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SPOILER: Click to show

This thread takes place immediately after the Halloween event. [link]

"We can talk about it later. Let's take care of this situation right now."

It was the last thing Sumie had said as the other Shinigami and Rukon Citizens cleared the scene besides those of the Third Division, still awaiting orders from either the Taichou or Fukutaichou, their numbers more apparent now that the others had headed back. The rain had ceased as well, leaving the Third Division unit alone with the corpses. With the storm clouds gone as quickly as they came, the sky had returned to the graying pre-dawn light.

It would be a long while before the residents of the Third District trickled back in. While Sumie was sure that the Shinigami who were passing back through would alert those in the Second District who had been evacuated that the enemy was dispatched, she said, "We should send a runner to the Second District to tell them of the situation. Given that the Second District is not made to house residents we should allow them to come back, but that means we should work quickly here to gather evidence and return the scene to normal so we don't have to allot manpower out here longer than necessary." Sumie also didn't want to keep these people from their homes, they had had a trying night as well and many of them had small children and probably sickly family members.

If Sumie had looked tired before, it was nothing compared to now as the adrenaline from the odd situation had worn off. While the length of her years had long since passed a point where Sumie could look older than her age, she certainly looked older than she normally did. The shadows and lines around her eyes had deepened considerably and her usually upturned mouth was pulled down at the corners of her lips, settling into a perpetual frown for the moment.

There was a lot of work and a lot of people involved. Sumie was still trying to work out the best way to approach it though she had already given her initial statement. The secondary part was obvious, but she voiced it nonetheless. "I also need to take a look around the area." She didn't stay why; everyone knew why. Sumie was quite capable of absorbing the imagery completely so that even when cleaned up, she'd remember each detail. Granted, as tired as she was, it would take her a little longer to do so than normal. It was well worth it however, in their line of work, especially with Sumie's supplemental skill; the ability to draw out with amazing accuracy what she saw in her own head. She could make portraits of the area as it was that could be examined, not only by the Third Division's investigators, but by the captains of the Gotei later. Surely there would be a meeting, which meant Sumie, who had been at the center of it all, would have to file a report.

"I'll need someone to escort me," she added, admitting in her tone that she was far too tired to walk the grounds alone. Something might still be lurking in the shadows and it may not necessarily be one of the monsters from before. There were plenty of shady people in the Rukongai. Still, she looked to Kurisuna after all, and despite the oddness of what the woman had told her, she granted the captain a weary smile and said, "If that's alright with you of course, Saikokui-taichou." In the end, Kurisuna was in charge of the Third Division and she could override Sumie's orders with ease. Whether the members wanted to follow or not didn't matter.

Even as she addressed her fellow Shinigami and Kurisuna, Sumie clutched at the thin silver box which the old woman had given her. Yet she did so in an absent minded manner, as if she had forgotten about the parcel she had been given. Her body hadn't however. Her knuckles were white from how hard she held onto it, as if it needed to cling to something material from the bizarre night to prove it hadn't all been a bad dream caused by slightly sour milk.

Sighing, her head bowed slightly in defeat, Kurisuna consigned the affair with Kiba to a later time. Sumie was right: the Shinigami had a situation on their hands, and it would not do to upset her after such a demanding night. The woman was nearing her limits, the tired lines set below her brow testament of the energy she'd expanded; Kurisuna thought to have her rest a few hours before resuming the Third’s line of work, but Sumie knew not to exceed her boundaries.

Raising her head, she turned to the expectant members of her division, glancing side-long at her Lieutenant as she invoked one of their most pressing concerns; the 2nd was by and large too ill-equipped to lodge the mobs of its outer district, and to quarantine the entire populace, given its well-known propensity for law-breaking, was to risk dissension between the Shinigami and their suppliers.

As she waited for Sumie to finish, her neck jerking to fix the woman's world-weary expression at her intended perusal of neighborhoods that had, until recently, been swarming with enemies, Kurisuna scowled softly. ''That's fine. I'll accompany you.'' She raised her voice in order to address her subordinates, then, tone laden with the callous no-bullshit attitude she addressed everybody else with, ''I want the vicinity of every corpse you find isolated until I deem the Second fit to relocate them. Comb through these sectors! I want the names, faces, and details of every citizen to have participated!''

Her division was always so prompt, she noted arrogantly, as the bulk of its members scrambled to search the vacant arteries of a city that would be resuscitated come noon. Kurisuna belayed one of their nimblest males with a glance and a beckoning sweep of the hand, then said, ''Send word to every division. Request that they provide the Third with the individual reports of every Shinigami out on the field this morning. Tell Hitoshi-Taichou to refrain from releasing any inhabitant of the Rukongai taken in for medical attention, and to prepare his facility for the physical examinations of everyone to have partaken.''

Swelling with an aura that betrayed over four-hundred years of languishing, Kurisuna permitted herself a lopsided smile and intoned a final demand to a second able-bodied Shinigami, ''We've not enough men to establish temporary shelter for the residents whose homes have been damaged, or our troops. Go before Tachibana-Taichou and solicit her support. We're too far from Seireitei to function efficiently on so large a scale.''

Finally, she turned back to Sumie, the sight of her so well beyond her years pinching her smile with the ambivalence of whether or not it was wise to escort her, after all. ''You're overworked. As soon as things settle down, you're taking the day off.''

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There was a phrase which people who considered themselves hardcore workaholics used that was something akin to, 'I'll sleep when I'm dead'. Sumie had heard it many times before from various people with egos and energy befitting such a blunt statement (though it was never true), but she was not among the people who would say as such. At least not at this point in time, so when Kurisuna finished with her additional orders to the rest of the Third then told Sumie she would have the rest of the day off, the Fukutaichou nodded and gave Kurisuna a weary smile of reassurance and consent to her proposals.

At the very least, Sumie would sleep for a short period of time. The likelihood of her taking a day off was nonexistent. She always worked in some manner, even if her captain didn't know it. Some days Sumie felt like a small spider in the center of a very large web where other, much larger, spiders hunted. They'd tear the web in their pursuits and Sumie would scuttle back and forth to repair the damage while monitoring the rest of the web through touch. Sometimes, when things got messy, Sumie had to use the web to isolate one of the other spiders, but that hadn't happened in a long time. Sumie was good at her job and it was best for the well being of other people that she was, even if they never knew how much she truly did.

Already her mind was turning over how to best sort the incoming information that reports from the divisions would entail. She would need to write one up for the Third as well, even if Kurisuna filed her own roster and details of the event because Sumie had experienced something different than the rest and it would surely come up. Still, that was secondary and Sumie pushed it to the dark corners of her mind where her subconscious took it over and tinkered with it out of her forethought's territory. It had its own work to do in examining the area.

"If you're ready then, Saikokui-taichou," Sumie said as she went to pull reiatsu into her hand to activate their division's unique talent. It was then that Sumie remembered the thin metal box with all its odd markings. There wasn't time to examine it just yet, so she tucked it into the front of her obi where it laid against the top of her abdomen for safe keeping.

Once that was taken care of, Sumie again drew reiatsu into her right hand. She leaned down and marked the area as the starting point on undisturbed ground, that way it was not contaminating any evidence. While Sumie didn't necessarily require such a landmark, it would help the others who were working. "Make sure you are labeling areas you have already combed for evidence," she called out. "We don't want people wasting time on areas that have been covered. Just do it in locations that wont disturb the scene!"

The mark which Sumie had made was in this form, visible to all, so she trusted the others to do the same; the average Joe in intelligence rarely made it into the Third. Of all the transfers made from division to division, the Third was responsible for a good deal of them. If someone wasn't up to par with investigation skills, they were sent to do more mundane tasks in a different division. Despite being called librarians, they didn't spend all their time sorting books and cleaning shelves. It was often a shock to new members.

Still, there was a lot of cleaning and sorting that went on.

Bobbing her head in a universal nod of confirmation, Kurisuna stuck out her leg; she paused, turning mid-step, when she saw that Sumie was not ready, and noted that her fascination with the strange metal box had not yet tapered off. She had not missed the white-knuckled grip, or the fine, intricate glyphs drafted upon the surface, but thought to inquire about the woman's findings only after she'd gotten some rest, odds being that Sumie would not fail to remember her superior's gaze honing in on her midsection as she fixed the obi; if her Lieutenant was not the slightest bit concerned for its contents, why should she be?

Once Sumie had finished scoring the scene and instructing members that they ought to do the same, Kurisuna reeled her arm in to beckon the Fukutaichou with a soft, but nonetheless firmer 'let's go.'

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And go they did.

With orders given, the Third dispersed in silent efficiency, marking their progress as they filed away the detail of the spread out scene. Sumie knew she'd need to be quick about her own trek through the evidence so that it could be bagged and tagged then the area cleaned so that the Fifth could come in and do their assigned job; rebuilding. Or at least manage the aftermath in a way the Third was not trained to do.

The Fukutaichou was quiet in a manner that was not entirely pensive, but more on the exhausted side. Still, her mind mulled over the sensory input as her eyes digested what she saw. Though she had progressed along her captain to just the first of many portions of the investigation, Sumie questioned her superior. "What... what do you think this is?"

Sumie had, as most people do in such situations, already begun to form an opinion based on what knowledge she had of related matters. It was for such a reason that she had asked Kurisuna for her opinion. If anyone had first had recollection of a similar incident, it would be her, perhaps Malik too, but Kurisuna was the older of the pair and also currently at Sumie's disposal.

Adopting an easier pace as to foster Sumie from the fatigue that taxed her so, Kurisuna padded alongside the Lieutenant anxiously. Her skull clamored in perpetual contrast with her environment, the muted, terror-fraught ripples of a bittersweet wind, simultaneously fresh and unremittingly putrid, accosting the slow crescendo of a budding headache. It would climax to something of a migraine, she reasoned bitterly, but not before the self-assigned task of providing for Sumie was over.

Overlooking the dull, percussing ache, she flicked her gaze searchingly this way and that, one hand folded across her waist by the holstered blade as she assumed the deceitfully tiresome chore of scouring their vicinity for all that her mind couldn't reconcile with the norm. She, too, could commit the incident to memory—anyone could—but her subconscious did not lend itself as faithfully to the recollection process as Sumie's did; instead, it was her capacity to accurately appraise a scene and decipher variables that had landed her the position two-thousand years ago, back when her mind had been sharp, akin to the needle of a compass drawn to some magnetic heading. But this was no longer her.

She thought as far back as written history could afford, broadly sweeping entire planes of retention for some corresponding event. Her eyes screwed shut as she threaded through the dimple of a traumatic affair, and the Taichou groaned uneasily, wanting to stop altogether; Kurisuna did not loiter about this blank, this subtle fluctuation in her temporal manifold, but nonetheless found herself aggravated by the resemblance drawn: ''A disease that strips its hosts of the human condition, thereby fundamentally remodeling them—anatomically and, of course, psychologically.''

She gave Sumie a long, meaningful look. ''I'm not about to leap to any conclusions; they, after all, are not necessarily so single-minded or resilient, but what we've witnessed is not at all unlike the inception of Hollowkind. Sumie... where did you acquire this cure?''

Shigeo had stopped by the Third Division's main building, as he'd promised Kiba he would, planning to relay to Sumie the current whereabouts and condition of his Taichou; unfortunately, he had arrived to find no sign of either her or Kurisuna, nor indeed of the majority of the division members. Supposing them to still be near the battleground, the large shinigami set off to find the wayward women at a brisk pace.

Now, Shigeo found himself midway through the Rukongai's Second District, and smack-dab in the middle of a large, noisy, nervous crowd of Rukon citizens -- citizens who had been evacuated, either by shinigami or their own sense of self-preservation, from their homes in the Third and Fourth Districts (what few still lived in that ramshackle area, anyway) during the first part of the invasion. The warrior's pale brow furrowed in annoyance at the delay, and Shigeo made a few ultimately futile attempts to push through the crowd, first by loudly announcing his position as shinigami -- which only produced a din of questions and complaints ("Where's my son, have you seen my son??" "My store took years to build, you lot best not have done anything...") -- and then actually trying to physically work his way to the other side...which only raised their ire.

Finally giving up on getting past the anxious men and women with any speed, he utilised Shunpo to take to the rooftops, circumventing the roadblock altogether and leaving the cries and worries of the citizens behind. I certainly hope Sumie and Saikokui-Taichou are still in this area, Shigeo thought darkly, or this will have been a magnificent waste of time.

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Simply because it had been an answer that Sumie was expecting, didn't mean it was an answer that she wanted to hear. Her eyes closed for a touch longer than a blink, but to her credit, she didn't sigh. The magnitude of the situation weighed heavily on the Fukutaichou now that someone else had voiced their observation and even though it was almost impossible, she moved even slower now as she headed toward the next area; the one where Kurisuna had fought alongside those of the Fourth Division.

In response to the Taichou's retaliatory question, Sumie's had drifted absently to the slight bulge in her obi where the metal box had been tucked for safe keeping. As she spoke, her voice was distant and her eyes seemed like she was looking at something far away; signs of recollecting a memory in detail that Sumie portrayed when providing a verbal playback, as if the internal narrator a reader played when engaging in a story. "I eliminated a man who was attacking an old woman. He had the symptoms of those creatures, but he was human. I was scratched as I decapitated him. My body seized up and I fell. She gave me a dose of the cure then left me with a bag of them and a note."

Sumie looked toward Kurisuna, her face tired, but her eyes not vacant and her voice reflecting the present. "One of the Third Division members has the remaining cures. We should probably have the Second Division examine them." She remembered what the assistant looked like; a common face of her division, but Sumie was awful with names if she hadn't written them down or saw them associated with the face in question.

Kurisuna was well known as a woman of visceral extremes, between the rhythmic, heavy thrumming in her veins, and perpetual state of fight-or-flight. Sumie's confession, along with the news that she'd very nearly become one of the creatures she'd set out to eradicate, really should've evoked more of a response from the Taichou, but she refrained from channeling her ire the woman's way over how she'd jeopardized her own welfare; as much as she was loathe to admit it, theirs was a vocation founded upon the pitfalls of the world at large, and she could not reasonably fault her for opposing Rukongai's aggressors.

An internal slide-show reproduced the sequence with Kiba, but featured Sumie in his stead. This exacerbated her grimace, which she'd worn callously since the transitory lapse of character back when she'd embraced her Lieutenant, and jostled her back to the physical realm. ''I don't think I need to tell you how imperative it is that we find this woman, then.'' There was the locale, gaining in scope, detail, and dynamism as the mise-en-scene for her treachery. Kurisuna just looked ahead, distant, her gaze cool and sharp as glass, unfazed by the deceit tethered to that particular site and how hauntingly she saw it spring to life.

''Someone out there is toying with us. If what you claim is true, a single individual has a great deal more insight to shed on this incident than the entire Third Division.'' She felt herself slipping, and a dark intent perverts the expression she'd held, her voice low with a controlled anger. Kurisuna stopped in her tracks. ''Knowing is our job: it's what we live for. Let me see this note.''

It had taken him some time, and left him feeling a bit weary, but Shigeo's shunpo-assisted travel finally brought him to the perimeter of Rukongai's war-torn Third District. Pausing for a moment to catch his breath, he noticed a fair number of people darting about just within the district: shinigami, likely members of the Third Division. Good; Sumie ought to still be around, as well...

Stepping forth, Shigeo cast his gaze about, finally settling on a Third Division male who had likewise noticed him. "Shigemitsu Shigeo, Eighth seat of the Fourth Division," the blond giant introduced himself curtly. "I'm bringing a message from Shuchiku Kiba-Taichou to Natsukoi Sumie; is she in the area?" Shigeo certainly hoped this man could (or would) help him; he didn't want to set off his Taichou by having to tell him that Sumie wasn't informed, and besides -- he was eager to see what Sumie could (or would) tell him about this...mess.

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The division member which Shigeo had approached was well familiar with who the man was. Aside from being a former Fukutaichou, he frequented the library often and he had also been present at Kiba's latest adventure in the Third Division. Thus he felt no issue in directing the larger man toward Sumie and Kurisuna's location. "Natsukoi-dono is investigating farther down in this district with Saikokui-taichou." He gestured in the general direction as he spoke, then added, "We're currently sectioning off areas for investigation; please avoid going through these areas until they've been marked as clear." It seemed he was finished conversing with Shigeo, and without waiting for an answer, went back to writing on a piece of parchment he had, sans ink, as his reiatsu printed his observations down just as adequately as the former could.

Meanwhile, Sumie was quirking a brow in response to Kurisuna's demand to see the note. Where had she... oh yes. "The note is currently with the rest of the initial evidence." Meaning Sumie had left it in the satchel for safekeeping. Her decision had been based on the fact that she might she combat again and risked damaging it. Not that it necessarily mattered to her, but should she be injured and unable to relay the information it held, someone else could have read it and understood what to do with the cures. Regardless, that meant she couldn't give Kurisuna what she asked for, but perhaps there was another way.

"I can tell you what it said, but if you're more interested in seeing details such as the writing, I can replicate that for you as well." After all, that was part of Sumie's job; replicating old texts so they could still be used by the younger generations. Many simply copied words down, but Sumie, with her practiced eye and hand, found it easy enough to lay the words down in the same writing the original author had, which is why she had been assigned that task long before she had been made Fukutaichou a thousand years ago.

Her disappointment was unmistakable, but it was mute, repressed. Among a slew of peculiarities that made her so cross-grained, Kurisuna was doggedly unyielding; when she asked for something, it tended to be in everyone's best interest to furnish her with the authentic entity, not a facsimile, and Kurisuna fought to convince herself that this was simply not the time and place for graphology. Finally, with a sigh, she ceded ground and resumed escorting Sumie. ''Tell me as we walk.''

It was almost exclusively a matter of pride. No sin could better catalyze the others. But could she sincerely profess love of the self when she was in flux, constantly oscillating between self-hatred and resentment for the sapient races at large? She'd lost something, something dear, and had emerged readily disposed to exercise dominion over her subordinates in diametric opposition to all she'd stood for beforehand—power was key, power was knowledge, and power was all she held. No single individual was going to wrench it from her.

And this was a problem. Because if this woman were to play her cards right, she certainly could. Between the shadows lining an investigation, everything hovered on the cusp, and these unseen factors never failed to upset and galvanize the Taichou from inaction.

Shigeo gave a quick "Thank you" to the 3rd division male, before turning in the direction the man had pointed. Taking a moment to get his bearings, the eighth seat set off once more, keeping an eye out for any of the blocks under investigation and steering quite clear of them. Wouldn't do to give anyone reason to remove me from the district.

A short time later, Shigeo's eyes narrowed, his gaze focusing on a pair of figures in the distance -- one of whom towered over the other. Knowing of only one woman in the 3rd Division with such impressive stature, and assuming that the other figure was Sumie, Shigeo picked up his pace, preemptively calling out, "Natsukoi-fukutaichou; Sakokui-Taichou! A moment, please!" He had little doubt they would recognize his voice and, indeed, his size, and they would hopefully pause to allow him to catch up.

SPOILER: Click to show

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Sumie pulled together what concentration she had left to watch Kurisuna's expression as she replied. Evaluation of the situation, among others, including the fight and scenes, would come later, but she still needed all of the imprints now. That didn't mean that Sumie didn't register Kurisuna's disappointment at the time and she was quick to note to take care with the rest of their venture. While it was true that the woman had never shown ill will to her Fukutaichou, Sumie wasn't one to take chances that involved her own well being as the stakes. Not typically anyways.

So it was with moderate haste that the shorter of the two women opened her mouth to recite what she had read just hours before. Of course the reveal of the note's contents would have to wait because a masculine voice cut across the start of Sumie's own vocal attempt. The call came from behind, and though Sumie wasn't the best auditory memory vault, decades if not centuries of encounters with the voice allowed Sumie to place it with the easiest of recall.

"Shigemitsu-san," Sumie said in a questioningly toned reply as her tracks halted fully though she had also been in the process of both turning to meet him, yet trying to obey Kurisuna's desire to walk with her to examine the scenes further and relay the information. The resulted in a slightly jerky back-step and partial pivot and Sumie's balance wavered for a moment. Her mind and her body were both tired and dealing with more stimuli than either needed at this point.

In a better state, she might have wondered why he was there. Did Kiba send him? If so, what for? However, Sumie was not thinking of such things. In fact, in the moments where there was an absence of sound, all that filled her head was the static buzz of exhaustion. Either way, Sumie knew the man would reveal his reason for being there soon enough.

Her mental faculties primed to assess the contents of Sumie's letter, Kurisuna was none too pleased to catch the voice of her former student emerging from the Lieutenant's own mouth. With the vague outline of shape, of movement, hovering in her periphery, Kurisuna belayed their advance in favor of granting Shigeo a very scant portion of their allotted time, her insides knotting together as she realized the probability that the ex-Fukutaichou had been tasked to communicate a message from Kiba's part; this summoned a preliminary wave of nausea, and gritting her teeth, Kurisuna rotated to better discern Shigeo's daunting stature.

''Shigeo-san, you'd better make this quick,'' warned the Taichou as she watched Sumie sway, a glimmer of amusement coalescing behind those detached, irradiated pools of auburn. It had occurred to her, as well, that Shigeo might've solved his quandary and deduced what madness had befallen his Captain, or simply been informed of the facts, but this was not the comportment of an explicitly apprehensive male. No matter; regardless of whether the man knew, the dissension between her and the Shuchiku had hardened like flint, and there was no turning back, not with only a single relationship worth preserving.

Shigeo pulled up a few feet short of the two women, inclining his head briefly in greeting to the pair. "As you wish, Saikokui-Taichou," he reassured the glowering redhead hastily, before turning his gaze towards Sumie."Shuchiku-Taichou bade me find you, Sumie-san. He's been escorted to the 2nd Division's headquarters for treatment on his legs; he was injured during the invasion, though I didn't see what had given him the wounds..." Trailing off, the eighth seat's brow furrowed slightly.

What had brought Kiba down? The last Shigeo had seen of his Taichou before he was injured, he was charging towards one of the few remaining behemoths, shouting for those nearby to back him up. The battlefield was chaotic, true, but the giant shinigami had noticed few other enemies nearby that could have taken down his reckless superior. Bemused, Shigeo looked to his former instructor, asking, "Saikokui-Taichou, you were in the same group as I during the fighting: did you happen to see what gave Shuchiku-Taichou his injuries?" Kurisuna was a skilled combatant, efficient and aware of her surroundings; surely she had witnessed what he had not.

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Like a rusty cog turning, Sumie's mind processed the information though the woman remained silent; it was Kurisuna that had been asked a question after all. Shigeo had only delivered Sumie a message and the Fukutaichou didn't register a need or desire to cut across the captain's would be reply. Perhaps if she were at one hundred percent she might. One could really never be too careful with such situations, but Sumie was far from connecting any dots.

She did understand that Kiba had been hurt, but at the very least, he was alive and probably receiving medical attention as they spoke. That meant he wasn't one of the foul creatures that the Shinigami and Rukon Citizens had worked at putting down. She had ranged from shock and sorrow to relief in those few seconds where Shigeo had been speaking to her, but the one thing her lack of energy provided Sumie with was an impassive face, current incapable of showing emotion across her features; an unusual thing for her because Sumie was not one of those people who was good at stopping the display of sudden emotions on command unless she was full prepared to be doing something where she knew that it would be needed. Even then, she was far from an expert.

She did manage to find the presence of mind enough, eventually, to mutter a quiet, "Thank you, Shigemitsu-san." That was the extent of her reply, spoken low enough that if Kurisuna was quicker on the uptake as Sumie undoubtedly assumed she would be, though she was not aware that Shigeo was venturing into a dangerous area, that her own comment would not interfere with whatever the taichou had to say. Still, Sumie found it odd, somewhere in the back of her mind, that Shigeo was out here asking Kurisuna what had injured Kiba when he had clearly spoken to his own superior. Why hadn't he just asked Kiba? Sumie knew how Kiba got when he was upset, but most people would probably prefer to brave his temper tantrums compared to Kurisuna's.

The faintest smile played at her lips. Oh, Shigeo. She was struck by how hysterical it all was, and thinking that she couldn't possibly be any more amused by Kiba's predicament, couldn't hope to be any more flustered by the perversities that had prompted her to act the way she had, Kurisuna realized something: he doesn't know, after all. Bless you, Shigemitsu-san; this is exactly why you were shunted to Shuchiku-Taichou's division in mine's stead, why the Third is so selective of its workforce. From the glowering, embittered pinch of her features, Kurisuna slackened to an imperious smirk before consigning her expression to stoicism--it would not do to show pleasure in front of Sumie, at least not concurrently to what was to follow.

Wordlessly, her gaze pinned to Shigeo's quizzical own, Kurisuna mutualized the understanding between them and curled her fingers around the hilt of her katana. She unsheathed it, the motion slow, tantalizing, caring to display the lustrous, metallic edge up 'til the red-tinged sword tip. ''You must mean this.'' And she'd said it so carelessly, so void of remorse. Kiba had gotten in her way, and bent dutifully over her blade, but no matter how mad, clever, or fiendishly defiant she felt, Kurisuna couldn't be brought to look at Sumie.

Shigeo's bemusement only grew as Kurisuna's usually cold, hard visage softened slightly to show a lopsided grin for but an instant, before all emotion was wiped away; however, the brief expression only served to generate unease. The giant's discomfort grew as his former swordmaster locked her eyes on his and slowly, ever so gradually, drew forth her blade. The sight almost had Shigeo going for his own weapon on instinct -- indeed, his hand twitched slightly towards its wrapped hilt; stopping himself just as the motion began, he chided himself for the hasty action. You've no reason to get so jumpy. She's just...

Just what? What reason could she have to display her zanpakutou? How will doing so answer your question? This second thought interrupted his first, its origin unknown. Shigeo was displeased to find that he had no answers for these questions. Or none he wanted to consider.

''You must mean this.'' The eighth seat's eyes swept along the exposed blade's length, lingering on the crimson-hued steel near its tip. For several long moments, his mind failed, refused, to grasp her meaning, and then...Oh. Now he saw. Now he understood. There hadn't been any of the infected by Kiba, after all, just...

The woman's tone was what really gave Shigeo pause: complete and utter indifference. The Taichou seemed to carry no guilt whatsoever about what she had done. I...see. Is this what my friend has truly become? She had changed, true, since the death of her children -- become more distant, colder; this, however, was a jigokuchou of a different color. Sorrow, confusion, and anger swept across Shigeo's features before he settled on a placid expression similar to Kurisuna's own. His hands curled into loose fists at his sides, he said slowly, "...I see. And your...your reasons, Saikokui-Taichou? Why?" Whatever they were, he did not think they would keep her from suffering the consequences of her actions.

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Unpredictable was a word that could easily be applied to Kurisuna because of the deterioration of her moral compass over the years. Sumie was all too aware of it and others, such as Shigeo, Kiba, and perhaps even Malik, had surely noticed, but Sumie had spent the most time with the woman and had come to expect certain reactions and even incidents to a degree so that it was rare when Kurisuna responded or did something out of Sumie's range of imagination for the taichou. However, this was one of those moments.

Her exhaustion dulled eyes followed the sword as it was drawn and put on display. In Sumie's current state, pieces of the puzzle didn't simply fall into place as they might have normally; they had after all been in the process of slaying a wave of enemies, so the blood didn't represent anything to the Fukutaichou on its own besides the encounter with the horde. Even Kurisuna's own words, an admission of sorts, settled into the fog of Sumie's mind without fully penetrating into the veil of understanding. No, it was not until Shigeo's inquiry that Sumie understood.

There was no attempt on her part to try and meet the captain's eyes to verify if what was being said, or implied, was true. Not that it would have mattered with Kurisuna so resolutely avoiding Sumie's face. It was because of that reason that the taller woman would miss Sumie's eyes rolling back for a split second before snapping shut and her figuring crumpling to the ground. Sumie simply didn't have the energy left to deal with the magnitude of the situation. Her mind in the moments before the blackout was a swirling vortex of twisted paths that she couldn't see the outcome of and it scared her. She had worked very hard to try and hold things together in the Third Division in an attempt to restore them to the way it once was, a happier time, a time where she didn't have to live in denial, which was perhaps the only way Sumie had held it together herself over the years.

She could hear it in his voice. There was an unspoken affliction that had not totally made it into the blond's wretched, inculpatory tones. It was a crumpling of the soul akin to the disclosure of a terminal diagnosis; you could impair the progression of an illness, but there was ultimately no treatment, no panacean cure-alls to make better a passing preordained by the fates. Her eyes sharpened. ''Shigemitsu-san, if you wish to solicit answers, I suggest you harass Shuchiku-Taichou some more instead of obstructing this investigation.''

She sheathed the blade back into its scabbard by rote, damning the cardinal impulse to teach Shigeo a memorable lesson--people did not talk to her in such a fashion, let alone with a drawn sword, and she would not deign consider him an exception under proper circumstances. But it was rare for the stars to align just right, so impeccably that she acted out the way she had with Kiba, and the raw, unvarnished fact of the matter was that she'd been content watching the bright sparks about her grow dark and dim.

Again she saw his skin split like the bruised rind of a passion fruit, red, ugly and symbolic of treason. Oh, and how his body had seized, that too had tickled all the right receptors, but had she really intended to infect Kiba and jeopardize her relationship with Sumie? Sumie...

A newness, an unfamiliarity descended upon her from the mundane cue of something large and heavy falling to the ground. It was not unlike the sound of dropped tomes, her mind reconciled. But this was no written work. This was her Lieutenant, overwhelmed and exhausted, curled against the unforgiving stone like a wilted flower, petals plucked from her mortal shell. The shock was immediate. It stalled her hand a few seconds.

''Sumie!'' Kurisuna fell to her knees. Her heart lumbered rapidly beneath a capsule of organs, and her pupils expanded, opalescent with abject horror. ''Sumie, it's all right. Kiba's fine. You'll see him soon!'' She, too, was as world-weary as the woman whose legs she cradled upon her lap to correct the syncope, and a derisive look flashed across her face as she swerved to regard Shigeo: she was blaming him. ''Get out. Out. OUT.''

The biting retort issued by Kurisuna did little to improve Shigeo's mood. The way she avoided -- no, ignored his question didn't help either. The seated officer's neutral expression slipped for a moment to let his rising anger show through, a glower crossing his features. "I intend to ask Shuchiku-Taichou some questions as well, but right now, I would like an answer, Saikokui-Taichou," he said slowly, squeezing the words out past gritted teeth.

His behavior towards the infamously volatile woman would probably come back later (or perhaps in the immediate future) to bite him in the ass, but right now, that was the least of Shigeo's concerns. Kurisuna had performed a decidedly treasonous act, and though he really should just do as she had said and go "harass Shuchiku-Taichou," have him form a force to detain the remorseless swordswoman...he couldn't. Not just yet. Despite everything, some small part of him wanted to hear her give a reason, an excuse even, for her actions. A foolish hope that she would absolve herself, show herself to still be, in part at least, the same woman Shigeo had befriended centuries ago? Perhaps.

A sudden and loud 'thud' drew Shigeo's gaze away from Kurisuna, the male's bemusement apparent in his visage; it quickly turned to shock, as he spotted Sumie's crumpled form. "What the hell?" Shigeo started to step forward, intending to check on the petite woman's condition much as Kurisuna was doing; he froze on the spot, however, at the latter's abrupt and ferocious demands that he leave. For a few seconds, Shigeo hesitated, watching the nigh-hysterical Taichou's attempts to rouse and comfort her subordinate. Finally, he inclined his head somewhat jerkily, stating, "Forgive me, Saikokui-Taichou; this conversation will have to be finished later." Stepping back and turning away from the two third division women, Shigeo left the scene in a hurry, having obtained but a single dismaying answer to his many questions about the morning's events.

[exit]

Had she been lucid, had she cared enough to invest in Shigeo more than a minuscule fraction of the scrutiny she paid Sumie, Kurisuna might've told the ex-Lieutenant otherwise, that their conversation wouldn't continue, that she had had enough for the day and refused to revisit it. But as he left, the attention she spared him was minimal—she had jerked her head back to her Fukutaichou obsessively, and he had been wise not to distract her. She had drawn blade and blood more often than the event had called for.

She clung—affectionately—to the surge of panic, and rode the swell, the waves, and their concentric ripples. A moment elapsed, and Kurisuna came to terms with the fact that raising Sumie's legs had failed to course-correct her loss of consciousness. Had it truly been shock, then, that had done her in? Worse yet, how had she fallen?

Kurisuna was suddenly aware of a presence. She recognized the man among her own division. He had stolen across long shadows like a thief in the night, and from that peculiarity, that furtive mode of operation, Kurisuna knew the squad he belonged to. ''Get the medics. Tell them Natsukoi-Fukutaichou has fainted from exhaustion.'' A nod of the head, and the figure, reduced to a mere silhouette, scattered to alert the 2nd.

''I told you you're overworked.'' And she waited. Waited for the moment to slip by in the discordant staccato of time's irregular thrumming, warping seconds to minutes. Gingerly, she'd taken Sumie's hand in her own, not knowing whether the woman would accept her company or wrench her slender digits free of hers upon rousing. Her fingers tightened. There had always been an alluring quality to the defenseless.

When the medics arrived, advancing in tandem to the professional march of those accustomed to running swiftly with a stretcher in tow, Kurisuna supervised their efforts to transport a non-ambulatory Sumie where she could recover. For better or for worse, it was her intention to accompany the Lieutenant; her division could handle the episode without further guidance for the time being.

[exit with Sumie]

SPOILER: Click to show

Thread is ended and locked, point distribution is as follows:

Sumie - 8 + 1 = 9

Kurisuna - 9 + 1 = 10

Shigeo - 6

Points to be added momentarily.