Chapter 9: Chapter 7: Armoury Arc: Moon Ripples On Ink
Summary:
Oh, Nariko. Maybe if you didn't have Shinji's shady face these things wouldn't happen to you. Or maybe if you had his charisma. Ah, well. You two'll grow into those Hirako features of yours.
Notes:
Theme song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HMii9q4qz0E ("Finest Hour" by Extreme Music)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
My opponent came at me with the speed and force of a train. I stumbled back, escaping his punch by an inch. A twist into a horse stance brought my shoulder to a right angle with his body—I briefly thought of slamming him with my shoulder but swung my forearm into his instead. Fuck, he's more solid than he looks-! I threw that out of my mind and twisted my arm into a reverse hammer punch at his groin-
Thump. I blinked up at a white-painted ceiling, trying to figure out where I'd gone wrong as I gasped for air that wouldn't come. Himura's smirking face interrupted my view. I wrinkled my nose at him. Teachers weren't supposed to be smug. Still, I took the hand he offered and yanked myself up.
To Himura's credit, he let me walk around, hands on my head, to get my breath back instead of getting right back to training. I'd expected him to be relentless and student-crushing, but Himura hadn't gotten where he was by being stupid. People couldn't hone themselves after being broken, he said, and continuing training when hurt constituted broken in his book.
"Forget you had legs, Hirako? Always the legs-or-arms dilemma with you." He snorted, loudly enough that I expected smoke to puff from his nostrils. "You have a whole body, not a half one. Same for me." His smirk widened into a grin that I had to admit he'd earned the right to wear. I should've expected his spoon sweep. That I hadn't... it didn't make me feel too great inside. I prided myself on being honest as much as I did on being observant. And if I was honest, I wasn't as observant as I thought I was.
I nodded, dismissing my doubts and still trying to suck in some air. "She better be coming soon," I half-gasped, half-said, referring to the student he'd dragged into teaching me.
Himura huffed. "Can't take it?"
Uh, no, I can't take a guy who could wipe the floor with a seventh-year, I thought, but shrugged at him. Actively disagreeing with teachers rubbed me the wrong way, but sometimes it was just as dangerous to agree with them. Dangerous in this case meaning that Himura would make me do exercises until I was too weak to lift my brush.
We waited about five minutes for me to get my breath back. Memories of winding other people trickled back as I paced around the training hall. I almost cringed, but it was more a reflexive embarrassment for an idiotic past self than anything else. Looking back felt more like I'd read about someone else than having actually lived that life. I didn't have to remind myself as I once had that I wasn't that person anymore. I had enough control not to knock the air out of someone unless I chose to, at least. Hey, thinking about that, Himura had to have winded me deliberately. Jerk.
"I'm here, sensei!" A girl sailed in, and all my thoughts flew out of my head, because she was gorgeous. No ifs, ands, or buts, and I could say that having seen some top-notch fanart of Yoruichi and Unohana. I sucked in a breath. Speaking of memories... brilliant crimson hair, roughly an inch shorter than me, with laugh-crinkled brown eyes and a borderline-childishly round face. Himura couldn't have picked someone worse suited to me if he'd tried. And by 'worse suited' I meant 'best suited to my tastes and probably horribly distracting.'
Well, I hadn't decided to embrace training with Himura because of pretty girls. I was going to focus on learning, dammit.
Wait. Himura'd said something to me. An introduction. I offered him my best 'sorry for being an idiot' smile. "Um, what?"
Himura pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, she's always like this," he told the redhead, then turned back to me. "Hirako Nariko, meet Choujuno Akane, the one Kidou Corps brat who can give an onmitsu a run for their money in Hakuda. Apparently she didn't get herself disappeared."
Wait, what? I filed that away before Akane could make me forget that too, just in time for her to turn a wide grin on me. "Only because they're lazy," she assured me with a toss of the head. I fought back the urge to tuck the strands of red that drifted loose from her bun, pinned in place with two silver and blue kanzashi. Not a popular day-to-day choice around here, but she was a Kidou Corps hopeful. They weren't always the most realistic people, as her word choice indicated. Onmitsu didn't do lazy. Careless, stupid, arrogant, messy, maybe, but only in their private lives. Sui-Feng and Yoruichi hadn't gotten where they were by slacking off.
I skimmed my reiatsu over hers as she bounced off to remove her waraji and kanzashi. What I found made my eyebrows fly up. Besides Akane's own reiatsu, smooth, bright, and colorful like stained glass, something she was carrying rang with the pattern of Kidou. It was barely distinguishable from her own power—definitely self-made and not too powerful, but still. Really, really cool.
Himura folded his arms. "First thoughts?" He asked. A test. Eww. But it was a chance to feel a little better about my observational skills.
I took a deep breath, slotting things I'd noticed and background knowledge into place. A specialist in Kidou, with her clan beneath the Wakahisa and only slightly less powerful than them, so... "An endurance fighter. Graceful, good footwork if I know their style, but... you wouldn't have chosen her if she was conventional. She knows grappling too, I bet. Choujuno-san seems very... aware." That was obvious from her kanzashi alone: kogai kanzashi with hydrangea-patterned sheaths and streamers of willow leaves trailing from the ends. They were the sort of ornaments that only someone well-versed in seasonal fashion would wear.
Clattering metal interrupted my thoughts. Himura and I glanced over to find a small pile of knives as the noise's source, Akane standing above them with her sleeves rolled up.
"I thought they were better-secured!" She called over without a hint of shame before going back to what was apparently an extended disarming, untying the cords that had secured the knives.
"You said she wanted to go into the Kidou Corps," I accused, lowering my voice.
Himura didn't lower his, barking a laugh. "And now you know what they use instead of Zanpakutou. Good job she doesn't have a sword yet."
I frowned. "But you just said they don't have Zanpakutou."
"I'd tell you to go look it up if rumor didn't have it that you were banned from the libraries." A slight frown crossed Himura's face at that. "The onmitsu don't like Zanpakutou because it interferes with reiatsu-cloaking and the Kidou Corps don't like 'em because it messes with the kind of Kidou they can do. Hence knives like those." He nodded over at Akane's miniature armory, more knives being added to it as we spoke. "Forged so you can channel Kidou and strengthen 'em with your reiatsu. Pretty useful, except they like to explode when Zanpakutou users try them."
Well. There went the plan of 'weaponize all my kanzashi.'
"Anything to add now that you know how much metal she carts around?" Himura asked, eyes bright.
"She's either paranoid or she really likes to show off," I said. "Sorry, I forgot you called that being ready."
Himura scowled. "I can send her away if you want to keep being a smart-ass."
"No!" I burst out more quickly than I'd intended. "I'm good. Really, sensei, I am."
Was his resting face a smirk? I had to think so as it shifted from annoyance to smugness again. "Then wrap up all your little points and tell me what she's gonna do and what you're gonna do about it. Better do it quick; she's almost done."
I resisted the temptation to stick my tongue out. I did need to be more concise. "She'll make it hard for me to land a clean hit." That was more of a Kidou Corps trait than anything, though. If they got hit mid-chant, or just got hit at all, they tended to be well and truly fucked. "And probably try to get me on the ground or get in close. So I have to stay light on my feet. Don't know what I can do about her forcing me to the ground, except fight dirty." And by fight dirty, I meant headbutt her, bite her, or even take a crotch-shot. Maybe she didn't have dangly bits, but that meant precisely jack if I wanted her off me bad enough. Not that having her on me would be too objectionable... I shook that thought away.
Akane bounced over, hair now corralled into a bun by a ribbon. "There we go!" She chirped. "So, wanna get this started? I'll only use kicks if you want me to. Handicap and all that."
My liking of her soured slightly at that. Maybe Himura hadn't told her about me. I was Hirako Nariko. Nobody went easy on me. "I'm fine," I said, voice deliberately cool. Damn, it was hard to be mad at her. "What style do you practice again?" I didn't really want to leap into things if I had some more background knowledge to use.
Akane smiled brightly. "Spring Butterfly!"
Wait, what? I didn't- Hands up, she's got hers up!
I sprang back as she snapped a kick into where my stomach would've been, arms swinging down in a motion I'd never seen before. Like a butterfly, I thought with faint admiration, shuffling back to avoid her effortless waxing crescent kick as Akane switched legs. Two could play at that game. I stepped in and pivoted to snap my own waxing crescent at her back. Akane's hand closed around my ankle for a second before she twirled away, all-too-adorable grin on her face.
She probably expected me to hesitate, to wait for her to make the first real move so we could have a staredown. Too bad. I spun on my front foot, sparing a look over my shoulder to make sure Akane hadn't skipped back, and thrust my other heel back, snapping it into her side. Or at least I intended to—she slid in, grabbed my leg with one hand, and shoved me hard with the other.
Bam. On my back again. I rolled out of the way as Akane dropped into a crouch where I'd been. Not today! I crowed mentally, scrambling to my feet. I didn't know what kind of hold she would've put me in. I didn't want to find out. My muscles already ached from the rapid-fire exchange. Akane, on the other hand, looked as fresh as she had when we'd begun. Not even a hair out of place.
I'm going to change that. I lunged in—one step, two!—and threw a punch at her face. Predictably, Miss Sticky-Hands caught it—but not my knee to her groin. She yelped, half-doubling over before recovering herself and snapping a chicken wrist into my chin. Stars flashed in my vision as I snapped my head back. I leaped back, blinking them away. I had a second of downtime before Akane lunged in, face flushed and twisted with anger.
I'd remembered her weakness: pride. Her moves were showy to the point of telegraphing. Not an obstacle for a fighter with enough reiryoku—couldn't hit someone using Houhou to go faster than you could see. Which was unfortunately the case with Akane. Instead of slowing down, she'd sped up. My body burned hotter with every hand strike and kick I knocked away. Too fast. Too damn fast.
I set my jaw as she stepped just out of range of my forearm smash. Toying with me! I shouted in my head. Going easy! No one does that to me!
Except she could. My arms and legs felt like lead pipes. Every breath caught in my throat. I could see the satisfaction written on Akane's face as she paused, smile still in place. I'd been wrong. All she had to do was tire me out. But she'd been moving around as much as me. Why wasn't she tired? Endurance fighter didn't cover it.
Whatever. No one beat me this easily. I'm going to beat Aizen. You aren't him! I scrabbled for my reiryoku, ready to shunt some to my legs, and yanked.
Funny, how two steps became one long, smooth leap. How my ridge hand to her temple practically blurred, heedless of my fatigue. How Akane's smile vanished for an instant before her hands snatched my collar, foot planting itself on my stomach, and rolled backwards.
Oh. Ow. Owwww. All at once I was staring up at a round, smiling face. Her red hair, falling into my face, smelled faintly of jasmine, I noted distantly.
"Still got what I wanted," I managed after a second. "Your hair's out of place."
Her eyes going wide, Akane laughed, standing and offering me a hand up. I took it, conscious of how warm and small it was, and heaved myself to my feet. She opened her mouth to say something-
"Houhou," Himura interrupted. "You've got that, but not lasting through a fight?"
My eyes slid over to him. "Shifting Moon isn't great at endurance," I mumbled before my ears caught up. "Wait, what? Houhou?"
Himura gave me a long look, then started chuckling, shaking his head. "Figures. You got that by accident. Usually it's the other way around, but... huh. Guess we'll work on endurance first."
Akane's smile widened. I caught the flicker of her reiatsu, dimmer since the fight had begun. "I forgot first-years learn how to move their reiryoku before they learn how to use it for anything practical. I learned how to use it for stamina the hard way." She grimaced, rubbing scarred knuckles. "Piece of advice: don't annoy your teachers so much that they make you clean the Kidou ranges while they're being used."
I giggled, wiping sweat off of the back of my neck. "Advice taken. So I used Houhou accidentally?" Makes sense that Aizen would know how, then. Only he'd figure out something after doing it by accident.
Himura nodded. "Better be glad Choujuno knows a bit of it."
She made a face. "Alright, I kinda started using it after you took that crotch shot. Not fair," she complained.
I made a face back. "Neither was attacking me before I was ready."
Akane frowned. "In real life no one's going to warn you before attacking!" She pointed out, folding her arms.
I mirrored her, ignoring the way the fabric clung to my skin. "In real life people are going to fight dirty," I replied.
Himura stepped in. "Girls," he warned.
Mindful of that tone, we froze.
He let us stew for a second before laughing, low and harsh. "You're both right. Choujuno, that sacrifice throw was stupid, effective or not. A Hollow'd see a downed Shinigami and snap you up in a heartbeat. And you still need to work on telegraphing. Hirako, your stamina is pathetic, but the feinting worked well. If Choujuno hadn't started on the Houhou, you might've won. Might've," he stressed. "There's never certainty in a fight. Alright, Choujuno, you and I are going to demonstrate a basic throw for Hirako..."
"Hey! Do you guys want to start a study group?"
The speaker was Nanase, at his bubbly best. Unfortunately, he endeared himself to exactly no one by asking at breakfast. Shinju and I managed something unintelligible, while whatever Minoru would've said was cut off by a yawn. Aizen didn't even respond. Apart from his inhaling of food, it was hard to tell if he was awake at all.
My dear brother, on the other hand, perked up. "Study group? I could use that!" He said.
I dredged my brain out of the sludge of sleepiness. "Only so you wouldn't have to do your own work," I mumbled.
His reaction was a predictable, age-old gesture. I swallowed my mouthful of rice and stuck out my tongue. Jerk.
"But seriously!" Nanase continued. "I, uh, got held back in a couple classes. And I can still help you with the ones you've got."
He did have a point there. "Aizen-san and I already study Zanpakutou together," I said. "Fujikage-san and I study in our room, too. It'd be handy to have everyone in one place."
Shinji snorted. "Shoulda known you'd be in it to keep everythin' nice an' efficient."
Shinju's and my feet lashed out in unison.
"If everyone isn't too busy, I'd like that," Shinju said over Shinji's whimpering. "It's easier for me to write an essay when I can get other people's opinions on it."
"That sounds okay. If you all really want to do it," Minoru said around a yawn wide enough for me to count every tooth.
Nanase's smile could've lit up all Seireitei. "Perfect! Where do you want to meet?"
After a couple minutes of debate, we settled on the Mizuchi courtyard. It was decently close to all of our dorms and had level steps to work on, with plenty of shade. I wasn't too fond of the place, given my association of it with the Nimaya-Oshiro debacle, but it fit what we needed.
"I've got training with Himura-sensei after dinner, though," I said at some point, rewarded by the stares of my classmates.
"Still? I thought your punishment was up," Shinju said.
Minoru frowned. "And I thought ya said ya had it right after classes let out."
I shook my head. To Shinju, I said, "He decided to extend it. Apparently my grappling and such need work." To Minoru I said, "That was a one-time thing. It fit better with the third-year who's helping us out's schedule to do it after dinner."
Shinji's grin was uncomfortably sharp. "Ooh, is it a musclebound cap'n-to-be?"
I flushed. "I don't like what you're implying," I told him. "It's a girl, anyway. Choujuno Akane."
Shinju frowned. "Choujuno... I thought that family usually went into the Kidou Corps."
Nanase shrugged. "Heck if I know!" He said with a smile that no one should've been capable of wearing before noon. "I think I know who you mean, though. She's got this red hair done up in fancy styles, carries lots of knives?"
I nodded. "That's her. Loves to remind me that I'm not, in fact, perfect." I made a face.
"I'd be happy to take up that duty," Shinji said, grin sly. "I remember how, let's say, Mom had to remind ya for years to brush yer hair. Or how ya got bitten by a dog and didn't think ta mention it ta anybody until they saw that yer sleeve was all bloody. Or-"
"It wasn't that bad a bite!" I protested. "But no thanks. I'm fine not knowing the many ways I screw up every day."
"There's the bitch that tattled on you." I very deliberately didn't turn. That voice again, the raspy one from my fight with Seinosuke. A brief expansion of my reiatsu caught the edge of the reiatsu of Seinosuke himself as he skulked past. But no one was with him. From the looks I saw sent his way, no one wanted to be. Out of the corner of my eye, Nanase tensed.
"So," I said a little too loudly, "anybody got a test today? I've got one in Government."
That elicited a chorus of responses, switching the topic to one that provided a nice distraction from weird voices.
"So we'll meet right before dinner?" Nanase said. Man, he really wanted to hang out with us. But I nodded with everyone else. Studying was useful and the group would give me a chance to view how Aizen interacted with his peers. I could foist Nanase on someone else if I had to as well. Shinju would be happy to have me being social—I knew she worried about how much time I spent in the library or our room—and Shinji would get to hang out with Shinju.
Ew. My little brother crushing on my roommate. Not thinking about that.
Anyway. Minoru would get some much-needed practice with his kana. Maybe even start on his kanji.
All the objectives are coming along nicely, a voice in the back of my mind mused.
Bad self, I scolded. People aren't objectives.
To my surprise, the voice responded. They are if they're involved in a plan, it argued.
I shut that away for now as the gong rang to send us off to class. I needed to catch up to Seinosuke and talk to him like I'd said I would. It'd only been a couple days, but I doubted Ounabara wanted to wait much longer.
I threaded my way through the crowd, following the now-familiar antiseptic sense of his reiatsu. Close, closer, closest...
"Yamada-senpai." I made my voice steady and calm as the stone beneath our waraji. "Can we talk?"
He whirled at his name, face going dangerously dark at seeing my face. "What the hell do you want, horse-teeth?" Seinosuke snarled. "You took Nanase, you got me in trouble again—is there anything you don't want to steal?"
Interesting. So he had cared about Nanase. "To talk. Like I said." Okay, that had come out whiny. Oh well. "In private. It has to do with your punishment."
Wrong thing to say. "Rubbing it in?" Seinosuke said, blue eyes narrow. "Really, you had to stoop that low?"
Idiot. Idiotidiotidiot. Why was he so stupid? "Shut up," I said, low and hard. If being blunt got through to him, I'd be blunt. "You're going to come with me, and I'm going to try and not get your Zanpakutou broken, genius." A step, an iron grip-and-twist of his forearm that Akane had taught me, and I was dragging Seinosuke away.
I came to a halt in a vacant training field, releasing him. I started talking as he rubbed his arm, before he could remember to be mad again.
"Look, they want to break your Zanpakutou. You're a jerk, but you don't deserve to get cut off from Byakuren-" I stopped. Where had that come from? It fit, settled nicely in the air, but... Not important. What was important was that Seinosuke had stopped too and was now staring at me like I'd announced I was Yamamoto in disguise.
"How- how do you know my Zanpakutou's name? Nanase? No, I didn't tell him- How?!" Seinosuke burst out, fists clenched at his sides.
Now was a really bad time to remember that Zanpakutou were considered somewhat private, wasn't it?
The memory of his Zanpakutou's sword guard, shaped like a lotus blossom, descended on me like a gift from heaven. I folded my arms, scoffed like I knew what I was doing. "Seriously? With your Zanpakutou's guard? Poets use it all the time to symbolize purity." I smirked, praying it didn't shake. "But you knew that, didn't you? You're not that stupid."
Seinosuke's neck was redder than Akane's hair, but to his credit he just swallowed hard and glared at me. Hit the mark, I thought triumphantly.
"You said you wanted to talk about me getting punished," Seinosuke bit out. "So talk."
"I told Ounabara that if I talked to you and saw that you were remorseful, I'd tell him about it and he wouldn't break your Zanpakutou," I said. "By that I mean I have to tell him everything you said and did and everything I said and did. If he thinks you're sorry, then he won't do it. So make me think you're sorry."
Seinosuke's eyes narrowed. "How do I know you aren't lying?"
"Because I have no reason to lie? I'm not a sadist," I said, narrowing my eyes back. Two could play the 'suspicious for no reason' game. "And contrary to popular opinion, I'm not a liar either."
He huffed. "Everyone knows you Hirako lie as easy as you breathe."
"Well, everyone's wrong," I said, relishing the chance to not sugarcoat or defer to anyone. It was like a kata: I only had to worry about myself and what I wanted. We weren't friends. He wasn't my teacher. No misdirection, no half-truths. Just us. "And it's not wrong of me to ask for an apology. You attacked a first-year girl because your d- your pride couldn't handle it!" I bit off the curse I'd meant to use. Seinosuke wouldn't be what tripped up my tongue. "And no, you couldn't be bothered to do it by yourself. You needed help."
Seinosuke glowered. "You wonder why people don't like you? Oh, don't act like you're the social butterfly your kid brother is." He sneered. "Nobody was walking with you to class; the only people who sit with you are the ones who're obligated to and a couple of brats who'll run with anyone; you don't know anybody who'd tell you about the way you're supposed to act here." Seinosuke snorted, arms folded snake-coil tight. "Maybe you aren't like a real Hirako, but what you are is worse. You're a self-righteous know-it-all bitch who punches first and thinks of the consequences later. Should've been born a Kuchiki or a Waka-"
I cut him off with a slash of the hand, familiar slow burn building in my chest. "Don't blame me for your choices!" I all-but-shouted at him before he could finish that hated name. "Don't blame me for your social status being so pre-precarious that people will look down on you for losing one fight! You chose to ambush me. You refused to let it go. Maybe I'm part of the problem. Maybe I get why you did it. But I didn't make you do anything!" My breathing came hot and harsh, forcing its way out of a tight throat. "And I can't make you take the offer. Last. Chance." Reiatsu fizzed on my skin, faint but present. The deep breath I gulped did nothing to abate the lightning-hot anger in me.
Seinosuke's stance shook—no, shook implied something solid enough to be shaken in the first place. He swayed like a tree in a storm, ready to react if I attacked.
If I attacked. The thought did interrupt my fury then. He thought I'd hurt him. That I was that much of a loose cannon. Our encounters had been violent, true. But he'd been the aggressor!
Aggressor, yes, but I was born and bred and trained to never carry out attacks by half. And not so oblivious that I didn't know that people drew conclusions from how you acted and looked and talked, not out of thin air. Seinosuke really thought I was some kind of vicious zealot and I hadn't discouraged that perception.
Breathe, whispered tempered rage in my soul. I breathed. You're not in the right. But he is even less so. Understanding is not justification. Breathe, and wait.
I breathed, and waited for his reply.
What I got was a storm of hallucinations instead.
"You're going to just let her cut your branches like that?!" A pause. "I don't care that you don't have those! She's ripping up our roots one by one, that crazy bitch! Who does she think she is?" Another pause, long enough to fit a sentence. Then, more grudgingly, "Maybe growing around it is better. But we've got thorns. Let her see them!"
I blinked rapidly, wrapping my hands in my sleeves so I didn't cover my ears. Don't look like a crazy freak, don't look like a crazy freak...
"Fine." Seinosuke's eyes were anywhere but me. He took a deep breath, still radiating poison and brambles, but the sensation was muted, like he'd tried to prune the briars. "I'm- sorry. For attacking you. And insulting you. You're still a self-righteous know-it-all, but there's no sense in fighting anymore. My rep's not coming back soon enough for you to make amends. I'll stop messing with you and you stop messing with me. That acceptable?"
The quickness of my nod might've surprised him, but it wasn't a hard decision. Byakuren spared, Seinosuke one less thing to worry about, and Ounabara satisfied. Three birds with one stone, just how I liked it. "Yeah. Except for one thing: you don't mess with Nanase either. I'm not letting him get wrapped up in your crap again."
Seinosuke snorted. "Like you care."
"I don't." As soon as the words sprang from my mouth, the thought asshole sprang into my mind. Who said that? "I don't have to to want the best for him. People deserve better than what he had with you. And if I don't care now, I will. If caring about people didn't take work, I'd be as friendless as you think I am." And as I think I am. The cold hollow Momohiko had created in me threatened to open again. I shut it out for now. Everything had its time and this was not the time.
"Fine. Go scurry off to Ounabara-sensei and do what you said you would, then." He flapped a hand at me. I suppressed the irritation that bubbled up at seeing the gesture. It wasn't like I hadn't already known he was arrogant.
I bowed. "Thanks for cooperating, Yamada-senpai." Turned, ready to do just that, and made it a few paces away before he spoke again.
"Hey. You'd better take care of Nanase. He's not from that high a district, but-" his breath hitched "-there are bastards wherever you go. You act like them and I don't care how well-bred you are or how much knowledge you've got crammed into that crazy head of yours. You die. And don't go getting yourself disappeared before you've talked to Ounabara."
I kept walking, calling over my shoulder, "Sure thing."
Note to self: Keep an eye on Nanase. It looks like I've exchanged one headache for another.
"Someday," I declared, breezing into Mizuchi, "I'm going to drop dead of exhaustion and it's going to be Himura's fault."
Shinji whistled. "No honorific. Somebody's pissed."
I shot an 'idiot little brother' glare his way and settled gingerly onto the stone steps beside him, sticky with pollen still wet from last night's rain. Sometimes summer sucked.
"I thought you didn't meet with him until later, Nariko-san," Aizen said, fidgeting at the edge of our circle as usual. Well, calling it a circle was being generous. 'Collection of people in a shape that couldn't be described as a polygon' was more accurate.
"Afternoon, Hirako-chan!" Nanase sang out, echoed by Shinju's quieter "Hello, Hirako-chan" a heartbeat later. Minoru mumbled something that might've been a hello.
I smiled broadly at Aizen, scooching so he was a little more in the circle. "Good memory. Yeah, I don't, but if I didn't have to keep his abuse in mind I wouldn't have to stress about getting my work done before then." Then, turning to my other friends, I said, "Afternoon, guys."
If my smile dimmed a little for them, not having to be so bright for those who weren't future megalomaniacs, that was just too bad.
"So, what'd I miss?" I asked, spreading my materials out.
"I'm writing about the Punishment Force and what they get called to deal with," Shinju said, gesturing to a half-filled piece of paper in front of her. "It's pretty short since they obviously can't teach us the details."
Shinji rolled his eyes. "I'm supposed ta learn a couple hand seals by tomorrow. They're testin' for speed," he complained.
I rolled my eyes back. "Like you aren't fast enough with your fingers when there're mochi around?"
His grin was completely and utterly unrepentant.
"I'm memorizing a Hadou incantation. Wanna see?" Nanase practically bounced, impressive considering he was kneeling in seiza in front of a scroll. I held back giggles. Somebody should take the poor kid for a walk every day and burn off some of that energy.
"Sure," I said. "Just a sec." I glanced over at Aizen, hoping he'd say what he was doing without prompting. It was like pulling teeth to get him to talk sometimes.
"I have an essay on important events in West Rukongai history," he obliged me. "I'm mostly done, if you want to talk about Zanpakutou?"
Tempting, but someone hadn't spoken up.
"Minoru-kun?" I said, raising an eyebrow at him. "Need any-"
"No." His voice couldn't have been any closer to an animal's growl, sullen like a child's. "Stupid essay, I told him-!" He broke off, flushing purple. Given how everybody suddenly seemed to be looking elsewhere... They didn't know Minoru was illiterate. Teased him, maybe? Either way, major button pushed.
I shot Shinji a look. You wanna handle this, or should I?
He took me up on it. "Yo, there's no point in refusing. It's still yer work if somebody else writes it for ya."
"I don't care," Minoru said, shaking his head hard. "I'm not givin' inta that asshole!"
"It's not about givin' inta him or not," Shinji went on, jaw set as his opponent's. "No point in gettin' lower marks than ya have ta. Yeah, sometimes ya gotta take a stand, but this ain't anythin' more than a drop in the bucket in the grand scheme of things."
Minoru's voice rose. "He knew I can't read! And he still said I had to write that damn essay! I hate nobles!"
I hate you. Not the first time someone had said that to me, or implied it. It was easy to retreat into the knowledge of a life where I wasn't a noble, never had been. Hate? Meaningless to me.
But not to Shinji, one eye twitching in a distinctly unfunny way. Not to Shinju, who looked like Minoru had run her through. And definitely not to Nanase, who looked torn between agreeing and defending us.
And I didn't need to be able to read Aizen's reiatsu, heavy with suppressed anger, to notice the answering rage in every line of his body. But he hadn't reacted, so the volcano wasn't erupting just yet. Phew.
So it fell to me to keep the peace. I hid a grimace. I would've liked Shinju to mollify everyone with her sweet words, or failing that Shinji, who exemplified our clan's light-heartedness. But Shinji's reiatsu, blazing like midsummer in a desert, had just about slipped its leash and Shinju would cry if she said a word. Minoru... didn't seem particularly likely to back down either, fists clenched at his sides.
"Okay," I said, suppressing any emotion in my voice. "Why?"
He sputtered, caught off guard. "Why? Whaddya mean, why?"
"Exactly what I said," I replied, folding my hands tight in my lap. Don't punch the idiot, don't punch the idiot... He was a justified idiot, but an idiot nonetheless for saying that aloud, with multiple witnesses, and to a mostly-noble group. Good thing we were relatively decent nobles. "Why do you hate nobles? Just curious."
The trick was working. I heard it in the hitch in his voice and felt it in the subsiding focus in his reiatsu. Still churning with frustration, but distracted by my question. "Because... ya do things Rukon folk don't get and don't explain any of it, just expect us to do it because some broad brought ya inta the world kickin' and screamin' and not us. Ya feel free to treat us like dirt and justify it by pointin' at some fancy title. Souls starve 'cause they can't make it here in time and none of ya care!" Water shone in dark eyes, a hair away from spilling out.
I filtered that through my mental Kansai-ben filter and then again through my anger filter. What I got began a pounding in my temples. If I refuted what he said—and that'd be lying—then I'd have a couple hurt, pissed-off Rukongai kids on my hands and possibly earn the ire of a batshit insane superbeing. If I agreed with him, I'd have a couple hurt, pissed-off nobles on my hands and jeopardize my relationship with Shinji to boot. I couldn't afford either.
Lucky for me, I'd long ago mastered the art of riding the fence. "You're angry because we take and the way we give back isn't obvious. Because a lot of the time there isn't time to explain everything and so many factors are under consideration that it'd make no sense anyway. Because the clan system is meant to ensure that heirs are trained to do their duty, but when bad apples come along or not everyone can be pleased it looks like power is arbitrary. And that the 'all-powerful clans' can do something about souls unfortunate enough to be missed or distant." The thrill of smugness flickered around Shinju and Shinji, anger returning to Minoru and beginning, subdued, in Nanase. Aizen felt—but didn't look—like he was about to go postal. Shiiiiiiiit.
One side appeased, one to go. "However." I held up my hand, purely to feel impressive. "You aren't wrong. Can I speak freely?" I shot a glance at Shinju, who gave me a puzzled, tearful nod. A flash of my reiatsu revealed no onmitsu, though that didn't mean they weren't there. I decided not to say everything I thought. "Then I will. Soul Society is stagnant. Shinigami take care of Seireitei more than the Rukongai. Order is the same way things have always been, not how they should be. Not that that's always bad," I added, glancing around as obviously as I could to make it clear that I was trying to appease any eavesdroppers. "Certain people are spoiled and feel entitled to their rank. And we let it happen in the name of tradition. Of what's always worked."
I paused for dramatic effect, bowed my head. "I'm sorry. I can't do anything about your teacher being a jerk. Just offer help. Same with the government."
If we'd been in a different manga, my friends' jaws would've been scraping the ground. Goal achieved.
I shrugged, like I hadn't just bordered on treasonous. "Shinigami officers have power. Who says I can't do something about it?"
"That's-" Shinju broke off just short of that word.
I slid my gaze over to her, faux-casual, twisting the fingers of one hand with the other to hide their telltale stillness. "Not really. I don't want to take down the government. Just improve it."
Shinji whistled, low and long. "Maybe it's a good thing that Oshiro banned ya from the library. Clearly they've got some funny ideas there."
"Good ideas," Aizen put in. I stared at him, wide-eyed, before I remembered that surprise kinda ruined my carefully crafted 'brilliant older sister' mystique. Not that Shinji paid attention to it. The writhing rage in his reiatsu had faded to nearly nothing. "Odd, for a noble."
I sighed. "So be it. Normalcy's not for me anyway." Which, really, I was resigned to. My brother was a future captain and the rest of my family spies. Normalcy was never going to happen.
Minoru gulped. "M-maybe I shouldn'ta taken up with ya," he stammered, voice returned to its usual volume. "You're gonna get us all killed."
I shook my head hard. "I won't! Not if you don't get involved. Won't even get myself killed if I don't get caught." Back to the schoolgirl. I slung an arm around Shinji's shoulders, grinning. "Besides, what're they gonna do if my brother's a captain, huh?"
"Hey!" Shinji squawked. "Don't go makin' promises for me ta keep!"
I stuck my tongue out at him. "Quiet, you. They'll have you graduating early, you mark my words." I turned back to Minoru. "You too, if you work hard."
The scowl returned. "I thought ya said no teasin', Nariko-san."
I rolled my eyes skyward. Okay, he wouldn't be a captain like Shinji, but a seated officer for sure. "Someday someone's going to believe me when I tell them I don't lie and I'll be incredibly surprised," I said to no one in particular. "Seriously, I can see it. Maybe in the Ninth or Tenth. But they aren't going to let you if you get bad grades."
"That yer way of sayin' I should give in ta Bastard-sensei?" Minoru grumbled.
"Yeah," I said, lacing my fingers together. "It sucks, but there's no getting around him now. Headmaster's just going to back him up. Better to just do it, then show him up by graduating and getting a better position than that jerk could ever dream of. 'Sides, you don't think there aren't other kids in your position, do you? They're doing the exact same thing."
"I don't believe ya," Minoru said firmly. "But fine. And no offense, but could Shinji-san maybe write it?"
By the time we finished our study session, everybody had their work done and no one was upset anymore. Outwardly, anyway.
"Hey, Shinju-sa- Shinju-chan," I said as we left, trying to switch honorifics and not quite making the change smoothly. Stupid tongue had used up its eloquence for the day.
"Yes?" She turned, smile plastered on.
"Are you okay? With what was said, I wasn't sure..." I fixed my gaze firmly on the walkway instead of her face.
She hesitated for a long second. "Oh, I'm fine. Minoru-san's having a bad day, I'm sure," she said.
"Hey." I tried to reach out and touch her shoulder reassuringly and ended up poking her. "If you're mad, or hurt, or whatever because of him? You can tell me. I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to."
Shinju sniffled. "Really, I'm fine. You and Minoru-san had a point, you know."
Ah. So that was the problem—she thought I didn't like nobles too. Maybe I'd leaned a little more towards one side of the fence than I'd intended. "Minoru-kun had a point," I corrected, scuffing my sandals on the path. "I just wanted everyone to calm down. Less trouble that way."
"...you do a lot of things so there'll be less trouble, don't you." Shinju's face and voice were unreadable, slate blue eyes staring straight ahead and reiatsu drawn in close to her skin.
"I'm not sure what you mean," I said carefully. Shit. Shitshitshitfuck. I'd hoped that my machinations—had I really made many?—had gone unnoticed.
"You just... seem like you have an agenda," Shinju said. "Like you look at life and see obstacles to get out of the way, you know."
Okay, now how do I convince her—wait. I shook my head, both in response to Shinju and to that thought. That's exactly what she thinks I'm doing. And I'm not. Am I? I'm not a sociopath. I know I'm not. People matter. I just can't let them get in the way of making sure the world doesn't end. "I- my dad says everyone you meet has an agenda. So I'd be lying if I said I didn't," I said, hiding my hands in my sleeves. "But I promise you it's a good agenda. I like life. I like living. It's just easier for me to- to take a step back sometimes. Besides, why would anyone want trouble?"
Shinju's lips curved into a slight smile. "Fair point. I don't know how much I agree with it, you know? It seems... inadvisable."
I laughed, half-forced, half-genuine. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but I have trouble taking advice. I get what you mean," I added when it looked like she was going to explain herself. "But I think it's possible. And I promise you I won't risk my neck or anyone else's for it." Key word being 'or,' I added mentally. It's going to have to be one or the other depending on how well I pull this off.
But I'd try to make sure no one got hurt. If people died, it should be the person who wasn't supposed to be there, not people who'd never even imagined other worlds.
Shinju lay snoring on her futon, conflict resolved earlier that evening and evidently not troubling her further. Good.
Meanwhile, I sat cross-legged on my futon, asauchi drawn and resting on my lap. In the shadows and moonlight spilling in from our window, it was midnight blue and silver, a pretty combination. Now, if only those colors went with my hair. I lifted one hand from the blade to finger the light strands, hanging unbound by my face. For all my disapproval of Shinju's hair, mine wasn't much better.
Focus. For once I couldn't tell the difference between the mental reminders I gave myself so often and the whispers of my budding Zanpakutou, one of the sources of my voices. Both were stern, yet strangely soothing, though the latter sounded much more cultured. My mental voice came from a mouth dirtier than my waraji.
I should probably get on that, I thought, eyeing the pollen on the sandals by the door.
Focus, daoshi. Definitely the Zanpakutou spirit this time, something 'shh'ing behind its words. Stay committed to your little rebellion.
It wasn't much of a rebellion, I thought as I let my hand fall back to the asauchi. Really, it was more like doing extra credit in my free time, only I didn't get extra points for it. But if Oshiro was going to punish me for going to the library like any ambitious student would, studying outside of his class was rebellion enough.
Now, time to get back to meditation. I'd just about memorized the questions from that class anyway.
Question Twelve, the spirit prompted.
Right. 'How do you seek to best serve Soul Society?' I rolled my eyes, both physically and mentally. Nimaiya would've slapped the idea right out of my head. But I didn't really have anything else to go by...
Stupid daoshi. You think you're restricted to what someone else gives you? the spirit scolded. Make them up if you aren't satisfied.
Yes, 'mom,' I grumbled.
My ears popped painfully as a wave of static blasted through my head. I blinked, licking suddenly dry lips and tasting ozone.
Hypocrite! Don't scold your brother for disrespect and turn around and sass me, the spirit snapped, voice crackly instead of whispering.
Even though it was in my head, I flushed, averting my eyes from its silvery blade. I'm sorry, I replied with more sincerity than I'd expected from myself. No shame or social pressure to force me this time, just genuine remorse. Forgive me?
An almost tangible pause. Yes, the spirit said, whispery echoes returning as its tone softened. Now, if you would come up with your own questions?
Fine. I sat back, sighing. The silence around me swallowed the sound. Weird, that I didn't hear my not-yet-Zanpakutou's voice as loudly as the others, half-drowned by shushing like leaves and staticky crackling, but maybe that was because it hadn't-
Oh. Ohhhh. My eyes, half-closed in thought, flew wide open. The voices weren't my imagination. They were other people's Zanpakutou. That... explained a lot. Why I heard the raspy voice of Byakuren only around Seinosuke, for instance. Why I'd heard the deep voice of Engetsu upon meeting Isshin.
Knowing why didn't necessarily make it better, though. I hadn't started out hearing Zanpakutou, after all, and it'd gotten more frequent and louder since that had begun, which implied that my newfound ability would get more powerful as time went on. With a hurried apology to my Zanpakutou spirit, I forced my mind out of hajimezen-mode and into past-life-mode. Did canon say anything about this? I doubted it, though I half-remembered something happening in Ichigo's fight with Kenpachi. I untangled my legs and tip-toed across the room, snatching my future events scroll and uncapping it.
Nothing, I concluded after a quick scan of the scroll's contents. Ichigo'd felt Kenpachi's sword screaming, but that was easily attributed to Kenpachi's monstrous reiatsu and the ferocity with which Kenpachi'd attacked. Plus, a neglected Zanpakutou like that probably would've shouted so loud anyone could hear. I rolled it back up and went back to my futon.
So. Pros of being able to hear Zanpakutou: it was a little like mind-reading. Not really, though, since I only got to hear it when the Zanpakutou responded and then only one side of the conversation. Or maybe I'd get the ability to hear them all the time later. I kinda hoped not. Zanpakutou reflected wielders, and their wielders were as petty as anyone else.
Cons: I had precisely zero ability to turn it off or otherwise control it, which pretty much meant I couldn't use it to find people. The fact that it seemed to require me to be in close proximity to people didn't help. And it was distracting, as my formerly-broken nose could attest. Kinda annoying, depending on the spirit. Why couldn't I have the ability to see the spirits instead? Improved vision would've been nice, if only to make up for poor vision in my last life.
Overall, it wasn't too much of a problem now that I knew what was going on. A mild nuisance more than anything. Except for whatever'd happened with Oshiro, now that I thought about it. Metal against metal? I could only pray that other Zanpakutou weren't so grating. And more comprehensible. How on earth Oshiro heard his spirit was beyond me...
Daoshi, my spirit reminded me, weren't you in the middle of something?
Right. What questions could I think of that were more me?
How do I want people to remember me? That was a good one. One I'd need to think about to decide what I'd do in between the Hollowfication and now. Did I want to be like Shinji, bored mask hiding extreme competence? Like Urahara, goofy act tricking nearly everyone despite his recorded brilliance? Maybe even like Nanao, serious and respected despite rarely unleashing her power? What legacy would I leave behind?
It was a more important question than it seemed at first glance. Depending on how I acted in the meantime, Soul Society might treat me differently. If I built up a stellar reputation for myself, they might be willing to negotiate when Ichigo and company invaded Seireitei. It would certainly save a lot of trouble if they didn't have to fight their way through Soul Society. I'd have to make up for that by making Urahara train Ichigo a lot more, but it would be worth it. Communication would've solved a lot of problems in Bleach.
I want to achieve, I decided, and I want to do it on my terms. Not mimicking anyone else.
So what are your terms, daoshi? The spirit murmured, its voice a hair less obscured than it had been before.
An even better question. No one judges me on my clan, I responded. If I do well, it won't be because of who my dad is, or who my brother is. I'll work as hard I can and make sure people know it, but not flaunt it. No, bragging was a bad idea. Bragging invited people to prove you wrong, besides being rude. And it would be so much more delicious if people overlooked my accomplishments and got their ass handed to them. And I'm going to alternately scare the shit out of them and make them underestimate me.
Whispers and electricity were silent for a heartbeat. ...explain, daoshi. I could've sworn I heard exasperation in the spirit's tone.
Simple. People won't fight me if I freak them out badly enough. Less dying that way. And if I act ordinary, they'll think I'm nothing special and be in for a surprise. Maybe even lie about what I can do.
Daoshi, it scolded, that's dishonest.
Fine, I replied. I won't lie. But if I don't tell them all the truth, it's not my fault if they're stupid.
One can never help others' stupidity, it agreed. But you'll make enemies that way. How will you deal with them?
No mercy, I thought back with more than a little reluctance. It was wrong for me to be that sure about my reaction to people attacking me. But I knew that I wouldn't lie down and take it. I couldn't. I didn't know what came after this world and didn't want to find out.
You fear death? Genuine surprise, in that lilting voice.
Anyone sane fears death, I thought. People who say they don't are lying. I want to live. I want to make this world better. If I die, I can't do anything. Why shouldn't I be scared of that?
Your warrior-poets would call you unenlightened for that, she—in a moment of clarity, I knew it was a she—said. They would say you can't possibly do the right thing with such a warped view on life.
I would say they have a warped view on enlightenment, I retorted. Hey, that's another part of how I'm going to deal with my enemies: do the right thing when I can. They've got to at least respect me if I do the right thing.
And if they have a different idea of what the right thing is? she asked.
Then fuck 'em. I couldn't have done anything to convince them anyway, I retorted. I was way too awake for this time of night. Maybe a walk would help. Hey, would you be mad if I went outside without putting you through an obi?
A sigh, like crashing waves. Just this once, she said.
I sheathed my Zanpakutou and rolled off my futon, padding across the floor so as not to wake Shinju. For once I was thankful that the doors here didn't use creaky hinges. Much quieter. I slid ours shut behind me without any trouble.
Once out in the cool night air, I let my feet carry me at random. Campus looked so different without students walking around it. Peaceful, certainly, but also lonely. Shadows softened what moonlight couldn't sharpen in its rays. A breeze drifted through the trees, carrying with it the sweet perfume of lilac and blood. I must've wandered to Mizuchi without realizing it.
Ice flooded me. I stopped dead in my tracks. Blood. Someone's bleeding. Oh no someone's bleeding have to help-
I half-dashed, half-stumbled into the courtyard. Who's hurt have to help-
Moonlight, spilling out from behind a cloud and illuminating a body. Pigtails in a pool of blood. No asauchi, but a sheath. One of my classmates. I ran to her side, kneeling as I reached frantically for my reiryoku. Blue-green light shimmered around my hands. But I didn't- we hadn't learned any Kidou yet, let alone healing Kidou! How did I-
Footsteps behind me, heavy enough to belong to an adult. Or upperclassman. I wasn't picky. I half-turned, relieved smile gripping a face that had to be as pale as the moon with how cold and bloodless it felt. "She's hurt, you have to-!"
A palm in front of my face. Light, brilliant white, illuminating a gaunt figure.
Nothing at all.
Notes:
Daoshi may or may not be right for Nariko. I have trouble researching these things. But I figure I already got it wrong, why stop? In any event, it can also mean a Taoist priest who practices austerity, which would fit the spirit I'm planning and the way Nariko likes to think of herself.
Anyway. Class tensions I think the manga should've highlighted! Renji, Rukia, and Hisagi worked really hard and clawed their way up from a very poor district to get where they were, only to be outclassed by nobles Byakuya, Ukitake, Kyouraku, Omaeda, Sui-Feng, etc. I'm not counting the post-time skip manga right now.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone