The hardest part about rebuilding after a catastrophe was dealing with the memories that were inevitably dragged into the light during the process. Homes all throughout the Rukongai had been damaged or outright destroyed, and until Sengoku had returned from his soul searching in the Fourth District, things had been going slowly. His first order of business had been putting things in order. Almost every rukon citizen, from the youngest to the oldest, was doing something to help in the reconstruction of the ruined districts. The rampaging Hollows had been more focused on killing the actual citizenry than destroying the infrastructure, but there were still many homes to be seen to.

Work crews had been assembled, tools and supplies dispersed. Sengoku had taken up command of the workers, operating from under a large canvas awning, tables and chairs set up around him. A large map was spread out on a broad, round table in front of him. Worksites were circled in red ink, places where his teams had assembled to either repair standing structures, or rebuild those that had been destroyed completely. Roads were being cleared, rubble being moved and re-purposed. Bodies were being foound regularly, and carted off by separate teams. Those that were not suited for physical labor were acting as messengers, or preparing food, or keeping records. Sengoku glanced at a young boy standing off to his left. "Head to the third district's eastern quadrant." He said, handing the boy a list with the various crews active in the area and what they were working on. "Take a note of anything they might need, let them know that food will be ready in about an hour, and that we'll be ending work at sunset." The boy nodded dutifully, took the list, and raced off. The kids of the districts had made useful messengers, being quick and good at finding shortcuts to where they needed to go. Things were moving along well now. In three days they had completed almost all of the non-critical repairs and cleared all the roads in the Third District's North and Eastern quadrants. The South and Western quads still had work to be done, but they were furthest from the invasion point, and didn't need much work at all.

The work kept Sengoku's mind busy, kept him from dwelling on other, harsher thoughts. Managing the reconstruction seemed to be coming to him almost as naturally as managing the tavern. His reputation afforded him an ease of command: The people of the Rukongai knew him, respected him. They were not happy that he'd vanished for so long, but were thankful he'd come back, and that had covered the worst of his sins. He sat down in a chair near the map table and began taking notes. They had no shortage of supplies, thankfully, and no one had been injured in the working. Still, it wouldn't pay to slack off on Sengoku's part. It was his job now to see that things ran as smoothly as possible, and that the repairs were finished before whatever catastrophe was coming next. As absorbed as he was in his work, someone could have walked right up behind him, and he likely wouldn't have noticed.

SPOILER: Click to show

”SO FUNNY STORY! CAIN’S POST IN THE EVENT? MIHAMARU IS THE ONLY ONE WHO WASN’T LISTED AS DEAD!



THAT GIVES ME THE UNIQUE ABILITY TO PULL THIS!

It's surprising how a brief moment of cowardice can mean the difference between life and death. All it takes is a flashback to the worst incident in his life, the First District Massacre, and watching his friends and comrades get butchered by Masks, and Mihamaru decides against looking for a fight, and hides for his life. Shame at the disgrace, to such a degree that Mihamaru is even using the word, causes Mihamaru to keep to himself for a time. If left alone, there was no telling how long Mihamaru's self-imposed "exile" would last.

His curiosity was peaked by two passing rumors he heard. Apparently Sengoku actually went and started his little plan of taking back the fourth from the Masks. Mihamaru was always of the opinion that the fourth district was a hellhole populated by thugs, rapists, and Masks, and that they all deserved each other, but never thought to bring it up. What was even more surprising, was that people had thought he had died!

Imagine, declaring a man dead without even finding a corpse? That's the sort of thing that can depress a man. That left Mihamaru with a choice. Does he stay in his little hole, lying in his shame? Perhaps he can come back and create a brand new identity, probably borrowing one of his old allies' names. Hell, maybe he could just go right back to the bar and act like nothing happened.

"You died!" they'd say. "... I got better," he'd reply, and good laughs would he had by all! Assuming, of course, that Sengoku doesn't just finish the job. A distinct possibility, that. However, "intelligent" wasn't often a word used to describe Mihamaru, so off to his axe wielding executioner he went... only to find that the tavern was empty. Luckily, an axe carrying giant is the type of person who gets noticed, so it wasn't long before Mihamaru found him in the second district. Rather than try to approach the man diplomatically, Mihamaru simply walked up from behind him, until he gets within Sengoku's sight, although he kept the hood of his cloak over his head, so Sengoku would have to identify him by his voice and words.

"So you haven't been at the bar in the while, and I actually had to go looking for you. Does this mean I've been fired?"

Hopefully an easy task, but who knows?

Mod Note

Because I'm a sweet guy, I'll go ahead and let Miha be not-dead. But just for future reference, next time send me a PM first, or at least try a method other than 'lol let me just rile up the guy notorious for having a bad attitude', or maybe things won't go so hot next time.

A soft, hopeful whine issued from the floor directly beneath Sengoku's chair, causing the big man to stiffen as someone entered into the pavilion. Beady little eyes surrounded by grey fur observed the intruder, who was greeted with a loud bark, followed by Haiiro's happy puppy charge that ended in a bouncing dance, including yipping and tail wagging. Sengoku turned in his chair, staring long and hard at the hooded figure, eyes narrowing in suspicion. He rose and approached the man. "The Bar's closed until the construction in the Third District is done..." He said, his voice low, but flat. He wasn't sure who he was expecting, but there was some hope in him yet.

He tugged Mihamaru's hood back with a sharp jerk, and gave the younger man a long, hard look. "Son of a bitch..." he growled, looking as though he had no clue how to react. He really didn't, considering that this was the first time he'd been wrong like this. "You little son of a bitch...I thought you were dead." There was some hurt in his voice, but no anger. Pain, from the memory of losing a friend, but there was a creeping joy in the knowledge that Mihamaru was alive. Fuck the gruff act, he grabbed Mihamaru in a tight, albeit brief hug, then released him, hands on his shoulders. "I thought you were dead! For fuck's  sake, man, where have you been!?"

Rather than answer Sengoku after the... unexpected, to say the least, embrace, Mihamaru crouches down, and rubs the top of Hero’s head. ”How’s my favorite little hell raiser? You’re doing a good job keeping the big guy out of trouble, huh boy?” All this time, he assumed that little Hero wasn’t exactly fond of him. Apparently his affection is showing that, either he just misses him, or he really did like him.

After he finishes playing with the puppy for a minute, he gets back up, and looks towards Sengoku. ”Let me guess, you saw a guy with claw marks all over his face, in a black cloak? Does everyone with a cloak look the same to you?”

Sengoku snorted, plucking a silver flask from his back pocket, unscrewing the cap, and taking a long swig. "No body to be found." He put the cap back on and returned the flask to his pocket. Haiiro, apparently done being excited, settled back onto his haunches, and looked from one man to the other, tilting his head back and forth as he followed the conversation. "No body was found in the clean up, and you hadn't been seen for days. I just assumed one of the big nasty bastards had eaten you." He shrugged. "If it makes you feel any better, I never did get around to replacing you."

Sengoku went back to his chair and sat down. There was a long moment of quiet, where he didn't say anything. Haiiro didn't bark. There was a new tension building, to replace the one that had washed out of him when he'd seen his friend was still alive. Finally, he got the words out. "Fuji didn't make it." He grimaced, the taste of bile and alcohol rising in his throat. "Buried her out back, behind the tavern with the rest of my family." He swallowed the burning mix in his throat. The whole thing made him sick to his stomach. "Fuji and a whole lot of others dead, so why not you along with them?" He grimaced. It had been less painful to believe that everyone he'd cared about was gone, than to not know for certain what had happened to them. Whether he realized it or not, Mihamaru had opened up some wounds that hadn't even begun to properly heal yet.

"Fuji and a whole lot of others dead, so why not you along with them?"

There it was. Mihamaru was honestly hoping that Sengoku wouldn’t ask the question. That he’d be so relieved that his long time employee survived what seemed like a massacre, that he wouldn’t question it. There are those that believe in an Awareness that influences all events. Maybe Sengoku would... no, no of course not. Even if Sengoku were a spiritual man, what purpose would there be in keeping someone like MIHAMARU alive? No, obviously, Sengoku wouldn’t accept any fantastic lies. Although may he wouldn’t have to... ”I heard rumors about that, but I was hoping that the rumors were wrong. Hell, they were about me, right?. Maybe I was hoping that some of those rumors about ‘good hollows’ weren’t the sort of tales told by idiots at cheap taverns... er, no offense. Really, though, she was a little girl! I suppose some people need to be reminded, though. Only good Mask, is a dead one.”

Mihamaru then stretches himself a bit, in an attempt to try and stall for time. ”You’d be surprised the kind of damage practically living in a cave will do to the back. Maybe I’m just getting old. I used to sleep in around the same conditions back during the... oh, you don’t need to know the details. It’s a boring story anyway.”

Sengoku scowled and fixed Mihamaru with a long, hard stare. "A cave huh..." He sat back, studying Mihamaru. He'd run and hid in a cave, while so many others were dying, suffering, and struggling to make it through what had been, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the worst catastrophe the Rukongai had seen. Mihamaru had run away. Sengoku felt anger surging through him; blind fury that demanded action, but he repressed it in a heartbeat. Mihamaru had never given Sengoku any reason to believe him to be brave. Clever, certainly. Quick in action and wit, but brave? Hardly. Sengoku didn't see it. He had no right to expect Mihamaru to plant his feet and fight against such overwhelming odds. It simply wasn't who he had perceived Mihamaru to be. He was disappointed, certainly, but there was something better here. A friend had come back alive. Not one of the many lost at the wall, or slaughtered in the districts, Miha had survived. That fact alone made Sengoku more than willing to overlook the fact that he had run away.

"All right then..." He rolled his shoulders and popped his neck. "There's work to be done Mihamaru, the people don't need a tavern right now." He stood slowly, joints aching. "They need homes. They need cleared roads, and medical supplies. Since you couldn't join in the fighting, you can help in other ways, Mihamaru." There was a wicked, cruel grin on his face as he turned to face Mihamaru...the same grin he would wear when he was giving the man a particularly unpleasant task. "Find a work crew and help in. I have other things to arrange." He started for the entrance of the pavilion, Haiiro following behind him. As he passed Mihamaru, he placed a firm hand on the man's shoulder, giving him an honest smile. "I'm glad you're alive, Mihamaru." With that, he continued on his way, headed out of the tent and into the districts. It was time to go to work.

(Exit)

''That's right. A cave.'' Far be it from Mihamaru, during the lull of the conversation, to ignore Sengoku's stern look of disapproval as he hovered unobtrustively beside the tavern owner. He knew full well the tasks that awaited him, and deadpanned in return. ''Aye-aye, boss man...''

[Mihamaru exited, thread ended]

Sengoku - 4 RP
Mihamaru - 3 RP