The Noble Sort

A/N: As usual, all the important information is lurking in the notes of the first two parts.

This update (December 26) is 27-30, all part of a very Belated Christmas present to you guys. I've spent the last two days with my family and wasn't able to get them posted when I wanted, unfortunately, but still! Six chapters (or eight, depending on the site) in less than a week! That's a lot for you all to enjoy!

Merry Christmas!

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"The Noble Sort"

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That Sunday

"So, what is all this?" Akane asked as she entered the dining room.

"Preparation," Minako remarked dryly.

The younger woman looked at the piles of stuff spread out on the dining room table, not seeing how anything could be considered preparation. Not for a one-on-one battle with Nishiori, anyway. Maybe if they were robbing a bank…

"These," Minako said as she pointed to four cell phones laid side by side, "are for communication. Maybe for a sound distraction; I'm not too sure on that. These," she said, pointing to the two Zero cloaks they had been able to grab after taking out Rashogen and Matsuno, "are for us to be able to move without being noticed. Probably for fighting, as well. Nishiori's alone—he won't be stupid."

The girl nodded, slurping out of her bowl of noodles.

"And the rest?"

Minako fingered one of the two silver pins on the table, grinning when one of the phones beeped loudly in the quiet house.

"These are tracking devices. One for oji-san, which will be a bitch to get on him. The other is for Sasakibe, who will probably just carry the damn thing around if you ask him nicely enough." She furrowed her brow. "I had considered another one, to tag Nishiori just in case he was able to run, but I have a better back-up plan."

"That's why you have four phones instead of two, huh?"

"Precisely. And these are reiatsu inhibitors—yes," she said as she saw the look the girl shot her, "the same ones they use for prisoners. But these we can remove at will, just like a bracelet. It will keep us fully hidden from anyone's senses, even Nishiori's. And they've been tweaked. You won't be totally defenseless with it on."

"Do I want to know—"

"Probably not," she replied wryly. "It took calling in more favors than I ever thought possible, especially considering the fact that I'm 'dead.'"

"And those?" Akane asked, her voice wavering. "They're useless on shinigami, right?"

Minako's smirk was positively evil as she picked up one of the black weapons, the light glinting off the cool metal.

"Not when they're modified correctly. Isamu's modified them where they have one shot each—only one, remember that, Akane—and there's a high level kidō spell time-coded into the ammunition. When the bullet separates—it'll just fly through anyone it's aimed at—the spell will be released. It'll do its job just as planned. And they make for a great scare tactic."

"But why is it all needed, Minako? If we're just gonna hunt him down like the others—"

"We're not," she said, her voice hard as she let the weapon fall back to the table from her hand. "He knows he's the last one; he knows I'm alive now I'm sure. He won't let himself be hunted down." She turned to the girl, a ferocious look on her face. "He'll either bury himself so deep in Zero that we can't get to him without ripping through half the division—which is impossible for us to do—or he'll do what any scared, cornered criminal would do and try to take out the evidence. And then run."

"What do you mean?" she asked. "What evidence?"

"Us. Oji-san. Sasakibe. Even Aizen, most likely. He's the only one left to go down for it—he'll try to eliminate anyone who knows anything about it or anyone he thinks knows about it. But he can't find us, and he can't get to Aizen that easily. It's one thing to visit him, but you can't get anywhere near him."

"So there's only one real target for him now," Akane said, her voice breathy and eyes wide.

"Oji-san. He'll hope to take them out somehow and draw me out into the open, pin it all on me. Well, that's how oji-san's letter explained it. I'm inclined to agree, although I have some doubts."

"But it's—it's ridiculous! You can't just take down the sou-taichou! He has to know that!"

"He would if he was thinking," she said sarcastically. "He'll be scared and stupid. It's how it goes, trust me. I've been there before. Plus, oji-san's missing an arm. He won't be the only one thinking he can take him out now—not my fault they're stupid enough to think that way."

"So all this is to—what? I get what you're saying, but it makes no sense."

"He'll move quickly, so we move quickly. He would've found out yesterday that Matsu's dead, he'll spend today plotting, and he'll move sometime in the next few days. Most likely try to get to them when he can slip in—when they're going to or leaving work, having a meeting, something. Or he'll go for the offices, try to grab the evidence and run. That'll be his last resort."

"So…"

"We're leaving tonight. Kenta and Isamu are both on standby and will move into Rukongai at the same time. We're gonna get those transmitters on oji-san and 'Kibe and stick with them day and night until he makes his move. When he does, we'll have back-up. It might not be fair, but four against one assures he won't be getting away from this." She shot the girl a worried look. "And I'm not letting you go in with one of those cloaks and follow 'Kibe without back-up at your beck and call."

"But you're going to let me, finally? I finally get to do something other than sit here?" she asked excitedly, bouncing in anticipation.

"I told you," she said sarcastically, "stick around and you'll find out the hard way."

Akane stared, amazed at the detailed plan the woman had come up with in under two days. Although she had probably been planning longer; these weren't things you could get that quickly. Especially the inhibitors…what kind of connection would she have in the corps that she could get that kind of stuff? Maybe it was one of the boys' connections?

"So the cloaks and inhibitors hide us, the transmitters track them, and the phones are for comm. I got that. But what are the guns for?"

Her sensei shot her a look that opened a pit of fear in the bottom of her stomach. Her eyes were dead, lifeless—unusual for the fiery woman.

"Lesson number four: insurance. Always have a way out—never walk into a battle you might lose and not have a back-up strategy." She picked the gun up, sliding it into the waistband of her black pants. It fit snugly between the fabric and the small of her back. The inhibitor was slid onto her wrist, the cell phone into her pocket. "Use yours how you will. I'm not going to let Zero take me in—no matter what I have to do."

Hikaru-san had been correct, Akane realized grimly. Minako was in way too deep to ever get out; the woman had made sure that her death would be on her terms.

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They reached the trees surrounding the Yamamoto property long before sunset, but Minako stopped their progress, picking a shady, hidden area and letting herself collapse with a sigh.

Akane followed her sensei's lead, even though she was suspicious about why they had stopped. Especially with Minako now taking the cloak off.

"I'm rethinking some things, sorry," she said, shooting a worried glance at her student.

As you should, onna. This plan was ridiculous.

Thanks for the confidence, shishi.

"Like what?"

"Just different things. Trying to run through everything in my mind; once we go in there, we're trapped in a scenario—no changes."

"But—but why?" Akane asked, incredulous. "I thought you had this all worked out."

"Why? Because I don't like to march into situations without thinking everything through. And two days wasn't exactly a lot of time to plan this out." She tossed her hair. "Besides, I need a little more shadow on the lawn before we just hop on across. I don't feel like getting caught."

Akane was silent. Minako almost grinned at the "thinking" look that had come over her face.

"You're right," she said slowly.

We are always right, red one.

Minako snorted.

"You latch onto that thought and hold tight."

"Funny, sensei. Real funny."

She did grin this time.

She shrugged and rolled her right shoulder; she still wasn't fully healed and parts of her were hurting. Then she stood up slowly, gesturing at the house with her chin. "I think the sun's down enough—let's go."

Akane got up quickly and fell into step behind her, and they moved out of the safety of the trees into the open yard in front of them. There were shadows everywhere, thankfully, due to the setting sun, but they still moved quickly and quietly. They used the bushes near her mother's old home to hide at first, then the small patch of trees and tall grass near the pond. Finally, they zoomed across the open space between the house and the pond, their shunpo soundless.

It took them less than a minute to cross the grass and get to the relative safety of the veranda, and they hid near the corner of the house, right by the entrance near the kitchen.

"Ready?" she whispered.

"Yeah," Akane replied, red hair bobbing with her head.

Minako slid the door open quietly, and their footsteps were nonexistent even in the silence of the house.

They could hear Hikaru humming softly in the kitchen as they passed, but they were heading straight for the lesser-used sitting area, the least formal public room in the house. Only family tended to use the room, and she could feel her oji-san there, alone.

They tiptoed down the hall and around the corner quietly, coming to a stop at the large entrance hall.

Minako put her finger to her mouth and gestured at the door opposite them; her uncle was in there. They slowly made their way across the large area, making sure to stay far to the left where he wouldn't be able to see them from inside the room if they removed their cloaks. They came to a stop right beside the door.

It was open; she could see her uncle sitting at the low table in the center of the room, his attention on what seemed to be a stack of calligraphy or paperwork. At this distance the writing was undistinguishable, although she recognized form 86-3, one of the budget forms—

"Are you going to lurk in the hall or come in to explain why you are here?"

They both cringed, sinking down into the comforting invisibility of the cloaks they wore. Even shishi was cringing into a corner in her head, his fur bristling from her uncle's scolding tone.

Then she sighed, throwing the cloak off of her head and pulling it from her shoulders before striding into the room and throwing it haphazardly across one of the few western-style chairs present. She would at least look like she had confidence. It always made him easier to stand up to if she looked the part.

"Oji-sama," she said, bowing at the waist as she came to a stop before him.

"Niece," he replied, a stubborn something present in his voice. He was in a mood apparently.

She sank to the floor as gracefully as possible, sitting directly across from him at the low table. She watched as Akane shrugged out of her own cloak, keeping it in her arms as she moved to take one of the western-style chairs nearest the bookcases. The girl was trembling a little, obviously nervous, although she was holding together better than Minako had ever thought she would.

Akane had done well interacting with her uncle so far, but dropping something like this on him was likely to bring out his bad side. Even Akane could see that, and the anticipation of his temper was already causing her to stress over the situation.

"To what do I owe this…unexpected visit?"

"Nishiori-san."

"Oh? Even while tracking him, you are not to be in Seireitei without warning, Minako."

His voice was hard and she fought the urge to flinch. It was only going to get worse as the conversation went on, she knew. He would hate the idea that she would be trailing him.

"He's going to come after you, you told me that, oji-sama."

"Hmm."

"I intend to be here to meet him when he does."

He set his brush down before moving the sheet of paper he was working on to the side, then he picked up another. Obviously the loss of part of his left arm hadn't stopped him from working.

"I am capable of defeating him if he should do so."

"This is my job, oji-sama. I will be the one to deal with him." She traced the kanji he had drawn with her eyes, afraid to look at him directly. "You will not be implicated in this."

"I already have been," he replied dryly, not looking up from his calligraphy. "The leader of the Royal Guard paid me a visit early yesterday."

She felt shock take over her body, gooseflesh spreading down her arms. Zero already thought he had some involvement in it, even if it was something small. She had intended to make sure that wouldn't happen—she should've known better. Matsu wasn't that stupid; Nishiori probably wasn't either. And their leader, he was levels above them.

"I am truly sorry, then, oji-sama," she said, her head bowed. "I will be sure to keep—"

"You will stop with this nonsense, that is what you will do!" he boomed suddenly, his brush flying down to the table and slinging ink all over the paper and the polished wooden surface.

"Oji-sama—"

"I have had enough of this. You will cease your petty, childish display at once and—"

"I did not start this, oji-sama," she said, her voice dangerously low and vibrating with anger, her mask of civility gone, "you did, three years ago. I did what I had to but you are the one that's made it worse."

He stared at her, his eyes hard, before allowing one word to slip past his lips.

"Leave."

His voice was made of pure stone.

"Leave."

Minako stared at him, shock written all over her face, ready to protest, but then she realized he wasn't looking at her any longer. His attention was on Akane, the poor girl, who was now sitting ramrod straight in her chair and looking more scared than anyone Minako had ever seen. She was nodding, obviously understanding his last statement was directed at her, and scrambling from the chair as quickly as possible now, only stopping to throw her cloak over Minako's.

"Come, child," Minako heard Hikaru say from the doorway, most likely called to the room by her uncle's fit of temper, "I'll make you something to eat."

The maid sent them both a stern look before slamming the door shut.

"Nonsense, oji-sama?" she asked threateningly.

"It is utter nonsense. You always have to be difficult." His hand, now resting on the table, clenched and unclenched. "If you had obeyed my wishes years ago we would not be in this position—"

"Bullshit."

"Do not speak to me that way, do you understand me?" he said, his eyes glaring holes in her face. "I am still your uncle, I still demand your respect!"

"You have never given me any!" she screamed as she jerked upright and to her feet, pacing the tatami mat. "You've done everything you ever could to make my life hell, yet you want my respect? Hell," she said, shrugging, her arm flinging wildly about, "I came here to protect you and you still treat me like I'm dirt beneath your feet."

"I have never—"

She stopped, turning toward him.

"Really?" she asked, disbelieving. "Never a promotion when I deserved it. Never listening to me. I feared the loss of whatever little regard you might have had for me so much I fucking left because of you!" She let out a shuddering breath, willing her eyes not to let the tears she could feel forming fall. She hadn't cried in years. "I thanked every deity I knew that I wasn't pregnant—I wouldn't put any kid through what I went through growing up, wouldn't let someone else know what it was to be unwanted in your own fucking family. But even then I wouldn't return—you- you-gah!"

She whipped around with a shout, flinging her hands about and looking for something good and smashable to throw.

"I could never be on good terms with you both! When mother finally cared enough to know me, I was gone and you hated me for leaving!"

"Even if your mother did not treat you well, I never treated you as if you were a burden, Minako. I never once said you were unwanted. As for not believing your story when you approached us, can you truly blame me?"

"Yes, I can! I can blame you all I want!" She knew it was childish, but it had felt good to finally say it. "You're disbelief cost me eighty years of pain and isolation! There were nights I would dream—my best dreams...but I always woke up."

"Eventually it got easier. I learned to deal with it, I carved out some sort of life for myself. Was I happy?" She laughed; it was scornful, mocking. "Of course not. But it was something better than just existing. And then," she said, her voice breaking as she slumped in on herself, shoulders falling, "and then…you brought me back. You couldn't leave me alone."

"Silence—"

"No! I took the only road I had. They would have killed me otherwise. And be honest, you wouldn't have lifted a finger to protect me from Central or Zero." She turned to face him again, eyes red and puffy but no tears actually showing. "But you let me have a- a taste of what it would be like before you made sure to force me away again."

"I never forced you to leave," he said, his fist slamming down onto the table. "You chose to leave."

"Yes," she said wetly, "I chose to leave instead of embroiling you in all of this. Instead of staying here—you had just told me you thought me unworthy of your student. You called me a liar, a whore, and you thought I would stay, after that?"

"Minako, I never—" he said, his voice hushed.

"You did!" she shrieked. "I had finally found something to keep me here, I wasn't alone for the first time in decades—you looked at me like I was the scum on the bottom of your shoe— you called me a whore. I thought you, of all people, knew better."

Her eyes scanned the room, quickly, but she couldn't find—

There.

There was some, probably priceless, vase sitting on one of the bookshelves. She crossed to it, let out a loud shriek, and smashed in into pieces on the floor. It helped take the edge off, but the anger and the devastation that had been locked inside her for years was still there, still simmering.

"You thought so little of me, I- I- I've given up on trying to figure out what type of punishment this is," she said, her voice watery. She slid down the bookcase into a crumpled position on the tatami mat, her hands cradling her face. The tears couldn't be stopped anymore.

"What does that mean?" he asked, his voice low, his tone wary.

"When this is done, I have nothing," she sobbed even as she fought for control of her emotions. "You've taken it all."

"What do you mean?" he repeated, his voice still low, although it had taken on a dangerous tint.

She was silent.

She rubbed at her eyes and raised her face to his as she finally felt the numbness take over. It wasn't emotional control but it was better than the blubbering, the crying. The numbness meant pain, yes, usually so much pain she couldn't even feel anymore, but it also meant no crying.

"For eighty years I've thought of nothing but revenge. I've lost my home, my pride, I've killed a man I once—when it's done, I'm done. I won't let you take the last thing I have—I won't rot in your prison," she said, her tone emotionless and her eyes almost dead as she stared at him. "I won't let you take my life; I'll do it myself before I let you have that, too."

He was up and moving before her brain could even process it, his hand jerking her from the floor by the wrist and pushing her against the bookcase. His face was close to hers—even now he was taller than she—and his eyes were open fully, the brown orbs flashing angrily.

"You will do no such thing," he said, his eyes glittering dangerously. "I have not worked day and night to keep you out of prison so you can kill yourself at the first opportunity. You are supposed to be stronger than that—only the weak take such a cowardly action as a solution."

She stared up at him, shock written on her face and her mouth hanging open.

"I was angry," he said forcefully as he pulled her to him awkwardly, hugging her with his only arm. "Too many decisions have been made in anger; I will not let you decide this in such a manner."

"But you—"

"I have said many things in anger. You have always been too stubborn, too spirited. But that you would actually believe some of them—do you have so little sense?" She felt him take in a shuddering breath. "You were the child I never had, even if your mother and father never wanted you."

"I—"

"I have always loved you as if you were my own. Even when I was angry with you. Even when I was punishing you."

She let out a gasp of surprise as her arms came up to encircle him.

It was the first time in her life, she was pretty sure, that anyone had ever said that to her and meant it. Only one other person had ever even said the words, and he had raped her. In her mind, nothing Matsu had ever said counted anymore, even if it was possible he meant it at some point.

"Do you understand?"

"Hai," she said softly, the anger flowing away. She felt pounds lighter; the weight that had been sitting on her chest for the past three years was gone now.

Was it all done? Probably not, she knew. There was still too much to say. But so much of what had been festering inside her the past few years was out, now, no longer eating away at her. Perhaps it could be the new start they should have had three years ago.

He pulled back, stepping away and composing himself, before he shot her a look.

"Are you rational?" he asked dryly.

She felt a smile begin to form on her face at the very expected question, and she nodded, biting her lower lip to keep from laughing. She wiped the tears from her face, moving to follow him back to the table. Now that the shouting was done, Hikaru would be bringing in tea soon.

She never made it there, though.

The door slid open and she heard her former taichou's familiar "Yama-jii-" and then only silence as he stared at her, shock written on his face.

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Things in the kitchen were somewhat tense, although the tea was helping Akane calm down and the explosive argument between the two living members of the Yamamoto clan was nothing new to Hikaru.

But each woman knew this was somewhat different. Finally, after years of stewing and letting everything build, they would have it out and be done with it, for better or worse. There would be no more tiptoeing around the subject for anyone. It would all be out in the open, finally.

"Would you like a rice cake, Akane-san? I have a few left from tea earlier. I was preparing to start the evening meal, unfortunately—nothing is ready yet."

"No thank you, Hikaru-san," Akane murmured politely. "Not really hungry."

The servant patted her on the shoulder.

"They can be unnerving, I know. Both Genryuusai-dono and Minako-dono have explosive tempers. They should have known not to let this go as long as it has; it only ever makes it worse."

"Will—" Akane gulped, looking away. "Will he hurt her?"

Hikaru looked at her aghast.

"Of course not, child! They are both fiery, yes, but neither has ever become physical in such a fight. They have argued on the training grounds before, but they have never truly hurt each other in such a manner. Swords have been pulled before, and there have been times—but they have never done actual harm. Words are enough; you see how much damage they have done."

"Mmhmm."

"It will be better, actually." Hikaru laughed softly at the look of pure astonishment the young woman sent her way. "It will. They tend to do much better once they have cleared the air."

"Really?" she asked skeptically.

"I have not served this family all these years and not learned their ways. It is how they resolve their problems, Akane-san. They let everything build up inside until they can no longer control it. Then the fire-nature takes its natural course—they explode at each other, dear. But it burns shortly."

"I hope you're right about—"

They both turned at the sound of knocking on the wooden frame of the door near the kitchen, startled.

"Are you expecting anyone, Hikaru-san?"

"Indeed, no. And only a select few would use the garden entrance," Hikaru murmured as Akane moved toward the door.

Both felt their stomachs drop as they saw the silhouette of Kyouraku-taichou through the thin door, his sakkat casting a huge shadow in the light of the setting sun. Akane gulped, turning to Hikaru for guidance, but the older woman just shook her head, eyes wide. She wasn't sure what to do either.

Although they both knew he had to be let in; he knew that Hikaru was there, surely. She rarely left.

Akane slid the door open, bowing slightly as she moved to the side to allow him to enter, and she breathed a sigh of relief when Hikaru stepped forward, ushering him into the kitchen and immediately drawing his attention. She had a cup of tea placed in front of him before he could even ask for the sou-taichou.

"Shunsui-san, what brings you our way this evening? You have not been by in at least a month!" Hikaru said, her pleasant smile firmly in place.

"Ah, I just need to speak to Yama-jii for a minute. I'll be out of your hair soon, Hikaru-san."

"Nonsense!" she replied, bustling about the kitchen and adding a rice cake to go with his tea. "I only wish I saw you more often. I do miss having the house full of you young people."

"Young, Hikaru-san?" he asked, winking at her.

"To me, you are and will always be young, Shunsui-san."

His eyes lit upon Akane, who was standing very still and quiet by the entrance to the kitchen. She was hoping she wouldn't be noticed, would have given anything to have her cloak at that moment—but it was too late. She should have known better; Minako had told her tons of stories about her former taichou and his love of women, his intelligence, his true capabilities.

"And your guest, Hikaru-san? I do not believe I have met her, but I was sure I knew all the pretty ladies!"

"This is Akane-san," Hikaru said, and Akane bowed, hoping she was hiding her trembling from the very intelligent, very powerful man in front of her. "She is one of Genryuusai-dono's newest clerks. Very helpful. I believe he has her on a special mission at present."

"Hai, Hikaru-san," Akane said softly, hoping it would be enough to fill his interest without leaving him wanting to know more.

"Well, don't let him work you too hard," he said teasingly.

Akane just nodded, returning her gaze to the floor. Her mind was racing as she tried to figure out whether or not she should warn the two in the other room that there was company or if they should just try to get rid of him.

"Quiet one, isn't she?"

"Sometimes, Shunsui-san. But where is your young lady? Have you given her time to herself tonight?"

"She'll be meeting me at the division later. She was just dropping something by for a friend. I'm hoping to sweet-talk her into a night at the loveliest little teahouse in the sixth district. A night of my fair Nanao-chan, the finest sake, and beautiful music!"

"I am sure she cannot resist your charm, although she had better be the only one you try to charm these days," the servant said warningly, giving him a stern look.

"Of course, Hikaru-san, but—"

He was cut off by a loud shriek. Both women jumped, and he looked sideways at each of them.

"Is something going on?" he asked, his brown eyes shining with curiosity under his sakkat. "I did not sense anyone else in the house. Come to think of it, Akane-san, I did not sense you…"

Akane slowly moved to block the doorway, knowing there was no chance of her being able to stop him if he wished to leave but hoping to at least put up some resistance.

"I think Genryuusai-dono's meeting is not going well."

Akane nodded. God, her sensei had a set of lungs!

Then they all three heard something crash to the floor and shatter. Both women flinched as he stood from his seat at the small kitchen table, his teasing look no longer present. He was all taichou, now, and he looked ready to march into the other room and find out exactly what was going on.

"Kyouraku-taichou, please—" Akane said, hands out in front of her as she tried to persuade him to sit back down, stay in the room, not investigate what he was hearing.

"Perhaps I should look in on sensei, make sure everything is okay," he said, steel in his voice. He very gently put his large hands on Akane's shoulders, scooting her to the side slowly, but she grabbed onto his arm.

"Please, don't interfere—"

"I have to agree with Akane-san, you should just wait until Genryuusai-dono is done—Shunsui-san!"

He was already moving down the hall, though, moving straight to the closed door.

Both women followed, begging him to leave it alone, that he could meet with the man as soon as his meeting was over, but he was persistent. Something had been going on for weeks and he finally had proof that Yama-jii was in on it. It was too good to pass up.

There was also a niggling worry in the back of his mind. Someone was frustrated, perhaps even angry, and they could pose a threat to the sou-taichou. While he had full trust in Yama-jii's abilities and knew the man could protect himself, he would not sit idle while there was a potential threat in the house.

The women stopped following him before he reached the door, obviously reluctant to enter themselves, but that didn't deter him.

He slid the door open, his familiar greeting to his sensei spilling from his lips before his brain registered what his eyes were taking in. There was a woman with his sensei. A very familiar woman. The hair, the eyes, everything about her looked strangely like his dead fuku-taichou.

Minako-chan.

They both looked surprised to see him, although he doubted it could touch the look of surprise on his own face. A dead woman was standing in front of him, obviously not okay—she looked emaciated, was holding herself very stiffly and half of her face was covered in a mottled, purple bruise—but alive.

And then the anger flooded him, turned his sight red with rage.

"I think you have some explaining to do," he said, his voice hard.