The Noble Sort
folder
Bleach › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
43
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4,582
Reviews:
8
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0
Currently Reading:
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Category:
Bleach › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
43
Views:
4,582
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Bleach or make any money off of this story. All rights belong to Tite Kubo.
Chapter 3
A/N: I'm not going to keep repeating all the earlier information. Everything pertinent was included in the Prologue and Chapter 1.
Enjoy!
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"The Noble Sort"
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Six Days Later
Minako looked around the crowded street in front of Umeboshi. She didn't see anyone that stood out, no white hair or very tall Spanish-looking guys, but that didn't mean they weren't there. She wished she could remember what Kuchiki looked like, but he had been young and not someone she knew.
The Yamamoto clan, while powerful, was not part of the nobility. They didn't pretend to be, and the noble clans didn't pretend to take notice of them unless they needed a marriage that gave them power. But there were only three Yamamoto left and none appropriate for marriage when she left, therefore the invitations had been few and far between.
She hadn't let her guard down since she had heard they were in town, but it didn't matter. They were taichou, after all. They could be on her before she even knew it. And she—in her gigai—was at a distinct disadvantage, not being able to use the skills she was once so proud of.
She had briefly considered calling in to work, just staying home and riding it out, but she wasn't going to let them disrupt her life. Plus, she had bills to pay; the house might have been paid off but living in the city meant an apartment and she had to pay for it somehow. She needed the job. It sucked, but money was money and the smaller places didn't ask inconvenient questions.
It had really sucked this week. Her normal paranoia had skyrocketed with the news that there were taichou looking for her. Everyone in black was suspect for the first two days and she had spilled at least three drinks on customers due to her jumpy behavior.
Her boss had taken her to task for it, something she didn't really care about.
She was too busy thinking about more important things than the guy with sake on his crotch.
Why now kept running through her head. Sure, there was the Aizen thing—bastard—but that didn't really seem to add up. If oji-san was worried that he would need a defected shinigami for the battle, he was in more trouble than she could possibly pull him out of.
And he had never come after her before. That first month or so, of course, had been full of patrols trying to find her, or her body, or some sign of what had happened. When there was nothing, they assumed she had defected and stopped searching.
The day she realized—
She couldn't describe the confusion of emotion.
It was happiness, sadness, heartbreak, elation, everything rolled together. She was ecstatic that they wouldn't know what was going on, but it broke her heart that they didn't even care to know why. It was like being forgotten after death, most likely—there was no use for their remembrance of you but the idea that someone was missing you had to be comforting.
By then she knew that she wasn't pregnant, as there was no extra little bump on her tummy. But the strange reiatsu was still present, and Urahara had been hard at work trying to figure out what the hell had gone on. And Yoruichi had been there with her through every step of it, thank the Kami. It took quite a bit of time to get over everything. She was never truly alone, ever.
Then she had been introduced to the others, people she had known but thought dead, and she knew she could be content here. So she stayed, and made a life for herself. Speaking of…
She was supposed to head to Shinji's after work, but not only did she not feel like it, she was too afraid to go near anyone that could possibly lead them to her. She didn't think Shinji and his group had let the majority of the shinigami know about their existence—other than the one ningen—if he could really be called that from what she had heard about him—and some of his friends—but she wasn't taking any chances.
After all, it would only take them following Urahara one time and then she and Shinji's group were all screwed. It was better to stay away, for everyone concerned.
Lisa knew where she lived. She could pop in anytime. She had no wish to see any other Visored on a regular basis, not even Shinji. A little Shinji went a long way nowadays.
The trip home was quick, thankfully, although she was continually looking over her shoulder and down the alleys to see if any of her stalkers were near.
But her plan of going straight to bed after a shower was shot down when she recognized a fairly nasty odor in her apartment. Either Ruri or Kiri had thrown up a hairball.
Why cats?
It was a recurring lamentation in her now-dull life. One her sword spirit loved to repeat.
It took a few minutes, but she eventually found it; clean up was a cinch.
She made sure they had food and water, took a long, hot shower, and curled up in her very large bed. The sheets were soft and cool, her pillow fluffy, and it felt divine. After the week she'd had, she deserved it.
Across the large town of Karakura, three men were having very different thoughts.
They had indeed been staying near Urahara, but only just. They weren't following him, and they really weren't suspicious of him.
Of course, they all knew that he had more information than he let on, but there was no way to force him to give any of it up. The only thing he had told them was that she worked in a restaurant and she looked almost exactly like she did when she left. It really wasn't a lot to go on, they knew. No one had expected anything more.
But they had been here six days already and had nothing. Byakuya had gone back for a few hours three days ago, giving the sou-taichou an update. While the straight-laced taichou had hated the subterfuge, he just gave the basic information they had gotten and left Isane out of it. They would leave that all to Unohana.
They were, at present, sitting on the porch of Urahara's shop, quiet and lost in their own thoughts.
Byakuya was ruminating on the assignment, not the least bit interested in anything past getting the woman to return to Seireitei.
Juushirou was worrying about Kyouraku, who seemed to be taking everything badly at this point. He couldn't blame his friend, really. If it had been his fuku-taichou—well, he would be the same. It was hard enough when he thought he had lost his second fuku-taichou so soon, and to something as stupid as betrayal of the Gōtei 13. Knowing he had lost his subordinate to something he had not been able to protect her from seemed to be eating at the man.
Juushirou could remember Minako quite well, and it hurt even him that such a thing had happened to the woman. She had always been sweet and polite, if a bit too playful. It was to be expected with Kyouraku as her taichou.
When she had been a girl, she had idolized them. They were the famed students of her Gen-oji-san, and she always had a smile or treat for them. He well remembered the many evenings she had sat on a porch similar to this, watching as Genryuusai-sensei beat them over and over in sparring matches. By that point they were already fully shinigami, but they were always "his students" to the young girl.
Momo-chan. That was what Genryuusai-sensei had always called her. He remembered she hated the nickname.
He had mental pictures of Genryuusai-sensei and the small girl, his brother's very young child. She was scowling at her beloved uncle as he ruffled her hair and presented her with a new doll, a small replica of a female shinigami. Or she was looking at him in awe as he motioned her out to the training area behind his family home and showed her how to properly execute a kata they had been working on. Or, on one occasion, when she was older, she was being dragged forcibly through the Seireitei by her uncle due to something she had done, the idea most likely taken from her taichou, who had always been right behind her—or in front of her—in her antics. She was as bad as he was, if not worse.
And Kyouraku was thinking about exactly what Ukitake had presumed. He had been in a black mood—well, black for him—since they had left the Fourth Division. He had, at first, blamed himself. But once the irrational blame had passed, the anger had built. He was angry that she had not come to him; he would have helped her.
He was angry at Yama-jii for not protecting her or listening to her. He was angry at himself for not pushing her when he realized how upset she had been.
There were a thousand what-ifs running through his mind.
Mostly, though, he was angry at whoever had dared touch one of his subordinates, especially in such a manner. Shunsui would be the first to admit he had a, well, reputation for being perverted. And a womanizer. But certain things weren't acceptable under any circumstances, and forcing a woman was just plain unacceptable.
That they would dare to touch one of his, that just set him to boiling. It had been hard enough losing Lisa-chan, but at least once he knew she was alive he also had a good idea that she would be safer in the human realm. In the Seireitei, all that had awaited her was death. So he had allowed everything to happen just the way it did, not interfering at all.
But Minako-chan? The fact that someone would attack her in such a way—obviously not fearing his or Yama-jii's potential retaliation—it floored him.
Nevermind Minako's own retaliation if she had found out who it was. He would have been right there with her, holding the guy down as she stabbed him.
She was a Yamamoto, and their tempers were always a force to be reckoned with. No one had ever doubted that.
He left his eyes flutter closed briefly, composing himself.
He had questions, and to get the answers, he had to track down Minako-chan. He needed to focus on that.
All three men stiffened when a figure stepped out of the shadows across the road; hands flexed, itching to go for zanpakutou. But none moved; they were not in gigai, so most likely the person could not see them. If it was just a random human the person would continue on their way soon having never seen them.
Except he stepped surely across the road, purposefully coming to a stop about fifteen feet in front of them.
The light from inside the shop was glaring on the tan hood the figure wore, but it was dark enough that they couldn't make out his or her face.
"Taichou-san," the strange greeted politely. "Hajimemashite."
They were silent.
The stranger cleared his throat—it was definitely a he—and waited impatiently.
"Who are you," Byakuya asked, his voice as calm as ever. But Kyouraku noticed his hand had drifted to his zanpakutou. The fact that the stranger knew they were shinigami, and taichou, had obviously put him on his guard.
"I am—let's just say we have a mutual acquaintance." The stranger's glittering eyes flicked to the building behind them before once again resting on the three before him.
The three taichou immediately knew they were speaking with a shinigami—former shinigami—and felt the tension in the air rise. This was one of the many exiles they were supposed to arrest on site, but none moved to do so as they were too intensely focused on his words.
"Indeed."
"I believe we have, ah… another mutual acquaintance." He stopped, looking directly at Kyouraku long enough to make sure everyone knew he was speaking to the taichou of the Eighth division specifically. "Someone you are eager to meet with."
His words got their attention, though; all three sat up straighter.
"Yamamoto Minako, yes?"
Kyouraku and Ukitake both nodded, suspicious but not willing to turn away any information at this point, no matter who it came from.
"I know where you can find her."
Kyouraku raised his head, allowing the stranger to finally see the face underneath the sakkat.
"Aa. And why would you give us this information, eh?" Kyouraku asked, still highly suspicious of the person in front of him.
"Perhaps some of us feel the entire story needs to be known. There is more behind her disappearance than you can possibly imagine." He stopped, kicking at a rock with his shoe. "It might even be very important in the big battle you're getting ready to fight."
Variations of intent passed across all three taichou's faces. It was obvious Kuchiki felt like fighting now and asking questions later, while the other two were too focused on the information they had been looking for all week to even think about battling the exile.
"Perhaps not. Perhaps I just think that she should be allowed to return. Perhaps I think she has always wanted to return. And the only way that will ever happen is if you drag her back there."
"So, how can we find her, then?" Kyouraku asked, eyes gleaming.
"Have you ever heard of Umeboshi?" The stranger's straight white teeth, almost unnatural and definitely tugging at Ukitake and Kyouraku's memories, gleamed in the light. "The service is shit, but the food is definitely worth it."
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Two Days Later
It had, once again, been a horrible day.
Minako wondered to herself for the thousandth time why she hadn't quit yet, found a job somewhere else, but let it go. It was most likely all the stress getting to her.
Of course, the situation was improving. Her paranoia was starting to subside as the amount of time she lived knowing they were here but not here, in her general vicinity, increased.
She had now been 'taichou-free' for almost 8 days, though, so she was feeling a little better.
It was somewhat amazing to her as well. Surely they should have found her by now. Even with the special gigai—thank you, Urahara!—they should have been able to find her.
Unless they weren't really trying, which was a definite possibility. She imagined that being tasked with bringing back the sou-taichou's errant niece was not a glorious assignment for any taichou. Much less three of them; it was insulting to them and overestimating her own power.
Of course, they had no idea of the myriad ways they could have very easily found her in the human world, where finding someone was a multi-billion dollar business. The internet. Private eyes. Tax records, not that she paid them regularly. Even census records would have given them some head start. But they wouldn't have had any idea where to begin researching in the human world, which was a definite plus for her.
Thank the Kami they don't know what a phone book is, she thought.
It would be only too easy to find Yamamoto Momo in there, although they would never even think of checking it. They had probably never even heard of it. And they would have had to remember her nickname, although she didn't put it past either of oji-san's students.
In the end, though, their inexperience here was all the better for her.
She allowed her hands to fall away from her face and land palm down on the counter, her exasperation plain. She turned to the smaller woman a few feet away and cleared her throat.
"Keiko, I think I'm going to head home now."
"Sure, Minako. We're not busy; I don't think we'll need you this afternoon. Sorry about that—I really thought, with the festival and everything, that we would need the extra help."
She took off her apron, folding it into a perfect square before stashing it under the counter that separated the customer area from the employee area.
"It's no problem! Honestly, I could use the hours but I need the sleep. I think I'm becoming an insomniac!"
Both girls laughed.
"I totally understand! Just don't forget to call in the next two days—hopefully I can get the schedule finished for next week."
She nodded and exited the small restaurant to the chorus of "Sayonara" from Keiko and the other waitress, Yumi.
She did a cursory sweep of the road in front of and behind her, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. The plaza up ahead, not even a block away, was what really worried her. It was the perfect place for someone to catch her unawares.
She just tightened her jacket around her shoulders and got going. There was no sense in standing there and trying to check each and every face in the crowd. If they were hiding there she wouldn't know it, and hopefully they wouldn't be able to find her once she slipped in amongst the throng of people.
She was right; no one stopped her in or outside of the plaza, and she made it all the way home quite easily.
As soon as she stepped through her front door she checked her messages; she never took her cell phone to work, preferring to leave it at home. It was silly, she knew, but it stopped the temptation to answer it when someone called.
Ruri and Kiri were nowhere to be seen—the ingrates—but she did have a message from Hiyori, something about training together this weekend.
Like hell. She liked her ribs where they were. Last time she was sure the girl had moved three of them. The small woman had been extremely pissed at the entirety of 'shinigami-dom' for something and took it out on her favorite representation of everything shinigami: herself. Most likely the situation was the same.
Plus, she was way too tired.
She could hear Shinji in the background, no doubt taunting the woman, and she laughed. They were the craziest pair she had ever met.
There was another message from her landlord, saying he was finally going to fix the elevator in the building and he was letting all tenants know there would be a crew in on Thursday and Friday.
"Yeah, we'll see how that goes," she muttered. "We've been complaining about it for weeks now. Climbing those stairs has worked muscles I didn't know I had."
The final message was from Mori, her own serving of his anger when he found out how long she and Rin had been on the phone. He always bitched about the bill after they talked, although she knew it was more a front than anything. He had never stopped them from their long talks, even when the long-distance call would be expensive.
He also entreated her to leave Japan as soon as possible, even going so far as to echo Rin's invitation to stay with them in the States. It was a little amazing, but desperate times and all that.
They were the only ones, besides Lisa and her own 'children' on the network, that she continued to talk to regularly. They were too important to cut out of her life.
She double checked that she had locked the door, as if it would do her any good if three shinigami came knocking, and then moved from the living room into the kitchen. She was not even a foot out of the living room when she felt a tremendous flare of reiatsu.
The world narrowed, as did her vision. She could see someone coming down the hall—she didn't recognize him at all—and she could see Ukitake-taichou seated at her small kitchen table, unfortunately not visible from her front door.
Her breathing sped up with her heartbeat, and a thousand different scenarios, many featuring escape, ran through her head.
She knew it wouldn't work. She couldn't hope to outrun three taichou; even with her spiritual pressure hidden and making tracking her exceptionally hard, there was no way she would even make it to the door.
Her zanpakutou was down the hall in her bedroom, no longer a constant companion in a world where swords meant you got arrested, and the dark-haired taichou was blocking her access. Although, even with Hidaruma, she was probably still toast.
Kuchiki-taichou. That's right. At least now I have a face for the name.
Ukitake-taichou was smiling.
She had to have entered an alternate reality of some sort when she entered the kitchen. Perhaps a different dimension? One of those overlap things the physicists were always theorizing about on the public access shows?
She felt a flare of reiatsu once again, this time double what had been present earlier, and all thought fled in the face of terror—she was going to rot in an underground prison cell, she just knew it, even if Ukitake-taichou was smiling.
Maybe he was smiling about her finally getting "locked up?"
But awareness was pressing down on her wandering thoughts—that's what terror does, Minako, makes your mind wander—and she snapped fully back into reality.
That reiatsu.
Oh, shit.
She didn't even need to turn around, although she wondered how he had gotten behind her; she would recognize that reiatsu anywhere.
Kyouraku-taichou had found her.
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A/N: The Japanese Vocabulary lesson for the chapter:
Kami is god(s)
Umeboshi is a plum treat, good name for a restaurant
Hajimemashite is "nice to meet you" or similar
Momo-chan means "little peach"
Sayonara is "bye"
Sakkat is the hat Kyouraku wears, just in case I haven't explained that one yet
As always, if there are any questions feel free to ask me. I have no problems answering them.
Enjoy!
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"The Noble Sort"
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Six Days Later
Minako looked around the crowded street in front of Umeboshi. She didn't see anyone that stood out, no white hair or very tall Spanish-looking guys, but that didn't mean they weren't there. She wished she could remember what Kuchiki looked like, but he had been young and not someone she knew.
The Yamamoto clan, while powerful, was not part of the nobility. They didn't pretend to be, and the noble clans didn't pretend to take notice of them unless they needed a marriage that gave them power. But there were only three Yamamoto left and none appropriate for marriage when she left, therefore the invitations had been few and far between.
She hadn't let her guard down since she had heard they were in town, but it didn't matter. They were taichou, after all. They could be on her before she even knew it. And she—in her gigai—was at a distinct disadvantage, not being able to use the skills she was once so proud of.
She had briefly considered calling in to work, just staying home and riding it out, but she wasn't going to let them disrupt her life. Plus, she had bills to pay; the house might have been paid off but living in the city meant an apartment and she had to pay for it somehow. She needed the job. It sucked, but money was money and the smaller places didn't ask inconvenient questions.
It had really sucked this week. Her normal paranoia had skyrocketed with the news that there were taichou looking for her. Everyone in black was suspect for the first two days and she had spilled at least three drinks on customers due to her jumpy behavior.
Her boss had taken her to task for it, something she didn't really care about.
She was too busy thinking about more important things than the guy with sake on his crotch.
Why now kept running through her head. Sure, there was the Aizen thing—bastard—but that didn't really seem to add up. If oji-san was worried that he would need a defected shinigami for the battle, he was in more trouble than she could possibly pull him out of.
And he had never come after her before. That first month or so, of course, had been full of patrols trying to find her, or her body, or some sign of what had happened. When there was nothing, they assumed she had defected and stopped searching.
The day she realized—
She couldn't describe the confusion of emotion.
It was happiness, sadness, heartbreak, elation, everything rolled together. She was ecstatic that they wouldn't know what was going on, but it broke her heart that they didn't even care to know why. It was like being forgotten after death, most likely—there was no use for their remembrance of you but the idea that someone was missing you had to be comforting.
By then she knew that she wasn't pregnant, as there was no extra little bump on her tummy. But the strange reiatsu was still present, and Urahara had been hard at work trying to figure out what the hell had gone on. And Yoruichi had been there with her through every step of it, thank the Kami. It took quite a bit of time to get over everything. She was never truly alone, ever.
Then she had been introduced to the others, people she had known but thought dead, and she knew she could be content here. So she stayed, and made a life for herself. Speaking of…
She was supposed to head to Shinji's after work, but not only did she not feel like it, she was too afraid to go near anyone that could possibly lead them to her. She didn't think Shinji and his group had let the majority of the shinigami know about their existence—other than the one ningen—if he could really be called that from what she had heard about him—and some of his friends—but she wasn't taking any chances.
After all, it would only take them following Urahara one time and then she and Shinji's group were all screwed. It was better to stay away, for everyone concerned.
Lisa knew where she lived. She could pop in anytime. She had no wish to see any other Visored on a regular basis, not even Shinji. A little Shinji went a long way nowadays.
The trip home was quick, thankfully, although she was continually looking over her shoulder and down the alleys to see if any of her stalkers were near.
But her plan of going straight to bed after a shower was shot down when she recognized a fairly nasty odor in her apartment. Either Ruri or Kiri had thrown up a hairball.
Why cats?
It was a recurring lamentation in her now-dull life. One her sword spirit loved to repeat.
It took a few minutes, but she eventually found it; clean up was a cinch.
She made sure they had food and water, took a long, hot shower, and curled up in her very large bed. The sheets were soft and cool, her pillow fluffy, and it felt divine. After the week she'd had, she deserved it.
Across the large town of Karakura, three men were having very different thoughts.
They had indeed been staying near Urahara, but only just. They weren't following him, and they really weren't suspicious of him.
Of course, they all knew that he had more information than he let on, but there was no way to force him to give any of it up. The only thing he had told them was that she worked in a restaurant and she looked almost exactly like she did when she left. It really wasn't a lot to go on, they knew. No one had expected anything more.
But they had been here six days already and had nothing. Byakuya had gone back for a few hours three days ago, giving the sou-taichou an update. While the straight-laced taichou had hated the subterfuge, he just gave the basic information they had gotten and left Isane out of it. They would leave that all to Unohana.
They were, at present, sitting on the porch of Urahara's shop, quiet and lost in their own thoughts.
Byakuya was ruminating on the assignment, not the least bit interested in anything past getting the woman to return to Seireitei.
Juushirou was worrying about Kyouraku, who seemed to be taking everything badly at this point. He couldn't blame his friend, really. If it had been his fuku-taichou—well, he would be the same. It was hard enough when he thought he had lost his second fuku-taichou so soon, and to something as stupid as betrayal of the Gōtei 13. Knowing he had lost his subordinate to something he had not been able to protect her from seemed to be eating at the man.
Juushirou could remember Minako quite well, and it hurt even him that such a thing had happened to the woman. She had always been sweet and polite, if a bit too playful. It was to be expected with Kyouraku as her taichou.
When she had been a girl, she had idolized them. They were the famed students of her Gen-oji-san, and she always had a smile or treat for them. He well remembered the many evenings she had sat on a porch similar to this, watching as Genryuusai-sensei beat them over and over in sparring matches. By that point they were already fully shinigami, but they were always "his students" to the young girl.
Momo-chan. That was what Genryuusai-sensei had always called her. He remembered she hated the nickname.
He had mental pictures of Genryuusai-sensei and the small girl, his brother's very young child. She was scowling at her beloved uncle as he ruffled her hair and presented her with a new doll, a small replica of a female shinigami. Or she was looking at him in awe as he motioned her out to the training area behind his family home and showed her how to properly execute a kata they had been working on. Or, on one occasion, when she was older, she was being dragged forcibly through the Seireitei by her uncle due to something she had done, the idea most likely taken from her taichou, who had always been right behind her—or in front of her—in her antics. She was as bad as he was, if not worse.
And Kyouraku was thinking about exactly what Ukitake had presumed. He had been in a black mood—well, black for him—since they had left the Fourth Division. He had, at first, blamed himself. But once the irrational blame had passed, the anger had built. He was angry that she had not come to him; he would have helped her.
He was angry at Yama-jii for not protecting her or listening to her. He was angry at himself for not pushing her when he realized how upset she had been.
There were a thousand what-ifs running through his mind.
Mostly, though, he was angry at whoever had dared touch one of his subordinates, especially in such a manner. Shunsui would be the first to admit he had a, well, reputation for being perverted. And a womanizer. But certain things weren't acceptable under any circumstances, and forcing a woman was just plain unacceptable.
That they would dare to touch one of his, that just set him to boiling. It had been hard enough losing Lisa-chan, but at least once he knew she was alive he also had a good idea that she would be safer in the human realm. In the Seireitei, all that had awaited her was death. So he had allowed everything to happen just the way it did, not interfering at all.
But Minako-chan? The fact that someone would attack her in such a way—obviously not fearing his or Yama-jii's potential retaliation—it floored him.
Nevermind Minako's own retaliation if she had found out who it was. He would have been right there with her, holding the guy down as she stabbed him.
She was a Yamamoto, and their tempers were always a force to be reckoned with. No one had ever doubted that.
He left his eyes flutter closed briefly, composing himself.
He had questions, and to get the answers, he had to track down Minako-chan. He needed to focus on that.
All three men stiffened when a figure stepped out of the shadows across the road; hands flexed, itching to go for zanpakutou. But none moved; they were not in gigai, so most likely the person could not see them. If it was just a random human the person would continue on their way soon having never seen them.
Except he stepped surely across the road, purposefully coming to a stop about fifteen feet in front of them.
The light from inside the shop was glaring on the tan hood the figure wore, but it was dark enough that they couldn't make out his or her face.
"Taichou-san," the strange greeted politely. "Hajimemashite."
They were silent.
The stranger cleared his throat—it was definitely a he—and waited impatiently.
"Who are you," Byakuya asked, his voice as calm as ever. But Kyouraku noticed his hand had drifted to his zanpakutou. The fact that the stranger knew they were shinigami, and taichou, had obviously put him on his guard.
"I am—let's just say we have a mutual acquaintance." The stranger's glittering eyes flicked to the building behind them before once again resting on the three before him.
The three taichou immediately knew they were speaking with a shinigami—former shinigami—and felt the tension in the air rise. This was one of the many exiles they were supposed to arrest on site, but none moved to do so as they were too intensely focused on his words.
"Indeed."
"I believe we have, ah… another mutual acquaintance." He stopped, looking directly at Kyouraku long enough to make sure everyone knew he was speaking to the taichou of the Eighth division specifically. "Someone you are eager to meet with."
His words got their attention, though; all three sat up straighter.
"Yamamoto Minako, yes?"
Kyouraku and Ukitake both nodded, suspicious but not willing to turn away any information at this point, no matter who it came from.
"I know where you can find her."
Kyouraku raised his head, allowing the stranger to finally see the face underneath the sakkat.
"Aa. And why would you give us this information, eh?" Kyouraku asked, still highly suspicious of the person in front of him.
"Perhaps some of us feel the entire story needs to be known. There is more behind her disappearance than you can possibly imagine." He stopped, kicking at a rock with his shoe. "It might even be very important in the big battle you're getting ready to fight."
Variations of intent passed across all three taichou's faces. It was obvious Kuchiki felt like fighting now and asking questions later, while the other two were too focused on the information they had been looking for all week to even think about battling the exile.
"Perhaps not. Perhaps I just think that she should be allowed to return. Perhaps I think she has always wanted to return. And the only way that will ever happen is if you drag her back there."
"So, how can we find her, then?" Kyouraku asked, eyes gleaming.
"Have you ever heard of Umeboshi?" The stranger's straight white teeth, almost unnatural and definitely tugging at Ukitake and Kyouraku's memories, gleamed in the light. "The service is shit, but the food is definitely worth it."
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Two Days Later
It had, once again, been a horrible day.
Minako wondered to herself for the thousandth time why she hadn't quit yet, found a job somewhere else, but let it go. It was most likely all the stress getting to her.
Of course, the situation was improving. Her paranoia was starting to subside as the amount of time she lived knowing they were here but not here, in her general vicinity, increased.
She had now been 'taichou-free' for almost 8 days, though, so she was feeling a little better.
It was somewhat amazing to her as well. Surely they should have found her by now. Even with the special gigai—thank you, Urahara!—they should have been able to find her.
Unless they weren't really trying, which was a definite possibility. She imagined that being tasked with bringing back the sou-taichou's errant niece was not a glorious assignment for any taichou. Much less three of them; it was insulting to them and overestimating her own power.
Of course, they had no idea of the myriad ways they could have very easily found her in the human world, where finding someone was a multi-billion dollar business. The internet. Private eyes. Tax records, not that she paid them regularly. Even census records would have given them some head start. But they wouldn't have had any idea where to begin researching in the human world, which was a definite plus for her.
Thank the Kami they don't know what a phone book is, she thought.
It would be only too easy to find Yamamoto Momo in there, although they would never even think of checking it. They had probably never even heard of it. And they would have had to remember her nickname, although she didn't put it past either of oji-san's students.
In the end, though, their inexperience here was all the better for her.
She allowed her hands to fall away from her face and land palm down on the counter, her exasperation plain. She turned to the smaller woman a few feet away and cleared her throat.
"Keiko, I think I'm going to head home now."
"Sure, Minako. We're not busy; I don't think we'll need you this afternoon. Sorry about that—I really thought, with the festival and everything, that we would need the extra help."
She took off her apron, folding it into a perfect square before stashing it under the counter that separated the customer area from the employee area.
"It's no problem! Honestly, I could use the hours but I need the sleep. I think I'm becoming an insomniac!"
Both girls laughed.
"I totally understand! Just don't forget to call in the next two days—hopefully I can get the schedule finished for next week."
She nodded and exited the small restaurant to the chorus of "Sayonara" from Keiko and the other waitress, Yumi.
She did a cursory sweep of the road in front of and behind her, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. The plaza up ahead, not even a block away, was what really worried her. It was the perfect place for someone to catch her unawares.
She just tightened her jacket around her shoulders and got going. There was no sense in standing there and trying to check each and every face in the crowd. If they were hiding there she wouldn't know it, and hopefully they wouldn't be able to find her once she slipped in amongst the throng of people.
She was right; no one stopped her in or outside of the plaza, and she made it all the way home quite easily.
As soon as she stepped through her front door she checked her messages; she never took her cell phone to work, preferring to leave it at home. It was silly, she knew, but it stopped the temptation to answer it when someone called.
Ruri and Kiri were nowhere to be seen—the ingrates—but she did have a message from Hiyori, something about training together this weekend.
Like hell. She liked her ribs where they were. Last time she was sure the girl had moved three of them. The small woman had been extremely pissed at the entirety of 'shinigami-dom' for something and took it out on her favorite representation of everything shinigami: herself. Most likely the situation was the same.
Plus, she was way too tired.
She could hear Shinji in the background, no doubt taunting the woman, and she laughed. They were the craziest pair she had ever met.
There was another message from her landlord, saying he was finally going to fix the elevator in the building and he was letting all tenants know there would be a crew in on Thursday and Friday.
"Yeah, we'll see how that goes," she muttered. "We've been complaining about it for weeks now. Climbing those stairs has worked muscles I didn't know I had."
The final message was from Mori, her own serving of his anger when he found out how long she and Rin had been on the phone. He always bitched about the bill after they talked, although she knew it was more a front than anything. He had never stopped them from their long talks, even when the long-distance call would be expensive.
He also entreated her to leave Japan as soon as possible, even going so far as to echo Rin's invitation to stay with them in the States. It was a little amazing, but desperate times and all that.
They were the only ones, besides Lisa and her own 'children' on the network, that she continued to talk to regularly. They were too important to cut out of her life.
She double checked that she had locked the door, as if it would do her any good if three shinigami came knocking, and then moved from the living room into the kitchen. She was not even a foot out of the living room when she felt a tremendous flare of reiatsu.
The world narrowed, as did her vision. She could see someone coming down the hall—she didn't recognize him at all—and she could see Ukitake-taichou seated at her small kitchen table, unfortunately not visible from her front door.
Her breathing sped up with her heartbeat, and a thousand different scenarios, many featuring escape, ran through her head.
She knew it wouldn't work. She couldn't hope to outrun three taichou; even with her spiritual pressure hidden and making tracking her exceptionally hard, there was no way she would even make it to the door.
Her zanpakutou was down the hall in her bedroom, no longer a constant companion in a world where swords meant you got arrested, and the dark-haired taichou was blocking her access. Although, even with Hidaruma, she was probably still toast.
Kuchiki-taichou. That's right. At least now I have a face for the name.
Ukitake-taichou was smiling.
She had to have entered an alternate reality of some sort when she entered the kitchen. Perhaps a different dimension? One of those overlap things the physicists were always theorizing about on the public access shows?
She felt a flare of reiatsu once again, this time double what had been present earlier, and all thought fled in the face of terror—she was going to rot in an underground prison cell, she just knew it, even if Ukitake-taichou was smiling.
Maybe he was smiling about her finally getting "locked up?"
But awareness was pressing down on her wandering thoughts—that's what terror does, Minako, makes your mind wander—and she snapped fully back into reality.
That reiatsu.
Oh, shit.
She didn't even need to turn around, although she wondered how he had gotten behind her; she would recognize that reiatsu anywhere.
Kyouraku-taichou had found her.
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A/N: The Japanese Vocabulary lesson for the chapter:
Kami is god(s)
Umeboshi is a plum treat, good name for a restaurant
Hajimemashite is "nice to meet you" or similar
Momo-chan means "little peach"
Sayonara is "bye"
Sakkat is the hat Kyouraku wears, just in case I haven't explained that one yet
As always, if there are any questions feel free to ask me. I have no problems answering them.