Hideaki Shinoumourin, a man, a shinigami, a
deserter finds himself in both one of the best and worst places he could be — behind the cold, sturdy heavy gates of the twelfth division. A century being awol has sparked a sense of accomplishment in the young shinigami, distancing himself in search of strength, strength that failed him when it was first tested upon his return. Robbed of one arm, rather reclaim what he has lost, he seeks to replace it, he takes a different path than the one he had previously traveled, yet his goal is still the same; strength. It is this path, this desire that brings him to his current environment, set off with the blessing of The Sixth Division’s de facto leader, Michi Kiyoshi.
Upon his arrival he announces himself, while presenting paperwork. He declares his business is of the utmost importance but..important for who? He requests to speak with someone in the division with authority, and is met with an incredulous look. Was the Sixth Division seeking top secret information? Or, perhaps this was a task for the Nobles, the papers were signed by a Kiyoshi after all. It couldn’t have been a task handed by the Commander or the Central 46, they had their own methods of relaying orders. No, neither one of those could be correct. While he did say the matter was of the utmost importance, he also said it was
personal. This meant it had no true bearing on the nobles, or the Seireitei as a whole…this…Hideaki, was here to bother them to make something for him. If that was all he was here for, why the secrecy and feigned urgency? The cloak and dagger, and more importantly…why did he need someone with authority for such a thing?
The Shinigami couldn’t understand the man’s thoughts, and if he was wanting to discuss the matter with someone in the division with authority, only one man truly came to mind. He wasn’t looking forward to bothering the man in question with such a matter, in an act of self preservation he’d be sure to get another colleague to make the call. Hideaki is escorted towards an area where he could wait while the Shinigami goes in search of a sacrificial lamb. As Hideaki sits, he perceives those who pass by him to be looking at the state his body is in, and while this may be partially true for some, others were merely curious as to why he was here and who in the world had let him in.
The sound of sizzling distracts the transformed brainiac from his current distraction that was Hanabi. He turns and refocuses on his project, as the water bubbles in the flask, foam beginning its journey towards the top of the glass container. He lifts the flask from the flame, studying the contents, the liquid inside shifting back and forth in hue.
"You are, correct, sir. I think I see what it is that I need to do."
His
”colleague” starts off by stating the obvious. Of course he was correct, the man hardly ever erred in judgement or act. His hands continue on, he cannot stop now, quickly moving over to pour the liquid into another glass container, mixing in with its contents. His eyes strain, focusing intently on the chemical process taking place before him, a single bead of sweat rolling down his forehead, traveling down the bridge of his nose, lingering at its tip. WIth his focus elsewhere, he does not see Hanabi turn from him.
"I hereby announce that I will be retiring from the twelfth division. I believe that there is nothing good I can do here in this loop of self deprecation. It was an honor to see your work up to this point sir."
The announcement of her resignation or, rather her transfer out of Twelfth Division garners no response or reaction from the man, it was debatable if he was even paying attention at this point. Licking his lips he carefully places the emptied flask down, moving his head just as that lingering bead of sweat drops down onto the table, having missed the glass beaker by a hair’s breadth. He grabbed a stirring rod and began stirring the contents inside, the clanking of glass hitting glass and the sloshing of the liquid filled his ears as he watched the pink bleed into red, and that red soon changing into purple.
"Please do change back soon sir, you looked better before."
Hanabi’s quiet voice falls on deaf ears or rather distracted ones. Even if he had heard, he’d pay it no mind. What form he adopted was inconsequential, what mattered was he maintained his brilliance and his ability to still experiment and perform. Physical beauty or attraction was subjective, and irrelevant to those who tread the path of science. Through science anything was possible, a hideous beast could become a dazzling beauty, a cripple could be made whole, it is with and through science that they will advance and be secured for decades, centuries, millenia to come.
’Uh Nyuraku sir-’
Several minutes had passed since Hanabi had vacated his sanctuary, undoubtedly to clear out her office, workspace and barracks, unbeknownst to him of course. Another distraction, this time in the voice of another, interrupts his peace.
”WHAT NOW?”
He asked, clearly perturbed at being bothered right now. He looks up from his work table towards his computer to see the face of the latest nuisance.
A man, eyes hidden behind thick lenses, with ears covered by headphones jolts at Kurotsuchi’s response. It appeared the shinigami who had guided twelfth’s “guest” inside had found their scapegoat.
’There’s a Hideaki person from Sixth Di-’
”And?”
Nyu impatiently interrupts the stammering man as he speaks, trying to relay the information.
’Well, he’s here, and injured -’
”And?”
Again the man is interrupted, Nyuraku’s voice rising. It seems he was insistent on interrupting the messenger just as he had been rudely interrupted while he was working. It was also clear that this was not the Fourth Division, as it should have been known. An injured shinigami was of no importance to them, if they were hurt they should go see the medics, rather wasting time bothering those in the Institution of Research and Development.
’Well he had a paper signed by Michi Kiyoshi an-’
”AND?!”
Kurotsuchi practically shouts, his voice echoing throughout his lab, easily heard by those on the other end of the screen other than the one to whom the words were directed.
’HE SAID HE’S GOT IMPORTANT BUSINESS AND WILL ONLY SPEAK WITH YOU SIR!’
He shakily speeds through the rest of his message, sealing his mouth shut as he awaits the scientist’s response. Nyuraku stares…dumb founded by the situation. Was he truly being bothered by something so trivial, because of someone equally irrelevant. Who was this Hideaki and what obligation did Kurotsuchi have to personally see him to indulge whatever silly little request he had?
”If you don’t just send him away and-”
He pauses mid-sentence, eyes glancing down at the various flasks and beakers spread out, some empty, others filled with vibrantly colored liquids or dark mury concoctions. Nyuraku strokes his chin, propping himself up against the table for a second.
”Very well, bring him to me. Oh, prepare the documents as well.”
While this was indeed a rather upsetting annoyance and delay, he could also look at it as an opportunity. Nyuraku Kurotsuchi was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
On the other end of the screen the video is cut off, canceled on Nyuraku’s end. The shinigami breathes a bit easier. He heads over towards a filing cabinet, as outdated as it may appear he enjoyed it for its ‘rustic’ appeal. He opens it up, leafing through various folders and pages before withdrawing a series of papers. Closing the cabinet he hurries out of his smaller office, lab coat swishing about as he stumbles and slides along the floor in his hurry to fulfill his assignment. The sound of squeaking and then skidding reaches Hideaki’s room well before the man comes wheezing and stumbling in. He takes a breath, fanning himself with the papers in hand. Many of those in Twelfth were far from warriors or athletes.
”Hideaki right? If you would, come with me please. I’ll guide you to who you need to see.”
He shoots the one armed shinigami a smile, turning to begin leading the way, expecting the man to follow without much complaint or delay. Afterall, it was him who said it was an important matter, so he of all people should be the last to try and dally.
”Man, I honestly thought he was going to shout at me and make us kick you out ahaha. You sure lucked out.”
He laughs the matter off as he makes small talk during his escorting. One look at the man, his manner of speech and disposition and it is clear that he is
not a man of authority and influence, but that didn’t matter, since it seemed he was being directed by one who was. The guide rambles on about being tired, and how everyone’s always so busy, his back problems, and how he thinks he may need a stronger prescription for his glasses, giving Hideaki little room to interject or respond to anything being said, if he wanted to speak at all. From all the ceaseless chatter it seemed they had arrived near their journey’s end sooner rather than later. Suddenly, the guide comes to a halt.
”Ah, before you enter if you want anything done by him you have to sign this waiver.”
The man turns to present the papers and a pen, holding out the papers on one hand as though his palm were a platter, and offering a pen with the other. This was common practice for the Kurotsuchi, the only exception to date being when the previous Commander had him cure or rather help the shinigami infected with hollowfication. Hideaki unfortunately was no Commander, not even close. If he wanted anything done from Nyuraku he would sign, if not…he could leave. Nyu didn’t care either way, certain that whatever it was that the man wanted to ask of him was something so simple a child could accomplish it. Near the entrance to the lab a slight shifting to the side, and a glance inside would give him a glimpse of the back of the man he wanted…
needed to see. If he signed the guide would simply allow him to continue inside unimpeded, though…he could potentially force his way in to plead his case as well, though there was no telling how he would be received if he presented himself in such a manner, or…he could just leave. Three options lay before Hideaki, one assured his safety, two came with risks, and one path assured that despite the risk he could acquire what he desired. What choice did the wounded wolf intend to make?
