[BSD-RP] Soul Society: Northeast Seireitei

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護廷十三隊
Four Days Later
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Four days in the darkness was all he needed, scripting up different medical plans and studying past theories performed by doctors present before him just to pass the time. Undisturbed sleep grew foreign to the Fairy for all that met him when he closed his eyes and laid to rest were the grating, maddening noise of rattling chains and waves of red. The mania that came with sleep deprivation was exciting at times, allowing space to come up with raving ideas that left him in teary, laughing fits. But at other times, it was hauntingly bleak, inviting his still lingering, self-doubt to present itself in full force.
Even events that didn’t even correlate to Yū’s own decision making such as Captain Kojima’s sudden death and the strangely rapid shift of power in the Seireitei still somehow gnawed at him. Such was the curse of being empathetic surrounded by cold-blooded killers– unexplainable delusion. The young Captain knew he would have to start learning to dissociate both personal and unrelated failures as measures of his own self-worth if he was ever going to truly grow. Perhaps, that was the intended reaction from Commander Murasaki’s double-edged gift– for Yū to learn how to respond to accountability and take it as growth, not weakness. With two dead as a result of his performance, all he could do was mourn... and vow to do better... whatever that meant.
The feeling of failure and not being able to do anything to remedy it… he couldn’t even begin to imagine that sensation at a grander scale. His mind flashes back to his selfish berating of both Kyomu and Mahō days ago for their actions during the Kōtotsu’s sudden attack. Now the two of them face the consequences of their actions; One fighting for his freedom in fear of losing all he has worked for and the other, already having paid his toll with his life. If Yū at least could have expressed an apology to the both of them... “I was too harsh...” he realizes far too late, biting down solidly on his pen. The door suddenly creaks open, allowing the hallway light to creep into his dark office.
“Both Junko Izumi and Emi Kurochi are waiting for you in the meeting room as you requested, Captain.”
“I’ll be in there in a moment,” Yū responds, turning his head over his shoulder to dismiss the nurse with a simple nod. He gathers the papers before him and shoves them into one messy file, containing all of the compiled information he would need for his short meeting with his 4th and 5th seat.
Instead of complaining and sulking as was common for him in past times of hardship, the young Captain would instead find himself purposefully overworking himself as an escape of sorts from his many failures in just this week alone: His embarrassing actions before the other Captains, followed by a train wreck of a display at both Karakura Town and Naruki City which resulted in losing two Shinigami and countless humans in the process. It seemed unshakeable guilt was a great motivator in terms of work ethic, as stacks of filled paper were neatly placed all throughout the doctor’s office.
Aside from personal deliberation in re-arranging officer ranks in his own division, a large chunk of his time had been spent on finding ways to reduce the staggering admission rates for patients. While life-threatening injuries of course couldn’t be disregarded, the amount of Shinigami that had found themselves in the relief division with critical wounds was unusually overwhelming. Even though Former Commander Murasaki’s compromise with the young Captain and healthy budget increase seemed more than substantial on the surface, in reality, it was merely an invitation for more stress to weigh heavily on his already weary shoulders. With their current workforce now split between station nurses and on-call field medics, this odd phenomenon would only become even more noticeable of an issue.
The first step would be to find the unfortunate ones responsible… the 11th division. Statistically, (and Yū had done the math, twice, thrice– perhaps five times over to catch any possible errors) the 11th division alone had accounted for exactly 46% of all patient admissions for the past *several* years. It made sense given their infuriatingly uncooperative personalities and their role as a combat division, but within that 40%... the Devil Jinn alone was responsible for nearly half of those admissions; The frequency as well only increased, so much so that it seemed that he was merely getting weaker with each training session, landing him back in the relief station once more week after week. Overworking a recovering body would do little to improve his status, only further draining him of strength which explained the upward trend of his familiar presence in the relief station. The thought is already redundant to Captain Nakamoto; He had already had this discussion with Jinnosuke plenty of times, only for the topic to be brushed off time and time again, instead being given empty promises that he would simply get stronger... whatever that meant.
“If only it was that easy, idiot…”
… Yū vocalizes in response to his reminiscing. And as the Captain suspected, it wouldn’t be easy at all. But, perhaps if he had the right help, the crushing load would be manageable.
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Wordlessly, he enters the meeting room and shuffles through at a sluggish pace. The folders in his hands drop messily on his desk as he plops onto the chair with his hands shielding his face. Yū scoots himself in as his hands drop to reveal his cadaverous expression– dark circles, red eyes, and pale lips stain his face, not at all helped by his apathetic look.
While there are many things to address with the two Shinigami seated before him, he instead starts off... with an apology. Despite his lethargic entrance, Yū’s voice is anything but cold.
“Sorry for keeping you two waiting… hopefully, it wasn’t too long.”
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Emi was thwarted in handing off one of her triplicates to Miss Hageshi, and had the extra stabbed into a corkboard behind her with a broken syringe needle. She hadn’t forgiven Beraham from sitting his fat tabby ass on a needle as he had, but it was hard to stay mad at his delightfully chubby face. Kooda and Saahasik accompanied her to her small corner where she tinkered away. The old gelatin sheet project now had been scrapped for the time being, as the chemical compound was proving to be a bit too effective. She pulled down her sleeve a bit to hide the bandages she had put on due to self trials she had performed over the last few days. Though there was no wound underneath, she wasn’t sure if the mending would last or if it were temporary. Even though she was adamant to stash away what she was doing to herself for her curiosity’s sake, she had kept a log in her personal files.
Code:
Trial Report: [b]Gel Bandage[/b]
Processor: [b]Emi Kurochi[/b]
[i]Day One:[/i] Implementing the bandages on the field was a loss, I failed to remember the 
restrictions on those allowed to pass through the gate. Not only was field-testing barred in 
that respect, as I would have hoped to do this away from as many eyes as possible... But, 
I also was unable to hand in one of the triplicates. Hopefully, the digital copy was received, 
they don’t have read checks on documents as far as I know. I recouped at my lab and stashed 
the project away. Sleep will be beneficial in finding a way, or so I hope.
[i]Day Two:[/i] Meandering the ward, there are far too many nurses and patients to keep 
such things under wraps, I would be better off testing on my feline friends... Or rather. 
That is what I shall do, for now, I believe I have bed sheet changing duties. I will touch 
on this when I have more free time to do this study.
[i]Da y Th re e:[/i] I ha v e cu t op en m y arm, att em ptin g the ba nda ge. It bur ns, 
a litt le but upon fur ther exposure I seem to be unharmed, the scalpel’s pain bothers 
me no more. The slight burning can be chalked up to minor disinfecting. A proper 
wound might sting a little bit more. Hopefully, I can remove this shortly. 
I’m taking the gel sheet off, and to my dismay, it has worked wonderfully in the 
sense that the wound has rapidly sealed however I could now hold a bookmark 
in my arm. The slit is precise like the scalpel but the healing is too exact. Under 
any bad circumstance, if applied to a larger wound the divet would be... Rather 
unsettling to say the least. I understand we are not merciful beings, and blood 
comes to our hands regularly. But deformity? I shan’t be apart of that. I have no 
choice but to reopen the wound and allow it to mend naturally. 
[i]Day Four:[/i] The wound, with help of some diluted mixture, has healed 
wonderfully. Strangely enough, both mends had left no scar, but the prior was 
strange to perceive. I doubt I would be satisfied to send out a diluted serum, but 
I will have to shelf this experiment for the time being. For any other testing in 
future projects, I shall fall back on this diluted serum to erase any scarring that 
may occur from these tests. Self-mutilation is frown upon by myself, and 
presumably the entirety of the Seireitei. I will have to also put this on hold, 
as I have a meeting shortly.
Finishing her notes, she catalogs these scribblings into a neatly organized filing cabinet.
She was adamant about clean files, even if the rest of her workspaces were distraught with chaos
and disaster. She did what she could to tidy away all the mess with the exception of some glassware
and fine-tuned hardware that she refused to re-tune. Turning to her companions for the day, she
smiled at them. Patting their cute noggins, before gesturing at her desk.
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”I have to go to a meeting, try not to cause a disturbance.”
Kooda looked rather down about the notion she implied that he would stay with the bumbly Saahasik, and decided he would accompany her to where this meeting was. Maybe there would be something interesting to lay upon, he enjoyed a good rest. On the other hand, the spry kitten that Saahasik was had decided to follow them both. He pretended to be sneaky but Kooda only huffed at his behavior, it was unbecoming as a helping hand to pretend to be a silent and deadly killer. Kooda had recalled her mentioning which room it was prior and took a seat next to the door, looking over with a monotonous gaze at the pacing Emi with Saahasik at her heels.
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Emi was too focused on not getting lost, though with how many meeting rooms there were her mind was getting frazzled. She peeked into the rooms and after much deliberation, the number was struck into her mind. Saahasik trotted into the back of her heels as her abrupt stop wasn’t expected by the little one. She turned to pick up the kitten, placing his small frame upon her shoulder. He curled up nicely and stared about the higher perspective with awe. As the short robust thing he was, he didn’t see from this height often. Large and hopeful irises took in all the sights he could. Emi smiled, patting the top of this small loaf's head and turning once more towards the door. Kodak stood the walk around her legs and follow her in as she pried open the door.
Emi entered the space, aware that she had chosen to arrive a little bit too early, she figured she would’ve been more lost. Luckily with her feline friends around it’s easier to navigate. She stood there, tending to her friends as well as pulling down her sleeve to conceal the bandages more. Even if they were seen she wasn’t all that concerned as there wasn’t much to see underneath, but she'd rather avoid its detection altogether. Emi waited patiently and was rather content being on her feet for extensive periods. Giving herself a small circle in which to exist until told otherwise, she kept Kooda close to her as to not have him stray too far into unfamiliar territory.
Eventually, another member of her squad showed up, someone she had only met briefly once; Miss Izumi. Emi had little previous contact with her or even conversation, so her lips remained in their eternal smile. She didn’t speak when she came in and continued to wait for their captain; another being she hadn’t had much contact with. In fact, Emi didn’t even know what they looked like aside from maybe a portrait. She noted the rather cute face she had seen, but faces don’t depict personalities or mannerisms; especially not in a portrait.
It wasn’t long until the door was opened once more, and with her smile still intact she bowed her head slightly in respect. Though, her eyes flash a hint of concern for the state of the Captain. The portraits never live up to the real thing, do they? Nevertheless, it is no shame to be weary in light of recent events. Kooda took notice that there were more people arriving and got up from his laying down position behind Emi, instead, he came around to sit before her feet and stare up tiredly at the desk. He thought to jump up but waited for the right time. Saahasik was soundly asleep, dead to the world and its motions.
Emi had wanted to bring out maybe a cup of tea, or some kind of stimulant for what she could assume to be her male Captain. The portraits say, Captain, not Mr. or Mrs. so everything was kind of a guess. Maybe a snack from her personal stashes? Emi shrugged off the thought mentally, she didn’t know enough to entertain anyone’s specific tastes. She condemned her worry to be a minor thought in her consciousness, as she watched him trudge over and sink into the chair. However, her lip tugged as he sat there and apologized, though she didn’t lose her smile and didn’t say anything.. She had oodles of comfort to give. While mostly cold to everyone, as an ice pick was lodged deeply into her emotions, she found a fondness for someone willing to take her in.. even if she had never met the person.
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She had no idea what Miss Izumi thought, nor did she care at this current moment. But even still, she pulled a hand to cover a less than normal smiling expression to glance over. An apology from the captain, Emi felt this was a rare occurrence but also a wildly unnecessary one. Surely, Miss Izumi would speak up her emotions. Surely..?
 

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The days had been anything but uneventful. Many injured continued to pour into the clinic, Junko doing her best to continue to shoulder the weight alone. She had not dared bother the Captain during these times. The man had never said a harsh word toward her. Fear was not what kept her away. The stress and guilt that poured from him was nearly a palpable sensation, wounds she would not prod. Having kept busy enough to not quite have the time, Junko had not heard exactly what had happened all around her in the last week. The largest of the events, the most severe that resonated within all of the Seireitei was never far from her ears. These stories told again and again by those that surrounded her.
Though many questions swirled through her mind she did not allow them to pass her lips. She would not bring them to their Captain, whose mood seemed soured by all that had happened. Nor would she ask them of her patients, whom time and time again she hushed from the rumors and tales and reminded them to take care of themselves first and simply rest.
The world began to blur around her. Finding rest in the times she would catch a ride on a passing gurney, sitting on its edge and allowing herself to be pushed along down a hallway before bounding off to her next duty. Her mind wandered to the girl she had sent to deliver her reports to both Second and Sixth Divisions. The girl had yet to return. She bit her lip in thought, the words on the page before her fading into nonsense as her worries took her focus away from her. Had she not yet delivered the reports? She had seemed angry about the entire situation, with Junko herself for her findings. Not blaming her for her loyalty, she had not given the girl such orders to be petty toward her nor to punish her. Her duties were hers regardless of her feelings on the matter. Hard truths had to be swallowed. She was young and hopeful, her eyes still bright and full of the innocence of one never having been betrayed.
More than this, however, was the fact she had not decided to send her findings to those within Seventh. Perhaps it was best. It was within their rights to know. But what would this help now? They certainly craved the blood of the man they blamed for the deaths of their comrades and no soul could blame them. His fate had been sealed by Shusuke Kiyoshi's decision to send him to the Maggot's Nest. More anger within the hearts of the dead member's squad would certainly only cause more trouble.
A long sigh escaped her lips, unbidden. She wished for the wisdom of her Captain on this matter but would not bother him by crawling to him for advice on a matter that did not have a direct effect on Fourth, therefor was not a concern of his at the time. It was a matter of conscious, and hers alone. If she knew where to find Omoni perhaps she would ask this of her, but she had not had the time to seek her out nor had she caught a glimpse of her within the clinic.
"...mi....Miss Izumi!"
The words came to her louder and louder before she realized someone was speaking to her. An apologetic look on her face she turned to the one trying to capture her attention. The woman told her of her presence being requested by the Captain himself for a meeting. The thought invigorated her slightly. Perhaps this would be her chance to glimpse into the mind of the man and what troubled him so. Giving nothing but a nod in return she placed the clipboard she was holding on the desk before her. Following along she was escorted to a room where one already waited within. Only one. Why?
It was the girl Emi, one she had met so briefly during the events in Seventh. A smile upon the woman's face, seemingly as permanent as the one Junko was oft to show. However, it seemed somewhat forced. Taking a seat she did not blame her for this. Junko had not even attempted to fake a grin. Their Captain would know better, would see through the hollow gesture. If she knew him less than perhaps she would be acting the same as the other who had been summoned.
Upon his arrival, the Captain's appearance was more haggard than she had expected or even heard. Her heart ached for the man. Harsh emotions swirled around him though there was no pinpointing exactly what it was that bothered him the most. For a moment she caught a glimpse of the girl casting a glance her way, Junko's face not hiding the confusion she felt. What was that strange look upon Emi's face? Under the current circumstances she would remain silent on this, however her curiosity would not fade. She knew little of the woman, though her behavior toward the detained teacher had showed her to be a caring soul. This was not quite the sensation she gathered now, though Junko had trouble trusting her instincts in that moment. Fatigue had worn her down over all this time. Perhaps dulled her senses. She would not jump to conclusions over a mere look. From her remembrance this would be the first time Emi had met the Captain. Perhaps his disheveled appearance and blunt behavior had shattered some expectation she held of the man.
Brushing the thoughts aside for now she turned her attention to the concerned face of the one who had called upon them. Concern obvious on her face, leaning forward somewhat in her chair with a hundred questions begging to pass her lips.
"Captain..."
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They died before ever having made a sound. His reasons for bringing them there were more important and his current state being worse than she had thought quelled her desires all the more. It was not the time. It was a selfish thing, even considering to begin bombarding him with all that she wondered about. For now, things were as they were and she would learn what she needed when it was time for her to know.
Her worry did not die so simply, urging her onward to do what little she could. Tendrils of her reiastu snaking through the room, reaching out toward their Captain and surrounding him like a warm blanket. She had placed so much care into what flowed through and what would not. A spark of energy, a burst of invigoration. A quieting of his worries. Not so much that they would be forgotten, but taken from a place of high anxiety to a lower rung where perhaps one could look upon them with a clearer eye, to be approached and handled with more ease. A weariness filled her she had not thought possible from her former state however she was relentless. She would not allow the man to refuse, bright eyes set upon him intently. She hoped her words reached him, despite never making a sound. He was not abandoned, he did not have to face his woes in solitude. Though they had not spent much time together she was extremely fond of the man. His treatment of her alone warranted this loyalty yet his reputation solely would give her such devotion.
Settling back in her chair though still remaining at attention, the cloak of her reiatsu still upon the man she made it clear she had finished with her brief but somewhat rude interruption of the meeting he had called. Her attention was now focused on him completely, of this there would be no question.
 

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Jatiri's head wasn't high, step wasn't peppy. He wasn't standing upright, nor was he watching where he was going. He wasn't looking to throw a fit over the ravaged 77th, but his inquisitive mind was cluttered. His mind was a blaring Denreishinki, urging him to be heedful.
Was the Garganta responsible for this disaster? How many souls died as a consequence? Was the shinigami who called for back up still alive?
In his quest for clarity, he ended up with an influx of questions, questions he couldn't answer. Answers escaped him due to his late arrival at the scene, but he vowed to remedy this state of ignorance; indeed, cluelessness was unacceptable. But since Jatiri was alone, surrounded by heaps of rubble, his homecoming came sooner rather than later.
Eventually, he encountered the ninth's barrack gates and a more immediate question. Have the other ninth officers returned? Reaching out to the others was never his strong suit, yet he still felt the inclination to seek them out. He hadn't seen them in a little while and hoped to catch up. His hands pocketed, he kicked the gates wide open and stepped on through and lifted his chin and pivoted a couple of times to get a full view of the interconnected buildings. Already, his eyelids weighed a thousand tons, thanks to the lack of activity in the compound.
Drifting like a snail, Jatiri was drawn to his reliable friend, the ninth's dojo. Upon entering, he thought he might find Kyuuzou & Jiro, hitting the weights, but the place was barren, untouched since the last time the officers all gathered there. His feet dragging the whole way, he swept through offices and living quarters, making his way to the only section of the barracks he had yet to pass.
Undoubtedly, with a conversion to haste, with a collaboration of thudding feet, with a conception of darting eyes, Jatiri landed in a dojoesque space, the captain's space. Yet the captain was no where in sight, no where to see what would happen next. Running his fingers through the dust on Maho's office table, Jatiri stopped to take in the stench of "cat piss" in the air. He eyed a variety of enduring plants, he eyed a pond, he eyed the Dragon's chair. He proceeded to sit on the throne and straighten up and fold his arms.
The next four days increased his heart rate and curiosity. His fists were dynamite, detonating in the air without end; his mind, a chess board, playing out his next move. The more his arms extended in full, the more he worried about the well-being of his absent captain and fellow officers. Then, there was the doomsday in the 77th. He still had minimal knowledge on the matter. He still had a potential scoop on the loose.
Jatiri decided, if not to quell his worries, then at least lighten them. First, he would head to the first division barracks and seek out his captain. If his captain was long gone, the First would probably have some idea on where he'd went. And if they had additional information on the 77th, he could maybe knock out two birds with one stone. Oh, and with the former commander in Muken for assassinating all the members of C46 and a new, fresh bunch of pompous fools said to be arriving today, Jatiri seized his journal and sprinted out the gates.Northeast Seireitei → Central Seireitei
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