For Debts Unpaid (Akira and Iroka Social)

[Akira Hinosai]

Akira pressed his body against the wall as far as he could. It wasn't an ideal hiding spot, but in the dead of night, it would serve. At least, it would if none of the nurses were at all aware of their surroundings. However, none of them were that perspective, or Akira was just that good. As soon as their footsteps were far enough away, he exhaled deeply. He had held his breath that entire time. That was close. Akira thought. Too close. Akira poked his head out of the space between the two small buildings. He had to be getting close. Those shinigami that passed him were nurses, he was pretty sure. That meant they were either getting off their shift at the hospital or they were going to begin it.

Akira figured that meant he had a 50/50 shot. Left or right. He'd gambled on his life before, but seldom had he seen the math. However, he was fairly certain he'd taken worse odds before. Keeping his head down, he rushed in the direction the nurses came from. Periodically, he'd duck into an alleyway, just to make sure he wasn't being followed. His inner hollow's words echoed in his head. I hope you know what you're doing Luca. I'm doing the right thing. But thinking of a comeback was pointless. The hollow's voice was just that, an echo, a fragment of memory. His inner hollow had been silent ever since his death. He never thought he'd say this...but he wished they were back with him.

Right about now he could have used some advice. Only he knew that wasn't true. He had been given advice, he just ignored it. Ken'ichi told him this was a bad idea, that it was better to wait, but Akira just couldn't do that. Kaen was gravely injured. That was all he needed to know. The whole seireitei was talking about the attack. Some jerkoff from Huecco Mundo decided to start shit, only it wasn't just rukongai plebs he was terrorizing. Two high profile shinigami were wounded in action. The details were unclear, and the rumors about the attack were often contradictory. One thing was clear though. Kaen Youji was hurt badly.

Stories ranged from having his bankai broken, to having a massive hole shot in his chest, to losing 3 limbs and suffering reiatsu burns. Some stories had all of the above happen to him. Maybe Kaen was dying. Maybe the rumors were true. Maybe they weren't. Either way, Akira wasn't going to spend the rest of eternity regretting what he did in these few days. He had to see Kaen for himself. He had to see if the rumors were true, or if they weren't. Akira owed Kaen that much. I wonder if he ever heard the news about the death of Luca Castabella. Kaen would no doubt blame himself, considering he was there with Luca and knew the whole mess with the vandenreich.

Akira didn't know what he was going to do when he saw Kaen. He supposed that would depend on if he was dying or not. He had a cover story in mind for the hospital staff. Akira was going to thank Kaen for saving a dear friend of his in the failed invasion. Maybe he'd chloroform a nurse and take their uniform, but somehow that seemed less practical. Akira made his way closer to where the hospital might have been, trying to keep his head down and prepared to duck for cover if he saw anyone. After all, he wasn't supposed to be here. Akira Hinosai had no reason to care about Kaen Youji or any of the low level plebs he saved. Luca Castabella did, though. Considering the long shadow cast by the Central 46, Akira knew he was taking a risk. If he acted even a little suspicious, he could be sowing the seeds of his own destruction.

He kept going forward, at least until he knew for sure if this was the way to the hospital or not. He had hoped no one would be around at this hour, but he couldn't be sure. Only the closer he went, the more likely he was to find someone, or for someone to find him...

SPOILER: Click to show

{Akiras thread appearance}

Silver hair, almost white in the moonlight. Roughly neck length. Faded indigo and crimson highlights. Pallid skin, almost corpselike and sickly...or just some gothic white facepaint. You be the judge. Coral colored eyes, thick black eyelashes and eyeliner. Standard Shihakusho, grey hoodie worn under.

[Munemasa Iroka]

If there was any advantage being in the 4th Division was, it was that Iroka could get off her hospital bed, take a few steps and be on her own bed, which for some sentimental reason, was more comfortable than the one she had been assigned to in order to mend from the wound given her by the Flamingo Pervert. Of course, access to her bed simply meant she had access to her room. And her room had necessary materials with which she could pass the time while convalescing. Texts on combat, science and a few other odd subject matters which, by Iroka's reasoning, were necessary to aid her on her path to become stronger and more useful. She could not afford to spend her time just lying around doing nothing, in the name of healing from her wounds.

Even though she had been told there was nothing she could have done to change the outcome of the encounter in Rukongai, even though by her own calculations she could have done nothing, Iroka felt absolutely depressed. She had done nothing at all except talk and get captured. These sort of things had to stop. She could not allow herself to keep being a damsel in distress all the time. Even though that seemed to be the expected role for the members of the Yonbantai, Iroka was sure that there had been captains of the 4th Division who had been strong enough to be scary to their enemies, even if their purpose had been to heal their allies. Iroka could do better. She was sure she could.

Of course, there was Fuuko. Even though one could argue that Fuuko was just as helpless as she was, the 'Oni of the 4th', as Iroka had been responsible for naming her, had still managed to retain consciousness throughout the ordeal. She had displayed an interesting amount of fortitude, while Iroka was digging around in her mind for the confusing voices that she could make neither head nor tail of. Both of them were arguably on the same level, but Fuuko was impressive. Iroka was not. Even when they had had the Division 4 training, Fuuko had done most of the heavy lifting.

Maybe in the end, her parent was right. Kimyou had always considered her useless, a failure, to be more exact. And going by what the expectations had been concerning the IROKA Project, she was indeed a failure. Iroka remembered the disappointment she had felt when graduating from the Shin'ou Academy, and discovering she had been assigned to the 4th Division. She had been told that this was because she had spectacular knowledge of the anatomy and physiology of the human body, but the orange-haired girl was beginning to think they had just said that because they wanted her to get off their backs. And gullible as she was, she had swallowed the lie, hook, line and sinker.

The truth was, she was in the 4th, because it was the garbage dump of the Gotei 13. And trash went into the garbage dump. Fuuko would have never been placed in the 4th, if she had not been insistent that she be placed there. Iroka couldn't even be insistent on what she wanted, and had obediently allowed herself to be assigned here. Maybe that was all for the best. She had no right to demand for anything, because she deserved nothing. Might made right, in the end. The stronger one was, the stronger one could make their demands on the world, and be taken seriously. The weak were good for nothing, and were to be done away with....

Wait, were these her thoughts, or were they those of another? She had two different consciousnesses in her mind, probably two different zanpakutou spirits, or so she thought. At the moment, the poor girl was unfortunately unaware that the being whispering all those hateful thoughts in her mind was none other than a hollow spirit, though how it had gotten there was as good a guess as any. Whichever the case, she had been feeling incredibly dismal for the past few days, even more so than she normally did on any given day. She would need to identify and sort through the voices in her head....

As she thought these thoughts, the carrot top rounded a corner, silent as a ghost, and simply walked past another phantom haunting these halls. She gave the fellow a cursory look as she passed, muttering, "greetings, Kyonshii-dono*," as she passed by. She may have very well been a ghost herself, with the silence with which she seemed to drift through the halls of the 4th, along with her strange, though lovely, chartreuse-colored eyes and haunted expression. This stranger, for his part, was definitely a ghost, with that anemic-looking skin, and the crimson eyes.... Wait, weren't Shinigami supposed to be ghosts?

That question stopped Iroka short, as she suddenly turned to look at the skulking figure, a very suspicious expression on her face. If Shinigami were supposed to be ghosts, then he couldn't be a ghost. Who was he, then? Definitely someone sketchy. Returning as quickly as she could, the 4th Division Shinigami planted herself resolutely in front of the stranger, staring at him defiantly. He wasn't much taller than she was, so he didn't look all that intimidating; if she had her wedge-heels on, she'd probably be even a bit taller than he was. And though he wasn't reed-thin, he didn't seem corpulent, or have large muscles, which in Iroka's opinion suggested "starving". Starving, pale, wandering at night. Yeah, he was a vampire, ghost or no ghost.

"Identify yourself, vampire," she said feistily, "or you'll be in a lot of trouble. You came here to suck the blood of the infirm, didn't you? Because they would be too weak to fight back or resist you, right? Well, you are rather unfortunate for meeting me in these halls, because if you must know, I know all the ways by which to kill a vampire. Silver, stakes, sunlight, flowing water. Come to think of it, I don't have any of those here, but if I threw water at you, would that count as flowing water? Oh, and onions! I know I have onions somewhere. So talk, vampire, before I make you weep out your soul. But wait, was it onions or garlic? Or leeks? Shallot? Chives?"

---

*Kyonshii is the Hopping Vampire ghost

Akira Hinosai

[Akira Hinosai]

Akira's blood ran cold. Oh fuck! He'd made it this far without being spotted. He must have been off his game or something. Still, he'd prepared for this possibility. There was no other reason for him to bother with the hair dye and makeup. Play it cool, Akira. Play it cool. You're just a squad 4 grunt out for a night walk. "greetings, Kyonshii-dono" He wasn't sure if that was some regional dialect or she had mistaken him for someone else. Either way it was best to pretend he hadn't heard her. After all, that was the path that made it most likely she'd keep walking and think nothing of their encounter. However, Akira, as was often the case, was not that lucky.

She stopped and eyed Akira. Akira stopped too. Was he going to have to knock this lady upside the head? He figured he could. He didn't have any moral qualms against that sort of thing. The tense standoff finally ended when she spoke. "Identify yourself, vampire," What the fuck? Akira was dumbfounded as she went through this whole ass speech about how she knew all his supposed weaknesses as a vampire. Am I supposed to be intimidated? Amused? Akira found himself at a loss for words as he tried to figure out if this girl was for real. By the time she was done, his earlier fear had disappeared.

"Listen, Van Helsing, as impressed as I am with your knowledge of vampires..." Akira rubbed his forehead with two fingers and showed them to the girl. Sure enough, there white makeup stuck to the two fingers. He wasn't pallid, he was just alt. "Are you out of your fucking mind? I got the sword, I got the robes, do I look like a fucking bount?" Yeah, vampires were cool and all, but Akira was honestly a little offended. "Also it's garlic. They're weak to garlic, but it depends on the story I guess." Akira crossed his arms. Garlic was such a lame weakness. Akira was Italian in a past life, so there mere assertion he had something against garlic was blasphemy.

Akira was so caught up in dealing with these bullshit accusations, he almost forgot about his mission here. It probably would have been smarter to just shut her up. Staying and arguing with some squad 4 loser wouldn't get him any closer to learning about Kaen...or would it? "Hey...You came from the hospital, right? Hear anything? Is anyone dead?" She certainly came from the direction of it, anyway. It was a vague enough question not to sound suspicious. He could be asking if she was a nurse or something, for all she knew. He wasn't outright saying he was here for Kaen. Not yet. He'd phrase it more as if he was asking about all the patients from that one Huecco Mundo Jerkoff.

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

"Oh surely you must have me mistaken for someone else, Vampire-dono," Iroka replied in a tone which sounded a bit too chipper for the present situation, even as the stranger's sarcastic nickname and its relevance flew completely over her head. "My name isn't Van Hellsi--" The orange-haired girl stopped short as she saw the man rub stuff off his face. She drew closer, squinting in curious wonder. Then she tried to touch his face. If he didn't avoid her, she would smear off more of the makeup with three fingers, in order to study the stuff in the moonlight. She was, however, unable to continue her scrutiny, as the strange fellow tried to prove he was a Shinigami.

"How am I supposed to know anything about the sex life of a Bount?!" she exclaimed in frustrated distress, somehow failing to realize that the expletive adjective he had used was merely an intensifier. Hopefully this fellow would not try to investigate more about the details of copulating undead. Iroka was sure she could not help him there. And onions, it seemed, would not kill a vampire. Garlic was the answer. "'The story'?" Iroka asked, looking curiously at the fellow with the makeup. "So, in the stories in which vampires are immune to garlic, onions should work, ne? Or would that be an entirely different class of plant produce?"

And then came the odd questions, taking Iroka by surprise. "E?" the Yonbantai Shinigami interjected in mild confusion. "Why are you looking for dead bodies, Otokogata-dono? They're all in the mortuary, rather than the hospital." First he was a vampire, now he was a kabuki actor. He had to be. After all, what normal people would be out and about with white makeup on their faces, if they weren't in the performing arts? "Yes, I just came out of the hospital; it's right behind me, if you need to find your way there. Also, I have heard a lot of things. The call of an owl, the scurrying of something, which I suspect to be an accursed rat... you'll have to be more specific regarding the sound you're interested in, Otokogata-dono."

He was weird as weird came. Or maybe she was the one misinterpreting things. People had always said Iroka was strange, and if so many people were saying so, then surely there had to be some truth in those words, right? But this guy, the carrot-top was sure he was bonkers, in some way. Not as if she was in the least bothered by it; the general consensus was that she was at the very best addled, at the worse, clinically insane. But Iroka was sure, even if she was mad, that she could not be wrong with her evaluation of this fellow having a few screws loose. The white makeup, running around in the middle of the night, hearing things and looking for corpses? Insanity positive score on that one.

"Em, Otokogata-dono, you're not mad, are you? I mean psycho, not angry." There was a surprisingly bright smile on her face, though the expression seemed a little strained.


Akira Hinosai

[Akira Hinosai]

Akira knew that squad 4 was the dumping ground for screwups who barely squeaked into the academy. He'd heard stories. He had some idea what kinds of weirdos he might meet here. However, even his wildest dreams paled in comparison to this...woman lady thing. Therein lied Akira's mistake. A failure of imagination. He got out of bed this morning and not once did he ever in his wildest dreams imagine THIS is how he would be spending his time today. Arguing about vampires with a girl who didn't just live in her own world, but seemed to exist in a universe of her own completely unteathered from the one everyone else was in. He was prepared to sneak in, hide in dusty supply closets, hell, he was even prepared to pose as a nurse if that's what it took. This however, this he could never have prepared for.

The mission was far from his mind right now. He seriously wanted to know what the sweet and sour fuck was up with this girl. He was already in this deep. He didn't want to turn away from the mystery. How deep did this rabbit hole go down? It was like watching a train wreck. Terrible, but he just can't look away. "Em, Otokogata-dono, you're not mad, are you? I mean psycho, not angry."  and with that, Akira finally broke. His heart pounded in his chest like a great war drum.  "Ha! Hahaha! Thank you for your clarification. Really. Really. Now, am I mad? Me? What could I POSSIBLY be mad about? Do you want a list?" somehow, the girl sensed that Akira was just a little incensed. Then again, A BLIND DEAF COMATOSE LABOTOMY PATIENT CAN FEEL MY ANGER! He was so mad he almost pushed past anger entirely to discover a heretofore unknown emotion which would utterly shatter the 4 pillars of emotion theory and usher in a new age of emotional intelligence.

"Ok, so. First off, Van Helsing: famous vampire hunter. Arch Nemesis of Dracula, who, before you ask is not real. Second off, some modern authors of vampire fiction find the whole garlic thing to be too silly and restrictive. I wouldn't know. Maybe you'd have to ASK THEM and not some innocent officer TRYING TO GO ON A MIDNIGHT WALK! Third off, maybe you could use onions, leaks or what the fuck ever kind of allium plant if you were a dirt farmer in Goatfuck, Poland trying to ward off vampires. It has like disease fighting properties or whatever. However, I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that for the same reasons modern authors omit the garlic weakness would apply to the whole ass motherfucking alium family of plants."

Akira had talked till he was blue in the face, so to speak. However, he wasn't about to let this escaped mental patient steal his place in the conversation. He held up a finger, the universal symbol for "one second" He could feel his heart surpassed wardrum and was now at "symphonic orchestra" levels. When he finally regained even the slightest semblance of a breath would continue, interrupting the girl if need be. " Oooooh, lady, I do not fucking doubt you came from the hospital! What, did you take some serious head trauma or something? Third or 4th off, cuz I lost count, I am SO FUCKING GRATEFUL for your astute observations, not just of the natural world, but of where the mortuary is located! Really. I am SO FUCKING IMPRESSED! However, as FUCKING ENLIGHTENING AS THOSE FUN FACTS HAVE BEEN I was... I was"

Akira felt light headed. It was hard to see at first, but was he seeing spots? No, they were definitely spots. He could feel himself losing vision. He was dizzy too, like he couldn't even stay on the ground without holding on. "Ffuck." Like someone flicked off a light-switch, Akira collapsed onto the ground.

Munemasa Iroka

//ooc Akira got so fucking mad he passed out but he'll probs be fine, this wasn't meant as an ending to the tread or anything heheheh

[Munemasa Iroka]

The meltdown was something Iroka did not understand in the slightest. It was as though, when she had asked what was (in her opinion), a completely legitimate question, something had snapped in the fellow's head. And he launched into a tirade of things Iroka did not understand in the slightest. Yes, she could understand he was speaking the same language as she was. And that was all. Words, she could identify, and nothing else. The carrot top simply stood in silence, watching him with a shocked expression on her face.

There was no doubting this, this fellow was definitely bonkers. Like, not screws loose but missing a whole set of them. Iroka began to get concerned. What was she supposed to do with a mad man? So far, most of the Division 4 trainings were on physical and perhaps spiritual trauma. They said nothing about mental cases. Still, she would try to follow him and understand what he was trying to say. He might be crazy, but he was surely trying to communicate. She would try her best to understand him; she knew how it felt to be considered mad. Surely, this fellow was deserving of her help and pity.

"Right..." the Yonbantai girl said, as she listened to his treatise on Van Hellsing, Dracula, and the opinions of modern fiction on garlic and vampires. That kind of made sense; after all, it wouldn't do to have the bad guy of your novel scream like a bitch when you threw a plant bulb at them. Otokogata lost her at the dirt farmer part. "Wait, Goat-what?!" It was at this point that Iroka sadly decided to write him off. The fellow was too far gone. There was nothing she could do for him at this point.

He seemed to be hyperventilating, or something. Was he getting a seizure? Heart attack? There was a pause, as Otokogata held up a finger, seemingly struggling for air, and Iroka, being the dutiful medic, sought to ensure that this fellow was alright. "Are you--?" She was unable to continue, as the pale Shinigami interrupted her. And ranted a bit more, and then seemingly burned out, giving one last expletive before collapsing to the ground. Silence reigned for a moment.

Iroka, for her part, was as confused as she was worried. Why did all the weird situations have to happen to her? No matter. He needed help, and help she would provide. The orange-haired girl grabbed the fellow's Shihakushou, and managed to drag him into the hospital, cursing her small muscles as she labored. Fortunately for everyone involved, the nurses Akira had seen were the last ones on that particular shift, and due to the lack of any patients in that section of the ward requiring intensive care, there was no need for anyone to be in the general area with the intention of keeping an eye on the patients. Courtesy of some Division 12 doodads, the medics could easily be roused if any anomalies were noticed (the drama currently occurring didn't count). And everyone could get much needed rest.

When Akira awakened, he would find himself on a hospital bed, his legs elevated slightly. He would also see that any tight parts of his clothes had been loosened. And he was being fanned. "Oh good!" came Iroka's relieved voice, as her concerned face appeared in his vision, "you're finally awake, Otokogata-dono! How do you feel? Do you want something to drink?" On the table near his head, the pale Shinigami would see a number of drink bottles, of water, juice and pop soda. And what suspiciously looked like... a rectal thermometer.


Akira Hinosai

[Akira Hinosai]

Another day, another migraine. However long he was out, he didn't feel rested at all. He remembered nothing out of the ordinary. He was in his bed back in the squad 12 barracks. Soon enough he'd have to clean up the shit from the beast pens. God was in his heaven and all was right with the world. Akira wanted this to go on just a little bit longer. Consequences be damned, he needed his sleep. 5 more minutes... Yet despite his base urges lulling him back to sleep, there were other thoughts too now. Something about this whole thing seemed wrong, somehow. What happened? Just like that, the seed had been planted, and there was no going back. His eyes fluttered open.

Akira was no stranger to waking up in clinical looking rooms. That came with the territory of being a part time lab rat. He saw a woman leaning over him, entirely too close for comfort. Her voice was like a sickly sweet siren call. Akira groaned. He didn't need this kind of coddling. He thought he made that clear to the whole SRDI, but apparently not. Akira turned his head so that he might better ignore this woman, but when he did, he got a better view of the room. This wasn't an SRDI observation room. This woman wasn't in squad 12 either. Akira felt his heart sink. He had to get the fuck out of here, and quick.

He tried to scream, but all that escaped his lips was a pitiful yelp. He tried to get out of the bed on the side opposite to the woman, but only succeeded in rolling off the bed. "Stay back!" Akira scrambled to get on his feet, leaning on a window sill for support with one hand. His shihakusho had been opened, but that was the least of his worries. Considering his recent medical history, a physical examination was fucking child's play. "I don't know what the hell you're playing at, but you can't keep me here! My boyfriend is the Lieutenant of Squad 12 and a noble! You don't have anything on me!" Akira's thoughts turned to the Central 46. They found me. Oh god they found me. All it would take was someone to give him a truth serum and his new life was over before it began.

Akira could hardly think straight. How did he get here? What happened? How long was he out? Boyfriend? Akira didn't know why he was lingering on that word. He didn't think he'd ever said it out loud in reference to Ken'ichi before. FOCUS! he told himself. He tried to find the last thing he remembered. He was trying to sneak in to see Kaen, and then he met this girl, and...Oh that bitch totally poisoned me! Akira had seen enough spy movies to know he'd probably been shot with ricin or something, maybe a tranquilizer dart. That would imply she had grounds to suspect Akira of wrong doing, but he hadn't done anything illegal yet!

Well, besides exist, but that was it's own can of worms. Akira wasn't going to give out too much information. Do shinigami have the right to an attorney? Somehow he doubted it. "I know my rights!" Akira hoped that would intimidate the girl. He'd have to maintain his innocence until the Shihoin could come down like thunderbolts on this place. "Ok, ok...Let's say I believe you're not trying to kill me. How did I get here? What happened?" Surely something important must have happened. It wasn't like Akira would just pass out from something like yelling at someone for an extended period of time. That was just silly.

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

The pale Shinigami's response, as soon as he came to, was to inform Iroka to keep away. She cocked her head to the side, her expression one of curiosity and mild confusion. "Why?" she asked. "It isn't as though you have a contagious disease or something." He said some more odd things, about not being able to keep him there, and not having anything on him and stuff. That was of no importance to Iroka. Her mind had fixated on a single word, out of all the ones that had been spoken.

"Kyaaaaaaah!" she squealed in delight, her hands flying to her cheeks as her eyes glittered. "You have a boyfriend! And he's got a lot of money!! You're so lucky!!! How did you two meet?" There was a sudden pause as the pleased expression was quickly replaced by one of consternation. "But wait, everyone is supposed to have a significant other, right? Or was there supposed to be some sort of application to get such things? Crap! This is why I should have listened more in the Shin'ou Academy. But they did teach so many things; how on earth is a girl supposed to remember every single one?"

Iroka's head snapped to face the 'weirdo', who talked about his knowledge of rights. He was really an odd one. They hadn't been saying anything about fighting, and suddenly he was here talking about rights. Iroka had heard of some people who were inveterate talkers; they said everything that came to mind. He was likely one of those people. Anyway, she was sure she had to maintain the etiquette of polite company, and respond to his conversation. At least, he said something she knew a bit about. "Well, I've got a pretty mean left, myself," the Shinigami girl answered, throwing a graceful but cute triplet of punches into the air, "despite my lack of powerful musculature."

Now this fellow was definitely bonkers. Who said anything about killing him? He vacillated from one topic to another without any form of pattern or coordination. "Ah... you're really hard to keep up with," Iroka replied in frustration. "Why are you suddenly talking about me trying to kill you? Do I know you from somewhere?" Suddenly, she shivered, as a recollection came to mind. "Wait, are you then the one that stole my mango fudge from the office freezer?" Her expression changed into a glower. "You're such a disgrace, stealing from me like that."

In any case, he had asked a question, and deserved an answer. "You fainted, most likely as the result of your sin of stealing from me weighing down on your soul," the carrot top answered stonily, picking the thermometer from the table. "I brought your thieving butt here to save your life. I should have left you out there in the cold, you scoundrel." Iroka tossed the temperature-measuring device at him. "Despite your lack of morals, as a medic, I have duty-bound to treat every member of the Gotei 13 that I can. Check your temperature. Now."


Akira Hinosai

[Akira Hinosai]

Akira's mind, which had been racing at breakneck speeds suddenly grinded to a sudden halt. He stared at the thermometer, and then at the girl. "Yeah, sure, whatever you say, MOM!" If this girl was a central 46 agent, she somehow surpassed all of Akira's expectations. Without even the slightest bit of force, Akira had already admitted to being personally involved with Ken'ichi Shihoin. This interrogation technique was the stuff of legends. Maybe this girl had a potent supernatural ability that compelled Akira to respond to her. It wasn't a matter of wanting to, he needed to. She was like the perfect target for Akira's cool lines. Well, she would have been if she wasn't so fucking dumb.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I know you're not my mother, but you see, I was making light of how you're talking to me like a child!" Akira responded in an exaggeratedly nice tone, mocking the girl's ability to miss the point of every rhetorical device ever. He supposed it was possible she wasn't a central 46 agent. She was just a total ditz. Somehow that seemed more likely than her being a super field agent, akin to 007 if he was a manic pixie dream girl. "Also, I didn't steal from you and I sure as shit wouldn't feel bad if I did!" Akira crossed his arms indignantly. Seriously, it was offensive to imply he had any moral fiber that would stop him from petty theft. He wished this lady would at least take him seriously. Seriously, where did she get off being all nice and shit?

The only mystery that remained was how he passed out. "I'm fine. I don't need my temperature checked." Akira threw the thermometer back at her. He knew he didn't faint because he had a fever. He'd know if he had a fever. He'd feel sick if he did, and he didn't. Akira relaxed a little. This girl wasn't trying to kill him. She did seem genuine too. People like her were too dumb to lie. Now that his brain wasn't in panic mode, he had some time to actually process what she was saying. Right as the thought crossed his mind to break down everything she'd said step by step and explain how dumb it was, the pieces began to click together. Did I...Did I get so angry I passed out? That was so lame if it was true. What was this girl gonna think of him?

Suddenly a fever didn't seem like a bad idea. At the very least it was less embarrassing. Fortunately however, the possibility of Akira's frail body failing to contain the monsoon of emotion did not seem to occur to the girl. Such was the benefit of only hanging out with people dumber than him. "You know sometimes people just faint." Akira lied. "They just stop being concious, I reckon. Doesn't need to be a reason." Akira had little doubt this would convince her he was fine.Then he could finally resume his top secret mission to find out of Kaen was ok or not.

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

Iroka stared at the other Shinigami blankly, as he accused her of talking to him like a child. Was that how it was? Had she been talking to everyone in Seireitei as though they were children? On the one hand, she could see how that could be offensive, as most adults didn't like being considered as children. But so far, to the best of her knowledge, Iroka did not think she had talked condescendingly to this fellow. He just didn't seem to be making any sense at all.

"Why are you trying to explain your attempts at insulting me?" the Shinigami girl asked, although her expression was surprisingly devoid of offense. "I know you're rude and all, but trying to explain your mechanism of being rude is rather weird. If you want to be rude, just be rude. I have heard that many people get their kicks out of being disrespectful, so I won't judge you." Okay, she was probably being condescending again, but to be fair to her, Iroka had no idea that she was coming off this way.

While the pale fellow denied stealing from her, something Iroka was willing and pleased to believe, it was the statement that came afterwards that annoyed her. He wouldn't feel bad if he stole from her?! And yes, people could steal things, it was also a part of human nature, but to be willing to steal a mango fudge and not feel bad doing so? "Just what sort of morally decrepit knave are you?" Iroka asked, her expression one of utter scandalization and a good deal of righteous anger as well. "To be able to-- to steal mango fudge... and not even have the slightest bit of remorse? I can't-- I can't even...."

Iroka turned away, a hand over her mouth as she looked overwhelmed. As she wasn't looking at the morally bankrupt Shinigami before her, the thrown thermometer hit her head and bounced off of it. With the force with which he had thrown the device, and the amount of luscious hair on her head, Iroka couldn't be hurt in the slightest by it. But just as an angry person would exacerbate a little slight into a grievous sin, Iroka took the thrown thermometer as an insult greater than whatever level it was supposed to be on. Snatching the device out of the air, ever before it reached the ground, the orange haired girl flung the thermometer at the bandit so hard that it would shatter against the wall if he dodged it. Yes, that was what he was, a bandit.

"And no, people don't just faint. I may be stupid, but I'm a medic, and I know how the body works," the carrot top said, her voice cold, as she stared at him, her chartreuse eyes blazing with suspicion and anger. "So, there's an ulterior motive you have here, Bandit-kun, and you had better confess to what it is, or I'll call the guards on you." It was unlikely the patrols on the street would give a flying fig about a low-ranked Shinigami sneaking into the hospital, but Iroka was of the opinion that this bandit had rather dastardly motives in mind.

She remained seated, but it was obvious her body was tense, as Iroka stared stonily at the pale Shinigami. "And don't you dare try to run, because you'll only make things more difficult for yourself," she warned, hoping she could intimidate him into staying still, so she could get the truth out of him. If he wanted to harm the patients, she could not let him. He was a bandit after all and had asked if anyone was dead. "Now, talk! What did you come here for, and why are you so interested in dead bodies? Did you come to steal organs?"


Akira Hinosai

[Akira Hinosai]

Akira flew too close to the sun. Here he'd thought he had the perfect target for his cool lines, but no. She picked right then to act like a normal person. Akira's greatest weakness. He felt himself take psychic damage from that misstep, but he quickly pressed on. When she responded to his mention of not stealing her food and not feeling bad, Akira smiled. Morally decrepit knave, she called him. "Personally, I prefer the term "puckish rogue" but hey, that works too!"

Akira barely ducked out of the way as the thermometer shattered behind him. There was a sudden shift in her tone. Akira felt scared all over again. It seemed he got too cocky expecting her to buy that he just randomly fainted. Now, she was suspicious, and willing to put the screws to him if that's what it took. Apparently she didn't approve of his insolence in throwing the thermometer back. "Don't call the guards!" Akira pleaded in a hushed voice. Maybe he hadn't done anything illegal yet, but if he was accused of stealing organs to sell on the black market, that was too much heat for him to handle. Even if these were bogus charges, it would still draw attention to him. With attention came scrutiny. With scrutiny came discovery, and if that happened, Akira was dead.

"Ok. Ok, I'll talk. I'm not here to steal anyone's organs." How did this girl somehow turn the tables like she had? It was so sudden, and now she had him by the balls. He couldn't intimidate her, or she'd scream for help. Anything like that would force her over the edge. If Akira wanted out of this, he'd have to ease her away. That was easier said than done. She was onto him now, and who knows if she'd believe whatever fake story he'd come up with. Akira had given this girl solid bits of evidence to work with. Whatever he told her had to line up with that. If it didn't, she wouldn't believe him and definitely call the guards. Akira tried to think, but found only one solution.

Rule Zero of the Morally Decrepit Knave Handbook: When you have exhausted all other options, only then do you tell the truth. "There was an attack in the Rukongai." Akira didn't elaborate. Considering she worked in the hospital, she already knew. Maybe she'd treated Kaen. "Among the casualties was Kaen Youji. He was badly injured, but there are all these rumors going around. No one knows for sure what condition he's in. The hospital's been stonewalling us. No one's even been allowed to see him." Akira had to brace himself for the wham line. "I wanted to know if he'd be ok. If I saw the rumors were bunk, then I'd rest easy. If he was about to die, or if he did die and the hospital's keeping that a secret, then I had to see for myself."

Akira's voice, for the first time since talking to the girl became tender, genuine. "So I was gonna sneak in, see how he was. I could never get approved to see him, so I thought that was the only way. He doesn't even know me! But I know him. I...guess you could say I'm a fan of his." Akira had been able to weave in some lies with the truth. Akira rubbed the back of his neck in a show of embarrassment, not sure what this girl would think of him now that he'd been honest with her.  I'm a fan of his? Really? Was that the best I could come up with?!? Somehow it seemed better than the alternative, by mentioning their sort of almost friendship. After all, Kaen wouldn't recognize Luca's new face anyway.

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

Iroka heard the fear in the pale Shinigami's voice, as he implored her not to call the guards, and immediately her expression softened slightly. As someone who had grown up in constant fear, she did not particularly enjoy making people afraid, even if they were the sort who could steal mango fudges and not feel sorry for that. Iroka was still frowning, but her face wasn't as stony as it was before. Although she felt a bit sorry for making him fear, because someone was afraid did not mean they were not still capable of bad things. She had to be careful, and be sure he wasn't up to any malevolent deeds. If he was, compassion or no, she would call the guards.

It seemed he wasn't there to steal anyone's organs, or so he said; Iroka wasn't yet certain she could believe him completely. Still, she sensed that he wasn't lying; his intentions did not particularly seem nefarious. If there was anything Iroka could say she was good at, asides healing, it was discerning intentions. Sure, she could not read minds, but if she paid close attention, she could suspect if someone was trying to deceive her, and most times, her suspicions were correct. People had said it was because she had such a good heart that she could sense the motivations of others, but why would people say she had a good heart, and then try to take advantage of that good heart in the next second? It was things like this that made Iroka wary.

It was very likely that the attack in the Rukongai was the same one she had been embroiled in, the one in which the Flamingo Pervert had nearly killed her and Fuuko. The mention of the name Kaen Youji established it as fact. And this bandit had come here because he was worried about the well being of the Vice Captain. All of a sudden, he didn't seem like such a bad person. Someone who could be worried about another person's well-being was certainly not all evil. And Iroka found such expressions of care endearing. He was still a bandit, though.

"You are a very strange one, Bandit-done," the orange haired girl said, shaking her head pensively, although the stony expression had totally disappeared, replaced by a gentle smile. "Why didn't you say any of that before? Instead you went all cursing and fainting and confessing that you could steal people's treats. You should have just said you wanted to see Kaen-dono. And then I'd have refused you and immediately sent you packing."

Okay, that was what Iroka would have been required to do, but she realized that the way she had put it sounded rather wrong. "Wait, wait!" she said, looking alarmed, "that isn't what I mean. I mean, I'd definitely tell you you couldn't see him, but that would just be a temporary thing. You have heard of visiting hours, ne? Why not come during such times? You would be able to see Kaen-dono and fanboy on him all you want. He's very much alive and well, and probably would have been discharged earlier, if he hadn't been insisting on training in the hospital ward."

Iroka rose and walked towards the pale Shinigami. "I'm sorry if I had to frighten you like that, Bandit-dono," she apologized, "but next time, you should be more straightforward. What, though, could have made you so afraid to come looking for Kaen-dono in the daytime?" She did not look suspicious anymore; her expression was more compassionate now. "If you'd come in the day and met me, I'd have taken you straight to see him, as I'm sure it would lift his spirits to know he has a fan, even if you're a bandit. Kaen-dono saved my life, after all."


Akira Hinosai

[Akira Hinosai]

Akira should have known it was a stupid idea to open up like that. He'd have had a better time jumping out the window and booking it back to Squad 12. This lady sure had a way with words "And then I'd have refused you and immediately sent you packing." That was like a slap to the face. Before Akira could read her the riot act, like how the fuck dare she, the woman clarified. Apparently there were visiting hours, and Kaen was not being denied that privilege. It made sense to assume he was having guests turned away, but Akira never checked for sure. As the lady would go on to state, there was a much much easier way to see if Kaen was alright.

I wonder if Squad 12 is rubbing off on me. There was a common issue with people in the SRDI. Sometimes they could be so focused on the bigger picture, the grand eureka moments, and best laid plans that they failed to see what was right in front of them. Though to Akira's credit, he did have his reasons for taking this convoluted approach. He was almost dreading the prospect of actually meeting Kaen. The guy knew Akira back when he was still Luca. What if Kaen could just tell by looking at me? If he can, how far behind can the central 46 be? Surely that wouldn't be the case. Ken'ichi didn't half ass this operation. No one would be able to tell.

There was a bigger reason than that. It would make Akira feel like Luca again. He might have owed Kaen a lot. He might have had respect, even admiration for the man. That didn't change that he was part of Akira's past. As far as Akira was concerned his past was dead, and the sooner he burried it, the better off he'd be. Akira couldn't tell this lady that, though. He couldn't tell anyone. "You don't get my meaning. I wanted proof of life, not to visit him." Akira had that. By all accounts he should have been satisfied to drop the matter there, but he didn't. "He's probably one of the coolest, strongest people around. Captain level by all accounts. But people like him don't just talk to people like me. You don't just say hi, you need an "in", if you get my meaning."

Against his better judgement, Akira was seriously entertaining the possibility. Of course he wanted to, but was it a good idea? "If I visit him. IF, keyword, IF. It couldn't just be as a fan, no. He won't go for that." Akira flexed the fingers of his sword hand as he became lost in thought. "But if I were to visit him to thank him for saving an old friend of mine, then that'd do it! I wouldn't be coming to him a beggar, I'd have legitimate grounds!" EUREKA! I HAVE FOUND IT! "All I need now is a friend for him to have saved." Akira looked up at the woman. "Ok, ok. I know we got off to a rocky start, but I'm sure now that you see I'm not so bad, we could almost be classed as friends, wouldn't you say?"

Akira tried his best to seem charming and not at all shifty. Well, even that would probably make him look shifty, but in a charming way, hopefully. "You know it won't even be a lie if we become friends for real! So bring me to him tomorrow all official like, through proper channels, and I'll express my gratitude for saving you. Then, I'll have met him and his opinion of me would start off way higher than if I was just some fan! I knew I was good, but I surprise even myself sometimes!" Akira was so pleased with that plan. It was perfect. He'd all but forgotten the fact he'd previously tonight gotten so mad he passed out. "Oh, and I'll DEFINITELY owe you one." Then again, she thought he was a low life bandit, so she may not trust him to uphold his end of the bargain. "You can trust me. There's honor among thieves, don't you know?"

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

Bandit-dono said he wanted to know if Kaen was alive, not to visit him. And then, in the next breath, he was talking about visiting him. "It would be very much better if you made up your mind, Bandit-dono," Iroka answered with a genial smile. "Saying you want proof of life, only to come back and say you want to see Kaen-dono makes you sound very confused. Personally, I have nothing against confused people. But from observation and experience, you need to behave as though you aren't confused, or people will treat you very poorly."

As far as the usual expected protocols were concerned, someone of Kaen Youji's rank wasn't expected to be relating with the rank-and-file Shinigami of Seireitei. Still, Iroka suspected that people like Kaen were not given to caring about status chasing. It would have been nice if there were more people like him in the world. But then, Iroka didn't think she could be a worthy judge of what would be good for the world. After all, most people considered her strange at best, and crazy at worst. And with the way people behaved, it seemed nice people were not really liked, or at least valued.

The Bandit's plan to see Kaen was as bonkers as they came, but Iroka saw no reason to not go along with it. Not because she was fine with engaging in any form of deception, but because there was something in the pale Shinigamis words which appealed to her. The orange haired Shinigami's eyes widened slowly as he continued speaking, and by the time he was done, Iroka looked as though she had seen a ghost. Whatever charms he was trying to put on to make Iroka agree with his plans seemed to have been lost on her, as she just stared at him with her large eyes, nothing but sheer shock evident in them.

Then there was a sob. Without further warning, Iroka burst into tears. "I-- I'm sorry, Bandit-dono..." she said between sniffles, as she tried in vain to take control of herself, "but I-- this is overwhelming. I've hardly ever been asked by anyone if I wanted to be friends with them!" Of course, this was a rather odd way to react, but as someone who was rather neurodivergent, to put it quite mildly, and who had a starkly emotionally deprived past, it was quite moving for Iroka to be told that someone wanted to be friends with her. Even if he had other motives asides just friendship for his offer. Even if he was a bandit.

"If you really want to be my friend, I accept," the carrot top said with a final sniff as she regained control of herself, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "I guess it's good to have friends. I could count the number of friends I have on one hand, even if I'd lost two fingers. But then, I shall remember that you definitely owe me one. And all I want from you is that you be a true friend. I wish for nothing more." Too often had people tried to make themselves her friends, only because they wanted to get things from her. That was the single caveat she offered as the terms for their friendship.

"I don't know about honor among thieves; I'm not one," Iroka concluded. "But if indeed we shall consider ourselves friends, then yes. I'm willing to trust you."


Akira Hinosai

[Akira Hinosai]

Great. Just great! Now the girl was crying! Akira didn't know why. Was it something I said? He thought he was being charming. Akira had fought in a hundred battles, and none of those compared to what he was facing now. He had absolutely no idea how to handle a crying girl. Sure, apparently girls cried all the time, but it still hurt when HE was the cause of it. Especially this one. She was like a child in a woman's body. He could get mad at her, like he could get mad at a child for being stupid. But making her cry? That was something that made him feel like the lowest scum imaginable. The guilt wasn't even the worst part, no. The worst part was the sheer helplessness he felt.

He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. He instinctively reached out towards her, but stopped himself. He wasn't qualified to provide comfort to a crying girl. For all her knew, his mere touch would make her cry harder, as his wretched aura burned against her incorruptible pure pureness. When she spoke again, Akira eased up a little bit. He at least knew where she was coming from now, and knew it wasn't because of him that she was crying. It was all the years of being near friendless. Suddenly Akira could hardly bare to look the girl in her watery doe eyes. It was just too much. Jumping out the window was looking much more appealing.

"And all I want from you is that you be a true friend. I wish for nothing more." Maybe Akira was a morally decrepit knave. Maybe the stench of corruption would always be a part of him, but not today. Today, he'd do the right thing. "I accept those terms. The pact is sealed." Their relationship might have thusfar consisted of him yelling and lying to her, but maybe the future would be different. There was honor among thieves and Akira was a thief through and through. "Whether you help me get in good with Kaen or not, no matter where you go, I'll always be your friend." He knew her pain well. Sometimes it felt like his whole life was spent waiting for someone to acknowledge him. Before he ever dreamed to come to Karakura, Akira was alone.

He decided to leave that part out. "I'm Akira, by the way. Akira Hinosai." The two had never been properly introduced. As fine as he was with being called bandit-domo, he figured friends should at least know eachother's names. Akira would pause, the expectation being that the girl would introduce herself at this point. If there was nothing else, Akira figured he'd best be on his way. "Well, if visiting hours are early tomorrow, then I guess I'd better get some sleep so I don't miss it. See you tomorrow!" Unless he was stopped he'd continue out of the hospital he came in through, only to realize he had no idea where anything was, seeing as he was unconscious when he was brought in.

Then he would head back to Iroka. "Heeeey, funny thing, uh, can you show me the way out?" Akira laughed nervously, sort of embarrassed that his cool exist was undercut by needing directions. Though if he was asked to stay in the hospital overnight, he probably wouldn't be able to refuse Iroka.

Munemasa Iroka