The Withered Branch

The sky above the Seireitei, split into eight crystalline shards marked by glowing cracks of dimensional space, slowly stitched itself back together. There was a low, reverberating boom as its canvas once more became whole, and for a moment afterwards the only sound that could be heard was the calm rhythm of the rain falling on the Sougyoku. Hein imagined it had been a sight to see. The captain of the seventh division remained balanced on the hilt of his Zanpakutou, crouching as if he needed a higher seat to get a better picture of the battlefield. He quietly considered the remains of the head captain, as though he were a crow perched above a carcass. It was ironic. Given any other situation, he would have relished the opportunity to witness the Gotei 13 brought so low. He himself had been a long-time enemy of the Shinigami, and likely would have taken advantage of the situation to strike back at the ones who had despised him for so long. But under the current circumstances, there was nothing to celebrate. He felt as though the balance of the world’s power had simply shifted from the hands of one power-drunk megalomaniac to another, and an altogether too familiar sense of anger and helplessness began to well up within him. Whatever his personal thoughts may have been, the only sign of his turmoil was the fact that his expression was still grim, lacking his characteristic grin as he stepped down to the pavement and slung his sword over his shoulder. For a moment, he paused and rubbed the smooth threads of the tachi’s hilt, considering the irony of the Coven’s threat to destroy all Zanpakutou. Had they made the same proposition years earlier, he would have gladly handed over the sword, but now it was a thorn permanently imbedded in his side.

He imagined it would be an inconvenience, at any rate.

Hein faced the mage who had been left behind, tucking one arm into the fold of his haori as he waited for the enemy to address them. Aside from the captain of the 12th division, last seen standing between the Coven and the Gotei 13, the arena had been stripped bare of Shinigami. Typically, Hein avoided the landmine known as Jaromira Dragan, but this time he turned to her, hoping she was intending to execute some plan of action that would allow him to slip away in the maelstrom. But when she did not immediately react to the apparent teleportation of their comrades, Hein began to grow anxious. However, he was more concerned that any possible distraction that would have allowed him to slip away unnoticed was now removed, as he could have cared less about the disappearance of his fellow captains.

“So,” he finally began, breaking the silence between him and Jaromira. “Are ya gonna say something, obahan?”

“Oh, you’re still here?”, the Captain of the Twelfth replied, a twinge of surprise to her tone. She hadn’t noticed any of the other Shinigami had been present, freely casting them out of her mind the moment she assumed they were thrown to the four winds. A pity, she thought, that she had been left with the firebrand of all things. She had been content there, pondering over thoughts of her wayward child and the message the Coven had broadcasted through their potent magic.

“Its an offer most tempting, what say you, firebrand? That we see how far the Coven’s hospitality extends?”, it was rare that she included anyone in her plans, free to do as she pleased, but for once, she cast out an olive branch. Perhaps this one would be smart enough to accept.

“Sure, terrible generous,” he growled, “If ya don’t mind takin’ the bottom position. Way I see it, we ain’t got much choice, or such-and-such.” While Hein was certainly far from the most intelligent captain in the Gotei 13, he knew how to survive, and he was not about to blindly waltz into the Coven’s offer. He was intimately familiar with the power a spellcaster could wield over those they enthralled, and the statue of Kyouraku stood as a testament to back his convictions. “And it isn’t that I love the Gotei 13… but there ain’t any way to guarantee that those gaudy excuses for fruit stands won’t turn us into something like the old man over there,” he said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of Shunsui’s remains. Still, while it may not have seemed like Hein was being careful about what he said, he framed his words carefully, and his tone suggested that he was considering Jaromira’s suggestion, even though he had no such intentions.

“Hmph!”, Jaromira scoffed at the very idea. “So long as your little rat-fire burns, I can bring you back from the brink of anything they’d do to you”, she explained, taking Hein’s worries as if they were a slight against her talents. Of course, she wasn’t known for being generous so it was obvious to see where his caution came from, though she’d take offense regardless, as was her want.

“Our dear Captain-Commander gave up, as such there is nothing left for him but reincarnation. But you, my dear firebrand, I imagine, would prefer a life long-lived”, she made assumptions of course, but it was all in service to her worldview. She didn’t so much analyse Hein or anyone else but take stock of what she saw and painted her own picture of them, true or not, it was how she saw them.

“If you doubt my skill, then do as you please”, she offered, turning away in the direction of the Seireitei. “If not, then come along, I assure you-”, she spoke confident as she began her stride, not even taking heed of the other presence around them. “-the wings of Jaromira are wide enough to safeguard many more than you”.

“Ha,” Hein chuckled, “While I appreciate the offer obahan, I ain’t exactly convinced. Not that I doubt yer, uh, wings... but I learned a long time ago that the only person you can really trust in this pathetic excuse for existence is yourself…” Hein paused as he turned his face towards the sky, apparently contemplating the rain. “Leastways, ain’t much of life when ya’re livin’ on someone else’s terms,” he said more softly.