The Broken Souls of the Seireitei

A/N: Good evening. More to come soon. Thanks for all the support and whatnot, you all are infinitely precious. Some offensive language will appear, and it's not meant to be hurtful. And if it's the first time you have heard/seen that word, then you have lived a VERY sheltered life and have no beewax on this site. N'joi.





“Get your lil’ asses in the bed!” Tessai roared, grabbing at Ururu and Jinta. Somehow they had broken the ‘naptime kido’ that Yoruichi affectionately called it and were now running around the shop, but to be fair, it was more Ururu running from Jinta’s fists. She had dipped his hand into warm water as a joke, and the results were…soaked. The boy was enraged, more because Ururu had told him that ‘The Goddess’ was to come to the shop to pick up some things for Ichigo. The child lost all his cool at his soiled pants and wanted to give Ururu the beating of her life.

“You are a bad Daddy,” Yoruichi chastised, stretching out on a counter in her cat form. She much rather preferred her animal form, as clothing could be quite restrictive and bunch. And even though she could walk around naked, it would have been unruly to do so in front of children, and also the last time Renji saw her naked he didn’t blink for five minutes. She almost summoned Byakuya to make Abarai’s brain work again.

“Gotcha!” Tessai screamed, grabbing both children by their scruffs. He shook them briefly to stop them from swinging on each other as Urahara opened his bedroom door, fanning himself with a frown.

“Yare, yare. It sounded like hollows were out here!”

Yoruichi laughed. “As if there is a difference between the two.” Urahara walked over to the counter and shoved her off, making her ‘meow’ angrily and cast fierce yellow eyes at him.

“Looks like we came at a wonderful time.” The sarcasm in Byakuya’s voice was unmistakable, and all of them looked at the group of shinigami coming through the door.

“Kurosaki-san! Help!” Jinta yelped as Tessai flipped him over and caught him in his collar. Ichigo looked at him and shrugged. He didn’t mind if the kid got snatched periodically, he spit on him during his hollow training and he also didn’t like the way he looked at Yuzu. The kid’s balls had barely dropped and he was trying to scheme on his precious sister! Yeah, he deserved an ass whoopin. Tessai dragged the children away to their room to tuck them in, this time using chains.

“Children are so much fun. So what brings this motley crew to my humble abode?” Urahara said, fanning himself again. He set about brewing a pot of tea and also filled Yoruichi’s favorite bowl with milk and set it on the floor near her.

“We need a favor.” Byakuya and Matsumoto both looked curiously at the gruff response from Zaraki. Even Urahara looked surprise.

“A favor? For Zaraki-san? We don’t even know each other. Why would I do a favor for you?” Urahara had an amused look on his face, and Zaraki narrowed his unpatched eye.

“It’s not a favor for him, or anyone in this room. The person needing the favor isn’t here,” Matsumoto explained, stepping forward. Urahara eyed her suspiciously and knelt to stroke Yoruichi’s back, who was engrossed in lapping the sweet milk.

Urahara smiled. “Is the person a coward?”

“No!” Ichigo snarled, practically shoving Matsumoto out of the way. He walked right up to Urahara, who stood to meet him face to face.

“You wanna fight, Vizard?” Urahara asked coolly. Ichigo opened his mouth to respond, but a white, blinding pain hit him.

‘LET ME!!!!’

Instead of answering, Ichigo held the side of his head and closed his eyes, retreating to a small futon. He held his head down and Byakuya sat beside him, stroking his back to calm him. He didn’t know what happened, but he was sure that he just had to repress his Hollow.

“I need to speak to you alone, Kisuke. Can everyone aside from myself, Kisuke, and Ichigo leave?” Byakuya asked sharply, tired of these kiddie games. Matsumoto and Zaraki looked at each other, and he picked up Yoruichi’s milk bowl to lure her outside.

“Here kitty, kitty,” Zaraki cooed, the jingling of his bells making Yoruichi want to jump and nest in his hair. Urahara waited until they left before turning and smiling at Byakuya and Ichigo.

“Well, isn’t this just fancy. The last time you and I spoke alone, it was about Kurosaki-kun, and now there he sits! Big and bold as shit,” Urahara said, a hand on his hip.

Byakuya glared at him. “Are you finished?” He snapped moodily. Urahara smiled and poured the tea, assembling the cups on a pretty wood carved tray and gracefully walked to the small table. “So what can I help you gentlemen with?”

Ichigo hadn’t noticed he was cracking his knuckles over and over again. Byakuya placed a hand over his and knelt forward, meeting Urahara’s eyes. “Kurotsuchi taicho raped Nemu a few hours ago, and we recently told Ishida-san. Understandably, he wants revenge.”

Urahara whistled low as he sipped his tea. “Yare, yare…so you all are wanting me to train him to defeat the Insane Clown Posse?”

Ichigo looked up with a smirk. “Yes!”

“No.” Byakuya’s voice was flat, and Ichigo glared at him.

“Why not?!!” Ichigo’s voice was adamant.

“We covered this, Ichigo.”

“SO?!”

“So? So shut your mouth and let adults talk.”

“Don’t talk to me like that! I’m a fucking adult!”

“You are like negative 300 years old compared to me.”

“We ain’t talkin about your old ass! We’re talking about working a knot in Kurotsuchi’s ass!”

“This is too cute. Stay here, let me get my camera,” Urahara said, placing his cup down on the table, starting to stand.

“No, Kisuke-kun, I need you to-”

“Train Uryuu!” Ichigo slipped in. Byakuya reddened with anger.

“Damn it Ichigo! KisukeweneedyoutocometoSeireiteitodefeatKurotsuchiandtakebackthe12thdivision!” Byakuya spat the words out and stuck his tongue out at Ichigo.

Urahara flopped down, his mouth hanging open. His face curled into a smile, and he laughed, holding his stomach. Ichigo glared daggers at him and folded his arms, sulking. “I’m glad you think this shit is funny.”

Urahara stopped laughing and looked at Ichigo. “I don’t think this is funny. I actually am disgusted by what has happened to that poor sweet girl, and I can totally understand what Uryuu must be feeling. But I left the Seireitei for a reason. Besides, no one has ever been my second but Hiyori. Like she’d ever come back,” He scoffed, scowling.

“So is that a yes or no answer?” Byakuya asked, his voice testy.

“Kuchiki-san! Why are you so impatient? Damn, can’t a nigga think?” Urahara snapped, making Ichigo smirk again.

Byakuya turned his head. “That isn’t a nice word.”

“What isn’t?” Urahara ask sweetly. Byakuya made an ugly face. “You know what word.”

“The ‘N’ word,” Ichigo added. Urahara shrugged. “I call Yoruichi that all the time.”

“It doesn’t make it right. I heard Ichimaru-san call Tousen-san that once, and he got punched in the face.” Byakuya insisted, shaking his head.

Urahara laughed. “Gin gave him the People’s Elbow, huh. Funny. But I’ll say what I want, I’m older than both of you. And as far as Tousen goes, if I ever see that blind bat again, I’ll be happy to give him a kick in his black ass. Besides, it’s a term of ‘endearment’, not necessarily a color.” He stood and walked over to a window, wiping dust off with a finger. “Jinta needs to dust more,” He observed, wiping the grime on his shorts.

“Are you gonna help or not?” Ichigo flared, annoyed beyond reason.

“I can compensate you for your troubles,” Byakuya offered, sitting up regally. Urahara scoffed at him again.

“Compensation? What form would that take? Your bare pale ass gleaming in the moonlight? Yours, Ichigo? Or both?” He asked lecherously, grinning at them.

Byakuya sneered. “As if. You’re just as crude and shrewd as ever. No wonder you and Aizen-” A warm hand was placed over his mouth as Urahara glared piercingly into his eyes.

“Not another word about Sousuke. Ever.”

Byakuya tore Urahara’s hand from his mouth and stood. “Only that you two were the best of chums.”

“As good as you and Shiba-san were?” Urahara had an eyebrow raised and Byakuya just stared at him blankly.

“Are you two finished? No one cares about you being friends with Aizen or you being friends with Kuukaku.” Ichigo’s words broke the heated conversation, and they gave one last glare at each other before sitting back down.

“Ichigo, this is the deal. You bring me a Hiyori, and I’ll kill Kurotsuchi. I’ll even make it extra painful. Bring me Lisa-chan too. So I can play with her boobies,” He explained when Ichigo grimaced.

“So it’s a conditional yes then?”

Urahara nodded.

“Ok, that’s good enough for me. Thank you, Urahara-san,” Ichigo said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Give me 2 days to train, and that ought to be ample time to convince both Yamamoto and Hiyori to agree. In fact, it retrospect you might want to get all the Vizards aligned. We want as many noodles in the pot as possible.”

Ichigo nodded, scratching the back of his head. He didn’t want to talk to Hiyori. She respected him, more his Hollow. She seemed enraptured by Shirosaki, and seemed to want to see him as often as possible. No, Shinji would be the go-to guy. If he could convince Shinji to come back, the goof troop will follow. Hmm, how to do this? Thoughts ran circles in Ichigo’s mind until he felt Byakuya’s warm hand on his knee.

“Let’s go, Ichi-chan.” The words were light and airy, almost as if they were headed to a party or something not so serious. He looked into the blue-gray eyes and nodded, suddenly sleepy. He waved at Urahara, who smirked mischievously.

“So is he gonna do it? Oi, what’s wrong with Ichigo?” Zaraki yelled as Yoruichi jumped from his lap. Byakuya dragged Ichigo outside, by this point practically carrying him.

“Urahara-san and I needed to talk privately, and Ichigo didn’t need to hear.”

“So you tranced him out. That’s fucked up, Kuchiki.” Zaraki chastised, leaning down to pat Yourichi good-bye. They had become good friends in the few minutes that the grown ups were talking in the shouten, both he and Matsumoto took turns scratching behind her ears and on her belly.

Byakuya shrugged and shifted Ichigo’s weight. “He needs the sleep anyway. I suppose I’ll take him back to Chad’s apartment. You two play nicely tonight,” He said, a hint of kidding in his voice. He turned and carried Ichigo down the street bridal style, disappearing into the night.

“He never did answer as to whether or not Urahara is gonna help,” Zaraki muttered angrily.

“I’d think he was. Byakuya looked pretty firm going in there,” Matsumoto said, adjusting her haori. She looked at Zaraki, who’s face softened.

“So what shall we do with ourselves, Darling Matsumoto?”

Rangiku thought. “Wanna go to that party?” Zaraki shook his head.

“Too much yang yang and noise. I need some downtime right about now. Unohana is keeping Yachiru for me, so I am free tonight.” He smiled at her, making her melt.

“If you don’t think it too forward, you can come back to my place for a nightcap. Aizen had a nice sake stash that I found under some floorboards when I was cleaning. We can chill for a few if you’d like,” Matsumoto suggested, shrugging her shoulders. Zaraki’s grin widened.

“That would be lovely. This way, madam,” He said, opening the portal back to Soul Society. He held out his hand for her to go in first and then followed, looking behind him briefly down the alley where Byakuya and Ichigo went.
****************


“Oh, I fear I’ve made a bad decision, Yoruichi.” Urahara lamented as she strode back into the room stealthily, hopping into his lap.

“What?”

“I told Ichigo that I would defeat Kurotsuchi and take over the 12th again if he can get the Vizards to come with me.”

Yoruichi couldn’t help herself. She scratched Urahara on the arm before jumping on the back of the chair, yellow eyes glowering. “I can’t believe you! What was all that ‘I’ll never go back’ and ‘Yamamoto can suck out my ass’ dribble? And you are going back for what? To defend a girl you barely know?”

Urahara glared at her. “Are you jealous?”

Yoruichi laughed. “Um, survey says HELL NO! Besides, I don’t think Aizen will be too pleased that you are a defector. Again.”

Urahara frowned. “Yeah, that’s a conversation I’ll dread. But he has Gin and Tousen to make a reverse Oreo. His bed is plenty warm, I assure you,” He said in a snappish tone.

“Well! Someone’s hakama is in a bunch. I heard you take a jab at Byakuya over Kaien. That isn’t nice. They were just friends.”

“Yeah, sure,” Urahara said sarcastically.

“I never caught them. But I have seen your penis in various holes of our dear Aizen. So in retrospect-”

“Yeah, yeah, shut your face.”

Yoruichi hopped over closer and sat, curling her tail around her. “Do you really want to go back to the Seireitei?” Her voice was soothing and quiet, and Urahara closed his eyes for a moment. He stood and walked into his bedroom for a moment, and then emerged holding something in his hand.

“I told Ichigo I needed two days to train. Sousuke-chan is coming to visit me tomorrow. It‘s not gonna be pretty because he will be pissed and be defensive, and you know me, Yo. I‘ll be flippant, he will misunderstand, and…” He sighed and took the hourglass from his hand and turned it over, the white sand inside pooling at the bottom. He hadn’t realized until Yoruichi jumped back into his lap and started licking his face that he had been crying.

“I hate when he is mad at me,” Urahara said in a small voice.

“But he isn’t mad at you now, Kisuke-kun!” Yoruichi said, trying to comfort him. He shook his head. “He’s mad, he just doesn’t know it yet.” He turned away and there they quietly sat, watching the hourglass filled with the white sands of Hueco Mundo falling, nothing else to do but to wait for Sousuke’s arrival.
*********************

“So is it weird living in Aizen’s old house?” Zaraki asked, sitting gingerly on a futon, looking around. Matsumoto had been there for less than a day, and she had already set about making the home more comfortable. Unfortunately Aizen’s strong reiatsu resonated in the quarters, mixed with Gin and something else, small and annoyingly flowery, probably that damned idiot Momo.

Matsumoto shrugged. “I’ve lived in worse places. He might have hated the Seireitei, but at least he took care of his home. And hey, look what Yumi found for me.” She walked over beside him and pulled at the corner of a tatami mat, pulling a bottle from beneath the floorboards and showing it to him. “It’s some pretty good sake. We both had a bit earlier, before I came to see you at your division. I suppose in all the excitement of telling all of us ‘to go fuck ourselves’ that he forgot his stash.”

Zaraki took a cup of the liquid and nodded, impressed. “It’s good stuff. Got anymore?” He asked, flashing his brilliant smile. She nodded and reached to pour him another cup, and he grabbed her wrist, startling her.

“What?” She nearly shrieked, nearly dropping the bottle. Zaraki examined her palm, frowning.

“Did you do that on purpose?” When she looked confused, he turned her palm to her and showed her the marks inside. She thought for a moment and blushed.

“It was an accident. Yumi and I were talking and the information he told me was upsetting, and I dug my nails into my skin so hard that I accidentally cut myself. It was a few days ago; its okay.”

“No, it’s not. It’s still red and probably sore. Have you applied any healing reiatsu? Or ointment? Spit?”

She smiled again, but averted her eyes. “Only once.” She went to pull her hand away, but Zaraki held her firmly.

“Can I try?” She looked up at him, shocked. The 11th wasn’t known for their experience with healing abilities. She nodded slowly and he grunted, running his fingers over the wound slowly. He closed his eyes and focused his energy, mending the small but painful cuts. He gently caressed her hand and then released it and set it on her lap, giving her a mischievous smile.

Matsumoto flexed her hand, staring at it. “Thank you,” She said in a small whisper, hating herself for being so needy. All the man did was heal her hand, but she could have fell in love with him at that moment. So few were the moments of genuine kindness in her life, she felt the overpowering need to grasp on and hold it, but she shook that feeling away and looked up at Zaraki.

“No need to thank me. I noticed at Tsumiyo’s when you opened the door to take Rukia outside. You used your left hand, and when you were turning, I saw the red marks in your palm. I’m glad that they were…accidental.” It was his turn to avert his unpatched eye on the last word of the sentence. Heavy, awkward silence reigned for a few minutes before she cleared her throat and gave a fake laugh.

“More sake?” She ask in an upbeat tone. Zaraki looked at her benignly and stood.

“This may be pretentious of me, but I’ve probably worn out my welcome, so I’ll leave now.” He turned and walked a few paces toward the door.

“No. Kenpachi-san, don’t leave. I’d like you to stay awhile, if you want.” He paused and turned halfway, staring at Matsumoto. Gods, she was beautiful. She was standing also, her head lowered, holding one of her arms. He wanted to run to her, pick her up and swirl her around and kiss her lovingly. He also wanted to leave and act like he didn’t care, since that was the safe route. Instead of being a chicken, he turned around and stared at her, eying her as she walked over to him.

“Please stay the night with me. After the day we’ve had, I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want you to be alone either. Please stay,” She murmured again, moving over to him and resting her forehead on his chest. His breathing stilled as she lightly wrapped her arms around torso, snuggling into his warmth. He felt his arms encircle her and just hold her, feeling the seductive, soft shape of her body against his.

“Today has been my lucky day. Three times I’ve had two beautiful women in my arms. I’ve got to tell you, I don’t know how much more of this brutality and harsh treatment I can take,” He joked, making Matsumoto chuckle into his chest. She looked up into his eyes, blue crystals meeting dark amber, and lips very nearly met before she pulled away, smoothing her haori.

“There is only one bed, and you can sleep in it. I can make do on the futon,” She offered, walking around the couch to make it sleep ready. Zaraki shook his head.

“There is no way I’m letting you sleep on some rinky dink futon. You’re the broad, you sleep in the bed. I’ll sleep on the futon.”

“But you’re my guest!”

“Not really. I can be a nuisance. See?” He took off his bloodstained coat and tossed it on the table, knocking over the sake cups.

“Kenpachi!” Matsumoto said in a chastising voice, running over to sop up the spilled mess.

“I toldja. Still want me to stay?”

She looked up at him and laughed. “You’re much more of a character than I ever imagined. Of course I still want you to stay.”

He nodded, giving her a small smile. He moved to sit on the futon, and Matsumoto kicked it from underneath him, causing him to crash onto the floor. “What the fuck?!” He yelled, rubbing his sore behind. Matsumoto looked innocent, fluttering her eyes.

“I can be a nuisance also. Besides, I told you, you are sleeping in the bed.”

“Yes, mother,” Zaraki said in a high pitched voice. He gestured to the back of the house. “I’ve never been in here, so lead the way.”

Matsumoto smirked. “You don’t fool me, Kenpachi-san.”

“Whaddid I do?”

“You only want me to walk in front of you so you can watch my ass.” The accusation was a teasing one, given with a smile. He shrugged. “I can’t help that you are gorgeous. Besides, I have one eye covered! Cut me some slack here!”

She nodded, taking his hand. When he looked confused, she grinned infectiously. “Since you only have one ‘working’ eye, I have to hold on to you and lead you to the bedroom.”

Zaraki grinned lecherously. “I have one eye somewhere else…you gonna hold on to that too?”

“You’re nasty, Kenpachi-san.”

“Nuh uh! I’m clean. Sort of. It’s been a hard day, shit.” He laced his fingers around hers and squeezed her hand flirtatiously as she walked him into the bedroom.

“There’s a bathroom through that door, since you are so unclean. I’m going to go on ahead and get in bed, try not to molest me when you join me.” She regretfully released his warm hand and walked over to a closet and reached for some clothing.

“This was Aizen’s, I think. I’ve washed them, and they are pretty comfortable. You can roll them up at the end so that you don’t look crazy.” She handed him a pair of dark green hakama and some bath slippers. He looked at the clothes and nodded, the material soft and sort of fuzzy.

“Don’t fall asleep until I come back, ok?” Zaraki couldn’t believe the words that came from his mouth. Usually when he spent the night with a woman, it was just for sex. If she fell asleep, it didn’t matter because he’d leave. Matsumoto nodded and turned back toward the closet to take a pink and white yukata out. When she turned again, Zaraki was still standing there, staring at her.

“It costs admission for this peep show, sweetie.” She laughed when he dug in his pockets for money. “Go wash up, I don’t allow dirty butts in my bed.” He smirked and walked into the bathroom, and when she heard the click of the door, she quickly changed and sat on the bed, brushing her hair. Her mind raced and she wondered what would happen next. Did she like Zaraki Kenpachi? Yes. Did she want to sleep with him? Maybe. But the events of the day, along with the lingering intrusive thoughts of Gin made her balk at the thought of coitus. But when she wrapped herself around his lithe body, she felt herself grow faint. She stopped brushing her hair and gazed into a nearby mirror. She looked pretty, and the yukata hugged her curves nicely. She sighed and tossed the brush onto a nearby stand and lay down under the covers, closing her eyes.

“Damnit, didn’t I tell you not to fall asleep?”

“You asked me not to fall asleep, and I didn’t agree one way or the other if I‘d remain conscious.” Her voice was slightly irritated, and she opened her eyes, and then they went wide.

Zaraki was standing there, dripping wet. His hair was down in his face, his chest was bare and glistening, and Aizen’s old pants stuck to his strong, wet legs. She swallowed as she stared at him slowly from head to toe, feeling a rush to her head. Zaraki nodded knowingly.

“It costs admission for this peep show, sweetie,” He teased, running a hair through his wet locks. He climbed onto the bed and stretched, enjoying the feel of the comfortable bed. It was a Western style bed, large and bouncy. The bed could have easily fit at least two other people, and a fleeting perverse thought came in the form of wondering how many Aizen had fucked between these sheets.

“This is my bed, Aizen has never slept in it,” Matsumoto said, almost as if she had been reading Zaraki’s mind. He nodded slowly and looked at her with a smile.

“Are you tired, Ran?”

She nodded, barely noticing the familiar nickname not usually used by him. He snuggled down beside her, but didn’t get underneath the covers. She gazed at him sleepily and shrugged, yawning.

“Well good night then.”

She yawned again and closed her eyes. “Night Kenpachi-san.” A few moments later she was snoring lightly and Zaraki had to chuckle. She reminded him a little of when Yumi would get drunk and fall asleep on him. But instead of rolling her off of him, he wrapped an arm protectively around her and buried his nose in her hair, sleep coming to him easily for the first time in awhile.
***************

A/N: Hmmm...a lemony snicket next chapter? Maybe. And I will shortly honor the Ukitake/Kyouraku lemon. Sorry for ending the chapters at weird places, just chalk it up the charm of the story. Hope you all like this. If not, there's some traffic somewhere you can go play in, I'm sure. ^-^