Chapter 72: In Need of Aid

"Wait!"

*fwom*

After a deafening shout, Furōfushi's eyes broke open. Droplets of cold sweat sat on her forehead. Both pigtails were undone, allowing her extensive hair to heat the damp nape of her neck. Anxiety-driven instincts compelled her arms to thrash. Warm fabric was wrenched in her clutched fists. Hyōteifujo's absence troubled the gasping woman. 

In front of her was an assembly of wooden slats. The recognizable patterns puzzled Furoufushi. Well acquainted with the sight, she matched the cracks and consistency with her memories. 

It was her bedroom ceiling.

Elbows braced against the fluffy cushion, Furoufushi demanded her aching abdominal muscles to contract. After a few seconds of shuddering struggle, the pink-haired girl sat up in bed. 

Her black hanten was soaked in her perspiration. Tremors continued to upset her hands. Shallow breaths did little to alleviate her thumping heart. Once she'd regained control, her back slumped in release.

The nightmare was over.

Recalling the vivid dream, trembling fingers reached for her scarred left eye. She slowly traced along the immaculate wound. From eyebrow to cheekbone, its gentle contour was oddly elegant, perfectly severing her grey pupil in a diagonal stroke. It always served as an ugly reminder of her weak self. This much she knew.

But as much as she wished it, Furoufushi couldn't remember how she'd obtained the scar. Fragmented pictures of fresh blood arose in her mind, but not the cause. 

Heaving a gloomy sigh, the sickly woman conferred in the air.

"*sigh* I'm going crazy. That was a dream. It was a dream. I had a dream. Yes, it was all a dream."

*shk*

A slight rattling bid for Furoufushi's attention. Her two eyes drifted across the room. Leaning against the adjacent wall, Hyōteifujo's steel and sheath rang again. 

*shk*

"One second."

At a leisurely pace, Furoufushi crawled to Hyōteifujo and settled the sword in her lap. They begrudgingly discussed the matter. 

*shk*

"It was a dream."

Despite the firm assertion, the Zanpakutō clattered on its wielder's crossed legs. 

*Shk*

Furoufuhsi rolled her eyes in response. Harsh criticism poured out her frowning lips. 

"It felt real? That just means you don't know, you dumb bitch."

*shk~*

"Uh-huh, whatever. There's one way to find out." 

A minute elapsed as the nervous girl tidied herself up, straightening her hair and clothes. The tremors afflicting her appendages dissipated. Focusing on self-care calmed her tense nerves. 

Huffing a determined breath, Furoufushi approached the bedroom window. The windowsill was spotless. Its surface retained a glossy sheen without markings, unlike the muddied windowsill Furoufushi recalled. 

Skepticism showed in her scrunching eyebrows. To satisfy her doubts, she ran her fingers along the wood. Nothing came of her obsessive scrutiny. The tips of her fingers were unmistakably clean. 

But disbelief reinforced Furoufushi's outlook. She swiftly recreated the subsequent moment, prying the window open. Frigid air prickled her exposed skin as she leaned out the window. The Sun hadn't noticeably shifted. When Furoufushi peered down, she was met with an unspoiled coat of snow. 

Frowning lips molded into a sour scowl. Feeling her sanity plummet, the indignant girl slammed the window shut and exited the room. Within a couple of seconds, she brazenly threw the kitchen door aside. 

Her eye narrowed with a perceptive gaze. 

An orderly kitchen space lay before her. It was positively normal. Not a speck or stain blemished the wood floor. The paintings and tapestries were exactly as she'd remembered. Ceramic vats of preserved and raw foods stood flush against the far wall. Over the stove, pots and pans were suspended by a hanging rack. Cabinet doors swung freely, showing no signs of damage. For good measure, Furoufushi slid a few drawers open, noting the textbook arrangement of utensils and trinkets. Absolutely nothing was out of place. 

At last, she stood before the ceramic vat of Sake. A dubious expression reflected in the clear, potent liquid. Devoid of hesitation, Furoufushi hoisted the hefty vat up and away. After seeing all the evidence, she fully expected the trap door's existence to be fictitious. And just as she had suspected, the kitchen's far corner did not accommodate a secret trap door. 

Closing both eyes, Furoufushi inhaled, soaking in sincere relief. Upon exhaling, she muttered in emotion. 

'I'm not going crazy.'

She returned the vat to its previous spot. Wanting to see a familiar face, her next destination was outside Tengoku's front door. Furoufushi's depleted energy levels affected her progress. Feeling the pent-up exhaustion, her departure was burdened by staggering legs. 

Once Furoufushi reached the kitchen door, she stopped. 

Desperate whispers sounded from her gritting teeth.

'Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it…'

Ultimately, she caved in. 

Pink pigtails whirled in rotation. Facing the room, Furoufushi's eyes were sealed shut. Fists balled up; her agitation became evident. The troubled girl inhaled, drawing upon all the molecules she could muster. 

Furoufushi's scarred eyelid trembled and opened. 

A cleft, grey pupil stared at the far corner.

Any semblance of reality failed to emerge in her mind. It was impossible to see anything with only her left.

Thus, when her disfigured eye perceived a pair of strange eyes hovering where the trap door would be…

Her heart dropped.

'Fuck…'

"Ohh, Nee-san! You're awake!" 

Batsu'unsai was grabbing snacks at the front counter when she found her elder sister emerge from the hallway. A cheery smile rested on Batsu's lips.

Her large, round eyes settled on Furoufushi's stumbling figure. Instantly, the jovial grin fell into a worried frown. Batsu dropped the snacks and briskly walked around the counter. From there, she linked arms with her sick sister and headed toward the front door. 

Concern infused her rhetorical question. 

"We'll get Tenchō to take a look at you, okay?"

'Mm~…'

If Batsu was alarmed at first, now she was frightened. Furoufushi's blank stare, particularly the mutilated grey eye, scared the bespectacled woman into action. Instead of guiding, Batsu started pulling her expressionless sister along. 

Within moments, the two arrived at the front door. Batsu slid the entrance open and immediately called out.

"Tenchō!"

She already knew both Kenji and Yachiru were just outside the door. They were facing the street, sitting behind the transferred table. Two of the four seats were occupied by the Tengoku Patriarch and his disciple. Chatting over a cup of tea, they warmed their cold hands. 

Hearing the urgency of Batsu's voice, Kenji's head turned. His dull eyes set on his two adopted daughters. A silent conversation commenced between Kenji and Batsu. By the end, his vision was fixated on Furoufushi's exposed left eye. 

Kenji patted the empty chair beside him, gesturing for Batsu to help her sister sit down. In a flash, Yachiru stood up and helped Batsu gently place Furoufushi into the chair. The dazed eldest daughter lacked resistance, lifelessly slumping into her seat. Batsu and Yachiru watched as Kenji grabbed their sister's wrist. Two fingers checked Furoufushi's pulse. 

Their guardian divulged some surprising news. 

"She's in shock. Let's keep her with us for now. We can ask her what happened later. Don't worry too much Batsu."

Catching her name, Batsu's glasses revealed anxious eyes. She glanced at Kenji, matching his gaze. A small smile graced his lips as he placated her. 

"Sit down. Help is coming in a little bit. Fu-chan'll be just fine. Yachiru, go inside and grab another chair please."

"Of course, Shishō."

While her blue eyes glimmered in the faintest worry, Yachiru obediently strolled into the teahouse. Batsu, on the other hand, was completely confused. Her mouth remained open, unable to utter a word. Kenji pointed to the seat on the opposite side of Furoufushi. 

Batsu's pensive look indicated her desire to speak, but a lively commotion burst onto the scene. 

""HUT-TWO-THREE! HUT-TWO-THREE!""

Some distance down the snow-shoveled street, a mediocre procession advanced with graceless motion. Two identical male Shinigami were manning a sizable palanquin. With substantial, muscular statures, the twins easily carried the palanquin on their shoulders. The retainers sported bowl cuts with tapered fades. Thin-framed glasses rested on their prominent noses. Opaque lenses masked their eyes. 

In constant unison, the muscular men transported their unseen lord. Stomping and chanting, their abundant enthusiasm flooded into Akachou. They careened through the crowds, swerving with incredible precision. 

""HUT-TWO-THREE! HUT-TWO-THREE!""

The palanquin held an opulent quality. Lustrous golden poles allowed the muscular porters to haul it. A sloping roof decked in Edo-era tiles added to the social weight. Polished dark-wood panels enclosed the high-level official. Blue-curtained windows deterred any overly curious onlookers. 

Engraved into the dark-wood exterior were depictions of a majestic Kirin [Qilin]. Painted blue scales amplified the gilded hooves and horns of the carved Kirin. Red accents streaked across a smattering of blue scales, lifting the tastefulness to the next level. 

""HUT-TWO-THREE! HUT-TWO-THREE!""

*TSP* *TSP* *Tsp* *Tsp* *tsp* *tsp*

The muscle-headed procession bypassed the Tengoku teahouse, leaving Kenji and Batsu with twitching eyebrows. They quietly watched the porters continue marching. 

A few seconds later, a fuming roar exploded within the ornate palanquin. 

"Oi! Oi! Kazuo! Kazuhiro! We passed it! Go back! Go back!"

The Shinigami twins halted and awkwardly tried turning without a fixed axis. It resembled a boat drifting in the sea, floundering with no control. Eventually, they managed to turn. The twins' commendable devotion led them back to the entrance of the Tengoku teahouse. 

Now parked in front of the three members of the Tengoku clan, the male voice inside ordered his loyal retainers. 

"Alright, you can drop it now."

The burly boys did as they were told.

*Boom* *CRASH* *SHATTER*

Smashing against the snowy road, the palanquin experienced a brutal descent. Any items inside were definitely destroyed upon impact. Not to mention, the occupant's mental state…

"SOULS ABOVE!? My drink! AH SHIT! Oi! Oi! Not the hair! Yaah~! C'mon baby, work with me. There we go~. Alright. Lookin' good. Ahem. Ahem… BEEN A WHILE SINCE I'VE BEEN BACK IN THIS SHITHOLE!"

No one said a word.

"…Geh~…sounds like a graveyard. Where's the party at?! The King is back!"