It is the 21st of July, year 2000 of the New World. The sky is clear, devoid of any clouds and the weather very warm, hot even. The time is around 2-3 pm and the sun is high up in the sky, mercilessly striking the surface of the earth with its rays. The light is not too strong but the day is warm enough by itself, and so many have been forced to stay under the shade.

Still, the District is not lacking activity in the least. While few street-merchants and peddlers seem to want to work in this kind of weather, many have seized the opportunity for a stroll. As such, the streets have quite a lot of activity. Some people are visiting small stands for food, others tea-shops for a cup of cool tea. There are those who have gone out shopping for clothes and tools, and some are just walking around aimlessly. Indeed, the District feels far from empty - just lazier, slower, more lethargic. Nobody is in a hurry this day, and nobody seems to feel like being in a hurry.

It is today that Aoyama Ryōichi, the still newly-appointed 5th Seat of the Fourth Division, has been allowed to take a break. Seeing today's weather as an opportunity, he has walked out of the walls of Seireitei and into the streets of Rukongai. He has no plans for the moment, and so he is among those who wander without a purpose.

As this is a day off, he has opted for something a lot more casual than the shinigami's shihakusho - a kimono and simple sandals. The kimono reaches just above his ankles and, while seemingly tight, doesn't restrict his movements. The colour is a dark shade of blue. It has an elegant pattern, made from many small flowers. If one were to look closely enough, they could realize that the flowers form the vague shape of a chinese dragon wrapping itself around the man. He hasn't left his weapon however. His zanpakutō is resting in its sheath, ready to be drawn just in case.

While one might find this particular day as a way to skip routinely duties, others had the luxury, safe to say, to travel around. If one claimed to be on patrol, it was easy to persuade another, stricter soul to disperse off his or her back. Ume was fond of doing that sometimes - to take surveillance rounds along the districts of the Rukongai - even when she was off duty. Perhaps not as antisocial as she always claimed to be, she enjoyed the company, or at the very least the scenery of the hustle and bustle of the streets. Many who staid indoors or inside the gates of the Seireitei often forgot the beauty of the Rukongai. Even the desolate-ness of the fourth district had some qualities to offer!

The woman who wasn't the biggest fan of hot climates and temperatures, happened to be right dab in the middle of the warmest hour of the day, seeking the shade of the tents; while her orange-pumpkin hues surveyed each and every stock of what the merchant had to offer. It was also another fun, yet trivial thing to do: browse the wares of the shop-keeps, occasionally buying but more-so window shopping. By now, Ume was relatively known for her treks to the Rukongai, though usually she faced the citizens with hardly any negative criticism. She often despised how she couldn't save everyone, or the current living conditions of the fourth. Secretly, it irked her, and some of the rukon-folk were bluntly honest to share, too, their feedback.

Lately, Tachibana-Taichou was growing rather lax with her line of work. She couldn't quite explain, perhaps unaware, but there was something off about her; unnoticeable to most, as of now, like an ant-like speck steadily but slowly growing, gradually going to accumulate as something massive, something to be noticed. But, enough about that!

Purchasing an iced, cooled-down tea, Ume handed the merchant her dues, to which she then stalked along other stands, her eyes meticulously trailing along each item. Barely viewable, was the frequent pull-down of the fabric shielding her face, allowing the woman to sip on the chilled beverage; her outfit casually 'Shinigami', to fit in with the crowd on this summer day. She wore a short, black hakama-esque bottom, which reached down along the middle of her thigh, exposing those milky-white legs to the harmful rays of the sun. It looked similar to a skirt, however underneath they were actually shorts. Her lean figure was more out in the open, suffice to say, as she wore a longer sleeved-Shinigami-top that shielded her arms, adorning a white obi around the waste, followed by a periwinkle-colored obijime that knotted at her midsection. Adorning comfortable, black flats, Ume was semi-dressed appropriately, her Haori the usual crop-top jacket that hung against her apparel. Her hair was let down, freely flowing along her shoulders and swaying with each light, gentle step; the shade of purple glittering and light with highlights against the sun.

Almost hiding her face from view, given the raised hands to her face and the glass of iced tea, Ume halts for a brief moment at a fan vendor; her watchful eyes taking in the intricate detail to each design. However, she would be aloof, almost oblivious to one's approach, given her attention was elsewhere, currently.

Despite the impending heat and sunburn against her alabaster complexion, today seemed like a beauty day!

Summertime was finally here, and Sengoku welcomed it with open arms. A few days under the hot sun had darkened his skin into a deep caramel color, making his green eyes stand out even more as he strolled through the shops and markets. He was dressed for the weather, dispersing with his usual garments in favor of a white, sleeveless Kosode, and loose fitting gray hakame, all made of a very light cotton. His axe was in its usual place on his belt, and he had replaced his typical boots for sandals. Even with all these efforts, sweat still glistened on his brow and arms. He smiled and waived to anyone who met his eyes, simply out for a stroll to enjoy the nice weather.

After a while, he found himself at a stall. A small, older woman was peddling fruit juice, tea, and other drinks kept cool by a prodigious amount of ice, provided, it seemed, by a much younger man standing nearby. He seemed to be creating the stuff with a special ability of some sort, while another man smashed it into more manageable chunks with a wooden mallet. Sengoku ordered a cup of tart, freshly squeezed apple juice, paid, and then found himself a shady place to sit. He stretched out his long legs, sipped his drink, and closed his eyes, basking in the warm summer day. It was a damn good day for it, to be sure.

The man comes to a stop in front of a small tea stand. A simple counter made from wood, covered by a small tent made out of white wool. At least, white was the colour when it was first sown - now it is a little yellow in colour, and with several smudges of dirt here and there. There are no chairs on the outside, for it is clearly not meant for people to sit there - just to grab their beverage and go on their merry ways. The owner, a middle-aged dark-coloured man with a developing bald-spot and an unshaven beard is sitting on the only chair behind the stand. He looks tired, probably from all of the work and the heat, which explains why he has help today; a young-looking female, possibly his daughter age-wise.

The two visibly tense up as soon as they notice Ryōichi; the man motions to the girl and she quickly comes to ask their customer about what he would like. This is not surprising, it isn't the first time people act this way when interacting with him. As shopkeepers, they have to treat their clients with at least a modest amount of respect. The Shinigami however has a way of enhancing that even further. It is his features, he thinks; Long dark and straight hair, thin eyes as black as coal, a complexion that manages to remain relatively fair no matter how much he stays outside and, last but not least, his serious expression. Though, of course, there are always those who manage to stay relaxed even with him around. Secretly he is grateful for the existence of those people, even if he doesn't mind being treated with respect from time to time.

Selecting his beverage takes a full 2 minutes, mostly due to the large variety of teas that are being served today. Most probably in conjuction with the nearby fruit-juice peddler, one can add quite some things in their tea; sugar, apple juice, grape juice, lemon juice, peach juice and so on. While at first he conciders taking a simple tea with nothing in it, in the end he decides to add some lemon juice in it to make it more refreshing. He even gets a slice of lemon on the rim of the cup, just for show. After handing in the required fee and giving the two a short, respectful nod he goes off to stare at the wares of the shops.

Soon enough he comes to a stop in front of a shop that is selling ceramic wares that just so happens to stand close to the fan vendor. Several plates, cups and all manner of tools and trinkets rest there for any curious soul to inspect. None of them are expensive things, but each one holds a unique beauty of its own - as far as he is concerned at least. He sips his iced tea as his eyes come to rest on a specific painted cup made out of red clay. His thin eyes narrow a little as he inspects the drawings on it. He doesn't notice the woman standing a few meters to his right yet.

Her free hand briefly descends so that her slender, feminine fingers could grasp a fan to which her eyes deemed interesting and beautiful; although, the beholder of those pumpkin-tinged orbs thought each and every one had something special, something delicately admirable. Her mask lifted to conceal her lower face, drink-hand settling to her waist, Ume mutters softly and kindly, "You've made these? Such elegance... I think they're all lovely." She averts her gaze, oculars gleaming and sparkling with an indiscreet gentleness, her cheek bones rising and indicating that she was, in fact, smiling; and quite brightly, one could add. Her eyes and brow curved, squinted and eventually closed to accentuate the smile and politeness Ume radiantly casts off in an aura; her temperament obviously chipper and lively. The vendor, a middle-aged woman, beamed brightly as she stood behind the wooden counter as her young daughter peered at Ume shyly from the corner; her large orbs observing Ume cautiously as any child would before deciding whether or not the stranger could be trusted. "Thank you, miss Taichou." The woman spoke softly, patting her child's back reassuringly.

Ume's eyes reopened, taking in the oriental-esque fan, which contained shades of sea green, blue, indigo and everything between. With a flick of her wrist, a little push of her digits against the base of the fan, it sprung open and widened to it's full capacity, shielded the lower portion of her face. Abruptly, however, Ume inspected it's fanning ability, seemingly pleased with the result. On such a hot day like this, she felt the need to indulge in items like a brisk, iced-tea and fan. Maybe, just maybe, she would also check out the umbrellas if they were in stock and being sold on this hot, summer day.

Perhaps the more important question was: Shouldn't a change of clothes be in order? At this very moment, however, Ume was content with her choice in clothes and selection of purchased goods. Ume closed the fan with another motion of her hand, placing the fan for a brief minute or two to collect enough gold; unaware of the fellow Shinigami close by and not in uniform, no less.

Sengoku rested for a while, drinking slowly. The cold liquid brought relief to the heat, making him smile and relax. He looked about the other stalls, observing the other people in the marketplace. Eventually, his eyes fell upon a set of familiar features: purple hair, pumpkin orange eyes. No mistaking it, that was Ume. He grinned and rose to his feet, sauntering across the street before plopping down on the seat next to her. "You seem to spend an awful lot of time around here, Taichou-sama."

Ryōichi blinks once as he hears someone speaking rather loudly. No, it is two people in succession that use the same word;'Taichou'. A captain of one of the Divisions is nearby and he didn't even notice?! Well...those are some very nice cups, so him being distracted so much might be more excusable. Anyways, that doesn't matter at the moment.

He throws a glance to his right and spots the much shorter purple-haired female standing in front of a fan vendor. An odd colour, it stands out quite a bit now that he is taking a good look at it. He can't see the woman's face due to her mask, but the haori that she wears is an unmistakeable proof of her rank. He even makes out the colour of her number, though just barely - Fifth Division. As such he is standing next to the captain of the 5th Division. He is pretty sure he has heard her name somewhere, but can't remember it right now. It was probably a long time ago and just briefly. So, how exactly does he approach this person of high-rank?

Simple; he approaches her naturally, just like everyone else. Judging from her relaxed stance she is also taking it easy today. If they are both off duty -regardless of their current choice of garments- then there is no reason for formalities. At least not for anything that lies beyond what he considers 'normal' and 'expected' when meeting a person for the very first time. Slowly but surely, he fully turns towards her.

"I was not expecting to stumble upon another shinigami so soon, much less the Taichou of the Fifth Division. It is good to meet you." he says with a cool voice before adding a small bow of the head. He doesn't introduce himself yet, giving the woman some time to fully focus her attention on him. Besides, it is rude to talk too much without even giving the other individual enough time to decide if they even want to talk at all. After all, she may not be in the mood - everyone has those days every now and then, and they don't have to barricade themselves inside of their homes to show that.

After her purchase, she wandered a bit to then settle upon a bench, only to smile when she was approached by Sengoku. Grumbling, due to how she was referred, she then snickers gleefully, despite her utter loathing of any heat. "You know I don't like being called that, at least by friends, Sengoku." She mutters, orange oculars trailing his frame for a brief moment before taking a sip of her deliciously crisp and cold drink. She wondered if he, by any chance, was hot in his attire, simply! Black, surely, was not the best choice... what were the Gotei thinking with the uniform design?!

Pondering for just a casual second and pushing his address aside, Ume shrugs gently in a wave-like gesture. "Well, you know how much I enjoy the Rukongai. This is my home too, you know... or at least was..." A smile tugs upon her full, salmon-colored lips, fabric removed from the lower half of her visage. Then, with a flicker of her wrist, she summons the fan; proceeding to motion and extend-flex her wrist to produce some fanning power upon her face. Releasing a sight of content - for now, at least - Ume's orbs avert to the approaching figure, a man who was recently near her proximity when shopping. Placing her drink aside on the wooden arm of the bench, the captain outreaches her free appendage for a introductory hand-shake. "Ume. Tachibana, Ume; but you can call me Ume. And you are?" She asks, tilting her head; a glint and twinkle of her eyes feigning some sort of curiosity - or was it bewilderment? It was safe to say that Ume faced some sort of surprise at this new contacting Shinigami, who advanced toward the two idly sitting about. She wasn't rude to turn down anyone, although the female was quite the introvert... majority of the time. Hailing for his name, Ume expected a polite response, given his nod and gentle sense of position.

Sengoku gave her a warm smile and shrugged, sipping his drink. "Just trying to be as proper as possible. How would your subordinates feel if the caught a trashy Rukon like myself being so frank with their captain?" Sengoku was, of course, anything but trashy. Hard working, respectful when he felt it was called for, and good natured, he embodied the best the Rukongai had to offer. That he was no slouch when it came to killing hollows didn't hurt is reputation either. His willingness to plunge head long into a good fight may have left some folks with the wrong impression, but Sengoku wasn't bothered by that in the lease. "It's fun to tease, Ume, nothing more." He raised an eyebrow as a reaper he didn't recognize approached them. "Looks like we have some company." He muttered, loud enough to be heard by Ume, but softly enough to be ignored by everyone else. While the lad introduced himself, and Ume did the same, Sengoku kept his mouth shut and leaned his head back, closing his eyes and letting the heat of the day and the light of the sun work its way under his skin.

The casually clothed shinigami let a tiny little smile form on his, usually passive, face. It wasn't anything grand or overly wide, nothing too attention grabbing. Quite the opposite as a matter of fact, for it was quite hard for someone to catch even if they were standing close to him. Eyebrows unmoving, cheekbones unyielding, only the very corners of his mouth dare betray his good mood with two light, gentle and barely visible upward turns. His relaxed stance on the other is much more noticeable and easy to catch on to, especially for those who don't know him well and could therefore not spot the tiny little smile.

"My name is Aoyama Ryōichi, currently the Fifth Seat of the Fourth Division, and you may call me however you wish. It is good to meet you, Ume, as well as you sir." he says politely, giving another small bow of the head to the Rukon whom he hasn't been acquainted with yet. His stance shows complete and total relaxation, not one bit of discomfort showing. This man, it seems, has no beef to pick with any of the Rukon folk - and neither with hot weather, which as has been told before, he actually enjoys. Indeed, those who can read emotions better through body language than through facial expressions should have an easier time readying him - at least in this particular case.

"Lovely day, don't you think so as well?" he says as nonchalantly as he can, though he can't help but keep a tiny little hint of a respectful undertone to his voice. It is just who he is, and doesn't necessarily have to do with Ume's rank - though if she spots this she may happen to think otherwise.

Truly offended by his statement, she scoffed, "You are far from trashy... You're more... rugged." She playfully punches at his shoulder, scrunching her pale, dainty face. It wasn't right, considering there were many good people within the Rukongai. Heck, each 'organization,' or region, as it were, had their own good and horrible people. Unfortunately, there were some negative people within the Gotei as there were in the Rukongai, and even the hollow had some nicer creatures. One never knew, basically, the nature of another and to make assumptions was both foolish and life-threatening.

She understood that teasing was all well and fun, sticking her tongue out slightly before opening her maw to take another sip of her chilled tea. Greeted by the newcomer, Ume remained ever so polite and kind, although his expression seemed rather blank and dull. Unaware of his demeanor, the woman with purple hair and unique eyes remained clueless to his hardly noticeable smile. That wasn't going to deter her patience and tolerance. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ryōichi." She nudges Sengokue as she mutters her words, aiming to encourage his own introduction.

While the man seemed relaxed, she thought him to be quite proper, indeed. She found it rather ironic, considering the Captain of the fourth division and his unorthodox methods; not to say she didn't have strange lessons or teachings, unconventional ways to handling situations. To each it's own, or whatever.

"I actually prefer the cooler days... Summer isn't my favorite time of the year. Too hot, too sunny... My skin doesn't fair well. Though, I'd have to say it's a day for relaxation." She chuckles, though shakes her head, obviously on duty and dreading every second of it. Soon, she'd have to return to her duties.

Ume's punch made him grin and roll his eyes, and he returned his attention to the stranger before them. When the man introduced himself, Sengoku gave him a polite node and sipped his drink. The two shinigami made idle chit-chat about the weather, and Sengoku kept his mouth shut. No point in inserting himself in business that wasn't his own, especially if that business was Shinigami business. Sengoku slouched a little, throwing a lazy air about himself. The warm sun made it easy, almost too easy, and he nearly started to doze until Ume's voice snapped him back to attention.

"The winters are worse. Cold, wet, miserable...shrivels you up inside and makes you unwilling to go anywhere or do anything." He popped his neck and set his empty drink cup on a nearby table. "At least I can get shit done in the summer." He was watching the streets now, studying the folks strolling by, as if trying to discern their purpose. Much more likely, he was looking for anyone acting suspiciously or breaking any of the Rukongai's few laws.

He stood there, loosely analyzing the individuals that currently occupied the greater space of his periphery with a cool and non-chalant stare. Ume, the Taicho of the 5th Division, currently in the uniform that symbolized her authority and status. Generally relaxed, but also seemingly reserved. She didn't look too friendly, but she didn't look too hostile either. A...more or less neutral state, as far as her way of treating him went by, at least. He was satisfied with how things went, in his eyes Ume was the sort of person who didn't hesitate to be open and friendly with others, if her attitude towards the Rukon introduced as Sengoku went by. Yes, very lax and laid back. At the same time however, she was measuring him up, not instantly dropping her guard or being overly friendly and familiar with him. Maybe she was just careful with who she made connections with, maybe she was an individual who liked to analyze others first before deducing if they had the proper chemistry with her in order to be friends. That was fine. Or maybe she was someone who refrained from being too friendly with people she just met, in an attempt to be polite. That was fine too. All in all, the woman had a likeable personality, and a way of conversing that he could relate with.

Sengoku on the other hand, was a little more clear and easy to read. Open, sociable, talkative - but only when he deduced that he could afford to be. Not hostile against the dwellers of Seireitei, but not instantly friendly with them either. Calm and pleasant, an individual who preferred to speak with someone face to face before forming an opinion, and also someone who preferred to just be himself. In a way, from what little he had seen, maybe this Sengoku was the general embodiment of all the things that were good about the Rukongai - or at least most of them. He was also very likeable from what he could deduce, seemingly the kind of person you would like to stand next to besides a stream, lazily talking about the weather while eating snacks, sipping tea/alcohol and fishing. Maybe he would ask him to do just that one day, if the Rukon wasn't planning to give him some unexpected and unsavoury surprises. If his hunch was right however, -and he hoped that it was- no such incidents would take place.

All in all, he was liking them both so far. The beginning of two potentially wonderful friendships? He could only hope so at this point.

"In my own humble opinion, each season has its own advantages and disadvantages to offer, so which is considered to be better has to do with personal preference. Each one plays its own role in the circle of life and nature, in order to maintain the balance. Summer, the time of warmth and growth. Spring, the time of birth. Autumn, the time of 'retirement' as I like to say, and Winter, the time of rest that precedes the time of birth. Personally, I find myself partial to some of the charms of each. The calm of Winter and the snow. The colourful leaves of Autumn. The joyful flowering of spring. The warm and slightly lethargic nature of summer. I can find ways to enjoy myself in all occasions, though I will admit that Summer offers a few more...freedoms that I happen to prefer. Still, I wouldn't dare wish that it be Summer all year around." he said in a pleasant, and far more lax tone. Well, not exactly lax, not too obviously at least. Still, the initial layer of obligatory politeness was slowly being shed, giving room to the gentle serenity that oh-so-expertly liked to hide underneath his generally 'stiff' exterior. He took a small sip from his cup, his sharp and dark eyes momentarily closing in content.

"I love how the winter's so crisp, and so long as you're bundled up, should be enjoyable. Fires also to bring a cuddling warmth. Although, I don't suppose summer is that bad. Spring and fall are far more delightful, fall being my favorite, weather-wise." Wrist flickers and rotates, rolling the created wind toward her neck, which slightly dripped with sweat as they hid underneath the shade of a tree. Her words as optimistic and friendly as Ryouichi's statement, aiming to not reject another's belief, but to simply make known of her own. Escaping from pursed, salmon-pink lips, Ume expelled a sigh of relief, downing the remainder of her chilled ice tea, not quite uncomfortable with the company. Sengoku, a dearly-close friend, was an expected company for her around the Rukongai, especially when either of the two had the free time to laze about and reconnect on a more-than-acquaintance level. There were but a select few whom surpassed the level of coworker and ally, who were all dubbed the title of close friend: and Sengoku was one of them.

Nodding soft, she'd let an inquiry surface, "Care to join us for a bit, Ryouichi?" Exhaling an immeasurable amount of air, mainly a huff in jest of the heat and 'burning' rays of the sun, Ume asked politely and kindly, aiming to be neither rude nor overly friendly, as if gauging the man with a stern, stiff face had the potential to be anything more than a comrade or acquaintance.

Sengoku zoned out for a little bit, people-watching. He wasn't really interested in the newcomer, indifferent to the man's existence, really. It wasn't a matter of dislike, or simply being rude, but rather that he just had nothing to say. The weather didn't interest him, and Shinigami business was Shinigami business. His drink was soon empty, and he found himself completely lost in the conversation, so he kept his mouth shut and waited until someone addressed him, or brought up something worth talking about. His pragmatism and quiet nature didn't exactly lend themselves to friend-making, and this was certainly no exception. He stretched and yawned a little, tilted his head back, and went on cloud gazing. Someone would rope him back in eventually.

"Autumn? You have rare tastes, Ume-san. I know of people who love the snowy nights of winter, the flowery fields of spring, and the blazing sun of summer - but those who like autumn, and for its weather nonetheless, not many. Most see the grey skies and the gradually lowering temperatures to simply be...dull, uninviting, uninspiring. Maybe lethargic, even, though people do tend to like the sight of colourful dry leaves dancing in the wind. I remember when I was a child, we all loved gathering up piles of leaves and just diving into them. As for now...lets just say the sight of a grown swordsman performing such antics is not charming, not like it is for a youngster." he said fluently, his words passing through his lips with greater and greater ease as time went by. Maybe at that moment it would start to become apparent, that small fact - he was a lot more friendly and willing to converse with others than he initially looks like.

"As for joining you two....yes, I would like that very much. Provided that Sengoku-san doesn't wish to talk with you about private matters. I will understand and will not be offended, just blame the unfortunate outcome to improper timing from my part." he said, gently rolling his cup around, as if it was a glass of wine - a small gesture that he tended to do from time to time, though not to the point of it being a tick of sorts. It was just something stuck from his early childhood, back when he would pour juice into his cup and roll it around like that, pretending it was some sort of expensive liquor and believing himself to look 'classy'. Those were much simpler times. He wouldn't dwell on the past however, not for that moment at least, as he proceeded to patiently wait for Sengoku's possible permission, stance both relaxed and regal.

Recollections of the past spiraling inside the confines of her imaginative mind, it was hard to stifle a giggle at the vivid thought of a grown man engaging in such childish antics. Ume's lips curved into a wide, almost grinning smile, reminded of her own youth... "My father would always play with me in the leaves... I had no siblings or friends my age, but he didn't seem to care about how silly he probably looked." She mutters happily, eyes in a daze of remembrance as she glanced superficially at the crowds of people, unintentionally and unconsciously leaning against Sengoku just a tad as she entered this 'trance-like' state. Unaware of what she was doing outside of the replaying memory, Ume was unable to shake the picture of her father's bright, sunset-oculars and his goofy, sheepish grin and the similar, plastered expression upon her own visage. She really needed to visit that man...

What struck deeper to the core was her mother's calm and warmly-tender smile as she leaned upon the doorway, gazing at her two loves, content and simply living in the moment. To possess those rare, occasional moments of recollection really upset her, and yet... it inspired and soothed her knowing that her mother always seemed happy, at least up until her life was cut short. It was those distant dreams that would reinvigorate her cause, fuel her to keep walking in stride; to walk along the path of life casually and live solely in the moment. Which, come to think of it, would probably justify why she always arrived to gatherings and meetings fashionably late...

Still, while she lived for a longer period of time than most, Ume clung to her physical and spiritual youth, never really following in her parents' footsteps with settling down and raising a family. While it certainly was something she often thought about, it never dawned upon her that she needed another half to make the equation whole, meaningful. She had a noble and mature disposition that could probably rival that of an elder, middle-aged soul and a friendly aura, but there was this hesitancy from her upbringing that made her incapable to even fathom it. How could she do that to her own kin? To leave them in the wake of their growth and development without a mother? That entirely, was something Ume could never do...

Stuck in her own pondering trap, she likely looked either psycho-crazy and silly as she stared into oblivion. What would Ryouichi think, to see two souls kind of zone out and lost in silence? Would Sengoku respond? Were these really the cuckoo kind of friends Ryouichi aimed to make?

Sengoku was snapped back into the present by the conversation, and the feeling of Ume leaning against him. He smiled a little at the thought of her and her father pouncing through the leaves. Sengoku enjoyed autumn, but for wholly different reasons. Autumn had meant warm nights around the fire with his grandparents while his mother and father prepared dinner. Autumn had meant helping his father set up the distilling equipment for the various liquors, sampling the beers and ales with his grandfather, helping his mother and grandmother stock the cellars. There were other things that happened in autumn, each one the result of any number of precious memories.

One stood out most vividly in his mind, a recollection that he cherished. "When I was a boy, maybe two, three hundred years ago, my dad taught me how to hunt." He adjusted his position a little, mindful of Ume, a wistful grin on his face. "Snares, pitfalls, tracking...my old man knew it all." Sengoku had been an eager student. The boy had worshiped the ground his father walked on, and his dad had not disappointed. "Getting up early, slipping out of the house before the sun was even up; We never even minded the cold. We'd walk out into the Second District, set up a tent, and work from there. He taught me how to use his bow, damn thing was impossible to pull." Sengoku wasn't prone to sharing, but it seemed better than sitting in silence. He'd played in the leaves when he was smaller, but those memories didn't mean as much to him as these. Now that his family was gone, the time they'd spent together was all he had left. "We'd always butcher whatever we caught then and there, wrap the meat up, and then haul it back to the tavern. We'd hunt from when the leaves turned to when the first snows fell. At night, we'd hang the meat up in the barn, salted and seasoned, and let it dry out, then freeze. Rabbit, Venison, Boar...saved us a lot of coin and kept food in our bellies."

Ryōichi was not a sentimental person - at least, not vocaly. He had his own spouts of reminiscing days of long ago, back when life was a lot more simple and easy to figure out. Back when his biggest problem was having his least favourite food for lunch, or getting scolded for misbehaving. Back then there were no Hollows, no Shinigami, no crime, no violence, no fear of death or hunger or disease. The future was never further away than a single day, for the next day was the only 'future' he would ever worry about. It was pure and peaceful ignorance, innocence at its most undilluded degree - almost to the point that it was sinful. He was once a child, like everyone whose childhoods had not been cruely torn away before they could even experience them. Like everyone, he would occasinally yearn for those days, wish he could just go back and simply forget about everything. If that could happen, he would be able to let others dirty their hands, detain their fellow kinsmen, suspect treachery amongst their friends, possibly even kill people. If only for a single day that could be done, he was certain that many people wished for such a thing.

But that was not possible. Yesterday would never come back and tomorrow could never be predicted. There is only the present, what you choose to do now with your own two hands, and your own latest breath. The world couldn't be protected by abstract thoughts, by daydreaming, by sentimentalities, but by actions and choices. Choices that could bring either salvation or ruin, for yourself or for others. Choices that could have you sacrifice some of your own innocence, so that other's innocence could be left intact, even if only for one more day. For that was the current 'truth' of the world, as accepted by most adults.

Fortunately for him however, it didn't seem like this day would be such a day. No sacrifices, difficult choices or life-defining events. Today was a day for him, and those around him, to be absent-minded, lazy, possibly even a little psycho-crazy and silly looking. While younger than many, he had seen enough to know and appreciate such days, and as a result he would not be affected negatively by Ume's way of acting - or Sengoku's, granted.

"It almost feels like an eternity ago, when my mother would tell me to wash my hands before sitting down for lunch, or to wash my feet before entering the house after a day of running through the fields. I still remember the first time I taste-tested one of my father's 'experiments'; I get goosebumps whenever I remember how horrible it was." he said, this time not bothering to mask the tone of nostalgia under a veil of politeness and neutrality. The part about the goosebumps even had a slightly humorous tone to it, or at least that was the attempt. He was not good at pulling jokes off, but he should be able to do at least that one small thing - or so he thought. The others would be the judge of that.

While nice to enjoy the company of friends old and new, Ume had her duties to attend to. Slowly sprouting up, as if to warn Sengoku that she was no longer to be leaning against him slightly, the female with violet-purple tresses stood in front of the two. She pivoted to face them both, giving a soft flicker with her wrist, hand twisting and swaying in a wave farewell. "Forgive me, both, but I actually have to work today. It was nice to take a breather, especially with this heat!" She snickered bemusedly, breeze upon breeze rolling against her visage with manipulation of the fan.

Belongings gathered, Ume would turn and wave one last time from over the shoulder, sunset-orange oculars peering from the very corners of her vision to cast one final glance. "See you both another time!"

She was off to finish her patrol, followed by a whopping mound of paperwork at her desk. Oh, such a lovely image to go back to!

[Exit]

Sengoku was sorry to see her go, and a small frown tugged at his lips. "See you later, Ume." As she disappeared into the crowds, Sengoku rose from the bench and finished his drink. "I'm afraid I should go too...still plenty of supplies to buy up before I open up again tomorrow." He walked off, nodding goodbye to the other shinigami, Ryoichi. In moments, he was gone from sight.

(exit)

Noticing the time of day and now the absence of those he was communing with, Ryōichi let out a bit of a sigh and decided to head back to the City. A day off only lasted so long and perhaps he would find someone else of interest to talk to on his way back, who knows he may even find a lovely lady to spend the night with~.

No, he just went home.

[Ryōichi Exited/Thread Closed]
Ryōichi - 7 RP
Ume- 7 RP
Sengoku- 7 RP