The War of Four: Aftermath

A Moment of Rest, A Life of Peace
Only a couple of months had passed since the war with the Inner Circle, and Empresa seemed to have gone back to it's every day routine. A true testament to the technological capabilities of the Gotei 13's Research Division, the damage done by Aizen's forces had all but been completely rectified within just a couple of hours.

No one could be more happy for this than Coyote Starrk.

He lay calmly asleep on a bed in the Primera's quarters, his shoes on the floor beside it. Aside from the apparent memory loss that he had suffered while battling with Aizen, he appeared to have not changed in the slightest. For some this might be an annoyance, but surely for most, it couldn't have been any more preferable.

At the very least, the Primera herself was glad he could find the ability to rest.

Prior to this particular moment, she and her parents had to deal with unrest due to the monarch trio's sudden absence from Hueco Mundo. She, in particular, made a sincere apology announcement to the residents of the neighboring cities who had to deal with Aizen's forces by themselves, congratulated them for surviving and made a vow to never leave the side of her people again. It would put a damper on the next time the Soul Society wanted to pull an evacuation of Empresa. But she would gladly take that chance.

Over the couple of months, Casilda and Starrk had interacted with each other more closely. It had taken a while for them to get around. But eventually, they had gotten closer to one another. Eventually, the item that was the current Primera and the former Primera was quick to spread in the higher ranks. Although everyone kept quiet about it, the Espada didn't seem too keen on letting Casilda be. Nicolao teased her about it on occasion, Bernabe grumbled about her being unable to focus on her duties due to being distracted by the "lazy hobo", and Loly made it a necessity to taunt her with rather lewd jokes. Still, they tolerated the new relationship to varying degrees and didn't mind Starrk's influence.

In the last few weeks, however, the two had allowed themselves to become intimate as of recent... and in the recent days, Casilda had begun to show signs. Firstly, there was the fatigue, which wasn't helped by the amount of work she had to tend to. It got to the point where she had both Findorr and Bernabe take over active positions of leadership so that she could rest properly. Secondly, there were moments in where she found herself nauseous and even throwing up, and it wasn't uncommon for her to abruptly leave a meeting just so that she could relieve her stomach. When her subordinate heard of this, he insisted that she rest herself in the belief that there was some sort of illness. Even Casilda hadn't completely had an idea of what was happening just yet. But she was patient. She could wait it out until she got an opportunity to visit the doctors.

In the meantime, she would spend her time with Starrk.

"Note to self... don't do paperwork when you're about to collapse..." She muttered, walking quietly into her room. She was in her own sleep attire: a set of white floral pajamas designed with a subtle flair of elegance. As her bare feet treaded the floor, she took note of Starrk's sleeping form. Up to this point, she had been envying his ability to find sleep even in circumstances of recovery. But now, her road was clear and it was time for her to join him. A small smile crossed her face as she approached, and she resisted the urge to chuckle when she saw him roll on his side. He was such a heavy sleeper when he wanted to be, and like her, it was nearly impossible to wake him. It was a perfect scene for what she would do.

When she was close enough, she climbed onto the bed and lowered herself close. With the stealth and precision of a ninja, she slid herself underneath an arm with just enough contact to get his (unfocused) attention. Then, she slowly turned herself so that she was facing his chest, sliding an arm around his waist in a light hug. A soft sigh escaped her as she snuggled up to him, his warmth a pleasing relief to her from the day's stress.

A second or two after she had did this, Starrk's eye slowly cracked open and glanced down at the resting Casilda. He couldn't help but smile and let out a single chuckle at her precision and stealthiness, finding her way through his slumbering defenses without instantly waking him. The arm that she slid under slightly tightened to hold her closer to him in a comforting matter; he knew all too well that she hadn't been feeling good as of late, and while he often didn't show it to others outwardly, he was likely more concerned for her than any of the others.

''"Good to know I'm not the only lazy bum around here." ''he thought to himself light-heartidly. While he may have been considered an equal in the eyes of many, Starrk rarely did anything to contribute to the Espada Afilado and their cause. But what could he honestly do to assist them aside from combat situations? He felt as if he were seen more as an honored associate, a title that he certainly wasn't proud of, and used more of a symbol rather than a contributor. In his eyes, if this meant that he didn't have to do anything really exerting and could just spend time with the Primera (unless she personally required his aid), he wouldn't complain.

He exhaled lightly through his nose, calmly snuggling his chin on her head smoothly as he spoke. "Sounds like you had a good day... again."

"Oh, you know me too well..." Casilda murmured, taking in a deep breath before sighing again. "You'd think that after everything that's happened, paperwork would be the last of my concerns. But Hana and I still had to make sure the terms of our Alliance are binding, and apparently there's no other way to set it in stone. Next time, I'm just going to have Calius do it..." She closed her eyes. "Right now, I just want to get some sleep while I still can."

To this, Starrk's arm pulled itself back slightly onto her hip, a physical indication to show her what he was referring to when he continued to speak. "Speaking of which... you're not feeling much better, are you?" he questioned with quiet concern. He knew what her problem was, but he did his best not to mention it to her for care of what it could do to her already high levels of stress. "You really do need to let Findor handle that office work stuff while you rest up. He's good at it, and it's not going to make things any easier for you if you just keep trying to do it on your own."

A groan of mild aggravation came from her. "Do you have to be such a nag?" She complained, her arm squeezing him momentarily. "Findorr's been breathing the same stuff down my back as it is. Nevertheless," She sighed, her breath gently gracing Starrk's chest. "You do have a point. I need to take time for myself, time to get it together. Though I'm going to have to go to see Nicolao, have the doctors figure out just why I've gotten around to feeling like dead weight recently..." She let out a soft whine, almost humorously nuzzling her capture's front. "Coyote, I feel awful~!"

''"Guess that answers that question." ''Starrk thought with humor, a sweatdrop appearing on the back of his head as Casilda buried her face into his chest. For him to see the usually stoic and proud Primera in such an adorably vulnerable and pitiful state was quite an honor for him, as he doubted that she normally let anybody else see her act in such a way. Humbled, he gently but playfully ruffled her hair, chuckling lightly. "There there queen bee; you're in the wolves den now. A little stomach growling won't kill ya..."

Casilda stopped nuzzling him, looking up at him with a pout. "Normally, hearing that would be the reason to keep a gun underneath the pillow." She said, before closing her eyes again. "But I guess you're right. I've been threatened by far worse. This is nothing I can't get over... at least, with the help of Nicolao. Now, sssh! I'm sleepin'." The last two sentences were said with a humorously stern tone.

"Fine, fine." Starrk relented with a humored scoff, continuing to hold her close in a compassionate manner. "Come to think of it... i could use some sleep too..."

Memories of Blood: The Prodigal Daughter Returns!
"...so we can agree that somewhere along the way, Buddha decided to give me the middle finger. Good, glad we've established that."

In a room within the barracks of the 2nd Division, Brina McTavish was sitting on her bed and giving a glare to the mirror facing her from a distance away. In replacement of the outfit she had worn while she was in the Inner Circle's care, she was back in the standard Punishment Force's uniform - something she had never expected herself to don again. There were a few difference from the standard one, as hers was sleeveless and sported a hood. But she also knew that she was going to have to get used to it. Soon after the war had officially ended, she had decided to stick with her master and the grandmaster of the Onmitsukidō rather than retreat to the depths of the Inner Circle. Her subordinate Kumiko took over for leadership, while she was reinstated into the 2nd Division. It was a surprising development, but one she could accept nonetheless due to the fact that it was a request from her former master. There was only one downside that had been hooked onto her ever since.

She was now at the position of 3rd Seat - the very same position she had repeatedly mocked Sazuke for.

Right now, she was directing her gripes to a bengal cat that was using her shoulders for a couch. "Not only am I a 3rd Seat," She ranted, glaring at the mirror and partially throwing her hands up. "But I'm also a 3rd Seat... under Tensai. Bet she's just sitting up in her room, laughing her steroid-drunk bum off! Oh, I can just hear her now." She did a mock impression of Sasuke's voice. "Hello, Brina! Or should I call you 3rd Seat? It's funny because you used to call me 3rd Seat all the time, even when I was a Captain! But who's laughing now, you lazy sack of swine crap?" She let out a loud groan, slapping her face to her palms. "A subordinate to her... and I'm not even a right-hand anymore. This bites more than a rabid dog..."

She sighed, lowering her hands to her lap and looking at her animal companion. "What do you think of all this, Cheshire? Surely, there's an opinion going on within that head of yours."

The said Cheshire said nothing, but looked around a few times before reaching over to place a paw on Brina's nose. In response, she scrunched up her face - something that only increased when the cat started pawing at it.

"No, stop it. I didn't say you could boop me. Chessy. Stahp it."

"...oh boy, you're looking a little too much like mom now."

Crouched inside the still of Brina's window was a young girl, appearing to be in her early to mid teens. She was wearing a special punishment corps outfit, with some features befitting that of a samurai, such as armor plates on her chest, shoulders and legs. She had black hair and fair black eyes, the former of which was kept in a light ponytail. Her expression was one of curiosity, but also one of slight worry, as implied by her previous sentence. "Next thing I know, you're gonna be building friggin' shrines to that cutie and calling it senpai."

"!"

Needless to say, Brina had not expected the likes of a visitor to appear.

She jolted up a little, causing the cat to stop "booping" her and look over at the "intruder". However, it didn't take her long for her to come down from her surprise, as she realized just who it was. To be fair, she had only heard of the girl through reports from the Inner Circle and never actually met her in person. But at least she knew enough to have a bit of ground. The girl's name was Bei-Feng, and she just happened to be the daughter of her master and the apprentice of Sazuke. Much to her amusement, the girl was also the new Lieutenant of the 2nd Division, meaning that she was her second superior to deal with. At the very least, they were just meeting one another in recent times. So there wasn't much history to worry about as far as personal relations went. She could get along with the girl better than Sazuke, at least.

She gave a humored scoff as she looked over at Bei-Fēng, with Cheshire sliding off of her shoulders and onto the bed. "What, does she actually do that?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow in genuine wonder.

"You've no idea." the girl responded with a deadpan stare and tone. "I've gotten to where hearing 'Yoruichi-sama' is like one of those things where you hear a really annoying song that gets stuck in your head; it sucks."

She glanced down at the floor briefly before sliding onto it's surface with her feet, fluidly moving her shoes off of her feet and wearing just her socks, before calmly sitting on the bed across from Brina. She crossed her legs and placed her arms on her knees, staring over at Brina in an almost analytical fashion. Her expression, while being what one might consider staring too much, was actually one of genuine curiosity; she didn't seem to have any sort of negative feelings towards Brina at this point, but it'd be safe to say that she wanted to hear about one of her mother's darkest individuals from none other than Brina herself.

"So... you're the one mom and Sazuke told me so much about." she quipped, finishing her deduction and leaning back slightly. "Brina McTavish, right?"

A smile crossed Brina's face at the revelation of her identity. She folded her arms across her chest, tilting her head to the side in a slight gesture of playfulness. "The one and only." She answered, taking a moment to look over the younger girl. "And from what sources tell me, you must be Bei-Fēng... the beloved daughter of Master and apprentice of 3rd Sea--" She caught herself before she finished the jab towards Sazuke, once again reminded of her own position. The memory slightly soured her expression and tone, and she corrected herself with contained irritation. "The Captain."

"Heh, I guess irony really can be a bitch sometimes, huh?" Bei-Feng giggled with amusement. She knew Brina's history, of course, but it became a rather amusing twist to Brina's fate that she and Sazuke had almost entirely swapped places since her great defection. Although she was doing her best not to sound offensive when she giggled, the impression would be faint enough just for one such as Brina to catch onto. "Well I guess since you know who I am... there isn't really much point in me giving you an "official" greeting into the Stealth Force... and that's especially true since you were a part of it way before me..."

Despite her irritation, Brina still managed a smirk in her direction. "And yet you're the Lieutenant now, the Captain's right hand." She commented. Although her tone was jocular, there was also a subtle dose of compliment within. "I guess that in terms of relationship, that's fair. I don't think she'd live if she had me as her assistant." Her smirk changed to a pleased and mischievous smile. "Not to say that her life isn't going to be a living Hell with that closed gap, anyway. She thinks I was insubordinate under Master's rule? Oh, I hope she learns to savor the taste of her own words soon enough."

At this point, Cheshire had moved towards Bei-Feng and began the notion of rubbing up against her back, continuously purring as it did so. Its owner continued talking, idly taking notice of the pet's actions. "But enough about me. What brings you to my humble abode, ma'am?"

"Ma'am? Heh, that's a first."

Bei-Feng smiled at hearing her honorific, even if it was just a jocular one. Since her ascension to Vice Captain, she had never really received such a title from any of the officers under her or Sazuke's command. Maybe they didn't feel she was yet worthy of the title, or maybe they just didn't feel the need to do so at all; she had only gotten the position a few days ago. Regardless, it was a pleasant thing for her young ears to hear, especially from one she had heard so much about.

"Heh, you don't have to call me that you know..." she began, a slight tint of pink in her cheeks as she went on. "I'd like to at least make one other friend aside from Sazuke. Everyone else here tries to just avoid me, though I don't think it's out of neglect, more like caution... and that really sucks for a newbie in the VC spot, you know what I mean?"

"They avoid you?" Brina repeated, her smile fading from subdued incredulity. "Well, that's a bit of surprising information. I mean, they have more reason to avoid me than you, all things considering. I mean, you seem like a nice enough girl to easily make pals. But if that's the case, it can't be helped." With a carefree motion, she flopped herself down onto her bed and folded her hands behind her head. "From here on out, we are officially friends!" With a satisfied and almost devilish smile, she raised a finger to point at the younger girl. "And if you are capable of messing with Tensai at least on occasion just for kicks, then you'll receive a special promotion to biffles."

While at first she blinked with quiet confusion at Brina's sudden willingness to be friends, she had to smile as well at the same time. "That quickly huh?" she continued, happily petting Cheshire's head and back. "I guess you really do know all there is about me if you think we're so compatible right off of the bat..." Her attention was quipped further when Brina mentioned messing with Sazuke, before she donned a similarly devilish expression in return. "Oh, trust me, I have her already on the ropes about what she wears around me. One time she was in that skin tight uniform she likes wearing and I accidentally said 'I'd tap that', as soon as I saw her. She made me run for the rest of the day." she finished with a sweat drop on the back of her head.

Brina did a double-take, her eyes widened to entertained surprise. "Oh my Spirit King, are you joking?!" She exclaimed, the biggest grin on her face as she looked at Bei-Feng. She couldn't keep the laughter from seeping into her voice. "You actually said that?! Oh, how I would have loved to see the expression on her face when you said that!" Her hands moved up to her face, covering her eyes and keeping her smile. "But trust me, that's nothing compared to what happened when I said it - and purposefully, I might add. She clotheslined me off the top of Sokyoku Hill and into the forest below. That was when we were on opposite sides of the spectrum in the war, mind you."

"Somehow I feel the reaction would be worse if you did it now as opposed to then." Bei-Feng giggled, covering her mouth slightly as she did so. While she was still trying to contain herself, she also took the chance to look around at the room Brina occupied. "Oh boy... I can already tell that you and me are gonna get along just fine... you'll be calling me biffles in no time." she finished with a chuckle.

"Good to hear." The brown-haired woman said, sliding her hands behind her head and crossing her legs. She idly took notice of Cheshire as she moved towards her, climbing onto her and laying on her stomach. "Anything else you'd like me to hear? Updates, recent issues, some punk that needs to get quelled in the Maggot's Nest?"

"Nah, not really. I mean, there are plenty down there that could use a little beating, but it'd be pointless for the time being." Bei-Feng responded, popping her neck into place slightly. "I just wanted to check and see how the new third seat is doing; I had a feeling coming back here after all that had... happened, before would be awkward and you could use a friendly face. But you seem to have it down pad."

Here was where a flicker of bitterness flashed within those blue eyes of Brina's.

Although there was still humor in her chuckle, there was also a subtle hint of sourness that could be picked up. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to face the sky. "Oh, how I wish that were the case." She said softly. "You just caught me by my lone self. Outside of that, it hasn't been so nice. Thanks to the method of "resignation" I used before, just about each and every Onmitsukidō underling's been glaring holes into me from day in to day out. Not that I wasn't expecting it, but it doesn't exactly make things more comfortable. In addition, I've been doing some thinking about earlier interactions, and... let's just say I'm not a big fan of Boss Lady Yoruichi now."

"Oh? What do you mean?" Bei-Feng asked in response, blinking a couple of times. "You don't have to worry about offending me or anything like that; I'm no where nearly as infatuated with her as mom is, so you can tell me what's up if you want."

Brina remained silent for only a brief moment, letting out a heavy sigh and giving herself a moment to conjure up her thoughts. What had come into question was a sensitive subject for her, especially considering it involved her at one of her weakest moments. By telling this girl, she would be entrusting a part of herself to her. Although she seemed friendly enough, she was still the Captain's Lieutenant and could take anything said here back to their mutual superior. She would be making a risk, and only Izanami knew what the consequences were. Slowly, she allowed herself to sit up, with the cat hopping back onto the bed again. Her gaze was firm and serious as it looked over at the Lieutenant, matching the tone of her voice. "I'll tell you," She said, raising a palm towards the balcony. With a concentrated use of energy, the balcony doors were sealed shut and the curtains swooped to keep the inside from being viewed. "But you have to promise not to tell anyone else, especially to none of the higher-ups. That includes Yoruichi and Master."

Bei-Feng simply nodded her head in response, acknowledging the closing of the window and doors. "I'm all ears and no talk."

"All right..."

With a somewhat heavier heart and a sudden desire to have a sake cup in hand, Brina told her story. "It was in the midst of war, a time not too long after Yoruichi revealed to both Sazuke and I she was alive and well. The three of us were in a tent discussing how to deal with the remaining enemy forces... or at least, we tried to. It didn't help that prior to our meeting, there was a scuffle between me and the Captain... which she sadly interrupted." She averted her gaze away from her Lieutenant. "Sore as I am about that, it isn't the reason. I was trying to be the nice girl, trying to lighten up the mood and get them to relax. But it seemed like Tensai was on her period. Every other word to me was either a hostile or smart-aleck remark. She wasn't even trying to get over herself. So eventually, I got fed up and tried to shoot back at her..."

The fingers on her lap tightened, and her expression tensed with anger. "And that was when Boss jumped in. Despite every scathing insult that came from Sazuke, she did nothing. Yet here I was trying to defend myself, and she goes about and threatens me for it! All the meanwhile, Sazuke was still handing out jabs! It was as if Yoruichi had suddenly turned deaf towards her or something! For a grandmaster of the Onmitsukidō, she seemed real insistent on coddling that condescending pig!" The last words of her sentences were said with a particularly vicious tone, and by the time she had finished, her hands were quivering slightly out of her fury.

"Huh..."

This was Bei-Feng's only response, at least for the first few seconds tha followed after some silence. For all she knew, this could have simply been a petty attempt at self defense on Brina's part; she had heard a much different point of view from her Captain, and her mother rarely talked of it too. And aside from her mother's stories and teachings, she hadn't made any notable contact with Yoruichi since the war... but hearing Brina's angered retelling of events clearly did more than just cause her to ponder the true nature of the event.

"... well, that certainly sounds like Sazuke." she finally let out, exhaling slightly and crossing her arms, staring up at the ceiling as she was still in thought. "Dedicated but unwilling to let things go... you would think after the war things would lighten up and bridges could be rebuilt and all that..." she closed her eyes and turned her head back down to face Brina's direction. "Have things between you and her, Yoruichi included, soothed out any?"

Brina closed her eyes and let out a harsh sigh through the nose, trying to calm herself down. "I don't really know about me and Yoruichi." She muttered. "She doesn't exactly know how thoughtful I've been of that encounter. But as for Tensai?" She gave a derisive snort. "Hah. As if that would ever happen. The only thing I'd get from her is the usual, just as I've always gotten from her. She's gotten a kick out of spitting on me so much, it's like second nature to her. Hell would rise to the surface before we'd patch things up."

"Well, y'never know." Bei-Feng responded with a nervous, yet light-hearted smile. "Time can heal a lot of wounds... I mean, look at-" before she would go on, however, she would cut herself off. She was dangerously close to mentioning the old conflict between Brina and Sui-Feng that happened all those years ago. For now, she had already delved too far into the past that the mood was somewhat uncomfortable as it was, so she knew it'd be best to not go any further. "In any case, I'm glad to see that you're settling in alright."

"Although it's not to the level of "alright" I would go for," The brown-haired woman replied, closing her eyes and once again flopping on the bed with her back. Her arms were folded across her chest, and her gaze was towards the sky. "I guess I have to count my blessings. But thanks for your appreciation." She tilted her head to the side so that she could look over at the Lieutenant, her hair scattered around her. "Sure I'm not needed for any official business? Maybe one of the higher-ups requested me for something you happened to forget about?"

"Nah." The Vice Captain replied casually, shifting forward and backwards idly as she continued. "Even if there was something I forgot about, Sazuke would just do it anyway, and twice as fast too. I'm a bit of a lazy-wart sometimes..." finally she got up to her feet and began to walk back towards the window, slipping her shoes back on as she did so. "It's been nice catching up with you Brin-Brin." she said with a smile, putting her legs outside of the window and sitting on the sill again before looking back at her. "Can't wait to hang out with you more~!" she finished before hopping outside of the window and into the barracks below.

"A charming kid."

As she retreated out from the window, Brina allowed herself to chuckle. In contrast to Sazuke, she believed that she would get along with the Lieutenant just fine. Of course, there may be the possibility that the Captain could accuse her of polluting the young girl's mind. But she would just have to cross that bridge when she came to it. For now, she would allow herself to relax as much as she could while no one found reason to bother her. She hoped Bei-Feng's visits came often; now that she found herself to get along with the girl, she at least had a friend of her own to hang out with.

She closed one eye and moved her head slightly as Cheshire nuzzled her face, laughing quietly. "She may be a charming kid," She said, reaching over to scratch one of the cat's ears. "But she's got nothing on you."

As the Lieutenant would land into the confines of the barracks, one person in particular seemed to stand in front of her. She wore a white Haori, the symbol of the 2nd Division emblazoned upon its back, her hair done in a high-rised ponytail. Her normal bodysuit was replaced with the executive attire, normally accustomed by those with the rank of Commander-in-Chief of the Onmitsukidō. Her eyes were drawn to Bei-Feng, an expectant smile drawn across her face, complemented by a methodical tap of her right foot along with a cross of her arms over her chest.

"Lieutenant," Sazuke said in a crisp, yet not entirely unfriendly tone, "please escort Miss McTavish to my quarters. I need to see you both in less than five minutes."

Turning on her heels, she left without any further dialogue, her person long gone to await them within her quarters.

The moment Bei-Feng landed on her two feet and saw the figure in front of her, she seemed to freeze almost entirely. Her pupils dialated, her legs briefly quivered, and she didn't even look up at Sazuke's face; the white haori and the voice were all that she needed to know that her Captain had been out there. Whether or not she had been there the entire time or not was entirely irrelevant now, as Sazuke knew that she and Brina had met for the first time.

''"Christ, I've really done it now." ''the girl thought with fear and dread, comically sweating and waterfall like tears flowing from her closed eyes. "She's gonna yell at us or... or humiliate us or something... Bei-Feng you idiot! You should've been more careful!!"

With a dreadful sigh, she picked herself back up and began to climb back up into Brina's room to give her the news. ''"So much for a long-lasting friendship..." ''she thought while doing so.

"You know, you two," Sazuke began to drawl on, her rump leaning against the top of her desk while her legs were crossed in sync with her arms, folded one over the other. As soon as they both entered the office and closed the door behind them, she had kept this posture, waiting for them to realize she had heard everything. A humored twitch was seen around her brow, indicating she wasn't entirely pleased what she heard either. "when you decide to gossip about the Captain of a Division, try not to do that when within hearing range of the barracks. It is usually unwise for you to especially talk about said Captain when she is the Commander-in-Chief of the Onmitsukidō."

"Honey, I thought we talked about this stalking thing..."

The first response came from Brina, who had her arms folded across her chest and her back leaning against the wall. In contrast to whatever expression Bei-Feng probably had, hers was relaxed and casual. Blue eyes stared at Sazuke with blue eyes nearing indifference. "I know that you love me and all," She continued, throwing caution to the wind. "But I need my personal space, and you're kind of smothering me..."

Following Brina's remark, Bei-Feng was on her knees, her hands placed over them in a typical position for a Stealth Force underling. She was far too intimidated of her Captain to say anything in protest, so she simply remained in silence, waiting for Sazuke's judgment.

"It is my business to be aware what goes on in my Division. It was your poor judgement to let loose your lips so close to my garrison, McTavish, not mine," Sazuke countered with a pointed glare. She'd turn her gaze towards her subservient Lieutenant, briefly tunneling her loathing that she participated in a conversation about her superior in such a lax manner. This would recede as she let loose a sigh, her whole body releasing a great amount of tension from her person as she pushed off the desk.

"Though, that isn't why I called you both here," Sazuke said pointedly, her stare now fixated strictly at Brina with a measure of dispassion yet all too serious. "I'll get straight to the point. Given your...part...in the war, and all that has happened, a great number of the Inner Circle were given amnesty in order to serve the Soul Society in any number of ways they can. Some have reformed their organization to do duties to help the Spiritual Realms and the Material World recover from its occupation and the destruction that has been let loose. Others are given the chance to join the DCO. I'm given you the ability to join the Onmitsukidō..."

Crossing her arms, Sazuke said very bluntly, adding a smirk as she enunciated her title offer to her most loathed rival, "...as my 3rd Seat, head of the Detention Corps."

"And there it is!" Already knowing what was going to happen to her didn't soothe it any. Brina's expression was quick to contort to one of anger, and she fixed a glare of clear irritation at the Captain. "So in other words, you're just here to gloat about our positions now." She summarized, pushing herself off of the wall and lowering her arms. "Just what I'd come to expect from you, Tensai. What," She cast a glance at the kneeling Bei-Feng. "Did you bring her here just so you can have an audience to laugh at my humiliation?"

Bei-Feng simply remained silent; her loyalty to her Captain went as far as to never speak unless she was spoken to do otherwise, but the stress going through her head was enough to make her lips quiver slightly. She was regretting ever stepping foot into Brina's room.

"No," Sazuke said it pointedly, crossing her arms while bringing a quiet glare down at Bei-Feng, "seeing as you're not surprised by this announcement, I can only assume my Lieutenant spoke too soon. A mistake, on her part, one of which she'll be reprimanded for at a later time.

"Besides the point, I didn't do so to get under your skin," She continued, levelling a serious stare at her long time rival, "I did so for the purpose of you meeting your superiors. Barring the other Captains of the Gotei 13, the only ones higher ranked than you would be myself and Bei-Feng. Anyone beneath you are peers who should be respected but have no standing over you. Your authority also extends to the Maggot's Nest, as you become its overseer, ensuring that nothing terrible transpires there and that order is maintained among them. I am speaking with all seriousness and not with any form of jest, McTavish, please keep that in mind."

As far as information went, this was stuff that Brina had already known of. She folded her arms across her chest and maintained a scrutinizing glare at the Captain as she went over the "refresher" for her position. The mention towards the Lieutenant caused her to cast blue eyes towards the young girl's bowing form, and she couldn't help but feel mildly insulted. To assume she was told by someone else instead of figuring it out for herself? It was probably unintentional, but she swore there was an insult thrown her way. Knowing Sazuke, "unintentional" probably wasn't the case.

"Yeah, well, forgive me if I don't believe you right off the bat." She quipped, nodding her head towards Bei-Feng. "And you don't need to grill the Lieutenant for anything. I kinda figured it out for myself. With everything that transpired between us and how the war played out in terms of enemy and ally, how couldn't I? You really need to have a bit more faith in my intelligence, Sazuke."

"I never doubted your intelligence, McTavish, just your maturity. In the way you've acted since our prior encounters you have always been guided by your hatred and your vehemence towards myself as well as my associates. I wanted this promotion, an offer I don't give out lightly, delivered in person by me," Sazuke enunciated in slow, hardened words as she didn't budge an inch to her sarcastically speaking former colleague. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned to the side in a presuming manner as she leaned her head back just enough to jut her chin out in her direction, "I know you still loathe me, McTavish. Quite frankly, I don't think too much of you either. But I do recognize someone who is capable. This isn't meant to subvert you under my authority. This is a means to bring you back into the fold and earn the respect you once had in this Division as well as the rest of the Gotei 13. If your standing as a loyal Soul Reaper for the betterment of the Soul Society ever meant anything to you, this is your best chance to prove that."

"And I'll be glad to." Brina answered, her smooth tone hardening a little, as well. "But you and I both know that it's only going to carry so far. I devoted myself to the cause of Soul Society once before, and it nearly got one of the people I loved most killed. It was only by sheer luck and the grace of the gods that she's still with me. I'll tell you this: I'll be glad to play the good guy again and fall into everyone's good graces." She unfolded her arms, pointing a finger at Sazuke and putting forth a venom that could've burned through the likes of diamond. "But if you try to do what Master did, turn that loyalty against anyone else I adore? I'll hunt you down, bleed you out, drag you to Tendan and let the streets take care of you. I refuse to do something like that again, consequences be damned."

"Likewise," Sazuke responded in a crisp tone, "if you pose a threat to the safety and security of the Seireitei once more, I'll ensure that your end will be painful and more torturous than you can even conceive in that depraved mind of yours. I'll let you rot in Kaze's laboratory and let him tinker on your body, remodel you into a sick pet of his. Ensure that you remain loyal to your duties and I won't even consider putting you through what you've already endured or what you've yet to experience."

Inhaling deeply, Sazuke exhaled out the mouth. Walking forward, she stood face to face with her rival and longtime nemesis. For awhile her eyes stared coldly into hers, holding the same mirrored loathing Brina held for herself. But then, it eventually defused into dispassionate indifference, as if it didn't matter at all.

Then, a wry smile worked her way up on her face as she closed her eyes for a moment. Opening them once more, she reached out her hand to be clasped by her in open invitation, "Welcome back to the Stealth Force, Brina McTavish."

There was a transition of Brina's expression, as well.

For those few seconds, she held her rival's glare with her trademark amount of defiance. Then, and much to her surprise, she found her frown slowly turning into a smirk. There was so much nostalgia running through this very moment. Staring each other down had been made into a past time into particularly tense confrontations, and on occasions, their masters had to come in and break them up. Maybe there would be another chance to genuinely settle the score between the two, some chance to start the fight that Yoruichi had ended. But for now, she would gladly wait. She'd have her chance to finish what had been started in the war.

The only regret was that killing was out of the question.

A soft chuckle escaped her, and she reached out to clasp and shake Sazuke's hand. "Good to be back... Captain." She purred. "And I'm sure that at the end of the day, you will be singing the same tune..."

"Hope she didn't forget to stock up on aspirin, because I am going to drain every bit of fun out of this that I can."

Fourteen Ways to Kill Time
On the formally criminal front that was V-14, things had taken a much more positive turn.

After finally getting a chance to get together, they and the Gotei 13 signed an official contract that legalized the mercenaries. True to Kenja's word, their actions in the war had gotten them recognized as heroes of the people. The Seireitei was kind enough to give them their very own HQ complete with their personal accommodations. Notably, it was a bit expensive. But with leniency from the Gotei 13 and the organization's huge money score, they easily coped with the financial challenges. The stress that the war had given to them had been completely lifted from their shoulders.

That lack of stress showed within their actions.

"YOU TOUCHED MY CHESTICLES."

"I'M SORRY, OKAY?!"

"NO YOU'RE NOT!"

"DON'T TELL ME WHETHER I'M SORRY OR NOT!"

Asuka sat in her chair, her face held in her hands as she listened to an argument between Genesis and Yusuke. She had no idea how it happened, but the topic of choice involved Yusuke accidentally catching Genesis's front "assets". For whatever reason, the Daitenshi had decided to freak out, and now the both of them were going back and forth in a childish yet humorous manner. Beside her was an annoyed Shou, who was regarding it all with a priceless expression of deadpan. It was clear this wasn't the first time.

"Children!" Kaitlyn snarled from another table. "I swear if you don't keep quiet, I will get out the paddle and come over there!"

"But Mom~!" Genesis whined, holding her arms across her chest protectively. "He grabbed my chesticles~!"

"It was an accident, you overreacting bimbo!" Yusuke yelled, throwing his fists in the air.

"What did you call me?!"

"I called you a fatass!"

"I WILL KILL EVERYTHING YOU ENJOY!!"

"Do you have to deal with this, Shou?" Asuka asked, her voice muffled by her hands.

"Oh, unbelievably." Shou grumbled, giving a heavy sigh. "How her experiences in Hell never took away her more childish side, I'll never know."

It was during the flurry of unintelligible shouts of crass nature that two people sat up from their own tables. Having taken the time to actually talk to each other about their own issues among the topics as of late, neither of them could hear over the sound of racket ensuing nearby. Two dark silhouettes strode wordlessly behind each arguing participant, with two pairs of hands -one gloved and the other calloused and bare- manhandled the scalps.

"You're annoying," Shinshin said in a dry tone, as he easily used one hand to lift up Yusuke by his collar while using the other to pull his head back by his crop of black hair, "cease your idiocy and enjoy a drink."

"Don't make me sit you next to your Commander," Shadō whispered, his imposing visage shrouded by a comically overblown aura of darkness that magnified his paled visage and yellow eyes that glared down at the Daitenshi within his grip, "or must I remind you your good behavior is the only thing keeping you here and not in a deep, dark, damned hole?!"

"That was excessive," Shinshin said dryly with a stare at his compatriot.

"You're right, I should have been more softspoken," Shadō said with an affirming nod, returning his gaze to Shinshin's.

"How do you think I've kept someone like Zaii in line? I never raised my voice to them. That makes me look weaker when I shout," Shinshin explained as if it was an elementary manner.

"Right," Shadō raised his free hand that wasn't gripping the Daitenshi's white scalp, gripping it with an audible crinkle of his leathern glove, "I'll make sure to be more active in my subtlety."

"That's better," Shinshin said with a smile that matched Shadō's.

Needless to say, the two victims weren't pleased with their situation.

"Owowowowowow~!" Yusuke whined, his legs flailing in an attempt to get some ground or at least ease the discomfort of his hair being pulled. But against the samurai's grip, there was no use in comprised. "Leggo of me! This hurts, you know!" As best as he could, he swung his gaze to a now-grinning Asuka. "Boss, help me!"

Asuka gave a halfhearted shrug. "I'm sorry, Yusuke. But it's out of my hands now." She said simply, reveling in the look of despair that her subordinate was giving her. Her face was a mask of innocence. "What could little old me do against two scary men like them?"

"A lot!" The boy wailed, continuing to flail comically and helplessly. "Stop taking mental pictures and help me!"

Although to a lesser degree than the "mortal", Genesis's senses didn't like the feeling of fingers roughly handling her scalp. But at the very least, she could take it without much complaint. In fact, she folded her arms across her chest and daringly spoke a quip. "Y'know," She said, looking over her shoulder at the dark entity. "When someone pulls my hair like this, it usually shows how bad they want it. I mean, I know I'm hot, but I'm not into the public watching, y'know?"

"Genesis!" Shou gasped, mortified at what she said.

"What? I'm not."

"And here I thought we were going to get a show..." The Punisher's voice quipped from yet another table, earning a protesting look from her male subordinate.

"Don't encourage her!!"

"...I'm not sure what my feelings are doing right now." A disgruntled Oliver muttered, watching the whole scene with a mixture of bemusement and slight disgust.

"Tch," Shadō hissed with disgust, releasing his hold on Genesis as he walked away with Shinshin, "your Spiritual Pressure makes me nauseous. I'd rather slit my own throat than remain in close contact with you."

"Was that necessary?" Shinshin asked as they retreated to a darker corner of the bar.

"It was," Shadō said with a darker tone.

"Fair enough," Shinshin replied with a chuckle.

"Mother," Mōka spoke in a terse tone, eyes half-lidded and glaring pointedly across from her forward left. She crossed her arms over her chest, now clothed in a casual sleeveless, short skirted crimson kimono with white borders etched into the fabric, "please keep yourself from becoming too intoxicated. I'd hate for you to cause a scene worse than the two children's-"

"ANOTHER ROUND!"

"-or the buffoons yonder," Mōka twitched, with closed eyes and furrowed brows.

"You can nevah best the famous drink'ah of Tendan!" Shito cried out with a flushed expression, turning to his right to see the three seated men, Kenja, Zaii, and Anton. A large pint-sized mug was in his left hand while a row of bottles stacked in front of their counterspaces, with several empty and wet spots from their sloppy drinking. Shito himself was wearing a muscle shirt with black dye and red letters saying, "Luck Has Nothing To Do With Awesomeness," while Kenja adorned a more humble wear of t-shirt and jeans, and Zaii in his standard Gi attire.

"Not a chance!" Kenja goaded with a fierce fire behind his slightly glazed eyes, pounding his mug onto the counter insistantly as he thumbed his own muscular chest, "as a Fullbringer, I've got plenty of stamina to contend with you lot. Keep it comin', scar face!"

"Scars make men sexy! I don't see any scars on yer mugly-hic-ugly mug!" Shito hiccupped as he slurred his words incorrectly, pointing his mug towards him while his free hand pointed at the bar instead of his intended victim.

A loud series of chugs could be heard to Kenja's left, as Zaii kept drinking, a giddy smile on his face but looking nowhere close to finishing. A pile of empty bottles scattered across his stool's feet, while others were almost empty in front of him. By far he looked to be closer in the lead than the other two, as he was too distracted by the pleasant buzz of the various mixed alcoholic drinks he's ingested and has yet to drink.

Likewise, Anton had remained competitively silent. The only sounds he made were produced from his drinks as he relentlessly chugged one down after another. The moment he downed one bottle was the moment he slammed it on the table, snatched up another one and began the process all over again. He was only a little ways ahead of the bememoth swordsman, but his side showed one thing in particular; although he had a flush on his face, he appeared to be the most sober out of the group. He had done this many times with Alpha Team, and this time was no different.

The Punisher simply gave a smirk over to her daughter, holding the shaft of her wine glass tentatively within her fingers. "Oh, don't be such a pussy, Sayū." She teased. "This is a chance to relax, enjoy the time we've been given. With everything that's happened, I can tell you guys needed it." She took another swig of the contents inside. "'Sides, it's gonna take a lot more than this to get me wasted. Or did you already forget who I am?"

"I haven't forgotten," The Hankami said with a roll of her eyes, "how can I not when your blood is part of me as is my father's? But I fail to see how your deified persona gives you rights to abuse it for the sake of becoming incapable of undergoing the process of intoxication. It just seems childish..."

"I'm a sluuuuuuug," Hyōryū drawled out as she dragged herself in a worm-like fashion, completely wasted from her own drinkage of alcoholic beverages. Her face was more flushed red than a tomatoe, and her eyes were almost closed with a vacant expression crossing over their glossy lenses. Wheezing giggles were let out as she kept inching across the ground, finding her stupor-ridden journey humorous to her boggled mind.

"...why is everyone acting completely idiotic or drunk right now?" Mōka asked in a perturbed, if not exasperated manner as she swerved her head around and waved her arms up with frustration.

"I don't know," Oliver, who had taken an interest to "slug" Hyōryū, whipped out a camera and aimed it towards the drunken gun woman to record her. His face was one of absolute glee. "But I'll be damned if I don't take advantage of this while I can! Ey, Sis! Keep doing that around each and every table!"

"As far as the likes of V-14 is concerned, this is nothing new."

Another voice - Shinji's voice - came from behind the Hankami. His figure approached with arms folded across the chest and an impassive expression directed towards the chaos unfolding all around them. He kept this pose until he reached the table, sliding into a chair with the grace of a noble. "Most of the members are unable to handle high levels of alcohol, with the exception of Alpha Team." He explained. "At least, that's what I've heard from Yoshizawa. Some are rather intolerable," He passed a slight glare over towards Hyōryū. "As you can plainly see. But at the very least, others--"

"Weee~!"

He was briefly cut off when he felt slender and feminine arms grasp him in a hug from behind, courtesy of Rika. "--are quite easily bearable." He finished, his formal and stiff tone softening a little.

"Hey, Shinji-kun~!" Rika slurred happilly, nuzzling into the Mod Soul's neck like a kitten. "Did I ever tell you how much of a friend you are? You're the best pal I've ever had as a teammate, and that's barring Yusuke-kun! The rest of them don't seem to like me because I can't fight back like they can, but not you~!" Her barrage of compliments earned her a humorously awkward pat on the head.

"I... appreciate your company, Nakamura."

"Aren't we having a splendid time in here?" Another voice, foreign in terms of current company yet familiar in memory, came to their ears.

It was Qilin, with his hands in his pockets and a mirthful grin sported on his face. But he wasn't alone; on his shoulders sat a young girl with hands placed on his head in a manner not too dissimilar from a drum. She was sporting an even brighter smile than he was, lightly tapping away at his crown and giggling to herself occasionally. The V-14 had yet to know it, but the girl he was carting around was his daughter Michiko. They also wouldn't know what other person he had blood connections to until she stepped into the room, suddenly finding the floor more visually appealing than the ones in the room with her.

It was Shikyo Ninaru, 4th Horseman of the disabled Inner Circle.

There was a sudden tension flaring up in the air for those who were conscious and sober enough to notice the Horsemen. Most of those continuing their antics paid no heed to the new arrivals, just carrying on with their idiocy and comedic routines as usual. But for the Hankami Leader of the Mercenary force, Mōka certainly gravitated her eyes upon the pair and the Horseman in particular.

"Well-Well," Mōka announced, causing all those aware to truly cast their eyes upon the entering three, unbeknownst to them the family of three, "if it isn't the redeemed Captain of 7th Division and the Horseman of the Inner Circle. What exactly brings you two ambiguously paroled people like you to our base of operations?"

From the table in the shadows, Shinshin cast a cool glance at the man in question called 'Qilin'. He knew who it was. Tsubasa, the Spirit Smith. Formally contracted by the Inner Circle both as a spy and as their weapons craftsman, he knew him for his art long before he knew of his connections to the infamous Mercenary Force that aimed to subjugate the world as they knew it. For some reason he couldn't help but wonder...what his true aims in visiting them were?

"Shinshin," Shadō said in a graveled voice, his golden eyes burning underneath the overcasting silhouette of his wide hat, "should things get problematic, we should step in. And we shouldn't be gentle this time."

"Let's just see how this plays out," Shinshin said in a cautious tone, his eyes keeping track of the trio as they entered the dining bar they all were occupying at once. "I'd like to think bringing a child here means they don't mean harm. Especially one as precious as that."

There was a somewhat irate tone within Mōka's words that made Qilin cock an eyebrow and Michiko look up curiously. "Not what I was expecting for a greeting, Komori-san." He commented lightly, his smile lessening to a more contained degree. "And I thought the Gotei 13 and your organization hit it off so well at first. What, did you start to miss us as an enemy?"

"This was a bad idea." Shikyo muttered, one arm folded across the chest and the tip of her other thumb clenched between her teeth. Her gaze was averted away from her husband, directed towards the subtle glare of a distant Angelika. The German in question was leaning against a nearby wall with her arms folded, retaining an idle and casual air about herself.

"What makes you say that?" Qilin asked, turning an inquiring gaze over to her.

"Why do you think?" Shikyo hissed back.

"Oh, c'mon, dear, you need to lighten up." As if the whole thing was a big joke to him, the Spiritsmith rolled his eyes and took his gaze off of her. "They just need to get used to your company, that's all. Don't let a few glares here and there get you down." He turned his gaze towards his daughter. "Hey, Michiko. Daddy needs to settle a few things with the adults. Why don't you run along and play for a minute?"

"Okay~!" Michiko brightened up, quickly hopping off of his shoulders and towards a bemused Yusuke. "Hey, you! I wanna play!"

"Didn't your parents ever tell you not to talk to strangers?"

"Silly! Some strangers are friends you haven't met yet!"

"...oh my gosh, that's a very good point! C'mon, let's go mess with the jukebox!"

As Michiko made off with her new playmate, Qilin set his sights on who was known as the "bonifide samurai" of V-14. "Hey, you!" He called out, casually walking towards the man with his hands planted on his hips. "Shinshin, was it? I'd like to toss a few words back and forth with you, if you don't mind..."

The called out disciple of Asuka furrowed his brows with perplexion. Whatever business he had wished to have with the man had escaped him, though the sounds of battle and the ardor that followed was a reasonable excuse. Considering his jovial attitude he decided against approaching the man with a hostile manner and would give him the respect he desired.

"I'll return shortly," He said to his Ikiryō associate, leaving him to glare after him as he walked towards Qilin.

Upon approaching, Mōka averted her gaze from the horseman, downing another gulp of brandy down her throat. Her eyes glared at the table, hating that her already sullen mood had to become even more sour with the arrival of unwanted guests. She knew that they should have locked the doors so no one could simply walk right in.

"The pains in the ass with being a Walk-In Legal Guild," Mōka thought with a visible snarl overlapping her beautiful visage.

Reaching him, Shinshin bowed politely before the Spiritsmith, and folded his arms within the folds of his kimono's sleeves. His cool eyes stared curiously at Tsubasa's, as he inquired pointedly, "You wish to discuss something, Spiritsmith?"

"More than one thing, at least." The Captain answered, giving a light shrug of the shoulders. "And the first would be exactly that." He folded his arms behind his back, his smile fading into an expression of curiosity. "I was pretty sure I had covered each and every one of my bases before I went into the whole "alias" thing. No one suspected me of my other identity for quite some time, and the only slip-up I thought of making was where Meikurai's judgement had been decided. Yet even before that, you managed to find my identity right away. I tried not to give any hints or left behinds, and yet," He briefly pulled out a hand and lightly slapped his own chest before returning it behind his back. "Bam! You point me out and ask me if I can fix your blade on the spot. Not exactly the most subtle of ways to do it, but impressive nonetheless. I must ask you."

He tilted his head to the side, cocking an eyebrow. "How did you do it?"

"Observation and experience," Shinshin responded coolly, "I've met many who've attempted to mimic the art you've mastered. It is how I learned to craft my own weapons, among them being Kakushin. Prolonged dabbling in the art of spiritual metallurgy gives you callouses similar yet strikingly different than a swordsman's. Each callous resonates a trace of spiritual fabric of each weapon they've crafted, culminating into the sign of occasional yet rarely visible glowing scars upon the blacksmith's hands. Though I did not know of your allegiances or whom your customers were, I knew you by reputation and by the signs your hands showed me. I know not another who could figure this out, so I insisted that I seek your aid...at the time, of course."

"And now?" Tsubasa questioned further. "Is Kakushin still in pieces as you had first shown it to me?"

Without delay, Shinshin produced the sword, scabbard separated from the bandage wrapped blade. Broken into two jagged pieces, the man held it reverantly before his eyes. After breaking contact with the blade, he gingerly handed it to Qilin, hoping that the weapon could be restored once in his possession.

"This is Kakushin," Shinshin said as he presented the elegant black sheathe and hilt of the broken bladed weapon, "can you fix it?"

It seemed that Tsubasa understood just how much this blade meant to Shinshin.

He reached out and took the creation from its owner's hands as if he was handling a baby, taking a few steps back to examine. For what seemed like eternity but was in fact only seconds, he did nothing but remain silent and analyze the blade. After the time had passed, he allowed himself to speak. "Broken into two pieces, courtesy of a precise sword slash. Yes, whoever delivered this particular blow must've been quite the swordsman. I can only wonder what kind of blade was he or she using against something like this..." He briefly closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head as if denying the ability to repair it. But his next words would dissolve that idea. "I don't know..." In opening his eyes, he lifted an eyebrow at the samurai. "Do you want me to fix it?"

"Want to?" Shinshin blinked with confusion at this thought. Of course he wanted to fix this sword. It was the first and only real competent blade he had since his discipleship by his mother. Not even after parting with her did he move it more than an arm's length away. Even when he grafted the hidden swords into his arms and took up arts of using other weaponry, he'd always keep it at his side. Was it his dependency on having something protecting him that he wished to have it restored? No, he managed without it this far, all without using it. Was it time to let the weapon go?

His gaze drifted towards the masterfully crafted weapon. It had been kept close at his side and had been his sole companion where he had none. Whether it was to protect, intimidate or kill, the sword was a truly effective tool to accomplish his tasks. Without it and the weapons that had been embedded within his arms, he had become a lost warrior with no weapon to call his own. But, did it have to be this sword?

It was then that he realized just precisely who he was talking to. Looking up, Shinshin bowed humbly as he spoke in a louder tone than he was accustomed to, "Good Spiritsmith! I beg your pardon as I ask a great task from you without any prior knowledge that I'd do so or provocation that you can. I wish for you to restore that sword back to its former greatness, if it is within your ability. If so, then please craft me a sword to match it, so that I can wield the past that I've lived through and harness the power of the future this new weapon will grant me!"

It was here that Tsubasa blanched a little, surprised by the sudden display.

"Oh, no no no no no~! That's not what I meant!" He said quickly, waving his hands in front of him as best as he could the sword in their grasp. His panic lasted only a short moment before he recomposed himself. "I meant, do you want me to fix it... or do you want something more made out of this?" He held it up to his view again, studying it for a moment more. "I mean, something like this clearly serves as a companion and an extension of yourself. It should be more than an ordinary blade swung around like a simple weapon. Every movement should convey the extent of your resolve, your strength and just how far you are willing to go to topple your foe. You created it, and it should evolve as you do."

He met Shinshin's eyes with an even stare. "All I'll need is a few days. If you want it, I can take this blade and shape it to one of the best forces to have stayed by your side. What do you say?" A grin slowly crawled up his face. "Do you want it fixed, or do you want it... made whole?"

Shinshin felt a bit foolish for acting in such an exasperated manner. Clearly he hadn't understood the meaning behind the man's words when he'd fix it. Someone of his caliber can transform any ordinary blade into a much finer and elegant weapon than it had originally started out to be.

Seeing this, Shinshin met his gaze with his own hopeful stare, having the strength to once again compose himself, "Make it whole, Tsubasa. I want this weapon never to shatter and to shatter all opposition when my own strength isn't enough. This is all I ask of it, and by extension, you Spiritsmith."

The Captain's expression brightened, and pleasure was written across his countenance. He lowered the blade to waist level, holding it in both hands while giving a bow of acknowledgement in return. "It shall be done, my sword-enthusiast friend." He said with a bit of a jovial attitude, slowly standing straight again. "I will work my magic on Kakushin and have it back to you within the week. In the meantime, though, why don't you sit back and continue to enjoy yourself? I'd hate to interrupt such a happy gathering..."

"Daddy, Mommy! Look over here!"

His eyes widened in surprise, and his head as well as his wife's turned to look at the scene with awe. What they saw was a standing human stack consisting of three people. Yusuke was at the bottom, sitting on his shoulders was a surprised Rika Nakamura, and on her shoulders was a carefree Michiko. The girl was waving her arms around, cheering her head off before pointing in a random direction. "Go, my noble steeds!" She declared. "Go and take us to Valhalla!"

"Woohoo~!" Yusuke cheered, heading towards the direction his "leader" told him. "To Valhalla!"

"N-not so fast, Yusuke!" Rika protested, trying to keep a good grip on the young girl's legs as she was moved. "I'm not exactly a ballerina, you know?!"

Shinshin could only smile with acknowledgement before bowing politely to signify his leave. Turning on his heels, he briefly smiled at the sight of something so comedic before returning to his passive stoic state. It wouldn't take him long to return to his seat with Shadō, whom exchanged a look of silent surprise.

"He's working on your sword?" Shadō inquired.

"More than that. He intends to make it better," Shinshin responded coolly.

"And you're alright with that?"

"I've thought about it long and hard. I don't wish to have a memento of the past, but a testament that I can endure my trials. Kakushin is no longer a brand of my failures but now a tool to cut the fabric of the future, wherever it may take me," Shinshin responded firmly.

"Hmph, that sounds as good of a reason as any," Shadō responded with a small smile, grasping his drink so he could sip from its contents in peace.

Meanwhile, Mōka could only stare at Qilin suspiciously. She couldn't wrap her head around the fact why someone like Shinshin, who lived and fought with such a prized possession, would part with it to a total stranger. Especially one considered to be a past enemy, even if it was indirectly.

"Hey," Mōka finally called out, wanting her inquisitive nature subdued through knowing the truth. Leaning onto the table with her elbow, she palmed her cheek as she cocked her head to the side, her free hand still holding her drink as she spoke to the Captain, "you said that you came to fix the sword. Why would you go out of your way to do that for someone not of your standing? I don't want to hear that compassionate shit either, I want to know the honest reason why you're here and why you bothered to bring the fam with ya. Dodge the question and I might consider throwing you out, right now."

The not-too-subtle threat caused Shikyo to narrow her eyes at Omega's leader, and it even caused Shou and the Punisher to regard her with varying degrees of surprise. But it only caused Tsubasa to raise a curious eyebrow at her, her hostile tone mentally questioned. But he kept his cool. "Not of my standing?" He repeated with a slightly incredulous tone of voice, chuckling a little afterwards. "What do you think I am, some flaunt who waves his title around in exchange for something? I'm choosing to do this because I see potential in you. You've been put through so much and still came out, strong as ever. It's rare to see that kind of spirit within a group of criminals - or in this case, ex-criminals - like yourselves. All in all, I've grown to like you folk."

It was very briefly that Angelika flashed back to the words spoken to her by Captain Horikawa, when she had been critically wounded by his Lieutenant.

"As for the family?" The Captain continued on. "I didn't so much as bring them along so much as they came for the ride. We're just here for a get-together, and this whole sword business was simply a side quest I was looking to complete. If you don't believe that, then I don't really have much else to tell you."

"Tch," Mōka sputtered out unintelligibly, lifting her mug up to sip a few swallows, letting it drop to the table softly, "fine, you pass. It's not like I own the joint anyways..."

Her gaze purposely avoided her own mother, let alone her peers. The smooth talk and assured tone the Captain had made her realize she had targeted him wrongly, especially for reasons that she didn't know why. A sigh escaped her nostrils as she released her hold on the mug's grip.

"I'm going to call it quits for now," She declared, her bangs covering her eyes as her face became impassive. With a brief wave to those at the table, she slinked around the Captain and his wife towards the exit, wrapping her arms around her midriff as she exited the bar. The only thing anyone would see would be her crimson hair dancing in the light just before she walked slowly out of the establishment towards her quarters.

It was here that the Punisher paid particular attention to her.

For the most part, she had been a silent witness to the interaction between Tsubasa and her daughter. Her cheek rested in her hand, her elbow rested on the table and a glass of red wine rippled within a lightly bobbing hand. She had absorbed the outward emotions of Mōka with surprise and intrique, puzzled as to what exactly was eating at her. When she saw the woman take her leave, she was at first tempted to make her own leave to see what was wrong. But she was stopped by the feeling that maybe the young half-breed needed some alone time. In addition, she was confident that her daughter would confide to her what was troubling her if she really wanted to.

"You realize it, don't you?" Shou's voice, calm yet showing worry, caused her to divert his attention to him. He was looking at the doorway which Mōka had went through, frowning with his hands folded on the table. "She misses the presence of Karitori. It's written all over her face, and it's been that way ever since the first disappearance." He raised his folded hands up to face level, obscuring his mouth from his superior's view. "I'd be lying if I said it wasn't disheartening to see her in such a way."

"Disappearance?" The Punisher cocked an eyebrow, taking a sip from her drink. "You make it sound like the butch girl's gonna be gone forever."

"That may not be." Shou said softly. "But as it is, she may be gone for a long time. She isn't kachō when it comes to hiding emotions. The dim of light within the eye, the way the corners of her mouth twitch upon forcing a smile... Karitori's troubled by something great, and she took a leave of absence from V-14 in order to find out just what exactly it could be."

"I don't know about you," Shinji muttered, narrowing his eyes and scowling faintly. "But I find it to be a waste of time and emotions. Such things only get in the way of business and profession. It's exactly why Angelika initially put a restriction on such relationships within the organization. Why she lifted it, I will never understand..."

"I'll go talk to her." Shou decided, lifting himself up from the table and earning both the eyes of Shinji and the Punisher.

"You?" The Punisher repeated, regarding him skeptically. "And what makes you think she's going to say anything to you?"

"I won't know until I try, won't I?" With a small smile in her direction, Shou turned around and followed Mōka's path. "May I see you all later on?"

As he walked away, the Punisher let out a heavy sigh and looked away. "Damn that boy..." She grumbled under her breath. "Even throughout the hell you were put through after your demise, you still managed to hold your compassion close to heart. I'm surprised someone like you had even started out in a group like V-14." She gave a small smile and chuckle. "But I guess I can't complain. After all, people like you inspire hope within others, and that's something I've grown to like." She emphasized this with a small sip of wine.

"Go get 'er, hero. Aside from me, you just might pull it off..."

Mōka sat on her Queen sized mattress, deep in thought. Her eyes distantly stared at her folded hands, resting atop her lap, sitting in the room; a room she wanted to spend quality time with Karitori within. Beside her right hip was a letter, a note of farewell given to her just the night before. It kept her restless and made her regret things that she had done since meeting her. What was Omega without Karitori? What was she without her?

Picking the note back up, she re-read the letter for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Hey Mō,

''Sorry you have to hear it from me like this, not sure if you could tell or not (what with you being a god and all) but something's been eating away at me since we started this fucking war. Seems like my past caught up with me, and as much as I wanted to change it through bashing it in the face, it won't go away. I'm certain it'll catch up with me and interrupt what little peace we're sharing right now. I...I need to deal with this alone.''

''I'm sorry if it seems like I'm leaving you, which in all honesty it feels like it myself. But this is something I need to do on my own. I'm not a little girl anymore. I need to face my own problems in my own way. If I can't make it back then I wasn't meant to be the woman worthy of spending the rest of my life with you. If I can, then I will cross Hell and back to find you. Unless Hell actually takes me...then  you might need to rescue me (I won't mind that, actually, hehe). ''

''Wow, this is a lot to write down, I think my arm is cramping up. I've...fuck, I've never been good on goodbyes, you know that about me. But I just want to say goodbye now and hope to see you later. It was a wild ride and I loved every moment that I spent it with you. Please be safe and don't get yourself killed. ''

Yours till the end,

Kari..."

Tossing the letter back to her side, Mōka couldn't help but feel herself drift back into her state of deep thought. Nothing made sense to her anymore. What was the point of involving herself in the world of man? This wasn't the first lover who left her or was lost to her. Was any of this worth it? She was now starting to doubt her own state of being, and if she was truly worth anything to those who knew her.

"Who the HellI was kidding? Mother seems to be better at playing human than I can," Mōka thought bitterly as her eyes closed, rubbing her face with her hands as she let out a ragged sigh.

"I see that the wine of the festivity hasn't quite gotten to you."

The voice of Shou came to her ears, and his body stood in the doorway. His hands were folded behind his back and his overall stance emphasized that of a docile attitude. He had a bright and warm yet composed smile on his face as he regarded her, hopefully presenting an atmosphere inviting enough for talk. "At the very least, you seem to have the sense to realize that whiskey only acts as an aesthetics for the soul." He continued. "Mind if I come in?"

Hearing a voice call out to her, Mōka's eyes widened and her head jerked suddenly to the side. Upon seeing Shou's form, smiling and composed, her tension vanished as quickly as it came. Despite her previous loathing to any subordinate of her mother's, she held no ill will towards him. Having been a member of V-14 when alive, not to mention her mending relationship with her mother, she came to respect him a bit better than before. His presence brought a few questions up to her head, but those were dismissed, as she was too tired to bother asking someone else in a curt manner.

Instead, she settled with resuming her stare upon her lap. Twiddling her fingers, she sighed heavily. How was she supposed to explain this to him? Could he possibly understand? A great deal of doubt mingled with dread filled her mind, causing her to belay an answer to her guest standing at her door.

It had just occurred to her that she allowed no one but Karitori into her quarters. The fact someone was asking to be invited in felt like a knife stab into her heart, reminding her bitterly there was no special someone she was saving her home for. She had to bite her lower lip to keep it from trembling, forcing out a exhale through her nostrils to steady her voice.

"Sure," She said in a lifeless, dull tone, waving idly in his direction, "what's V-14's is everybody's, right? Help yourself in..."

Her dead tone of voice caused a flicker of hesitation to cross Shou's eyes. But he kept his cool, stepping inside and reaching behind him to shut the door. The last thing he wanted was anyone to barge in on them during what would most certainly be a personal talk. He took a few steps towards her until he was at a reasonable distance, close but not enough to invade a possibly expanded personal bubble. "Listen," He began. "I know that I am not the closest individual to you right now, nor am I in your eyes the best confidant. But I couldn't help but see that no one else noticed how you were. I figured that I'd at least try to fill in what the alcohol couldn't. So," His smile faded, but his empathy did not. "If you're willing to tell me, what's on your mind?"

Mōka was quiet for the longest time. Even as Shou approached her, she didn't know what to say or how to explain what she was feeling. Had it really been so long since she felt true turmoil and isolation? She had experienced sensations of this nature ages upon ages, mirroring the longevity that her own parents and siblings possessed. Surely she could handle something like this again? In truth she knew it didn't make its happening any easier, especially in the moment.

Looking over at Shou, she turned her fiery eyes back to dully look forward. With a heavy sigh, she began to talk in a quieter voice than normal, "How do you keep yourself together? I know what the Daitenshi are, what it takes to become what you are and the knowing you had to live through so much suffering. But I know that you're...different from the others. How do you stay so...hopeful as you are? I don't know how someone like you, who's lived the life that he has, and experienced the Hell literally and figuratively twisted your being. I want to know how and why you continue to live."

Shou furrowed his eyebrows at the question. "How and why do I keep myself together...?" He repeated, mulling the words over. It was a question that he never expected to surface and be directed towards his being. He averted his gaze away from Mōka in thought, finding himself looking at the floor. "Well, I suppose that question shouldn't be entirely unexpected. After all, the life of a Daitenshi enough is more than so to push one into the abyss of insanity, and yet I am still here. If I had to answer a question like that..." He paused and straightened himself up, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath to mentally prepare himself. He could put as much detail as he'd like into it, but he would have to start from the beginning.

That was all the back to the start of his life's journey.

"Ever since my childhood, my life was little more than life's psychological test." He said, his voice hesitant as his eyes opened. "I lived in the slums of the Rukongai, and as a child, I was constantly beaten and bullied by other children. On top of that, both I and my father had to deal with the constant threat of burglars, rioters and other criminals seeking to take advantage of the populace. There were so many times I asked myself that question, and eventually, I brought the question up to my father." He closed his eyes again briefly and shook his head, chuckling. "Naturally, he didn't take it too kindly. He scolded me, chided me for sounding so hopeless. I don't remember the exact words he said, but in general, he insisted that there was always a light at the end of the tunnel, and if there wasn't, we would make our own. That was one of the reasons that I didn't put a gun to my head or a knife to my throat before this moment. I had to keep reminding myself, but eventually, his words became second nature to me."

He placed his hands in his pockets and started slowly pacing, his expression demonstrating just how far he was going as he trekked down memory lane. "There were many times, though, that I had been brought to the brink of death courtesy of the Rukongai's obstacles. I had the chance to stop it all, end the pain and just slip away into a possibly more peaceful existence. But every time that opportunity was within my fingers... well...." He looked unsure of himself, and his hands folded in front of him with his thumbs twiddling. "It... just felt wrong, as if I was being mocked for letting all of my efforts waste away just like that. I would be sending myself to disgrace if I perished by my own hand. So I got myself back up and continued to fight my way through. Anyone else would've said that all I did was to delay the inevitable. But eventually, I found my light... and it came in the form of Lady Angelika and what would be the V-14."

He stopped pacing, lowering his hands and regaining confidence as he looked back at the Hankami. "The fruit of my preservation continued to grow when I was first sent to Hell. Even through the fire and flames, I still believed that there would be a light at the end of the tunnel, a reward for my survival. I had to evade the beasts, the executioners and endure everything thrown my way. But I made it, and I owe it to Hell's Queen for seeing me out." He spread his arms out slightly to motion to himself. "In spite of all that's happened, I managed to make it through a changed man, reformed and stable. And I may not know what your exact situation is, but I believe that just may be the case for you, as well."

"I see," Mōka said, having listened attentively, not commenting or retorting to anything he said. Looking at her lap, folding her hands into her lap she twiddled her thumbs. Sighing raggedly, she closed her eyes as she spoke, "you're a stronger person than I could ever be. Even in death you persevere and become stronger for it. You hold your ideals close to your heart and it keeps you whole, nourishing you into a stronger person. Me? I'm a damned coward who condemned by entire race due to a decision made by a single individual to cause mass genocide to my whole people."

Resting her head against the back of her folded hand, she continued to speak, the volume of her speech rising as well as its intensity, "Ever wonder why I never embraced my heritage as The Dominator? It's because I'm afraid. Every time I tried to reveal my true self to people I cherished ages upon ages, I've been rejected or it ends up killing them. Humanity has been my greatest weakness and my greatest attraction. I've killed, drank, sang, slept and celebrated with them no matter where I went. It didn't matter if they were mortals or if they were spirits. I loved and hated them with equal vigor, yet I couldn't stand my own kindred or my own bloodright."

Her voice grew further ragged, hints of tears beginning to swell within her eyes as she continued to spill her thoughts out, "But then, when my identity was revealed by a damned Demon I was prepared for ridicule, scorn, and hatred. My comrades instead...they were indifferent. Hell, they embraced it! For the first time in centuries I found a place I could truly be myself. V-14 truly became a group of people I could call my friends.

"Karitori...she was a tortured soul who didn't want any of the nightmares that was thrust upon her, ravaged of her childhood and turned into a monster. I welcomed her because she was so much like me and for some reason, she knew I was like her. When she found out the truth, as it was admitted, I expected her to turn away from me. She instead said I was always exposed to her, and it was all just words now. It was the biggest relief I've had and I could never thank her enough!

"And yet...she still leaves me. The one person I thought I could spend a long time with her, truly happy, just walks away. For what?! What dogma does she have that prevents me from helping her through this?! Why wasn't I good enough to be by her and even die for her?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!"

As Mōka shouted this, the entire room cracked and warped, her Shinsei unleashed in a raw form that swirled around like a maelstrom. It burned off of her, giving her the visage of a burning entity rather than a beautiful woman. Her eyes ebbed tongues of energy, her hair roared upwards in a infernal display, and her lithe form shined like solar light. Clearly unaware of this phenomena, Mōka continued to shout within the confines of her burning space, tears trailing scaldingly down her cheeks as she clenched her head, staggering back and forth in uneven steps.

"I'VE BEEN DAMNED THE MOMENT I WAS BORN! HAPPINESS HAS ONLY BEEN A BREATH AWAY FROM UTTER FAILURE! IN THE END, WHEN THEY'RE ALL GONE, I'LL BE ALONE! I'LL LIVE TILL THE END OF DAYS ALONE AND SUFFERING! MY LIFE IS HELL EVERY MOMENT I TAKE BREATH! I WISH DEATH WOULD TAKE ME SO I CAN'T FEEL THIS WAY ANYMORE!" Mōka gutturally shrieked, her own hands reaching up to choke on her own neck. The horrifying display of deified power and intent of suicide sent the note that was by her indented beside to scatter across the room. It fluttered near Shou's person, within arm's reach, as her being absorbed the light within her space and became the hellish pyre of her own demise.

It was a horrifying turn of events.

Shou's eyes widened and his form staggered against the sudden release of power from the Hankami. His pupils and irises contracted as he stared at the burning form of the woman, terror coursing through his veins. It wasn't just terror at being near such ferocious energies, but the terror of the woman's actions and words. She was in a state of complete instability, grieved over the disappearance of her loved one and fully intending to kill herself over it. Perhaps even the fear of her power was nonexistent over the fear of what she was attempting to do to herself. His mind desperately tried to work out something, anything, that could possibly stop her. But by this point, he figured she was far beyond words.

Then, the goodbye note floated towards him.

Even in the ensuing chaos, it caught his eye very quickly. His hand reached out and snatched it out of the air, bringing it up so that his eyes could scan it. It didn't take long for him to work it over, and he knew that he had been right in his guess. But to the Hankami, it seemed like Karitori had made her leave permanent despite the letter stating an eventual return. Had it not been for the current situation, he would've gladly told that viewpoint to Mōka. But as of now, he was dealing with a nuclear reactor seconds away from meltdown. He had to do something. He shut his eyes and clenched his teeth, his body tensing for the briefest of moments.

Then, he rushed forward with one word shouted from the depths of his throat.

"STOP!"

He didn't stop to think about it. Before he knew it, he was behind and upon her. His arms were a loop, latching around Mōka in a secure and tight embrace. When his body made contact with hers, he had to fight back sounds of pain as the flames licked at him. His form trembled in both pain and fear, and his breaths became more irregular by the second. As far as he knew, this was the only thing keeping her from destroying herself. If it didn't work, then he and the entire base would be at risk from getting destroyed by what would be an unintentional kamikaze.

Mōka's cries were halted the moment she heard Shou's voice overpower her own. Feeling his form embrace her, even as she burned of Shinsei, was something she didn't expect. Burning eyes dimmed, slowly regaining her composure. The fire that raged within the burnt room began to fade, retreating from whence it ushered forth. When he body dimmed in its glow, sweat covered her skin, complemented by heated vapor oozing from her pores.

"I-I...I'm sorry," Mōka apologized, her body quivering in his embrace, arms shudderingly fell to her sides. Her tears, long since dried up, left her eyes swollen and red. A look of grief crossed her visage as she croaked out her words, "I...I must seem so weak. The thought of losing something...even for awhile...tears me apart. I've lived for too long if something like this...bothers someone of my standing and authority so easily. No wonder my mother pictures me nothing more than a child. I'll never grow up, no matter how long I live in this world..."

"Is that really true?" Shou breathed, still keeping her within his embrace. Like her, he was shivering, but moreso out of the pain of being in close contact with her active Shinsei than his now dying fear. As his wounds began to regenerate, his shakes lessened. "If you really haven't grown up, then Karitori never would've seen anything in you to value like she does now. Are you sure you read that letter right? Because to me, it doesn't sound like a good-bye. It sounds like a plea for you to wait for her while she finds herself. When she comes back, she'll be able to help you just as you helped her. She wants to be strong for you, in the event that you're the one in trouble."

He tightened his grip a little to emphasize the urgency within his voice. "All you need is a bit of patience. She'll find her way back to you, no matter what happens. But, please...don't do this. You know that the last thing she would've wanted is for you to die, especially by your own hands..."

"How do you know that?!" Mōka hissed as she shivered in Shou's grip, her hands balling up at her sides as she looked up at the ceiling with tears in her eyes, "how do you know something won't befall her? This world is cruel, hard, and terrible. It was a miracle that she even survived in the first place! And now she wants to go after the past that nearly killed her?! That's suicide! How can you expect me to just sit back and wait, hoping that she'll return?! Such a mentality is for someone who's powerless."

Bowing her head, her grip slackened. She felt herself slide throug Shou's grip, leaning onto him limply as her face buried into his chest. Tears ran hotly down her face as she continued to hiccup and choke on her own grief.

"I'm so scared...she's the first real person I've cared about in so long. I'm scared I'll lose that and never find that happiness again," Mōka whispered, her body shivering with emphasized fright.

"You must have faith in her, Mōka." Shou insisted, his hands finding their way to her back. One of those hands daringly moved to the back of her head, his fingers burying themselves slightly in her hair. He chose to let her take her emotions out of him, ignoring the dim sound of footsteps in the hallway outside her dorm. "The very fact that she's still alive, even after all that's happened to her, must say something to you. If you truly love her, then put every ounce of trust in what she's doing. Trust that, without spot or wrinkle, she'll return to the spot beside you. But even if she doesn't, I believe that you will be the first to know."

Once the footsteps reached a certain point, they stopped. He continued to ignore them, fingers softly stroking the locks of crimson hair. "But you have to keep yourself together, let her know that you had the utmost confidence in her. What do you think she'll do, seeing you like this?"

"She'd kick my ass for it," Mōka chuckled between her sobs, just for once enjoying the embrace of someone who cared. Without any strength left she just lied in in Shou's arms, a tear-stained smile upon her face. If even for a little while it was good to have people to rely upon when those she cared for are out of reach. "I'll wait for you, Karitori. You better not make me wait for nothing either. Or I'll be the one to send you to Hell, dumbass!"

The Uncovered DCO, Well Needed Time Off
In the depths of the D.C.O. headquarters, a less emotional exchange was being dealt.

Former enemies had becomes current allies, as far as at least a few of the Inner Circle were concerned. More specifically, Valeur des Vents and his small squad of Fullbringers had given up their position as "Dogs" for the mercenary organization in favor of positions within the Deep Cover Ops. It was a chance to put their new found powers to good use, and not for the machinations that they had been made to go by courtesy of their leadership. It was also an opportunity to make new friends and allies, bringing themselves that much closer to redemption.

Braeburn and Kameyo were demonstrating the extent of the established bond via a hand-to-hand sparring match.

Kameyo was pressed back a few steps when Braeburn started off a few hand strikes. His moves were fluid, his limbs moving in conjunction with each other as he attacked in a demonstration of balance and peripheral awareness. His attack stopped only a second after it started, but it had the pale-skinned girl reeling for a given moment. Nevertheless, with timed blocks of her arms, she was able to keep herself from getting hit. After giving her a moment to regain her stance as well as his own, he had once again kept her on her toes with a burst of hand strikes, this time adding a kick when he felt she was distracted. Then, after letting her regain herself, he had let her produce her own counter-attack. Her style, which had previously been nonexistent due to her preference with sword combat, was attuning to his own. He was teaching her his way of fighting, which not only gave her footing with barehanded combat, but also improved her reflexes and enhanced her reaction time. One could note that his style was a deviation from Hana's, who had helped him hone his own skills.

Once he settled into a stance and gave her a small smirk of challenge, she readied herself and began an attack anew.

From there, it was an exchange of limbs and a push-and-pull match. By themselves, each fighter's movements were simple. But as they exchanged blows, their limbs became entangled in an illusion that made it almost impossible to decipher just what exactly they were doing. Kameyo was knocked down to the ground and pulled back up, only to recover a second later to continue the dance. Braeburn got kicked back and was forced to stagger, but regained his defense quickly before his opponent could rush him. It was a demonstration of just how deadly and frightening someone with their bare hands could really be.

"She really is something," Takashi murmured aloud, arms crossed and body donned in traditional matte black DCO leather. Seeing the flurry of limbs and repeated claps of skin parrying against each other made his skin tingle with excitement. Not only that but seeing a well known fighter like Braeburn be even, blow for blow, by the likes of the IC Dog was impressive in his eyes, "not saying that the guy is better than me, but I've never known him to be a slacker in Hakuda. He's certainly got a opponent in that ring."

"Of course," Valeur interjected, proudly wearing a smile as he wore his new DCO uniform, complete with his own X-shaped built-in straps for his spear shaped Zanpakutō. It looked more like a black conforming bodysuit with studded plating than simply a skin-tight spandex suit, as other less heavily built members would note. "Miss Kameyo is one of the best fighters I know. To face her you'd need the best to make her break a sweat, let alone give her a thrilling fight."

"Their speed is incredible," Choku noted, his glasses giving him special aid to track their movements and break them down in sequences he could fathom, "to think that they're dead even and exchanging blow for blow. I'd never win in a brawl with either of those two."

"Go-Go-Go, Kame-yo! Go-Go-Go, Kame-yo!" Rokotsu bobbed up and down, bubbly cheering on Kameyo with a childish expression on her face.

"Oi, shouldn't you be cheering for Brae-burns?" Yōki asked with an annoyed twitch, pointing at Braeburn's direction, or at least what she could tell was Braeburn's direction.

"What? Is it be cause you lik-OW!" Rokotsu found her head hammer-fisted, cutting her cheer and her protest off with a sputtering bout of pained gurgling.

"Watch what you're saying, dumbass!" Yōki snarled, heaving heavily with a blush overlapping her face, overlapping the flushness of rage that came with it simultaneously.

"B-But-!" Rokotsu whimpered, eyes tearing up and growing adorably big in Yōki's direction, "it's true!"

"Doesn't give you the right to blabber it in public, dummy!" Yōki insisted with another shout.

"Holy crap..."

Last but not least to give a reaction was Tenshina, who gazed at the two fighters with awe. His stare was particularly directed towards Kameyo, and with good reason. It had only been a short while since they had been assimilated into the D.C.O., but in that short time, the "cyborg" had picked up a lot from the rest. Seeing the girl perform an over-the-shoulder throw-down on her opponent demonstrated just how far she had advanced in the art of barehanded fighting. Along with the abilities of her Zanpakutō, she was shaping up to be a pretty powerful ally. "I can barely even see what kind of moves they're using..." He said, waving his hands around to express his amazement. "I mean, I was trained in that sort of stuff when I was a Mole, but there was nothing like this. Is that really Hakuda?"

Following this statement, Braeburn had caught Kameyo off-guard. A punch to the face had stunned her, giving the Australian just enough time to perform three kicks with one leg. In rapid succession, there was one delivered to the stomach, back of the knee and the face. He followed it up with a roundhouse kick to send her spinning to the ground. But thankfully, the force of his blows was not enough to keep her down for long due to her "enhancements", and she was quick to recover herself. As he threw himself towards her, he allowed himself to speak out. "C'mon, Dollface!" He called out, stern yet taunting. "I know that can't be the best you've got--"

However, he wasn't expecting her to perform the counter-attack of a more dirty method - hurling dust into his eyes.

"AGH--!!" He reeled back, shutting his eyes in alarm when the dust hit. "WHAT THE--!!"

But he wasn't given a chance to continue his exclamation, as Kameyo was on him again. His arms moved to swiftly parry hers, his senses still managing to pick up her movements. But his defense was only brief, and she managed to manipulate his actions to grasp an arm and shoulder. She brought him down, her knee smashing twice into his gut with unrelenting force. Had it not been for his own impressive durability, he would've been winded enough to end the fight right then and there. He managed to push away a third knee and break out of her grip and regain control enough to defend and counter-attack once more. It was clear that this particular sparring match wasn't the most gentle out of them.

"O-O-Oi! That's cheating!" Takashi shouted aloud, pointing accusingly at the ring.

"What is?" Valeur asked coyly.

"She used dirt to blind him! That's against the rules!" Takashi said with insistent arm waves.

"What rules? They're sparring, not having a honorary duel," Valeur said with a curious shrug.

"B-But-!"

"Takashi-san, I don't think you understand," Choku chided lightly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he did so, "this is a battle of attrition, not nobility. It's to see who can remain standing after enduring the other's attacks. That's why this contest is Last Man Standing and not, Don't Get Dirt In My Eyes."

"You're just going to gloss over the fact that his girlfriend just played dirty, aren't ya?!" Takashi snarled back.

"Let it go already," Choku said with a sigh.

And then, another move - one which would prove to be a bit more painful.

Although Braeburn was beginning to regain his ground again, Kameyo still found another opening before he could push her back completely. After redirecting blows from his upper limbs, she suddenly moved into a crouched position. Immediately, he attempted to grapple her head for a knee strike. But she was quicker, grasping the middle of his inner thigh and pushing against it to ruin his balance. As he staggered, she saw her opportunity. Her free hand balled into a fist, which was thrust towards the critical area.

Needless to saw, the Australian howled like a coyote on that blow.

Kameyo quickly got up and retreated as he collapsed to the ground, clutching his family jewels and rolling in a fetal position. She straightened herself up, looking on with a blank expression even as he started yelling profanities. "THAT IS SUCH BULLSHIT!!" He snarled, his eyes shut and his teeth clenched. "I CAN'T EVEN DO THAT TO YOU!!"

"One of the advantages of my "condition", fortunately." Kameyo replied calmly, folding her hands behind her back. "You should've been quicker."

"Had I known you were gonna hit me there, I would've-- agh...!!"

"Wow..." After giving a pained wince of his own, Tenshina couldn't help but snicker. "Didn't know you were into those kinds of girls, Valeur. Bet she's always on top, huh?"

"It usually ends up on our sides," Valeur said brazenly, smiling almost in a cheeky manner, "neither one of us can stand being under the other, so it's the only way to compromise, ha-ha!"

"I didn't need that image in my mind!" Takashi cringed, his face already blushing hotly.

Choku sighed, looking at Valeur with a sheepish smile, "That's one way to come out of the closet and admit things, Valeur-san."

"Honesty is the best course of action, Serah Choku," Valeur countered with a inclining of his head.

"Sometimes its best not to say anything," Choku retorted.

"Fair enough," Valeur chuckled lowly, returning his gaze back at the arena.

"I give..."

After managing to regain himself enough to speak, Braeburn raised one of his hands into the air in a sign of submission. He quickly lowered it down, pushing himself up to his hands and knees. "I'm not risking a punch to the goods again, not against you..." He breathed. He grunted as he felt Kameyo place hands on his shoulders and pull him up to his feet, steadying his stance once more. As he dusted himself off, he looked over at what had been their audience. "I hope you boys and girls learned something from this. In a real fight, there aren't any rules or regulations. If you have to grab a nearby beer bottle to smash over your enemy's head, do it. If you have to kick them into a meat grinder or a furnace, do it. If you have to step on groins, punch the milk jugs, pull shirts over the head or flip skirts, do exactly that. Because when you're out on the field, your life is on the line. Trying to be a gentlemen against an opponent will only get you killed."

"Valeur's still alive." Kameyo pointed out, her hands folded behind her back once again.

"And he's the only one I know that's gotten away with it." Braeburn answered, closing his eyes and giving an acknowledging nod.

"What a flop that was," Takashi groaned, his body leaning forward with visible depression laced into his features.

"What? You expected Braeburn to be the victor or did you want a girl to not be the winner?" Choku pried.

"It's just not fair! She played dirty!" Takashi whined aloud, flopping his arms around childishly.

"Serah, based on your reactions, you most likely have done the same in her position given the chance," Valeur commented with an upraised brow.

"Shaddup!" Takashi gestured profanely at Valeur as he said so, stomping away from the arena to leave the place proper. Instead of making a gallant exit he found himself bumping into Head Captain Hana, his head knocking into hers. With the latter only slightly hurt, Takashi howled as he backed up and fell on his back with audible pain.

"Geeze, I come down here and you immediately attack me?!" Hana hissed as she rubbed the front of her head.

"Me?! You're the one who appeared out of nowhere you-!"

"Hana-chan!" Rokotsu cut Takashi off, leaping in the air and tackling Hana to the ground. Comedically smothering her in her welcoming embrace, Takashi was left to be picked up by the collar by Yōki herself. Rolling her eyes she walked over to greet Hana while leaving a inaudibly cursing Takashi behind.

"What was going on? A sparring match?" Hana asked, pushing away Rokotsu's childish advances of cuddling her intimately.

"Just finished one," Yōki said with a sigh, pointing her thumb over at Takashi and over his now squatting frame towards Braeburn whom was still recovering, "Kameyo, from the new Reserve Squad, just finished laying the beatdown on his jewels. Poor bastard was evenly matched till she decided that playing dirty was the best method to end it quick."

"I see," Hana narrowed her eyes, huffing with disappointment. Trotting past her associate, clad in her Haori and standard Shikhakushō, she called out at Braeburn in a rebuking manner from the top rampart of the makeshift arena, "what's the matter, she hit you too hard in the balls?! I thought you were tougher than that, Brae-san!

"I like my balls, Shiela." Braeburn narrowed his eyes and frowned at Hana as she approached. He folded his arms across his chest in an idle stance. "I like them whole, and I like them very much intact. I don't like the risk of getting them punched in repetitive succession in a simple sparing match. I'm sure that you would say the same if someone took to kicking you in the snatch over and over again, wouldn't you?"

"In addition, we were not evenly matched." Kameyo spoke up again. "Braeburn had a distinct edge over me in terms of direct combat, and would've eventually overwhelmed me had I not resorted to more pragmatic actions. Regardless, I do apologize in the event that I unintentionally made him sterile, or the event that any probable children between you possess defects due to unborn blunt force trauma."

Braeburn's response to that was to give her the finger, which she promptly ignored.

"Ah, whatever," Hana dismissively shook her head. Looking around, she crossed her arms and asked, "so, is that it? Were you all hyped just to see Kameyo and Brae-san fight?"

"Essentially, it was to see which of our Aces in the Hole were better," Choku said with honest smile, pressing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "the entertainment of seeing those two go at it was enough to break us away from our own training and mundane duties. After all, Braeburn and Kameyo proved themselves to be the strongest of their squads, right? What better way to settle who's squad is stronger than pit their two strongest members against each other?"

"I see," Hana nodded with understanding.

"Hey! I'm by far the strongest of the squad!" Takashi claimed with a sudden jump back onto his feet, pointing at himself with insistency, "don't compare me to Burnside over there!"

"He's a lot stronger than you, if I recall correctly," Hana responded snidely, looking over her shoulder at him with a expression of unimpressment, "you couldn't even lay a finger on him. With or without a kick to the crotch."

"HA! As if!" Takashi growled out, his being filled with passion that overrode common sense. Turning dramatically towards the arena, Takashi pointed brazenly at Braeburn while shouting at the top of his lungs, "I CHALLENGE YOU, BURNSIDE, TO FIGHT ME ONE ON ONE!"

"He's going to get his ass kicked," Rokotsu said matter-of-factly with fish lips.

"Most likely," Yōki whispered aloud, sighing to herself as she dragged a hand over her face, "men and their egos having to get involved. I swear Takashi is going to die a proud fool one day..."

"One on one, huh?" Braeburn's irritation faded to bemusement when the challenge was verbally issued to him. He cocked an eyebrow and frowned slightly, although he didn't look as if he was going to reject the challenge outright. "Well, I guess I still got energy in me for another go..." He commented, looking over his shoulder and gesturing politely for Kameyo to step out of the ring. "All right, Takashi. I accept. What are the rules?" He followed this up by working out his shoulders and neck, hopping from foot to foot in a show of warming himself up.

"Ace in the hole..." Tenshina repeated, looking over to the original D.C.O. operatives. He made sure to keep his voice low so that Takashi couldn't hear him. "Just how strong exactly is this Braeburn guy in comparison to the rest of you guys, anyway?"

"He's trained with the current Head Captain, not to mention is something of a lover of hers," Yōki explained with a wave of her hand, eyeing Takashi as he leaped off the observing balcony to impact the ring below with bare feet. As she watched him crack his knuckles methodically, glaring hard at Braeburn, she went further on, "of the whole squad, he's the only one with a Bankai that I know of. That's just a testament to his total Spiritual Power of course. His stamina and physical power is something you've already seen for yourselves firsthand."

"And your friend, Takashi?" Valeur asked with an upraised, curious brow of his own.

"He likes to think he's strong," Rokotsu said plainly, sighing as she crawled on her stomach to peek over the edge of the observing balcony at the ring below, "but he's not as strong as Braeburn. At least, I think he's not..."

"Well, this certainly doesn't bode well for our loud-mouthed friend," Choku said with a chuckle.

"It will be interesting. Ever since Brae-san entered DCO, Takashi has been making himself out as a self proclaimed rival of his. I never seen him act on it till now. Must have been boiling up to this point this whole time," Hana said in a bemusing manner, arms crossed over her own chest as she watched from above.

Beyond the point of no return, Takashi didn't bother listening in on the conversations littering about behind and above his head. Instead he pointed at Braeburn, saying specifically his rules, "KO. The first one to be knocked out loses and the one last standing is the victor. That easy enough for you to wrap around your head, Burnside?!"

At this point in time, Braeburn was hopping from foot to foot in a boxer's dance, his fists balled up and readied to swing. "Oh, sure, it's easy enough for me to, Straws." He commented in a casual and subtly taunting manner, stopping his dance and settling into a more preparatory stance. "But what about you? Because I doubt you'd be able to wrap something around your head if you're going to lose it in the next few seconds..." He emphasized this with a sly smirk, using a nod and glance of his eyes to gesture down towards himself.

"And it begins," Hana murmured out.

One insult too soon, and Takashi found himself flying forward. Propelled by a burst of Shunpo, Takashi swiftly appeared beside Braeburn, left hand already outstretched to uppercut his chin. Following the momentum of his own punch, the straw-hat lifted himself into the air, snapping his leg up to kick at his chest. Flipping backwards, he'd find himself back onto his feet, squatted and fist raised in a style similar to a kickboxer's.

It was thanks to picking up from his encounter with Jaken Jōdan that Braeburn had learned to anticipate movements masked by Flash Step.

The smirk was quick to vanish when he saw the fist move from his peripheral. He moved his head back in order to avoid it, his opponent's knuckles nearly grazing his face. His hands moved, grasping the shoulder and the forearm before bringing them both back down to earth. From what he could tell, Takashi's movements were aiming for unpredictability and irregularity. But at the same time, his wide and sweeping motions were risks to being unbalanced. For a more tactical opponent, disarming and incapacitating him within a few seconds would've been possible. But the Australian, in a fight like this, wanted ending it quickly to be the last thing on his mind.

When he brought Takashi back down to the ground, he used the hand gripping the shoulder to deliver a chop to the side of the neck. Its connection prompted him to fluidly move into another attack, bending his legs and rounding the hand on the forehand. It balled into a fist, striking Takashi in the kidney. Another swift motion brought his other hand to Takashi's flank, and a palm strike into the midpoint between where his ribs stopped and muscle began. He made sure to restrain force so that his opponent would only be staggered by the attacks rather than knocked across the room. To finish off his set of movements, he threw a high kick towards Takashi's face in an attempt to push him before he could completely recover.

Takashi received hit after hit. The chop to his neck caused him to cough aloud and his eyes bulge, his vision blurring. The next hit caused him to keel over, grimacing with the impact. When the third strike hit him in the rib laced muscle, he gagged aloud and stumbled backwards. When the last kick came, he narrowly threw up his arms to block it, feeling himself stagger back and tumble head over heels from the force. By the time he rose back up into a sprawled crouch, Takashi had his left eye close and right eye glaring up at Braeburn.

"You're quite flexible, Burnside!" Takashi grumbled out, wincing as he stood up.

"Don't die, Taka-baka!" Rokotsu shouted from the pew.

"SHADDUP!" Takashi barked back, eyes whiting out and his head enlarging briefly for comedic effect.

Recomposing himself, Takashi set his sight back at Braeburn. Adjusting his stance to be more upright and hold up his hands in a more upright posture, as if he was begging for something with open hands. Staring seriously at Braeburn, he began to come up with a plan of attack to catch his opponent off guard. What it was and what did he intend to do, was still unclear, even to those who know him.

"I'll let you get your breath back."

Braeburn broke what would've been a brief silence with a taunt, following it up with a coy smirk as he shifted his arms. He kept shifting them, almost as if he was constantly uncomfortable with his stance. But in short, he was simply keeping himself on the move while keeping Takashi from reading him too quickly. Truth be told, he expected it to happen anyway. After all, the man wasn't a part of the D.C.O. for nothing. Despite the often reckless attitude he carried with him into combat, he could use his brain when he wanted to. Whether or not it would affect the outcome of this match was still left in the air, however.

True to his word, the Australian didn't attack him right away. He simply waited patiently for the other man to make his move, wondering just what was about to commence.

After twenty seconds of waiting, Takashi came up with his attack plan.

"Let's see how you handle this, Burnside!" Takashi thought, silently raising his arms up in a guarding posture, locking them together to have his elbow up to his clenched fists hide his face. In a single Shunpo, Takashi appeared before Braeburn, almost a single meter away. Without gesturing with his shoulders or face, Takashi swung up his right leg to perform a quick snap kick. Using the first attack as a feigning gesture, he bent his outstretched leg while bending his standing left one. With his elbows parting and sliding across his sides, the straw-hat adorned Shinigami unfurled his fists till only his knuckles clenched on the other recesses of his palms. Being so close and using the first attack as a distraction, he knew the likelihood of his opponent dodging this attack was slim.

Kicking off the ground, his body thrust forward along with his palms, rapidly closing the distinct to impact Braeburn's ribs on either side of his sternum. Enough force was placed that he'd cause a dramatic clap of flesh meeting muscle, making it quite audibly painful to all that heard his initiative. Should his attack land, Takashi would roll to his left, returning back to his defensive and ready posture with a stern look upon his face.

"!"

It was a move that Braeburn hadn't been entirely expecting.

When Takashi reappeared before him, his hands immediately shot forward to grasp his wrist and restrain him. But his movement caused himself an opening for the true attack. When the leg was thrust forward, he found himself jerking back and throwing his hands down to parry the kick downwards. As he stepped back, it gave room for his opponent to thrust forward. He shot his arm out at a right angle, shifting in order to stagger Takashi's roll. But at the same time, he couldn't completely divert the fists from striking his ribs. It was a blow he felt, but certainly nothing to slow him down. It would end with the two combatants making their distance away from each other, with the Australian settling back into a stance.

Even so, he couldn't help but cock an eyebrow at the rather serious look on Takashi's face. "Being awful quiet, Takashi..." He commented. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were taking this a bit more seriously than expected."

"Fighting someone of your caliber, is something to be serious about, Brae-baka!" Takashi retorted with a vivid glare.

"He really is taking this seriously," Yōki said with widened eyes of surprise, her hands gripping the railing tightly, "was he...always this intense about his rivalry? I thought he was just joking around till now-!"

"He still won't win," Rokotsu said with a bored tone, looking down at the arena with dull eyes, "even if Takashi acts serious, there's no way he'll win against Brae-san."

"Maybe, or maybe not," Hana said with a whisper, cupping her chin with intrigue as she looked onwards, "one won't know till its over, right?"

"Man, this fight is already getting me pumped," Choku said with a smile, adjusting his glasses to create a gleam from his lenses.

"Let's see, Serah Takashi, what you're made of then," Valeur concurred with a nod of his own.

Even as those remarked and commented about the fight, Takashi went on the offensive once again.

Assuming the same stance as before, arms upright and covering his face like a shield, he approached Braeburn in a trio dash of Shunpos. Pistoning his arms forward, he shadow boxed the air as an attempt to throw off Braeburn's sight of his lower body rising up in a pendulum manner. When he made a fully horizontal angle, he bent his forward body down, throwing his legs up and over to axe kick over on Braeburn's head and shoulders with a powerful downward propulsion.

Turning around on his supporting palms, Takashi issued a flurry of windmill kicks, spinning his ankles around to repeatedly whip at Braeburn's jaw and upper body. His own form was a blur of motion, almost appearing like a black and brown spinning top with his hat being the bottom of the man-sized playtoy. When he finished his barrage of attacks, he leaped back onto all fours, breathing steadily long breaths to regain his posture for defense or attack.

"He really wants to beat me."

That was the prompt for Braeburn's expression to gain a surprised edge to it. Truth be told, he believed their rivalry to be on a friendlier scale considering that they were on the same side. But as he saw the glare projected by Takashi, he realized immediately that there was more to it than met the eye. To Takashi, Braeburn was the strongest obstacle that stood between him and becoming the best. It changed how he anticipated the fight; he was going to keep himself held back and give tips on how he could've improved that fighting style of his. But now, he had to accept the weight of the situation. If Takashi wanted to treat him as an opponent he had to beat at all cost, he would gladly be that boss.

With that thought in mind, his eyes lidded and he gave a small, entertained smirk. It wasn't just a smirk of smugness or arrogance, but rather, it was the smirk of a man amused - something that would've been more fitting for the likes of a manipulative villain.

When Takashi unleashed the trio of Flash Steps, he was more than ready. As he swung his arms out to block the punches his opponent threw his way, he caught the movement of the legs. He retreated a few steps when Takashi bent down, raising his arms to prevent the swinging legs from colliding with their targets. He had to back up again when the "windmill" commenced, but stood his ground immediately after. He kept far enough to evade, but close enough to keep himself within arms reach. When Takashi's front was turned to him, he thrust his hands out and caught the offending limbs by the ankles before kicking his upside-down capture in the chest in order to knock him on his stomach. He immediately let go when his opponent was floored, bending down and grasping a fistful of Takashi's uniform tightly. With considerable strength and an exerting yell, he hauled the man back up and off his feet in what looked like a judo throw back to the ground. To finish his set of attacks, he lifted his leg and made to stomp at one of Takashi's joints. This time, it would carry enough force to dislocate Takashi's leg and incapacitate him for a knock-out.

It was a more rough step compared to his initial movements. But, how exactly could he let Takashi know he was taking him seriously otherwise?

Takashi knew it was a gamble to do a continuous attack from the get-go, but as the old saying goes about gain with pain, he couldn't let the opportunity go. Even as felt himself grunt with the painful kick striking his stomach to knock him to the ground he quickly thought up what he could do to return back to the offensive. When his body was sent flying over Braeburn's head and hurtling towards the arena floor again, he found his solution.

At the moment of hitting the floor, he slammed his ground postured side's palm, absorbing the force and reducing the impact. Even as the skin along his hand stung, it saved him from being disoriented at the point of Braeburn's executionary blow. When the stomp came, Takashi swiftly placed both hands on the ground and flipped himself away from the heavy curb kick. When the third twirl allowed him to get into a crouching tap onto the ground, he quickly kicked forward, positioning his right arm forward to spearingly jab his elbow towards Braeburn's neck and sternum.

Not only this, but he followed up with a knife hand swipe to get him at the base of his jaw meeting said neck before reaching out with his left palm to grasp the front of his uniform. To finish, he threw a knee towards his solar plexus and rammed his forehead towards the other man's at the same time. Should he had landed any of those moves, Takashi was to choose backpedaling a few meters to gain some distance and regain the breath he sorely needed.

Block.

Takashi's elbow met Braeburn's as he swung his arm to block the the first attack. Bone met bone, and a loud popping noise was heard as a result of the collision. The momentum Takashi had gained in his jump made the Australian reel back a little, but it didn't stop him raising his arm to parry the knife strike made towards his neck. As the man reached out to grasp his uniform, his other hand moved to shove it upwards. But before it could go too far, the hand that had parried away his opponent's first arm pulled back, racing over the other and joining its companion to hold the grasping arm in a brief lock. It cleared a path to Takashi's chest, to which Braeburn took the opportunity by bending his inward arm and throwing his own elbow to strike it. It would finish his set of attacks, and he leaned away to settle back into a comfortable stance.

The reason he had not pressed the attack was the hitch he heard in Takashi's breath. It caused him to give a smirk, and he straightened himself up. "Feeling the heat already?" He taunted, keeping the smirk on his face. He turned his body, his feet carrying him slowly as if he was to circle his opponent. "Still fresh into this, and I've had to let you regain your breath twice. If this warm-up's getting you tired this quickly, then maybe you should just call it a day, eh?"

"Shut up!" Takashi's face grew red and flushed with anger, the breath that sounded hitched held a more seething quality to it. Even now his fists tightened at his sides as he glared on at his teammate and rival. It wouldn't be before too long that small amounts of vapor began to simmer from his very pores, his skin starting to emit sweat and a audible thrum of his own Spiritual Pressure. "you act so smug, thinking you're the best and that no one can touch you? Just because you got to screw the current De Facto leader and that you got to be in the thick of it that you're some hero?! Well guess what?! All I see is a tool that doesn't know when to shut up!"

Slamming his foot down forward, Takashi sent a fissure of force large enough to split the arena down the middle right underneath Braeburn's footing. Ripping his foot out of the cracked slabs of artificial earth, Takashi leaned down and crouched on his toes to fingertips. With a sporadic burst of speed and force, Takashi thrust his body out at the intentionally disjointed Braeburn, using his head to hit him with the force of a speeding armored truck.

It was a move that shocked almost everyone within the vicinity.

The smug expression was wiped off Braeburn's face when he felt the spiritual pressure emit from his body and he heard the rather scathing words directed towards his person. He stopped in his tracks as he registered them both, a chill being sent down his spine. Even though he knew Takashi was serious, he still believed this to be within the limits of a simple sparring match. But from the way it was turning out, the straw-hat D.C.O. operative seemed more and more willing to beat the crap out of him rather than simply knock him out. A bit of fear crossed through him, not for himself but for how far this fight would actually go.

Then, once he registered them fully, anger began to set in.

Takashi was making it sound as if he was holding his relationship with Hana over his own head like a trophy - one of two reasons why he found his blood start to boil. Had he not been so concerned with the thought, he would've spared a glance at her to see how she reacted to it. The second reason was the accusation of believing he was a hero. It was quite the opposite; compared to the likes of Daisuke and the more noble members of the Gotei 13, he was no hero. As Yōki had said, he always stood between good and evil and teetered between both sides like a ping-pong ball. That particular statement was an insult to his character. But the last sentence was the final nail in the coffin.

A tool.

Of course, he wouldn't get to show this anger right away when Takashi attacked.

Still reeling over from the shock of Takashi's fury, he managed to leap aside before the fissure could hit him. His eyes had fallen over to the burst of power, stunned beyond all belief that the sparring match had escalated to this much. So lost in his shock that when he noticed Takashi's form racing towards him, he could only swing his head to meet the opposing one. As a result, their foreheads collided with a resounding bang. Braeburn let out a yelp as he was sent flying back, but recovered himself quickly. A backflip allowed the soles of his feet to catch the ground and himself to slide to a stop in a runner's starting position. His head was hung and his bangs overshadowed his eyes. But even from the created distance, Takashi would see that his mouth had contorted into a considerably feral snarl, his clenched teeth exposed. He slowly stood up, raising his head to glare at his foe.

"Oh, hell no." His voice had lost its taunt, gaining a low and venomous tone of voice as he spoke. His fists clenched tightly, and he slightly shook his head from side to side as if nonverbally warning Takashi. "You did not just go there, Straw Boy. You did not just say that."

"O-okay, uh..." Tenshina was the first to speak up from the audience, his eyes widening in a show of shock and worry. "Is anyone else finding this to be a little too heated all of a sudden? Shouldn't we stop this or something?"

Bokujin would find that he'd be the only one standing upon the balcony. When Braeburn had begun to raise his Spiritual Pressure in response to Takashi's blunderous jab to his character, following the splitting of the arena itself by the latter, was when the context of a friendly sparring match had ended. It was about to get ugly, and everyone wanted to prevent that.

"Yeah! I said it! And I'll say it again yo-GUH!" Takashi found himself cut off as Yōki promptly appeared beside him, punching him across the face hard enough to send him spiraling away. Before he could tumble too far away, Rokotsu appeared and lariated his backside with an outstretched arm, all with an unamused expression crossing her face. Falling to the ground, he wheezed out as the orange haired girl sat on his back, pinning him to the ground with a pouted expression on her lips, leaning into her own hands with a sigh. "g-g-get off me!"

"You ruined your fight, Taka-Baka," Rokotsu groaned, "why did you have to make it so personal?"

"Cause it IS personal, you bi-guhcan'tbreathe!"

"Shaddup, Taka-Baka!" Rokotsu growled as she bounced a few times onto his back. Surrounding him, if not but to keep alert but to keep the peace, was Choku and Valeur, both of which had their hands out in clenched fashion. They kept their gaze on the dimming complexion of Takashi, watching it revert back to a normal color as his steam stopped emanating from his pores.

"It seems that whatever rage Takashi tapped into has run its course," Choku noted audibly, examining the effects through his special lenses on his glasses.

"Tis a shame Serah Takashi had to end a fight in such an unsavory fashion," Valeur said with a reluctant sigh.

"You and me both," Choku nodded with agreement, adjusting his glasses as he spoke.

Having turned from decking Takashi, Yōki looked over at Braeburn. Sympathetically she tried to smile at him, approaching him cautiously while speaking in a softer tone, "You okay, Brae-san? That headbutt looked like it should've hurt and Takashi was being an ass on top of it..."

Thankfully, Braeburn was only briefly taken back by the intervention of his allies.

As Yoki turned towards him, he was suddenly aware of the anger that must've been showing right then. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, his fists slowly relaxing and clenching. Fighting the sensation of his accelerated heart, he opened his eyes to look at the blonde with a stern stare. "I'll live." He said simply. "It was a nice attack, but it's nothing I can't bounce back from. I'll be fine." He was quick to return to a glare as he looked at the pinned Takashi. "As for him, however? I believe he needs a bit of a talking to..."

He proceeded to storm towards the spot where Rokotsu held his personal opponent. "Now, I can take the insults, Takashi." He hissed, his fists tightening once more. "I can take your punches and kicks. Hell, even that "tool" comment I could push aside. But slandering her? That's a one-way a ticket to making me an enemy." He stopped in front of the other man, squatting down to nearly his level and looking him in the eye. "She fought a hard battle and sweat like a pig alongside the rest of us, fought to take back what had been stolen from all of us. If you want to make an enemy out of me, then fine. But try to use her to get to me again, and I won't give you a chance to take it back. Are we clear?"

By this point in time, a passive Kameyo and a flustered Tenshina had made their way over to watch the scene up close.

It took awhile for Takashi to mull over what was said to him. Part of him loathed Braeburn for not only stealing the spotlight of the team, but becoming such a bigshot that he was entirely overshadowed by his deeds among the organization. Not only that, but how many missions had he partaken in that helped the Soul Society in the long run? Not many that can be remembered, he knew that much was certain. Was he being petty? It certainly seemed like a lot of people thought that way of him.

Regardless, as he angled his gaze towards an impassively staring Hana, he felt a wave of guilt overlap him. She had been one of them for as long as he could remember. Even if he was being catered to by Kaze or the late Head Captain, she always treated them as if she was a fellow agent. She never held her power over their heads and always looked for ways to work with them. Targeting her was a mistake and one he now knew he'd have to live regretting.

"Crystal," Takashi groaned, looking at him in an irritative manner, "now can you please move the ox that's sitting on me?"

"I should have brought my sword-"

"You sitting on me isn't helping my view of you, Rokotsu!" Takashi wailed from underneath, though wasn't affecting Rokotsu in the least.

"All right, I think he gets the point. You can get off of him now." Notably for a person that wasn't officially a leading operative, Braeburn's statement seemed to have a rather commanding tone about it. It wasn't anything new, as far as he was concerned. Yōki was supposed to be the acting leader of their squad, but there were moments that she would remain silent. So he took it upon himself to take the reins in those situations. So far, no one complained about it. But as of now, he'd get a sinking feeling that would change with Takashi.

"You heard him, Rok-chan. Off the ox-headed man," Yōki motioned with a nod, causing Rokotsu to stand up almost with a bounce. The sounds of cracking being emitted as Takashi stood, however, was far more distracting than Rokotsu's bubbly nature. Turning to look at Takashi's grimacing face, she sighed belatedly, "and please fetch some ice and bandages while you're at it. I think you might have broken Takashi's back-"

"I don't need your pity!" Takashi growled at Yōki, causing her to recoil slightly at the venom in his words. Turning his eyes to glare back at Braeburn, he hobbled over till he was more or less eye level with him once again, "this isn't over, McTavish! I may have pushed my luck by speaking out of turn, but it doesn't change the fact that you've turned into a De Facto leader among this organization. Not even the damned Captain Commander said a word during his, and why should she?! You're her precious Braeburn after all! What am I?! I'm worth less than shit, only an expendable shock trooper only good for laughs. In this fight, I now see where I stand in this group. No need to call you or any one of ya a friend of mine."

Turning away, Takashi limped off the shattered ring, heading into the nearest exit to leave everyone gawking in his wake.

"T-Takashi!" Rokotsu called out, her eyes wide and her voice filled with alarmed concern. Before she could make a few steps, Yōki lifted an arm to halt her run, shaking her head sagely.

"Let's give him some breathing space right now. He obviously took this exchange a little too heatedly. Maybe in a few hours we can approach him, but for now, let's let him sit on his ass and think what he's said," Yōki said with finality, causing Rokotsu's head to lower and sniffle with sadness.

"It seems that Serah Takashi has a case of inferiority complex," Valeur piped in lowly, crossing his arms to look after his retreating frame.

"Seems like there are things these people didn't know were going on till now. Bottled up feelings only now erupting can make anyone confused and uneasy," Choku commented while adjusting his glasses.

"Tis what caused this bout of questioning in his self-worth, I can only wonder," Valeur bowed his head, sighing with questioning.

Hana, in the meantime, found it most prudent to approach Braeburn now. Walking forward she grasped at his left hand with her right, clearing her throat so he could look to her. Forcing a smile, she whispered quietly, "Sorry I hadn't done anything sooner. I hadn't realized how bad this could have gotten till it happened. Kind of stupid of me not to use my executive power to stop these kind of things, huh?"

It was a good thing his back was turned to her - otherwise she would've seen it.

Instead of anger and indignation at Takashi's choice of words, a part of which dominated Tenshina's face as he gaped at Takashi's retreating back, Braeburn was filled with shock. He had been careless to assume that Takashi had simmered down completely at that moment. He hadn't expected such harsh words to be spat out at him or any of the surrounding people, for that matter. It couldn't have been his simple battle batter that could've done it. It had to have been something that occurred long before the spar, though he'd be lying if he said he could pinpoint when. He never thought Takashi had so much animosity within himself to this moment. But it had, and the words spit in his face had cut a wound in him that ran deeper than any punch or kick could.

So shellshocked was he that he jumped a little at Hana's hand grasping his. But he relaxed when he saw who it was. He gave a soft sigh and shook his head. "No..." He muttered. "It's fine. I don't think any of us saw it coming. Besides, it's probably better for it to be vented out now than later. Who knows what would've happened if he blew up in the middle of a combat situation?"

"Yeah, you're right about that," Hana murmured lowly. Pulling him along, she smiled genuinely as she led him past the other gossiping DCO members, saying aloud, "alright, party's over! You can go turn in your reports and await further instructions from Captain Sasayaki. Ensure that nothing is left unchecked so you don't incur his anger."

"Does that mean-"

"It seems, Serah, that we're being ordered to go back to work," Valeur interrupted Choku, sighing with a roll of his eyes. Nodding to Kameyo, he smiled and urged her to join him at his side as he began to walk away from the crumbled arena himself, "let's get going then. Wouldn't want to have that scary Captain to get angry at us, would we?"

"Fine then," Choku said with a smile, waving to Bokujin to come hither, as he too fell in line.

"You heard'em, Rok-chan," Yōki urged as well, smiling down at the downcast orange-haired girl, "let's be on our way. We'll pay a visit Takashi after we finish our normal duties, okay?"

"Okay," Rokotsu said, forcing herself to cheer up with a forceful slap to her own cheeks. In seconds she was giggling in step with Yōki, joined by the rest that began to shift out of the ruined arena. She could only wonder who was going to clean up the mess...

A Pleasant Surprise, The Family Get-Together
It was a little less than an hour later, and Braeburn was on his own.

Dressed in a black-sleeve long-sleeved T shirt and jeans, he was strolling down the streets of Seireitei with his hands folded behind his back and a nostalgic look on his face. It felt like forever to stroll down the streets of the Soul Society again, free and unhindered by any criminal records falsely placed on him. It was a comfortable feeling, not being hounded by the law. The only thing he would truly miss would be his happenings in Tendan; although he wasn't proud of it, he enjoyed the activity known as fighting - something that had been shared with the majority of his family.

And speaking of which...

"Hey, laddie!"

The sound of his father snapped his attention towards a nearby sidewalk cafe. There, he could see his father, who was waving to him from a table. Accompanying the elder McTavish was also his mother and sister, the latter of which gave a smaller wave in his direction. Haralson continued to speak. "It's about time you made it!" He cheered. "Was the scenic route too much for you to resist?"

"It was all right." Braeburn answered, approaching the table and standing beside it. "Truth be told, it'd be a lot better if there weren't so many people out on the streets." He directed his attention over towards a bar not too far off from their position. "He still in there?"

"Hasn't moved from his spot yet." Although Haralson scoffed, there was a subtle hint of concern in his voice as he looked towards the bar. "And the last time I peeked in there, he's had quite a lot of kegs and bottles in front of him. He's been hittin' it harder than usual, and that's saying something."

"It pains me to know he's like this." Evelyn muttered, shaking her head. "Although I understand it was for good intentions, I didn't like waiting out here and keeping our presences a secret from him."

"Ah, don't worry, Eve!" Haralson gave her an assuring grin, despite her not being able to see it. "We're all here now, and once we go in there, he's gonna start singing Dixie again. Come on," He brought himself to stand up from the table, giving a nod towards the rest of his family. "Let's go say hi to Jack. Remember the plan. I go in first, then you kids, and then Eve. Don't wanna ruin any surprises here, got it?" After receiving nods, he gave a nod in return. "Good. You'll know when to come in."

With that being said, he straightened himself up and approached the bar.

"HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!" Jack "The Wallaby" McTavish laughed heartily from within the bar. In his hand lied a gloriously sized mug, fill to the brim with suds of alcholic beverage. Beside him along the counter lied a number of empty ones, including a whole barrel of tap beer that had once rested behind the said counter. A number of unconscious bodies were lying astrewn on the floor, looks of drunken stupor plastered over their faces, with equally empty mugs in their hands.

"This is some kind of dream, right?" The Bar manager thought aloud, scratching his balding head complementing his rotund figure, "that was Tendan Spill, a drink that's supposed to render you into a mad fit or keel over into unconsciousness before the first mug is empty. Yet he's drank a whole barrel and six mugs of it already! What kind of iron clad gut does he possess that he can just simply drink so much?"

"Oi, Barkeep!" Jack insisted with a wave of his half drank mug at him, a crimson tinge alight underneath his eyes, showing the signs of drunkeness already starting to affect his mind, "give me so-moar of yer gewd stuff, will ya laddy? I need to drink for victory and my sorrows at once! Not just pull that off! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"

"R-Right, in just a minute," The Barkeep rubbed his hands nervously, turning towards the door and saw a man enter his bar. Seeing that he was a customer, he knew it was better to help him first before attending to the matter at hand. Smiling, he rid himself of his unnerved expression and waddled over to the end of the counter to greet him near the door, "welcome, welcome! Thank you for coming by my establishment! What can I help you today with?!"

This was the opportunity for Haralson to see if Jack recognized him by voice alone.

He folded his arms across his chest and used a hand to cup a chin, eyeing the drinks scattered across the table as well as the unfortunate souls. "Hmmm...." He muttered, pulling his hand off his chin to point it at the mugs. His deep and rough voice would carry over to where the other McTavish was sitting. "I don't suppose you have any more of whatever Mohawk over there is having, do ya? Because if so, I'll take a few mugs of that."

That voice.

It was one only Jack could remember, and one that would put any activity he was pursuing to an utter halt. It had been so many years since he heard it. Not since decades ago when their family was utterly ripped apart, by the Seireitei and the Gotei 13 no less. He had been on the move, searching and hoping he'd find a trace of that man. The fact he had covered so much ground and looked for so long that he had given up finding the man on his own made the significance of hearing that voice all the more stupefying.

"H-H-Harry?" Jack croaked out, his face turning around to see his brother's form enter the bar, smiling at him in a way only he could understand. Tears welled up in his eyes and a big smile spread across his face, one that rivaled any he'd give during the biggest party. Seeing him, in the flesh, standing before him couldn't go without any proper action.

Too bad his form of reaction was often one to his family's chagrin.

"HARRY!!!" Jack yelled out, leaping from his seat comically into the air, tackling the man whom was of his blood to the ground. In the midst of the grapple, he placed an arm around his neck, putting him in a headlock. Using his spare knuckle he began to grind his fist into the top of his head, a mix of happiness and frustration in his voice as he berated him, "I've been lookin' all over the down and up and sideways under, ya bloomin' outie bastard! Do ya know how long I've been ganderin' across the the world?! Do ya?! I've spent some of the best years of ma life trappin and scoring and lootin and killin lookin for the faintest glimmer of you! Where did ya disappear off to, the living realm's prison?!"

Outside, the two younger McTavish could only chuckle at their father's yelp of surprise while the mother chuckled softly to herself.

Fortunately, and unlike his son and daughter, Haralson was the most appreciative of the gesture. Even as he was given a brotherly noogie that shut his remaining eye and prompted him to grasp at Jack's arm, he still kept that grin on his face. "Ah, by the grace of Izanami, Jackie!" He complained. "I'm an old man! You can't go treating me like I'm still in my twenties!" Regardless of his statement, he managed to struggle out of Jack's grip and pull himself up to his feet, dusting himself off. "You simply weren't looking hard enough. I was staying in one spot for a while, realized that I just couldn't do it and kept myself moving. I've been honing my fighting skills throughout my travels, taking on opponents big and small." He chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. "Can't exactly help what the 11th Division drilled into me, after all..."

"Glad to see you jumping like a kangaroo, Wallaby!" Braeburn took this time to enter the bar, with a rather hesitant Brina in tow. The male youth had a pleased grin on his face as he observed his father and uncle interact, seeming just as jovial as the rest of them. The girl, however, seemed more interested in twiddling her fingers and looking anywhere but at her uncle. Her expression showed discomfort and worry - an indication that she hadn't exactly dismissed their last altercation. "Sure beat watching you sit at the bar and drinking misery away!"

"Sorry, mate! It's just been too damned long," Jack wiped away the tears from his eyes, righting himself up to stand next to his brother. He knew that what his brother said was true. He had gotten old, just as he had. But as much as he could deny it, he could sense a spry inner strength lurking behind the sage elder brother. Someone like him wouldn't be out of shape even if he was on the run for hundreds of years. It was reassuring that he could tell that his brother was alright, even after their long absence from each other's company.

Seeing Braeburn enter, the uncle smiled broadly and waved heartily to his nephew, "How's it going, Burnside the Tornado! Or is it the Brae-Twister? I can't remember what nickname my partner came up for you. It's just good to see you will your pops dallying around this part of the...out...back..."

His voice trailed off as soon as he sighted the shame filled face of Gina. Even though part of his conflict with her was muddied from his activation of the Drunken God Fist mode, he knew all too well from the pain and from the briefing he had of what occurred afterwards that he was beaten to a bloody pulp. The only thing that stayed his execution was her former superior and her superior as well. It was just another painful reminder how he couldn't save anyone in his family, let alone avenge them.

So, in a justified way, he bared his teeth and glared pointedly at the meek young woman, snarling in question to his nephew, "What the Hell is she doing here?!"

It was a change in tone that made Brina flinch and the two male McTavish regard him with alarm.

The brown-haired girl shrunk back with a terrified squeal, and an arm from Braeburn and Haralson reflexively swung in front of her to protect her from Jack's wrath. It was known by both Brina and Braeburn that she could fend him off if she needed to. But she wasn't aiming for a fight. She was aiming to reunite with her family: something that had been deemed next to impossible by their tragic separation. Trying to do so in the face of an angry bull for a family member wasn't something looking forward to, as expected as it was. Had it not been for the presences of her father and brother, she probably would've buckled.

"Hey now, none of that!" Haralson said gruffly, looking at Jack with a stern frown. "She ain't here to cause any more trouble."

"Yeah!" Braeburn added. "She isn't the enemy here anymore. She came here to make amends with you."

"I-I'm really sorry!" Brina took the opportunity to speak up, although her voice cracked with her upset tone. She clasped her hands in front of her, her expression pleading for Jack's forgiveness. "For everything! I didn't want to fight you back at the D.C.O. headquarters! I didn't want to hurt Mom! I-I thought I was doing the right thing, and..." She blinked, tears starting to form at her eyes. "I don't want this anymore. I just want to make everything right again. Please... can't you forgive me?"

Jack blinked in surprise at how readily they defended her. He remembered all too well how much literal Hell she had put them through. How much pain and misery she put her father and her mother through. It was even less easy for his nephew, someone who had to endure ridicule and accusation for things he hadn't been guilty for. At least he was a bounty hunter with a group he could call family and a place to call home, they were all more or less homeless.

Slowly but surely, his fists unfurled and his body relaxed. Seeing Braeburn stand up for her was something he hadn't expected, despite his brotherly relationship with her. Haralson was all too predictable, but welcome in a situation where he knew his own temper could flare up unnecessarily. What he expected the least, though, was Brina herself.

Her tears wasn't one who was disguising her intentions. Her words were pure and not filled with aggression or hostility. She came to seek amends, forgiveness from the uncle she knew that she had hurt. The fact that she hid behind her father and brother meant that she wanted to be reunited with her family, if only for once for the first time in a long time. It was enough to pull on his heart strings, and cause his own face to soften.

"Ya really mean it, don't ya, lassie?" Jack asked, almost rhetorically. It was when he asked that he reached out and pulled Brina into a tight hug, his hands rubbing her back and her hair. Sobs broke out as a torrent of emotion was unleashed, so thankful he could hold his darling niece in his arms once more. It was a feeling unlike any other, and he was so thankful that she had come back to him. "you shouldn't be the one askin for forgiveness, Brina! Please forgive me for being a lousy uncle and not being more dependable! I'm sorry I couldn't save this family from its hardship!"

It was a planetary weight lifted off of Brina's shoulders. She shut her eyes, but couldn't stop her own tears from spilling down her face. Regardless, she wrapped her own arms around him in order to return his emotional embrace. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his clothed back, her head resting against his chest. As much as she wanted to rebuke his words, she couldn't bring herself to do anything more than sniffle and hiccup. It was indeed quite the touching moment, bringing about a warm smile to Braeburn's face.

Although he too was touched, Haralson didn't allow himself to show much of it. He held a pleased smirk on his face, folding his arms across his chest. "As nice as it is to see you let bygones be bygones, Jackie," He said. "There's one more surprise that we've got in store for you."

Settling down from his tender hug with his niece, Jack separated gently from her to focus on his brother. That twinkle in his eyes made him instantly curious and equally suspicious something was up. Something that only he would find out to be in his favor or his liking.

"What? You got me some meat to gnaw on? A barrel of fine whiskey? What can ya possibly surprise me with other than your fair company in the presence of my beloved niece and nephew?" Jack asked incredulously, waving his arms dramatically in emphasis of his own inquiry of what he was hiding.

And then, her voice spoke up.

"If it's all right with you, I'd rather not be compared to food and beverage."

On cue, Haralson and Braeburn stepped aside so that Jack could see who had spoken up. She came walking slowly through the doorway, limping in a slight but subtle fashion. Her walking stick tapped against the ground as she approached, mingling snugly into the group. Blank eyes stared into his own, the light unable to be reflected from those false irises. Yet her smile was as warm as the sun on a clear day. Once she stopped, she stood straight and tall with her staff held beside her. "It seems that reports of my... death... have been greatly exaggerated, haven't they?" She questioned, tilting her head to the side. "I'd say it's so good to see you again after so long, Jack, but..." Her free hand pointed an index finger at her eyes. "Can't exactly see much of anything right now."

"We all thought she died that day when the assassination occurred." Haralson said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "But I suppose Izanami had other plans. It's been quite a long time, but she finally managed to make it back to us." Giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, he allowed himself to step back. "Go easy on her, all right?"

All the rosy color drained from Jack's cheeks when he saw her. A woman he had thought long gone years and years ago. She had been an angelic beacon in their family, one that held them together through their trials and was a very much loved mother, a dear wife, and a blessed in-law. He had thought she had been slain by her own daughter, on the behest of the Gotei 13 for treason suspect.

But here she was, blind yet still of good health.

"E-E-Eve?!" Jack trembled, tears renewing within his eyes, hands reaching out tentatively towards her. He recoiled when they almost touched her face, remembering to be gentle. He still was looking at her up and down, examining her with sober eyes, to see if she was truly there; as if she was nothing more than an illusion or an inaccurate article. But after a few seconds of blinking and dry swallows, he found himself smiling hopefully at her as his hands gentle grabbed her shoulders, "it's really you, isn't it? You're alive, right?!"

His voice of emotion caused Evelyn to blink a few times, droplets forming at the corners of her eyes. But they didn't fall, and she gave a smile and nod in response. "Yes, Jack." She confirmed, her voice beginning to choke with happiness. She reached out, her palms gently touching and caressing his face. "It's me. I may not be as whole as I was, but it's me. And I'm glad to see what, despite everything, you've managed to pull through."

"Pull through? Sheila, I'm more than pulled through. I'm right as rain hailing over a scorched desert!" Jack emphasized with a thumbing gesture to his chest, puffing it up with pride. He always tried to show off in front of Haralson's wife, someone he thought of as a sister he never had. Whether it was to show he was stronger than his clearly superior brother, or that he had a ego that wouldn't be sated unless he upped one over his dear sibling.

He couldn't have felt happier knowing the family was together again. Braeburn, his nephew having turned into quite a warrior of good and stuck with him despite his own antics. Brina, despite their past misgivings, could work past their relationship's hurtles and eventually mend their bond back to the happy one they both knew of. Even Haralson was something he was overjoyed in seeing back, it was just his wife being alive and well that made it icing on the cake.

For the first time in a long time, Jack laughed a genuinely happy laugh.

"Now there's the Jack I know." It brought about a smile on Haralson's face to hear his brother genuinely happy for the first time in years. He placed a hand on his wife's shoulder as she lowered her hands from his face. "The family's all here, and it's the perfect place to get settled in." He craned his head in the bartender's direction. "Hey, barkeep! A round of Tendan Spill on me, for all four of us!"

"Actually," Braeburn piped in, causing most of his family's gazes to swing on him. He gave a lopsided smile, folding his hands behind his back. "You guys go on ahead and start. I'll catch up in a little bit. Gonna get a little bit of fresh air while I can before I start taking drinks down the pipe."

His father gave an amused smirk. "What's the matter, laddie? Afraid you'll lose it before you-- ack!!" He winced when Evelyn gave him a chiding elbow to his ribs, his hand rubbing the spot where he had been hit.

"Be nice, Haralson." Evelyn said, giving him a slight glare before looking over at Braeburn. "We'll be here, Braeburn, lest these two decide to drink this bar dry."

"Okay, now you're just being unfair..." Haralson complained, folding his arms across his chest and returning her glare. "We're not that bad..."

The Australian gave a chuckle and a wave before turning around and exiting the bar, the sounds of his family's antics growing fainter as he stepped back outside. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, taking the cool breeze through the nose and allowing himself to steady as much as he could. Then, he took a right and stepped into the alleyway beside the bar. Even under the daytime, he found himself walking under a shadow that covered the trash cans, the bags and the few rats that were scurrying around. It brought about a sense of foreboding, the cheeriness that the previous atmosphere induced on him vanishing quickly within this new setting. He slowly put on a frown as he looked around, seemingly searching for something.

"Your family seems to know their festivities."

The Australian's eyes widened when he heard a male and smooth voice sound from behind him. He turned himself around to see someone that clashed heavily with the setting around them. It was a man with long white and curly hair that went past the shoulders. He was dressed in a white plaid shirt, blue jeans and sneakers - a contrasting appearance from the traditional attire of the residents. His blue eyes seemed friendly enough, and his smile seemed to indicate one of friendliness. But instead of returning it, Braeburn directed narrowed eyes and a scowl towards him. "Arael..." He muttered, folding his arms across his chest. "That's what you're called, right? What the hell are you doing here?"

The said Arael cocked an eyebrow, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning on and settling into a casual shrug. "Must you take such a hostile attitude with me still yet?" He inquired, dropping his arms to his sides. "Here I thought we were starting to appreciate each other."

"The only thing I'm going to appreciate is my foot shoved up your ass, all the way to the colon." Braeburn growled, briefly raising a pointing finger before walking up to a closer distance. "Now what do you want? I was in a pretty good mood until you showed up."

Arael gave a heavy sigh, his smile dropping and his head shaking lightly. "If you insist." He folded his hands behind his back, his blue eyes quickly shifting to a visage of seriousness. "I called you away from your little gathering to inform you that the "summoning" is coming into fruition. The plan is coming out of thought process and everything will start falling into place very soon. Considering that you're technically "one of us" now, it's only fair I inform you as I informed the rest of the underlings."

In favor of the surprise he felt upon hearing those words, Braeburn chose to ignore the underling remark. As his eyes widened and his annoyance was lifted, Arael continued to speak. "You've been a rather reliable asset thus far for a Shinigami, Braeburn McTavish. Continue to play your role. Protect your allies to the fullest extent if you need to, but you cannot say a word about what is going to happen. We have been working flawlessly up to this point, and the last thing we need is any screw-ups." Although his tone was little more than firm and business-like, there was the subtle hint of a threat laced in it.

But if Braeburn noticed, he certainly was choosing to ignore it. He spread his arms out briefly to emphasize his careless attitude towards it. "You're the boss. My lips are sealed as far as that little road goes."

"And when the time comes," Arael stared at Braeburn intently, watching as the Australian's expression shifted with his words. His tone had grown colder, emphasizing the maliciousness of what was being spoken. "You'll do away with the bonds you've made for yourself. You'll fight beside us and, without regret, you will bring your blade to the throats of our opposition. It doesn't matter who it is or what kind of situation. If it stands in our way--"

"--I must kill them." Braeburn finished, closing his eyes and breathing a heavy sigh. Arael's words had brought about pain within his countenance, draining the majority of his spirit his family had injected into him. "Yeah. I get it. When the time comes, I'll be ready."

"Good." With a nod, Arael turned around and started to step away. He gave a farewell wave from over the shoulder. "Have fun with your family, Braeburn. It might just be the last time you'll ever enjoy their company again."

Then, with the movement of a Hirenyaku, he had vanished. Braeburn heaved out another harsh sigh before straightening himself up, making his way back out of the alleyway. He would put on a smile and exchange pleasantries with his family as if the conversation never happened. He would act like there was nothing up, like they would still be together for as long as they lived. It would be a long time before he would have to drop the mask and show his true colors. But he knew that when it came, he would never be ready for the heartache he would cause within himself and the ones he loved.

You wanted me as an enemy, Takashi?

A bitter smile crossed his face.

''You may just get it. Real soon...''

The Sun Within The Circle, A New Hope Is Born
For a moment, Manami was certain that she had died.

The last thing she remembered was herself fighting the Novena in a snow-torn landscape and slowly losing the fight. The energy blades she had created had been shattered, fists had been plown through the gut and she had been obliterated by his Cero. She didn't even have time to be baffled by the power he held within himself, nor did she have time to be surprised that she had been destroyed so easily. All she could do was sit there and watch herself die. She had expected herself to be floating within the void, reincarnated into a new form without her former identity or memory.

What she hadn't expected was her eyes to snap open to look at an unfamiliar ceiling.

She abruptly jolted up, an expression of shock written on her face. Immediately, she felt something around her, and as she looked down, she found a wrinkled sheet covering her legs. In frantically looking around, she saw herself to be in a bed. Instead of her "winter" attire, she wore a gray short-sleeve T shirt and matching sweat pants. Her feet was bare, with her shoes beside the bed. As she took it all in, she eventually started to relax. She recognized where she was - in a medical room for the Inner Circle's base.

But how am I...?

Her hands flew to her stomach, expecting to feel some sort of fist-sized wound or scar underneath her shirt. But instead, she came across healthy, untouched skin. Her hands flew into a deranged and comical version of the macarena, running across her face, shoulders, chest, hips and back again in order to make sure that she was still alive. The more she did it, the more it was clear that she wasn't in some sort of afterlife. She was alive and well, and it was like she had never entered a fight in the first place.

"Ah, you're awake," Yūyo Hakumei said in a dry, realizing tone. She had been nodding and off, watching over the "empty" body that Manami now inhabited. While she understood Yashin had other things to do, she couldn't help but find her job be demeaning. It was the equivalent of babysitting a corpse, and that essentially what it was until just now. Now that her job was complete, she could get off her wall perch and get the bossman.

Her black dress ruffled with every step, her long violet cloak flowed in sync with her long black hair. Opening the door, she stuck her head out in the hall and called out, "Lord Yashin. She's awake now."

"Good-Good," Yashin said as he passed her by, his attire now befitting his newfound status. Golden trim embroidered elegant black, violet, and crimson robes that endowed his person. With his hood resting on his back, his head of onyx hued hair and bi-colored eyes were exposed to see the dazed Manami. Smiling genuinely with relief, he reached out and cupped her by the chin, turning her head back and forth to examine her as one would to see if a specimen wasn't damaged. "it seems that your essence returned entirely to this body I marked. Excellent. I wouldn't want you to be unsightly after the ordeal you experienced."

Placing a hand atop her crown, he ruffled it fondly, speaking lowly to her as he thanked her, "Thank you for fighting on my behalf, Manami. You've done well."

It was his voice that brought Manami out of her surprised reverie.

Her eyes swung to him, widening as he made his approach. As she took in his appearance, she couldn't help but feel a little bit more insignificant than she was. No longer did he look like a colleague, instead carrying the visage of someone on a higher plane than her. Of course, she had always thought that way about him ever since she had come to understand a little bit more about him than most. But now it was made even made more apparent by his choice of clothing. But what caught her attention the most was the smile he was giving her.

Before she could find the words to speak, she found his chin gently grasped by the man.

"H-he's touching me! He's touching me~!"

Although she was squealing like a fan girl and blushing up a storm within her head, there was only a tint of red in her cheeks and a nervous expression on her face as he turned her head this way and that to inspect her. She kept her gaze on him the whole time, silently savoring their close proximity while she still could. Her heart was fluttering in her chest, and it was a miracle how she wasn't trembling in even the slightest manner. His words of care and gratitude made her feel as if she could jump up to the sky, if not for the fact that she wasn't sure just what type of condition her body was in right now.

That was when she realized that she had little to no idea as to what exactly happened to her, or how she was still breathing.

After a moment, she found the courage to speak. "O-of course, milord!" She said, mustering up what others would probably refer to as a "cute" smile. "I would fight a thousand battles on your behalf if you wished me to." Her smile was quick to fade into nervous inquiry. "But... if I may ask... what happened to me? I was certain that I was going to die, and then..." She trailed off, her eyes momentarily glancing at herself.

"You woke up," Yashin said vaguely, followed up with an amused chuckle. Withdrawing his hand from her head, he waved it above it before bringing to the forefinger up to emphasize his words, "more precisely, your new body did. The one that was left behind was beyond saving, thus your essence was harnessed and brought back into this one. The deterioration of a spiritual body is, after all, just spiritual particles, so the inner sanctum that makes up the spirit's spirit if you will simply dissipates. However, while your body was broken down, the normal deterioration was transferred into a marker I placed on your body to be transported elsewhere. It was marked to appear here, and while it took awhile for your scattered sanctum to return, it seems nothing was left behind and you are as you were before."

"Are you sure she'll understand what you mean, Lord Yashin? I don't recall her being a very bright subordinate of yours," Yūyo asked skeptically with half-lidded, dryly staring eyes at Yashin.

"I'm sure she's quite intelligent, Yūyo," Yashin lightly chided, turning his face to stare reprimandingly at the unapologetic girl, "her mannerism may be strange to some but I'm sure she has the best of intentions. Anyone in her position wouldn't be able to quite grasp the situation fully mere seconds of awakening. Would you?"

"Yes," Yūyo said readily, still blankly staring at him, "I could, given the chance."

Sighing, Yashin shook his head, returning his gaze back to Manami. Extending a hand for her to grasp and a smile for encouragement, he invited her as such, "Will you please come with me, Manami? The Inner Circle is having a meeting at the moment and I put it on hold till you awoke. I want you to be next to me when it happens."

Fortunately, Manami could summarize it in her own way.

"He reincarnated me..."

As Yashin explained, Manami had taken to holding her arms out and examining them. Her fingers clenched and relaxed, and she subconsciously tilted her head to the side along with Her essential identity had been transferred from one body to another, thanks to his divine intervention. Yet, it felt like she had simply woken up from a dream. There was nothing she could feel out of the ordinary, and if there was something, it was perfectly hidden. She simply couldn't get past the fact that it was because of him she was still alive. He had stepped in, saving her from what would've been a gruesome demise. He had saved her.

"He saved me..."

When she saw him extend his hand and heard his words, she could feel herself inwardly swelling up with excitement.

"He wants me to be at his side. Me, of all people!"

She couldn't keep the happiness out of her smile, but her voice remained humble and somewhat shaken. "I... I would be honored to be at your side, Yashin-sama." She said, holding a mix of positive anticipation and confidence within her words. She gingerly reached out, allowing him to take her hand. Although she generally was carrying herself with a semblance of a maiden's grace, she was mentally balling up her fists and shaking them while cheering like an idiot.

"And now we're holding hands! I touched him!"

"If you're done coloring your face the hue of a tomatoe, we have places to be," Yūyo said with annoyance, crossing her arms as she promptly walked out of the exit.

"Come now, Manami," Yashin beckoned, keeping his grasp on her smaller palm with his own gloved grip. Traversing out of the room the two entered the hall and walked through the old hall of their citadel. It was hauntingly quiet, due to the lack of people still present within the clandestine mercenary organization. Even still, the horizon orange glow filtered through the tall window panes aligned across the corridor's left wall, giving the walkspace a brilliant array of color and overcast the two of them in an enchanting glimmer of radiance.

After a minute of walking, following Yūyo's petitely short frame, the three turned a corner and entered a vaulted ceiling room. Having been remodeled from the four throned chamber, one that presided the ones who operated within as gods and almighty beings as more of a fellowship. In the middle of a slanted recess of the room was a round table, mahogany and golden trimmed, with the formerly throne seats occupying them at even spaces. Behind three occupied seats were the second in commands of the current Horsemen, the latter being Suna, Shikyo, and Seihai.

With the throne within walking distance, Yashin gently released his hold on Manami's hand and gracefully assumed his seat, having it pulled back by Yūyo before he pulled it forward to lean his elbows atop the wooden surface. Bridging his hands so his chin could rest on the splayed fingers, he smiled at the three, saying in an even tone, "Sorry about the wait."

"It's alright, Yashin," Seihai said immediately with a small smile of her own, "we understand how much work you put into this organization, even before you assumed this rank. We're just glad that you've found the time to come to this meet as I requested of you all."

Before anything else could be said, Shikyo spoke up towards the awakened Dragon as she moved to stand directly behind Yashin. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she put on a restrained frown, taking in Manami's appearance with the scrutiny of an inspector. "You appear to have dressed very informally, Hamasaki." She noted, keeping arms folded across her chest and maintaining what appeared to be a visage of sedate intimidation. But if the Dragon was frightened by her glowering, she certainly wasn't showing it. In response, she gave an amused smirk and allowed a gleam of mischief to flicker through her eyes.

"My apologies, Lady Shikyo. But my need for beauty sleep already took so much of your time. Certainly, you wouldn't be able to sit by and wait while I fret over what to wear for a meeting?"

"No kidding." Suna quipped before Shikyo had a chance to respond. "You women always act like you're hunting for the city of Atlantis when it comes to clothing." He casually ignored the slightly squinted glare Shikyo gave him for his sarcastic entry.

Kunō fixated a glare at Suna's head from her placement behind Shikyo. A noticable rise of dark energy culminated around her hood and cloaked visage, crimson veins spreading across her skin as much as her clothes. Golden eyes glared pointedly at Suna with an almost lethal intent, matching if not exceeding the anger filled stare her master held towards the relaxed Horseman.

"Ahem!" Seihai cleared her throat, causing whatever glares and unformal gestures being exchanged to cease. Looking across the table, she clasped her hands together to rest on the smooth wooden surface. In a much more serious tone she began to speak, "ever since my lo-er-superior sacrificed himself to save the enemies of the Quincy, I have inherited all of his intelligence, his power, and his vision for the future. However, what I found to be part of his plan was filled with some form of regret if not knowing just where we all ended up. That is subjugation doesn't bring peace and change, but only an exchange of power and different rulers. Our intentions may have been for the betterment of the whole world, but we never stopped to ask what the common person felt about this. We didn't even ask most of our men, whom we discarded as disposable, what they felt about this war. I ask of you Horsemen and Dragons, where exactly do we go from here? Before I tell you my own thoughts and plans for the future, I wish to know precisely what you all want to do from this point on."

"I've never been one to openly disclose that kind of information, sweet Seihai," Yashin readily said with a casual smile. Leaning his left jaw onto an upraised fist, he tapped his right hand's digits methodically as he looked on with equal measures of amusement and patience. "not saying that what you all have planned will not effect me in the slightest, but I assure you, I've never told people how and what I do. When I accomplish my objectives, I share my results, even of which you do not openly acknowledge. It always ends up in favor of this organization and I intend to keep working as such. Do any of you constantly keep each other appraised of what you do in your divisions, senior Horsemen of the Inner Circle?"

Suna gave a slight shrug with his hands as he looked from Yashin to the rest of his colleagues. "Of course not!" He said, as if it was natural for operations to commence in such a manner. "We don't need to constantly keep tabs on each other as to how we're operating within our divisions. We can trust each other to lead our groups without having to loom over each other, right? Besides," He folded his arms across his chest and tilted his chin up. "What reason would we have had to ask the underlings anything? They had their reasons for coming and staying within the fold. They had plenty of chances to leave, especially during the heat of combat--"

"That's excluding one very basic thing." Shikyo interrupted, regarding Suna with a half-lidded stare. In response, the male Horseman lifted his brow and looked at her with inquiry.

"Oh? And that would be?"

Shikyo parted her lips together to show bared teeth, lifting a finger to point towards them.

"Oh, right. I forgot about those." After registering what she had meant, Suna allowed his expression of resignation to change to one of amusement. "I still remember the first time those were used. Hapless moron didn't even know what was happening to him until I pushed the button. Took a whole week to clean that mess up. First it was funny, then it got sad, but then it got funny again." He finished this up with a humored chuckle, which was heard by the sound of Manami greatly attempting to stifle her own laughter.

Shikyo rolled her eyes. "In any case," She muttered, turning her attention to Seihai and Yashin. She rested her elbows on the table and folded her fingers together at face level. "The plan was to subjugate the world and make reformations from there, put civilization into a new and better era. But now, our power's diminished. A good portion of our forces have been destroyed, and it will be far too long until we see a full recovery. Even now, we are at the mercy of the victor." She closed her eyes and gave a heavy sigh. "As much as I hate to admit it, I cannot forsee a proper pathway we can take from here."

"We're not at the mercy of anybody. We're being entrusted as it stands to do the right thing," Seihai said firmly, her eyes staring at Shikyo intensely as she rested the bridge of her hands in front of her mouth, "the Inner Circle didn't succeed in creating a better world because of our methods. We lied, we stole, and we betrayed. We got exactly what we deserved at the hands of Aizen and Juhabach. Trusting them in the first place was a mistake, just like how our own men we threw to the slaughter and those we implanted in the Soul Society used such heinious methods!"

"What's this nonsense, Seihai?" Yashin asked in a less than pleased tone, the smile wiped off his face as he leaned against the back of his seat with a creaking groan. "are you having a case of bad conscience? You've inherited all of Kyōaku's essence and you somehow believe what we did was wrong? I'm starting to doubt the validity of your placement as a Horseman."

"Watch your tongue, Yashin," Mukurō spoke in a hollow, metallic tone that earned the man's humored grin and turn of the head. Standing there in his black cloak and golden armor was the faithful errant of Suna, and from the way his voice was projected, it wasn't in good humor. Pointing his gauntlet covered hand towards him, his finger pointed at him in an accusing manner, "the only reason you are a Horseman is because of good reputation and being spoken highly of by the absent Horseman, Shukuro Tsukishima. His disappearance is still up for debate and how you gained his seat so readily-"

"Are you implying that you're more fit for this seat than I? Now that is truly nonsense!" Yashin chuckled, placing his hands back on the table's surface in a casual manner. Locking his eyes back at him, his red eye gleamed as he spoke as much daggers as he stared them back at the armored visage of Mukuro's, "you lost to a mere underling of the enemy. Perhaps you'd like to retell the tale of how you cowardly fled the battlefield when your Arrancar nemesis gained the upperhand when you clearly held a higher ground than he? Don't act like I don't know. It's my business to know, especially the failings of others."

"Why you-!" Mukurō began to growl, a dark aura beginning to brim off his cloak and armor readily, earning the twitching posture of Yūyo as she reached up to touch her necklace.

But it turned out that she wouldn't have to lift a finger.

Before Suna could turn around to scold his subordinate or Shikyo could make her own move to stop him, the blue-haired Dragon used a Flash Step in order to carry herself from behind Yashin to in front of Mukurō. It was at that moment when it became deathly silent, with them all seeing her stand deathly still in front of the armored soldier. They would not see it, considering her back was turned to them. But Mukurō would be staring into the shrunken eyes of a livid woman who stood a little more than a head shorter than he was. As humorous as their size difference was, the menace and fury the girl was emitting wasn't. It was very clear that, despite whatever armor he had, she was still prepared to shred him into a million pieces. She balled up her fists until her knuckles turned white from the pressure, speaking in a tone that matched her countenance.

"Say that again, Mukurō!!" She hissed. "Keep slandering and threatening Yashin-sama, and I'll make sure there's nothing left when I'm done with you!!" She slanted her eyebrows and clenched her teeth in a snarl, glaring him in the eye and daring for him to make another move of defiance.

"Ho? Isn't this entertaining?" Yashin murmured with a wide grin on his face, much to Yūyo's chagrin.

"You wench!" Mukurō snarled, his dark slits becoming vividly visible as a pair of glowing red eyes shined past his helm. The dark aura began to become more apparent, flourishing and writhing around his form like living smoke. Raising a single hand over his head, it looked as if he was going to strike the smaller girl aside out of indignant anger. "I'll teach you to know your place-!"

A single clap, and the two were separated in a flash of emerald light.

Mukurō found himself at the far end of the hall, his metal palm crushing the floor with a loud eruption of compressed spirit energy. As he stared down with bewilderment, he turned his head around to look where he was. With dawning realization he saw that he was teleported in an instant, whereas Manami was likewise sent to the other end of the hall.

"Lady Seihai...did that?!" Mukurō thought with a unsteady rise to his full height, noting the young woman's stern look upon her normally cheerful visage.

"Behave yourselves, all of you!" Seihai said in a commanding tone, casting her emerald eyes to and fro, catching the glances of everyone present. Yashin chuckled but remained quiet, reclining back to his seat with his hands folded in front of him. When she cast a glance to Manami and Mukurō, she asked in an incredulous tone, "can you return to your places without trying to kill each other? Or do I have to send you out like children?"

Likewise, Manami was shocked.

She had been in the process of putting her arms up in order to defend from Mukurō's strike, with all the intent of fighting him right then and there present. But just like that, she found herself standing on an end far away from where she had been standing before. Her countenance of rage had switched to one of shock and amazement as she looked at her surroundings. She understood what happened; somehow and someway, Seihai had forcefully teleported them to different locations. She had the impression that it was the transfer that allowed her to use it so easily. But how much did she really know about her former colleague? Either way, she was a strong one and she was already showing herself to be a good successor. Her expression slowly lessened, and she couldn't help the impressed smile that came across her face as she looked down.

"She's good. Real good."

She settled from a stance and straightened, her smile fading away as she looked at Seihai. "My apologies, kachō." She said softly, giving a humble bow. "I couldn't help but let those words of his get to me. I won't do it again." As she directed her gaze towards Mukurō, however, she narrowed her eyes into a hard glare and scowled. Because of the awareness on her, it wasn't as livid as it was before. But it was still enough to convey a warning that she would gladly silence Mukurō if she caught him speaking badly about Yashin again.

Mukurō, likewise, murmured his own apology as he used Shunpo to return back behind Suna's seat. When both returned to their placements, only exchanging minimal glares that dwarfed their prior anger filled stares, Seihai felt satisfied. She could only hope none of her peers encouraged such behavior in the future.

"As I was saying," Seihai said, fixing a scowl at Yashin before sweeping her gaze to Suna and Shikyo, "we went about this whole ordeal wrong. Hostile takeover breeds nothing but hatred for generations to come. The fact all of our strategies went according to plan only strengthened their cause and the bonds they shared together. In the end our own allies turned on us, showing that their unity was more wholesome than any we shared together. We need to ensure that, in the future, we won't become so dysnfunctional.

"The people who the Soul Society neglect, the cities that are overrun with fear and disorder, the countries rife with despair and hate...we need to help those places. We need to transform the Inner Circle into something better than a war mongering organization of mercenaries. It needs to be a symbol, a group that operates on the notion that peace and protection are our highest priorities. Such things as glory and pride should come secondary to the safety of those in the world. If we want to establish a truly better place for everyone to live in, we need to get our hands dirty and help people with our own strength. Doesn't that sound better than waging a war, shedding blood, and sitting atop a world as hated rulers who had to do everything but understand what their turmoils were?"

"You're suggesting transforming the Inner Circle into a peacekeeping force? What kind of laudable talk is this? You can't be serious!" Yashin laughed incredulously, finding it hard to contain himself from what he was hearing. He had been patient enough to listen to all of Seihai's words without interrupting, but now? He couldn't help but cock his head to the side and gesture with bewilderment at his peer, "I'm having doubts that you really inherited Kyōaku's spirit. He wouldn't have such a selfless and truly weak notion to turn everything he and the rest of us worked for centuries into something so belittling. It's quite sickening when you think about what her ambition is."

"Actually,"

Surprisingly enough, it was Suna who spoke to counter Yashin's statement. "I think the kid's onto something."

It made Shikyo tilt a look of incredulity of her own towards him. "And you happen to be the one saying this?" She questioned, almost as if she had heard incorrectly. "You, the one who wanted little more than continuous warfare and the most extreme "expression of freedom" possible? You're advocating that we should turn the Inner Circle into something that stands for peace?"

Suna gave a humored chuckle, folding his arms across his chest. "Yeah, when you put it that way, it sounds hard to believe." He remarked. "For the longest time, I thought the only way the world could survive was through conflict. By pitting all factions against one another in an eternal struggle for domination, there would be no law. There would be no order and restraints to tie the masses down. Everyone would've been free to do as they pleased without consequence. It would've been my will when I stepped onto that platform known as "godhood"." His last sentences garnered a thoughtful expression on his face, and he found himself turning his gaze away from the rest of the group. "Yes, it was such a good idea at the time, and if I had the chance, I would do it all over again just to watch the flames burn over the landscape..."

His pleased smile faded away as soon as it came. "But as of now, Shin'en is dead and gone. If you were meant to be right, Yashin, I should be gone as well. I'm not supposed to be here, sitting and talking with you all about the future of the Inner Circle. I was supposed to have died by the hands of the Quincy King, rotting away because of our idiocy and belief that we could destroy him and Pretty Boy alongside the Alliance. But Kyōaku did it. He sacrificed his own life in order to revive me, the soldiers of the Inner Circle and the soldiers of the Alliance. He put his faith in all of us destroying their power, ensuring that they wouldn't put their reign over the universe. And he trusted her," He glanced at Seihai. "With every piece of knowledge and power he had. He had to know what kinds of ideals and goals were running through her head, and yet he put his future in her hands. And all things considering,"

He looked over at her, gave her a kind smile and gestured over towards her with one of his hands. "I think I'm ready to do the same."

"Thank you, Suna-san," Seihai breathed out with relief, smiling gratefully at him. While he was the only one who was present during her transformation and nearly instantaneous replacement of the late Kyōaku, she had been worried that he'd be too stuck in his ways to see the benefits of change. Clearly she was anxious for nothing, and she knew that she could count on him for the indefinite future of their organization's continuing existence.

It was during this query that Yūyo bowed her head and swallowed down a lump in her throat. Her thoughts turned to that of her old master, the one whom she had left and betrayed for the sake of Yashin. He had once spoke the same way as Seihai and Suna did, urging her to go the path of guardianship and protection rather than for the ambitions of one's self or that of another's. It made her tighten her fists with personal confliction, even as their conversation had ended and awaited Yashin's approval.

"Seems like I have really no say unless I gain support from a more sensible colleague," Yashin sighed, his tone resigned and relinquishing the pressure of decision to his other female comrade. Entwining his hands in front of himself, he flexed his thumbs as he narrowed his eyes at the older woman. Asking in a cool voice, he inquired to her, "what say you, Shikyo-san? Do you support or challenge this newfound principle these two have concocted?"

For what seemed like the longest moment, Shikyo remained silent. She closed her eyes, her expression contorted with anxious thought. She lowered her hands to the table as well as her head, her eyes momentarily hidden by her bangs. It wasn't until a good while that she took in a deep breath and fed her answer. "We had it all, Yashin." She said, her voice quiet and subdued. "In that swift and fleeting moment, we had the world at our fingertips. As underhanded and malicious as our actions were, they were also productive. We crippled the defenses of our enemy and sent them to the edges of the earth. We swayed the populace with propaganda promising better changes. We had the world in our hands, believing that we had truly won. And then, it all fell apart. When all the cards were on the table..."

Her fingers curled.

"When they started fighting back... suddenly, victory didn't seem so in reach. We had them outnumbered and outgunned, and yet they still proved themselves to be the greatest threat to our existence, even without the help of Sōsuke Aizen and Ywhach. They fought us, they crippled us and they beat us. The Horsemen were laid at the feet of their respective enemies, and it is only by their mercy that we live to talk about what has happened here. We lost it just as quickly as we had earned it. The only thing this war did was strengthen ties and bring the world even closer than it was after the Plinian Movement." She slowly shook her head. "I had my chance. I abandoned the ones closest to me for the sake of changing the world, gambled it all for a spot at the top of the pyramid... and once I had it, it was ripped away from my hands. I was left with nothing but the desire to cling on to my own life."

She opened her eyes to stare firmly at Yashin. But that firmness would carry a hint of weariness. "I can't risk that again. I have a husband and daughter waiting for me at home, waiting for their mother to take her rightful place at their side. I can't afford to wage another war, not when the first has cost me so much." She switched her gaze over to Seihai and Suna. "My defeat at Hana's hands showed me that much, as well as the fact that maybe taking the world by force was indeed wrong. If changing our direction completely is meant to be the step in the right direction, then I don't have any qualms changing my footing."

Sighing, Yashin felt resigned on the matter. Looking at Seihai he pushed himself up from his seat, standing before the other three, "I see there's no changing your mind. Very well. You all made a convincing argument that you all can agree on. While I believe such notions tend to lean to a fantasy of ideals and whimsy, I understand defeat has soured your ability to persevere beyond this point. Just remember, when you do feel ambitious, talk to me again. Until then I shall support this organization in the best way I know how; from the shadows."

Turning from his seat, Yashin began leaving the Horsemen, his robe flourishing behind each step. Snapping his finger, he wordlessly beckoned both Manami and Yūyo to follow. He'd leave without turning his head or saying another word. Exiting through the hall exit, he walked back to his study, far away from the Meet.

"I thank you for your understanding and support," Seihai began to speak, breaking the uncomfortable silence created by Yashin's exit. In point, she emphasized with a nod in the direction of where the enigmatic member left to, "as much as Yashin may not understand or totally agree, I am glad he didn't pressure the point. He is, after all, a reasonable man when it comes down to it. Even if he can be a bit grating on one's nerves...."

"I do not trust him."

Shikyo's voice caused Suna to snap his head towards her in surprise. She held a composed yet displeased expression as she stared at the doorway from which Yashin and his underlings had exited from. She allowed herself to take a glance, taking in his expression of bemusement. "Don't tell me you didn't feel it prior to this moment." She said in an almost chiding manner, to which Suna gave a shrug of the shoulders.

"Feel what? Shikyo, you're speaking nonsense to me."

"During the attack on the D.C.O. HQ, right when we decided to finish the remnants of the Alliance," The elder female Horseman explained. "He had made his appearance and insisted that we spare them. At first, I believed that it was little more than a suggestion to watch them squirm for time. But in hindsight, all that did was allow them to gather the resources they needed to fight back. That alone would've been enough to be considered a massive failure. Yet he and we have turned a blind eye to it up to this moment in time."

Her eyes shifted from one Horseman to the other, continuing to speak. "And furthermore, Tsukishima recognized him as a very capable subordinate who was assigned the task of destroying the V-14. Yet, each and every time they were pinned into a corner, they miraculously slipped through his capable fingers... time and time again. I am uncertain about the two of you, but that was a problem that should have been noticed right away. Yet as we did for the moment that took place afterwards, we turned a blind eye in favor of dealing with the Soul Society. With that being said, wouldn't you agree that there's a bit of inconsistency when it comes to our newly assigned Horseman here?"

It was enough to cause Suna's confusion to regress to moderate acknowledgement. He looked as if he was trying to process the newfound information the best he could, but still unable to fully register her observations.

"Things don't always go as planned," Seihai said calmly, looking over at Shikyo with hands folded on the table, "Yashin had an incredible burden to bear as one of the Dragons for the Inner Circle. V-14 may had been a top priority, but so was maintaining communication with a number of cells he was tasked with organizing across our borders. It was amazing that he could do all of that and appear none the worse for wear. V-14's membership of retaining a Hankami, as well as a host to a number of reputably powerful members, made it all the more difficult.

"And as for DCO HQ, I can admit that Yashin was a little full of himself, thinking we could have bested them. Perhaps the comfort of having tremendous support of the Quincy and Aizen's forces at our side made him think we didn't need to annihilate them utterly. Or maybe if we had destroyed them then and there, we would have had to face Juha and Aizen alone. Whatever the case may be, we perhaps escaped an unsightly end, possibly thanks to Yashin's planning ahead. Try to go easy on the man, Shikyo-san," Seihai said with a smile, finishing in a way she deemed was acceptable to their conversation.

"I don't go easy on anyone, Seihai." But if anything, it didn't mitigate Shikyo's subtly hardened expression. Nor did it take away the stern tone within her voice. "Especially not after the signs I witnessed today. You can feel free to carry that sense of optimism with you as long as you wish. But I have lived long enough within the slums of existence to recognize the eyes of a snake. You don't have to take my words to heart." She glanced over at Suna. "And neither do you. But I do advise that you keep an eye on him - a watchful eye. From this point on, I know I will."

"Very well," Seihai sighed reluctantly, leaning against her seat with her arms crossed over her chest, "I'll try to keep up to date on Yashin's personal and mission oriented activities. It isn't healthy for anyone, guilty or not, to be left alone to their own devices. Locking himself in a room can't be good for him either. I'll try to make sure he won't find the time to be suspicious or uncharacteristic of someone befitting our rank and stature. Will that suffice, Shikyo-san?"

Shikyo gave a curt, polite nod. "It'll do. Thank you." She answered.

"So, is that everything you needed to talk about?" Suna asked, raising his arms up in a casual shrug. "We're all in agreement as to what we're gonna do, I'm assuming. But if we've got any additional comments we need to share, now would be a good time to do it."

"Yes, actually," Seihai said with a smile, glad to change topics. Turning her gaze to Suna, she folded her hands in front of her on the table, leaning forward as she spoke, "I was thinking of reestablishing the ranks of our subordinates in a way that gave them better feeling of purpose and better stature than they received in the past. After all, with so much less manpower, we need to treasure the people under our charge less like conscripts and more like proper soldiers. Putting their lives on the line, even if its for a contract, needs to be respected and given proper due. Maybe an awarding ceremony for those who fought and survived the war that's still among the Inner Circle?"

That was enough to bring about an unsure silence from the male Horsemen. His expression regarded Seihai as if she had grown two heads, as if she had proposed to figure out the meaning of life. He glanced over at Shikyo, who was regarding him with her own brand of skepticism. Then the two looked at Seihai, and Suna chose the moment to speak. "You mean as in hand out trinkets, shake hands and congratulate them on how good a job they did?" He asked rhetorically. "That... sounds kind of... pointless, if I have to say anything about it."

The Hurricane's Rest, The Noble House Rests
Kukkyōna stirred in his bed, waking to the sound of birds chirping and bamboo clapping against smooth stones in a pond. Old wounds slowly faded into dim scars, aches now seemed like annoying itches he can't scratch. His violet matte of hair fell freely over his shoulders as he rose up in his silken bed. The warmth beside him was fresh, meaning she wasn't too far away. The distant sound of shower water striking a body could be heard by the Captain, causing him to smile.

"Right. The War is Over but she's yet to reclaim her duties back at Yūrei," Kukkyōna thought as he donned something more appropriate. A burgundy trimmed, crimson obi was enough to suffice his casual wearing needs. Placing simple sandles over his bare feet, the Hayate Noble Head began walking across his room with a lavish scenery of a beautiful garden.

He was glad his servants were able to repair the damage that was caused by the Inner Circle's brief yet effective occupation. He'd hate to have such an ugly view after such a horrible conflict.

Standing just outside the more modern appliance installed and kept within the Hayate household, Kukkyōna crossed his arms within his sleeves and waited for her to exit. To speak to a woman as she bathed, was impolite in his eyes. After all, she was a guest in the house and as the host he didn't wish to disturb her.

"Besides. We have something important to discuss," Kukkyōna reaffirmed in his mind, trying to keep his demeanor serious upon her arrival. Yet, for the life of him, he could wipe the uncharacteristic grin off his face. Being so close to her was making him so complete and so full of happiness that he couldn't contain even a small smile. Is this is what love is doing to a stoic person of the Gotei 13?

''In. Out.''

''In. Out.''

''In. Out.''

Avaron allowed herself to breathe slowly, drinking in the hot water's vapors like a sponge. She ran soapy fingers through her vibrant orange hair to cleanse the locks of dirt, flakes and whatever else that had accumulated during her own encounters in the war. A cleansing pad's hand worked over the flaws and errors of her skin, scrubbing off the disgusting remnants of her more personal battles. It was rejuvenating her, but at the same time, she felt severely exhausted. She was a police officer, and yet she had to fight like a soldier in two wars in a row just because she had been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. As much as she and the rest of the Alliance had accomplished, it felt as if she had lost a lot more of herself.

"It's only going to get worse from here." She thought to herself, giving a heavy sigh. "Once I get back to Yūrei, it's all going to be paperwork and politics. I can only hope that my assistant's been doing a good job of covering for me." As she raked her fingers through her hair one last time to allow the stored water to crash into the tub, she looked at the entryway of the doorway and gave a grateful smile that the Hayate wouldn't see. "But at the very least, I've got someone close by my side. He'll keep me sane, if only for the moment."

After turning the shower off, she gingerly stepped out of the tub and onto a rug to let the residual water soak in without a mess. She snatched a towel and dried herself off, allowing herself to call out to Kukkyōna. "Hey, Kukkyōna! If you'd be so kind as to open the door a little and hand me my clothes, that'd be great!"

Furrowing his brows, the Captain almost felt as if he had been caught waiting outside. Did she know he was awake? Shaking his head, Kukkyōna quietly used Shunpo to disallow himself from being seen moving away from just outside the entry doorway. He sifted through the pile of garments that had been assorted in the closet, finding a number of suitable tops and other matching articles of clothing she'd find acceptable.

It didn't take long for him to reappear in a shimmering rush directly in front of her. He purposefully kept the armload of clothes in front of his eyes, wanting to keep himself from disrespecting her and dishonoring himself by viewing her bare body. He had his standards of being a Noble, after all.

"I didn't know what you usually wore so I grabbed what seemed appropriate," Kukkyōna spoke stoically from behind the bundle of garments, not willing to chance a look around to see her beautiful form. "so I grabbed what I deduced to be in your fashionable liking."

"!"

If it was one thing that Avaron hadn't expected, it was the noble re-appearing right in front of her.

She froze where she stood, her eyes widening and her cheeks turning a bit pink as she saw his form. The towel she had been using to dry herself off was held up to her chest, covering her front and protecting her modesty. But as she allowed herself to look closely and see that he was trying to keep himself from viewing her. The way he was holding the bundle of clothes in front of himself just to block his own view was a bit funny. It wasn't long before she could a corner of her lip start to curl up into a smirk. Then, she started giggling and had to hold her fingers in front of her mouth in order to restrain herself. While she had to appreciate his chivalry, she also saw it as something that could make the man look comical at times.

In order to save her sides from being hijacked, she decided to try and get him to relax. After she made sure she was dry, she wrapped the towel around her form in the manner of a dress and secured it with a tying of the folds. After making sure it wouldn't fall off, she placed her hands on her hips and gave a cock of the eyebrow. "Kukkyōna," She said, almost in a chiding but certainly humored manner. "I said to stick your arm through the door, not come in completely. If you wanted to join me, you could've just asked politely."

"Sorry," Kukkyōna appologized, his face now a tinge of red at acting so silly. Here he wanted to ensure he kept the boundaries between them pure and wholesome but instead made himself look a fool. How he knew those in his Noble House, let alone his peers of the Gotei 13, would laugh at him for such undesirable actions. If his son saw him, he knew he'd be laughing without ceasing!

"Here," Kukkyōna pushed the pile of clothing into Avaron's arms, turning on his heels so his back was facing her. He couldn't show his face to her, not with the color it was presenting. "my apologies again, for my foolish actions."

''He still refuses to turn around! Oh, Spirit King!"''

Avaron's giggles increased even as the pile of clothing was pushed into her arms and she was made to stagger back a few steps. After making sure the area around it was dry, she placed them on the ground and knelt down in order to rummage through them. The majority of them, much to her lack of surprise, consisted of mostly feudal attire. It was only briefly that her grin turned into a frown as she looked for something that fit her, only to return once she decided to raise her head up. At this point in time, she now had a practical reason to get him to turn around - to get him to help her pick someting out. Leaving the pile of clothes there, she stood up and placed her hands on her hips while tilting her head to the side. Her eyes regarded his back with barely hidden amusement, and her tone conveyed it in full.

"You don't have to apologize, big guy. But you could just turn around and look at me. I mean, there's gotta be a reason why you haven't just up and walked back out yet, right?" This last sentence was sprinkled with a few more chuckles, and she once again had to place fingers to her mouth in order to stifle herself. "Just take a deep breath and do another about-face. I promise nothing bad'll happen."