It is a sunny and peaceful day within Inuzuri. Villagers of the Howling Dog District live their innocuous lives, going about their mundane routines. They remain ignorant at first to the silver object that materializes in the center of their town square. When the object fully manifests itself, some look on slightly puzzled, their boring pedestrian upbringing preventing them from recognizing the threat that this object truly is. A mirror, made of silver, casting a dark reflection of the Soul Society. An unease begins to creep into the hearts of the citizens, though their minds do not yet acknowledge it. Whatever doubt they have, is immediately fueled to greater heights, when they recognize the figure that steps out from this mirror to be a Shinigami.
The bustling streets of the Rukongai begins to slow, as the citizens curiously look on towards this turn of events. Shirogane, the Pride of the Kuchiki, or rather, his clone, a manifestation of his zanpakuto’s ability, steps from the silver portal he has created. The more socially aware of these Rukongai dwellers notice the Kenseikan adorning Shirogane’s hair. They immediately feel elated that a member of the Kuchiki Clan has come to bless them with his presence. The Kuchiki, ever since Captain Rukia donned the haori, had always allocated funds to the Howling Dog District. Captain Kuchiki and her husband Lieutenant Abarai had both been raised here after all, and neither were the type to forget about their upbringing. Together, they single handedly raised the Seventy Eighth District from poverty and crime, to a thriving center of commerce. These citizens are more than familiar with the scarf draped around Shirogane’s neck. This is not just any Kuchiki noble, but the Lord himself. What’s even better is that he comes bearing a gift! The town becomes completely silent, watching, in gleeful anticipation and awe. Their silence provides the Kuchiki Lord a platform to speak, expecting him to make some great announcement or proclamation.
The moment the Aku Hachi Hakkō is revealed, a sudden and violent gust of wind rushes through the crowd, blowing forcefully against Shirogane’s Shihakusho. It being such a calm evening, this wind would otherwise stand out as unnatural and out of place, were anyone actually to pay attention. A Shinigami not on the verge of death, would know this gust of wind to be the result of an instantaneous movement, the product of a shunpo. However, Shirogane’s task has been completed, the Pot delivered, and so he does not react, does not scour to find the source of the shunpo. Instead, he says only…
"Goodbye.......Shirogane."
Before Shirogane’s clone body, like his legacy, crumbles to dust.
The villagers look on with a mixture of confusion and concern. Was this the Kuchiki Lord’s intended display, or had he truly just perished before their very eyes? Had he meant to leave behind such a curious artifact, or is it truly a gift to these inhabitants? Unsure of how to proceed, some move to inspect the pot, looming over its open top, while others continue to murmur amongst themselves.
Regardless, they are so enamored in their confusion, that not a single soul notices the two additional strangers that have appeared amongst them.
“Later than you were expecting, no?”
A woman’s voice breaks the tension, belonging to none other than the Head Lieutenant, Honoka Oki. Though delicate, her voice carries over the crowd, hushing their nonsense and drabble.They look on, confused yet again, as silence permeates through the gathering once more. Onlookers shift their gaze from the beautiful amazonian woman, to the parting of the crowd. The growing mob of curious observers rush to make room, parting themselves straight in half, they split to open a clear path from the road to the pot. Any curious as to why, find their questions satisfied, by the massive figure that looms over even the tallest heads of the crowd. The sound of a wooden cane connecting against the rough stone-paved road carries with it more weight than any sound as of yet.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Captain Commander Shobatsu Murasaki! The Great Judicator himself, Commander of the Gotei Thirteen….outside of the Seireitei?! What was he doing here, so far out from the walls of his domain, so deep into the depths of the Rukongai? He had never shown himself to the citizens of any Rukongai district, not once since before the founding of the Gotei Thirteen. Nor had he shown himself a single time since the start of all this. Even as Shirogane’s plan was manifesting, even as his own barracks were bombarded by Lieutenant Nibui Ueki’s Bankai, the Commander had not made an appearance. So why was he here now?
Because this is where he has been the entire time.
Did the Gotei Thirteen truly believe their Commander had abandoned them? Did they come to some foolish notion that Shobatsu Murasaki is a man of inaction? Perhaps they thought that the Central Forty Six actually had any form of power over him?
What faith they lack.
From the moment Shirogane seized power over the Kuchiki, Shobatsu Murasaki knew this outcome would be inevitable. The Kuchiki clan was subjugated to Shirogane’s whim, held hostage by the very power meant to protect them. The Central Forty Six, in turn, were victims of their own corruption. Held in the stranglehold of the snake known as wealth, the Central Forty Six did not hesitate to bow to the whims of the Kuchiki Clan, and they expected the First Division to fall to their knees in turn. The First Division however, do not live bowing down.
Though Shobatsu approved of the transfer of the pot, it was under no delusion. He is, after all, the sworn protector and caretaker of this evil artifact, and his word is unbreakable. Rather than obey the whims of feeble men, Shobatsu instead set forth a series of actions that would ensure the Aku Hachi Hakkō’s safe return.
It started with the expedition of Tenzen Oda’s test for Captaincy. Those Shinigami who lack conviction, who hold no faith in their superior, had thought Higen’s orders to be cruel. The Captain had only just woken from his coma, after sacrificing his body to save the Seireitei. However, Captain Kagayaki is a man of strength, and the trust he holds in his Commander is ironclad. Higen knew that these orders were meant to raise his spirits, a kind offering of escape, and the closest thing Commander Murasaki would ever display to gratitude. However, Captain Kagayaki also knew that above all else, the Commander wanted this test done quickly, and for good reason: He knew Tenzen Oda would pass.
Had they not found it curious, that the High Priestesses of the Fifth Division, who make no public appearances, and who obey only the Kido Chief, were notified of Tenzen’s promotion, organized, and dispatched, before Captain Kagayaki could even return from the Senkaimon? Had the other Captains not wondered why it was that they would only come to find out about this new addition to their ranks through word of mouth? The Fifth and First Divisions were already en route with the Evil Fermentation Pot before Tenzen could even don his Haori, so who gave the order?
Commander Murasaki.
Tenzen is a man of inner balance, humble, and logical. The foil to Shirogane, a man of inner turmoil, proud, and desperate. It was these qualities of his soul that ensured he would defeat Shirogane at all costs. Though Captain Oda is a man of great power and ability, these were sure to pale in comparison to the power granted by the Pot to the Kuchiki Lord. This meant that the self-made Vizard would undoubtedly occupy the entirety of the Captain’s attention and focus. Shirogane too, with his pride crushed, his desperation peaked, would resort to drastic measures to ensure victory by any means. Or rather, by one, inevitable, mean.
He would transport the Gourd to the Rukongai. A place outside of the Seireitei, full with dissenters, power-thirsty souls, and above all, a dense population of victims to be hollowfied. Still, there was an endless amount districts for Shirogane to choose from, so how did the Commander know to come here? There are some who claim his blind eyes hold the ability to see into the future, but no such power was necessary for this instance. Shirogane is a proud man in mind, and a scared child at heart. In his death throes, of the hundreds of thousands of Districts that exist, only one would enter Shirogane’s mind. District Seventy Eight. The humble home and quiet pride of the Kuchiki, the one district that has any connection to his clan. Arriving at this conclusion, all Shobatsu had to do was wait.
If the Commander knew the pot would escape Captain Oda’s, and even the Gotei Thirteen’s reach, then why dispatch the Captain in the first place? Why not simply confront Shirogane and secure the pot himself? The only conclusion that can be drawn, is that the Commander
wanted the artifact to escape the Seireitei. The reason? To shatter the illusion of dominance the Central Forty Six projects, and show the Soul Society just how powerless the organization truly is.
To teach the corrupt a lesson.
Now, the Commander approaches the pot. His pace casual, his demeanor calm as ever. It is as though he is moving to pick up a newspaper thrown at his feet, rather than an object of infinite power and evil.
As he walks, his Lieutenant trails behind him, a pleasant and welcoming smile across her face. This does nothing to deter the villages from rapidly fleeing from the Pot and out of their incoming path, as Honoka unfurls her fan, covering all but her eyes
“Let’s see. One hundred and thirty three?”
“One hundred and thirty four.”
Silently, she takes in her surroundings once more, her senses stretching out for miles. Her perception creeps through the entire district, slithering into homes, crawling into the very souls of those present. Each soul in the rukongai, appears to her as a purple flame, the burning intensity of such flames proportionate to the souls level of spiritual power. One by one, she begins to block each soul from her mind's eye, mentally snuffing out the fire until only those who have observed or otherwise witnessed the pot remain. Again, she counts one hundred and thirty three souls. Only this time...she notices it. A small spark clinging to one of the flames. She focuses in, realizing that she had written the spark off as part of a single flame. Now she sees that it does not belong to the soul it clings to, but is instead its own separate entity, a being of such small spiritual energy that it is hardly perceptible. An infant child, being held in its Mother’s arms.
“One hundred and thirty four.”
“Acceptable.”
He moves past her, grabbing the Aku Hachi Hakkō by its rope binding with a single hand. He lifts it as though it were a meager tea cup, and tucks it underneath his arm. The purple miasma within the pot begins to swirl and bubble. Those familiar with its mechanisms may at this point find their stomach upturned in fear at the anticipation of its activation. However, the Commander simply tightens his grip, the pot audibly creaking under the constricting force. As though choked into submission, the purple miasma settles. Its shimmering surface so pristinely still that it reflects a perfect image of the orange sky above.
The Commander turns now to his Lieutenant, the setting sun at his back, silhouetting his massive figure, and casting the crowd of stunned onlookers in shadow.
“You will return to the barracks once you have finished here.”
With that, he is gone. Disappearing from sight without a trace, no shimmer, no gust of wind, no indication of shunpo or fluctuation of spiritual energy. The Aku Hachi Hakkō went along with him, leaving only Lieutenant Oki behind. The attention of the onlookers turning to her, they do not notice the tiny flakes of green sprouting at their heels.
Rukongai ———————————— traveling to ———————————— Southwest
