Listen While You Read
The cool early morning air swept across the Seventh Division, flowing unhindered throughout the deathly still compound toward she who commanded those that called this place home. The Captain of the Seventh allowed the breeze to approach, lucent hairs stiffening alongside goosebumped skin, the briskness caressing her to the point of elation, and yet her single bright-green eye remained open and ever-discerning, as she gazed down upon that which was hers.
The sky yet basked in night, the only light shone upon the Shinigami’s scarred face and long ginger hair that of burning ornamented braziers at her sides, fashioned to resemble elegant phoenixes: an additional pair dutifully nestled on either side of the only passageway in and out of her office’s balcony, and countless more strewn leading into and about the Officer’s Command Station. They roared night and day as a reminder to both familiar and stranger, that the flames of the Seventh would never be quelled, rising up again and again from the ashes until the end of time.
With a deep nasal exhale did Nao rid her lungs of the exquisite plum scented tobacco, hastily refilled with an equally deep puff of her smoking pipe. The cool breeze forced the purple haze away, forever lost to the darkness, and yet the sweet aroma of plum lingered, surely noticeable to the on-duty officers beyond the walls, as they worked diligently from within. Her gaze shifted from the Officer’s Barracks that lay below, and which surrounded the Command Station, to the near West where a congregation of buildings stood firm, they too illuminated by blazing fires.
An ardeus nine months had seen the Seventh rebuilt, and although there remained a great deal of work to be done, the foundation for its inevitable rebirth was put into place. Within the Command Station, to which stood hundreds of miles north of Sōkyoku Hill, the fabled landmark towering in the backdrop even beyond the reach of the Seventh's highest vantage point, resided the Surveillance and Dispatch Unit. A top priority even before her acceptance into the venerable pantheon of Captains, Nao’s initial pursuit upon promotion was the acquisition of the capability to monitor the Rukongai in its entirety, which ultimately required a direct petition to the Central Forty-Six. A lengthy inquisition, and exhaustive yet persuasive back-and-forth with the Speaker of the House, Kyosai Tsunayashiro, came to an inevitable resolution: in the end, the Captain of the Seventh would be granted that which she sought. The Tsunayashiro Noble Family would provide the Seventh Division with a restricted and heavily monitored edition of the clan’s Visual Surveillance Department, to be handled only by the Captain and a handful of those most trusted in her command. A decree that Nao accepted with delight, evidenced by her deep bow and thankful declaration of,
“May the Soul King bless you, kindest of the kind, Speaker Tsunayashiro”.
Nao giggled at the recollection of events, enjoying another sequence of tobacco exhalation and inhalation, as her thoughts were seized elsewhere. To the near West resided the High Threat Crisis Response Unit, to the East the Builders’ Corps, and yet East of that, the Rukongai Patrol Command, each housing their respective Enlisted Barracks. The entirety of the Seventh Division spanned for endless miles, although to Nao, the total distance may as well have been nothing more than a meter; a common occurrence for Divisioners to be graced with their Captain’s presence, when a mere breath before, she stood at the opposite end of the Division grounds. But such was the nature of work under Captain Murakami, who led by example, always available to those under her command.
The red of her pipe's chamber
brightened, accompanied by a new series of ponderings.
The Kenpachi Games came to a resounding and fateful close, the title of the strongest in all of the Seireitei bestowed upon a most fitting Shinigami.
“Ken…Pachi Hageshi,” Nao whispered to herself as she thanked a Security Patrol duo making their rounds below.
A combination of title and name with an exceptional roll off the tongue, held by a Soul feared by most. Although Nao never met the woman, acquiring a general understanding of another’s soul could be reasonably ascertained from their demeanor, particularly in the heat of combat. Fierce, unrelenting, and in all sense of the word, a monster; Captain Hageshi overcame all obstacles placed before her, an unstoppable force that would simply never yield, and in the end so too did the Fabled Fairy fall victim to her might. A gruesome ordeal that left the Seireitei’s premier healer to bathe in the warmth of his own lifeblood. Most intriguing were the powers displayed for all to see, their respective Bankais a spectacle that led Nao to wonder about their precise machinations, in an attempt to bridge the gap between what she’d heard from the many stories and that which she’d seen with her own eyes. To fell the Fairy with a single swing, outright unfathomable the power that Captain Hageshi’s Zanpakutō held. Also peculiar that as Captain Nakamoto lay motionless, he somehow yet still was able to rid the Beast of her arms. Indeed a ghastly confrontation, but one that instilled a sense of security within Nao, for she held no doubts that if the Soul Society were ever to face the inevitable threat, it would be crushed post haste.
A lethargic line of orange sketched across the Eastern horizon, the sun rising at last, accompanied by a methodical rumble from the same distant East, the sound echoing through the earth, reverberating through the foundations of the Command Station, and into her very bones. Every dawn that set brought with it a series of events to which the Captain of the Seventh looked forward to, signaling the start of yet another relentless day.
As the Officer Corps did much the same, lining up in their assigned elements, and then squadrons, their Captain peered down at them absently, her thoughts elsewhere but for a brief moment. A cloud of purple smoke burst from her nostrils, dancing with the flames of the burning braziers at her sides.
Only recently Nao came to learn that she was not alone in her ascension to Captaincy.
Captain Honoka Oki, the once disgraced noble, took that which was always within her reach. It came as no surprise that when faced with an ultimatum, the poor woman rose beyond the occasion, for her capabilities as a Shinigami were never in question. Even so, Nao couldn’t help but feel for the noble, as it seemed that destiny set the matron upon a path of utter tragedy.
What was a surprise, although delightful simply for the fact that she finally heard his name after what must have been a century, was the promotion of Captain Shizuka Hyouzoku. Ever since their meeting centuries past, she knew the day would come when Shizuka took the reins of the Tenth, for he possessed power very few could dream of attaining. Although she wondered…if he was still the same work-averse bundle of joy, or if he’d changed? Life always held the strangest twist and turns, the experiences often affecting Souls in equally mysterious ways. And the circulating rumors regarding what had transpired in Naruki City, if true, were testament to just how cruel life could get.
Nao pulled out her Soul Pager, taking the ornate pipe from her pink lips and into the gentle fingers of her left hand. She opened a new message, the recipient Shizuka, noting their last communication having been over ninety years past. A bemused chuckle escaped her.
My, how time flies.
Shizuka!!! My love, how-
She stopped, wondering if her candor was out of place. It truly had been a long while, and in light of their recent circumstances, she chose to address him accordingly.
[DELETE] [DELETE] [DELETE]
Captain Hyouzoku!!! Congratulations on your promotion! I know it’s been a while, I’d love to see you again. Hope all is well.
[SEND]
The sending of the message was confirmed by the tone of flapping wings, to which the device then returned to its place within her Shihakusho.
As she returned the pipe to her lips, they coiled into a bright smile.
On the matter of Captains, her thoughts of
that man could never be curbed, perpetually forcing their way to the forefront. From within the reflection of her green eye, the re-enactment of Suiyo Kusotare’s test came to life, the blurred dance of his ebony blade a display of Zanjutsu perfection. By his swordsmanship alone, she concluded his true identity with certainty, for she could count on the fingers of one hand the Souls capable of matching his skill with the blade. And that Zanpakutō he wielded, with a power of which she simply couldn’t fully piece together, was a mystery all on its own. How exactly had he manipulated the Senkaimon, and subsequently escaped the Valley of Screams? Hypotheses that she surely would come to answer someday.
Of the countless Rukongai Legends she encountered, only two matched the tale feat by feat: the White Death, and the Soul responsible for her unhealable scar. No surprise then, that the old man was given a haori and a Division to lead, although she did wonder how the Eighth would function under such a…unique character. Alas, inconsequential musings for in the end, the Thirteen Court Guard Squads had bolstered its ranks with yet another giant.
With the sun half-risen, its light illuminating the Seireitei in a dull orange, shingled rooftops reflecting intensely, and the Officers standing at attention in formation, one last thought came to her. That of a young and boisterous Shinigami, full of immense potential, that reminded Nao of herself when she was younger…although a hazy memory, and one she wasn’t entirely sure of. Regardless, the power within this Shinigami’s soul had been noted and subsequently, a direct interest taken. With the heartbreaking disappearance of Lieutenant Ise, and the unfortunate loss of the Ise Clan’s Ancestral Zanpakutō to the wilds, the Captain of the Seventh required a replacement, and that she would have upon the flourishing of one named Noi Momotomo.
As she awaited the arrival of her protégé, Nao took one last gander at the immaculately still rows of Officers beneath her, and the mass formations of Enlisted Squadrons in the distance, until her gaze met with that of the Commanding Officer leading the morning’s roll call. He looked up at her with reverence, expectant of her orders. Although she was a Soul who weaved through life with unapologetic gusto, treating those under her Command as if they were family and in the process, elevating an environment brimming with morale, it didn’t preclude her from running a tight operation.
She drew in the deepest inhale of tobacco yet, and nodded, the single gesture leading to the simultaneous recitation of the Division’s Creed, a unified and harmonious bellow that would be heard across the entirety of the Seireitei, ensuring that if the other Divisions were yet slumbering, they would awaken and be reminded of what it meant to be the Gotei 13.