, voice slow and dark. "I gave you an ultimatum. You've sat on it for long enough."
In the century that Shion has had this lab, they've never had a chair for visitors, let alone a cleared desk space. But in just half an hour, the entire room has transformed. Shion sits patiently at his desk, hands laced together over some paperwork. A wicker chair has specifically been brought in and then pulled out on the other side of the table for Tousen to sit down on.
Kaname does not sit down.
"I'm glad you could find your way here," Shion says, beaming. "So, you asked for a way to regain your sight while also maintaining your sanity. Isn't that right."
"...While maintaining my humanity," Tousen corrects Shion. "Though sanity was also implied."
Was it?
"I am going to lay out for you," Shion says, sweeping one arm through the air in a grand gesture, "Some hypothetical futures. How human you remain..." It's not like it's impossible. "That will depend on your choices."
"I am not here for a fortune telling. I am here for--"
"Your sight, yes, yes. It will please you immensely to know that in all hypothetical paths before you, you will be able to see, at some point. We are just discussing where and how." Shion's close-eyed smile deepens the laugh wrinkles that are barely beginning to form in the corners of their eyes.
"Path one. I do like this one, though it's not my top choice. You stick with Captain Aizen. You are eventually through his beneficence granted the ability to become a Vizored-like being. That transformation into an animal themed monster-- undoubtedly a bug themed monster for you, Kaname-- enables you to see, but brings with it the most wondrous parts of Hollowification, namely that negative emotions are brought more easily to the surface and can easily spin out of control. Maybe an anger that you are so skilled at hiding right now bubbles to the surface, and you find yourself throwing yourself into a battle you cannot win, and possibly self-destructing and attempting to kill your dearest friend out of spite."
Shion pauses.
"This transformation only allows you to see while hollowified, and I'm not trying to imply you wouldn't pick a fight as you are now. I know you would."
"You don't know me," Kaname says flatly.
But Shion does know him. Isn't he someone who picks a fight with Kenpachi Zaraki just because he doesn't like him? Is that the work of someone who has a firm control over his temper and his dislike of his fellow shinigami?
Of course, that hasn't happened yet. And it probably never will.
"Path two," Shion continues, "Is very exciting. For me, at least. While Captain Aizen does not consider sanity a particularly wanted attribute in his Hollow-Shinigami fusion attempts, Kisuke-senpai did. In fact, I've been informed that the Vizored themselves are only as stable as they are--"
Well. If you consider stable a relative term. Which Shion definitely does.
"--due to the use of the Hogyoku to stabilize their physical transformation and some special secret concoction of Kisuke's... he absolutely refused to give further details beyond 'containing Quincy arrows and human souls', that acted to stabilize their own souls, preventing insanity. Fascinating, really. I bet that Quincy blood or souls would have worked better, but he didn't have any. Well, that was his problem and not mine."
"But you don't have a Hogyoku," Tousen says.
"It's very tragic, I know," Shion says. "So in this case, you would allow Captain Aizen to hollowify you, then open a pathway through to the human realm, and betray his secrets to Kisuke-senpai, and ask him to do the honors."
Shion waits patiently.
"That will not work," Tousen says.
"And why not, Kaname?"
They are already speaking of traitorous things. Will he tell them even more?
There is a silence. It stretches into a minute, and then five minutes, and then a full hour of nothing at all.
"Soon, both the Hogyoku that Aizen made… And the one Urahara made... will be in Aizen's hands. So there's no chance."
True.
Shion twirls his finger through a strand of his hair. It is kind of tight timing, leaving so much to the last minute, but Kaname wouldn't be so agreeable without time pressure. One must make sacrifices.
"There is, of course, the option where I do the work, and don't leave it to others," they say. Ryuketsu likes when that's the chosen option. "But I have… A couple of questions. Two of them, to be precise. One. I've heard from Shinji that the hollowification actually spread from one to the next of them, resembling something almost like an infectious plague-- despite it not infecting you. Would you say this was the case?"
The words are pulled from Tousen's mouth with the heaviness of his lieutenant's own chains.
"That is the case. Hollowifying a shinigami is ultimately no different from what happens to a normal plus soul, once the Hogyoku removes the barriers within the soul. When negative emotions consume them, they fall faster. The plague was one of fear, despair, and horror. I remained immune through self control."
Shion doesn't bother to disguise his joy.
"And question two. You remember the man you killed… Tokinada Tsunayashiro. The one with the ancestral family blade. The one who killed your only friend."
"I have other friends," Kaname grates out. "But yes, I remember the murderer of my childhood companion."
"Yes, do still play at being friends with Captain Komamura. But returning to my question… You wouldn't still have that sword, would you?"
The one that copies other Shikai?
Seinosuke has been having a very unpleasant day. Strike that out, he's been having two very unpleasant days. It's ridiculous that four not very powerful intruders could still be out there sending annoying low level shinigami to the infirmary. It's ridiculous that no one powerful in Soul Society seems particularly motivated to clean them out. And most of all--
Seinosuke Yamada's younger brother, Hanataro Yamada, is a short and unassuming figure with permanently widened, dead eyes, always stuck in a state of alarm over some mundanity or another. In terms of talent, he's an embarrassment, and in terms of ambition, he doesn't even aspire for Lieutenant.
None of this explains why he has dragged a half dead looking orange haired shinigami into Seinosuke's infirmary room and asked him to heal him.
"What," Seinosuke says, voice dangerously slow and clipped. "Is going on here?"
Hanatarou stutters a bit, eyes shifting wildly back and forth.
"This is-- Ah--"
He gulps.
"This is one of the intruders who lost-- or maybe won? a fight with Lieutenant Renji Abarai. He needs medical help, and, well... You're the best."
"The best option you have, you mean," Seinosuke mutters. This feels even worse than doing things for Kamiya. But family is family.
He crouches down in front of the body, starting a basic reiatsu check. Horrible injuries, but they are already healing at a rapid pace-- whoever this young man is, he's got Lieutenant levels of reiatsu, capable of replenishing expended energy quickly.
"Just slap some bandages on him and he'll be fine," Seinosuke says, giving his expert medical opinion. "No one at his power level will die of only this level of bleeding. I don't see a division number on his uniform, though...?"
"Ah," Hanataro says again.
Seisusuke's eyes narrow.
"H--he's.. He told me he was human," Hanatarou says, which is fundamentally, 100% not true. "And he's here to save Rukia!"
"Who?"
Hanatarou looks like he's about to cry. No, wait, Seinosuke can feel some vague memory returning to him. He's heard this name before.
"Rukia Kuchiki! She's in the 13th Division and she's--"
Okay, he remembers now. Hisana's sister. Hisana had been an awful case. People can't die while under his knife, but he hadn't wanted to be responsible for maintaining her worst, most sick self for infinite years. Not to mention he didn't want to keep his shikai permanently active and in one location. Would the Kuchikis have handcuffed him to her side if he'd told them of the option?
He'd brought Kamiya in just to get some of the pressure off of him, and it had worked, in its own way. Not something he liked remembering.
"I don't care. He'll be fine in a couple hours..."
Even as he says that, the body groans and stirs, eyes blearily fluttering open as he jerks up.
Seinosuke freezes. He hadn't been paying that much attention before, but--
He's been attending Lieutenant meetings with Kaien Shiba for nigh over a century. If he couldn't recognize the Shiba genes, he'd have to call himself blind.
"Who're you!?" The mysterious Shiba snaps, eyes flickering between him and Hanatarou. "And where's Ganju? He alright?"
That would be Ganju Shiba. They'd been forced into exile beyond the Soul Society... well, except for Miyako. Was this some revenge plot? Did Miyako know about it?
…
Did Kamiya know about it.
"I," Seinosuke says imperiously, "Am Lieutenant Seinosuke Yamada of the 4th Division."
"He's my older brother," Hanatarou adds in. "And.. uh.." He gives a furtive look at Seinosuke. "Ganju-san is in the sewers. He didn't want to risk coming all the way up here."
For some reason, this reassures the strange shinigami.
"As long as everyone's alright..." He mutters, hand drifting down to clutch at his own injuries. As he moves around, something oddly white falls from his robes, clattering across the hospital floors.
A white hollow mask with several red stripes.
Seinosuke hisses, hand falling to his zanpakuto.
Hanatarou steps in front of the man, weak arms out.
"No!" His voice squeaks up and breaks. "Whatever you're thinking, he's not dangerous. Well, he is dangerous, but--"
The young man grunts a little.
"I can speak for myself, you know." His dark eyes are clear of fear as he stares up at Seinosuke, proving his poor judgment. "My name is Ichigo Kurosaki. Rukia made me into a substitute shinigami, which saved my life, and now I'm going to save hers."
His unsheathed shikai radiates the power of a strong lieutenant. There are stronger, of course-- should he meet the lieutenants of the 1st, 11th, or 12th, he'd have to curse his foul luck. But that is nothing to be ashamed of, when he seems so very young.
Perhaps he will even succeed in only meeting captains who won't kill an upstart. But not if he acts to defy the rules of Soul Society... So he will soon be dead and gone.
...
And once again leave Miyako without a Shiba heir.
"Hanatarou," Seinosuke says, voice cold. "Cover your ears or be prepared to bear the weight of knowledge."
He picks up the Hollow mask from where it had fallen on the ground.
"Ichigo. Have you ever met a shinigami around my age. Pink-orange hair, dark eyes. They'd have been wearing a pink skull and crossbones clip in their hair."
No recognition in his eyes.
"Huh..? I haven't seen anyone like that. Why are you going off topic?"
So someone that wasn't Kamiya did this to him? Had he had a run in with one of the exiled Vizored? ... The exiled Urahara Kisuke? Seinosuke has been forced to do a lot of research in order to figure out what on earth Kamiya was up to with his Quincy hollowification incident. This can't be unrelated to what he'd found in Unohana's own medical records on the incident.
He tosses the mask up and down in his hand.
"It protected him," Hanatarou cuts in softly. "Brother..."
"You are not the first shinigami to have a hollow mask," Seinosuke says to him, stopping Hanatarou dead in his tracks. "Though you seem the most... sane. And not infectious, otherwise I'd have to kill you to avenge my brother, which seems like a miserable time. If you rely on it, it will consume you. If you cut yourself off from it, you will be dead before you see the execution platform. A conundrum."
Ichigo stiffens.
"I won't lose control!" He snaps. "I'll work on it. I'll get stronger!"
"You will never be individually strong enough to defeat yourself," Seinosuke observes, almost amused. "Though I suppose that is the point of a bankai trial."
Ugh. What if he really does die before Seinosuke can notify Miyako... He can't let Kamiya make her life worse so easily.
"Rest here, and continue on when you are healed," Seinosuke says, finally. "It's not as if Soul Society will unravel tomorrow morning. Unless you have some other pressing issue...?"
Ichigo shakes his head.
"I got separated from my friends," he says. "But I have faith in them. I think they'll be just fine."
Is that so? Then that's enough time to start running some blood tests.
Uryu Ishida prided himself on being prepared for any situation, every eventuality. Not like his father, who seemed to have moved on far too quickly from his mother's death. Uryu had come here prepared to fight Soul Society's best and come out on top, as a Quincy should. Stealing shinigami robes for him and Orihime to use to blend in was a natural scenario, and it had worked like a charm, until it hadn't.
And now the shinigami that had been chasing them had abruptly halted.
"You don't want to be over there."
"Well, we certainly don't want to be with you!" Orihime calls back, arms crossed.
"No, I mean--"
Even as the shinigami continues to speak, a trace of sweat visible on his neck, a dark, smoky barrier slowly shimmers into existence between them and him, and the slight fear on his face turns into a combination of pity and terror.
"--I haven't seen that barrier in almost 90 years," the man whispers. And then he bolts away.
Uryu stares at the barrier. It doesn't look any more dangerous than anything Orihime can generate. And it's just kept other shinigami away from them.
"...Let's keep going," Uryu says.
A few blocks later, Orihime starts a little as a small cut opens up on her palm.
"Huh!?" She looks around wildly. "Is somebody there?"
Uryu keeps his bow out too, but sees nothing.
Orihima laughs nervously.
"Maybe I just cut myself on something earlier and didn't notice," She says.
"You're not that much of a clutz," Uryu mutters, but relaxes a little. It's possible. "Let's just try and move out of this area. Even if it's deserted, it's a little..."
A block down, the next cut slices through his upper arm. As he stumbles, hissing from the pain, Orihime rushes over to help him out.
"Here, I can heal that," She offers, biting her lip. Then she blinks, staring at something behind him.
"Hey, Uryu..."
There's more confusion than fear in her voice, but it turns his stomach.
"Isn't that barrier, like, closer? Than before?"
The smoky barrier from earlier still hangs in the sky. As Uryu turns to look at it... It's two blocks behind them. They've traveled further than that. He's sure of it.
And, looking around, he can see faint traces of smoke in the air far, far in front of them, and also on either side, just far enough to be dismissed as nothing but heat waves in the morning air.
But heat waves don't form a cube in the air.
"Orihime," Uryu starts, hands clenching. "Stay calm. This is--"
An odd crackle as if from an old loudspeaker shivers across the area.
"Hello, you two!"
It's a distorted voice, but the tone is... Oddly familiar. No. It can't be.
"Us?" Orihime repeats, staring around. "Uryu," She says in a loudly pitched whisper. "I think I'm beginning to hallucinate!"
"Be quiet," Uryu mutters. "Keep your voice down."
"Yes, you! Hello Orihime-chan! And hello Uryu-kun~ It's so wonderful that you guys could make it."
Eyes darting around for where the sound could be coming from, but the only thing beside the long, white buildings that surround them are the delicate black butterflies that drift through the air from time to time.
"How do you know our names, shinigami," Uryu snaps.
Again, that tone.
"You say that like it's an in-sult~" There's an odd mechanized glitch in the middle of the word that shivers around them. "Have shinigami ever done something to you, Uryu-kun?"
"The shinigami are responsible for the eradication of the Quincies!"
Orihime gasps.
"Oh, tha-at." Again with the glitch. "But that was such a long time ago...and your hatred is so visceral. So pointed. What about your family, Uryu-kun? Have they been era-dic-ated?"
"Is that a threat!?" Uryu snaps. "Don't touch my family. That's got nothing to do with this!"
He only has his dad left, after his grandfather died of a heart attack and his mother got deathly ill soon after.
He won't let this shinigami target his father, even if the guy is useless and insufferable and moved on from his mother far to quickly--
"It's just a bit of harmless curiosity, Uryu-kun,"
No.
"And what about you, Orihime-chan? I don't mean to leave you alone."
"It's okay!" Orihime says. "But, uh, Shinigami-san..."
"Yes?"
"It feels like the box around us is still getting... smaller."
A giggle. And now he can't delude himself any longer. It's not just familiar. He knows who it is.
An orange haired person in a pink and silver striped sweater and jean shorts sits at the breakfast table at Uryu's house, eyes curved into crescents as they cheerily pour milk into an empty bowl until its almost full and then begin shoveling spoonfuls of cereal in bit by bit until the milk hits the brim.
Uryu pushes at his glasses as he stares in shock at the intruder in his own house.
"Who are you!?" He blurts out. "What're you doing here?"
The stranger pauses their messing around with the bowl to wave down at him.
"Oh, it's Ryuken's kid," they say. "Aw, you're so small to be so upset."
He hates condescending adults the most.
"My dad hates it when other people are in his house," Uryu says, confident in this part. "He barely likes having me in the house."
That makes the stranger laugh and reach down to pat Uryu's head.
It feels terrible.
"You're dad's cute when he's upset though," They say, returning to stirring the cereal. "So that's a bonus."
"KAMIYA!"
Uryu had thought his father incapable of using Quincy techniques. But there he stands, silver hair disarrayed as he stands with his sleeping clothes on at the stop of the stairwell, a giant blue and silver bow nocked and pointed down at their guest.
"Get away from my son."
Uryu's jaw drops in awe. His father looks... cool. Alive, the way he used to look before mom had died.
The stranger-- Kamiya-- holds up both hands, not looking at all worried.
"I'm not here for your son, Ryuken," he says, and winks. "I thought I'd comfort a grieving widow--"
Ryuken's hands clamp around Uryu's ears.
"You should go to school," his dad says. "Right now."
He thought that would be the last time he ever saw Kamiya.
Even during middle school, he stayed late for cram school. But, one day he came home early, only to hear a stranger giggle from inside the house. A burglar? In this neighborhood?
He rushed in, hands tingling at his first opportunity to show his father that he's deserving to learn more about the Quincy--
Kamiya was perched on the bannister rail, peels of laughter shaking his body while Ryuken stands next to him with crossed arms, glaring.
"No, no," Kamiya said, voice sweet. "Don't stop there, you have to tell me what happens next! So you said that the ghost had possessed the goldfish in the hospital waiting room? How was that going to help it? Fish can't communicate except with other fish!"
"I told you. It didn't possess the goldfish, it was a ghost. Fish."
He watched the strange man's eyes land on him before his own father noticed he'd come home.
It felt like he's seeing something he shouldn't see.
"And what about your son, Ryuken? Does he have a little pet fish?"
"No. He doesn't need one."
Kamiya reached out and pushed at his father's glasses with a single finger.
"What a shame," he murmured. "Sometimes all one needs from a pet is to watch them swim within the tight confines of their tank, and from time to time beg for a little bit of food."
As a matter of showing his independence, Uryu began preparing his own lunches when he goes to high school, and storing the leftovers for making further use of them as the mood takes him.
At first, he thought his father was the one who was eating them, even though that was ridiculous.
So he hid one night, and waited.
And there, cheerily walking downstairs, previously pony-tailed hair hanging long and free with only a single skull clip to keep it out of their face, was Kamiya, casually wearing a Karakura General Hospital tshirt over pink capris.
Humming to themself, they made a beeline straight for the fridge, cracked it open and reached their hands directly towards the container clearly labeled, Property of Uryu Ishida: Do NOT Touch!!!
Uryu burst out of his spot before he knew what to do with himself.
"Hey! You!"
He tried to grab the container out of Kamiya's hands.
"That's mine!"
Kamiya's grip was unbelievably strong, and he laughed again, another sick little chortle.
"Don't be like that, Uryu-kun," he said, pulling Uryu with him as he began to putter around the kitchen, pulling out a pair of chopsticks from one drawer and going to pull soy sauce from its correct cupboard. "What's a little sharing between friends? I can't help that I've worked up an… Appetite."
Uryu felt a few synapses in his brain fire off and then die.
"I am not your friend!" He snapped. "I don't even know you! And-- and you should stop hanging around my dad! He doesn't like you either!"
"No?" Kamiya said softly.
For a second, a spike of fear traced its way down Uryu's spine, but he thrust it away. This person is some home-invading nobody!
"That's right."
He hadn't really expected Kamiya to stay taller than him even as he put in his high school growth spurt.
"And he's told you everything, has he," Kamiya sighed, looking at him regretfully. "His closest confessor, his only son. Ah, well, if that's what he said--well, then. I'd have to be on my way, and leave him to go back to how he was before. His former wife dying was such a bonding experience for you two, after all."
If Kamiya's aim with a bow was as good as his aim with words, he would have been a Quincy to be reckoned with.
Uryu reddened.
"I just--"
Kamiya slapped a hand over Uryu's mouth as Ryuken's voice called down the stairs.
"Kamiya? Why must you always insist on wandering down there? I know you don't need to eat that stuff."
The smile curled Kamiya's eyes all the way shut.
"I don't know what type of person I would be if I only did the things I needed to do," Kamiya says, and his voice is soft. "Just think! The world is so much brighter when people launch themselves towards the sun."
"A fan of Icarus, Kamiya?"
A giggle.
"A huge fan. He wouldn't even have had to beg and plead with his old father. I'd have come to that very same labyrinth, admired his work, offered to build those wings for his son myself. I'd even volunteer to fish his corpse out of the ocean."
His father sighed, still out of sight.
"Don't eat Uryu's food, Shion," he said. "Please."
"I would never do that."
Uryu opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.
"No. No! You're not-- that's not---"
"Uryu?" Orihime asks, staring at him worriedly. "Are you sick?"
Yes. He's sick. He feels like something is very wrong with him.
"He's-- that is, he's friends with. My father--"
Orihime clearly doesn't get it, because getting it would be insane.
"A work friend? Like he's a shinigami who reaps souls at the hospital?"
Okay, why was that her first thought.
"No! I mean. Yes. Sure. Kind of. He's-- He's just around. Sometimes." he finishes lamely.
"Ohhhh," Orihime breathes, and she pats Uryu on the back sympathetically. "I get it. He's your dad's boyfriend!"
A/N: happy pride
- Location
- Where Jokes Die
Damn, going for that rebound, huh? For shame, Ryuken, for shame. Imagine how Kamiya must feel.
My man slept with Uryu's dad and then proceeded to bully him. Shion can literally pull the "I slept with your mom last night" card anytime he wants to. I feel a little bad for Uryu but goddamn is Shion a savage.
I should mention that this ending scene wasn't like.. some last minute addition. I had this idea as I was developing the entire story and was singularly like oh we need this scene. It's going to happen. Started writing chapter 1 like one day they will all see (Shion having a little fun).
Rem
fite me
Even Aizen isn't that dastardly!
WE DON'T KNOW AND WE SHOULD NOT KNOW.
It will be much better for our heath that way.