Blade without Edge/Chapter Six

Chapter Six Masked Intentions

Masked Intentions
Takashi was floating through darkness, and in his disembodied state he could hear shadowy voices echo around him. It felt as though he were submerged beneath the surface of some endless body of water. But he could not find reality, and continued to drift through his own subconsciousness.

“Shinigami,” someone, somewhere, whispered in a muted voice.

“...the wound here…”

“to be dealt with…”

“Shinigami…”

The disjointed conversation continued to throb in his mind, and he tried to find his way towards the distant voices. He was not dreaming, yet he could not force open his eyes. He could still see the imprint of Kishō, standing there with a crazed smile, his wild stare seeming to burn into his very soul.

And then, suddenly, the rushing around his ears stopped and he found himself lying on his back in an unfamiliar room, surrounded by three disjointed white masks. His eyes widened and he nearly started up, before a sharp pain in his side reminded him of his injury. The events that had led up flooded into his mind, and a sickening feeling gripped him by the stomach. Someone grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him back down onto his back, giving him some vague warning about “sudden movements,” and as he was still disoriented he decided to relent and lie still.

“Hōsōshi....” he thought aloud. The name slipped from his lips like a curse, and he felt the three other bodies in the room stiffen as they locked unseen eyes on him. But when he made no other sound they continued about whatever tasks they had busied themselves with, carrying bowls of water and blood-stained bandages out of the room.

As he listened to their soft footsteps he tried to gain a better sense of where he was. There was not much he could determine, however, aside from the dark, richly latticed ceiling above him and the diluted white light that permeated through the shōji to his right. Midday, he surmised. The place did seem more luxurious than anything he was used to. While minimalist, the features of the room were more upscale when compared to typical Seireitei housing, and he had only seen one other building in the Rukongai that had so prominently displayed its wealth.

“Where am I?” he asked, and his own voice seemed heavy and weak.

Since the moment that the Shinigami had arrived at the Hōsōshi compound, the outsider was never without a trusted “sword” of the second heir, who assured the safety of his superior. There were some who wished to end the life of the unconscious soul. Luckily, the swords of the heir were in time to stop the assassination, and ever since then, guarded the outsider under Kishō’s request.

The white diluted light created a horrendous shadow of the tall and sleek-appearing figure that sat quietly in the corner of the room. In the same fashion as the maidens before, he wore a mask that obscured the upper part of his face, only revealing the lower part such as his cheeks and mouth; which was in a thin line on top of each other. The mask had a roughly, jagged underpart that were shaped as teeth, while around the eye holes four simple triangles were drawn in old red ink. And, attached to the mask is the long, wild white hair that dashes down till his mid-back.

He only watched.

And finally, Noritaka felt a little more intrigued at hearing the voice of the Shinigami, who spoke the name of the Hōsōshi with such disrespect. One of the maiden glanced at him, at which he motioned them with a knick of his head to get out. They obeyed him silently, bowing in honour before they closed to shōji.

“Grounds… of the Hōsōshi,” Noritaka replied lowly to him.

Takashi turned his attention towards the man who had spoken. He had not noticed him before, and seeing his wild, long hair and half-mask, was reminded somewhat uncomfortably, of a demon.

“I see.” he murmured. He closed his eyes and raised his hand to the scar that ran between his eyebrows, stroking it absentmindedly in consternation. While he may have originally intended to try and enter the Hōsōshi’s estate in order to surreptitiously gain further information regarding the clan, he had most certainly not accounted for a situation like this. He wondered if he was considered guest or an enemy, where Kishō had gone, and most importantly, why the familiar presence of Kohaku was missing from his side.

Gingerly, and with some effort, he managed to sit up in order to get a better sense of his surroundings. He surveyed the room again before asking the man in the corner,

“Where is my Zanpakutō?” referring to the physical sword, although in reality he was more concerned about where Kohaku had disappeared to than anything else.

Noritaka effortlessly raised himself to his feet, surely towering over the other with a near two metres height. His steps were heavy as the Hōsōshi made his way to the Shinigami, crouching next to him, “You should stay down, Shinigami.”

A short pause before his next words, “Do not worry, I can assure you that the elders could not attain their hands on your Zanpakutō. It is in Kishō-dono’s hands.”

Elders? This only added further to his confusion. He considered asking the man to clarify, but decided against it. It would not do him much good to seem too curious.

“Where is he now?” he said instead.

The Hōsōshi leaned a little back, “I believe he should be resting in his chambers. The healers reported that aside of his injury, the lord has succumbed to exhaustion due various reasons. You likely know why.”

Noritaka turned away from Takashi. He changed the topic, even though the Shinigami could easily turn it back to their former conversation. “How do they call you, Shinigami?”

Takashi straightened up, finding a more comfortable position. “Takashi Sakuma,” he answered with a little more strength, and after a slight moment’s hesitation added: “Lieutenant of sixth division,” stating his rank as a simple courtesy. He pressed his hand distractedly against the dull ache in his side and wondered what the extent of the damage had truly been.

Much to his amusement, the Hōsōshi laughed lightly at the attempt of the Shinigami. "Sakuma, aya, just a warnin' but ya position means nothing here." He threw a sloppy smirk at Takashi, “Noritaka here.”

Takashi noted the man’s casual form of address, but was not offended by it. “Are you the one who brought me here?” he asked, hazarding a far-flung assumption.

“Kept ya alive even. Pretty deep stab, though the Lord made sure ya wouldn’t die with barriers.”

“How considerate of him,” he muttered darkly. He lapsed into silence, and spreading his hands out in front of him, stared down at his palms as if blaming them for something.

Noritaka's eyes narrowed darkly at Takashi, his voice going lower: "The Lord moved to aid you, ignoring his own grave injuries."

Takashi did not meet Noritaka’s gaze, and his hands clenched into fists as he said: “I should have…”

But he could not finish whatever he had meant to say.

“When will he be fully recovered?” he asked.

Noritaka showed no immediate reaction about Takashi’s words, “I don’t blame you, Sakuma. But… it does endanger your life here.”

He only gave a subtle hint about the protectiveness of the clan.

“His dominant arm is incapacitated for at least a month. There is no detail yet about a full recovery, it all depends on Kishō-dono.”

“I see.” is all Takashi said, and he did not seem pleased. I failed, he thought, again. He had known that something like this could have happened: that someone had been liable to get injured and yet he had ignored his own misgivings and Kohaku’s advice to forge on stubbornly, blindly. In the end, there was no one to blame but himself.

Afterall, it was not as though Kishō had exactly been himself.

He pondered over what he had seen, and his brow furrowed in thought. It seemed as though the closer he came to chipping away a piece of Kishō’s mask, the more quickly the truth slipped away from him. As Kohaku had more than once reminded him, he would need a clear mind unclouded by emotion in order to make any sense of the tangled mystery that lay before him.

And he doubted that the Hōsōshi themselves could be trusted.

There was a thick presence of animosity and suspicion that surrounded him, pressing against his chest and reminding him of how unwelcome he truly was. He did not sense the feeling as strongly with Noritaka, but still it was there. Watching him, leering at him.

But perhaps he was being paranoid.

Takashi was once again reminded of Kohaku’s unnatural absence and wished Noritaka would leave so he would be able to talk to her privately. It seemed as though the man did not plan on moving anytime soon, and Takashi realized that he had been placed there as a guard. He recalled the data he had uncovered in his previous investigations: how the Hōsōshi had distanced themselves from the Gotei and did not trust the Shinigami, and he doubted that he would be allowed to depart from the estate until Kishō was healed.

Damn it, he swore silently.

“Is it possible for me to speak with him now?” Takashi asked.

For a moment Noritaka turned away from Takashi, he rested a hand on his chin as he thought about it, “Possibly. Not sure if Kishō-dono would wanna face ya though.” Unlike the mentioned Hōsōshi, the one that guarded the Shinigami was a lot more open about his thoughts. “Besides, I’m gettin’ bored here.”

“Well if you’d be kind enough to lead the way, in that case,” Takashi said as he slowly got to his feet. He was eager to assure himself of Kishō’s condition: that he had not truly killed him as his subconscious dreaming had suggested, and perhaps Kishō would be more at ease if he saw him on his feet. But in reality, Takashi’s main concern was his Zanpakutō. He felt naked and helpless without it, and wanted it by his side as soon as possible. Especially since Kohaku was not with him.

When he tried to take a few steps, however, he was overcome by a wave of dizziness and was forced to stop and shift his balance. He hoped Noritaka had not noticed.

Even when the Hōsōshi wasn’t facing Takashi directly, his eyes were observing the Shinigami out of their corners. He just shifted his palm to lean more comfortably against it with his chin, “Oi, oi, ya fine Sakuma?” Noritaka nonchalantly muttered at Takashi as he saw the few mistaken steps.

“We could wait until later… unless ya insist.”

Takashi paused as if he were considering what Noritaka had suggested, but then quickly found his kosode and snapped it over his shoulders hastily.

“I’ll be fine.” he said brusquely.

The moment that Takashi replied, Noritaka smirked at him, “Be it your way.” He pushed himself up to easily tower the Shinigami, now much more obvious than before. With slow, large strides, the Hōsōshi gently shoved the shōji aside to be blinded by the brightness of the sunshine. “Better stay close to me, Sakuma.”

If Takashi had been unbalanced before, he was even more so at being so utterly dwarfed in the other’s presence. He did as Noritaka had suggested and followed him closely as they left the room and made their way through the Hōsōshi’s estate, struggling slightly to keep up with the man’s long stride.

Sometimes the tall man threw ominous looks at his clansmen that passed him by. They quickly scurried away as they were aware of his identity. Soon the buildings looked more ancient, larger and well-preserved the deeper they walked into the Hōsōshi compound. It became more traditional, with stone dog statues placed in different corners. Before, the people wore similar symbols on the back of the traditional clothing such as the kimono.

Rarely were there any people walking around now. Only a select few guards that were with Kishō’s ‘faction’ patrolled the paths.

“Ya should be honoured, Sakuma,” Noritaka told him gruffly. “Not even those guys from before may enter here.”

Noritaka halted for a few to let the Shinigami catch his breath.

It was one of the ancient, grandiose buildings of the Hōsōshi clan that had been gifted by Nobara to her younger brother a long time ago. Indeed, it also had stone dog statues next to the path near the entrance of the house. But the building separated itself in its white roof and the oak wood used in the trimming of its walls. However, Noritaka bypassed the particularly large entrance and went straight for one of the shōji that were on the side. After all, he knew were the midget had been placed to rest.

“He should be here.”

His hand went to clamp around the door rest of the shōji. “Yo, Kishō-dono,” he added the respectful honorific to the heir’s name. And while his eyes were hidden behind his mask, they certainly were shocked to find an empty bed. He scanned the room quickly, finding the two pair of Zanpakutō still resting against the walls: Takashi’s and Kishō’s daishō pair.

And, as his gaze returned to the bed, Noritaka surely could see drops of nearly dried blood on the floor.

It definitely worried him.

“That idiot of a Shō…” Takashi scanned the room and he too, seemed concerned. “Where… why did he leave?” he asked. But his eyes had fallen on his own Zanpakutō and he was distracted. It was only a few steps away, and he desperately wished he could hold it. Afterall, if Kishō had left it lying around then he only had himself to blame if it disappeared. Noritaka was there, however, and Takashi was not so unobservant to have missed the hostile glares from the other clan members they had passed by. The Aka no Tsume was, unfortunately, in the safest place it could be for the time being.

Noritaka immediately shut the shōji, blocking the sight of Takashi’s Zanpakutō.

“I need to find him,” the Hōsōshi turned around to face Takashi directly, watching the Shinigami more closely, “And you are coming with me.”

He took a deep sigh, “Out of all places, I think I know where he could be.”

“You seem to know him well,” Takashi said somewhat sullenly, recalling the familiarity with which Noritaka had referred to Kishō. “Where would that place be?”

Noritaka didn’t answer Takashi’s observation. He had other pressing matters at hand at the moment. “The dōjō is my only guess right now.”

It wasn’t surprising.

After all, it was one of the places that Kishō would retreat to in order to find peace with himself. “But he shouldn’t even be able to be up yet,” the tall Hōsōshi muttered under his breath.

“Let us head towards it, Sakuma...”



The dōjō was near the outer edge of the Hōsōshi estate, and as it stood apart from the surrounding buildings it was easy enough to find. The oak woodwork and tightly-fitted flagstone path that led to its entrance mimicked the theme of the rest of the manor, and as they approached Takashi could feel a faint trace of Kishō’s spiritual pressure coming from inside. He noticed the thick clouds brooding on the horizon, and that a brisk wind had started up since they had left to find Kishō just a short while before. He frowned. A storm seemed to be rolling in, and Kohaku was still out there, somewhere.

“Does he run off like this often?” he asked Noritaka, hoping the vassal of the Hōsōshi could explain some of Kishō’s more unpredictable tendencies.

There was a short silence coming from Noritaka, he was unable to find the words to explain the situation. So, the tall Hōsōshi laughed it off,

"You are mistaken, Sakuma," he started with a simple sentence. "In general, Kishō-dono is quite a fearful individual, but mores than that he has a very gentle heart." Noritaka slowed his pace down as he neared the dōjō.

"I fear that something must have pained him deeply. And if I must admit, I believe it partially involves you."

And why wouldn’t it? Takashi glowered inwardly, uneasy guilt nagging once more at the back of his mind.

“Yes, that would seem to be the case,” he said instead.

Noritaka quickened his steps as the dōjō’s shōji was in reach. He roughly shoved it aside, removing his waraji before nearly running through the hallway to find Kishō at the centre of the room. “Shō… Shō-chan,” the taller man added to get the attention of the noble. However, the elder Hōsōshi did not reply.

“It doesn’t seem as if he is gathering Reiatsu.” That would’ve been impossible with the irregular level of Kishō’s Reiatsu at the moment. “... thankfully.” His eyes, however, returned to the specks of blood that formed a trail to the door, and was evidently still spreading on the white kimono.

“So he is meditating again,” Takashi commented as he struggled with his sandals at the doorstep. He joined Noritaka in the center of the room and stared at the unresponsive heir to the Hōsōshi, immediately noticing the blood seeping from Kishō’s bandaged shoulder.

“Seems his wound reopened,” he stated without much emotion. He acted as though he were going to approach Kishō in order to use kaidō to stop the bleeding, but hesitated.

Noritaka remained quiet on that subject, only watching Takashi’s movement closely. Even though he knew he could, most likely, trust the Shinigami, the Hōsōshi still wanted to assure he didn’t pull anything with Kishō. “Indeed. It should be stopped first, before I force him out of his meditation.”

“Are you sure that would be safe?” Takashi asked as he began the healing process, the glow of the Kidō reflecting on the faces of those in the dōjō.

“It is.” Noritaka calmly replied, before he took a few steps closer to the Shinigami. “One of our clan’s spells. And, well… technically, it is only safe if the caster and recipient trust each other equally.”

At first Takashi made no reply as he concentrated on his task. “He trusts you?” he asked after considering what Noritaka had said.

He felt slightly offended at that. “What makes you think he wouldn’t?” Noritaka retorted. However, the taller Hōsōshi moved in front his heir, and crunched down. His left hand raised up to frumble with the edge of the mask, getting a good grip on it and lifted it up from his face. Now, Noritaka revealed the golden eyes with similar pupils as Kishō’s that hid beneath the mask, the skin around marked with a reddish warpaint. And, the most unexpected part was that he in actuality had short blue hair.

Takashi tried not to stare, but he could not help but notice the similarities between Kishō and Noritake. But he did not comment on his observation as he was focused on finishing the Kaidō.

“There,” he said after several minutes had passed. “That should work for now.” He noted that he felt slightly drained after using his spirit energy to supply the spell. Takashi had to remind himself that he too was still recovering: he would have to be more cautious in the future.

Noticing that Takashi was done with Kaidō, Noritaka immediately concentrated an amount of Reiatsu to the tip of his index finger. He pressed his index and middle fingers into the center of Kishō’s forehead, making it seem as if the taller Hōsōshi were going to flick it, however the contact remained. Noritaka took a deep breath, as if synchronising with that of Kishō’s, before the white aura of the Kidō expanded. In response, the Hōsōshi also closed his eyes, and started to enter the “consciousness” of the other.

It was a moment of silence in both the mind and the dōjō.

Shō, Noritaka called out as if that was enough to pull the heir out of his ‘dream’. And as Kishō was currently fragile, the strength of the spell should be enough to forcefully bring him back to reality. After all, he was only in a fabricated world created around him to bring himself into safety from the cruel world.

Noritaka pulled his fingers away from Kishō’s forehead. “Shō,” he quietly voiced to the heir, who, finally opened his eyes. The gaze of Kishō felt as if he was still in a certain daze, and Noritaka could see the other slowly come back to reality. His other hand, the one that mirrored Kishō’s unharmed shoulder, was placed on it and the taller Hōsōshi greeted him, “Welcome back, brother.”

The heterochromatic eyes met the golden pair of Noritaka’s. “Noritaka,” Kishō responded in a more polite tone. He flinched slightly as the after-effect of the pain resonated within him. “Why are you here?” It was a stupid question, but he felt the need to ask him. After all, he believed that he could have remained in peace here, as he had tried in the Sixth Division.

“Yar an idiot, ya know that,” Noritaka bluntly said. It was obvious that he was disrespectful to someone superior, apparently, that didn’t matter to them. “Yar Shinigami wanted to see ya, so I brought him around… and I believe the little heir was contained to his bed.” He emphasised on a certain word that irked the older Hōsōshi to no end.

His response was a mere click of his tongue. Stubborn as Kishō sometimes could be, he turned his face away from Noritaka and didn’t reply. He didn’t feel the need to, nor did Kishō feel comfortable with the presence of his lieutenant. “Did anyone cause problems,” he only asked, concerned as he knew that outsiders weren’t that welcome in their family.

Noritaka was about to open his mouth to reply, but remained quiet. It seemed that he knew Kishō wouldn’t answer him truthfully or even listen to his words. But, reluctantly, he did reply, “No... I will inform you later about other circumstances.”

Takashi’s eyes narrowed as he observed the exchange between superior and subordinate. He was not one to judge, but their relationship did seem unusually close. His suspicion was mainly aroused, however, by Noritaka’s last comment. He wondered what the man had meant, and if he had been referring to him.

“Forgive me for disturbing you, Hōsōshi-san,” Takashi began, and his voice was more subdued than usual, “I intended to determine the extent of the damage my injuring you had caused, and... I had hoped it had been less severe than this.”

Kishō still didn’t dare to face Takashi. “Do not worry, Sakuma-fukutaichō. As I mentioned before, I have clan duties to fulfil and Noritaka aids me in this.” He tried to fumble with his sleeve with his dominant hand, only to realise that he couldn’t move it as he wanted. His eyes furrowed, remembering that it was injured by the lieutenant that was close to him. “As for that… as you can see, my dominant arm is currently incapacitated.”

The taller Hōsōshi narrowed his eyes at the behaviour of the small heir. “That’s why ya should not be here, Shō-chan.”

“Hōsōshi-san,” Takashi asked solemnly, “Can you tell me what happened back in Akakusa, if you remember at all.” While he had a fairly accurate guess of his own as to what had occurred, he was testing Kishō: He wanted to hear him say it for himself. Takashi looked at the other Shinigami directly and added, “Who was it that attacked me?”

Kishō choked on his next breath as Takashi asked him this. In response, his brother narrowed his eyes on him, as if he knew what the lieutenant was on about. “It… it was them.” He just kept quite vague about it, initially. “My Zanpakutō, Hiroseike.” Yet, it wasn’t the entire truth of what he had said, as both he and Noritaka knew more about one of the soul’s nature.

“Shō,” Noritaka lowly growled, more at the fact that both suffered injuries because of the relationship complication between Zanpakutō and Kishō. “So that is how Sakuma and you got in this mess.”

The Hōsōshi didn’t respond.

“Leave us, Noritaka.” Kishō suddenly coldly commanded. “I will notify you when Sakuma-san and I are finished here.”

At first Noritaka was quite stunned at the cold behaviour of Kishō. But perhaps that was his own fault. “Fine. I’ll be outside.”

Takashi frowned when he heard Kishō’s command. It had been completely unexpected, and while he was grateful for the privacy it would afford the two of them it only served to leave more unanswered questions in his mind. He waited until Noritake had left, but for a long moment remained silent, as if trying to muster the strength to say what was on his mind.

It was undoubtedly evident to Kishō that without either Kohaku or his Zanpakutō at his side, he seemed weary, more strained and serious than usual.

“I… don’t blame you if you never trust me again,” Takashi began, “I had…” he trailed off, unable to finish. Tired of the deception, the lies that had nearly woven his own noose, Takashi wanted more than anything to tell Kishō the truth. But still he could not bring himself to do it. In his eyes Kishō was still a murderer: responsible for the death of a sixth division Shinigami. His hands clenched at his sides, and the sudden bitterness that had returned to him cut off his words completely.

Finally, Kishō turned his sitting position to face Takashi. There was a certain emptiness in his vibrant eyes. “It matters no more to me, Sakuma-fukutaichō,” a tone that sounded even colder than when he spoke to Noritaka. And yet, the Hōsōshi forced on a smile, “After all, you share the same eyes as theirs, which tells me enough already.”

Takashi felt a chill run down the length of his spine, and he drew back instinctively. There was something uncanny about the thin smile across Kishō’s pale face, and he was now not entirely sure that the insidious Reiatsu he had detected from before had been from the Shinigami as opposed to the Zanpakutō. Still, he refused to be unnerved by Kishō, and his expression hardened as he said:

“I can make no excuse, if that is what you meant. Once again I have failed to uphold my duties as a lieutenant,” he paused, but only for a moment as his voice continued to grow stronger, “However, you have made things increasingly difficult. For one, you were never given the right to take direct action against or otherwise harm citizens of the Rukongai, regardless of whether they were criminal or not. It is our responsibility to protect the souls we serve as Shinigami, not to cut them down. Furthermore, your continual refusal to follow my directions thus far has served as a severe setback, and is in fact itself barely short of insubordination.” Takashi stopped, as if suddenly becoming aware of himself, and looked away from Kishō. He crossed his arms across his chest and sighed. “I will have to write Captain Kuchiki for an extended leave of absence.” he muttered to himself.

While Kishō retained the façade, there played a distinctive emotion in those heterochromatic eyes. A leak that could expose the truth behind his current cold and detached behaviour. And so, the Hōsōshi presented his aristocracy side even more, as he began to retort boldly against Takashi:

“First and foremost, I, as the heir of the Hōsōshi Clan, would never harm any soul purposely. If you did not realise yet, my family is one of the direct subordinates of the Soul King, and all of those that reside within Soul Society are those who we must protect in the name of Him.” Kishō paused shortly, his eyes piercing deeper into Takashi’s, as if uncovering the deepest layers that the Shinigami hid away. “Secondly, I only intended to perform Kidō to halt the actions of these ‘gangsters’,” he did not seek the words as the heir continued, “however, their synchronised movements and ability to undo my illusion tells me that these commoners are not your average individuals. As such, my actions were rendered useless and as a consequence I do not recall the events after.”

Deep within Kishō did understand where Takashi was coming from. He refused to accept it as his current act displayed another side of him. There was an escalated breath with a sense of arrogance in it, and he calmly replied to the lieutenant this time:

“I am aware that I have been insubordinate to you, Sakuma-fukutaichō. However, I have my own reasons that you have refused to acknowledge. These have been evident in past and recent events.” He shrunk his eyes to ‘look down on Takashi’, “And yet, I shall repeat that your eyes have spoken to me already. As such, I request that you relieve yourself as my supervisor immediately as I shall retire as a Shinigami in active duty.”

But the Hōsōshi wasn’t finished. And as he closed his eyes completely, he spoke in a firm voice: “You are expected to leave tomorrow morning. I will see to it that you shall be escorted back to Seireitei by Noritaka and another one of mine. Do not worry about administrational matters… these will be handled by my elders.”

Takashi considered what Kishō had said, taking it all in silence. He had two options at that point: to respond to the grave offense that had just been committed against him or to obey the wanton command of a rebellious subordinate. He could do neither.

“If that is what you truly wish,” Takashi said slowly, “I will depart for the Seireitei at dawn. I will, however, return shortly, with a squadron for your arrest.” he spoke evenly, but inwardly his heart was pounding in his ears, and there was an acidic burning in the pit of his stomach as he continued to tread deeper into the lie, “It seems you are unaware of the alarm your recent actions have aroused in the Gotei. As you may or may not have aptly surmised, the true purpose of this training was not meant to improve your skills… it was to prove whether or not you were a murderer.”

Takashi let his words sink in for a moment before continuing. “So far you have done nothing to abate these suspicions... In other words, you have failed to convince me, Kishō Hōsōshi.”

Silence.

Right then it seemed as if Kishō was taken aback by the words of Takashi. After all, his eyes had snapped open to fixate them on the Shinigami, and while there was a dull fear in them, the Hōsōshi actually observed the expression of the other. And as he continued to retaliate what Kishō had said to him, something loosened within him. Something that he had tried to hide away for centuries.

It was broken now.

His uninjured arm lifted up. His hand was slowly placed on his face in order to hide most of his facial expression. And while those vibrant pair of different eyes were shadowed, it didn’t hide the fact that Kishō’s gaze had clouded in an unknown emotion. It was something far beyond the crazed bloodlust he showed when possessed by the Zanpakutō. This, in fact, would express his sorrow and grief that he shouldered himself.

Yet, the thin smile that he wore briefly ago had curved into a sinister smirk. And in that instance, Kishō’s body began to tremble all too slightly, as he chortled that started to sound like a form of madness. It slowly tuned to a laughter that was fueled by his emotions, such as anger, despair and a hint of cruelty.

It felt as if minutes passed by. Enough for the tall Hōsōshi to enter the dōjō, as he had heard that sinister laugh of whom the source was Kishō. He did not speak, Noritaka was stunned for words to see the heir in such state.

And finally, Kishō slightly calmed down. His tears had rolled down his cheeks, as it came from the laughter, at least, that is what the other Hōsōshi assumed. Using his hand, the heir swept his tears finally away as he spoke, “Me? A murderer?”

His eyes were still exposing his true emotions at this moment: pain was evident in them. “I thought of you as a better person, Shinigami. After all… I expected this for a time already.” Kishō continued to speak, his voice returning to the similar coldness. “But I can assure you that your threats will be unsuccessful.” Kishō allowed a moment of breath for himself, the tone the same yet far more serious: “As such, I will still be kind to you: Takashi Sakuma, I will not redeem myself as I’ve done no such wrongness. Yet, you dare to threaten me on my ground. I will forgive you for that alone. You will be allowed to attend the feast tonight. However, you will leave immediately at dawn together with two of my most trusted.”

Takashi wanted to protest, as it was a complete disregard for proper protocol on Kishō’s part, but with Noritaka there he was reminded of how little his authority— and by extension the authority of the Gotei— meant to the Hōsōshi.

More pressing, however, was Kishō’s sudden catatonic state. He had not expected him to lash out with such violent emotion. It was not exactly a sane reaction, and only served to unnerve Takashi further. Somewhat shocked, he was unable to make much of a response. “Very well,” he mumbled.

“Good.” Kishō simply replied. There was a moment of struggle to get back on his feet, when he did, the heir took a couple of steps towards the entrance of the room. He had yet to acknowledge the presence of Noritaka. “I will accept your advice, Noritaka-san.” Eyes smoldered at the taller Hōsōshi suddenly, “Please see to it that our guest will be treated rightfully.”

Kishō did not utter another word. He just continued to walk forward with a more powerful aura than before.

“T-that was not Shō. I mean, it was him, but… yet it wasn’t,” Noritaka finally managed to speak. “Sakuma… please, tell me what happened?”

Takashi cupped his hand around his chin and considered Noritaka’s request. Was this an elaborate trap to see whether or not the Hōsōshi could allow him to live? He had no reason to trust Noritaka, and yet he knew that his chance to find out anything at all was rapidly slipping away from him unless he somehow managed to find his way back into Kishō’s good graces.

“To tell you that I would have to go back to the first time I noticed something was amiss with Hōsōshi,” Takashi began. He told Noritaka of the original mission, Kishō’s strange actions and finally the incident in Akakusa. He did not, however, mention Wakiya’s death to the man, and was largely impersonal and matter-of-fact in relaying the information, hoping Noritaka would not question him further on the matter. After he had finished speaking, however, there was a guilty feeling that burned in the pit of his stomach, and he was once more sickened by his own dishonesty. It might serve to endanger his entire reason for being there in the first place, but Takashi decided to tell Noritaka the truth.

“There… is one more thing,” he added gravely, “It was not that he failed to properly use his Zanpakutō during the mission, as he did indeed draw it… but,” Takashi faltered as he searched for a softer way to broach the subject, at last giving up the futile attempt as he stated bluntly: “He killed one of his own comrades, a fellow Shinigami of the Sixth Division.”

For a moment, Noritaka stroke his chin and was silent after the Shinigami finished. There was no change in his expression. But deep within, the Hōsōshi was ashamed of himself, as he was unable to understand the turmoil of his brother. Yet, he should’ve known that Kishō was that type of person that could easily fool those around him, and keep up all that hurt him to himself.

He could merely sigh at this fact. And, taking a deep breath, Noritaka spoke in a more serious tone:

“While I believe that Kishō is at his wrongs, I can ensure you that these actions aren’t his doing. Even I, one of the closest to him, have troubles to see through his façades. So… I doubt none of you Shinigami could’ve figured his, well, mental instability.” Noritaka eyed Takashi down, perhaps a hint of disappointment. “It is something that he isn’t aware of, I can assure that. He functions normally as long as there hasn’t been anything similar the past occasions. As you said, he killed a comrade. But I know Shō too well for that.”

Noritaka remained quiet for merits longer. It wasn’t something that he wanted to admit.

“He is suicidal, as in, Shō would rather sacrifice himself to save others.”

Takashi eyed Noritaka incredulously, “I can’t say that is easy for me to believe,” he said, “But if what you say is true then it would explain many unanswered questions. I have noticed that when he becomes agitated his Reiatsu seems to take on the properties of his own Zanpakutō… and I can tell you for certain that the man who injured me in Akakusa was not the same Hōsōshi who serves as a Shinigami in the Sixth Division.” The two men seemed to consider this in silence for a moment.

“There is one thing I would like to know, Noritaka-san,” Takashi said, “Many years ago Hōsōshi served with the ninth. From that division’s archives I gathered that a similar incident had occurred there as well, resulting in his extended hiatus from active duty. Tell me, did he act the same way then as well?”

Noritaka shifted his weight. “I will admit Sakuma, but back then I was a teenager and Shō was someone I very much looked up to. He was and still is the pride of our clan. Someone kind-hearted to his people, talented and determined. Of course, Shō has his flaws, but he was far from what he may seem to be now.” His tone became slightly lighter, as he wore a brief saddening smile. “I don’t know much from before that. But I know that he has heavy burdens on his shoulders, especially as the heir that should’ve become the current clan leader. He did not… as the aura he once possessed had slowly disappeared after the Shinigami incident. And, so, after that I had been selected to become one of his guards. It’s what I still am.”

He spoke once more. “What I had hoped for all that time then was that Shō would’ve taught me Kenjutsu. Obviously, he refused my request. That has been like that ever since he returned from the Shinigami incident.”

“Then… what happened?” Takashi mused aloud.

“I could ask you the same, Sakuma. After all, you did tell me about Akakusa and you agreed that it didn’t feel like Shō.”

“Hmm, I assume that means the only one who knows… is Hōsōshi himself.”

Noritaka sighed again. “He doesn’t know it.” He clicked his tongue in a slight annoyance, “Shō only mentioned that his Zanpakutō called out to him. It said it had the power to protect him. He passed out immediately after it awakened and they found him unconscious according to him.”

“Still,” Takashi said, his tone dark, “That does not excuse what has been done. There is blood on Hōsōshi’s hands, and if this is brought to light, a price will be on his head as well. That is, unless something can first be done.”

Golden eyes smoldered darkly at Takashi for such a threat. At least, that’s how the Hōsōshi perceived it as. “I’ll allow none to do such action. Without hesitation I’ll assure that they will no longer live. Even if it would be you, Sakuma.”

“Then you would simply bring calamity down upon the entirety of your clan,” Takashi smiled, although his hand instinctively reached for the Zanpakutō that was not there. “That is to say, it would be prudent to exercise caution. Both to avoid arousing unwanted attention from the Gotei, or damaging Hōsōshi beyond what hurt has already been done.”

Noritaka let out a slight frustrated growl underneath his breath. “I won’t let anyone hurt Shō.” He said it firm and powerfully. “Even if it means the demise of the clan. But why should I trust you, Shinigami?”

“I never asked you to trust me.” Takashi said, and while he continued with a quiet confidence, without hubris, “Whether you decide to place your confidence in me or not, I am nothing but a lieutenant of the sixth division. It is my duty to ensure the safety of my subordinates, regardless of their social status or mental condition.”

“I’mma going to be ashamed of myself,” the Hōsōshi muttered lowly, almost inaudible. His hand covered one eye, releasing a deep sigh. “Basically, what you’re saying is… is that you want to help Shō?”

Takashi was completely taken aback by the question.

Help him? The idea was outrageous. Kishō was a murderer, of that Takashi was certain. But the Gotei 13 was full of murderers. Any who called himself a Shinigami was responsible for taking lives of how many countless souls. None were innocent. So who was he to judge? Takashi had killed before. It had been the inevitable outcome of wielding a sword. And forgiveness?

Without forgiveness they were all nothing more than the soulless Hollows they sought to exterminate.

Kohaku would have told him so. And it had been Rue who had first shown him the meaning of the word…

Help him?

He had been trying to do that all along. Only now did he realize it, even though he still refused to acknowledge it.

“I don’t think I can help him,” Takashi said, “Not now, at least.” And his shoulders seemed to slump with resignation.

Noritaka shifted his weight again, but he sank a little through his knees in order to stretch his hand out towards the Shinigami. “This will do, Sakuma. I mean, if the little one truly wanted you gone, he would’ve ordered us to remove you from the grounds asap.” His tone was of something light and pure amusement, with a little smirk at the end of it.

“Besides… I think I haven’t introduced myself properly yet. Noritaka Hōsōshi, distant cous’ of Shō-chan. Still he’s the top of the league, one of the purest ya see.”

Takashi could not help but gape at Noritaka, amazed that he was in fact directly related to Kishō. He had assumed the man had been nothing more than an elite bodyguard tasked with looking after the Hōsōshi. And while the two had seemed close, they were still so different in both stature and mannerisms that Takashi still found it hard to believe.

“I don’t understand,” Takashi frowned, “What is it that you expect from me?”

“Hmm? Didn’t ya say that it’s up to me whether or not I put my confidence in ya?” His other hand hovered over the Shinigami’s head, before he ruffled it. “During the feast… you can request a meeting with him for ‘official business’. He can’t refuse it. And, you should use that moment to get through to him.”

Takashi stiffened when Noritaka patted him on the head, and his eyes widened with shock. The entire atmosphere inside the doujou changed, becoming heavy with Reiatsu as Takashi unwillingly made clear the fact that he was extremely uncomfortable with Noritaka’s casual treatment.

“Yes, I am sure that will go over smoothly.” he managed to say through his gritted teeth.

Noritaka merely removed his hand away from Takashi. “My, my, such a scary Shinigami. At least you didn’t swat my hand away like the little heir.” But the amusement drained away from his tone at the near end. “Sorry Sakuma, I just wanted to ease things up. We both need to be at ease, and I know this wasn’t the right thing, but expect worse once we head out of the dōjō.”

Takashi sighed and forced himself to relax. “No, I should be the one apologizing. You simply reminded me of someone.” he said, already feeling his head throb behind his eyes. He rubbed the scar on his forehead as if that would help to relieve the pressure. “Norita— Hōsōshi-san, since you seem to be quite familiar with him, you might know, but what is the best way to reach out to him?”

“Sakuma, call me Noritaka.” That is what he said the first second that he could reply to the Shinigami. “Loosen up a little. And well, you and him are in quite a bad spot, not even I know how to fix that. So, uhh, I’d apologise about any faults you have with him and he should return his with honesty.”

Takashi eyed Noritaka evenly. “If only I could hope for it to be so easy,” he said, knowing full well the difficulty such a prospect would entail.