Post by GoldenKitten on Apr 7, 2011 18:55:48 GMT -4
The east land is burning.
Burning like the embers of hell.
Look there unto the lake amidst the smoke.
Purity, surrounded by the impure.
The heat smoldering, water evaporating to mist.
It shall not last.
The east land is burning.
And there shall be no respite.
For your body.
Or for your soul.
You have no choice, fate is cruel.
The east land, this land, the land of the soul.
Is burnt.
--------
Rukongai District 77 echoed with a myriad of sounds which were not meant to go together. Joy, and happiness. Anger, and rage. Loss, and grief. Each a brief moment in passing to the outside observer but of critical importance to those involved, each and every sound shaping a life for better or worse. There was no law here and people were free to do what they wished, this included the taking of freedom from others. A place of darkness and light, there was no right and wrong here, there were no imposed ethics, it simply existed as it was. A perfect place to hide from a judgmental outside world, but now the outside world was coming in, and with it would come the end of an era...unless it could be stopped in its tracks.
The shinigami had long lacked the ability to properly control the district and their catastrophic losses as of late had made it even more difficult to patrol. More and more of the Rukongai districts were becoming lawless zones, and those that already were poorly kept were now dropping into total anarchy. Gangs and warlords were making their own laws, crafting their own kingdoms, taking their little sliver of what there was to grab. But actions did not come without consequences, the shinigami were faltering but they were not gone, and when word reached them of some of the truly despicable acts rising in certain areas they had to act. One does not simply walk into hell though, and evil men know they are evil, it would not be easy for them to be located.
Luck had brought him here, but luck had not held out. Sotoshi had failed his undertaking, a simple patrol had turned into an investigation, an investigation that had not succeeded. It had been foolish of him to go alone, but he nor anyone else could have expected the complexity of what he had found. He had not given up, he strove forward, but in his heart he knew it was over.
Smoke bellowed from massive stone chimneys that had only recently been erected in the district. One of them not a hundred-meters away now lay flat on the ground, crumpled from the inside, its inner furnace spewing flames in every direction. But it was only proving a brief distraction and had cost him and others dearly. Screams of those trapped in the raging inferno split into the night, intermingled with the sounds of street vendors, performers, and others set through the maze like district whom weren't even yet aware of the danger. Even deeper amongst them lay the yells of his pursuers, dozens, hundreds of voices. Running up and down the dirt roads, the wooden ghettos, the stone towers, the ever expanding district that had been built and built upon until it was like an infinite painting of madness.
For someone unfamiliar with its intricacies they might as well have been spinning in circles. One instant Sotoshi was standing on grass surrounded by a traditional bamboo fence with his eyes drifting to the night sky, the next he was in a long hallway with what seemed to be dozens of levels above or below him. All he could do was hide, and move forward when given the chance to. From time to time he would hear voices calling out to one another; their target: him. When this happened he would hide in the darkness, they would pass him by, several minutes later the scene would repeat itself. Time, however, was not on his side. Lifesblood drained from him with every passing moment, he'd placed a makeshift tourniquet around his shoulder but it was only postponing his demise. The wound was massive and deep so much so that waves of liquid rolled off his arm with every act of exertion he took.
As this began to effect his judgment, the world becoming more and more of a blur, he finally made a mistake. Walking around the backside of a tall structure he thought himself hidden between it and a high bamboo fence. On the other side there was evidently a parallel road as he could hear city sounds which in a place like this would go on all night, there was no money, or fun to be had in rest...or so went the operation of such locales. Closed off from the outside it was something of a maintenance hall where the waste run-off of the buildings poured out, it should not have seen regular activity. So when a duo of pursuers exploded out from the far end he was taken completely aback and with faltering sensibilities did not react soon enough.
With torch in hand one of the men pointed in Sotoshi's direction as he spun on his heel and slammed through one of the back-alley doors. Inside he immediately grabbed the nearest item he could find, a chair, and braced it against the door. Just in time too as an instant later the duo was slamming into the entry, however it was a sturdy oak door and did not give. The men gave up rather quickly which seemed a blessing in disguise but Sotoshi quickly concluded that they knew this area far better than he, they were surely circling around him, and worse yet they might get others along the way.
Haste was paramount as he turned only to stop dead in his tracks with his eyes wide, for the first time taking stock of the room he had wandered into. A dimly lit hall proceeded forward and on either side were dozens of small cages, stacked atop one another, barely large enough for a small dog. In every single one of them lay the emaciated form of a human soul, of all ages and ethnicities. He tentatively approached several and looked inside, most were barely clothed and the odor wafting through the room suggested most if not all were dead, or almost there. As if in a daze he walked down the hall breathing heavily and unable to formulate proper thoughts, at the end of the hall it split into even more offshoots, and ostensibly even more out of sight.
And as far as he could tell ever one of them was a copy of that which he had just passed through. Red hot anger boiled within him and in an instant his faculties were clear once more, he had purpose. His wound forgotten he bolted through the hallways, looking for a way out. He could not stop to help these people but it was now imperative he got out and returned with others. Sotoshi had already learned this was a human trafficking operation when he witnessed a bidding war along with several healthier slaves in larger cells earlier in the evening which had sparked this entire thing. But this...this was a level of evil he could not allow to continue, and he would get the word out if it cost him his life.
Calls from behind acknowledged that the men from outside had attempted to flank him, the tone of the vocalizations suggested they hadn't seen him yet. Instead it was likely they had found that he was no longer there and were trying to decide how to locate him. However his second fear became reality when he realized there were dozens of voices and footfalls filling into the building, so they had gotten backup before giving chase. Eventually Sotoshi made his way out of the “storage” area and into a more formal business like setting, perhaps where transactions with buyers took place. Thankfully the building was proving a boon for him, it had many rooms to move through and when a voice came near he could quickly sneak into an adjacent room to let them pass by.
Though he did not know the district well or this building at all he was familiar enough with architecture to know he was getting close to the exit. Things were becoming more symmetrical leading into a large opening foyer, far behind he could still hear voices but they were not coming his way. A quick check into the front room showed a single guard was standing there with his back turned to Sotoshi, he slowly drew his zanpakutou and with only one good arm prepared it in a stabbing manner. Silently he dashed across the room and plunged it into the mans neck, the guard tried to make noise but the strike had been deft and accurate, he would be alerting nobody.
Sotoshi did not enjoy taking life, but he could not deny he relished in removing one of these monsters from existence, anybody who willingly took part in what he had witnessed this night had forgone their status as a human being. Checking that nobody was following he quickly made his way to the large double-doors which had to be the entrance, his hope was once he left he could quickly lose himself in the larger district which was not so readily under this particular warlords control. Lowering himself down his arm screamed in pain and he felt his strength sapping once more but he just dug his good hands fingers deep into the wound, shocking himself into activity. Pushing the door open slowly he tried to get a good look at what lay beyond but found that the door was recessed into an alcove making it impossible.
Pushing it just far enough to slip his body through he walked into a walled-in area that must have operated as a loading bay. It had high twenty-foot traditional rock walls with one massive gate at the far side and dozens of now empty carts lined against its walls. Instinctively he tried to make a move for the nearest wall, he was no second division stealth shinigami, but he knew his way around sneaking, and it was the logical option here. But before he could get further than a meter from the door a sharp sound exploded from the darkness before him, illuminated by a bright flash in the process.
He couldn't even call out as red-hot steel forced itself through his working arm and blew the shoulder out completely. With something like a battle-cry a half-dozen guards made themselves known having been in hiding behind the carts as they drew blades, there was no way for him to react. All their blades punctured various parts of his body in basic synchronization, some hitting important areas, others just doing damage; but in his state it was all deadly. Those with shorter blades retrieved the weapons and stabbed him multiple times while the longer blades just remained where they were, his body finally in shock tripped forward. He fell to one knee and only the blades puncturing his body braced him from falling completely flat, a mass puddle of blood pooled beneath him.
“Got'cha!” A voice cat-called from somewhere, the shape of a man appeared before him but in his mind it sounded far off.
Wearing a big open fur-jacket that exposed his disgustingly hairy chest the one-eyed man with long, thick curly black hair before him was every bit the unethical ring-leader you could expect. He didn't wear a patch over his missing eye instead leaving a vacant scarred socket staring back and you, and the beard covering most of his face was of the “mountain-man” variety. Walking forward but still a distance away he twirled a simple wooden cane in one hand and held a short pistol-musket in the other, clearly in this world it had spiritual properties. Latching the weapon to his belt he then clapped the free hand together with his other palm.
“Alright, shoooows over~~~!!! That cost us far to much time, let's clear some of the used cages out and get the new batch in. You three, dispose of the shinigami over in District 65, go find Imurakura, he'll help you make it look like the work of somebody el-”
The man kept talking, planning his next business meeting, Sotoshi was already little more than an afterthought. His mind was now far away, he'd lost far to much blood, and that he was even still remotely aware was a miracle in itself. But somewhere deep inside a fire was burning, the indignity of this all; his death, these peoples fates, the fact that he could not complete his mission and inform the 13th Division of what he had found. It plucked at him in his final moments and he managed extreme hate for himself, and the hate focused, rising like a phoenix till it sat in his heart and mind.
His hand lifted, grasping one of the blades pushed through his torso by the hilt, exerting more strength than should have been possible with the damage to his shoulders. Gripping, tightly, wrapping around, until his fingernails dug into his palm and began bleeding.
The first guards head came off without effort, flying through the air in a swirl of blood that was almost artistic, a full spin and the second guards right arm was gone before the blade was pushed deep into his chest. Three, four, five...he was not a thinking man, he was an instinctive animal, and he turned on the last guard.
That explosive sound again, a spread-pattern of pellets ripped through his stomach as blood and shredded intestines began to instantly pour out. But his momentum carried him forward as he rammed the blade through the last of the guards chest, his face almost colliding with the mans in the process. They stayed like that for what seemed an eternity, both men breathing their last painful gasps out inches from one-another. The ground around Sotoshi was like something out of a nightmare, deep in blood, much of it his. As his last victim was felled, eyes going wide, he slipped off the blade and Sotoshis own eyes fell to his blood red hands, liquid freely pouring out of all his wounds.
The leader spoke, “So your one of those types that never gives up, I'll give it to you you're a hardass. You know what? I hate people like that, people that lose, should just DIE!”
All his strength all his power, all of it, into his arm...for this one final time. He spun, he spun like a hurricane and let out what roar his broken body could afford. At the apex of the turn he released the blade point-first at the leader, it flew straight and true. His opponent had his own ranged weapon pointed straight at Sotoshi's head, his aim was spot on, he pulled the trigger.
Time seemed to freeze as the projectiles passed each other in mid-air. Sotoshi thought back on all the good and bad he had experienced in life...and in death. Darkness came next, but in the end, it had not been such a bad life. But he prayed that for the sake of those he could not save someone else would soon accomplish what he could not.
----------------
Kang was hard at work during his free-time in the 13th Division garden, or more precisely his garden. He'd wrangled a few other members into helping with the small patch of cultivated land in their spare time, but in all fairness it was his pet project...one of the bonuses of being a vice-captain was you kind of got to do what you wanted when not on missions. Of course, just because he was the one who started it didn't mean others didn't try to enjoy the view, the lazy bastards. But Kang never complained, to him the work he put into it was fun, and the eventual result made it worth it, if anything the fact that others could enjoy that final product was simply a positive reaction to something he would readily have done for himself.
He wasn't exactly a monster of a man but standing over two-meters and with every bit of it chiseled to perfection he certainly put most men to shame. Especially when (and as he was now) he worked in the fields without his shirt, sporting his impeccable Mr. Universe physique, his bright mane of red-hair only made him more difficult to miss as it toyfully played in the wind, bound into a single long tail. Currently his heavily tanned form was bent over, picking ripe strawberries off of a bush and into a wicker basked, the old tweed pipe falling from his lips giving him an older aura than his physical appearance suggested. After he'd ensured the plant was picked without being stripped he put the basket down, removed his pipe, and drew a sake bottle from his belt. He sat down with his legs splayed on the earthen ground and poured the sake over a strawberry before eating it, then taking a swig from the bottle.
He pointed across the clearing to where a young boy sat on the garden fence nursing his own bottle of alcohol, “Come now Kubi, we've been over this before. Being cared for is not such a terrible thing,” the words were calm and thoughtful, not seeming the least bit annoyed that this was apparently the umpteenth repetition.
Kang was always friendly with Kubi, and he was a voice of reason, though it often went unheard because he preached Rins point of view. Still he was never aggressive about it and instead simply stated the facts. When not trying to talk reason into the boy he treated him well, he respected his maturity, though not to the point he didn't put the kid-gloves on from time to time. Rin and Kang were different, but they shared a very similar core point, so in time Kang had come to support Rin's efforts. If Rin was the mother in her eyes, and the sister in Kubi's, then Kang was the big brother in his own...though he had no way of knowing how Kubi felt in return.
Taking another swig he twirled his pipe so a spiral of smoke filled the air, “You're loved, what do you need to prove? Why do you need to prove it? Does Rins reaction to your attempts not tell you that she would prefer you didn't?”
He placed the pipe in his mouth and pushed himself up from the ground. Walking through the rows he approached Kubi and placed the basket next to him, motioning to it in a way that said he could take one if he wished. Turning around he retrieved the hoe that was leaning against the fence and swung it to sit on his shoulder as he moved back into the small field.
He spoke longingly over his shoulder, “I've told you I have a daughter before, never spoke about it much though. She had similar feelings, wanted to prove herself as more than she thought she was, even though I told her I was just fine with it. She ignored me, as I suppose is a child's right to do, live their own life.”
Reaching an empty plot of land he twirled the hoe and then raised it high. Despite the calm look on his face as he spoke when the tool came down and hit the ground it was less like 'tiling the field' and more like 'obliterating the field' as a plume of dirt shot skyward. Someone was clearly talking a better game than what they were thinking. Seeming to recognize his mistake he pushed the dirt into place with his boots and his next hit was far weaker, properly churning the soil beneath into a healthy mix.
In between strikes he sighed, “And she succeeded, she proved she had more in her. But now...now with every step she takes forward it takes her one step further away from me. And that...that breaks my heart.”, a long silence followed and it seemed for a moment he forgot he was even talking to someone, but without warning he picked the pieces up and pointed at Kubi while wielding an evil eye.
“Do you wanna break Rin's heart son?!”, he let the question hang seriously for a moment before his old smile came back and he laughed it off as a joke, there was a distinct air about the comment that said it had been meant one-hundred percent honestly though.
“Just remember Kubi. You can grow up, but don't force it. Don't grow up just because you think you need to. Let it happen in its own time, if you do that, if you take the morals and beliefs that Rin has taught you and let the maturity come naturally...then, and only then will you be someone worth being proud of their growth. Because otherwise, Rin is happy with you now, and if you truly respect that then you wouldn't go against her...”
Things had gotten all serious in the garden this day, and silence pervaded in the time after. Wind poured over them rustling the trees that sat in-and-around the division, the only other sound the rhythmic churning of dirt as Kang tilled soil. A nostalgic cherry-scent poured from his pipe, he smoked all the time but for some reason it seemed to fit best when he was showing his age and getting all philosophical. You just couldn't help but feel that he had maybe missed his calling in life as an old mountain hermit. But the silent reverie was interrupted when a female voice called out, “Kubi! Are you over here?”
In an instant Kang dropped the hoe and in a flash of movement Kubi was no longer holding his sake bottle. Kang stood over him and lifted the bottle high, downing the entire containers contents in an instant, at just that moment Rin came turning around the corner. Throwing the bottle to the ground he retrieved the second bottle as Rin walked up and stared at him incredulously.
Finishing that bottle he turned to her and stated happily, “Man! I am a RAGING alcoholic! No underage drinking over here, no mam, just a man who cannot get enough of the stuff! God I'm happy, are you happy, mam?”
Both their eyes fell to Kubi...and the half-empty bottle at his feet, Kangs eye twitched before he pointed and continued, “And yah know, that bottle? TOTALLY mine to, I. Cannot. Get. ENOUGH. Of the happy juice, I figure that bottle must have just grown legs and walked over there. Know what I'm saying? Course you don't because you are a pure, and virtuous leader who would never do that like me, because I am unclean and just a terrible person. But regardless, no young kids drinking alcohol over here, no sir, MMMM alcohol, nom nom nom.”
With his mouth wide open he shot Kubi a dual-pair of thumbs up, “Right Kubi? Right?...Corroborate the stoooory mannn.”
He shot smiles back and forth to each of them waiting for Kubis response while Rin continued to give him a blank slate look of “Stop being an idiot”.
But before it could play out any further someone was yelling, “Captain! Captaaaain~~~!!!”, heavy footfalls followed shortly after. One of 13th divisions lower ranking members came flying their direction, obviously being used as a go-to message delivery boy. At first everyone present had just turned their attention to the young shinigami but the general air of the situation was still positive. However soon their eyes fell on the red parcel he was carrying and all of them, including Kang immediately sobered, dropping the act completely. A red-letter day, a letter dictating the demise of a division member.
----------------
Darkness fell on the 13th Division headquarters, both literal and metaphorically. Night had come and with it a tense atmosphere of unease, supplemented by sorrow or anger depending on which you were more privy to. Around the central pavilion of the division a dozen glowing lanterns had been lit, their light illuminating the outside area. There were always lights to do this in the evening hours but those had been removed and these ceremonial ones had taken their place, the light they provided was far softer, giving a surreal unearthly glow. Set before the main buildings entrance a small shrine had been pulled out and the candles set upon it lit, a single white flower from Kang's garden had been situated in the middle; the implication obvious.
Thirty-minutes prior almost every active combat member of the division had been situated beneath the pavilion, though the mood had been no more rambunctious than it was now that it was empty. Sitting in silence they had listened as Rin explained, Sotoshi Daijiro the 7th Seat of the division had been found, or what was left of him. A gang in the Rukongai district sixty-five had been brazen enough to claim responsibility, the shinigami were no longer commanding the respect they once had, evil people in Rukongai who had once been kept down were taking note of the decreased ability.
Now they thought they could do whatever they wanted...they were wrong, retribution was coming.
In the main office of 13th Division where Rin and the other leaders had to perform their more mundane office activities there wasn't much going on except for the occasional shuffle of papers or scratching of pen. A nearby window lay open exposing the glowing pavilion outside, now empty of anyone, the glow of the ceremonial lanterns showering over a empty world. It was not empty for no reason though, every member present had left to the district in question, there would be no gang once this night was over. Only a few members remained on the premise, this included Kubi who was sitting near the window, and one of the top office workers Laurel Hanzel who was responsible for much of the divisions resource management...currently she was also acting as something of a babysitter for the brash Kubi.
She would occasionally say something to him just to be friendly, but mostly kept to herself, plus after being told he had to stay by Rin, Kubi was likely in no mood for small talk. And so, by the light of a nearby candle Laurel quietly scribbled on dozens of forms, the contents unknown but surely of importance to the behind-the-scenes stability of the division. The grounds were eerily silent even for nighttime, after all even those that had remained were in a somber mood.
Sotoshi was widely regarded as one of the most honorable and stalwart members of the division, he had made friends easily and was always kind, even if they weren't best friends nobody in the division had ever been at odds with him either. Being a shinigami meant knowing you might die at any time, but it was the indignant manner in which his death had been treated that caused this intense miasma of rage amongst the division. Shinigami were meant to die in battle against hollows, or in an honorable duel, not be found strung up on the side of a wall with a giant banner plastered across them taking credit like a game trophy.
Time was standing still with nothing to do when suddenly a pounding knock that sounded more like a sledgehammer than a hand slammed on the front door. The unexpected noise combined with how loud it was caused Laurel to jump out of her chair as it spilled backward on to the ground. However, seeming to realize what it was at the last moment she recomposed herself hastily and called out, “Come in!”
The door opened to the darkness beyond, only problem being there should have been light coming in from the lanterns. It took a moment to recognize that the cause of this was that the figure at the door was so massive they completely filled the door frame. With pounding footfalls the giant lowered himself through the opening and stepped out into the room, he wore a mask over the lower half of his face and the only obvious features were his pallor skin and piercing eyes. Without a word he retrieved a note from his coat which was embossed with the ninth division seal and with two massive footsteps was at the desk. His sheer size along with the always dreaded ninth divisions presence was enough to make the none-combatant Laurel shirk backward and emit a low pathetic whine.
Placing the note on the desk the man seemed to be looking at Laurel with disgust, anyone who knew the ninth divisions motto of power would understand why. Regardless he made no mention of this and instead spoke in an elongated hissing tone and anytime he made a punctuated remark plumes of grayish mist would escape the holes in his metallic mask, “This is a copy of information provided to 9th division by 2nd division, we've been ordered to provide it to you by the Commander General.”
He seemed genuinely annoyed that they were being forced to work with others, “Your man was spotted in District 77 last night, later witnesses reported a body being transported through the districts to sixty-five. We've traced them back to the building presented in this letter. As part of the Rukongai watch program ninth division is on the move in conjunction with twelfth, and sixth divisions, or at least those assigned to the watch program.”
A sickeningly thick plume of smoke escaped the mask as he chuckled, “In short your captain went after the wrong people. You'll report this to her, and tell her Captain Laetitia d-...requests...that she set up a perimeter net around District 77 to capture any would-be-escapist, we will handle the...procurement of the criminals. That is all.”
Without a word he turned around and walked off, gone through the door as fast as he had arrived. His tone, particularly toward the captain was inexcusable but not many would have had the gumption to talk back to him, least of all a pencil-pusher like Laurel. She had been on the verge of tears almost and the moment he was gone she let out the longest sigh in the world, it marked her as weak but it was understandable, it was difficult to be in the room with anyone from 9th division but especially those who seemed to prescribe to Laetitias way of thinking.
Once he had been gone for almost a minute Laurel picked up the letter, shuddering as she did so, then broke the seal and inspected the contents. Her imperceptible nod seemed to acknowledge that it said exactly what the deliverer had told them, she then placed it in a pouch strapped to her waist and looked to Kubi. Her face scrunched up into a furrow as if she was unsure of how to proceed, finally she walked over and bent down to his level, placing a hand on his shoulder.
She waved her other finger in his direction though not aggressively so, just as if to make a point, “This is important Kubi, lives and the divisions honor rests on this. I have to take this message to Rin so I'm going to leave you here. I'm trusting you Kubi, Rin would be sad if you disobeyed and left, and both us will be in trouble. Can I trust you to stay here and not try anything? This isn't a joke, lots of people could die...”
Once she got affirmation she backed off and nodded. She moved to the door, looked over her shoulder at Kubi once more, then walked out into the night. This left Kubi all alone in the silent office, Laurels footsteps quickly disappeared from audibility, leaving only wind and the slowly burning fires from the nearby lanterns. Of course all of that was unimportant, the real question was how long it took Kubi to throw caution to the wind and ignore the promise he just made.
Because...this story totally wouldn't be worth telling if he just sat around and put together jigsaw puzzles or something...you didn't really think that's what was going to happen did you?
Burning like the embers of hell.
Look there unto the lake amidst the smoke.
Purity, surrounded by the impure.
The heat smoldering, water evaporating to mist.
It shall not last.
The east land is burning.
And there shall be no respite.
For your body.
Or for your soul.
You have no choice, fate is cruel.
The east land, this land, the land of the soul.
Is burnt.
--------
Rukongai District 77 echoed with a myriad of sounds which were not meant to go together. Joy, and happiness. Anger, and rage. Loss, and grief. Each a brief moment in passing to the outside observer but of critical importance to those involved, each and every sound shaping a life for better or worse. There was no law here and people were free to do what they wished, this included the taking of freedom from others. A place of darkness and light, there was no right and wrong here, there were no imposed ethics, it simply existed as it was. A perfect place to hide from a judgmental outside world, but now the outside world was coming in, and with it would come the end of an era...unless it could be stopped in its tracks.
The shinigami had long lacked the ability to properly control the district and their catastrophic losses as of late had made it even more difficult to patrol. More and more of the Rukongai districts were becoming lawless zones, and those that already were poorly kept were now dropping into total anarchy. Gangs and warlords were making their own laws, crafting their own kingdoms, taking their little sliver of what there was to grab. But actions did not come without consequences, the shinigami were faltering but they were not gone, and when word reached them of some of the truly despicable acts rising in certain areas they had to act. One does not simply walk into hell though, and evil men know they are evil, it would not be easy for them to be located.
Luck had brought him here, but luck had not held out. Sotoshi had failed his undertaking, a simple patrol had turned into an investigation, an investigation that had not succeeded. It had been foolish of him to go alone, but he nor anyone else could have expected the complexity of what he had found. He had not given up, he strove forward, but in his heart he knew it was over.
Smoke bellowed from massive stone chimneys that had only recently been erected in the district. One of them not a hundred-meters away now lay flat on the ground, crumpled from the inside, its inner furnace spewing flames in every direction. But it was only proving a brief distraction and had cost him and others dearly. Screams of those trapped in the raging inferno split into the night, intermingled with the sounds of street vendors, performers, and others set through the maze like district whom weren't even yet aware of the danger. Even deeper amongst them lay the yells of his pursuers, dozens, hundreds of voices. Running up and down the dirt roads, the wooden ghettos, the stone towers, the ever expanding district that had been built and built upon until it was like an infinite painting of madness.
For someone unfamiliar with its intricacies they might as well have been spinning in circles. One instant Sotoshi was standing on grass surrounded by a traditional bamboo fence with his eyes drifting to the night sky, the next he was in a long hallway with what seemed to be dozens of levels above or below him. All he could do was hide, and move forward when given the chance to. From time to time he would hear voices calling out to one another; their target: him. When this happened he would hide in the darkness, they would pass him by, several minutes later the scene would repeat itself. Time, however, was not on his side. Lifesblood drained from him with every passing moment, he'd placed a makeshift tourniquet around his shoulder but it was only postponing his demise. The wound was massive and deep so much so that waves of liquid rolled off his arm with every act of exertion he took.
As this began to effect his judgment, the world becoming more and more of a blur, he finally made a mistake. Walking around the backside of a tall structure he thought himself hidden between it and a high bamboo fence. On the other side there was evidently a parallel road as he could hear city sounds which in a place like this would go on all night, there was no money, or fun to be had in rest...or so went the operation of such locales. Closed off from the outside it was something of a maintenance hall where the waste run-off of the buildings poured out, it should not have seen regular activity. So when a duo of pursuers exploded out from the far end he was taken completely aback and with faltering sensibilities did not react soon enough.
With torch in hand one of the men pointed in Sotoshi's direction as he spun on his heel and slammed through one of the back-alley doors. Inside he immediately grabbed the nearest item he could find, a chair, and braced it against the door. Just in time too as an instant later the duo was slamming into the entry, however it was a sturdy oak door and did not give. The men gave up rather quickly which seemed a blessing in disguise but Sotoshi quickly concluded that they knew this area far better than he, they were surely circling around him, and worse yet they might get others along the way.
Haste was paramount as he turned only to stop dead in his tracks with his eyes wide, for the first time taking stock of the room he had wandered into. A dimly lit hall proceeded forward and on either side were dozens of small cages, stacked atop one another, barely large enough for a small dog. In every single one of them lay the emaciated form of a human soul, of all ages and ethnicities. He tentatively approached several and looked inside, most were barely clothed and the odor wafting through the room suggested most if not all were dead, or almost there. As if in a daze he walked down the hall breathing heavily and unable to formulate proper thoughts, at the end of the hall it split into even more offshoots, and ostensibly even more out of sight.
And as far as he could tell ever one of them was a copy of that which he had just passed through. Red hot anger boiled within him and in an instant his faculties were clear once more, he had purpose. His wound forgotten he bolted through the hallways, looking for a way out. He could not stop to help these people but it was now imperative he got out and returned with others. Sotoshi had already learned this was a human trafficking operation when he witnessed a bidding war along with several healthier slaves in larger cells earlier in the evening which had sparked this entire thing. But this...this was a level of evil he could not allow to continue, and he would get the word out if it cost him his life.
Calls from behind acknowledged that the men from outside had attempted to flank him, the tone of the vocalizations suggested they hadn't seen him yet. Instead it was likely they had found that he was no longer there and were trying to decide how to locate him. However his second fear became reality when he realized there were dozens of voices and footfalls filling into the building, so they had gotten backup before giving chase. Eventually Sotoshi made his way out of the “storage” area and into a more formal business like setting, perhaps where transactions with buyers took place. Thankfully the building was proving a boon for him, it had many rooms to move through and when a voice came near he could quickly sneak into an adjacent room to let them pass by.
Though he did not know the district well or this building at all he was familiar enough with architecture to know he was getting close to the exit. Things were becoming more symmetrical leading into a large opening foyer, far behind he could still hear voices but they were not coming his way. A quick check into the front room showed a single guard was standing there with his back turned to Sotoshi, he slowly drew his zanpakutou and with only one good arm prepared it in a stabbing manner. Silently he dashed across the room and plunged it into the mans neck, the guard tried to make noise but the strike had been deft and accurate, he would be alerting nobody.
Sotoshi did not enjoy taking life, but he could not deny he relished in removing one of these monsters from existence, anybody who willingly took part in what he had witnessed this night had forgone their status as a human being. Checking that nobody was following he quickly made his way to the large double-doors which had to be the entrance, his hope was once he left he could quickly lose himself in the larger district which was not so readily under this particular warlords control. Lowering himself down his arm screamed in pain and he felt his strength sapping once more but he just dug his good hands fingers deep into the wound, shocking himself into activity. Pushing the door open slowly he tried to get a good look at what lay beyond but found that the door was recessed into an alcove making it impossible.
Pushing it just far enough to slip his body through he walked into a walled-in area that must have operated as a loading bay. It had high twenty-foot traditional rock walls with one massive gate at the far side and dozens of now empty carts lined against its walls. Instinctively he tried to make a move for the nearest wall, he was no second division stealth shinigami, but he knew his way around sneaking, and it was the logical option here. But before he could get further than a meter from the door a sharp sound exploded from the darkness before him, illuminated by a bright flash in the process.
He couldn't even call out as red-hot steel forced itself through his working arm and blew the shoulder out completely. With something like a battle-cry a half-dozen guards made themselves known having been in hiding behind the carts as they drew blades, there was no way for him to react. All their blades punctured various parts of his body in basic synchronization, some hitting important areas, others just doing damage; but in his state it was all deadly. Those with shorter blades retrieved the weapons and stabbed him multiple times while the longer blades just remained where they were, his body finally in shock tripped forward. He fell to one knee and only the blades puncturing his body braced him from falling completely flat, a mass puddle of blood pooled beneath him.
“Got'cha!” A voice cat-called from somewhere, the shape of a man appeared before him but in his mind it sounded far off.
Wearing a big open fur-jacket that exposed his disgustingly hairy chest the one-eyed man with long, thick curly black hair before him was every bit the unethical ring-leader you could expect. He didn't wear a patch over his missing eye instead leaving a vacant scarred socket staring back and you, and the beard covering most of his face was of the “mountain-man” variety. Walking forward but still a distance away he twirled a simple wooden cane in one hand and held a short pistol-musket in the other, clearly in this world it had spiritual properties. Latching the weapon to his belt he then clapped the free hand together with his other palm.
“Alright, shoooows over~~~!!! That cost us far to much time, let's clear some of the used cages out and get the new batch in. You three, dispose of the shinigami over in District 65, go find Imurakura, he'll help you make it look like the work of somebody el-”
The man kept talking, planning his next business meeting, Sotoshi was already little more than an afterthought. His mind was now far away, he'd lost far to much blood, and that he was even still remotely aware was a miracle in itself. But somewhere deep inside a fire was burning, the indignity of this all; his death, these peoples fates, the fact that he could not complete his mission and inform the 13th Division of what he had found. It plucked at him in his final moments and he managed extreme hate for himself, and the hate focused, rising like a phoenix till it sat in his heart and mind.
His hand lifted, grasping one of the blades pushed through his torso by the hilt, exerting more strength than should have been possible with the damage to his shoulders. Gripping, tightly, wrapping around, until his fingernails dug into his palm and began bleeding.
The first guards head came off without effort, flying through the air in a swirl of blood that was almost artistic, a full spin and the second guards right arm was gone before the blade was pushed deep into his chest. Three, four, five...he was not a thinking man, he was an instinctive animal, and he turned on the last guard.
That explosive sound again, a spread-pattern of pellets ripped through his stomach as blood and shredded intestines began to instantly pour out. But his momentum carried him forward as he rammed the blade through the last of the guards chest, his face almost colliding with the mans in the process. They stayed like that for what seemed an eternity, both men breathing their last painful gasps out inches from one-another. The ground around Sotoshi was like something out of a nightmare, deep in blood, much of it his. As his last victim was felled, eyes going wide, he slipped off the blade and Sotoshis own eyes fell to his blood red hands, liquid freely pouring out of all his wounds.
The leader spoke, “So your one of those types that never gives up, I'll give it to you you're a hardass. You know what? I hate people like that, people that lose, should just DIE!”
All his strength all his power, all of it, into his arm...for this one final time. He spun, he spun like a hurricane and let out what roar his broken body could afford. At the apex of the turn he released the blade point-first at the leader, it flew straight and true. His opponent had his own ranged weapon pointed straight at Sotoshi's head, his aim was spot on, he pulled the trigger.
Time seemed to freeze as the projectiles passed each other in mid-air. Sotoshi thought back on all the good and bad he had experienced in life...and in death. Darkness came next, but in the end, it had not been such a bad life. But he prayed that for the sake of those he could not save someone else would soon accomplish what he could not.
----------------
Kang was hard at work during his free-time in the 13th Division garden, or more precisely his garden. He'd wrangled a few other members into helping with the small patch of cultivated land in their spare time, but in all fairness it was his pet project...one of the bonuses of being a vice-captain was you kind of got to do what you wanted when not on missions. Of course, just because he was the one who started it didn't mean others didn't try to enjoy the view, the lazy bastards. But Kang never complained, to him the work he put into it was fun, and the eventual result made it worth it, if anything the fact that others could enjoy that final product was simply a positive reaction to something he would readily have done for himself.
He wasn't exactly a monster of a man but standing over two-meters and with every bit of it chiseled to perfection he certainly put most men to shame. Especially when (and as he was now) he worked in the fields without his shirt, sporting his impeccable Mr. Universe physique, his bright mane of red-hair only made him more difficult to miss as it toyfully played in the wind, bound into a single long tail. Currently his heavily tanned form was bent over, picking ripe strawberries off of a bush and into a wicker basked, the old tweed pipe falling from his lips giving him an older aura than his physical appearance suggested. After he'd ensured the plant was picked without being stripped he put the basket down, removed his pipe, and drew a sake bottle from his belt. He sat down with his legs splayed on the earthen ground and poured the sake over a strawberry before eating it, then taking a swig from the bottle.
He pointed across the clearing to where a young boy sat on the garden fence nursing his own bottle of alcohol, “Come now Kubi, we've been over this before. Being cared for is not such a terrible thing,” the words were calm and thoughtful, not seeming the least bit annoyed that this was apparently the umpteenth repetition.
Kang was always friendly with Kubi, and he was a voice of reason, though it often went unheard because he preached Rins point of view. Still he was never aggressive about it and instead simply stated the facts. When not trying to talk reason into the boy he treated him well, he respected his maturity, though not to the point he didn't put the kid-gloves on from time to time. Rin and Kang were different, but they shared a very similar core point, so in time Kang had come to support Rin's efforts. If Rin was the mother in her eyes, and the sister in Kubi's, then Kang was the big brother in his own...though he had no way of knowing how Kubi felt in return.
Taking another swig he twirled his pipe so a spiral of smoke filled the air, “You're loved, what do you need to prove? Why do you need to prove it? Does Rins reaction to your attempts not tell you that she would prefer you didn't?”
He placed the pipe in his mouth and pushed himself up from the ground. Walking through the rows he approached Kubi and placed the basket next to him, motioning to it in a way that said he could take one if he wished. Turning around he retrieved the hoe that was leaning against the fence and swung it to sit on his shoulder as he moved back into the small field.
He spoke longingly over his shoulder, “I've told you I have a daughter before, never spoke about it much though. She had similar feelings, wanted to prove herself as more than she thought she was, even though I told her I was just fine with it. She ignored me, as I suppose is a child's right to do, live their own life.”
Reaching an empty plot of land he twirled the hoe and then raised it high. Despite the calm look on his face as he spoke when the tool came down and hit the ground it was less like 'tiling the field' and more like 'obliterating the field' as a plume of dirt shot skyward. Someone was clearly talking a better game than what they were thinking. Seeming to recognize his mistake he pushed the dirt into place with his boots and his next hit was far weaker, properly churning the soil beneath into a healthy mix.
In between strikes he sighed, “And she succeeded, she proved she had more in her. But now...now with every step she takes forward it takes her one step further away from me. And that...that breaks my heart.”, a long silence followed and it seemed for a moment he forgot he was even talking to someone, but without warning he picked the pieces up and pointed at Kubi while wielding an evil eye.
“Do you wanna break Rin's heart son?!”, he let the question hang seriously for a moment before his old smile came back and he laughed it off as a joke, there was a distinct air about the comment that said it had been meant one-hundred percent honestly though.
“Just remember Kubi. You can grow up, but don't force it. Don't grow up just because you think you need to. Let it happen in its own time, if you do that, if you take the morals and beliefs that Rin has taught you and let the maturity come naturally...then, and only then will you be someone worth being proud of their growth. Because otherwise, Rin is happy with you now, and if you truly respect that then you wouldn't go against her...”
Things had gotten all serious in the garden this day, and silence pervaded in the time after. Wind poured over them rustling the trees that sat in-and-around the division, the only other sound the rhythmic churning of dirt as Kang tilled soil. A nostalgic cherry-scent poured from his pipe, he smoked all the time but for some reason it seemed to fit best when he was showing his age and getting all philosophical. You just couldn't help but feel that he had maybe missed his calling in life as an old mountain hermit. But the silent reverie was interrupted when a female voice called out, “Kubi! Are you over here?”
In an instant Kang dropped the hoe and in a flash of movement Kubi was no longer holding his sake bottle. Kang stood over him and lifted the bottle high, downing the entire containers contents in an instant, at just that moment Rin came turning around the corner. Throwing the bottle to the ground he retrieved the second bottle as Rin walked up and stared at him incredulously.
Finishing that bottle he turned to her and stated happily, “Man! I am a RAGING alcoholic! No underage drinking over here, no mam, just a man who cannot get enough of the stuff! God I'm happy, are you happy, mam?”
Both their eyes fell to Kubi...and the half-empty bottle at his feet, Kangs eye twitched before he pointed and continued, “And yah know, that bottle? TOTALLY mine to, I. Cannot. Get. ENOUGH. Of the happy juice, I figure that bottle must have just grown legs and walked over there. Know what I'm saying? Course you don't because you are a pure, and virtuous leader who would never do that like me, because I am unclean and just a terrible person. But regardless, no young kids drinking alcohol over here, no sir, MMMM alcohol, nom nom nom.”
With his mouth wide open he shot Kubi a dual-pair of thumbs up, “Right Kubi? Right?...Corroborate the stoooory mannn.”
He shot smiles back and forth to each of them waiting for Kubis response while Rin continued to give him a blank slate look of “Stop being an idiot”.
But before it could play out any further someone was yelling, “Captain! Captaaaain~~~!!!”, heavy footfalls followed shortly after. One of 13th divisions lower ranking members came flying their direction, obviously being used as a go-to message delivery boy. At first everyone present had just turned their attention to the young shinigami but the general air of the situation was still positive. However soon their eyes fell on the red parcel he was carrying and all of them, including Kang immediately sobered, dropping the act completely. A red-letter day, a letter dictating the demise of a division member.
----------------
Darkness fell on the 13th Division headquarters, both literal and metaphorically. Night had come and with it a tense atmosphere of unease, supplemented by sorrow or anger depending on which you were more privy to. Around the central pavilion of the division a dozen glowing lanterns had been lit, their light illuminating the outside area. There were always lights to do this in the evening hours but those had been removed and these ceremonial ones had taken their place, the light they provided was far softer, giving a surreal unearthly glow. Set before the main buildings entrance a small shrine had been pulled out and the candles set upon it lit, a single white flower from Kang's garden had been situated in the middle; the implication obvious.
Thirty-minutes prior almost every active combat member of the division had been situated beneath the pavilion, though the mood had been no more rambunctious than it was now that it was empty. Sitting in silence they had listened as Rin explained, Sotoshi Daijiro the 7th Seat of the division had been found, or what was left of him. A gang in the Rukongai district sixty-five had been brazen enough to claim responsibility, the shinigami were no longer commanding the respect they once had, evil people in Rukongai who had once been kept down were taking note of the decreased ability.
Now they thought they could do whatever they wanted...they were wrong, retribution was coming.
In the main office of 13th Division where Rin and the other leaders had to perform their more mundane office activities there wasn't much going on except for the occasional shuffle of papers or scratching of pen. A nearby window lay open exposing the glowing pavilion outside, now empty of anyone, the glow of the ceremonial lanterns showering over a empty world. It was not empty for no reason though, every member present had left to the district in question, there would be no gang once this night was over. Only a few members remained on the premise, this included Kubi who was sitting near the window, and one of the top office workers Laurel Hanzel who was responsible for much of the divisions resource management...currently she was also acting as something of a babysitter for the brash Kubi.
She would occasionally say something to him just to be friendly, but mostly kept to herself, plus after being told he had to stay by Rin, Kubi was likely in no mood for small talk. And so, by the light of a nearby candle Laurel quietly scribbled on dozens of forms, the contents unknown but surely of importance to the behind-the-scenes stability of the division. The grounds were eerily silent even for nighttime, after all even those that had remained were in a somber mood.
Sotoshi was widely regarded as one of the most honorable and stalwart members of the division, he had made friends easily and was always kind, even if they weren't best friends nobody in the division had ever been at odds with him either. Being a shinigami meant knowing you might die at any time, but it was the indignant manner in which his death had been treated that caused this intense miasma of rage amongst the division. Shinigami were meant to die in battle against hollows, or in an honorable duel, not be found strung up on the side of a wall with a giant banner plastered across them taking credit like a game trophy.
Time was standing still with nothing to do when suddenly a pounding knock that sounded more like a sledgehammer than a hand slammed on the front door. The unexpected noise combined with how loud it was caused Laurel to jump out of her chair as it spilled backward on to the ground. However, seeming to realize what it was at the last moment she recomposed herself hastily and called out, “Come in!”
The door opened to the darkness beyond, only problem being there should have been light coming in from the lanterns. It took a moment to recognize that the cause of this was that the figure at the door was so massive they completely filled the door frame. With pounding footfalls the giant lowered himself through the opening and stepped out into the room, he wore a mask over the lower half of his face and the only obvious features were his pallor skin and piercing eyes. Without a word he retrieved a note from his coat which was embossed with the ninth division seal and with two massive footsteps was at the desk. His sheer size along with the always dreaded ninth divisions presence was enough to make the none-combatant Laurel shirk backward and emit a low pathetic whine.
Placing the note on the desk the man seemed to be looking at Laurel with disgust, anyone who knew the ninth divisions motto of power would understand why. Regardless he made no mention of this and instead spoke in an elongated hissing tone and anytime he made a punctuated remark plumes of grayish mist would escape the holes in his metallic mask, “This is a copy of information provided to 9th division by 2nd division, we've been ordered to provide it to you by the Commander General.”
He seemed genuinely annoyed that they were being forced to work with others, “Your man was spotted in District 77 last night, later witnesses reported a body being transported through the districts to sixty-five. We've traced them back to the building presented in this letter. As part of the Rukongai watch program ninth division is on the move in conjunction with twelfth, and sixth divisions, or at least those assigned to the watch program.”
A sickeningly thick plume of smoke escaped the mask as he chuckled, “In short your captain went after the wrong people. You'll report this to her, and tell her Captain Laetitia d-...requests...that she set up a perimeter net around District 77 to capture any would-be-escapist, we will handle the...procurement of the criminals. That is all.”
Without a word he turned around and walked off, gone through the door as fast as he had arrived. His tone, particularly toward the captain was inexcusable but not many would have had the gumption to talk back to him, least of all a pencil-pusher like Laurel. She had been on the verge of tears almost and the moment he was gone she let out the longest sigh in the world, it marked her as weak but it was understandable, it was difficult to be in the room with anyone from 9th division but especially those who seemed to prescribe to Laetitias way of thinking.
Once he had been gone for almost a minute Laurel picked up the letter, shuddering as she did so, then broke the seal and inspected the contents. Her imperceptible nod seemed to acknowledge that it said exactly what the deliverer had told them, she then placed it in a pouch strapped to her waist and looked to Kubi. Her face scrunched up into a furrow as if she was unsure of how to proceed, finally she walked over and bent down to his level, placing a hand on his shoulder.
She waved her other finger in his direction though not aggressively so, just as if to make a point, “This is important Kubi, lives and the divisions honor rests on this. I have to take this message to Rin so I'm going to leave you here. I'm trusting you Kubi, Rin would be sad if you disobeyed and left, and both us will be in trouble. Can I trust you to stay here and not try anything? This isn't a joke, lots of people could die...”
Once she got affirmation she backed off and nodded. She moved to the door, looked over her shoulder at Kubi once more, then walked out into the night. This left Kubi all alone in the silent office, Laurels footsteps quickly disappeared from audibility, leaving only wind and the slowly burning fires from the nearby lanterns. Of course all of that was unimportant, the real question was how long it took Kubi to throw caution to the wind and ignore the promise he just made.
Because...this story totally wouldn't be worth telling if he just sat around and put together jigsaw puzzles or something...you didn't really think that's what was going to happen did you?
