Meeting the Family [Fuuko]

[Munemasa Iroka]

The sun was out, and it looked for all intents and purposes to be a wonderful day. It was the textbook definition of a 'happy day', what with the birds singing in the trees, the sky blue and cheery with not a cloud in sight, and the sun doing its best to turn everything below it into crispy fries. Okay, that didn't particularly sound so happy, when put that way. Some people saw sunny days as lovely. Some saw them as oppressive. In the end, it all depended on the opinion of whoever was asked.

That, and their mood. Iroka's current mood was quite the opposite of the beautiful vista displayed on such a resplendent day, and coupled with the fact that she normally did not like hot days, the 4th Division Shinigami felt absolutely miserable. Of course, her mood had tanked due to the nightmares she had experienced throughout the night. True, she did have rather jarring dreams, but these were normally not so frequent. Recently, though it was an almost everyday occurrence, and Iroka had been suffering from sleep deprivation.

What troubled her the most was the nature of these nightmares. Their subjects had originally been random and whimsical, and some were much less nightmarish and more comical in nature. Recently, though, they had all been frightening, and every single one of them had to do with that strange creature deep within the recesses of her mind. Iroka wanted to think that this being was a zanpakutou spirit. She, after all, knew that while having two zanpakutou was uncommon, it was neither altogether rare or impossible for a Shinigami to have. So surely, this creature was her second zanpakutou spirit. As to why the creature felt so delighted to subject her to torture in all her dreams of late, Iroka could not say.

She suspected that someone could answer the questions she had. The one person she wanted to see, the one person she wanted to avoid. Her parent, Kimyou. It had been a while since she had seen the imprisoned Shinigami. And that was to be expected. Getting into the Nest of Maggots was a threat in itself, thanks to the sort of people who were incarcerated there. And yet, there were ways by which one could get around the danger of setting foot in that high-level prison. One of these ways was to get the assistance of someone with incredible physical prowess. And that was why Satoshi Fuuko had been summoned.

Frankly, Iroka was against getting the aid of her fellow Yonbantai squad mate. And yet, she was also certain that Fuuko would have been quite angry with her if she had attempted to do something that dangerous without involving her best friend. That was the reason she had sent a Jigokuchou to the 4th Seat of the 4th Division, asking the latter to come and meet her near the entrance to the Nest of Maggots. She had already gotten clearance to enter, so getting in would just be a matter of showing the clearance papers, and going in, while preparing for a fight, if that was necessary. Iroka fidgeted as she waited quietly.


Satoshi Fuuko

[Satoshi Fuuko]

Fuuko had been quite surprised when she received the hell Butterfly from Iroka. As old fashioned as the orangette was, for simple communications even she seemed to be alright with using the relatively new communication tech that was proliferating throughout the Soul Society. For 'Hellos' and 'goodbyes' catching up for lunch of coordinating work shifts, all of that was easily done with their Soul Phones. A Hell Butterfly was highly formal and usually meant there was some kind of mission involved. Moreover, Iroka wanted to meet her at the Maggot's Nest. Fuuko had never been there before, at least not on the inside, but shew knew what it was. It was where they stuffed people too dangerous for Soul Society that couldn't outright be executed for one reason or another. 

As Fuuko made her way through the Nibantai, she wondered what could possobly bring Iroka to the place. She didn't mention anything about Shihouin Taichou, or anything really. Was it an order from their new Captain? Was someone inside the Maggot's Nest sick? Obviously Fuuko knew why she was called... but why Iroka? Fuuko tugged on the hem of her top as it ran along her ample chest and fanned herself. Today was hot and she was grateful she wore loose clothes on a day like this. Her own tanned skin could handle the heat pretty well, but she still liked the breeze. Maybe after this mission, her and Iroka could fina a pool and cool off some. That sounded nice. 

As she got closer, she saw Iroka waiting at the gate and quickly cleared the distance. "Oi! Sis!" Fuuko called out and stepped next to Iroka. "I got yer, uh, Jigokuchou... do we have a mission? Cap'n didn't say anythin about comin here." Fuuko admitted. "So, uh, I guess we're not just here for a picnic, huh?" The Blonde said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. Iroka did not look quite  in her usual spirits as Fuuko approached. 

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

Iroka saw her friend and tried to smile. It looked rather strained. "Yaa, Oni-chan!" she replied. Though she looked stressed, Fuuko would notice that Iroka looked less tense when she had shown up. "I guess a picnic would be nice in the Maggot's Nest," she said, in classic Iroka fashion, the metaphor of Fuuko's question flying over her head. "I'm sure the inhabitants wouldn't mind us even sharing some food with them. They must feel lonely, being locked up in there for Heavens know just how long. I'd imagine they don't usually have cake on the menu, ne?"

The orange-haired girl placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "In any case, I'm so glad you came, Fuuko-chan. And no, we don't have a mission; Miranda-sama probably doesn't even know we're here. I guess you're wondering why I communicated with you via Jigokuchou, ne? Well, it's because I don't have a Soul Phone. Or I did, but then I opened it and turned it inside out, and then I got another one, and the same thing happened, and I couldn't buy a third one, because they can be expensive and I got broke. So I decided to use the Hell Butterfly. It's cheaper, and though it's quaint, there's something classic about sending messages through those elegant butterflies, isn't there?"

Iroka paused, as though weighing what she was going to say next. Then she looked down, her face reddening slightly in embarrassment. "I call you my best friend, Fuuko-chan, but I realize you know so little about me. So much for friendship, huh? In any case, I decided that if we're truly friends, then sooner or later, I've got to take you to see my parent... wait, that didn't come out right." In most cases, taking someone to see one's parents had connotations of romance or marriage involved. For some reason, Iroka's brain was able to realize this, and her face reddened even more.

"I-- I mean, you should know more about my background, shouldn't you?" She turned to look at the entrance to the Nest of Maggots, then turned back to her friend. "My only existing relative is somewhere inside that prison, which is why I called you here. Don't worry, I have no intentions of trying to bust them out, but it is quite a risk going into the Maggot's Nest, ne? I hear there's all sorts of fun and interesting people in there." Perhaps a disturbing thing Fuuko would realize would be that Iroka did not look in the least sarcastic when she made that last statement, her eyes even twinkling with some degree of excitement.

"You're here, Oni-chan, because I want to kill two birds with one stone. Firstly, I know we worry about each other. I couldn't let you go off running by yourself to save Kazu-kun, and I realized you'd have probably felt worried for me if you realized that I had gone off into the Maggot's Nest alone. I do have my means of getting in and out without incident, but this way, I can go in, and you don't need to be worried about me, since you'll be with me, ne? Secondly..." her face became more serious, "on meeting my parent, you will learn more about who, or what I am. I would like your evaluation of my parent when we are done with the visit."

"Well, I have explained why you are here. But the important question is: why am I here? It is because I need to figure out something, and so far, Kimyou-sama, my parent, is the only person who I'm sure can tell me what is wrong. But I shall tell you what my issue is, for who knows, you might find some insight to the problem that will help me. As you know, I have achieved my shikai. But there are two zanpakutou spirits inside, and only one of them manifests when I release. The other doesn't. Also, this second zanpakutou spirit keeps torturing me in my dreams. I'd like to figure out from my parent what is going on, and how to deal with this problem.

So, Oni-chan, ready to meet my parent?"


Satoshi Fuuko

[Satoshi Fuuko]

"Heh. I guess not." Fuuko said with a shrug about Iroka's picnic idea. She always had an interesting response, no matter what the subject was. and, whether it was because Fuuko liked Iroka, or clicked with her odd personality or Fuuko herself wasn't too much of a thinker to analyze what Iroka said, Fuuko always seemed to respond positively. 

Fuuko listened carefully as Iroka explained things. Her head titled and she scratched a boob while nodding gently towards the orangette. She was relieved that this wasn't some kind of mission, but that only begged the question as to why they were coming to a place like the Maggot's Nest in the first place. She also explained why Iroka used the Hell Butterfly and Fuuko palmed her forehead. Iroka, much like Fuujo was bred to be part of a different squad than the Yonbantai. She was inquisitive and smart and technical. She liked to take things apart and, apparently, not put them back together. She had the soul of a Juunibantai member that somehow ended up in the Yonbantai. 

"You need to learn some discipline, Iroka-chan. I don't wanna go ta Squad Thirteen every time I wanna say hello." Fuuko said. Maybe she could get her some kind of tamper proof Soul Phone. She relented, though. "Yer not wrong, though. It felt a lil special gettin one." Fuuko said with a smile to the orangette. A smile that faded as Iroka became introspective. And one that changed to a short laugh as Iroka made an implication about her intentions. 

"Ahh! Ha! Sis, I had no clue!" She teased. Fuuko leaned against Iroka and rubbed her cheek against Iroka's. "Forbidden love, you say? We can run away together, ne?" Fuuko purred as she let go of Iroka. "Ya, ya." She waved her hand, trying to calm down as things got serious again. Soul Society was a weird place. Even though her brother had come over from the world of the living to Soul Society, that's not how most "families" worked. Of course plenty were born in Soul Society, but they were usually nobility. Fuuko arrived with no one, having been separated from Kazuhiko. Her only family was an old Aunt named Yoko, though the obasan had taken Fuuko in as a daughter. Fuuko turned her head. She really needed to visit Yoko sometime, but it had been hard with being a Shinigami. 

"Hm." Fuuko snorted. "It's very dangerous." She looked around and leaned in close. "But... even if you had  wanted to break them out..." Fuuko nodded. She knew Iroka to only do things for a good reason. If her parent needed breaking out, there must be a good reason why. She was glad Iroka hadn't wanted that, though. Fuuko pursed her lips and nodded to Iroka. "Yosh. I know you can take care of yourself, but... to me, yer delicate and beautiful. The thought of anyone putting their hands on you just pisses me off!" Fuuko barked, pounding her fist info her palm. "And, unlike me, yer not one to run off half cocked! The people in there are dangerous. I definitely woulda worried." 

Everything seemed to be pretty normal, as normal as things were with Iroka, until she said something that gave Fuuko pause. She said who, or what. Fuuko knew exactly what Iroka was, didn't she? She was a shinigami just like Fuuko, right? "Y-Yeah, that's right." Fuuko said and nodded. She smiled to cover up her moment's hesitation. Unfortunately, Iroka continued, speaking plainly about a problem that seemed very  strange. Of course multiple zanpakutou spirits wasn't impossible, but the way she described them... Fuuko put a hand to her chin. 

"I am assumin you've been inside yer spirit's world?" She asked. "I got forced into mine to learn Shukketsubuki's name." She still recalled the daunting trials and exhaled. "What's it like in yer inner world?" She asked and then motioned to the cave entrance surrounded by the moat. "I'm ready. Let's go see this Kimyou of yers." 

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

The ginger-haired Shinigami covered her face with both hands, when Fuuko chided her mildly for her lack of restraint, when it came to taking gadgets apart. She gave a soft laugh and shrugged. "I can make no promises, Fuuko-chan," she answered, "but I shall try my best." It was unlikely even a tamper-proof Soul Phone would work. Iroka wasn't some inquisitive child trying to dismantle the phone because she could, but an actually skilled tinkerer with an insatiable curiosity. Perhaps the best deterrent to taking things apart was the one she had now: the lack of money to buy a new one.

"For-- forbidden love?!" Iroka stuttered in alarm, even as her cheeks reddened. "I never said such a thing!" There was a pause, as a look of confusion replaced the alarm. "Have we done something wrong? Why are we running away again?" Maybe the blonde was joking. But it was so hard to tell when people were being serious and when they were not. How did normal people keep track of conversations, with so many difficult-to-interpret messages?

Iroka smiled at her friend, as the latter showed how protective she was of Iroka. And that had been why Fuuko had been summoned here. Some would assume that she had brought her squad mate to the Nest of Maggots to serve as an extra layer of protection, but Iroka had not done so. Her calling Fuuko had simply been so that she would not have to explain herself to her friend as to why she decided to enter the Nest of Maggots alone. Since Fuuko was here, there would not need to be any explanations to be done, seeing as the both of them were entering the high-level prison together.

There was a short, quick nod, in response to Fuuko's question. "The first time I got into my zanpakutou spirit's world was when we faced off against the Flamingo Pervert," she replied. "It's a surprisingly nice place. When drawn into my inner world, I find myself on an island, with the ocean around it going off for miles around with no other body of land in sight. At the center of the island is a lake. A hill sits at the edge of the lake, and a waterfall pours from the hill and into the lake. There's a huge gate at the very top of the hill, framing the waterfall. My zanpakutou spirit is usually in the lake, while I stand on it."

There was a pause, and then Iroka's expression darkened with worry. "And then there's the other zanpakutou spirit. This one takes the form of a woman, although I have not been able to see her quite clearly, at this present time. But she walks the shadows at the edges of the island, and unlike my other zanpakutou spirit, who seems to be a part of the world, this spirit somehow seems as though she doesn't belong in my inner world. And yet, she is there. Unlike Shugyoku Hirenaga, this one refuses to tell me her name, instead just laughing when I ask for it. She is also quite rude and scary, and I don't really like talking with her."


Satoshi Fuuko

[Satoshi Fuuko]

Fuuko shook her head at Iroka's rather pitiful attempt to placate Fuuko. She let it go, though. Telling Iroka not to take something apart would be like telling Fuuko not to swear so much. It just wasn't going to happen. Fuuko would have to find a compromise somewhere. She scratched her chin and just laughed at Iroka's misunderstanding of her jest.

"I'll tell ya when yer older." Fuuko teased. "Or drunk, heh." Fuuko wondered what might happen if they were both drunk in the same room, though Fuuko had a pretty high tolerance for alcohol. She could drink just about anyone under the table. In the end, if Iroka drank, Fuuko would probably just end up making sure Iroka stayed out of trouble. That was fine for her to reverse the roles for once. 

What Iroka said next, however, surprised Fuuko. "Huh? Really?" It had been well after that that Fuuko had been brought into her own inner world. Thankfully, Iroka's descriptions knocked her out of her thoughts. She beamed. "Hey, mine too!" She chirped. It was nice, except for the parts that were horrible hellscapes, but as Fuuko learned,at least she had to go to them. "Oh! I have an Island and a lake and an Ocean in mine too!" She grinned. "The whole lake is surrounded by waterfalls in me! Shit!" Fuuko slapped Iroka's back. "We really are  sisters, aren't we?! Heh. My island has a forest and my spirit is usually just on the island gettin drunk and whinin about somethin."

The rest of what Iroka said, though. It did seem odd. Fuuko chewed on her lip and thought about it once Iroka finished. "Maybe it ain't one fer talkin? Maybe it's one ya gotta punch in it's dumb mouth!?" Fuuko said as she smacked her fist into her palm. "Heh." She grinned. "Though, that probably ain't yer type. If I could, I'd help ya with it, but I might feel a lil weird messin around inside yer head... er body er soul ... er whatever." 

Fuuko leaned in and gave Iroka a comforting hug. "It's gonna be ok, Sis. That's halfa why we're here, ain't it?" She said and smiled at Iroka as she pulled away. She fidgeted. "Is it gonna be hard findin yer parent?" Fuuko asked. "I guess there's no map, huh? I hear it's just kind of a real big empty space or somethin." 

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

Iroka blinked twice at Fuuko's teasing, expectedly failing to understand what the blonde meant. "I don't understand," she answered. "An increase in age is expected to be synonymous with more common sense and levelheadedness. The state of being drunk is quite the opposite. Or is there some secret stage of drunkenness which is like some form of enlightenment? If that's the case, then I think I'm beginning to understand why alcohol is so popular." Maybe she would try to attain that level of enlightenment, but she wasn't sure how. "Will you tell me how to gain enlightenment via alcohol, Fuuko-chan?"

Fuuko's zanpakutou world sounded incredible, with all its forests and waterfalls and stuff. Or maybe it actually sounded incredible because it wasn't Iroka's own inner world. As far as Iroka was concerned, an island and a lake and a waterfall were absolutely no big deal, as long as they were her own. Unbeknownst to herself, she was looking down on herself again. "Your inner world sounds amazing! I'm sure it would be an amazing sight to see," she gushed. "Sisters we are indeed!"

Perhaps her friend was right; perhaps the strange spirit within her was the defiant type, and simply needed some show of force to bring her around. With the posturing, threats and insults of that spirit, it did sound somewhat plausible. But Fuuko was right; Iroka was not inclined to go trying to beat up her zanpakutou spirits in order to get them to cooperate. As far as the carrot top was concerned, the road to power lay in synergy. She had to learn to work together with her zanpakutou spirits, understand them and what they wanted, and things would turn out right. She sensed some laughter within at the thought, though she couldn't tell why that cantankerous spirit found things funny.

Iroka hugged Fuuko back, grateful for the reassuring gesture. "I'm very sure my parent will have some insights into what's going on. Finding them shouldn't be so difficult. Although the Nest of Maggots seems to have quite a lot of tunnels going into the earth like some sort of crazy warren, I suspect we can ask the denizens in there of Kimyou-sama's whereabouts. They're quite unique in appearance, so I'm sure someone would have taken note of their presence. We may as well begin! Standing around won't see this endeavor to its successful completion."

So saying, Iroka walked over to the guard at the entrance to the prison, who had been watching the two Shinigami. After a quick verification of the paperwork, which all checked out properly, he reminded them that they could not venture into the prison with their zanpakutou. Nodding, Iroka surrendered her weapon, and waited for Fuuko to do the same. Once that was done, the guard opened the doors to admit the two women in. The doors shut behind them with an ominous clang, and Iroka turned to face Fuuko with an uncharacteristically bright smile. "This shouldn't be too difficult. We'll just find someone and ask them for directions."

The first prisoners they met were a group of seven, playing some card game. Without a care in the world, Iroka walked up to them and hailed the group. They turned and looked at the two Shinigami in surprise, and then there was a bit of murmuring among them. Then one of them rose to his feet, easily about 8 feet tall. "Well, what interesting little morsels we find in the pen today, wouldn't you say, boys?" he said. "Food sounds like a lovely idea, but I-- mmmph!" Iroka's words were cut off by the man's large hand clamping over her mouth.

He had just begun to say something about softness, when he shrieked and drew his hand away from Iroka's face, a set of dainty teeth marks imprinted deep in the skin between his thumb and index finger. Immediately, the other men began to take hostile postures, as well as try to surround the two Yonbantai Shinigami. "You'll pay for that, wench!" the giant spat. Iroka, however did not seem in the slightest fazed. "Money is useless to you here, so there's no point in me paying you anything," she replied coolly. "Now be a darling and tell me whether you've seen an inmate with bright pink hair, the same color as this lock of hair on my head."

The only response she got was menacing growls, as the gang closed in on them. Not looking perturbed in the slightest, Iroka turned to Fuuko, the enthusiastic smile still on her face. "Well, I did forget to mention that I am so useless at making negotiations or getting information from people, Oni-chan," she stated good naturedly. "I will advice that we leave these grouches to their game and look for someone who will be more helpful." Leaving the grouches to their game did seem like it would take a little bit of work, though.


Satoshi Fuuko

[Satoshi Fuuko]

"Sense ain't common, Sis. It's subjective and sometimes experience or alcoholic enlightenment, as ya say, is the only thing that can prepare someone fer certain things. Heh." Fuuko smiled at the orangette. She really was something. Even if the business today was serious, she was glad she was getting to spend more time with her friend. "Nnn, yeah...." Fuuko nodded at Iroka's words. The thought of seeing Iroka's naked body being impaled in the most gruesome manner she could think of invaded Fuuko's mind. She turned her head and shut her eyes. One part of her inner world was very nice, but if Iroka were to see everything inside of Fuuko... well, even Fuuko tried not to think of it and, oddly enough, it was so traumatizing that it was almost easy to ignore. Fuuko only had a brief flash of  reluctance when she handed off her Zanpalutou when they came to the entrance, but did so. She trusted in her own power and strength. 

"Hehe, yeah." Once again, Iroka's neverending naivety endlessly amused Fuuko. The girl didn't belong in this horrible world. She suddenly wondered, as they passed into the Maggot's Nest, how Iroka died and ended up in the Soul Society. The closing door snapped her out of her thoughts and she let Iroka lead the way for the moment, passively trailing behind her and looking around until they came across a small group relatively quickly. 

They didn't look like the best people to ask, but then, who would they ask? Everyone in here was dangerous and even Fuuko knew that the two ladies were very  attractive. She was disgusted by the man's words, but a little dumbfounded that Iroka still couldn't get the hint. She tensed up when iroka's mouth was covered, ready to pounce, but, as always, Iroka showed her resourcefulness. Fuuko grinned widely and puffed out her chest as the man backed away. "Guess the food bites back, huh, asshole?" fuuko said and gave Iroka a reassuring pat on the back. 


Fuuko laughed at Iroka's response. A deep, bellowing laugh as she cracked her knuckles. "Nah! Yer just warminin em up! It's called greasin the palm! Or, maybe good cop bad cop, huh?" Fuuko looked at the seven and then leaned against Iroka, putting an arm around her waist. "Ya see, Iroka here is lookin fer her parent. She gave ya a description, right? Shouldn't be too hard. She's bein real nice. I'm sure she likes ya, even! Iroka-chan here don'[t really hate anyone, far as I can tell. Lucky fer you fellows, I don't either, generally speakin. Unluckily for you..."

Fuuko didn't finish her words and she took a step forward and pulled her foot back. She kicked the eight foot giant as hard as she could between the legs.  "You chose ta deal with me insteada her, but... there's still time to deal with Iroka-chan, if ya got any sense..." Fuuko leered at the other men. "But... I would definitely prefer if ya wanted ta keep talkin ta me. Considerin how delicious ya all look!" Her golden eyes gleamed as she licked her lips and dared the men to come at her and Iroka. 

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

Fuuko seemed it would be a better idea to get the information needed from the men gathered there. Iroka wasn't sure why; after all, they did not seem eager to tell the two Shinigami what they needed to know. But Fuuko knew more of the world and how communication worked. She had probably seen something that, as usual, Iroka had failed to see. "Well, okay..." she said quietly, as Fuuko addressed the card players. Fuuko would be able to convince them; Iroka didn't know how, but she was sure of it. Because Fuuko was that dependable, as far as she was concerned.

The men did not seem particularly phased or intimidated by the blonde Shinigami, their expressions ranging from amused chuckles to disdainful sneers. Just how did two pretty girls intend to make them cooperate and spill whatever information they wanted? How and why these two had come into the Nest of Maggots was really nobody's concern. Their coming here had been a mistake, and these guys, who it seemed fate had designated to be the welcoming committee, seemed committed to the task of making Fuuko and Iroka wish they had never come here. The eight-foot fellow, who was obviously their leader, stepped forward, most likely intent on interrupting Fuuko.

He did not see the kick. As Fuuko's leg struck his family jewels, his body jumped reflexively, but his brain was already off, as it practically short-circuited due to the pain. The giant stood for a bit, not even bothering to cradle the assailed area, before collapsing backward, his eyes rolled up into his head. For a moment, nobody moved, all eyes turned towards their fallen leader. Then one of the others yelled, and all at once, they surged at the two Yonbantai Shinigami, three men to each girl, aiming to overwhelm and overpower them with sheer speed and numbers, if they could. Even though their boss was down, they were in the Nest of Maggots because they were dangerous. They wouldn't let two girls get the better of them.

As the Maggot's Nest inmate yelled, Iroka was already moving, suspecting there was going to be an attack. Seeing as there were six enemies, and the girls were surrounded, Iroka's plan was to make her opponents lose that advantage. She wouldn't worry about Fuuko, as she felt the blonde could probably even beat all six of them, if push came to shove. But perhaps here was a good way to show Fuuko that she was at least capable of holding her own in a fight. The orange-haired girl backpedaled quickly, driving her elbow into the face of the man behind her, the blow connecting with his nose. He yelled and grabbed his face, allowing her to slip behind him and put him between the other fellows rushing in.

The second fellow sidestepped his colleague, only to get a jab to the throat as soon as he stepped around his friend. Iroka had been careful to step such that she still put the fellow she had hit first between herself and the third one she had not yet attacked. If Iroka had punched him any harder, she would have probably broken his trachea. But her intention was not to kill, and seeing how well she understood the human anatomy, selecting weak spots to attack was child's play. The man doubled over as he clutched at his throat, and Iroka dropped him with a single slap with her cupped hand to his ear.

The third guy, realizing that he had made the foolish mistake of underestimating his opponent, fell back, to wait until his friend, who'd been elbowed in the face, was ready to fight again. But even though Iroka was often considered by many to be stupid, she was actually much smarter than she seemed, and immediately realized what he was trying to do. She rushed forward, in order to menace both men into forcing themselves to respond to her when they weren't ready. As she drew in close, the injured fellow reached out for her, just as the other guy drew back his arm to strike, but Iroka sidestepped again, so that the injured guy was between her and the yet unharmed guy. Putting an opponent between herself and another opponent meant both couldn't attack her at the same time, and she could have her eyes on them.

By now, the fellow with the broken nose was recovered enough to lunge at Iroka. She twisted out of the way, aiming a jab at his eye. He jerked his head away, only to realize it had been a feint, and she chopped the side of his exposed neck with her open hand, temporarily cutting off blood in his carotid artery and inducing immediate unconsciousness. But even as she did so, the third guy, realizing her plan, barreled into both of them. He knocked his companion out of the way, and threw a blow at Iroka, who had little space to dodge. Although she managed to block with both hands, the force of the punch sent her into the air, causing her to slam her back against the stony wall of the prison with a pained cry.

Intent on capitalizing on his advantage, he charged again, his hand wrapping around her throat, as he held her aloft. "Not so sprightly now, are you?" He turned to look at Fuuko. "If you try to attack me, I will-- aaargh!" He may have been much stronger than Iroka, but dislocating his pinky wasn't much of a chore for someone so knowledgeable about the human form. The man dropped her involuntarily, but tried to kick her viciously. This Iroka managed to dodge, even as she grabbed the man's outstretched leg, and kicked him in the side of his knee. She wasn't strong enough to break his knee, but he buckled, and that was enough.

Pushing forward, Iroka sent him off balance, and as both of them fell, Iroka used the motion of the fall to roll with him, with the end result being that he found himself sprawled on his stomach, and Iroka was holding one of his legs in an ankle lock. He could not kick Iroka, because she was practically lying on his other leg. Since he was much bigger than she was, the man attempted to outmuscle her and force her off him, but as soon as he attempted to move, the carrot-top placed pressure on his restrained ankle, causing him to yell in pain and give up his attempt. From the look on his face, it was clear that he was quite pissed that he had been placed in such a submission hold by a much weaker physical opponent. But the nice thing about many martial art holds was that if performed correctly, they could negate the advantage of physical strength.

"Now, be nice and tell us: have you seen my parent?" Iroka asked. "I'm not telling you shit!" he spat. "I'm not telling you bimbos anything! Or maybe I will, if you decide to do what I tell you to. Starting with the blonde bitch...." And so he proceeded to state a number of rather offensive things that he wanted to be done for him, in order to get any information from him. It was very likely that all he was trying to do was get Iroka angry, so she would make a mistake he could capitalize on. And he succeeded. But there was nothing to capitalize on.

Iroka, for her part, regarded herself so poorly that insults aimed at her did not annoy her. But Fuuko was a different matter. That girl was a sister to her. They had risked their lives for each other, and there was no one else in the world that would come running to help Iroka without caring what it might cost them, except Fuuko. Despite the fact that her squad mate was rather brash and rough around the edges, Fuuko still treated Iroka with a tenderness that was not very characteristic of the roughneck. But 'Oni-chan' had done this with enough consistency for Iroka to know that she wasn't faking her care. And at this point, Iroka realized that she'd never before been in a situation in which Fuuko was insulted so crassly. And this one infuriated her.

The first sign of something being wrong that Fuuko would notice would be the way Iroka's normally bright, expressive eyes grew cold. But the carrot-top did not speak. Instead, she slowly began to twist her arms which held the fellow's leg, and he began to scream, as she slowly places stress on the joints behind the man's ankle. First his screams were pained, infuriated curses, but the pain did not stop, so they soon turned to begging. Still, the pain did not stop; Iroka simply, slowly, placed more pressure on the joint, with the care and precision with which a confectioner decorated a birthday cake. It looked like she was enjoying it.

Soon the man began to talk. "The person you're looking for stays further in from the doors to the prison!" he yelled, desperation obvious in his voice, as all he wanted was for the pain to stop. "If you go 200 meters down, ask anyone there for Weird Pink! They'll know who you're talking about. I've told you everything I know. Please-- please stop...." He was crying now. It was only then that Iroka let him go, as she sat up, looking at the huddled form of sobbing man. Then she looked up at Fuuko, a tortured expression on her face. "I-- I didn't--" she started, before bursting into tears of her own.


Satoshi Fuuko

[Satoshi Fuuko]

Fuuko's eye gleamed as it seems the six men were willing to step up and go after the two of them for the sake of their boss, or for their own depraved desires.As they paired off and went after the two in groups of three, Fuuko pulled up her fists and watched all three rush her instead of fighting her one at a time. The mass of Muscle crashed into her from three sides, though the one coming at the middle took a hard punch to the gut, that threw him back and had him landing on his butt gasping for air before one arm was grabbed, then the other. 

The two goons held her at length and waited for the third one to rise slowly as he smirked and wiped some drool off his lips. He spat some obscenities at Fuuko, but she was barely paying attention as she watched the deft and precise way in which Iroka handled her own assaulters. As the thought to take advantage of Fuuko's distraction, he pulled back his fist and aimed a punch, but Fuuko slammed a foot into his belly, knocking him down and out of breath once more. 

The two men each released one of their hands' grips, to start punching Fuuko, but as she flexed, it became obvious that both hands would be needed to keep the Blonde held down. They either needed to wait for their friend, who was having a time of it, their boss, who was still downed, holding his jewels, or the others. They turned their head, along with Fuuko, to watch the Orangette's display. 

Fuuko cheered Iroka on with a bright grin. "Oi! Get em, Sis!" She encouraged. The third guy was up and Fuuko glanced his way. She aimed a kick at his stomach again, but he caught it. As he triumphantly, proclaimed his victory, Fuuko yanked her leg towards herself and jut out her other heel, slamming it into his nose. THis time as he fell backwards and blood trickled from  his nose, it was clear he wasn't getting back up anytime soon. With another down, and Iroka seemingly handling her three, Fuuko was about ready to finish the other two off, when one of the men Iroka had been sparring with said someting. Something very dumb. 

"Bimbos!?" "Fuuko's eyes lit up and she set her jaw. It was one thing to call her a bimbo. Fuuko wasn't really the brightest bulb in the box and she could be said to be fairly loose with her hedonism, but to mix Iroka up with that? Iroka was the very opposite  of a she didn't think it could get any worse, but the things that came out of the man's mouth damn near made Fuuko blush. Saying it about herself was one thing, she could handle being called names or cat called or even whatever horrible things the man was asking of them. But, again, to attach all of that to Iroka? Her own sister! Her best friend and squad mate!? Damn near the most important person in her life?

But Fuuko noticed something before she could react. Iroka's bright eyes went cold. Then, she slowly extracted information from the man. Fuuko's lip was curled i n a snarl. That anyone, would speak such a thing about Iroka. Her muscles flexed and the two men holding Fuuko could feel her muscles flexing. Before they could figure out a plan of action, Fuuko growled and swung them both forward until their heads smashed against one another. Both of them hit with a resounding and sickening smack and then slumped to the ground. 

That was about the time when Iroka finished up and realized what she had done. Fuuko's grin, and hopes to compliment the orangette quickly faded as Iroka burst into tears.  Fuuko's eyes immediately widened and with q flash, she was nextg to Iroka. "S-Sis!" She stuttered. Her hand went around Iroka's waist and her other hand slid into the range hair and brought her in for a deep hug. 

'Shhh, shhh, shhh... it's ok, sis, you did great." Fuuko cooed as she ran her fingers along Iroka's hair. "Don't worry about any of that shit. We're not that far from yer parent." With that, Fuuko scooped Iroka up and held her close in her strong arms. "Let's get away from these jerks." Fuuko said and cradled Iroka tightly. She then hopped forward and landed, with one of her heels smashing into the guy's face that talked shit. She then used the man's face to spring them forward, shunpo style deeper into the Nest. When they were far enough away from the seven brutes, Fuuko stopped moving and set Iroka down. 

"Are ya ok, Sis?" She asked, keepitn a gentle hand on Iroka's shoulder. 

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

Still sobbing, Iroka returned the hug, allowing her friend to carry her, as she cried into Fuuko's shoulder. This was one of the reasons she hated getting angry, because she often did things that she deeply regretted when her ire was up. Of course, the downside of it was that people often walked all over her because she did not get angry as often as was expected. But Iroka was fine with bearing that cross. It was easier to live with herself that way. at least, even if people thought her weird, or at least mad, the general consensus was that she was good-natured. But wasn't she just trying to please everyone by not getting angry often?

Thinking more about it, Iroka was not really trying to please people by not being angry with them. Of course, it would be wonderful if everyone liked her, but despite her naievete, Iroka was well aware of the fact that not everyone would be fond of her. Her preference for not getting angry was simply because she didn't like hurting people. The expressions and sounds of pain worried her. Another testament of her failure as a Shinigami. The best Shinigami was a killing machine. Iroka despised killing, hurting people even. It was a wonder that she had advanced to her present position. Then again, maybe she had just been downplaying the efforts she had put in developing to where she currently was.

As Fuuko set Iroka down, the orange-haired girl sniffed and rubbed her nose with the sleeve of her shihakushou, looking up at her friend and nodding in response to her question. "Yes, Oni-chan, I'm fine now," she replied, a sad smile on her face, as she regained full control of herself. "Thank you for always taking good care of me. I'm such a miserable wreck." There was a short pause, and then Iroka turned back in the direction she had come. "I-- I need to check on that guy... see if he's okay. It won't take long, Fuuko-chan, I promise."

Whether Fuuko chose to attempt to keep her from returning to the entrance area of the Nest of Maggots or not, a little time passed, before a voice spoke out from the shadows. "Care should be taken as to how one treats their friends, Ginger-head." A fellow who looked like he was in the later stages of middle-age came out of the darkness, a smile on his face, his half-closed eyes making him seem as not threatening in the least. And yet, he was in a prison which had rather dangerous people in their own rights. In any case, he was obviously not Iroka's parent, as he had black hair with greying wings, and as such could not be whom they were looking for.

Iroka turned to face the man. "I don't understand," she said. "Well, judging by the speed with which your friend arrived with you, and your emotional state when you came here, I suspect she was rescuing you from something unpleasant," he replied. "Trying to go back again is like spitting on her efforts." Iroka's eyes widened, and then she turned to Fuuko, bowing deeply. "I'm so sorry, Fuuko-chan. I've always been stupid." She turned to the old man. "Thank you very kindly, Ureshigame-jisan!" He blinked in confusion. "Ureshi-- why are you calling me a happy tortoise?"

"Because you look like a very wise, respectable, cheerful tortoise, sir," Iroka answered in her blunt, truthful fashion. The man threw back his head and laughed. "Ureshigame... I like that. You're an odd one, Ginger-head." He paused as though a thought had crossed his mind, as he peered in a scrutinizing way at Iroka. "Hey, you related somehow to Weird Pink?" The orangette's expression became hopeful. "You know of Kimyou-sama?" she asked, taking a step forward. "Yeah, and I can see the resemblance," he replied. "Go further down, just like a hundred meters or so, and you should find them. They usually haunt that area."

Iroka bowed again, this time to Ureshigame. "You are so kind," she said in gratitude. "How did someone as nice as you get to be stuck in this horrible place?" The man gave a dolorous smile. "Mostly the fact that my zanpakutou was a permanent-release type, and it had the weird ability to turn all my bodily fluids to poison. So yeah, I'm not safe around people." It was then that Iroka noticed that he had stayed a bit further away than was normal for people having discussion. "Well, I don't need to tell my sob story to two lovely ladies. I'd have said 'see you around', but that's a dangerous thing to say."

And he was gone. Iroka turned to Fuuko. "This world is so unfair, don't you think?" she asked, a thoughtful note in her voice, before heading in the direction Ureshigame had pointed out to them. Soon they arrived in another wide space, though this one was smaller than the entrance room. A gaunt, wild-looking woman spotted them, and began moving towards them, an ominous smile on her face. "Ah, I see we have some nice-looking visitors here today, don't we?" she said in a voice that made Iroka's skin crawl. "Which one of you would mind me stealing your face? I'll do more justice to--"

"Obakebara! Disappear!!" a voice suddenly hissed from further away. The woman who had been called Obakebara froze, paled, and then shuffled off, obviously frightened out of her wits. If anyone turned in the direction of the hiss, they would see a short Shinigami, slightly taller than Iroka, reclining carelessly on a rock slab. It was impossible to tell whether they were male or female, but they looked maybe a little above forty, if they had been human. What would stand out, though, would be this character's head full of bright pink hair, of the same shade as Iroka's forelock. And their chartreuse eyes, the same color as Iroka's.

Stepping forward hurriedly, Iroka dropped to her knees before the reclining figure and threw out her hands as she bowed, pressing her head to the ground in a gesture of reverence that would be rare for children of even the most austere parents to display. "Konnichiwa, Kimyou-sama!" she said, her head still pressed to the ground. There was no response. "I have come to see you, and I brought an auspicious friend. She is Satoshi Fuuko, of the Yonbantai, and an amazing person in all ramifications." There was no response. Iroka paused uncertainly, then continued: "I have come because I need to speak with you. I have urgent questions that need answering."

There was no response. Instead, Weird Pink, or the one known outside the Nest of Maggots as Kimyou of the Junibantai, simply sat there unmoving, for all the world like a statue, or a corpse. And yet, if one looked at their face, one would notice that they were anything but lifeless. Even though Kimyou did not blink, their gaze rested unflinchingly on Fuuko's face, staring into the amber-colored eyes of the blonde Shinigami. And though Iroka and Kimyou could be said to have the same eyes, their gazes were entirely different, Kimyou's gaze having about as much warmth as a pit-viper staring at an unwitting rat.


Satoshi Fuuko

[Satoshi Fuuko]

Once Fuuko had set Iroka down and the orangette started to collect herself, Fuuko smiled softly. She gave Iroka's Shihakushou a tug and a brush down with her hand to make sure it wasn't wrinkled. Then she carefully took her thumb and wiped away any remaining tears. "Oi, don't say that." Fuuko admonished quietly as Iroka was always apt to speak the worst about herself. "I... just don't want ya ta ruin yer makeup." Fuuko said with a small blush as she was complimented. Not that either of them needed to doll up here. in fact, it probably would have helped to undoll up. So it was, though. Fuuko was hoping that Iroka was ready to keep marching forward, but when she was so eager to go check on the man she had hurt. Fuuko hadn't thought twice about kicking a man's jewels into his throat and, probably breaking the other three's noses. As far as she was concerned, they had gotten what they had deserved when they knew Fuuko and Iroka wouldn't even be in the Nest if they couldn't take the brutes. She hadn't even felt remorse for doing what she did to the man Iroka was now tearing up over. Fuuko grimaced. What would Iroka think of Fuuko's mote of vengeance?

"I don't think we need to..." Fuuko said, trying to keep Iroka where she was when the turtle man suddenly spoke up with some rather sage advice. Fuuko exhaled and then looked at Iroka and shook her head. "It's ok, sis." She then looked at the turtle man. "Thanks, old man." She said with a nod. She laughed softly as the man called Iroka odd. Wasn't hat an understatement, but Fuuko felt sure he meant it not as an insult. That's how Fuuko felt about it too. Iroka was an oddity, but not one to be put under glass, more like a Unicorn. A beautiful, singular creature, that needed to roam free. 

As Ureshigame explained himself, Fuuko rubbed her chin. "Oi! Even yer piss!? Even if ya knuckle up!?" Fuuko made an up an down motion with a closed fist. "Fuck that. I'm so sorry, old man." Fuuko blurted, genuinely sorry for the ojisan, despite laughing at her crudeness. He was gone as fast and as mysteriously as he came and Fuuko put a hand on Iroka's back. "Don't think about it too hard, Sis. If ya do, then you'll find this world is as depressin as it gets. You'll start ta think everythin ya have ya didn't earn and that's dangerous. It ain't our job ta decide what's fair. It's our job ta uphold the cycle of life. Maybe it's callous, but we gotta fight the battles we can actually  fight, ya know? It's important ta not die on an unnecessary or impossible hill." Fuuko hissed, weighed down by her own philosophy, which told her that not every problem was her problem. 

"Anyway." 

That was when they were accosted by another guest of the Maggot's Nest, only for her to be quickly dismissed by Iroka's apparently parent- by Kimyou. As they approached and Iroka prostrated herself before the sitting being, Fuuko bowed respectfully as well She didn't bend her knees, or fall tot he ground, but she gave her respect. Unfortunately, Kimyou didn't seem to want to answer Iroka's questions, or even Iroka's presence at all! Fuuko pursed her lips as Iroka continued to lay on the ground. 

The silence began to irritate Fuuko after a moment and she furrowed her brow. "Oi!" She barked finally. "Ain't she yer daughter?!" Fuuko said, thumbing at Iroka.

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

There was a slight change in Kimyou's demeanor, when Fuuko barked at them, as though they were surprised and irritated by the outburst. But the expression was gone as soon as it registered, and a slight smile played on the pink-haired Shinigami's lips. "So what if she is?" Kimyou asked in a voice that uncannily sat on the exact medium range of human vocal intonation. It was almost a robotic drone, and yet not quite; it almost seemed forgettable, and yet there was something more behind the almost monotonal sound that made it unique in its own way. One could say it was as unique as it was ordinary.

As the Shinigami nicknamed Weird Pink stirred, more light fell on their features, and it became quite obvious to one who was familiar with Iroka's features, that the two were definitely related. Their pink hair, although shorn at the shoulders, was of the same texture as Iroka's. Their head shape was the same as that of Iroka's as well, although the cheek bones were higher and more pronounced. Kimyou's face would have been said to be good-looking, like their daughter's but there was something unsettling about the way their eyes stared, that greatly reduced the aesthetic value of their face. There was even something of their frame that seemed reflected in Iroka's: the delicate but graceful limbs, and lack of great physical stature.

Kimyou rose, their eyes still on Fuuko, as they began to walk slowly towards the blonde Shinigami. "You are more interesting to me, you who accompany my... daughter." There was some vitriol in the way that last word was said. "But I forget my manners." Stopping beside the still prostrated form of Iroka, Kimyou bowed, a similar gesture that Fuuko had made. "I am Kimyou, former Shinigami of the Junibantai, but I'm sure you would know that by now." Then Kimyou squatted beside Iroka and placed a hand gently on her head. "I suppose I should thank you for taking care of this... thing."

With a sudden motion, they grabbed a fistful of Iroka's hair and yanked her to a kneeling position. The orange-haired Shinigami made a pained whimper, but did not attempt to resist Kimyou, otherwise. "My greatest failure... my magnum opus...." With a gentleness that would be rather shocking, given the savagery with which they had treated Iroka, Kimyou gently caressed her face, as they let go of her hair. Parent's and child's eyes met, and Iroka smiled, a careful, nervous, but happy smile. Kimyou's face was as expressive as a plain sheet of paper. "Pathetic."

"While I have no intention of giving answers to something that doesn't deserve my attention, I am willing to speak to you, Satoshi-dono," Kimyou said, returning to their reclining slab, and laying on it again. "I know why she is here. I do not care." Iroka, now on her hands and knees, bristled, but said nothing. "You, however, Satoshi-dono seem like a worthy person. You may ask me whatever you want, on the agreement that I also am allowed to ask you any questions that come to mind, and that you answer." Iroka rose to her feet. "Mother, I--"

"Silence!"


Satoshi Fuuko

[Satoshi Fuuko]

"What?" 

Fuuko balked at Kimyou's response to Fuuko's words. Her head tilted and she narrowed her eyes at such casual disrespect. She had come with Iroka because Iroka was her friend. She didn't care how dangerous the Maggot's Nest was, but she had not expected what was in front of her. She had not expected Iroka's parent to act like iroka wasn't even there while speaking. Fuuko raised an eyebrow when Kimyou called her interesting. Her muscles tensed and she felt like she was fastly approaching fight or flight mode as Kimyou stood up. 

Fuuko inhaled and her golden eyes flickered as Kimyou called Iroka a thing. If Iroka hadn't been here, Fuuko may have already punched Kimyou and she kept saying to herself inwardly that this was all for Iroka's sake and Fuuko needed to behave. She needed to just be there for Iroka, even as Kimyou grabbed Iroka's hair. Fuuko's lip curled and she bared a fang at Kimyou and tensed even more, showing an aggressive, ready to pounce stance to the being until Kimyou finally backed off.  

The aggression was caught off guard when Kimyou spoke Fuuko's name. Did she introduce herself? She didn't remember it... how would Kimyou know unless Iroka had been here before? Fuuko pondered it until Iroka tried to speak, only to be barked at. Fuuko took a step forward and leered at Kimyou. "Listen here!" She barked and then glanced at Iroka. Fuuko's lips pursed and she turned and faced the orangette. She leaned in, set a hand on the small of Iroka's back and raised her hand to cup Iroka's cheek and turn her head. "Look at me." Fuuko said quietly. "I won't let them treat ya like that. I ain't playin any stupid, fuckin game." Fuuko turned her head and looked at Kimyou. 

"Yer the pathetic one! Bringin Iroka-chan into this world and then gettin tossed down here? Iroka-chan is beautiful! Inside an out and she deserves way more than what I seen from you so far! In fact the only reason I don't beat the shit outta you is because I know it would hurt Iroka-chan, even though she should be glad  ta see it!" Fuuko snorted. "Now... Sis has some questions and you can either answer em or I make ya answer em."

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

Kimyou stared at Fuuko with an irritated look, when the latter snapped at them. It was obvious they liked having their way, and would likely not do well in places in which there were chains of command in which Kimyou was not seated at the top. Then the irritation faded to an impassive stare, as Fuuko spoke to Iroka. Their knowledge of Fuuko's name was quite simple: Iroka had introduced the blonde Shinigami as soon as she had spoken to her parent. This was proof that Kimyou was attentive to what their daughter said; it was simply likely that they were attempting to play a power game and show superiority over Iroka, something which was not needed.

Iroka's eyes met Fuuko's as the blonde Shinigami asked her to look at her. Even without saying a word, the pain was evident in her eyes. But she smiled at Fuuko, an expression done so flawlessly that it was evident that it had been practiced for many years. Not a pretentious smile, but a smile that indicated the carrot-top's decision to attempt to hold to the little moments of happiness in a generally depressing life. "Thank you," she whispered. Still, she reached out and gently held Fuuko's arm, as though she were beseeching her not to chew her parent up one side and down the other.

Kimyou, for their part, watched Fuuko silently, as the Yonbantai powerhouse made her demands. Then they laughed, an utterly alien drone that didn't sound like any living creature could make it. "Me? Bring that thing into this world?" There was a pause, and a thoughtful frown crossed their features. "Hmmm... but maybe that is somehow correct; I am responsible, after all, for her existence. Yes, Iroka is beautiful. It is to be expected. She was made to be so, after all. What, she never told you anything about the interesting circumstances of her 'birth'?" That last word oozed with sarcasm.

"I-- I would have told you, I promise!" Iroka said to Fuuko, her voice pleading and at the same time defensive. It would become clear that she had been a victim of such constant gaslighting that even an accusation such as this, that truthfully held no water, would make her believe that she was somehow in the wrong. "I had been trying to figure out how to tell you, but the opportunity never presented itself, either in discussion or otherwise. I'm sorry for not telling you; we're close friends and yet I've kept such important information from you." One would think that Fuuko and Iroka were in a relationship, and the latter had been caught cheating, with the way she was apologizing.

Kimyou, meanwhile, sat and watched, a sadistic smile on their face. "Before you start trying to blame me for anything, Satoshi-dono, you should understand our places in this world. The weak and sniveling wimps are food for the strong." There was a Japanese proverb that said so, after all. "Iroka has always been weak. I don't know what you see in her that you would keep trying to pull her up to your level. You seem to be the kind of person that when you want something, you go for it, never minding the protests of the weak, and you take it. My kind of person. You should cut off the excess weight."

The pink-haired Shinigami adjusted themselves to be more comfortable on the stone slab on which they reclined. "Let me give you an interesting example. You just gave me a demand. If that spineless wretch wasn't here, chances are that you'd beat me up and have your way if I refused to accede to your demands. But she, being present, will not let you. Do you not see now how she holds you back? So, being the curious person that I am, I'd like to see how you'd make me answer the questions of this weakling who has tied your hand. You insult yourself by calling her your sister."

"Mother!" Iroka said with a pained gasp. "I'm not lying, am I? Or do you dare insinuate such?" Kimyou spat vitriolically. Fuuko would feel Iroka tense, but she replied, "I-- I'm not weak. I'm currently the 5th seat of my Division." Kimyou could not hide their surprise. But then the pink-haired inmate said snidely, "Oh? To whom did you offer favors for that privilege?" It was here that Iroka's penchant to take things literally helped her. "No one!" she replied, a hint of pride in her voice. "I fought for it."

Kimyou didn't look convinced. "Maybe it was your friend that did everything for you and allowed you take the credit. She seems like a really nice person. But I must warn you, Satoshi-dono," here, Kimyou's cold chartreuse eyes fixed on the blonde Shinigami. "Kind people are fools. And they die early. It would not be in your best interests to be kind. On second thought, your compassion is good in this case, if you cut Iroka off. It would be kindness towards her. She depends too much on you."


Satoshi Fuuko