[BSD-RP] Soul Society: Rukongai

Awkward Heals

New member



As one match reached its end, another lost one of its competitors to forfeit. For a moment, Kazumi was thrown into silence. Soon she would be alone in the prepared tent, interviewing those that had survived the first round but had not advanced. Alone with the man who had promised to kill her on sight. Kazumi clenched her teeth. His words spoke only of such retaliation if she were to be found on the grounds of Second once more. Completing her assignment in such a place should not be enough to raise the man's distaste for her. Yet, all the same, she feared looking into those piercing eyes once more, especially in such close quarters. Swallowing her fear she opened her mouth to continue. Yet no words came to her before she was jostled by another.


Head swiveling to face the voice calling out to her, relief flooded the woman at the sight of a familiar face. The warm sensation of the forceful hug shoved away all the hesitation out of her very body. As she had pulled away, a happy smile came to her as she looked up at the large grin of Signy. Pointing to the microphone in her hand as an explanation, she gave no words in return. Yet it mattered little as soon enough Signy was gone as quickly as she had arrived. Despite the lack of her friend by her side any longer, she felt once more invigorated. Turning back to the screens, she continued with her commentary.

Thus far, it appeared as if the Captain of Squad Four had perhaps won this match. Though it was still an uncertainty until the status of his opponent was realized after the large-scale attack.

"Nakamoto appears to have Ueki in quite the bind. After such a huge attack, is he safely within his Bankai? Or has he succumbed to the heat?!"

The previous fervor returning to her voice, Kazumi watched intently, waiting to see what would become of the man who had locked himself away in what appeared to be an attempt to protect himself. Not having seen many of these contestants in any type of battle, it had been intensely fascinating watching each unique style reveal itself.

Practically holding her breath, Kazumi watched the bulb that housed Ueki closely. Concerned for the man's safety, she wondered how well he would be protected from the fierce attack, if at all. Though time seemed to stand still, little time had truly passed before Ueki's retaliation.


The exclamation came as the man emerged from the cocoon of his own making. Still coated with the bark of his bankai, the man emerged. It was difficult to tell how extensive his wounds were beyond the wood barrier. He answered the question himself quickly enough, suddenly hacking away at his own "armor". It took little time with his rapid motions to remove what he aimed for, revealing a body that showed no damage at all from the attack. Excited for his next move, Kazumi was shocked by his next actions.

“I’m done here.”

"Ueki has forfeit the match!"

The man continued to speak while at the same time using his abilities to retrieve the limp Oki woman from the rubble she had been buried in.

"Captain Yu Nakamoto is the winner of the match!"

Phone chiming with an alert, Kazumi removed it from her sash and gave the message a quick glance. Orders from Captain Yugure. Knowing the speed of those already on their way, Kazumi had little time to move from her secluded corner to her assigned tent. Handing the microphone to a fellow Division member standing nearby, the transition between announcers would be a smooth one. The man began talking the moment he received the device, continuing where Kazumi had left off. Preparing to leave, a sudden thought struck her. Turning to another who was standing close, Kazumi gave the man an urgent task before quickly making her way through the crowds to find her way to the tent.

Breathing out deeply, Kazumi situated herself in the seat designated to her. Anticipation intertwined with fear. Her inexperience with such a task made her wonder exactly how well of a job she would do, yet at the same time, there was a strange feeling of excitement. Her anxiety nearly floored her when she had received the microphone, yet she had found herself enjoying the activity all the same. She hoped the same elation filled her during her current objective.



Before the flap of the tent had opened, Kazumi was already on her feet, having felt the familiar reiatsu approaching. A large smile upon her face, she looked happily upon her Captain. All the better, it seemed she had been healed as well. Although she had wished for Yasu's victory, win or lose she was proud of her Captain and grateful she had survived, especially considering the opponents she had faced and the damage dealt.

Before Yasu could take a seat, another was felt right outside. Grin growing all the larger, Kazumi quickly poked her upper half outside, greeting the man who had returned from his errand. With a quick thanks, Kazumi was soon backing her way into the tent once again, her back to her Captain for a moment. Arms cradling something to her body, it was difficult to see what exactly Kazumi held until the moment she turned to face Yasu. A delighted look upon her face, she revealed the gift to the other woman, moving to place the bag near Yasu's seat before settling into her own.


As the cameras readied and focused upon Yasu, Kazumi considered the first time she had seen the woman. Their first mission together. The despair she had felt believing her to be dead and the concern upon realizing her new status as a Vizard. She had spent so much time watching as the woman continued pushing forward, a smile upon her face and filling those around her with life. Now such a person was her Captain, and Kenpachi title or not, Kazumi felt all the more proud to work under such a soul. The same one that waited patiently as Kazumi finished gathering her thoughts and began with her questions.

“As a Captain, do you feel as though you’ve gained anything from your participation?”

Yasu took a moment to answer, delving into introspection on her own self and power. As Kazumi continued, she found the process to be much easier than announcing had been. It took little time sitting with her Captain who contemplated each question and answered them all with complete sincerity and true self-reflection. Though Kazumi had disliked the idea of the Games entirely, it made her glad to watch as Yasu considered her next moves and focus. How much more would the woman grow during their time together? Kazumi was excited to find out. Though seemingly satisfied with the information she learned about her own abilities, it wasn't difficult for Kazumi to notice something else appeared to be on her mind. Something gnawing at the front of her mind. All Kazumi could do for now was silently root for her and trust Yasu would do not only what was best for herself, but their entire squad.

Finishing off her last question, the Captain continued on now speaking directly to the audience without Kazumi as a go-between.

May our denizens continue to support the Gotei Thirteen and all of our endeavors! I'll see you again in just a bit with a post-game interview with none other than Omoni Hageshi."

With this last statement, Yasu stood. Cameras panning away as they shut down the live broadcast for the moment, reverting instead to a sort of "highlight reel" of the match between the four contestants. Making a hasty exit, Kazumi stood when she had, bowing to her Captain before giving a small wave as she departed. Though she wished for more time to speak to her, Kazumi understood very well. Yasu was busy enough, with her own job to continue on to do despite the trial she had just endured. Such a conversation certainly wasn't one meant to broadcast, either, along with Kazumi's own duties. They could only part ways for now and do what was expected of them.

Breathing in through her nose deeply, Kazumi focused on these slightly meditative exercises while awaiting the other of the singular match that she would interview. For this alone, she had expected three visitors from their bracket. However, with nothing remaining to even attempt to heal of the fourth participant, the poor soul's demise did serve to lighten her workload.

Soon after Captain Yugure's departure was Hiroka Ikari's arrival.


Along with her own Captain, he would prove to be one of the easiest people for her to talk to during her assignment. Despite the almost angry seeming glare that he directed toward the camera, responding to her without truly looking at her, Kazumi did not waver. Her excitement over meeting him overrode any sense of discomfort she felt by the fierce eyes that stared down at the camera. To her, this man was an inspiration. Ranked a seat below her own self, the man had still thrown himself into battle with the Captains of the Gotei 13. Not only that, he had survived his match and received such little damage it seemed he wouldn't be checking in to the medical relief tent.

Although he appeared hostile and unwilling, his answers were lucid and thoughtful, though short and to the point as well. Each reply mulled over carefully before he spoke, his true feelings visible. Seemingly bothered by his own failure to win his match, his resolve was stronger. Reaching her final question, it gave her no pause to see what could be perceived as a threatening lean toward the camera.

"Despite the namesake of this tournament. This is not a game. If you ever wish to pursue an accolade of any kind. Know your limits and don’t let your name be wasted."

Nodding, Kazumi was to her feet simultaneously as the other stood, returning his bow as she thanked him for his time. Flopping back into her chair once he had left, Kazumi breathed out a large sigh. Was she prepared for the remaining Captains, the beasts she had not yet met or truly known? There was also the matter of the one she did know. Captain Mukuro. His final words to her reverberated in her head as they had done so many times before. Once again she attempted to calm herself. Though threatening, such held no merit in the current situation. She was simply completing her assignment, and as per his warning, had never even wandered close to the grounds of Second Division.

Even still, the large knot that had formed in her throat would not ease its grip upon her. Like the technique the man had used to lift her body from the ground by ghostly images of snakes wrapping around her neck, it felt as if she could no longer breathe. Certainly, they had seen each other in passing or some area or another at various points over the last hundred years. In all that time Kazumi had always given the man a wide berth. Now they would be face to face, mere feet away from each other as he was expected to answer questions coming from the likes of her? The deterioration of the situation seemed inevitable. Concerns growing, a fast-paced and strong presence was making its way toward her, accompanied by one of her fellow squad members.

Panic set in, her chair nearly fell to the ground as she stood. Foot caught on one of the legs, it swept forward with her movements. Landing on its back two legs, Kazumi frantically turned to reposition the small piece of furniture only to discover the pair had already entered. Without even the need to turn and look, relief filled the woman. This presence was not Kyomu's.


Clearing her throat, she turned with a smile to the latest arrival. This man she could recall no interaction with, either. Yet he appeared to have a kindness about him that she found soothing. Perhaps he simply radiated an inner light he held, or maybe he was simply the warm center of the world for her after having believed he was her former Captain. Either way, she recentered herself and proceeded. He appeared to rush, answers volleyed back to her nearly instantly. Though he didn't seem to put the time into considering the questions as the others had, she sensed no lies nor hidden feelings in his responses. In a hurried manner, he was just as sincere. Once more, annoyed eyes looked deeply into the camera lens.

“Of the final three contestants, who do you imagine will claim the title of Kenpachi?”

"Honestly it's a toss up. They're all amazing."

Kazumi could only nod along with his sentiment. Not having the connections this man did, her knowledge of most contestants of the Games was by reputation alone. The events that had occurred were unexpected in her eyes, not at all following what she had envisioned herself when the brackets had been announced. Once more she sat with three who she knew not personally, but by their actions. Considering this, she had to agree. The trio left for the title were no joke, and who would win was anyone's guess then.

Answers shorter than the man before him, it took little time for them to finish. She supposed she wouldn't want to stick around much longer, either, after such a battle. Preparing to stand the moment the last syllable was uttered of her last question, Kazumi wasted no time in rising at the same time as the other. Expecting his short and rapid response, she gave a deep bow as the man departed. Opting to remain standing this time, Kazumi did not take back to her seat when the tent was empty of her most recent visitor. With him gone and the cameras no longer on, the small screens within had been unmuted, alerting those within of the most recent events.

"No, I've only lost something. My time."

Eyes having wandered to the screen showing the members of the final bracket getting into place, the sudden sound of the man's voice put a chill up her spine. Had he arrived and begun answering the questions he knew would be asked? Had she been so distracted she hadn't noticed him even arrive? Or did he simply hide from her to prove how simple a task he would find in ending her? Despite the distortion of the words filtered through the small, cheap speakers, Kazumi took a moment to see the man's face on one of the screens. Words directed toward Yasu and not Kazumi. A breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding was released. There would potentially be upset from her Captain for not completing the interview with their former commander, Kazumi was grateful for the misstep the man had made. Maybe it hadn't been one at all and he had simply opted to speak with Yasu instead.

A loud outburst could be heard from another device, though it was as easy to hear as those that surrounded her. Glancing around the various screens, she was surprised to find that the uproar was caused by the scene surrounding the winners. Tenzen Oda had thrown in the towel before the bout even began. With a sudden retreat, the man was gone, though it appeared not from shame nor fear but rather an urge to be elsewhere. Buried beneath her shock, considerations that she was meant to interview him as well in such as case rose as well. Yet now he was gone, and with her being required to remain where she was, she found no option.

A long breath leaving her loudly, she looked around the various events and then pushed away, approaching the entrance of the tent. Lifting the flap she took a few steps outside, glancing about her at the many people milling about and speaking excitedly or in anger over how the matches had wound up. Watching silently, Kazumi enjoyed the brief reprise she was given. Despite unexpectedly enjoying herself and her role more than she had anticipated when it was given her, a quiet moment to herself was needed. Thinking over her performance thus far, she couldn't help but wonder if she had done well at all or failed completely. Using her Captain as her inspiration, Kazumi had attempted to follow along with the energy and behavior that Yasu exhibited. Only their next interaction would shine some light upon how the woman felt about Kazumi's behavior.

Remaining where she stood, eyes gazing out upon the masses swirling around her. The excitement and upset. She supposed she could aid with garnering interviews from those that passed by while she waited for the arrival of her final interviews for the round.



Kanojo Ai

New member

It was like any other normal day within the Rukongai. A day where Kano-san would use to go and take it easy, see the sights and-

"The first round of the Kenpachi Games are coming to an end! Were you rooting for anyone in particular?"

Oh? Interviewing people about the recent big event? That sounds interesting. Kano-san would stagger about as he would stay a bit away. The person that was asking was a Shinigami and they were speaking with someone else. Kano-san pondered though, what would he reply to that question actually? Rooting for someone, hmm…

'Going by what I have been taught in the Academy, the only one who fits thematically would be the one named Omoni. Having said that, while her fights have been great, the other three winners have also had great fights. Captain Yu was an especially good combatant and that is shocking if you take notice that he is captain of the 4th division. Captain Tenzen's fight was fun as well. As for the ones that lost, I am not sure to be honest. They did great, for sure. But I don't know. Since the start I know that I would actually root for either captain Omoni or captain Yu to be honest.'

Kano-san's thoughts were as such, as he nodded. He had found it fun and was about to move away, but the second question came.

"Are you disappointed/elated because of that?"

From what Kano-san had taken notice, no student had found themselves disappointed. On the contrary, it was seen as a sort of end goal for many of the students, their will to outright manage and reach that level. In truth, the students had gone on an extreme training program in order to become stronger and actually tried copying many of the various actions done within these games. It actually had breathed a sort of new air in the "stale" life of the Academy.

"Have the games caused you to realize anything after watching the strongest of the Gotei Thirteen?"

"That I am weak.

Without realizing, Kano-san spoke up. It was unknown whether his voice was actually heard, but he spoke the truth. He was weak, especially weak when he saw the skill level of those people. He knew that their levels were far different though and that was something that he wished to change. To become stronger. He needed to do so. It is here that Kano-san actually took a deep breath and nodded. He mentally thanked the interviewer who had even potentially assisted Kano-san's mind to reach a sort of balance. The recent happenings in the Academy had left a sour note and his inability in contacting his own Zanpakuto had also left him feeling iffy at best. Thankfully, this Shinigami's questions allowed Kano-san to awaken, to feel that his future would not be ruined.

As for the rest of the interview? He had long turned away and moved somewhere else so as to not be part of the peanut gallery around, especially making the road nigh impossible to walk on.



Staff member



”You got it all wrong though buddy. Why don’t we call it a wrap, get out of here, grab a couple rounds of a few drinks, and I’ll tell you all about whatever it is.”


Even in such a state, his arms severed, ribs broken, lungs punctured and filled with blood, Suiyo still smiles and offers the friendly alternative. He prefers a good drink and friendly chat, and extends this invitation to his callous opponent.

”Goyōgai” (五養蓋, Five Support Cover)

A pentagon shaped box forms on each arm of Suiyo to help stop the bleeding. The drunkard is impressed once again by the application of this technique. Not interested in his own well being, Suiyo loses focus for a second and imagines the possibility of sealing this kido into clothing, in order to protect those citizens of the Rukongai who have trouble controlling bountiful amounts of spiritual pressure. If a barrier like this could halt their flow of Reiatsu, there would be no reason for the Shinigami to abduct them into the Nest of Maggots.

With his bleeding halted, Suiyo interprets this Kido, “Geoguy” as a peace offering. Perhaps the callous and emotionally stunted Captain had actually taken the Drunk up on his offer. Yet the very next moment would reveal this is not the case. Narrowing his eyes, Tenzen reinforces the binding kido that Suiyo had previously attempted to dissipate.

Why? The Kido as it was had already succeeded in binding the Swordsman. Its strength was such that it had broken his ribs, crushing him to the degree that one such rib had punctured his lung and filled it with blood. What’s more, Suiyo had lost both of his arms, and was additionally so bound by the kido that he cannot even move his eyes. Further, he had offered to tell the interrogative Captain everything that he wanted to know, on friendly terms. Yet the Captain's response was to double down, to increase the strength of the Vasto-casted spell even further, to inflict even more harm.

Perhaps the Monk was scared, uncertain in his ability to stop the swordsman. Even having casted a full incantation Kido at the full power of his fully transformed hollow state, the Captain still feared that his opponent was skilled enough to escape. Though fear certainly seems unlikely, from what Suiyo has seen of the man.

Pride then, or rather, hurt feelings. As one of the Seireitei strongest it must be a rare occurrence for the Kido Chief to get humbled by an opponent, much less a stranger. Having the man who hurt his pride be completely vulnerable to his whim, Tenzen can’t help but twist the knife a little deeper. Typical Shinigami behavior.

”We can have a chat once we are out of here. But that does not mean my investigation will be stalled. A Captain was killed, and you are the only one capable of achieving such a thing outside of the current Captains and a few select Lieutenants. Pray that you are proven to be innocent.”

Suiyo tries to sigh, but instead regurgitates more blood onto his Shihakusho, which pours onto the golden kido and steams at the heat of this touch.


He mumbles incoherently, the only thing stopping his head from falling over is the very kido that binds him. He observes the Monstrous Monk meet a similar struggle, as Tenzen leaves heavily upon Suiyo’s black blade as though it were a crutch. In this moment, the Drunkard sees a chance to end his foe and escape. However, he was never here to fight in the first place. Instead, he had been partying it up all day at the festival. Enticed by the treasure he had secured, all the Drunk really wants is to get back to the merry making, not the life taking.

Through blurred eyes and blackened vision, he isn’t quite able to perceive the whirling wind that now encapsulates the duo, but he can sense the swirls of their spiritual energy as they are whisked away from this prison dimension.​


Suiyo can suddenly smell the delicacies of cooked street meat and fried sugar bread. More importantly, he detects traces of fermented rice, grapes, and wheat, the delicious savory smell of alcohol. Like a reviving smelling salt, this snaps Suiyo back into consciousness. Whereas before he was drifting off, seemingly from the blood loss and pain of his wounds, now he smiles once again returning to his nonchalant self. This startles the small group of medics who have surrounded him, unsure how to go about tending to his wounds while he is still bound by the boosted Bakudō spell.

”Hold on, move out of the way.”

His opponents voice rings out above the crowd, now surrounded by his own entourage of fully-clothed women. He observes Suiyo, who in turn stares at the captain with a smug smirk, his red iris peering through a drooping eyelid. In this moment of tension, the two opponent’s lock eyes, each assessing how they have impacted each other.

Throughout this fight, Suiyo has had his perception of Shinigami altered. At least, he was able to see displays of skill as masterful as his own zanjutsu, as well as new abilities he had never known existed. He had watched a cold-blooded killer stay his blade, and instead use his unparalleled speed to chase the passions of his heart. The Drunk had let this beautiful moment, as well as his penchant of giving his opponents the benefit of the doubt, cloud his vision. Just as he began to think that maybe Shinigami aren’t so bad, the Fifth Captain went and proved that they were.

”Do not heal his hands, yet…”


It just never stops with this guy. The Shinigami pride is so fragile. What is next? Castration? What had the Monk said to that Assassin? That he would turn him over for interrogation? So, the Shinigami invite the entire Soul Society to participate in their games. When the only non-shinigami to participate actually does well, he is dismembered and crushed. Arrested on allegations with no basis other than that he possesses strength. His belongings are confiscated, as he is impounded into the Soul Society for interrogation. After their nark Shinigami ask him their questions, he’s to be turned over to their assassin for torture. Even then, even if proven innocent, he is still too strong for their ego, and would likely be imprisoned. This is exactly the problem with Shinigami, this is the reason why-

“...if he needs a drink, get him a straw or something.”


Nevermind. Shinigami aren’t that bad after all actually. The Kido dissipates, freeing the Swordsman once and for all. He immediately lurches over, and ejects the blood from his lungs. not unlike a town drunk vomiting on the street. Standing upright with a smile and lazy expression on his face, he takes a sudden deep breath, expanding his recently emptied lungs with such force that he resets his broken ribs.

“Whew, that was a good one.”

He says stretching, the hole in his lungs and fractured bones being ignored, as the fourth division squad that surrounds him suddenly floods him with Kaidō (回道, Turn Way): Also known as healing Kidō (治療用鬼道, chiryōyō kidō; Viz "Healing Spiritual Arts"). Noticing the small army of medics that now tend to him, Suiyo is not used to this sort of treatment, and his content smile is replaced with a wicked one. Suddenly he groans out in pain for the first time, acting as though he is about to faint.

“Ohh Idun’know Doc, I think you’re gonna need to give me something stronger.”

His single red eye darts about the room, scanning for any medicine the medics might have stored about. Daydreaming of morphine while his stamina and Spiritual Power are fully restored, he doesn’t notice Captain Oda approaching him.

”You fought my grandfather before, he is the reason why I know who you are. My investigation shouldn’t take long after having a bit more time to think, I believe it is unlikely for you to have been the one to kill the former Seventh Division Captain simply because he was not diced to pieces. Though you could have held back in order to not get caught.”

“What are you even talking about man...”


”No, even if you held back he would have lost a limb or two regardless. Enjoy the festival, I’m sure someone from Fourth Division can accompany you and help you with the eating and drinking situation. When I return you can have your blade and hands back, also, consider becoming a Shinigami, there are many things in the Seireitei that cannot be seen or experienced anywhere else in the Soul Society.”

Suiyo had tuned out at “drinking situation”, which is all he had needed to hear. He shows no concern for his blade nor his hands, his grin cemented upon his flushed drunken face. The Captain does raise an interesting point about the Shinigami, Suiyo had seen more in this one day than he had in the past century. There were certainly a lot of interesting inventions, abilities, and people, but that doesn’t necessarily make it a match. Look at the hierarchy, the authority, the law-abiding. Could the monk really see the drunk making arrests? Hell, even following orders? Well, it doesn’t matter to Suiyo, who is just relieved to have the law off his back. He is happy to receive the reparation of a squad of servants beckoning to his will and whim, in the middle of the biggest party he has ever seen.

“You know, you’re not half bad. Well I guess you literally are. Monster aside though, figuratively speaking, you’re alright with me.”

The Drunk Bastard, Suiyo Kusotare, shares his final words to Tenzen Oda, who walks away without listening. He returns to his duties, crowded by his subordinates, before being interrupted for an interview and disappearing out of sight.

“How nice was that?”

Suiyo says with a smile to a Fourth Division grunt. Bashful, they do not respond, but sheepishly hold out a straw for Suiyo to take between his teeth. Standing upright, completely rejuvenated, spare his arms, Suiyo feels great. Turning to the walls of the tent, he moves the wooden straw between his lips, causing its end to flick about wildly.

“Awlright Squad lesh move out!”

Muffled by his puckered lips, Suiyo issues orders to the small band of medics who have been additionally ordered by not their Captain to follow this guy who is also not their Captain. When the side of the tent suddenly lashes open, great slashes carving through their canvas, the medics just look to each other confused. Suiyo however blushes, his pupil dilating, as he peers through the blinding light of the outside world, and into the party of the festival that surrounds them.

Through the light and outside of the tent, Suiyo only makes it one step before he is again interrupted by yet another shinigami. A blue-haired and timid woman who holds a microphone up to his mouth.


“As a stranger from the Rukongai, do you feel as though you’ve gained anything from your participation?”

The Rukon Bum stares at the girl for a moment, tapping the microphone with the end of his straw, and creating an unpleasant feedback.

“Who are you?”

“Did you find your competition surprising or difficult to go against?”

“Huh? Oh uh, yeah sure.”

He looks past the woman to the canopy of tents and vendors that flood the crowded street, a celebratory festival as far as the eye can see. Growing both distracted and impatient, the straw wiggles wildly in the air.

“Of the final three contestants, who do you imagine will claim the title of Kenpachi?”

“The winner probably, maybe. Hey uh, could you point me to the most expensive place in town?”

The medics behind Suiyo begin to giggle, covering their mouths. The white-haired swordsman however appears completely unaware of this, showing more concern in finding a place to drink than he had through his entire fight. The young reporter however, refuses to let the conversation be distracted. She did not sneak all the way around the back of this tent to ambush the fleeing bum, only to be cast aside on live television.

“Do you have any parting words for anyone watching the Games?”

“Yeah, these guys get a bad wrap. No brows is a killer, sure but he has a heart of gold, plus I’ve never seen anyone move so fast. Check this out.”

He tries to remove something from his pocket but recalls that he has no arms. Instead, he nudges his head and motions for one of the Fourth Division grunts to come retrieve it. Sheepishly, she approaches, blushing as she places her hand into his pocket. This blush turns from embarrassment to fear, as what she removes is the sharpened deadly edge of one of Kyomu’s Anken.

“This thing’s expertly made, blows most of the tools I’ve seen out of the water. You probably can’t pick it up on your camera but the materials are dense, and the edge refined, one cut from this thing and your Reiatsu’s hemorrhaged.”

The reporter has the Drunk’s full attention now. Getting the sense that this might go on, she tries to wrap up the interview, only to be roped back in.

“Also that other guy’s a monster, literally, did you know Shinigami could do that? I didn’t. Plus he’s got some amazing spells hidden in those wizard sleeves. Like did you see him infuse magic into his body? Imagine if we did something like that to the assassins shuriken, whew.”

Suiyo talks like a schoolboy at show and tell, his disinterest replaced with an obsessive passion, which he has been given the platform to talk about at length.

“Reach in there.”

He tells his 4th division subordinate, motioning towards his sash, or rather, the gourd on his waist.

“Come on, really get in there, open it up.”

Anxious, the shy girl removes the gourd, then struggles to pop the cork. When she finally manages to succeed in doing so, a blue glow emanates from its mouth piece. She holds it up for Suiyo to drink from, as he places his straw into the opening. Instead however, his suction is cut short, as he removes a glittering blue gemstone from the gourd like a piece of boba vacuumed to the end.

“An sheck shish ouwt.”

He says muffled, maintain the suction of the straw to hold the gemstone up to the camera.

“Shome shorta ineral, I shink it can asor…ashor- reiatsu. Shusher rare an it tastes schweet too.”


He drops the gemstone back into the gourd, smiling at the camera as he forgets what he was doing or where he is at. The young reporter just looks at him perplexed, before the awkward silence grows too long for television, and she moves on.​


Walking through the town like the Soul King himself, Suiyo’s entourage of unseated fourth division grunts have become well trained. Like a second, third, fourth, and fifth set of arms, Suiyo has trained his nurses to satisfy his every need. As they walk, one removes another joint from the Bum’s pocket, placing it to his lips as a second nurse pulls out a lighter and ignites it. All of this, without breaking a stride. The third nurses runs at full sprint to acquire a stick of teriyaki meat, and returns to Suiyo laboring for breath. The meat is gone before she even hands it to him. The fourth and final nurse is much slower, as she drags a bag of ceramic gourds and pots behind her, each filled to the cork with sake, wine, spirits, and any other sort of Alcohol they happen to pass. Her job is to remove one of these gourds from the bag, open it, place a straw within, and hold it out for Suiyo to drain with a single drink. At first, this occurred at ten second intervals, but now it has devolved into five.

“This is the life. Government perks huh?”

Suiyo says with full confidence to absolutely no one. Truly like a set of arms, he has come to overlook the existence of the nurses, having achieved the peak efficiency of an automated system.


Yet, this system comes to a crashing halt, as for the first time in the past five minutes, Suiyo stops his walk of hedonism. Three of the nurses crashes right into his back, one dropping a bowl of udon, the other a ceramic jug of cooking wine. If this were the outer Rukongai, they would have stained the earth, instead, the fumbled items pour into the cracks of the paved street, and down into the drainage system. Why, however, had they stopped? Though unapparent to them, who had been worked to such a frenzy that they could not perceive beyond their delegated tasks, the 4th division was not the only one with eyes on Suiyo.


He clocks the arrival of a powerful soul rapidly approaching. His single red eye slowly shifting to the rooftop she would find herself perched on. Though he does not turn his head to look, his stopped movement would be sign enough that he has noticed her. The trajectory she took, her mode of travel, and her method of running along the rooftops, all indicate that Suiyo is her target.

The building she would be standing on was a local watering hole, one of many of course. Though it would be no doubt familiar to her, it was a new place for Suiyo.

“Ladies, all of this drinking has made me thirsty.”

He says under his breath, a seriousness he had never shown in front of them before. Turning, he enters the establishment, and sits at the bar. One of the nurses removes the burnt nub of the joint on his lips, and replaces it with his wooden straw. With a nod, he dismisses her, waiting for the bartender to address him, and the woman to step through the door.

Looking up the screen, he sees the final contestants everyone was talking about. The blond haired kid apparently beat out the white-haired kid who was a stranger. What a shame though. The two white-haired swordsmen both lost to a couple of blondies with magic. Suiyo already knew that the Monk was moving on albeit against his will. What was really interesting though, was the third and final contender.



Suiyo chuckles. He’s not at all surprised to see her up there, or in this place. He knew on their final day together that she was destined to end up where she is now. A path that he could never walk himself.


”I forfeit!”

The bartender brings out a bottle of Sake, his eyes wide.

“On the house my guy! Ey you really showed those Shinigami huh!?”

Suiyo plunks his straw into the bottle and begins sucking it up like a child with a Juicebox. He doesn’t pay any attention to the bartender, but keeps his eye glued to the screen and his senses on the door.

”No offense to you Captain Hageshi, but I have my bet on Captain Nakamoto coming out of your fight as the victor. See ya.”


On live television, Captain Oda walks away from the battlefield. With the fight occurring in the Seireitei rather than another dimension, it seems the Captain really can just…walk home. Suiyo isn’t at all surprised by this turn of events, having seen the monk’s mental state first hand, it’s clear that his heart was not in continuing on. Much like Kyomu and himself, there were more pressing matters to attend to. What did this mean for his blade and arms though?

“Well, looks like he’s not coming back.”





In most instances, voids were what they were – voids. If there were two voids, one would assume that both voids were comparable to each other and operated the same. Here, Nibui, who was simply cold at one point in his Shinigami profession, had truly met with a void soul – someone’s whose spiritual pressure had absolutely no concrete feeling to it. The uniqueness he had was genuinely feeling like ... nothing. With the conceptualized idea of absolute zero being brought to fruition, this is what Nibui witnessed first hand.

Taking in the white haired soul’s features, Zhou was immediately greeted with a response akin to his own, yet bearing an essence with more depth. Unlike the Fēng currently questioning him, Nibui had some sort of substance to his entirety -- especially his spiritual pressure. The monotonous tone that passed through Zhou’s lips were easily picked up by Nibui, yet another being introduced to the overall dullness this individual provided when in the company of others. The lieutenant of the 11th division properly assessed Zhou. In a way, Zhou picking up Honoka could be seen as another chore – something needing to be done rather than something he genuinely wanted to do. One could have seen this as negative, but to the lower noble, it was the reality he dealt with for as long as he could genuinely remember. Being already at the tent where Honoka was stationed, the two of them soon made their way inside.

“You’re a strange one, but I suppose I can’t say much. Stick around and have a chat while the medics work.”

Zhou nodded, not taking offense to his comment.

Of course, Lieutenant Nibui.”

Almost as if he were following a concrete directive, the fourth seat officer followed the previous Kenpachi candidate’s directives as he took a seat next to the soul wielding such a vast amount of spiritual pressure. Despite what one might have expected from appearance alone, Nibui overall demeanor was one that was more welcoming than one would imagine. Even with his colored commentary, Ueki still spoke as if he was genuinely interested in Zhou. Despite his words, the silver eyed soul could tell that Nibui’s focus was elsewhere and understandably so. With Honoka being in the state she was in, paired with him being the reason for her current condition, his attention was more than reasonably given. Zhou didn’t display his emotions, but that fact had absolutely nothing to do with understanding others. One could compare it to one once having the ability to walk. One could watch another walk and have a genuine understanding of how it works, but when it came into practice, if one is not able to walk at that current time, there was no walking -- no matter how much one understood the concept. That very premise went in tandem with Zhou’s emotions. He wasn’t sure exactly how close his relationship to Honoka was, but he could infer that she meant a great deal to him. Soon enough, though, another ripple in Ueki’s hyperbolic waters was soon noticed by Zhou.

"Hey, sorry but I have to leave, maybe we can talk another time. Don't leave her side until she gets back up. Tell her I'll talk to her soon."

There was a switch in Nibui’s spiritual pressure, especially when the male looked at his phone. Zhou noticed Nibui's slight changes physically with his peripheral vision. Taking absolute note of them, the blue haired Shinigami could tell something was wrong. Despite the lack of emotion Nibui currently displayed, one would usually show something displaying a higher sense of concern -- especially from a message of the caliber he received. Was it anger? Was it annoyance? Was it sadness? Zhou couldn’t tell, but what he could easily infer was something was truly amiss.

“Understood, Lieutenant Nibui.”

Were the only words he could offer the Lieutenant who was currently dealing with enough to cause even the strongest of Shinigami, pain and anguish. In what seemed to be mere moments, the very soul he had met for the first time had changed merely glancing at his device -- what had happened?. Whatever the news was, Zhou could tell that something major was in the works. With given verbal instructions in tandem with his original intent, Zhou stayed in the presence of the infamous Queen of the Green – the one who was stripped of everything.

With Honoka being close, it was like the entire lore of the Seireitei existed right in front of his very eyes. A powerful soul that had seen more than double his life span was laying there injured. One could only fathom just how strong Nibui was with her being taken down to this degree. Not denying Honoka's strength by any means, Nibui's very power was a sight to behold. He wondered just how his last match went, especially with the amount of power that soul amassed. Zhou could tell that before Nibui left that very tent, the two of them were amongst the elite within the Soul Society. With his Zanpakutō sheathed about his back, he felt a presence pressing against his shoulder. Although he was the only one that could see let alone feel her, he blinked twice as this figure towered over him.

“My my, look at her? Even in this state, she radiates more power than you do. Hmmm. She definitely seems like someone that is fitting for greatness. Speaking of which…”

Shujin Kagi began, but Zhou’s eyes were continually fixated on Honoka.

“You’re really trying to change, huh? You want what was taken from you back as well. Do you understand the price of what you’re genuinely asking for? I’m sure you don’t really remem-”

Zhou finally parted his lips.

“I do remember. I was never meant to forget.”

Zhou said as the female sighed.

“That is exactly what I am worried about. Do you think this… matters? Yes, you’re not like everyone else, but that’s what makes you unique, special. You’re safe this way. If you ever were to push yourself too much, there’s no telling what could happen. Zhou, you were on the verge of d-”

Zhou stopped her then and there.

“And if I would’ve died, so would’ve you, correct? Is that your concern? Your attachment to existence itself via me?”

Zhou said as he finally turned his head towards his Zanpakutō’s spirit.

“My, you’re still as calculating as the last time we spoke. Although your words are correct, I do not wish to depart from this life. What’s wrong with me genuinely wanting to live? You say this as if there is something wrong for me genuinely not wanting to die. Even if I do perish though, don’t you understand … Everything involving your own emotion has brought you nothing but p-”

She began, her glowing eyes fixated solely on the male’s lips – the wound that still hadn’t healed. Judging by where she was looking, Zhou could tell where her gaze was, only for him to turn his head away, facing Honoka yet again.

“I’ll be fine, and no matter what happens, I won’t risk your own life for my own. Thank you, for today, Shujin Kagi.”

Zhou said, his words being just as bland as they were before. There was something else though – something that Shujin Kagi could genuinely feel shaking her very core. Something wasn’t right, especially in comparison to before. Something she was able to guard for so long, something she was monitoring and prepared to rectify herself, was forcefully being warped, altering to something it shouldn’t have. Seemingly for the first time she could remember, she could literally feel his spiritual pressure molding into something different, evolving. Truly seeing that there was nothing that she could do, her very existence began to fade away from view. Zhou’s eyes were still on his comrade at this point as the corner of his lips began to flinch, slowly growing into that of a smirk. With his mind blank, his orders to remain there were followed through, him simply waiting on the female’s recovery as the leisurely power within him began to mold and shape rather than stay in its present void form.

"Don't sleep too long, Oki. Lieutenant Ueki and a number of others still have a lot expected of you."





Her participation in the Kenpachi games was curt. She was determined to... to what? Showcase her prowess? Put on an impressive show? When truly all she did was display how far she had fallen. This act from her appeared to be a form of punishment, on top of everything that burdened her heart, it was as if she sought to physically feel how she felt internally. And thanks to Captain Nakamoto and Lieutenant Ueki, burns, fractures, breaks, scratches, bruises, and gashes littered her body from the wanton destruction of their battle. Rendered unconscious from the very start, her body was left to weather the elements, the explosions, even the clashing of reiatsu, which only caused the weight on her body to increase as her scarf absorbed this and crushed her further, while the two earnestly fought for the chance at passing to the next round. All she did... was take up space.


Her pristine clothing is left in tatters, her scarf clutched tightly in her hand, despite her unconscious state. Why? What did she hold on to so desperately, when everything slipped so easily through her slender fingertips, this piece of fabric is the only thing she holds on to for dear life, as if losing this will cost her the last remnants of her sanity. What was once meant to subjugate the previous' Captain Commanders vast spiritual energy, became the very protective wrapping for her then newborn son, fitted and altered to accompany him every day of his young life, until it was divided. Half remains with the boy she can no longer contact or even lay eyes on, while she clings on to the other half with her inhuman strength. In her subconscious, it was as if releasing this old piece of fabric was releasing everything she sacrificed everything for. To her, this purple scarf is the very last thing she feels connects her to Masahiro, and not even death will separate her from this wrap.

In her state of unconsciousness, she doesn't, or rather, she can't, notice the fight come to an end. She can faintly feel the warmth of another as her body is pulled out from beneath mountains of rubble, only to be transported back to the main stage they initially departed from. The members of the Fourth Division are fast and efficient, beginning their treatment of her injuries as they transport her back to the medical tent. While her scarf drags along the floor, a member, ignorant to the properties of this scarf attempts lifting it, to keep it from dragging on the ground, as it is obvious it is precious to the woman, only to come to the realization he cannot lift it, nor make it budge a single centimeter. His expression is that of astonishment, utterly shocked that this woman moved so gracefully despite the heaviness of this. Then he opts to pry it from her hand, to no avail. They would have to continue treating her as is, for it is obvious she will not release the scarf under any circumstances.

“Greetings, Lieutenant Nibui. I was wondering for her well-being first and foremost, but I am here to escort her back to the third division barracks when she is able to move on her own.”

“You’re a strange one, but I suppose I can’t say much. Stick around and have a chat while the medics work.”

With all hands on deck treating different sections and injuries, the medics of Fourth Division make quick work of the damages on the Oki's body. With nigh a scratch on her body, it is returned to it's pristine condition, as if nothing ever happened. Now it was only a matter of time before she awoke. Luckily, with all the rowdiness surrounding her, it does not take long for her to come to. Words exchanged in her presence prior to this point are lost to her, the most recent ones only sounding like indistinct chatter to the woman as she begins to regain her senses. With the faint buzzing of a communication device acting as an alarm, she remains still.

"Hey, sorry but I have to leave, maybe we can talk another time. Don't leave her side until she gets back up. Tell her I'll talk to her soon."

It isn't until Nibui leaves her tent that a disappointed sigh leaves her lips as she stares up at the fabric ceiling of the tent. Disappointment in her fight? Or in her survival? At this point, it was impossible to tell. Never the less, Honoka sits up on her accommodations. Far from what the noble is used to, but she cannot complain. She looks up, catching sight of the man charged with keeping her company, but before she has the chance to speak to him, the tent's door is pushed aside by a sheepish interviewer. Kazumi Fujioka steps through, the anxiousness of her task of interviewing the losers clearly burdens her. Honoka's eye sharpen, recalling her grandmother's mention of the blue haired shinigami which sought to interview her during the clan's worst tragedy. The mood seems to sink further as the Ninth Division member approaches the Oki, but she remains still, allowing the girl to begin her interview.

“As a-an... unseated member, do you feel as though you’ve gained anything from your participation?”

How could she have possibly gained anything from such a short encounter?

“Did you find your competition surprising or difficult to go against?”
"I didn't exactly put up much of a fight."

She says bluntly. Her coldness is odd, unusual for the matronly woman, still, she is not rude to the Fujioka girl.

“Of the final three contestants, who do you imagine will claim the title of Kenpachi?”
"Hageshi... possibly the O-"

It is here that she notices the replay blaring on a screen in the room, of the Golden Buddha's sudden withdrawal from the second round. This only serves to worsen her mood, as she had placed a bet on both him and the now armless man he eliminated.

"Well, the options have dwindled."

“Do you have any parting words for anyone watching the Games?”

The woman turns away from her interviewer, and pulls her scarf to her lap, beginning to clear away the dust from when it dragged along the floor as she was being transported to be treated. A vein pops on her delicate face as she grows increasingly aggravated by the barrage of questions, still, she remains steady and continues answering.

"...Thank you for your support."

Finally, the interviewer leaves the tent, leaving her once again in the company of Zhou Feng, who'd patiently awaited the interview to conclude. She looks up at him, the emptiness within him evident on the man's face as not a single expression displays on his face. There is little information read off his dossier she could recollect at the moment, aside from his transfer to Third Division from Second, the timing of which arose suspicions in the untrusting woman. Is he here to keep an eye on her for Captain Mukuro, to report on her? Or is he here of his own volition and seeks the change and inevitable growth those recently transferring into Third will face? Regardless of his reasoning of being there, she will treat him no differently than any other squad member.

"You didn't have to wait for me, but nevertheless, thank you Fēng."

She exits the tent, briefly squinting as her verdant eyes adjust to the brightness of the outside. Standing still for a moment, expecting Zhou, who is technically her superior, to follow her, Honoka glances around. He was already there, classes were canceled in light of the games, he might as well keep his elder company for the duration of her adventure. The cheering and festivities still in full swing as the clash between Nakamoto and Hageshi is set to begin any second now.

"I need a drink."

Wandering through the crowd who over her sympathies, who give her side looks, or flat out glare at her, per the happenings of the Oki, the woman simply ignores the lot, a single mission in mind. She glides through the horde of people, never taking a second to look back to see if Zhou has been following her. If he was truly trained in the ways of Omnitsukido then he'd have no trouble in keeping up with the elder woman. Finally, she slips into a packed establishment, opting to sit at an empty table.

“Well, looks like he’s not coming back.”

She waves at the bartender, holding up two fingers, signaling her desire for two cups, and with a wave of her hand, she gestures for them to keep them coming. With a young waitress delivering her request, in awe of the noble, she stumbles, nearly spilling the bottle of sake before it ever makes it to the patron. Luckily, experienced in her craft, the young lady saves the bottle, places the two ceramic cups on the table, then pours the sake into the cups and leaves the half empty bottle for Honoka and her companion.

"If I wasn't already almost executed, I'd lend a hand."

She raises her cup as a toast, before downing it's entirety in a single gulp.