[BSD-RP] Soul Society: Central Seireitei

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With so many orders being given out, the Fifth Division is seeing an all time high in activity it has not seen in the centuries it spent without a Captain or Lieutenant. Admittedly there are some who wish they could go back to their lethargic days and there are others who are more than happy to be working this hard. Having a chance to prove themselves, get recognized, move up in rank and achieve a true status in the Gotei Thirteen. Then there are those who are purely overjoyed with their work, these are the individuals working on quite the unique project, unique within all of the Seireitei, the Kido Cannon.
During the Four days of rest their Captain looked over the old schematics of the Kido Cannon, the charge time, and how it breaks when fired. He is no engineer, nor is he a man of science so seeking a way to omit these fallacies were a bit difficult for him. What he does understand, however, is Kido and how to channel it into an object. Extremely powerful Kido are hard to contain and hide, such as Hado 90 or Hado 88, such spells cannot casually be hidden within an ordinary stone or plant or else it would destroy the vessel it hides in. This logic is then applied to the Kido Cannon and how after it is fired it breaks. Perhaps the amount of Kido energy being released is too much for it to withstand much like how a pebble cannot contain the power of Hado 88.
Another weapon the Kido Corps take care of, or used to take care of , is the Sōkyoku (双殛, Twinned Punishment; Viz "Execution Instruments"), an instrument that was used to execute criminals and boasted the power equivalent to that of a million Zanpakuto. Such power was enough to vaporize a soul from existence. If the Kido Cannon were to be constructed in a similar manner then it could perhaps handle the strain of the blast fired. The last issue to be addressed is the damage it causes to Soul Society and the Human world. The Kido Cannon is a tool that is powerful enough to destroy pocket dimensions and these dimensions exist on the outside of Soul Society and the Human world drifting like satellites around a planet, hence why they both suffer damage. The solution to this was to dial in how much power is put into the Cannon when fired.
Typically hundreds of shinigami are used to charge this weapon, but if instead of hundreds, dozens were used then perhaps they could create a blast strong enough to wipe out fortresses such as Las Noches or Silbern without ever having to step foot in their dimensions. Construction had only begun and yet the thought of building a “super weapon” was exhilarating for those assigned to the task. On this day, however, a Kido Priestess arrived with a scroll, on this scroll was instructions from their Chief to place a uniquely crafted spell on the weapon upon its completion. They were not told what this spell does, only to follow the instructions given to them on the scroll.
The nature of this spell is self destructive, once on the Kido Cannon the Grand Chief or Head Captain can trigger the spell to self destruct the Cannon should it somehow end up captured by enemies outside of or within the Soul Society. The details and workings of this spell have to be passed off to the Head Captain still, and they will as a messenger was dispatched to the First division barracks with a similar scroll with all the info the Head Captain will need to activate the self destruct spell. Soon, within one hundred years, the Soul Society will have a “nuclear deterrent” for any would be invaders or aggressors against Soul Society.
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BSD

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The Eastern gates of the Soul Society open, revealing a parade of Rukongai Citizen’s shouting in joy. The direction of the gate was chosen symbolically, referencing the rising of a sun, the dawning of a new day. The festival, which has been raging on within the central Forty Six Districts since sunrise, encompassess the entirety of the Seireitei’s surroundings. Though commotion was caused by the explosions earlier in the day, Seventh Division Shinigami, as well as some from the Fifth Division, were dispatched to handle the situation. Security was on high alert today, and the military might of the Gotei Thirteen would not allow any interruption of this most prestigious ceremony.
The crowd of cheering citizens suddenly parts, as an entourage of Shinigami approach. Each of these soul reapers was hand picked from the First Division’s ranks, in order to provide the highest quality of protection for the souls that they are escorting. What could be the cause of such uproarious celebration, and iron-clad security? It is none other than the arrival of the new Central Forty Six. Today is the day of their inauguration, as well as the official coronation of the new Captain Commander, Higen Kagayaki.
Among these Forty Six Souls is one gentleman, Takiyo Hoshi, who becomes lost in thought as he steps through the threshold, and into the Soul Society, his new home. The roaring of the crowd becomes deafened by the weight of his newfound responsibilities.
“In all your years in the soul society you never expected to come here, did you Takiyo?”
A voice rings out from within his head. Another soul, or rather, another aspect of his own soul. A split personality, as is the curse for all Hoshi.
“No Teruma. Nor did I expect to be escorted by one of the descendants, Shōri was it? If I recall her mother was the first of the Hoshi’s to join the Seireitei.”
A light conversation between himself and his other half, amongst his peers. Although he was elected like everyone else, he felt out of place, and not for his Namanari; it was the lack of a noble background. The Oda’s, Oki’s, Kiyoshi’s, Gekkō and finally the Mukuro, all of them nobles and dangerous in one way or another. Though, he still had Teruma keep his attention on Yakitsuku Oda for any sudden movements. As for himself he had his mind on that of the Captain Commander, a giant of man, yet the Commander was not as intimidating as the current Central forty six in Takiyo’s mind. He was under the assumption that if the Commander decided to wipe them all out, he would leave it at that, just the members of the Central Forty Six. The elected officials though? They would not only kill him, but also his legacy, killing his family then dragging their name into the ground. For that reason he had to take his time and observe everyone’s actions and words to see who can start forming an alliance with, who to keep at arm's length and who to stay away from.
“Of all the people here, who do you think you can trust?”
The voice rings out again, as they walk in unison through the Soul Society, heading towards the Central District, or more specifically, the Central Compound that would soon become their place of business.
“Had this been a normal event I wouldn’t trust anyone here, but if I had to guess it would be the Oki Clan. All the humanitarian efforts they do makes them the most honorable. Though like any noble house they have a few skeletons... This may surprise you but I’d rather keep the Oda’s at arms length rather than keep them away, they’re a devil we know, as opposed to the Gekkō and the Kiyoshi.”
“And the Mukuro?”
“If the rumors are true then we shouldn’t go near him, at least not alone.”

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Teruma had never seen Takiyo this worried, not since he brought the Hoshi out of the infamous Zaraki district. That hellhole was far behind them, but now he was worried about what was hiding in this new place, the Seireitei, a game amongst the members of the Central Forty Six. Even now, as they march, their eyes do not look upon the Soul Society with reverence, but calculation.
Entering the Central Compound, they grow closer to the source of their predecessors demise. Despite the fanfare, this journey did not feel like a welcome home. Instead, it feels as though they are marching into the belly of the beast, the former residence of the threat that looms over them all, Shobatsu Murasaki. Approaching the newly cleaned Central Forty Six Compound, the reality of the situation finally sets in. One individual, a frail old man, looks about the Hall’s entrance with cunning eyes.
“They’ve cleaned the place, yet still the smell of blood persists.”
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Shiriusu Kiyoshi, of the lesser noble family. A clever individual, he knows how to hide his true strengths, forming his appearance and mannerism to invoke underestimation in his adversaries. He plays the part of a delicate elder, his movements slow, his mannerisms weak. However, he is anything but. Conserving his words, and his intent, for when they prove useful, for now he simply assess the situation.
He is surprised to see that Commander Kagayaki has already beaten them to the hall. The election of this new Central Forty Six is unprecedented, and so no one knows what to expect. Therefore, the elected officials did not know if Commander Kagayaki was to welcome them at all, given his affiliation to the traitor Murasaki. Even if he were to welcome them, Shiriusu had expected to be greeted at the Eastern Gate, or perhaps the entrance to the hall. Instead, he sees that the man is already in position, eager to get down to business. Pleasantries and gestures were not necessary. They certainly had a lot to discuss. If that is the case, then Shiriusu is pleased to see a man of business hold the title, the Commander had made a good first impression.
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Destiny Awaits
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Responding to the Commander’s lead, one of the first members of the Central forty Six to take their seat was a green-haired young man, with a sinister smile, Kazan Gekkō. There was clear tension. Fear, even. Many of these individuals would come to fear that the events of their predecessors would eventually happen to them. Even if the former Captain-Commander had willingly gone back to the Muken, what would keep their current Captain-Commander from doing just as he did? The many hushed whispers around the young Gekkō would make him stifle his smile, hiding it behind the cover of his hand as he leaned forward in his seat.
“Fear sure is something to be influenced by...”
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Doing a once-over on the crowd as a whole, Kazan’s eyes had fallen on a particular individual and he narrowed them, his mouth forming into a frown. There was something he never liked about Kohaku Oki. Maybe it was his girlish looks that often caused girls to flock to him more, or the fact that he would talk to his cousin and Akarui would give him more attention than he would ever get. A comical vein popped out of his forehead and he just turned back to the stand before him, eyeing the center stage as it illuminated the body of the current head of the Gotei Thirteen. He was here to get his clan’s foot in the door, and essentially spread the growth of their influence with other clans if they were interested, however, those were his clan’s aspirations. Personally, Kazan was here to be completely neutral, so long as it didn’t harm the reputation of his clan or the image of his clan leader.
“Each of the forty-six individuals here have their reasons for placing their representatives within this room, for selfish uses or just to observe their opposing parties. Regardless, that was simply clan politics versus what our actual protocol is… But who will be the first to break the silence?”
His answer is made clear, be the gentle voice of the very soul who Kazan had been glaring at.
"My, my. What a fun gathering."
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The second Oki clansman elected into the Central Forty-six, Kohaku Oki, smiles. A noble only in name, he married the matriarch's niece some years ago. He comes from the outskirts of the southern Rukongai, impoverished and alone, his skill with the word saved him repeatedly. While his own goals may currently be aligned with Naoki's in regards to the improvement of the Rukongai districts, it is uncertain if their goals will remain as such. He is respectful of her, but finds himself having more in common with those of lower status. It is due to this that he is elected, as an advocate to the impoverished southern and western districts. His amber colored eyes glance around the room, familiarizing himself with the faces of his fellow councilmembers. Kohaku has no positive or negative feelings towards anyone here, that being so, he can't help but feel a sharp glare on him. It isn't until his eyes lock with the Gekkō's very attractive representative, that he feels tension between them. Confused, but not one to be immediately hostile, he smiles and offers a friendly wave. "Hello Neighbor." He mouths, so as to not interrupt anyone in the room.
However, there is another official who does not hesitate to interrupt. The first to speak out of turn, and loudly so. This man is noble everything but reputation, a rough sort of soul, who believes in the power of action over words. His family history is as complicated as the Seireitei itself, being banned from the Gotei Thirteen, while his grandson serves as the Captain of Fifth Division, and Chief of the Kido Corps, yet also lives in disgrace as the first Vizard in hundreds of years. He is none other than the patriarch of the Oda Clan, Yakitsuku Oda.
He looks upon the Commander of the Gotei Thirteen, looks at his stance, how he clenches his fists, how his brow may furrow and how he observes the room. He recognizes the Commander's strength but also takes note of his uneasiness, how unfitting he is to the role of being Commander. He begins making a proper assessment of the Commander, how does he fare when compared to the Commanders of old? Is he able to learn from the mistakes of his forebears or will he be a conduit for history to repeat itself? Questions upon questions stack themselves endlessly in the mind of this old man such as the motives of these other clans who were elected. His eyes glance to his left then right, history has woven some of these groups together in one way or another. The Oki may have some ire towards the Oda but it was Ten’yuu’s choice to marry into the clan. Petty drama is all that is in his eyes. The true cause for concern is the Mukuro clan. He watches the man from his peripheral, he is sure the Mukuro elder is aware of this. His mouth parts, his lungs filling with air as he readies himself to address the true center of attention here, Commander Kagayaki.
“Commander Kagayaki. The Rukongai has become a beacon for disaster, the Gotei has become a bed for treacherous growth. Nobles using relics to obtain power and seated Shinigami killing each other. I cast no blame upon you, none on Murasaki-sama, and none upon the Gotei Thirteen. I merely would like to know what your plans are to handle these home grown threats that are like a blade to our necks.”
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His words break the silence, as well as the order of these proceedings. However, if any of the officials is expected to talk out of turn, it is the Oda. Further, what he says is on everyone’s mind as is, and so the man’s social faux-pas serves as a relief. However, the idea that Murasaki’s actions are condoned, is one of controversy. The crowd begins to whisper, already divided. Most were unsure how to feel about the previous Commander’s actions. If he hadn’t done as he did, then they wouldn’t be here, but the precedent he has set puts all of their lives at risk.
"In betraying the Central Forty-six, he has saved the Seireitei. Becoming his successor, I do not expect you to be him, but I expect the same level of conviction, Commander Kagayaki."
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Affirming Yakitsuku’s words, and vocalizing her own support, is the wizened Matriarch of the Oki Clan, Naoki Oki. With her statement, the views of the Central Forty Six are made clear. Having two of the Noble Officials so clearly share their opinion on the matter essentially settles it. Now it would be unwise to openly oppose their views, and so despite any feelings to the contrary, the Central Forty Six will publicly condone Murasaki.
Settling this matter with her own outburst, Naoki also receives no backlash, as once again the members of the central Forty Six are grateful for the vocalization. Now, she sits upright, gracefully poised in her chair. Her piercing green eyes fixated on the Commander standing before them. She has heard of the man, even different sides of him, as told to her by his long time friend, and now Lieutenant, Honoka. She, who has praised his morality, labeling him a good man. Even having a close relationship to her daughter, she spares him no familiarities, and addresses him formally, just as the Head Lieutenant does. It is clear to everyone where the Lieutenant gets her discipline and strict demeanor from, yet unlike her daughter, Naoki does not mask her words behind a disarming smile. Her face is stern, and her glare sharp. Even so, her intentions are true and even noble in a sense. Yes, she seeks recognition for her family, but unlike those slain here by Shobatsu Murasaki, she will not do it at the expense of Rukongai citizens. The Oki Matriarch hopes that if she, or anyone in her family, ever betray their duty to Seireitei and its citizens, that the Commander does not waiver in dealing justice.
Around her she sees familiar faces, and others she wished to never lay eyes on again. She sees the Hoshi and Gekkō, also elected along with her and Kohaku, to represent western districts. Would their interests align in some way to help those in the lower Rukongai districts, as the Oki have been steadily doing? Or were they here for selfish reasons? The man from the Hoshi clan seems stern, with the grimace on his face. They never exchanged words, except at a few events involving the nobles, but nothing past pleasantries. From the North, she sees an Oda sitting among the elected officials. The emblem on his sash displays the man's insignia from the warrior clan. Her face nearly expresses disgust before her gaze moves on, catching a glimpse of a Mukuro elder. Those were even more rare to see than the Oda. She's heard enough of the infamous clan, but does not judge them as others do. After all, Honoka's opinion of Captain Mukuro seems to paint a different picture for the matriarch than that which others see. In truth, she never expected to see either clan elected to such a position, especially not the Mukuro after the young Lord's actions, but life is full of mysteries. Perhaps the name carries a far heavier weight in the outer districts of the Rukongai, but naivety isn't one of her traits. She's aware the Mukuro are not philanthropists, the circumstances of their election remain vague, and their goals are complete mysteries, but she hopes they can cooperate.
The Shihoin, Feng, Kyoraku, the Ukitake, Omaeda, the Kira, the Kasumioji, the Oki, the Oda, Hoshi, the Gekkō, Kiyoshi and...the Mukuro. Various clans from various backgrounds, districts gathered in the Central Compound, gathered together at the call of Higen the Knight, Higen the Hero...Higen the Commander. The Oki sit in their designated seats, watching and observing those who now sit as their peers under the same roof, bearing the same titles. Assessing the positions, importance and motives of those that surround them, convinced of their own deluded sense of benevolence, blinded by their own arrogance and hypocrisy. What they call “Good Will” used to curry favors, others call leverage and blackmail...threats disguised in a smile.
The Hoshi sits contemplating, wary of those that surround him. He is an anomaly, sitting mentally divided, yet united all the same. He believes himself out his scope when forced into a room with those of higher or darker status. He hopes for the best while silently bracing himself for the worst to come. The Gekkō sits amused by all that surrounds him, that is until his eyes catch something, or..rather someone that disturbed his amusement. He at the very least appears to know when to restrain himself, though how long he could be so disciplined remained to be seen.
The Oda surveys his surroundings, but more importantly fixes his gaze, his focus on the very man who summoned them, the newly appointed Commander. As a warrior, the Oda treats these presidings as a battleground, and studies Higen as he would study his opponent, gleaning whatever information possible from the man’s mannerisms and body language. Aside from Higen however, there is another who has caught his attention, the same individual who has garnered the attention of several others gathered in this room — Koshi Mukuro.
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The Mukuro Elders sits there silently amongst the crowd of delegates, perfectly situated in his seat. Since his arrival the aged man has not moved an inch, he has not blinked and even those in proximity of him could not determine if the man even drew breath — not a sliver of reiatsu emanated from his cold form. True to his clan’s namesake, it was as if a corpse sat in the chair, a cold body deprived of all life. Both the Oki and the Oda have their own expectations from the Commander, the former forcing Higen to uphold the same standards as his predecessor to the same degree if not higher, while the latter seeks to hear the Commander’s plans to address the future of their home, protecting it those that would do it harm. Perhaps the other clan representatives held their own thoughts, had their own questions, worries and expectations, one could only wonder how Higen would be able to address all of them. As for the Mukuro — he remains silent, still saying nothing, seemingly heeding no one in the room save the man who stood at the helm of the Gotei 13. For now he would remain as he was, he needn’t act, he needn’t speak, he need only wait patiently.
"Harsh as ever."
Kohaku sighs softly, a wry smile on his face as his Aunt expresses her high expectations of the new Captain Commander. So many things were changing so drastically, very suddenly. There was little time for anyone to really wrap their heads around the notion that the room they currently inhabited was the very same room their predecessors were slain in. Another sigh escapes him, as he catches sight of a clan loathed by the Matriarch. He's pleasantly surprised when she shows no hostility, but she won't even acknowledge their presence. Kohaku on the other hand, hopes to possibly begin amicable relations with them, and the other clans to unify together and ensure the stability of their home. The Oda, like the Mukuro, are notorious, but without their clan’s involvement, each offering their own merit to the forces, the Seireitei would not be where it stands today. He sees the benefit of having each clan in a seat, their influence, power, and connections are valuable assets to have. Not only for the Soul Society, but for the Oki as well. Details of the Kiyoshi and the Hoshi elude him, but he is eager to change that. Surely the clans have aligning interests that will result in friendlier relations between those present here. As for the new Commander, Kohaku looks him over. The man had to be positively nervous. What would he say? Especially to Naoki, who is clearly highly critical of him. The eagerness in his eyes for the coming interactions is impossible to hide.
Finally, the time had come. Every single elected official of the new Central Forty Six had arrived and taken their seat. While there were Forty Two members, the truth is, that only Eight had true power. The other members would follow the lead of the main Eight, forming parties to back the Nobles, as is always the case in such prestigious positions. So, of these Eight, who would be the most influential member of them all? Who among them was chosen to represent the Central Forty Six in its entirety, to be the voice behind the governing body?
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Anguish
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“That is enough.”
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Kyosai Tsunayashiro, the most powerful man in the Soul Society. Powerful, not because of his ability, but because of his prestige. The Tsunayashiro are the wealthiest and most influential of the Four Great Noble Houses, above even the Shihoin and Kuchiki in their prime. Kyosai is the matriarch of the Tsunayashiro, and thus the most powerful among them. It is no secret that he represents the Four Great Noble Houses all in one, here to represent the interests of the nobles who Shobatsu had nearly removed from power. With this social upset, Kyosai represents a return to the old ways, he represents maintaining the status quo, and the power, of the Four Great Houses. With such influence, it was a simple feat to ensure that over half of the newly elected members were from one of the Four Noble Clans. This means that Kyosai holds the Majority Vote, ensuring that the Central forty Six remains under the stranglehold of Noble interests. No fool however, Kyosai’s task is equally to restore the reputation of the clans as it is to maintain their influence. The two were one of the same. Where other nobles might be considered paragons of corruption, Kyosai is the embodiment of duty. He has become the speaker of the house, and thus it his word that is law amongst the Central Forty Six.
“Higen Kagayaki. By the power invested in the Central Forty Six, we the governing body of the Seireitei, who represent the hearts and minds of the people of the Soul Society, officially bestow upon you the title of Captain Commander of the Gotei Thirteen. From here on, you shall be recognized as Commander Kagayaki, and shall report to us directly.”
The sound of a gavel echoes throughout the great hall. With Forty Six new bodies filling the wooden seats of the once empty hall, the sound does not carry as far as it would have mere hours ago. Truly, it felt as though the hall had been restored to life, the tragedy of its emptiness replaced with the hope of a greater future.
“The will of this council has already been made known. You will not be held accountable for the crimes of your predecessor. Nor will this Central Forty Six address the allegations against our own. Instead, our presence here in this hall signifies a new union, a return to the bond forged thousands of years ago. A bond so powerful that it toppled the Soul King. The Gotei Thirteen did not fall against Aizen, it did not falter against Yhwach, and it will not be destroyed by Murasaki. We have proven to hold the faith of the entire Soul Society, being elected under these new circumstances. Though you benefit from the same man who created these circumstances, you were chosen by a criminal, not by the people.”
A pause in the Speaker’s opening speech, as his eyes descend in judgment down, not upon Kagayaki, but upon the Zanpakuto that he brandishes on his hip. A sign of distrust. Even Murasaki had chosen to turn over his blade. Had the Warlord’s actions set the standard, that Captain Commander and Central Forty Six were not to be trusted, that they were to hold blades at each other's throats until the other dared to draw blood?
“So tell us, Commander, what faith should we place in you?”
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The link between spirit and shinigami muddles, becoming fuzzy, until it finally severs. The two cannot directly communicate. Yet, even in her fear, she doesn't allow herself to freeze. She can't. Both their lives depend on it, now she is more alert than ever. Every burst of reiatsu, every fluctuation of reiryoku. Her attention doesn't focus on the conversation. Instead, it focuses on the room, the objects. His restraints and supports. She's watchful; careful and skillful as Honoka. How could she not be? They are one. Born with her, and eventually dying with Honoka Oki, this zanpakuto spirit is but a reflection of her soul. A reflection of her heart. And with her wielder unafraid of judgement, so too is Higanbana. What she truly fears.. what truly chills her to the core... is his power. It's vastness, and mercilessness. She only has a single chance to act and won't spare a moment to hesitation if Honoka does.
This disconnect from her zanpakuto unsettles Honoka. Always able to use her abilities at the mere thought. Now unable to without a delay. Those mere moments of time could determine if she lives or dies. This is certainly out of her norm. Despite this... inconvenience, her expression doesn't change. Vibrant green eyes remain fixed on the shackled man. He's not leaving her sight. She watches carefully as the chains clash against the metal, repositioning him, allowing him to now hear her and respond to her. His silence does not deter her, he was a man of few words. Her eyes narrow as she focuses. She's attentive. Her senses are hypervigilant; listening, watching, sniffing, sensing-- He's dangerous and she keeps herself at a safe distance. Despite the space between the two, with his spiritual pressure being so powerful as it leaks despite being riddled with seals and mechanisms with intricate machinations set to prevent the release of energy, his flows freely. White and red reiatsu surrounds her body as it's steadily released to nullify the waves of flames that clash against her.
"I thought you should know, the transition of power has been quite smooth. Very few oppose the Shining Knight as the new Captain Commander."
She pauses briefly, drawing a breath to continue speaking. A half truth. She spares him the behind the scenes. All the chaos and stress that added time to the beauty's face. The mayhem in First, Sixth, and Tenth divisions, to name a few. Or even the mess in the world of the living. Surely, Captain Oda has it under control. she simply skips to the last topic they spoke before he imprisoned himself. His last orders to her as Captain Commander. Her sentimentality shows through her façade in this exchange, speaking leisurely as if nothing is any different. But with the public the story was another altogether. Most were excited, his fans raved. Many agreed, and a few were content. But those were politics, not everyone can be pleased.
"...And the new Central Forty-six has been elected.
A-Ah! Like I said, I had some questions, so let me continue. What happened then? That day.
...I ask that you not spare any details please."
It was strange. A week ago, this type of exchange would be happening in the Captain's Hall, where he often sat. Her briefing him, reading things out loud, her voice breaking any silence. His minute cues plenty for her to to discern whether to continue, move on, or cease altogether. He seldom showed interest in the mundane things of their day to day life, even so, he listened. and answered questions honestly. Yet this is a gamble. She has no real guarantee he will answer truthfully, or if he'll fabricate a story. She has to listen carefully to his words, how he speaks. Dissect every single thing that is uttered from his lips.
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BSD

Administrator
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. “I thought you should know, the transition of power has been quite smooth. Very few oppose the Shining Knight as the new Captain Commander."
All is dark. So much is concealed. The Muken’s darkness, the torturous armor, the self-inflicted blindness. Every aspect of this encounter is meant to prevent these two from seeing each other. Subtle cues, passive observance, loyal familiarity, so much was left unsaid between the two souls, who, for hundreds of years, communicated only through familiarity. Even now, alone together in every sense of the word, their union is obstructed by untold obtrusions.
Sealed within his shell of spirit reducing steel, Shobatsu is concealed from Honoka’s senses. His reiatsu pours through the cracks and chains, like steam through a kettle, but physically, he does not move. The physical cues she is used to, are deprived from her, as is the reaction of the man she speaks too. Certainly, he does not move, nor has his reiatsu spiked in response to her presence. He has not reacted at all. Has his wound changed him so? Perhaps he does not know the woman who stands before him, his closest companion rendered a stranger.
"...And the new Central Forty-six has been elected.”
Yet, unlike Honoka, who stands on foreign ground, Shobatsu is at home. He has spent more of his life imprisoned in this way than he has on the surface. The Great Judicator is not unnerved, his composure is not a front to hide his uncertainty. He is like a brick wall, unresponsive, unmoving, unable to do anything but speak....and listen.
With only two of his senses unsealed, Shobatsu is able to perceive more than those who have lived their entire life looking only through their eyes. The woman before him is composed, but she hides behind her professionalism in order to avoid having to address her insecurity. Her voice strains, impercibtle to most, yet enough to reveal the dishonesty in her words. Her tone reveals to him three things: First, that she seeks his happiness and comfort, even now. Second, that even if the transition she refers to has gone smooth, the circumstances surrounding it have placed a burden on the Soul Society. Finally, third, that this burden has fallen upon her shoulders heavily. The woman that stands before him is not broken, but she is fractured.
Beyond her voice, Shobatsu can hear the rapid beating of her heart. This nervousness could be attributed to many things, the threat of the Muken, the threat of imprisonment for this visit, the threat of Shobatsu himself. However, Shobatsu does not taste fear in the air, at least, not a fear of death. Instead, the pheromones of the woman’s skin reveal her true intentions. What she fears is not violence, but revelation.
“A-Ah! Like I said, I had some questions, so let me continue. What happened then? That day.”
She begins to crack under the pressure of Shobatsu’s silence, just as body and soul have done under the stress he has caused. Left to her own devices, she felt it most comfortable to initiate this conversation with a report. The familiarity of their roles serves as a relief from these new circumstances. However, where as before such a report was part of the duty of a Commander, now it falls upon the ears of a Criminal. Even now she uses the air of professionalism to conceal her true question, framing this visit as an investigation, a final statement. Had she forgotten Shobatsu’s warning? That the man he would become is not the man she and Higen knew? It is clear that she does not want a recounting of events. What she wants is for a stranger to clarify the last words of a dead man. What has cracked her beautiful demeanor is not the weight of her position, but the wound of uncertainty that Shobatsu has inflicted. She wants closure from a man who no longer exists.
“...I ask that you not spare any details please."
Now she has said her piece. Now it is Honoka’s turn to observe Shobatsu. Ever vigilant, she, like her former superior, has trained to utilize every sense. She is not ignorant to the world around her, not overly reliant upon solely what she sees. With baited breath and eager eyes, she nervously awaits Shobatsu’s response. Instead, what she hears is the rattling of chains. The air around her smells of sulfur, as the heat of Shobatsu’s flames begins to caress her skin, a warm touch, hotter than she has ever felt. Just as Shobatsu could taste her anticipation, so now can she taste his aggression, as finally, she sees the plates of armor that imprison him unfold and fall against the black void of the floor.
When the Central Forty Six first released Shobatsu, they chose only to unseal his ears, so that he may hear the proposition they were willing to make. Instead, he broke free of his confines, and seized the title of Commander for himself. Honoka had not only unsealed his ears, but his mouth too. She had, perhaps knowingly, made it twice as easy for him to escape, and now, he has.
“An eternity of darkness, and yet still you waste my time.”
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Shobatsu manifests mere feet from Honoka, no sooner than the armor hitting the floor. The distance she placed between them is rendered mute within an instant. The Reiatsu she flared in defense is rendered useless, equally nullified, as an inferno of purple flame furiously erupts from the silhouette of the man turned monster. The heat of this fire would be enough to incinerate most souls, but Honoka was an exception among exceptions. Her natural defenses, coupled with her self-justification, prevented her from being fully harmed by the Flames of Judgment. Yet they raged nonetheless.
“You do not seek my recollection. You seek justification. A reason to release me and return to my side. There is none.”
The only indication that Honoka shouldn’t run for her life, is the fact that her body is not prosterated upon the floor. Shobatsu had chosen not to subjugate her. This means, that despite the display, the aura of death that swallows the darkness may simply be Murasaki’s remaining Reiatsu, tempered even now by the regulating force of his legendary scarf. There is a chance, however finite, that he does not intend to kill the Oki.
“The man I was to you is gone now. He exists only as a fantasy.”
The flaming titan takes a step closer to the defiant amazon. Even with her great stature, the man towers over her, perhaps the only soul to ever make the woman feel small. The purple hue of his flames burns even brighter, rendering his hulking frame into a black mass, while nearly depriving Honoka of her eyesight. Was he trying to break her line of sight, or merely intimidate her, was this a tactic, a distraction for an incoming assault?
“However, by coming here you have proven your loyalty. I will not kill you. Instead, for this moment, I will allow you…”
Suddenly a hand grasps Honoka’s back. Is this the attack she was anticipating? Perhaps his reiatsu had proven to be a distraction after all. For every encounter she has ever had with Shobatsu, Honoka has remained alert, observant, on guard. Yet, now, where she could easily have her life robbed from her, she would instead feel a sensation of comfort. This man, this embodiment of power and destructive force, the paragon of justice and judgment, now was anything but. No...now...he was gentle.
“...to live out your fantasy.”
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The reluctant commander stands in place. And while he has robbed himself of his eyesight momentarily, his hearing gathers an earful. The pattering of feet atop flooring that previously welcome a much more manipulative crowd found itself echoing throughout the massive compound. They had begun to arrive. The members of The New C46. As they file in, the commander presents a face of stone. It is sculpted to be statuesque, a portrayal of order and leadership for an eternity. As to be completely expected, the room is filled with murmurs and whispers. While the new members of the Central Forty Six were elected officials—those with status, rank, and popularity throughout the many districts—it did not make them completely immune to the guileful antics that surrounded their predecessors. It did not escape Higen that a small few, or even a great many, of this collection of individuals sat here only with either their own—or their clan interests in mind. What mattered—however—that it was a number far less than what it had been in days previous.
A few of the individuals stand out after taking their seats. Some draw resemblance to those he held dear, others share a sinister glare that he has seen before but on the face of another. Most, however, are complete strangers, citizens of a Rukongai in which Higen did not spend much of his time. Normally, the sound of a gavel striking wood, a loud uproar of a commanding voice, a collective call to order; one or all of these things would find itself quelling the whispers and small talk that accumulated throughout the room. Instead, a rather powerful figure bolsters his voice—like the rallying gjallarhorn, he speaks the mind of nearly everyone in the room.
“Commander Kagayaki. The Rukongai has become a beacon for disaster, the Gotei has become a bed for treacherous growth. Nobles using relics to obtain power and seated Shinigami killing each other. I cast no blame upon you, none on Murasaki-sama, and none upon the Gotei Thirteen. I merely would like to know what your plans are to handle these home grown threats that are like a blade to our necks.”
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The moment the Oda Clansman is finished the murmurs that he’d broke into an eerie silence persist again. They actually intensify, the elder offering a spell of confidence for those in the room who were ordinarily more silent. The Commander remains unfettered, his lips do not even part to speak as he prepares for the comments that will surely follow. He is well aware of how this council operates, and he has no intention on enforcing any protocol that will stray away from the democracy they had built.
"In betraying the Central Forty-six, he has saved the Seireitei. Becoming his successor, I do not expect you to be him, but I expect the same level of conviction, Commander Kagayaki."
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The Oki matriarch is the next to speak. Not unlike her daughter, the elder’s words—while pleasant—strike like an elongated lash. There is a friendliness to them, a maternal nature, yet on the back end of her speech Higen feels that there is consequence for responding to her incorrectly. The Commander’s arms cross against his chest, his face bereft of emotion and thought, as if his response to them all is already scripted. He maintained the stature of a man who had mentally, already put all of their worries, thoughts, and trepidations to rest.
"Harsh as ever."
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The second Oki in the room speaks in response, a small response and lowly in tone yet it only reassures what Higen had already felt about the Matriarch’s words.
“That is enough.”
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A man who stood out far more than any of his peers make’s his presence known. As his presence becomes known, it also becomes clear that it is a commanding one. It is clear that his voice, is the same as the entire Rukongai, as well as every individual in this room. He is the leading voice, the leading vote, and it is he who Higen needs to convince. It is this man, once convinced, who can convince the entirety of Soul Society.
“Higen Kagayaki. By the power invested in the Central Forty Six, we the governing body of the Seireitei, who represent the hearts and minds of the people of the Soul Society, officially bestow upon you the title of Captain Commander of the Gotei Thirteen. From here on, you shall be recognized as Commander Kagayaki, and shall report to us directly.”
Higen had already taken the job of Commander unwillingly, but perhaps this was the first act that made it official. His position in the Gotei 13 had become paramount—and there was no way to reverse it, with all of the Central Forty Six as his witness. Where the former commander despised and was often conspired against by the former C46, it is Higen who will attempt to set a lasting foundation between himself, and this sacred council. He nods in response, Master Tsunayashiro bangs his gavel to sift through the former poisonous air that encompassed this hall; for them all, this was a fresh start.
“The will of this council has already been made known. You will not be held accountable for the crimes of your predecessor. Nor will this Central Forty Six address the allegations against our own. Instead, our presence here in this hall signifies a new union, a return to the bond forged thousands of years ago. A bond so powerful that it toppled the Soul King. The Gotei Thirteen did not fall against Aizen, it did not falter against Yhwach, and it will not be destroyed by Murasaki. We have proven to hold the faith of the entire Soul Society, being elected under these new circumstances. Though you benefit from the same man who created these circumstances, you were chosen by a criminal, not by the people.”
“So tell us, Commander, what faith should we place in you?”

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The Commander heeds the words of them all, listens to every intricate detail. Where there is usually an uproar of whispers and opinions after every individual’s speech, there is silence after Tsunayashiro delivers his forceful question. In more ways than one, it is interrogatory. His statement about not being chosen by the people comes off as threatening, as if Higen has not earned the coat he wears, has not fought many battles on behalf of the same people that did not “choose him”. He scoffs softly, not in anger or frustration, but in humor. Those who do not need to fight, often are unfamiliar with the sacrifices that are made every day. They lack the compassion to see the faces of fallen comrades, or of enemies they’ve slain—the number of such being zero. He slides his front foot in front of him to begin pacing back and forth. The moment his geta slide from their previous position they reveal the smallest specks of blood, a spot missed in a thorough cleaning war against the filthy crime scene of this room. It lies an example, an example that even the mighty Shobatsu Murosaki’s blood can be spilled, that even he can face defeat. Perhaps the most powerful, and/or most dangerous Shinigami Soul Society has ever seen, someone for their enemies to fear, and now he lies behind bars.
“Many of you know who I am. I would assume all of you do but perhaps that is untrue. I have resided in Soul Society longer than some of you, and I have seen the faces behind your parquetted panel boards shift and change through death and deceit. I have served multiple commanders, I have killed more enemies then you all have taken breaths. I may not have been chosen by the people, but I have risked my own life, as well as the life of my comrades, for the people countless times. I have saved the lives of the people, countless times, I have spent time among the people, and have had those who could be considered the people, join me in my career as a Shinigami. I may not have been elected, but the people have, and will choose me.”
The Commander takes a breath, a huff like a disgruntled animal. He stops in his pacing, standing front and center before the entire crowd. From his body language they should be able to tell that he is not finished speaking. The faces of many turn fowl, perhaps taking what he has said as insult, but it was not meant to be such—it was only the truth.
“You should put your trust in me… because you have no other choice.”
There is a plethora of gasps and ruffled brows, the Commander stares at Tsunayashiro directly, asserting the fact that the Commander does not, and has never, feared the chain of command. It is not an insult, but a display of dominance, a display of the type of man that will be leading Soul Society’s forces. Was this a threat of some kind? It couldn’t possibly be.
“If you want me to step down today, I have no issue in doing so. To be quite honest with you all this is a job I do not and have never wanted. Then the questions arises. Who do you then appoint to lead the Gotei 13? Who are you confident in? Who has the power? The will? The drive to do what is necessary? Do you appoint one of you all, perhaps? Maybe you would like to use your zanpakuto to defend us against an invasion. Or maybe you would like to lead all of the Shinigami against a horde of Quincy battalions.”
The Commander points at two random individuals among the crowd, both looking rather startled by his requests, yet the point clearly stuck.
“Many of you are of affluent status, but allow me to be the first to tell you that your names alone will not uphold Soul Society’s safety—it will not protect our realm from its many threats. An Oda Captain exists as a betrayal of everything we know as Shinigami, and as souls, yet it his curse that may keep everyone in this room alive. The Mukuro Shadow was one of the first to attempt the treacherous act of an attempted assassination against a man who once held the same title you have just bestowed upon me. Yet it is his skill as a warrior, and as an assassin that has made him one of our most valuable assets. Your names are worn and tarnished medals hanging in an abandoned room. They are laurels in which you have all chosen to rest upon, but the ability of the individuals that holds them is what will keep the Gotei 13 strong.
You are allowed to feel however you like about the previous commander and his crimes. And you are allowed to feel however about my connection to him. But there is one thing my last meeting with him has made very clear to me. We are entirely too weak to deal with our enemies as-is. Shobatsu—regardless of what you believe, was responsible for supplying a lasting peace. Most see this as a gift, a gift from a tyrant, or to others, like myself, a gift from someone just. But no, this is a curse. The absence of war has made us frail, brittle, weak to the touch. Those directly under my tutelage are no exception. For about eighty-five percent of the entire Gotei 13, it is not only been peace through the entirety of their career as a soldier, but their entire lifetimes. They lack the battle-hardened grit that allows me to stand before you all today. Are you even confident in the ability of the Captains before you? One Captain has foolishly gotten himself killed. A wild dog with a Seventh Division Haori runs rabid in the rukongai, and a frightened boy flees from combat behind his Fourth Division walls. Does this give you the impression that we can conquer the Wandereich of old? Or perhaps deal with an organized Arrancar threat?”

“No.”
He pauses once more, to catch his breath, and change his cadence. He does not wish to sound too forceful, yet his point needs to get across, no matter how many feelings are hurt, or how many questions are raised, or answered for that matter.
“Give me One-Hundred Years. In One-Hundred Years I will personally take the Gotei 13 into my hands. I will sculpt it—I will be the iron to their iron; a whetstone. Allow us to be the bane to any and all threats that would come our way, from the possible escape of Shobatsu Murosaki, to the reforming of the Wandereich. If you give me this trust, and this time, I can assure you we will be worthy of the name given to us. Lend me your trust, as your..”
“Commander.”
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