Rosuto's New Job?

This article, , is a short one-shot featuring some of the history of Rosuto Shiba and Akira Nakamura; with the former as the point-of-view character.

It was almost a perfect day: the sun was shining, there was a pleasantly cool breeze blowing to counteract the heat and to top it all off there was a carnival in town. What stopped it being perfect was the dirty-blonde-haired Shinigami trailing Rosuto’s every move; who thought the bushes sufficient cover. He didn’t think he saw him but you’d have to be blind not to. Eventually Rosuto lost the rag.

“Hey! Dip-stick! Yeah, you, the guy whose ass I kicked; get out here!”

Silence greeted his outburst which was followed shortly thereafter by muffled cursing which came from the bushes. Rosuto could only sigh. He still wanted to pretend he wasn’t there? Okay, if that was how he wanted to play things… Rosuto Dastan Shiba could play that game like a bloody pro. He drew his Zanpakutō.

“You have to the count of five before I start throwing pointy things; one, two, three. Oh, to hell with it. Five!”

What happened next was probably one of Rosuto’s happier moments since he went into exile. He hurled his Zanpakutō into the bushes with such speed the poor fellow could barely register the fact! Taiyōsōbi cut through bushes like a hot knife through butter before embedding itself in the ground between the poor sods legs; an inch higher he’d have lost his entire package.

“Before you give birth to a stone,” Rosuto began, retrieving his Zanpakutō, “know that I hate people spying on me.”

“… Noted,” the man replied, with a gulp.

“I didn’t get your name.”

“Akira Nakamura.”

“Rosuto Shiba.” He hauled Akira to his feet. “You’re pathetic. Cowering like some child. Believe me, if I had wanted to, I could’ve unmanned you without looking.”

“… You said that you’re a Captain in the Gotei 13.” Akira said, getting right to the point.

“I used to be.” Rosuto corrected. “Now I’m merely an exile without a job or duty.”

Kagura had certainly seen to that. Rosuto would be lucky if he could ever show his face in the Seireitei again without having an entire army of Shinigami called down on his head. Not that an army would do a big lot of harm to him. If the stronger Captains, like Yamamoto or Unohana acted, however, then it was a different matter. No. It was best that he stay away for now.

“Do you want a job?” Akira asked, looking thoroughly sickened.

“You’re offering me a job?” Rosuto exclaimed. “Why?”

“Because, for whatever reason, Her Majesty thinks your power is wasted doing nothing.”

“You mean Kaede?” Akira punched him. “If you do that again you’ll lose feeling in that hand for a while.”

Akira harrumphed. “What’s your answer?”

Rosuto rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Tell Kaede-”

Rosuto took hold of Akira’s flying hand mid-motion and promptly applied some pressure! He heard an audible “snap” before he let go; prompting Akira to reach for his Zanpakutō with his good hand. Rosuto merely arched an eyebrow; he still had his own Zanpakutō drawn. But the crowds where starting to take notice. And he’d already fallen out with the Jōren twice for “disturbing the peace” or some such nonsense. Apparently pissing over the side of a peer was an offense to the public.

“I applaud your spirit.” Rosuto said with his arms crossed. “But if you draw that Zanpakutō I won’t stop at your hand; I’ll break your neck.”

The sudden increase in heat signalled Rosuto’s seriousness. His entire demeanour changed; like a switch had just been pressed. A mask momentarily appeared on his face but was quickly dispelled but in that brief moment Akira realized just how vast the differences in their strength were. Rosuto was a bloody demon! Left quivering where he stood Akira only watched as Rosuto flash stepped away…

End.

Next Story > Kaede's Inspection.