The vast library of the Third Division was an intensely familiar and comfortable place for the gargantuan blond that strode through its front doors; for centuries, Shigemitsu Shigeo had been visiting the facility, constantly checking out and exchanging books, tomes, and other receptacles of knowledge and information. What sort of information wasn't particularly important to the Fukutaichou; he simply enjoyed the act of reading, of acquiring knowledge. Surely, he would find some occasion in which to apply the lore accumulated over the years.

Shigeo's visit this day concerned the return of a pair of rather aged, thin books: one detailing a style of swordsmanship which he thought useful, and the other a short story in the style of a poem, telling of a man's quest to find his lost family. It was, in truth, extremely bad, but Shigeo found it amusing somehow, and chose to borrow it regardless.

Approaching the librarian's desk, Shigeo flashed a brief, courteous smile, sliding the books across the surface towards the woman. "Returning these."

Kurisuna was not fond of the library. Granted, she was not fond of many things at all. Her line of work necessitated some form of appreciation for the literary field, to be certain, but the library, that horrid, congested place, was the locale she disliked the most. One day, she would close it to the general public, the Taichou told herself.

By now, Kurisuna knew the placement of nigh-on every book, every document. She knew what she was looking for, and she knew where to find it—there was no need to disturb the 3rd division's tranquil atmosphere, as some of the Gotei's most intrepid and boisterous members occasionally mustered the nerves to do. She came in, pulled a volume out by the top of its spine, and left. However, she wasn't above stirring up trouble herself, no, not anymore; Kurisuna would, every now and again, in instances such as these, cross paths with certain acquaintances she could not possibly hope to refrain from denigrating.

''He began to scramble back, trying to make it to his feet, to run, when he noticed the earth all around him shifting and undulating as hands and heads began to crawl their way out of the graves,'' Kurisuna recited as she approached the counter, from which the librarian froze, grown pale, color flushed from her features as she tentatively retrieved Shigeo's books. Her gaze was drawn to the novel nestled securely within the palm of her right hand, as if she were preaching a sermon. ''He felt teeth sink into his neck, into his plump, young belly, into the meat of his calf. Shigeo screamed, high and piercing, until the monsters gave a great tug at his shoulders and ankles, and his body tore in half.''

Clapping the book shut, Kurisuna lifted her head, stoic. ''... If only.''

Shigeo's massive frame stiffened visibly at the familiar, cold voice that split the silent air; a brief glance at the mousy librarian showed him that he was not alone in his feelings of dread, as the small woman had grown quite pale, shaking slightly. At the grisly description of Shigeo's hypothetical mauling, the librarian's mouth opened slightly in a small, quiet gasp, murmuring, "Jinkies..." Shigeo, too, felt a cold finger run down his spine at the brief, gruesome tale, wondering just what would cause his old mentor to recite such a dark sermon.

Forcing down his despair, his anxiety, his unease, the Fukutaichou put on a pleasant facade and turned to face Kurisuna, greeting her with a short and respectful bow. "Kurisu-- ah, Saikokui-Taichou," Shigeo hastily corrected his error in addressing the woman -- it would not do to address someone of Kurisuna's station in so familiar a manner, in such a public setting. "An...interesting work, to be sure. What brings you to the library? Checking out, or returning?" Simple, pointless conversation, yes; perhaps it would delay the return to the usual style of their meetings...behind Shigeo, the short, bespectacled library worker was hurriedly preparing to return the giant man's books to their places on the shelves, despite there being just the pair; any excuse to leave the immediate area would be gratefully and eagerly seized.

Kurisuna scowled lightly as Shigeo rectified his slip-up with haste. Her arm dropped to hang by her side, the novel pinched between her fingers still, as she appraised the Lieutenant from head to toe; although they had known one another for what just about amounted to a whole millennium, there was no semblance of comradeship between the two of them: only amity outmatched by enmity. ''I am the Captain of this division. I do not ''check out,'' as you put it. I was picking up a novel I'd reserved on my way to the grounds, when I spotted the likes of you at the counter. You see, one phenomenon the 3rd Division has yet to document is just how the 4th even functions at all. It's inexplicable. Like... gravity.''

Kurisuna noted, out the corner of her eyes, the identities of both the books he'd borrowed. A thin, unfavorable smile creased her lips as she watched the librarian scamper off. ''Of course, enough of that. A guide to swordsmanship... Has your blade gone dull?''

Shigeo grimaced slightly, biting back the angry retort he wished to blurt out at Kurisuna's mockery of his division -- and, far more likely, his own abilities. Taking a moment to compose himself, he replied calmly, "Forgive my misunderstanding, Saikokui-Taichou...and I assure you, the Fourth Division is quite capable; we take our duties seriously, and carry out our tasks with the utmost efficiency."

His gaze, too, flicked briefly to the book on swordsmanship he had borrowed, and the Fukutaichou's brow twitched slightly, so very slightly. Despite his immense respect for and care towards Kurisuna -- she had, after all, been a close friend and mentor of Kenjutsu to him for nigh-on a millenium -- he took great pride in his skill with a blade, and anyone insulting that skill might find themselves discovering firsthand just how much he knew of swordplay... No. Calm yourself, fool; it's Kurisuna that speaks to you, your teacher, your friend, Shigeo scolded himself a moment later. Show her the deference she is deserving of.

"...No, Taichou. My sword, and my skills, are as sharp as ever, thanks to your training," Shigeo finally replied in a quiet voice. It pained him to hear her speak so callously, but what could he do? Ever since that dark day, four centuries ago, she had gone from a warm, amiable woman, whose company was enjoyed by many, to a cold and cruel figure who had since spurned all of Shigeo's attempts to revive a companionable relationship. Regardless, he continued to visit and speak amicably to the red-haired woman, hoping against hope.

"I see," reflected Kurisuna, chuckling softly as Shigeo sought to salvage his division's honor and simultaneously keep a cool head as she disparaged his standing. Her insults were empty, she knew as much—Shigeo was a fine Lieutenant, and an even finer comrade, though she did not view him the part; Kurisuna operated on the belief that, try as she might to get under his skin, the Fukutaichou would not retort, would not fight back in any way.

But that was wrong. Everyone has their limits. Eventually, she would take it too far. She knew it, and figured that, deep down, so did Shigeo. The library… the library was no place for such unpleasant behavior, and yet she did not regret attacking her pupil, did not and would never come to mind any glance trained ephemerally in her direction, cast by people who more likely than not hated her. And that was fine, of course; they should.

''That's... good,'' she told him flatly. Kurisuna scrunched her brows, and her mouth gaped open for a second or so before she closed it shut and looked away. Now, several hundred years into the future, she regretted their sessions, and no longer wished to recall the countless hours she had spent honing the skills of another; swordsmanship was her forte, but in light of her declining health...

Could she no longer be up to snuff? Had even Shigeo surpassed her by now? Kurisuna all but grew a shade paler as she pondered such insidious thoughts.

"...Saikokui-Taichou? Are you well?" The woman's sudden hesitation and seeming illness brought a note of concern to Shigeo's voice. "Perhaps we could take this...conversation elsewhere? Libraries are not well-known for their pure air; dusty old tomes and that sort of thing." As he gestured back towards the exit of the library, the Fukutaichou winced inwardly at his slight hesitation. With luck, Kurisuna wouldn't notice it in her apparently distracted state...

To be honest, Shigeo did wish to show his mentor how much he had improved since their days together in the training field. However, he wanted to demonstrate his skill in a friendly arena, and such a feat seemed beyond the realm of possibility now. Perhaps she would prove more amenable to the idea of a friendly spar if he kept things respectful?

As Shigeo expressed concern over her health, Kurisuna turned to look at him. Her face twisted in anger as he spoke of the library's condition, calling it things like dusty and impure; it was most certainly neither, scoffed the woman in her head as eyes narrowed, and lips furled into a sneer. ''Am I well?'' Her voice rose, though it was not yet loud enough to garner the attention of adjacent readers. ''Of course not. How could I possibly be? After all, my library is a loathsome collection of filthy, untended books.''

She turned her head again, chin up, eyes shut, and in the flattest, most scathingly sarcastic tone she could muster, said, ''Miracle that an old crone such as I has yet to croak in a place like this.''

The Fukutaichou knew, as soon as he saw Kurisuna's wrathful expression, he had misspoken; it seemed the woman took great pride in the state of her library, and his description of it, although intended to serve as a persuasion to bring her outside, had been poorly chosen indeed. "N-no...Kuri- er, Saikokui-Taichou, I did not mean..." Shigeo stammered in dismay. This encounter was going as well as had all others before.

Things only got worse from there, as the tall, red-haired woman adopted an indignant pose, bemoaning her status as an "old crone" -- in a painfully sarcastic tone, of course. Shigeo tentatively stepped forward, nonetheless, saying, "Taichou, you're hardly an old crone; you're still as youthful and fit as when I met you, as well as being..." he trailed off here, wondering how to continue. Things could deteriorate further (if such a thing were possible) between the two if he misspoke again, so it may be better to play things safe. "...an excellent swordsmaster to this day," he finally finished lamely.

There he went again. Kurisuna scowled as Shigeo began to pronounce her name, but quickly rectified his mistake; it was apparent that the man experienced difficulty when it came to addressing her in a formal fashion, as all lesser-ranked Shinigami ought to do, millennium's worth of history or no. ''Shigemitsu-san... you will compose yourself in my division. You may not be on duty, but this is no way for a Lieutenant to carry himself.'' Of course, Kurisuna knew all about exemplary behavior, even if she manifested its antithesis more often than not: she was no longer the woman he'd befriended, and the Fukutaichou had better learn to either abstain from saying her name, or hold his tongue in her company.

Kurisuna resumed glaring daggers, her unoccupied hand now clenched into a fist. More lies—no, jeers—were flowing past his lips. She wasn't as fit; she knew it, as did he, and everyone else. ''Yes... I suppose I was.''

"...Yes, Saikokui-Taichou. As you say." Shigeo's reply was a few moments in coming, but his voice was perfectly level and unemotional when he did find it. Painful as it was to speak so with her, Kurisuna was a Taichou, and as a lower rank he must obey her orders. He stood a bit straighter, clasping his hands behind his back parade rest. If she wished him to act as was required of his rank, so be it; he would cease his efforts to reach out, for the moment.

His head cocked to one side at Kurisuna's emphasis on the past tense; surely she had not slacked in her training, she who drove him so rigorously? "Was?" he repeated, raising his brows. "Again, Saikokui-Taichou, I cannot believe your own remarkable skills would have slipped," he continued, inclining his head respectfully.

He noted her rising ire once more, though he couldn't fathom what would be causing it. It only provided another source of concern for the fair-haired goliath. "...Perhaps a brief spar -- a meeting of blades between old friends -- would dispel your doubts?" he asked hopefully, thinking to get Kurisuna to acknowledge their friendship once more. A step in the right direction, it would be.

''Do not misunderstand,'' Kurisuna started, tone low, creeping, yet uncharacteristically soft, for she was satisfied that Shigeo would yield in his endeavors to… connect with her. ''It is true that I have neither trained nor sparred in quite a while, now. Nonetheless…'' A thin, playful smirk drew at the corner of her lips, and her eyes, still narrowed, were no longer glaring, though they were still far from amicable. ''To lose to a novice such as yourself... I had better be in my death throes.''

Truthfully, if she hadn't fought, it was because she'd seldom found herself a foe as the fancy possessed her; Kurisuna was widely known for her excitability, and equally as notorious for her penchant toward sadism, which, more often than not, manifested itself under the form of not stopping till she came dangerously close to breaking Gotei laws.

Mind, none of this was a problem right now, and she was partial to a spar. Kurisuna's smirk broadened to a grin as she closed the distance between the duo, naught but a few inches apart, and looked into the Lieutenant's eyes. ''Granted, if it's a fight you want...''

Novice? Novice? That was twice that Kurisuna had downplayed his abilities. Shigeo's jaw clenched in anger and indignation; he would love to show her right now how inaccurate her label was...especially when she outright admitted that she had not bothered to improve, let alone maintain, her own Kenjutsu skills!

Again, the Fukutaichou quickly reined in his roiling wrath, compressing it to a small, controlled core of cool anger -- alongside a gut-churning sense of anxiety. He would simply have to demonstrate to his former teacher that her efforts had not been wasted; she could be proud of the warrior he had become. He maintained his professional poise, though; this attitude seemed to keep Kurisuna's irritability at a minimum.

Surprise flitted briefly behind Shigeo's eyes as the Taichou, nearly as tall as he, leaned in close with a large grin, leaving almost no distance between the pair. After she issued her challenge, his azure orbs locked onto her auburn ones, a heavier silence than usual hung over the library; tension rolled off the pair of shinigami in almost palpable waves. Shigeo wanted to step backwards -- or was it forward? -- but seemed almost paralyzed by the Taichou's powerful stare. Eventually, he found himself once more, stating slowly, "I would be delighted to meet you in combat, Saikokui-Taichou."

Ahh, that killed it. Delighted to meet her in combat? Whatever happened to the reluctance, the dread, which tended to accompany her adversaries throughout the ordeal of facing her in a duel of swords? For a moment, Kurisuna frowned, narrowing those auburn eyes... before her gaze then widened maniacally, in unison with the grin spread to either cheek. ''Too bad, too bad!'' she cackled dryly, pulling back and twirling 'round, hardly caring any for those she might have, in her dearly deluded change of heart, disturbed. The Captain glanced over her right shoulder, that deranged smile yet to leave her lips. ''I've better to do than spar an old student of mine. Run along, Shigemitsu-san. You're a thousand years too early.'' That said, she walked off, waving the novel in her hand; Kurisuna was satisfied enough with leaving Shigeo to simmer there and then, on his lonesome.


[exit]

A brief flash of Kurisuna's narrowed, displeased gaze was enough to cause Shigeo to shift uncomfortably; had he angered her yet again, somehow, with his eagerness to fight? Before he knew it, though, the older woman's expression had reversed dramatically, eyes wide and teeth bared in a massive, manic grin. The Fukutaichou could only blink in confusion at his old friend's wildly fluctuating mood as she backed away.

"A thousand--?" Shigeo started angrily, glaring at the Taichou's steadily retreating back; his protest died in his throat, however, and he found himself standing in the middle of the library's lobby, hands clenched into fists at his sides and numerous readers surreptitiously glancing at him every now and again. With a sound somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle, the tall blond forced himself to uncurl his hands, and walked out, headed towards his own division once more.

[exit]

Shigeo - 8 RP

Kurisuna - 7 RP

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