The Broken Souls of the Seireitei

A/N: What's good...been on the grind SERIOUS lately...I actually took today off to write this chapter. Gas is being rationed in the South, maybe all over, so I'm like fuck, I may as well sit home and write. Thus, a chapter is born. Thanks to all that have reviewed, I'm glad you like this story so much. Love you all.






“A penny for your thoughts.”

“More than that for yours,” Was the absent-minded reply. Yoruichi clicked her tongue and sat on the edge of the roof, leaning her head on Urahara’s shoulder. He sighed and stared forward, flicking his cigarette off the side of the building. He leaned back and gazed at the stars, a crooked smile on his face. Yoruichi gave him a questioning look and he shrugged.

“Do you think Sousuke will come see me tonight?” He asked lightly, folding his arms behind his head.

Yoruichi shrugged. “Maybe, but probably not.” She reached down to ruffle blonde locks, making her friend chuckle.

“You’re right. I mean, Kurotsuchi could very well kill me tomorrow. And the love of my life doesn’t even care. Sigh…how tragic.”

Yoruichi rolled her eyes. “You and Aizen are so dramatic. You should have done Kabuki instead of become shinigami. All of this ‘Oh Sousuke-koi, love me, love me!’ and ‘Kisuke-chan, please be a good uke for me, and I’ll give you anything’. Blah!” She said, giving him a thumbs down. Urahara grimaced at her.

“You can’t tell me that we don’t remind you of yourself and Soi Fon.”

Yoruichi bristled. “Taking low shots at this hour, are you? And actually no, you all were nothing like Soi Fon and me.” She stood, brushing her butt off before walking away. She turned and paused at the door. “The main difference between me and Soi and you and Sousuke is that Soi knew her place. You don’t.” She smiled smartly and walked into the house, making Urahara frown.

“No kitty litter for you this week,” He angrily murmured, closing his eyes and basking in the glow of the moon. He smiled a few moments later.

“I knew you would come.”

The figure above chuckled. “Oh, what quickly renewed faith! You sounded doubtful a few moments ago. I didn’t come to stay, so don’t even bother opening your eyes.”

Urahara frowned. “I can’t open my eyes?”

“No.”

“A kiss before dying then?” He blindly smiled, but then frowned when there was no reply. He turned his head to the left, as if he were searching for his lover.

“Sousuke…?”

“Don’t kid about that, Kisuke. You aren’t going to die. Not there…not in front of them.”

Urahara chuckled again and held his arms up. He was easily pulled to his feet, and he felt arms encircle him. He sighed with contentment, burying his head in a warm neck.

“I could push you off this roof and injure you so that you couldn’t go.” Aizen’s voice was warm and convincing, as if he were offering to take Urahara for ice cream.

“I know.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I trust you just as much as I love you.” Aizen felt his heart fall to the pit of his stomach. He pulled Urahara even closer and held him so tightly, the blonde started to turn red and gasp for air.

“I love you,” Aizen whispered emotionally, catching slightly chapped lips between his. Their kiss was slow, their tongues melding together, smoldering, burning them both internally. Urahara pulled away after a few moments, opening his eyes gazing into hazel orbs hungrily.

“I want you.”

Aizen grinned charismatically. “I know. But that’s a risk I won’t take. You need all your reiatsu and strength to defeat Kurotsuchi. I have confidence in you, but I don’t trust that clown bastard at all. He will fight dirty, and I want you to be at the top of your game. Besides, I always like seeing bruises on your pale, delicious flesh.” Aizen bit Urahara on the neck hard, making the skin welt up and turn red. He grinned at the moan he received and drew back, winding his fingers into the curly blonde hair.

“I have to get back to Hueco Mundo. I’ll be watching you,” Aizen whispered, kissing Urahara again. He received a smile in return, and when he turned to leave, Urahara swatted him hard on his butt, making him turn around gape mouthed.

“It wasn’t me,” Urahara joked, making Aizen flip him off. “I love you. See you soon, Sousuke.”

The sky opened up a jagged black portal and the familiar yellow light cast down, enveloping Aizen. He slowly ascended into the sky, placing his hand against the edge of the beam, staring down at Urahara.

“Yes, Kisuke. I’ll see you sooner than you think.” He smiled angelically as he disappeared into the sky, his lover staring up wistfully at him.

*******************************

Ichigo folded his arms on the side of the bed and stared at Nemu. The girl’s sleep was fitful at best, and he felt ashamed that he had not came to see her before now. He had sent word to Uryuu through Chad that Nemu was doing better, and prayed that he wasn’t lying. His sister was right; he needed to find a better balance between work, friends, and Byakuya. He reached his hand to brush a violet strand of hair from the girl’s bruised face. He was internally glad that the swelling was starting to go down, and even though the once blueberry colored bruises were turning putrid yellow, that at least meant they were healing.

“It’s a shame, isn’t it, Kurosaki-fukutaicho?”

He snatched his hand away and looked up to see Hanataro standing awkwardly in the doorway with a clipboard in his hand. The pale man smiled gently and quickly checked Nemu’s vitals, looking her over and nodding, writing on the clipboard. Ichigo silently watched him, remembering many a night when he watched his father check the vital signs of his patients in Karakura.

Ichigo fidgeted and clasp his hands in his lap. “So is she ok? I mean after that, I’m sure she’s not ok, but is she healing alright?”

Hanataro finished writing and nodded at Ichigo. “She is healing well, but I don’t want her to heal too fast.” His eyes darkened and he looked out the window, eyes narrowed. “When she heals, we will undoubtedly have to send her back to her division, and Kurotsuchi will more than likely kill her. Like anyone gives a shit,” He muttered more to himself than anyone, making Ichigo’s eyes widen.

“So Yamamoto didn’t say anything about punishing that bastard when he came to see Nemu?” He asked, openly fishing for information. Hanataro gave him a chiding look.

“No disrespect, Kurosaki-fukutaicho, but what makes you think Yamamoto cares enough to come see Nemu? If he isn’t going to punish the man that did this, then there is no point of him even coming here. At least not on my watch. I’m still mad over him ordering Rukia to be executed for transferring her shinigami powers to you.” He angrily snapped his clipboard, making Ichigo’s brow widen in interest.

“You like Kuchiki-fukutaicho, Taro-san?”

“She is with Madarame-fukutaicho.” The words sounded extremely sour on the boy’s lips. Eyes were averted back to the clipboard, making Ichigo smirk.

“That isn’t an answer. Besides, ‘you’d make her happy’, wouldn‘t you? Or at least that is what you said, right?” Taro’s eyes flew up and his grip on the clipboard tightened.

“She told you?” He asked in a small voice, hoping not to be the butt of a cruel joke. Ichigo smiled lightly and shook his head. He tapped his temple. “You did. I suppose it happened way back when Rukia transferred her powers to me, and it definitely isn’t as strong as it used to be, but you can say she and I share a telepathic link. Telepathic? Telekinesis?” He questioned out loud, rubbing his chin. “It’s one of those.”

“Telepathic,” Taro said quietly, blushing furiously. Ichigo stood and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay…and you’ve been patient for so long. It will pay off soon, I just know it. It was sort of the same with me and Byakuya. I felt something for him long before I even knew, but Rukia could see it. It‘s the same with me and her; I can tell she has feelings for you. But as to when she will act on them…” He trailed off and shrugged. Taro nodded, his hair in his face, shielding his eyes. Ichigo smiled and patted his shoulder, exiting the room.

Taro sighed and looked at Nemu, who was now still and breathing shallowly. Her chest still rattled louder than he liked, and she constantly clutched at the sheets. He scratched his head and sat in the chair Ichigo had previously occupied. Sighing again, he folded his arms on the side of her bed, watching her breathe and hating both of their current situations.

****************************

“Hey friend,” Zaraki casually said, striding into Byakuya’s office. He looked around and sat down at Renji’s desk, rearranging the pens.

Byakuya looked up from his papers to give him an annoyed look. “Why are you here?”

“Why are you here?”

Byakuya’s features flattened. “This is my division, dumbass.”

“So it is.” Zaraki’s voice was unusually cheerful, and Byakuya had not sensed any spikes in reiatsu, so he was fairly sure there had been no fighting. He stopped writing and looked Zaraki in the eye.

“Hmmm. I bet that was the same look I gave you when you said I’d fucked Ichigo. Well, how was it?” Byakuya asked, leaning back in his chair.

Zaraki grinned manically. “He’s just as tight as you said.”

“WHAT?!!!” Senbonzakura was quickly grabbed and advancing toward the taller man.

Zaraki laughed so hard he started coughing. “I’m just kidding man! Strawberry isn’t my type. I like strawberry-blonde.” Byakuya sat back down and folded his arms. He was tired of people picking on him, and his throat still mildly hurt from Isshin’s earlier attack.

“She’s awesome man. It’s like I fucked her, and then I made love to her. And you know me. I don’t make love to bitches!” Zaraki said, spreading his hands out. Then he paused.

“She ain’t a bitch, I take that back. But I usually fuck bitches. But I made love to a woman. She’s not even a broad or a chick. She’s a…she’s a…”

“Lady?” Byakuya helpfully inserted. Zaraki snapped his fingers and pointed at him.

“Yeah! One of ‘em!” He ignored the chuckle from his friend, and pulled Renji’s chair in front of his desk.

“Man…her pussy is like one of those cinnamon roll things. Hot and creamy,” He said, actually closing his eyes and licking his lips.

Byakuya made a face. “So it’s brown and speckled? Perhaps she should go see Unohana about that,” He lightly teased, earning the middle finger from his friend.

“No asshole, its freakin delicious for no good damn reason. Dude, but she’s so fuckin hot. Like the hottest ‘lady’ I’ve ever banged. Her pussy man, it fuckin talks to me!”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yes huh!”

“How?” Byakuya folded his arms in preparation of whatever intellectual jewels to be dropped on him.

Zaraki stood, prepared to skit out his scenario. “Ok, so I’m fuckin her right? Just slappin my shit against her, and when I pull out, her pussy says ‘PBBBBBBBBBBBBTTTTT!!!” He said, blowing a wet raspberry between his lips.

Byakuya laughed so hard he choked on his own spit, and Zaraki had to come behind him and slap his back. It had been months since the Kuchiki had himself a gut busting laugh, and Zaraki was glad to have been the one to give it to him. He poured his friend a glass of water, chuckling when bubbles formed in the glass as Byakuya kept laughing as he drank.

“You’re so adorable and rosy today, Kuchiki. You have an ethereal glow about you,” Zaraki commented, once they both had calmed down. Byakuya smiled.

“It’s only because I just nearly choked to death. Nothing more,” He said, coughing once again to clear his throat. “Ah…you kill me. Literally.” He stood from his desk, cracking his back. “So how does Yachiru-chan feel about Matsumoto?”

Zaraki’s face fell. “I haven’t told her yet. Unohana has been really nice about keeping her for me while I hang out with Rangiku, but I know that will get old soon. I burned her once with Isane. She won’t be as nice or trusting to Rangiku,” He said, scratching his neck. Byakuya nodded. It was true, Yachiru was looking to Isane for a mother figure, and was flat out denied. Yachiru didn’t tell Zaraki until the couple had broken up, but Isane had told the girl many times that if Zaraki were to marry her, she would give him a ‘real’ child, and there would be no place for her. She still hadn’t gotten completely over the fear of being ‘replaced’.

“Well Kenpachi, thank you for that much needed laugh. Kami-sama knows what tomorrow is going to bring.” Both men grew even more somber. “Is Urahara still coming?” Zaraki asked in a low voice.

“As far as I know.”

Zaraki nodded. “I’ll fight that clown bastard if I have to, and we can worry about the mechanics later. I’m gonna go wish Rangiku good night and then turn in myself. Have a good night.” He encircled Byakuya briefly and then walked away as quietly as he came, having an odd grace for someone so tall muscular. Byakuya watched him walk away and then closed the door to his own office, heading home.

********************

Matsumoto peered over the edge of the roof before sitting down carefully. She pulled the cans of soda she had been carrying between her breasts out and popped the tabs, handing one to Kira.

“It’s warm,” Her blonde guest whined, batting his blue eyes. Matsumoto frowned.

“Shut up and be thankful I could swipe it. Zaraki has been hoarding a stash, and when I went by to see him earlier, I took a few. I’m sure he knows I took them, but I didn’t feel like asking him for them.” She shrugged and took a sip of the fluid, grimacing. Kira was right; the soda was warm. She hiccupped and patted her chest, burping.

“So why did you invite me over?” Kira asked, dangling his long legs over the edge of the roof. He knew how far over the edge he could go as he was very familiar with the roof of Aizen’s house. Surprisingly, he and Gin had never been caught.

“I just wanted to talk and see how you are doing. How is having Ichigo’s dad as your taicho coming?”

Kira grumbled. “That man is psycho. I’m sure he means well, but he’s not-”

“Gin?” Matsumoto said softly, touching Kira’s hand. The man pulled away, wrapping his arms around himself. “Izuru, it’s ok to be sad and miss him, but he did horrible things to me, to you. Ask yourself, do you really want him back?”

“YES!” Kira shouted, rocking himself back and forth. “Why didn’t he take me? Why did he leave me here?” He sobbed, holding his head down. Matsumoto tried to cradle him, but she was shoved away. “You don’t care! You don’t even miss him! You’ve moved on already just like the slut you are!” Kira’s eyes widened and he turned scarlet red.

“I didn’t mean that. I promise, I didn’t mean that,” He sputtered, biting his lip hard enough for it to start to bleed. Matsumoto stared at the sky, not looking at him.

“Please leave, Izuru.”

“Rangiku, please. I’m so, so, so sorry I said that. Please, I just-”

She held up her hand. “I know, Izuru. But right now, I need you to leave. Please,” She whispered, turning towards him. He saw the tears in her eyes, and wanted to die. He was supposed to be her friend, her closest confidant. She realized his emotions had gotten the best of him and that he was more volatile than her, but it didn’t make his words sting less. He stood shakily and cast her a contrite look as he jumped gracefully from the roof and walked through the garden.

Matsumoto watched as Kira walked away and then leaned back against the roof, sighing. She didn’t want her warm soda anymore, so she tipped it on it’s side, watching the liquid bubble and foam as it ran away from her to the edge of the roof. She rested her head on the warm tiles and closed her eyes, wiping her eyes.

“What the fuck? Is it raining?”

Her eyes shot open and she scrambled to the edge, looking down. Zaraki was looking up at her, annoyed and covered in soda.

“Zaraki?”

“No, it’s Yamamoto in pink panties. Of course it’s me! Why did you throw soda at me?” He asked in a gruff tone, brushing the liquid off his shoulders.

She peered at him over the edge. “I didn’t throw it at you; you just showed up at the wrong time.” Her voice was hard, and it almost made him flinch.

“I didn’t let you take that soda to pour it out, Rangiku.”

She frowned. “So sue me then.”

Zaraki frowned back, sensing something was wrong. “I was only kidding. Hey, is now a bad time or something?”

She shrugged. “It depends. What do you want?”

Zaraki reddened, having his fill of her attitude. “Nothing. I just wanted to tell you good night. So good night,” He snapped, turning to walk away.

“Kenpachi, stop.”

He stopped.

“Please come up here with me for a few minutes. I mean, if you have time.” Her voice wavered and cracked, and he knew something was wrong. He gracefully leapt to the roof, wind blowing over both of them from his robes fluttering. He prepared to sit when he saw the other can of soda. His facial expression hardened.

“What’s that? Your boyfriend didn’t like the soda either?” His voice was mocking, and before he could compute, Matsumoto was on her feet and in his face.

“LISTEN! DON’T GIVE ME ANY SHIT OK? I WAS ALREADY CALLED A SLUT LIKE FIVE MINUTES BEFORE YOU GOT HERE, I DON’T NEED ANY MORE DRAMA!” She shoved him backwards and plopped back down, head in hands trying not to cry.

Zaraki looked shocked. “Who called you a slut?”

“Does it matter?” Her words were muffled by the hand over her face. Zaraki sat down gingerly beside her and pulled her hand away. He looked at her tear streaked face and combed some hair back from her brow.

She sighed, deep and gusty. “It was Kira. He feels betrayed that I’ve moved on from Gin and he hasn’t. He didn’t mean it, I know he didn’t, but it still hurt. It’s like that rumor Momo spread. People are all like ‘Oh, I’m on your side, Ran,’ but as soon as I do or say something they don’t like, I’m back to being the local drunken whore. And I haven’t even had a drink all day,” She whined, putting her hand back on her face.

Zaraki, embarrassed and ashamed at his dig at her earlier stroked her back in a comforting manner. “I know you aren’t a whore.”

Matsumoto pulled away. “You thought I had someone else up here in a romantic way. I wouldn’t do that to you, because I value your friendship.” Her words were earnest, and they moved Zaraki’s heart.

“I have more to offer than just friendship,” He whispered, taking her hand in his and kissing it softly. She stared at him with wide crystal blue eyes. He caressed her face with his thumb and gave her the softest kiss she had ever received.

“I don’t know how much I can offer you though,” She whispered, kissing him again. He smiled in their kiss and pressed his forehead against hers.

“This isn’t something that needs to be resolved right now. Tomorrow we have to get this Kurotsuchi thing squared away. And after that,” He paused, kissing her a third time, “After that, we will see where this goes. Okay?”

He stood and bent over, picking her up. Once she was in his arms, he jumped off the roof and landed on the veranda, setting her down easily. He opened the back door for her, gesturing for her to go inside.

“I’m sorry for spilling soda on you,” She said, reddening up a bit. He waved his hand. “I took an unfair shot at you. We’re even. Just hand me a moist cloth so the mosquitoes don’t eat me up on the way home.”

She chuckled and went inside, coming back moments later with a damp towel. She told him to be still as she sponged off his face and neck, feeling herself get damp with the simple contact. Once she was done cleaning him, he leaned in for another sweet kiss, this time letting his lips linger on hers for several moments.

“Good night, Matsumoto taicho.”

“Good night, Zaraki taicho.”

She watched him walk through the garden and down the road, remaining outside until she felt his reiatsu fade away. She smiled at the now almost dry cloth in her hand and sniffed it, smelling an odd but comforting combination of Zaraki and soda. She smiled to herself as she closed the back door and headed to bed.




A/N: The fight will be next...it will be swimmingly delicious. (I hope) ^-^