2/3

I glanced away. "I only figured out what was going on last night and Oshiro-sensei banned me from the library before that. I didn't have time to look it up."

Unohana's eyes narrowed slightly. "Then let me inform you. A sense of reiatsu is common to souls. Shinigami alone have the ability to focus this sense." She lifted a pale hand, a gauzy red ribbon materializing out of nowhere to wrap around it for an instant before dissolving. "Shinigami with the ability to further focus their sense of reiatsu are uncommon. Your level of 'listening' ability, while too nebulous to truly compare to others', is unprecedented. You belong to a clan that deals in information and its concealment. I'm sure you don't require an explanation as to why an undetectable informant on military officers would be considered undesirable."

Had I said the room was warm? More like arctic-blizzard-cold. I glanced down at bloodless, still hands and gulped. "But... I don't want to be an informant. I'm not even on the Onmitsukidou track!"

Unohana shook her head, glossy black braid swinging like a pendulum with the motion. "You are a teenage girl, not yet finished your second decade, under the authority of a clan that has supplied the second-in-commands of the Patrol Corps for the past six centuries, scarcely begun training as a Shinigami. My unseated officers have more control over their actions than you have of your own." Translation: you don't get a say in any of that.

I laced my fingers together and dragged my eyes up to hers. "Captain Unohana-sama, I think you're overestimating my value to my clan. Shinji's the heir and the captain-to-be." I sighed. The room was getting spinny again. "I had to beg just to go here. They don't think enough of me to press me into that sort of service. And my ability doesn't have combat application anyway. I hear what the Zanpakutou say to their Shinigami, not the other way around. I don't have much range, I can't use it for tracking, and the most it would be is a distraction." I laid the facts out for her one by one. See, I'm not worth much, I thought desperately at her. I'm not even rebellious.

Everything lit up like a Christmas tree. I yelped, shutting my eyes tight against the brightness, but eyelids meant nothing to it. The light seared itself into my brain, brighter and brighter. A thousand people speaking in a thousand voices drowned out Unohana, surging louder and louder until I thought my skull would burst. My throat burned with screams I couldn't hear. Too much too much make it stop go away!

Silence and darkness. I cracked open watering eyes. The room flickered into view, with the addition of a car-sized Komodo dragon crouched behind an impassive Unohana.

And because the universe hated me, oblivion hit me like a ton of bricks for the third time in a row.

The period of time following that might've been a day, or a minute. I experienced it as a stream of moments, voices drifting in and out of hearing. Sometimes they were so sharp my eardrums nearly burst, other times they whispered like Arashi's waves. Images, textures, and smells occasionally made their appearance, but the world was too bright to form distinct shapes, the only textures were the prick of needles and the brush of fingers, and all I could smell was anesthetic. ink, and roast meat.

That last one was me, as it turned out. Kidou seals on the skin, while convenient, were painful, permanent, and insanely complex, needing Kidou to do the job well. Kidou being what it was, a process similar to branding worked the best.

I woke after a millennium and a second, concentrating all my strength into my eyelids to lift their mountainlike weight. The numbing effect of the anesthetic kept me too cold to panic when the only things I saw were a bunch of blurry blobs, but that too was resolved when one of them started making noise.

"Hirako-chan, your eyes should adjust momentarily. The effects of the seals take time to integrate into your system." That was... someone familiar's voice. Scary but polite. Sounded like flowers... Unohana. Who, incidentally, was correct: after a few seconds, the world swam into focus.

I blinked a couple times, marveling at how darkness came and went. My eyes felt heavy in a way that fatigue had nothing to do with. My ears were similar, only they felt like someone had pushed invisible earplugs into them.

"You've caused us a fair amount of trouble, girl," another woman's voice creaked. "The Kidou Corps isn't in the habit of coming out for brats like you." I let my head flop to the side and saw a woman who looked like she'd been carved out of a mountain, face a leathery mass of wrinkles, hair wispy and white, and clad in the ornate robes of the Grand Kidou Chief.

"Thanks," I croaked, throat for all the world a desert. "Kidou Corps Commander. Ma'am."

She sniffed. "Don't call me that. Anyone could lead today's idiots." She eyed me as though I was one of those idiots. "A full two days we've labored over you and the only good that's come out of it is the invention of new seals that'll likely never be approved anyway."

"Now, Xun-san," Unohana chided, "it's important to preserve the younger generation."

Xun waved away the statement. "And why is that? Empty heads, the lot of them, not a speck of knowledge drifting around in there even if they could focus for a second, let alone think for themselves. Mark my words, the second I'm gone the Corps will go downhill."

Good thing I'm not entering them, I thought, but kept my parched mouth shut.

Unohana's smile, evidently, hadn't changed in the two days I'd been out, or possibly ever. "I'm sure that someone will step up to take your place. The Tsukabishi boy looks promising, someday."

Xun waved that away too, turning and walking out of my field of vision. "An orphan fostered by a clan that talks with their fists and thinks with their royal jewels—and I don't mean just their wealth. It'll be a miracle if he doesn't end up with a cloth over his pate. If that's all, Captain, I'll be returning to the Archive, where I can do work that matters."

Unohana inclined her head, but said nothing. Looked like even centuries of practice at etiquette could only go so far for a person like Xun. When Xun was gone, Unohana turned and extended a hand to me. I took it and discovered rather abruptly that trying to sit up on my own wasn't necessary. Healer or no, Unohana was strong.

"If you'll walk around a bit, Hirako-chan," she said, "the movement should start the movement of your reiryoku again. I'm afraid Xun-san and I had to slow its pulse in order to place the seals upon you."

Interesting. So reiryoku had a flow like blood? I stood and began to shuffle around the room obediently. A wave of relief swamped me as I saw Arashi on a generic sword mounting, much like those some teachers mounted their own Zanpakutou on above their desks without the personalization those usually had.

Soon, I thought in the direction of electric potential in watery veils. I'm going to treat you with the respect you deserve.

Excellent pulsed from the sword. I spared a second to be sad about that, simply because having a connection to my Zanpakutou that was so strong I heard her like a corporeal person was cool. But the seals—which I was guessing blocked my abilities—were ultimately the better solution. Much more convenient, and I wouldn't be flagged as a potential traitor by the Gotei because of my abilities. I refused to call them powers, since that implied something that was actually useful.

As I walked in circles, my reiatsu sense sharpened—like listening between radio channels and then switching to a specific channel, the vague signals resolved themselves into information that actually made sense. By the time I'd walked eight or so circles, I felt human again.

"Captain Unohana-sama?" I asked. "What exactly do the seals do?"

Her lips twitched into what might have been a genuine smile. "Curious as your brother, yet more polite. How pleasant. There are many theories I could explain to you about the sort of sealing Xun-san and I used on you, but given your level of schooling I think that would confuse you more than help. The end result is, as I'm sure you've already suspected, that your sensitivity to Zanpakutou is substantially dulled. Not an easy task to perform without removing your sense of reiatsu altogether."

I couldn't help the frown that crossed my face. "So that's it? The nail that sticks up is hammered down?"

Unohana's brows drew together to mirror me. "As I was about to say, you can partially deactivate the seals if the situation requires it. The Captain-Commander would not want to restrict the capabilities of a promising Shinigami, after all. Touch them and apply a small amount of reiryoku and your abilities will be restored. Do so again with the intent of sealing them and the seals will activate. Xun-san was rather adamant that you be able to activate your sight of Zanpakutou spirits and your ability to hear them separately to limit the potential for distraction, so you may do that as well."

I raised my hands to where my skin felt the most raw, tentatively rubbing my ears and the area around my eyes. Ordinary, if tender skin—was there really anything there?

"In the interests of whatever match the Hirako may arrange, I applied a technique my division's members use to minimize scars," Unohana added. "Others may see the markings from certain angles and in certain lights, but the ink we used is white, so they should be unobtrusive."

And that answered that question. I sighed happily, letting my hands fall back to my sides. All fronts clear—classmates, whatever romantic prospects, if any, that would come, and my future coworkers. I couldn't imagine that the stigma of tattoos was entirely nonexistent here. Plus, it would've driven me up the wall to answer a thousand questions about the sudden ink on my skin. I mean, telling people that 'the Kidou Corps Commander and Captain of the Fourth put seals on me to control my quasi-psychic powers' probably would raise even more annoying questions.

I bowed from the waist. "Thank you for your efforts, Captain Unohana-sama. My ears and eyes appreciate them." I shuffled my feet. Abrasive or not, Xun had contributed, but she'd left, so should I...? "If you get a chance, please tell Chief Xun-sama that I extend my gratitude to her as well." One thing I'd learned when dealing with important people: flowery was the way to go.

Unohana nodded. "If I should see Xun-san, I will notify her of your gratitude. Now, if you would please collect your Zanpakutou, one of my unseated officers will escort you back to Shin'ou Academy. It wouldn't do for you to miss further classes."

I was at the door, Arashi thrust through my belt, when Unohana cleared her throat. Gah. Was there something else I needed to know about the superpowers that I was apparently the only one to not value? I half-turned, just in case she wanted to stab me. One could never be sure with an ex-Kenpachi.

"Oh, and Hirako-chan? Please take care not to let your abilities become known. The relevant teachers have been notified in the event that you have complications, but it would be a shame if the Onmitsukidou took an interest in you, wouldn't it?" Unohana's smile was distinctly sharp. "I couldn't predict how much influence I would have if your case came to their notice."

I gulped. Translation: don't use your powers or else. "Y-yes, Captain Unohana-sama."

Returning to Shin'ou was a remarkably boring journey. To my relief, I didn't see anyone important and the unseated officer—a middle-aged man, remaining hair pulled into a tight topknot—didn't stick around after we arrived at Shin'ou or try to talk to me on the way. Business as usual was back.

"And exactly what happened to you?!" Himura demanded, throwing up his hands. "No, wait, don't answer that. I'm sure I don't want to know." His eyes flicked over to Akane, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she tried to pretend she wasn't listening.

Ah. So you were one of the teachers Unohana told. I smiled sheepishly. "I guess I have a talent for getting into trouble?" I laughed, the sound so high and nervous it didn't sound like mine. "At least I'm not banned from the library anymore."

Himura hesitated for a second—actually hesitated, really. I just about dropped dead of shock. After a second, he barked over his shoulder, "Choujuno! You're not needed today. Go back to your magic!"

"Sir!" She called back. Himura waited until she'd gathered up her knives and pins and flounced out before he spoke again, more quietly than I'd ever heard him.

"Sit down, Hirako. Seiza or otherwise, I don't care."

I knelt, folding myself into seiza. Himura didn't do quiet, and in my experience plausible deniability was easiest to maintain with a little formality in place.

"Sir?" I said, twisting my fingers in my obi.

He ignored me, walking to the edge of the room and taking a stance I'd never seen before, more relaxed than his usual. A little like the basic Shifting Moon stance, actually. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. What the actual fuck?

I watched him walk the perimeter in that stance, every movement completely smooth and centered. Better than I could ever hope to be. And stranger. Every movement carried the ghostly flicker of Kidou. Like-

Like Shunkou, I realized. Proto-Shunkou, even. He mentioned using reiryoku to increase endurance... wasn't Shunkou similar?

Not important right now, I decided as I watched him. Half-consciously, my fingertips brushed just above my eyes. What did using Kidou do to a Zanpakutou spirit?

My hands fell into my lap again as he neared the place where he'd started. The incantation Himura had been chanting throughout, barely audible when he'd started, had grown to a kiai-like shout. One final step and the whole place lit up deep orange, sheets of fire rolling over every surface of the dojo. Himura turned, straightening, and the fire vanished, leaving only afterimages when I blinked.

Some time between blinks, he arrived in front of me, mirroring my seiza, albeit a little slower to allow for what I presumed were creaky knees.

"I thought Kidou incantations were in Japanese," I said, trying to redirect the conversation before Himura turned it into An Important Talk. I'd had that before, thank you.

He grunted. "I may be a Himura, but my father's all Korean. He taught me a few nonstandard Kidou before Hueco Mundo got him, scatter their sands." Himura swept a hand across the ground in a gesture I'd seen a thousand times but never quite understood until now. "A fair bit of Ordered Strength Hakuda, too. Makes good training for you."

I nodded, filing that away. It wasn't at all unheard of for men to go live with their wives' clans, or for children to be sent to live with the clan one parent had left if it was decided that they'd fit that clan better, but learning that Himura was half-Korean still surprised me, somehow.

Guess you don't know much about your teachers, a little voice in the back of my mind whispered. I shushed it, shivering. Himura was fine. I was fine. I was fine.

Himura caught it with a frown. "And that's why I wanted to talk to you." He sighed, placing his hands on his knees. "Hirako, I don't know if you realized this, but you killed a man. That-"

The world blurred out. You killed a man. I killed a man. I killed someone. Murderer. Murderermonsterwrong. That's me. I said I wouldn't hurt anyone but-

Breathe! Arashi screamed in my soul. The sky's going dark in here, daoshi. Tunnel vision helps no one!

I breathed, and saw the world blossom back into focus from pinpricks. Oxygen helps, I told myself, reaching for the harsh truth that panic had chased away. Breathe. And stop lying. Remember what you said to Shinju.

"I- I know," I whispered. "I knew I'd have to, eventually, just- not this soon. But he wasn't going to back down. He wasn't," I insisted. "He was a monster; I found him when I stumbled on a girl's body." And I didn't want to think about the hair sticky with blood, the cool skin with a fading pulse beneath. I didn't. But I did anyway. "I had to do it. I- I decided that a long time ago. That I can't be afraid to kill someone who's going to kill me. 'Cause I'm the better choice for staying alive." I offered Himura a shaking smile. "Right?"

He looked at me levelly. "Yeah. You think I want a blade-breaking freak of nature alive with a kid who could be a lieutenant dead? Hell no. It's sure as fuck hard to say, but it was a traitor. You don't leave scum like that alive when you've rooted them out."

I swallowed back bile that rose at hearing my future self described that way. "People call me a traitor," I said, fighting the rasp in my throat as emotion I couldn't afford to show choked me up.

"People are stupid as fuck," Himura said, making a sound that might've been a chuckle. "You just got rid of a monster by your own admission. From what I'm told, it was the closest thing you can be to a Hollow without a hole in your chest. That's pretty damn loyal to me. You're a good kid, Hirako. I'm not gonna make you question whether you did the right thing. You did. You took the only option you had and that monster won't kill any more of our students. Good in anyone's book." He took a deep breath. "I'm talking to you because I've seen good Shinigami whose only chink in the armor was that they couldn't kill. Not without breaking."

I bit a dry lip. "Ounabara-sensei said that any killing for Soul Society was good," I parroted back. Each word tasted like poison. But technically it wasn't a lie. I didn't think that. I couldn't. I was just quoting. "But... you're saying that you can be a good Shinigami and not want to kill."

Himura grunted. "Sure as hell can. No one should want to kill. Being a good Shinigami means knowing that you have to. Don't misunderstand me," he warned. "I'm not saying they were good Shinigami. Just that they were otherwise good people who happened to be Shinigami."

No! I shrieked. No! People aren't good! Not when this is the sort of society they produce! I stared at the planks of the floor. "Don't you ever wonder?" I asked, hoping beyond hope. Please. You have to pardon me. "Is killing for Soul Society is always right?"

Himura gave me a long, hard look. "I used to, when I was your age. Then I grew up and read some history. You think this place was always orderly? Before Central 46 and all that junk, Soul Society was chaos. The clans were at each others' throats. There was more blood than water flowing here. Even after the Gotei got established and the 46 started setting down laws, people fought it. People that were a hell of a lot more like that Zanpakutou thing than me and you. Those laws that you greenhorns call harsh saved us." He glanced down at calloused hands, turning them palm up. "There're always going to be questions in the back of your mind. And you have to tell them to shut up. Because maybe that one guy didn't have to die. Maybe this order didn't have to be followed, or that kid had an excuse for breaking the law. But the system is bigger than you and your conscience. It works because we all follow the law. We do what's right and send people on to the Living World when the balance demands it. And everybody else keeps on living their lives."

The world burned red. I yanked my reiatsu back beneath my skin to keep from exploding at him. You're wrong! screamed every part of me, save for the one part that couldn't decide if it wanted to sob or kill Himura. His reasons made too much sense, even if everything else was jarringly wrong. Even if Soul Society needed so much changing that my mind wanted to collapse imagining the scope of it all.

"I understand," I said, voice far too confident to my ears and words far too honest to my brain. "Thank you."

Himura nodded. "You're promising, Hirako, even if you'd rather study Hakuda styles than practice them. It's a bit early to have this talk, but do you know what division you'll go into? I won't be offended if you don't choose the Fifth," he added when I hesitated.

I laced my fingers together. "The Ninth or Twelfth, I think," I said.

Himura nodded again. "You'd better be prepared for a captain with even more of a stick up his ass than me," he warned. "They've got a tradition of that, the Ninth. Twelfth's more of a mixed bag—purpose changes with every captain. Captain Than Sein's got them doing all kinds of stuff in the Living World these days. If he's still around when you've graduated, might fit you well. Why those?"

I shrugged. "Rukongai needs order like the Ninth brings," I said. "And security sounds like a pretty good problem to put my mind to. The Twelfth?" I shrugged helplessly. "I kinda liked their flower's symbolism?"

This time Himura's laugh sounded slightly less like choking than it had before. "Here I think you've got a brain in your head and then you go and say shit like that." He shook his head.

"You sound like Xun-sama," I said immediately. A little less abrasive, granted, but he did.

"Xun-sama?" Himura frowned, expression clearing as he placed the name. "Oh, the Kidou Corps Commander? Forgot you met her. She's supposed to be somethin', alright." He leaned forward. "Hey, Captain Unohana told me you could see Zanpakutou spirits. Let's see. I won't rat you out."

I swallowed hard. Was this a test of character? Did I say yes or no? "I mean, I said I wouldn't," I began.

Himura shook his head, cutting me off. "I'm serious, brat. I want to see if you're the real deal."

I sighed, but raised my hands to my face anyway. A spark of reiryoku sprang to my fingers and when I opened my eyes again, the world was... less bright than I'd expected, actually. It was like I was seeing everything through dark sunglasses. Except Himura.

He glinted with tiger-orange light, stabbing out into space and flickering over his skin. What was more interesting, though, was the large lion-dog crouched beside him, curly red-gold fur rippling like fire caught in a draft. I tapped my right fist to the opposite palm in a student-to-teacher bow, just in case he could affect me. As my efforts to not get noticed by the universe had failed, I decided not to chance it.

"A lion-dog," I said. "Dark reddish-gold." A description from a story-book flickered back into my mind, and I grinned. "Komainu, I think the right word is."

Himura nodded. "Put- put the seal back, Hirako," he ordered, oddly vehement for a simple request.

A brush of my fingers over my eyes again and the world wobbled back to its normal appearance. "What?" I asked.

Himura shifted uncomfortably. "Not your eyes I saw just now," he said. "Not a great deal different, just- unnerving to see them change. What color were they as a kid?"

I shrugged. "Brown like anyone else's, I bet. They were different?"

"Not one color or the next," he said. "Bit of green, blue, brown, grey."

Ah. That was much more comforting to hear than some unnatural color. I'd been hoping to avoid purple. Hazel was my normal eye color, actually, but no pair was alike. Mine usually leaned towards brown. "The word you're looking for is hazel," I replied. "Point is, was I right?"

He nodded. "Yeah, right on. Damn good javelin when he's released."

Melee-type, most likely. Or knowing how underhanded Himura was, something that looked like melee but exploded when he threw it.

"And you have one of your own," Himura said, nodding over at Arashi on her rack by the door. Poor thing looked like it'd held so many Zanpakutou that it would collapse the next time someone set their sword there. "Techniques?"

I shook my head, giving him the Cheshire Cat grin my family did so well. "I wouldn't tell you even if I had some," I replied. "That's just stupid."

He frowned. "Zanpakutou give a technique at the beginning of training—otherwise it wouldn't be training. You have to have one."

I shrugged, seeing an opportunity to put my silly facade into action. "Not me, I guess!" I chirped, smiling sheepishly. "Actually, we were kinda so focused on not dying that she said I'd have to earn her later."

Himura sighed, massaging his temples. "Then get over to the registration building, you idiot girl! They'll have somewhere you can learn! Lesson over!"

I sighed back. "Fine, fine. I'll get to that after I check in with Shinji. He's probably going nuts."

"As long as you get around to it at all," Himura said, getting to his feet. I followed his lead, wincing at the prickle of feet about to fall asleep. "I wanna be able to point to an official document and say one of my students had the record for the earliest Zanpakutou ever."

I blushed, traipsing over to my bundle of stuff and collecting it. As I thrust Arashi through my obi and stepped out the door, I called back, "I'm no one's trophy, sensei!"

His laugh followed me all the way down the hall.

"Nariko!"

"Nari-nee!"

"Hirako-chan!

"Nariko-san!"

I got the last one twice, actually, once from Aizen and once from Minoru. At least, I thought it was Minoru. Couldn't quite tell while being squished between Shinju and Shinji.

"Gak! Air!" I squeaked when I could catch a breath that didn't smell like sandalwood or teenage boy. "Kinda need that!"

They stepped away, leaving me to gasp dramatically while I tried to compose responses to the inevitable questions.

"So what's this I hear about ya gettin' Shikai and upstagin' me?" Shinji demanded. Ah, yes, there was the bluntness of the Hirako men I'd missed. Somehow. "Lemme see!"

I drew Arashi from her sheath obediently, holding her in a standard kendo pose. "Thoughts?" I said.

All my friends crowded around this time, peering at my sword.

"Not long enough for a katana or short enough for a wakizashi," Aizen observed, tilting his head birdlike at me. "I thought it was a pair of tessen, not a chiisgatana."