[BSD-RP] Soul Society: Northeast Seireitei

[BSD]

>>>>> Arriving from the Eleventh Division to the Fourth Division >>>>
Emerging through the front doors of the hospital was more familiar than the haori rippling at her back. It’d be a week since she had returned to the fourth division. That had been a week of serene peace and quiet and now as she blew into the waiting room and made a bee-line for the receptionist desk, that calm was disrupted. Following close behind her was her guide. She could read the astonishment on the two nurses faces as they looked Omoni up and down. They could not believe what they saw which was their Vice-Captain dressed in a Captain’s haori and not just any haori. The haori belonged to the eleventh division. This couldn’t be right could it?!
“ Where’s the kid?!”
“V-Vice--Um.”
The two looked back and forth wondering if they should call her by her title they knew her to be or the one she appeared to be dressed for. Neither one of them seemed to be able to process what had clearly come to pass and they hadn’t even begun to imagine how their Captain was going to react when he heard the news. Honestly, was it even their place to tell him?
“ Where is he?!”
“ Surgery!”
The one on the left blurted out hoping to quell the anger flashing in Hageshi’s eyes. That rage seemed to bubble away knowing that he being away just could not be helped so getting mad about it wasn’t going to do anything good. Disgruntled, Omoni crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave an impatient huff. Half of the reason she’d come there in the first place had been so that she could inform the kid about her promotion but it looked like that was going to have to wait for a while.
“ Where’s Junko?”
“ Izumi is in the meeting room, 2B.”
“ Stay here.”
Omoni ordered her chaperon to remain where he was and to wait for her until she got back. After that, she headed off in search of the third seat officer Izumi because she remembered that she had something she needed to do. It was actually nestled safe in her pocket but burning to get out. Once she arrived outside the door, she slid it open and entered hoping to find her comrade.
“ Izumi?”

 

[BSD]

In the eyes of Junko, one hundred years had passed in practically the bat of an eye. There was always work to be done in the hospital, along with the occasional missions to the World of the Living. Her first visit, after the subjugation of the hollow they had been sent after, Junko had practically dragged Omoni to the shops in her excitement. The world of humans had changed so much in three hundred years. The trinkets and clothing adorning shop windows fascinated her so much that by their return to the Seireitei her arms were overflowing with her purchases. Most were gifts given to her Captain and Lieutenant, some to other division members. And of course a small glass ballerina she presented to, of all people, Takashi Kiyoshi.
A silly thing for a man, especially one with his personality. However she offered the ornament proudly, pointing to it as he held it with a confused look upon his face. Delight on hers as she explained this was what she had done when she was alive. With that she simply skipped away from him with no further explanation, allowing him to react however he wanted privately. She had never seen it again, wondering sometimes if he had simply thrown it away. Even if this were true she wouldn't have minded, she had simply wanted to show him what a ballerina was, his lost expression when she had said the word being the sole reason she had bought the gift.
Extra time spent working alongside her superiors gave a boost to her confidence. Now able to operate beside them seamlessly, she no longer stood in the corner in fear of getting in their way. She knew what needed to be done, where she was needed and where she wasn't. With them at her side she felt they were capable of anything and everything. Motivated by Omoni she had worked all the harder on her strength, and despite still being quite small the results became noticeable after little time on her strict regimen. Her happiness within Fourth Division previously was undeniable. However the years gave her more certainty with herself and closer relationships with fellow squad members. Most of all, she truly felt at home.
The Captain had made a habit of frequenting a spring, a fact that delighted Junko. With all the chaos they oft experienced she was grateful to hear he was taking care of himself as well. Tucked away in her room for quite some time was a special kimono she had planned to offer him. Dyed in a custom style though still not quite complete, she had yet to have given it to him despite the ever lengthening amount of time she kept it hidden away. With how busy she found herself there was little time to finish it, though she found time before bed each night to work on it. Along with the colors she had picked herself she had decided to, by hand, embroider a pattern upon the outer layer. A simple enough task but one that had eventually required more time to finish than she had planned for. Today was the day. The extremely soft kimono was nearly finished, and if her timing was correct she would have it done in time to leave it in the changing area before he finished with his bath. Hours before her typical waking hour she stole away in the night, finding a quiet place in the corner of the Seireitei where she would not be found nor bothered as she worked.

Smiling fondly at the finished product hours later, excitement bubbled at the prospect of him finally receiving it. Perhaps a bit feminine for him, at the least, to her, it was something she could do. To her dismay, however, upon returning to Fourth Division she found that in her absence she had not only been needed for a delicate procedure on a member from Fifth but also that the Captain was currently in surgery. With a sigh she took the files from the front desk, hiding herself away in a meeting room. In such a place few would come rushing in unless she was needed, leaving her undisturbed unless it was an emergency. It was the perfect time to complete the paperwork for those who had been treated while she was away.
In little time she was nearly done when a familiar sensation came to her, bringing a large smile upon her face with it. Omoni had returned. Junko came to the assumption she would seek out the Captain first, allowing her time with her work before making her way to greet them both. This was shattered as the door flew open, the woman in all her glory standing where the door had previously been. Practically beaming she looked to the face she had sorely missed during her absence.

Before she could even form any words, however, she noted the haori covering her. A small grin upon her face as she began to consider how Omoni must be teasing the Captain in some way. And yet... this was simply a defense. Junko was well aware Omoni's pestering of Nakamoto Taichou would never cross such a disrespectful line. It was also very apparent immediately the color that stained the inside of the haori she wore. The upward turn of her lips coming down only slightly as she wished away the news she knew she would hear soon, her voice failed her as she attempted to speak.
"Omon--..."

 

[BSD]

As with everyone, thinking is an inevitability for Nibui, the actions of the Captain before him while minute and perhaps meaningless in Yū’s head, have their own rippling effects on those around him. With the scoff and grimace aimed towards Nibui, he finds himself taking note, forming thoughts on the Captain’s progression. Over the century that had passed, the bubbly and kind Captain Nakamoto had changed, becoming jaded and tired. In some aspects it is a shame to see, in others, it’s a necessity. As someone who has come to spend a considerable amount of time around the Fourth Division’s Captain, Nibui could almost jot down the changes on a timeline. Even still, with these facts in front of him, the expression that adorns Nibui’s face remains the same. Over the multiple centuries this man has lived, the lies he has told lay in the single digits, and this subtle smirk was not one to join that count.
”Oh! Captain Nakamoto, It's a pleasure to meet you! I'm Mizu Sayuri, the most recent Soul Reaper to join your Division!”
As the words of the newcomer to the Fourth Division ring out, the smirk drops from his face, to a more natural deadpan stare. The charcoal eyes of the ivory haired man lock onto Mizu, an unknown factor to Nibui, from there, he is silent, waiting for the Captain of this man to reply.
"I'm aware. I filled out the paperwork after all.”
The dismissive tone of enthusiastic and hardened Captain contrasting the Jubilant Mizu only further proves Nibui’s thoughts to himself, cementing them a little further in. Following this statement however, there is a momentary silence and again, Nibui goes to speak, only to find the same fate for his words as Captain Nakamoto speaks up once again. The same blunted tone and lack of enthusiasm accompany these words much like the prior.
“I have to go. Stay or leave, the choice is yours– you won’t be any help for the time being, Mizu Sayuri. We’ll reconnect afterwards if I’m allowed the time.”
With the sound of those words hitting Nibui’s ears, a brief sigh escapes him, not out of disappointment or sadness, no such thing. Instead he sees this as yet another trial that might impact the youngest of the Captains. To take on such an immensely heavy burden as the Captain of Fourth Division at such a young age, there is bound to be considerable recoil. Eventually the Captain turns to his gaze over his shoulder to face Nibui once more a final few words escaping his lips with a hint of sarcasm that mirrored his own and a smirk that eventually is reflected by Nibui’s own brief smirk once more.
“Enjoy my rock.”
And just like that, the Captain vanishes from their sight, the two strangers left alone but not for long. Step by step, splash by splash, Nibui makes his way out of the hot, nearly boiling water, towards Mizu. In these steps, his orbs focus on this younger Shinigami’s eyes briefly, exchanging wordless goodbye before passing beyond the young Shinigami’s peripheral view. In truth Nibui was perhaps a little bit upset now that the moment had passed. As he prepares himself to leave, starting with his Shihakusho and general clothing, he simply spoke to himself, quiet enough only for himself to hear.
”Maybe he’s just not havin’ a good day… Or it’s just gotten this bad.
As he finished speaking his hand would clasp Jubokko just above the guard along the sheath. A tightened grip holds onto the Zanpakuto, growing in intensity by the second as he lingers for a few. The relationship between these Shinigami and Zanpakuto spirit was never an amazing one, now more so than ever perhaps, even so, Nibui is left with no choice but to accept Jubokko for what it is. In his eyes, his path is clear, he has to adapt and negotiate with the bloodthirsty spirit in order to allow the two to function as a whole being and not as a pair. Again, he speaks his own thoughts to himself, as if trying to convince himself as he pulls away with the weapon in hand.
”Suppose all weapons demand respect. Might fall on it one day..”
With that, Nibui takes his leave from the Fourth Division springs and barracks all together. By the time the cacophonous Omoni Hageshi had arrived at the Fourth Division, Nibui had been long on his way, never present to witness the mess she might make verbally and physically. For the greater length of time of his trip, his stride was leisurely, each step landing softly along the stone flooring of the Seireitei streets. Shinigami both old and young traversed through either on daily tasks or simply on a walk as he did.

 

[BSD]

As time went on, each step of his brought him gradually closer to his destination, the barracks of Eighth Division, but they were indeed slow. While there are others like Nibui, who in this moment are casually moving throughout the Seireitei, far more Shinigami traverse these streets with haste. Some run, others sprint and others vanish from sight after a single step, covering a great distance with each pace. It is entirely understandable, afterall, a Shinigami’s job is not solely to deal with threats or to help other souls pass on, there are countless other jobs within Soul Society, much like any other society. In this hustle and bustle that surrounds Nibui, he finds an opportunity for himself. Before the interruption at the springs, his focus was set on his Reikaku (霊覚, “Spiritual Sense”), why stop there for the day?
It has been said before that every soul who uses Reiatsu, subconsciously uses their Reikaku and eyes to see, in the midst of battle though, their focus on Reikaku grows, and eventually it grows beyond visual sight, encompassing all senses and growing beyond them. Of course, there is no need to be in combat to focus on this sensory. Bit by bit, Nibui begins to funnel his focus into this relatively newly developed sense of his. While his eyes look forwards towards the people and surroundings ahead of him, he seeks to look beyond that still. While his ears listen to the soft pattering of his own steps, the presence of others, the birds, winds and life around him, he aims to listen to those who whisper to each other several blocks away. Expand beyond the boundaries set by his own body and instead be present everywhere simultaneously.
Mere minutes ago, there was a certain understanding that he lacked, and despite the lack of an effort to in that moment, Yū Nakamoto had imparted yet another lesson onto Nibui, one that was deeply necessary.
”Focus on everything, not just what is beyond you!”
This thought rang through his head loudly, he had been startled before by someone he failed to notice even while focusing on sensory, this needed to be corrected and in these moments, it has been. In this focused state, a certain excitement begins to overtake the Shinigami, his own successes had always fueled him with a childlike wonder, to him they were rare and something to be proud of, if only briefly. To those who may cross him, they find the previous blankslate now smiling to himself. In his wonder, the words of his upset mentor once again slip back into memory.
"You're certainly not going to understand this in one year, you're not going to understand in 10, and you might not even get in 100... but, nothing goes perfectly for us— even among the greatest. Being incomplete is what pushes us onward to do better... and that's what I need you to do. Even when you feel like you're not making progress, just don't give up again."
And brief his smiling was as these sobering words hit him. Such a success is only a stepping stone, if he wants to continue to improve, there is no room to get hung up on a single success, his sights need to be set on the horizon, no, beyond that. However, with the new success of his, he couldn’t help but remain a little joyous and with that, his pace would pick up rather quickly. A single step propelling him from sight of any around him as he vanishes without a trace towards the Eight Division barracks in Central Seireitei. Even in this journey, his training continues on.
Travelling from Northeast Seireitei to Central Seireitei

 

[BSD]

“Omon--”
The heartache resonating from Junko’s fading voice reminded Omoni of the reality that things were changing. Thus far it’d been something she simply moved forward doing what was necessary to make preparations for embracing her new role. Hageshi had been alone with only herself to manage whatever feelings were swarming inside of her. Since near to none of them borderlined on sorrow she’d almost forgotten that was going to be a part of the program. Now that it was staring her in the face, the great woman had no idea what to do.
“ Nobody but you knows yet.”
Omoni moved closer to Izumi while retrieving what appeared to be her Lieutenant’s badge from one of her pockets. There, she held it stared at her former division’s design for a moment longer. Now that she thought about it, she had never taken much time to study just what that token looked like and proceeded to do so with a fine tooth comb. Due to years hanging on her arm during the fiercest circumstances, it had quite a few nicks and cracks that Junko would eventually need to get repaired. Then her eyes settled on the flower. The detail in the symbol of the fourth division. A place that had offered her solace when the very worst knocked on her door. A place that had been in desperate need of her help at one point and now...would be fine without her.
“ This is your's now.”

Her hand extended and revealed it then waited there for Junko to take it. It may have appeared to be something that did not bother her in the least when that was the opposite of the truth. Although she would never admit it, stepping out of the fourth division was a heavy burden on her heart. Unlike the volatile no nonsense lifestyle of the eleventh, Omoni had become used to something more in the fourth division. There were an array of emotions available to be experienced doing the jobs that were meant for the medical team. Each one had come to her as being foreign and she had struggled throughout most of her time there to begin to understand them. However, all of her had been changed in ways that she still wasn’t aware of by those sentiments.
As per usual, Omoni was sure that Junko would have a few choice words for her in response to this upset of ranks. Maybe she’d feel like she wasn’t ready to take her spot in the light. To take hold of those responsibilities and make quick work of them. The two had shared many a day enjoying one another’s company but it had been hard to connect truly since at the drop of a hat Hageshi could be called away to fulfill her duty. Something Izumi would become intimately familiar with in the coming future. There was a rock in her soul and it was falling down toward it’s depths. If this was what it was like confronting Junko she would not try to imagine how the kid would react.
Honestly, she wished she could stick around longer and express more of the situation with the young nurse but as always Omoni had people to see and places to be.
“ I gotta go, but don’t tell the kid anything yet yea? I wanna tell ‘im myself. If he asks say I’m off on a mission or somethin’.”