Tea Talk

Souta Nakajima

Souta Nakajima

Fourth Seat,
Third Division
Character Sheet
Reiatsu Class
7
Reiryoku
10
Souta looked down at the cup of steaming cha, its pale-green color reflecting his deep sunken eye back at him, face a mask of detached neutrality that hid a nervous core. He had made… many mistakes in his short life as a Shinigami, some of them quite dire, but he had never come out of one thinking that it would be his doom. Until now.

The note had been left in a conspicuous place, sitting atop the center of his rock garden, which had been both perfectly raked (something he had yet to manage himself) and utterly devoid of any signs of entry or exit. Not that he, in his panic, had bothered to check, but still. He would have noticed footprints in the gravel, even if they were very light ones. What bothered him more than that, however, was that whoever had placed the note knew he had tried to sneak back onto the Academy Grounds- and had managed to both infiltrate his house and plant it without setting off a single one of his defensive wards.

The list of Shinigami who could pull that off was, in his mind, rather short, and none of them were names he wanted to get on the bad side of.

So he had come, as instructed, to the small shop in the 3rd Rukongai with a sitting area for tasting cha, ordered a simple brew and sat. Waiting- for who, he didn’t know. But he waited all the same.
 
A note placed on the side of her bed greeted Suzume when she awoke. It had been a peaceful, innocent evening with Ayane. One of the first days that neither of them had duties and could just enjoy a break. A chance to wear loose clothes, enjoy drinks and each other's company. It was a good thing, probably, since Suzume might have erupted from stress had that note arrived any other day.

She had awoken before Ayane and read over the note a number of times. Yet, nothing seemed identifiable about it.

Not wanting to worry Ayane, Suzume put on some clothes and then kissed Ayane on the forehead. The gentle gesture was just enough to half-stir the sleeping gremlin. It was then that Suzume explained she was going out and would be back later. They had a small back and forth with Ayane requesting that Suzume pick up some produce, before Ayane's head hit the pillow like a sack of potatoes and she promptly fell back asleep.

The sight was enough to alleviate some of the weight that now bore on Suzume's shoulders. The relief, unfortunately, did not last for the entire walk. By the time Suzume ascended the gently sloping hill in which the cafe was perched upon, her eyes were flicking the crowd. Scanning for faces she recognized, or any that seemed out of place.

None seemed--

Her eyes locked with a man who, too, was scanning the crowd. He sat at a table, gently holding a ceramic cup which steamed with fresh tea. Something about him seemed vaguely familiar, though she couldn't place the name.

She approached with a half smile and a polite lift of her hand.

"G'morning," she said, informal but friendly. "This may sound odd, but did you write me a letter?"
 
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Souta caught sight of her the second she entered; tall and lean, with a forceful stride and a face built for a smile, though none graced it on this day. He knew her, or at the very least knew of her, though the white-haired woman’s name escaped him at the moment. Something about her demeanor, though, didn’t fit with the person he was here to meet- she was too nervous, too jittery. It was not the face of a woman who had the knowledge needed to bypass his security measures without leaving a single trace of having ever done so, save for a single note.

“No, I didn’t.” Souta replied, glancing between the woman’s offered hand and her face once she grew close enough, his voice decidedly neutral despite the faux smile that spread across his own features. “But I believe you and I will be finding out who wanted us here rather soon.” He paused then, taking a sip of his cha before he, at last, took the woman’s hand, slender fingers giving it a firm shake before he gestured towards the smattering of chairs and seats nearby.

“Enji Narukawa. Please, sit. I have a feeling we’re going to be here awhile.”
 
Narukawa... Suzume repeated the name in her mind. She scoured through every vague memory of her interactions with other Officers in the Seireitei, but was unable to place it. Ultimately, she decided he must have just been an unseated that she had passed by at one point, or perhaps someone she shared a class with in the Academy all of those years ago.

"Suzume Hattori," she introduced herself with a lopsided smile. "Fourth Seat of the Eleventh. I wasn't expecting this to be a group meeting, but I won't complain about pleasant company."

Though pleasant was a stretch considering the uncanny smile her companion wore. She tried to ignore it while she took a seat and called for a simple drink. As soon as her ass hit the chair, she reclined back, lifting the front legs of the chair from the ground and balancing herself on her toes.

"Who do you think our secret admirer is?" She said with a chuckle and a wink. Then, with a hum, she offered her own theory: "Perhaps someone from the Eighth doing an investigation? I've heard they fancy informal meetings as a means to ease up their targets.

"Or perhaps the Captain Commander! Wouldn't that be a treat?"
 
Hattori Suzume. Souta thought, nodding slightly as the woman took a seat, her exuberance tempered only by the needed quietness of the shop. Needed, for cha was something you had to be at peace to experience properly. Or so the monks claimed, anyway. Now that he had some time to think about it, he did know the woman, albeit only by reputation- she was whispered as “the Pride of the Eleventh,” a prodigy with a blade who had distinguished herself as a rising star within the Division, well liked by all. There were rumors of something more, but he had been too busy dealing with the Academy nonsense these last few days to dig as he normally would have.

“I don’t know.” Souta replied, his gaze flickering between the tanned woman’s position and the front door, his shoulders tense despite the relaxed atmosphere. He had taken a risk in giving her a false name, but if the possibility existed he would prefer the world where he walked away from whatever meeting this was without his actual name being dragged into it. Particularly given he was a fellow seated officer.

“I suspect someone from the Eighth, but it could be… an alarmingly large number of people.” He said, more to himself than to Suzume, though his gaze once again shifted back towards her as he spoke, noting how carefree she seemed, despite her nervousness. Unlikely that she was connected to anything truly dangerous- though that begged the question of why she was here at the same time he was, and what for.

“Do you have any idea why someone would want to meet you here?”
 
The easy smile on Suzume's face waned only slightly when her attempt at small talk was met with cool indifference. He was, clearly, not the sort of person she would normally get drinks with -- though, he hardly acted like the type to want to get drinks with anyone.

Or, perhaps, this whole situation had him on edge. She couldn't blame him, as the circumstances were atypical, to put it lightly. Even still, the way his eyes moved about, scanning the room with bated anticipation. Briefly, she wondered if he was expecting to be scolded by their admirer, or perhaps he had secrets he thought had been revealed.

Though, if that was the case, wouldn't her presence alleviate that?

"My best guess is that this relates to the attack on the Academy," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I was there during the attack and helped in the reclaiming efforts. 'Bout the only thing exciting that's happened to me in recent memory."

She tilted her head slightly and then gestured to him.

"Were you there as well? Perhaps that's our common thread."
 
“...I see.” Souta said, taking another sip of his cha as Suzume talked. So it was connected to his efforts at gaining entry into the Academy grounds then, but perhaps not in the way he had been worried about. If this person wanted to speak to both of them, then it had to be something they had both experienced that had drawn their attention- something that would warrant secrecy, yet not enough to have either of them kidnapped or killed outright. “I was there, briefly, at the end of the madness. Helped do some clean up before the Ninth took over and kicked us all out.”

He paused then, hesitating as he turned his attention fully towards the woman; there was a chance she had been sent ahead of time to determine what, if anything, he already knew, but it was a slim one, if only based on her general… vibe. There was nothing concrete for him to say that he could trust her, nothing he could point to beyond an ephemeral feeling that she wasn’t here to set him up, but it was enough, perhaps, to be a bit more open about what he had seen. A bit.

“I saw some odd things during the fighting. Hollows acting in coordination. Menos appearing the middle of the Seireitei. And something else.” Souta took another sip of his cha, glancing towards the door again as he shifted in his seat, not uncomfortable but clearly uncertain- or at least, pretending to be. “I could have sworn there was a Hollow in the middle of it all… eating Zanpakuto. Or trying to, anyway.”
 
"Eating Zanpakutō?" Suzume let out a laugh that was just a bit too loud.

A few people glanced over, irritation apparent in their scowls. She gave an apologetic wave, bowed her head to some of the more stern glares, and then turned her attention back to her companion.

"I've heard many strange rumors about the attack," she said. "Though I can confirm that the Hollows I faced were far more organized than I've ever seen before. As if they were given direction, or being controlled."

By this point, most had realized the attack was part of a larger-scale attack. It was nearly impossible to keep those sorts of rumors hidden. But eating swords? It was likely best not to let such a detail be confirmed to just anyone.

Certainly not a man who hadn't even given her the division he's a part of.

"You did well to help out in the aftermath," she said with an approving nod. "I'm sure your Captain is proud. And, for what it's worth? Try to relax."

Her eyes flicked down to the stiffness of his shoulders even after he had squirmed in his seat.

"Should anything go awry, I'll protect you."
 
Everything, including the streets through the Seireitei’s standard-issue sandals, felt warm and sunbaked. Even the wood of the table the two Shinigami were at proved warm to the touch. Passerby dabbed at their brows with white cloth and everyone wore their thinner, lighter, single-layered robes whenever possible. Some laboring men walked the streets without anything above the waist, while those of the highest station—visibly, by their regal wear—suffered in silence to keep the worn evidence of their superiority in plain sight.

“Excuse me?” A small, almost squeaky voice interrupted the two.

A small boy, no more than eight or nine years of age. He stood there wearing simple clothes—without holes or frays, certainly a child of the Upper Rukon—and short, messy hair. Dirt smeared across his cheek from a fall or simply a long day of play. The young boy stood just outside the short, wooden fence that surrounded the establishment and separated the outdoor tables and chairs from the streets of the 3rd District of the Rukongai.

He held out, in both hands, folded parchment: another note.

“Some man asked me to give this to you,” he told them. “Asked you to read it and follow the directions.”

As he spoke, the sunlight hit the small, single-Sen coin tucked in the boy’s palm.

“He also told me that he didn’t write it. Someone delivered it to him, too,” the boy said, struggling to speak the words as he tried to remember what he was, obviously, told to pass along.

The note proved simple: Further instructions, just as the young boy explained, that directed them to another part of the 3rd District. It demanded only a short walk down the hill on the warm day, the sun bright and beating down on the expansive city of wandering souls from above. The residential subdivision of the 3rd District.

It told them, too, to enter the home they would find there—and not to bring anyone else. The writer insisted he or she would notice.

It took the two Shinigami only a short while before they stood beside a home that appeared to yet remain under construction. A sign explained as much; but the incomplete, wooden walls, the roof that had only the wooden base and no terracotta tiles, the dirt that surrounded the home instead of stone that weaved through the rest of the streets of this district, all told the story as well.

Within: Not a single spiritual presence to be felt. No sign at all that someone entered, not footprints in the construction dust nor the slightest sound from the other side of the makeshift, plank door.

Until a warm, feminine voice called from within.

“Hattori, Nakajima, you’re welcome come in,” it invited them, echoing from just inside. “You’re in no danger, I merely wanted to ensure we weren’t seen together. Please.”

When they entered—after argument or hesitation, or not—they both saw the same.

In the middle of a large, empty room, with only framing for walls and stone for floor, sat a tall woman with shoulder-length brown hair and eyes to match. Like the two before her, she wore different robes: light pinks with red and green designs swirled throughout. She smiled, warmly, almost like a mother might, as she tucked hair behind an ear. She sat upon a small, wooden chair—one that creaked when she shifted and looked as though one too many laborers had stood upon it for the additional reach—and beckoned to two others before her.

An unmistakable face to anyone in the Gotei. A daughter of one of the Four Great Noble Houses.

Lieutenant Ayame Minamoto of the Seventh.
 
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Souta turned his head the instant the boy spoke, all thoughts of Hattori and what her words might mean fading as he all but leapt from his seat, taking the note from the boy without so much as a word. Instinct told him he was telling the truth- there was nothing for the child to gain in lying, and the instructions too clear and simple to have been imagined. Still, once he had the note in hand he took a moment to let his fellow Fourth Seat read what had been written, giving way to her orders as any proper unseated Shinigami would do, no matter how much it might have grated on his pride.

“Do you think we’ll find anything inside?” He asked as he followed behind Suzume, the walk a short one despite the weight that bore down on his neck, like a blade waiting to fall. It wasn’t that he was nervous, he had gone well past that some time ago. No, this was the weight of something far worse: desperation and, beneath it, a feral refusal to let whatever scheme or plot he had unknowingly wrapped himself up in be the end of his rise through the ranks. There were still things he wanted to do, things he had to know, people he needed to defeat.

And if that meant betraying a good woman to her death, then he would do it, no matter what Suzume deserved.

With his thoughts swirling, Souta stepped into the house with Hattori, his gaze adjusting to the dim light before settling on the waiting form of Minamoto Ayame, Lieutenant of the Seventh Division and one of the most imminently unwed maidens to ever come out of the greatest of the Four Great Noble Houses. He didn’t speak, not at first, taking a quick step away from Suzume as he watched the Lieutenant, wary. He had heard a number of things regarding Ayame, most of them speculation and rumor, but the one thing he was certain he knew had come from a far more reliable source- his own mentor, the Third Seat of the Fourth Division, who was as old (or perhaps even older) than the Minamoto herself.

Excellent intuition, broadly capable in her own right. Should really be a Captain, but isn’t. He thought, listing what he could remember off the top of his head before he spoke, hopefully cutting off any attempt at turning the moment into a trial of his truthfulness by Hattori- especially since Ayame had so graciously revealed his true identity.

“You’ll forgive me, Lieutenant, if I’m not exactly trusting at the moment. It’s quite shocking to have my house broken into, after all.” He said, glancing between the two women before he settled into one of the two chairs left open- the one on the far side, out of Hattori’s reach once he moved it a few paces away. “What do you want with us?”
 
Those brown eyes of hers never moved even as both of them entered and, though with great trepidation, Nakajima took his seat before her. He spoke first and brought up the fact that she had broken into his home just to leave a note. She smiled.

“I suppose it won’t make you feel better to know that the note wasn’t delivered by my hand?” She suppressed a girlish giggle. “But you likely already assumed as much, after today. The tea was quite nice, though, wasn’t it?”

Her eyes flicked to Suzume.

“I apologize to you as well, for the invasion, but I needed to keep the connections between the two of you, and I, as minimal as I reasonably could, you see,” she told them. “That’s the best course of action to take when you believe someone might kill you over this conversation.”

A hand raised, but didn’t go to the Zanpakutō they both saw at her hip, now that the sleeve of her casual robes lifted out of the way. She gestured at the both of them.

“I have some questions about what, specifically who. you both have seen recently,” she explained. “But the subject is what makes this conversation dangerous: Lieutenant Kikuchi.”

A pause, a moment where nothing about her moved, nothing changed, yet Souta and Suzume felt it the same: as though they were windows to be looked through, and the Lieutenant certainly looked.

The laughter of children on the streets outside cut through the conversation like a knife, and the tension melted as their voices retreated into the distance and another, small smile touched Ayame.

“Nakajima: You saw him all but appear from thin air when he first arrived, is that right? Saved you from the Cero of a dying Menos?” She asked, first, before her attention shifted. “And Hattori: You were with him at the Flagon and his home afterwards. Did you take note of anything about him, or did he say anything that caught your attention?”
 
Nakajima? Suzume furrowed her brow at the man beside her. Only a second later did the realization hit her that he had lied. That confused bend to her brow sharpened, refined into a more serious look. It took only one more moment before she realized why he looked familiar: he was a Seated Officer of roughly equivalent sway as her. Though she knew little to nothing about Souta Nakajima, she had certainly seen him in passing and knew his name.

A member of the Third? Lying to her? Unheard of.

A slight roll of her eyes brought her attention back to the Lieutenant. At her gesture, Suzume sat at the table right where the chair had been left. She saw no need to put distance between herself and anyone there, though her companion thought otherwise. Suzume's robes shifted and only the faintest tung hinted at the sword hidden beneath the cloth.

Then, she brought up Yasuo and Suzume's eye's widened. A rush of heat sprung to her face as memories of that night came back, only to be quickly swallowed back when she realized the undertones of the suggestion.

"I, uh, thought his behavior leading up to the attack was potentially odd," Suzume stumbled through her words and half-lies when put on the spot. "I wanted to meet with him under casual circumstances to see if he would open up."

She spoke as if she needed to justify why she was there at all. Why things happened the way they did.

"That said, I don't know him very well, so I can't speak to him acting uncharacteristically," she continued, words slower and more conscious. "But he was very dismissive of the whole matter when I tried to pry."
 
Souta was not surprised by Ayame’s reply, not at first; no, he well understood the need for secrecy, even if he did not know the reason why. His own endeavors had taken him rather far afield in ways that he knew would not reflect well should they ever be brought to light, even if his reasons for doing what he had done were sound enough in his own mind. It wasn’t until the woman explained that she hadn’t been the one to plant the note herself that his face twisted in surprise- the idea that the woman had subordinates who could pick apart his defenses so easily was not one he wanted to entertain.

“It does not.” He said once the woman was finished, his face settling into a flat scowl as Hattori at last deigned to join the conversation- though not before she seemed to realize, based on Ayame’s own words, just how thoroughly he had deceived her with a few simple words and a false name. “But I suppose it will have to do, for the moment.”

He paused then, allowing the laughter of the passing children to echo through the empty house as he looked between Ayame and Suzume, who seemed at once both deeply embarrassed by what the Lieutenant had shared and desperate to justify her actions in a way that wasn’t sexual- a clear sing, in his mind, that she likely had been there to seduce the man, even if she wasn’t willing to admit it out loud.

“Lieutenant Kikuchi’s appearance on the battlefield was rather convenient, yes.” He said once Hattori had finished, his gaze settling on the table as he rummaged through his memories of that day- he had been too busy trying not to die to pay too much attention to the finer details of how and when the man had arrived, but now that he had time to think on it, something about the entire thing felt off. He hadn’t sensed a thing nearby until the man’s signature had simply appeared at the main gate, rushing forwards to block the Cero that would have claimed his life…

Almost as if he knew it had been coming.

“Too convenient to be coincidence, I think. I never sensed his approach, not until he was all but right on top of me, deflecting the Menos’ Cero.” He left unsaid how that particular fight had been going- it was enough to know he had fought a Menos and lived, nevermind that his contributions to that fight had been next to nothing compared to what the other two Officers there had done. What came out of his mouth next, however, was far from the careful filtered words he had been sharing so far, his tone shifting from one of wariness to something far colder and more venomous, despite their flat, almost monotone delivery.

“He was involved, then.”
 
At Souta’s conclusion, she immediately raised a hand.

“Let’s not jump to that, at least not yet,” she told them both. “But the possibility is unsettling, no?”

Then, she gestured broadly, with both hands, to the two in front of her.

“This is why we’re here. If the possibility exists, however remote, I would rather no one have any evidence that we spoke,” she clarified. “But this is why I needed to speak with two that I knew had been closer to him of late, physically or otherwise, and those not in the Tenth such as Third Seat Tachibana.”

Her head turned and, on reflex, she tucked some of her brown hair behind her ear.

“My senses are sharp, I’m told. I know, for example, Nakajima, that you are more anxious than you let on, but about what, I do not know. Nor do I care to pry,” she told him, then looked at Suzume. “And that you feel a need to hide something yourself. But it’s more than that: I know that Fifth Seat Mibuchi is still at your home, Hattori. I also know that your brother, Nakajima, is still in his cell.”

As she listed off the people close to those in front of her, her eyes flicked in two different directions—the general way to both locations within the Seireitei, one in the Sixth and one in the more expensive residential districts limited to Seated Officers.

Those brown eyes, sharper now, with the faintest of light around the irises, turned back to Suzume and Souta.

“Even when someone hides their presence, spiritual and otherwise, I can typically peer through those defenses at least in part. Even if not, movement often gives it away,” she spoke more slowly as she studied Souta and Suzume, this time openly, for realization.

“My first assumption was that Lieutenant Kikuchi rushed through the defending Hollows, hiding his Spiritual Pressure to evade them and come to the aid of those on Academy grounds,” she continued. “But I find it unlikely that he could so perfectly escape my eye, after my attention was drawn to the area. I remember your soul, Hattori, and how you were surrounded by powerful Hollows and slayed them all single-handedly and at great cost.

“This does not mean he is guilty of anything, no, but that is why I speak with you. For a closer look. And the hope that, unlike his Third Seat, you would not immediately tell him of this.”

Behind her, dust fell from the exposed joists of the subfloor above their heads—the second story of the yet-incomplete future home.

“Perhaps this was all the work of changing behavior among the Hollows, as frightening enough a possibility that is,” she added. “But the potential that a Shinigami was involved was too much for me not to learn more of.

“And so, please, if you know anything else that might be relevant to Lieutenant Kikuchi, I implore you to share.”
 
Souta wasn’t listening, not really; the moment Kikuchi arrived kept playing through his mind, his thoughts tunneling down deep into the depths of his subconscious as he went over it again and again and again. He had felt nothing, had sensed nothing, not until the man was practically right on top of him, his power radiating outward with enough force it had nearly knocked him unconscious.

Of course, that wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary; the Lieutenant of the Tenth was a known slacker, often leaving many of his duties to Third Seat Tachibana, who handled much of the day to day operation of the Tenth, let alone the Academy. His senses were good, but it was entirely possible the man had simply been too far out to be detected and arrived with such speed he hadn’t been able to track him until he’d stopped. And yet…

Every good story begins with a lie, silly. The thought bloomed through his mind unbidden, the sound of Tatemae's childish laughter echoing in his ears as he “came to”, face a mask of neutrality, his roiling thoughts and feelings stilling down to a cold, singular point of finality. He could sense no deceit from Ayame, but that was to be expected- as much as it galled him to admit it, she was far and away more skilled than he was at controlling her Reiatsu, a fact that made it almost impossible for him to get a read on her. Hattori was easier, open and honest to a fault in a way that only an Eleventh Divisioner could be; it likely made her an excellent fighter, but in situations like this, she was practically an open book. And Kikuchi…

Well. He had his own thoughts on the man, thoughts that needed time to process before he could call them anything but wild conjecture. Which left him with only one real option.

“Unfortunately, I have already shared all I know regarding Lieutenant Kikuchi.” Souta replied, his voice terse but, at least in this moment, full of the honest truth as he looked to his fellow Fourth Seat and wondered if, perhaps, she might share more. Regardless of what she said he followed it up with a simple nod, his gaze falling to the floor of the house as he looked the Minamoto woman up and down, appreciating the way her figure filled out her robes before he spoke again, lips parted in a wide smile.

“If I learn anything else, I would be more than willing to share it with you, Lady Minamoto.”
 
The only time Suzume's eyes flicked away from the Lieutenant's was to watch the shifting of dust above. Her eyes lingered, if only briefly, above them, as if anticipating another sound to follow. When nothing came, Suzume leaned back in her chair and crossed her eyes.

Embarrassment and uncertainty gave way to a hard exterior. Hackles raised, fur bristled.

"If you hadn't said it so sweetly, I may have taken what you said as a threat, Lieutenant," Suzume said with a forced smile. "Calling out my subordinate's location...Nakajima's brother. All after going through such great efforts to show how knowledgeable you are at not being found."

A finger tapped on her forearm, restless and uncomfortable.

"I can't speak for Officer Nakajima, my relationship with Lieutenant Kikuchi is passing at best," she insisted, but lies were foreign to her. It came out sharper than she intended, like holding a blade ill fit for her size. "For someone who clearly has many eyes and a very keen pair of her own, I'm not certain why you're bringing us here to talk hypotheticals.

"I'll admit that, if Officer Nakajima's claim is true, that's odd behavior from Lieutenant Kikuchi, but you seem to be missing the context."

She uncrossed her arms. One hand waved to Souta, the other lifted in exasperation.

"Did he not save Officer Nakajima? Risk his own life against, what I would suspect is a dangerous foe for...for what? To risk giving away his own involvement on whatever had happened?"

She blew some air between her lips -- Pft! -- and then gave a dry chuckle.

"Even if you claim this was some attempt at creating an alibi, wouldn't it have been better for him to rescue someone more inclined to see him in a heroic light? To not question why he appeared so bizarrely?"

Just once, critical eyes flicked up and down Souta. The man who was so untrusting and skittish that the first thing out of his mouth to her was a lie.

"I mean no offense, Office Nakajima, but clearly you are not the sort to vouch for him."

Her eyes leveled on Ayame.

"Don't misunderstand, I recognize the strangeness of the situation, but you've gone rather far on what appears to be little more than a hunch," she laid her thoughts plainly. "Unless it is you who is hiding something from us?"
 
Silence.

No one needed much effort to see the conflict, the uncertainty in her eyes, after Suzume spoke. Her eyes turned downcast, her expression softened, and she nodded slowly.

“I know how it seemed, but know that this wasn’t my motivation,” she finally spoke. “You’re right, I haven’t been entirely forthcoming. I understand that my choices seem threatening. But you, too, must understand that I needed to take my own precautions even now that we’re face-to-face.”

She looked at the blade clearly hidden beneath Suzume’s own choice in wear for the day.

“One week before the assault on the Academy, all requests to Seventh to aid with exercises in the World of the Living were cancelled by Lieutenant Kikuchi. The reason was a lack of High Seated Officer availability—but I discreetly asked Third Seat Tachibana and she mentioned she would have been free and wasn’t ever asked. She dismissed it as some clerical mistake,” she suddenly shared.

She took a breath. A clear moment of doubt.

“But I also took note of his presence, mere days after, at the Senkaimon Gates—where I know I felt him go through and then return some hours later,” she finally told them. Something more of weight.

“Yet, when I investigated the matter, it had not been recorded by those in charge of the Gate at the time. I then look into this and find that the Seated Officer who was, has been out drinking with Lieutenant Kikuchi a number of times.”

A touch of exhaustion reached her voice.

“High-ranking enough Officers, such as us Lieutenants, have some degree of latitude with private visits to the World of the Living, but the lack of any recorded use is irregular,” she added, then shook her head. “I considered following up with the man who ran the Senkaimon Gates that day but thought that might be too much of a risk given his friendly relationship with Lieutenant Kikuchi.

“You two were the best option I could think of, those with the thinnest ties to him but also the most likely to have, perhaps, noticed something else amiss.”

Her head hung for just a moment, and then she lifted it.

“Forgive me for how all of this has come off. This isn’t my strength, I would have had a terrible time in the Second,” she managed a small laugh. “These could all be strange, but isolated, events. I realize that, but I haven’t been able to shake this doubt. I also haven’t been sure who I could trust around this, knowing how well-liked he is.

“I’m electing to trust you. The both of you.”
 
She really does deserve her spot in the Eleventh, doesn’t she. He thought as Suzume all but spat her reply at Ayame, the conversation slipping into something far closer to a confrontation than anyone there had any real reason to be comfortable with. There was a moment of silence, one where the two women stared at one another, the air crackling with tension as the Lieutenant seemed to weigh her options, clearly trying to measure out how such a battle would go- and what side he might fall on, should it come to that.

It didn’t take much to see where her thoughts led, nor the concern, genuine or not, that filled her gaze as she broke eye contact, clearly uncomfortable but also clearly desperate. Or at the very least a good enough actress that he couldn’t tell the difference. Still, it seemed enough to placate Hattori, her posture visibly softening as the other woman sighed, relaying to the both of them

“It may not mean much in the eyes of my fellow Fourth Seat—” Souta began, his gaze flickering down to where the tanned woman kept her blade hidden before he continued, “—but I appreciate the risk you are taking in coming to us with this, Lieutenant.” He brought his right hand forward then, offering it over to the Minamoto, palm up, in a gesture meant to convey comfort, something that was only mildly hindered by the cold, toothy smile spread across his pale face.

“I know the man you spoke of as Kikuchi’s drinking buddy; 16th Seat Michio Riku, no?” He said, not really asking despite the inflection he put into his voice- it was hard not to remember the man’s bragging, not when he’d gone on and on about it after the first time he’d claimed to have gone drinking with the famous Lieutenant of the Tenth. He hadn’t believed a word of his wild stories, dismissing them as the feeble attempts of a lesser man trying to impress his peers, but if what Ayame shared was true…

“I can pay him a visit, if you would like. See what he might share, with the right motivation.”
 
Ayane's answer was, at first, met with a critical gaze. Suzume did not relax, nor did she seem to dismiss the things being said. With Ayame's life potentially at risk, it felt as though every fiber of her being had been ignited, like she was clashing blades rather than words. Every subtle shift, the inflection of Ayane's voice, even the way Souta reacted from the corner of her vision, all of it seemed much more obvious now that she was alert.

Perhaps it was only because of her fear that Suzume noticed the softness of Ayane's voice, how her posture loosened, and, perhaps more importantly, how she chose to trust them and explain everything she had learned.

Lieutenant Kikuchi suddenly halted all involvement of the Seventh in the World of the Living. He had even been seen leaving the Seireitei frequently, without records being made. One such time just before the attack. All of it coming together to paint him in a much more suspicious light.

Souta chimed in, noting that he knew the very man who had been allowing the Lieutenant to pass through unnoticed.

At some point, Suzume's eyes had fallen to her lap. Her brows were knotted with tension as thoughts played out across her eyes. She tried, desperately, to recall her evening with the Lieutenant. To see if anything had been amiss, but all of it seemed genuine to her.

Though, she was seldom a good judge of person unless it was in the middle of a fight.

"I apologize, Lieutenant Minamoto," Suzume suddenly spoke. "You're not the only one who's quite terrible at all of this."

She gave a lopsided smile, though it did nothing to ease her own expression.

"It's difficult for me to know who to trust, since the attack."

Her lips parted, a word half spoken, and then silenced. Nervous eyes flicked over to Souta and her jaw tensed. Despite how his eerie behavior made her feel, Lieutenant Minamoto seemed to trust him enough that she went to such lengths. He, too, seemed keen to help -- or was that just platitudes so that he could get out of here and report to whoever was behind all of this?

If he becomes a problem, then I could...

Her Zanpakuto seemed to hum at her side, as if pleased with the invasive thought.

"I saw a man who I presume to be a Shinigami, speaking with a Hollow-like during the attack," Suzume finished her thought as her eyes came back to Ayane. "They were both masked by a veil of sorts, but from within its cracks I could get glimpses of their voices and vague traits about them, though it was distorted.

"I've already reported this to Officer Inoue of the Sixth. He's investigating the matter as we speak."

Another pause, though clearly she wanted to say more.

"We...Determined the man to be tall. Long hair and dark features," she continued once she found her voice. She knew how it sounded. How the description lined up. "But the details of him remain ambiguous at best. When I spoke to Lieutenant Kikuchi at The Flagon, I didn't think his voice matched."
 
If Souta’s unusual smile, considered by many to be more unnerving than it was comforting, disturbed the Lieutenant, she failed to show it. Instead, she returned a far more natural smile of her own.

“Yes, Sixteenth Seat Riku,” she confirmed for him. “I had hoped you would offer, too, if this conversation went well. But I caution you how you approach this. If Lieutenant Kikuchi finds out, and something is going on, it may put you in further danger.

“You have survived enough, Nakajima, and I do not wish to hear you’ve been so terribly injured again.”

Or worse, the unspoken addendum.

“And, please, Hattori,” she spoke with a shake of her head as he attention shifted. “You need not apologize. But I do appreciate that you’ve remembered I’m a Lieutenant and not merely a Seated Officer.”

Another, small laugh flowed out of her as she teased the lower-ranked Shinigami.

Only to get washed away in the tide of Suzume’s story. The talk of a ‘Hollow-like’ beast, and what appeared to be a Shinigami speaking with it. Someone, something, that worked against the Seireitei and with the Hollows. Had something to do with the indiscriminate slaughter of Academy Students.

Her lips parted not to speak, but simply as a consequence of how her mouth slowly hung open.

As she finished, the Lieutenant visibly gathered herself. She glanced to Souta, a clear intention of reading whether or not this was news to him as well or not, and then back to Suzume.

“You said ‘dark features’. What does this mean?” She asked. “And if you can, any further specifics. Lieutenant Kikuchi is tall enough, I suppose, but that could be said of many men in the Gotei.”

They tended to skew notably higher than the average population of the Soul Society.

“If we can, if you already have, confirmed that this isn’t Lieutenant Kikuchi, and he is involved, that leaves us with an even worse possibility we must consider.”
 
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