Telltale Heart

[Satoshi Fuuko]

Fuuko couldn't remember the last time she had slept. Ever since her last visit to her inner world, she had spent a lot of on duty time taking extra shiftsz. Doing menial work that most officers wouldn't get caught dead doing. She did a lot of the sweeping duties that kept her away from everyone. She'd taken any and every job that could keep her away fromt he barracks. Away from the captain, away from Iroka, away from anything and everything. 

The only sleep she got was when her body shut itself down and she simply passed out. It had been horrible and made her even more of a miserable person to be around than she normally was. Though, she was hardly that way with  her squadmates. When she was off duty, she would bunch as much of it together so that she could be gone for days without having to worry about anything. The pachinko parlours and gigai trips to dens of ill repute were starting to be unable to keep her thoughts and feelings from bubbling up over the surface. 

Fuuko had no clue what to do. She had everything she wanted when she joined the academy, graduated and entered as an eager young Shinigami. She had power, prestige and position. She had gotten her promotion to third seat as the only gesture of compromise to her sworn sister, Iroka. She had also  thought that if she had the third seat that no one would think to ask her about Bankai. Bankai. It was the only thing she thought about. It was the thing that had driven her. She knew the second she got Bankai, she could take  the Yonbantai captaincy by force if she had to. It was the only  position she wanted... 

Having Bankai took away everything she had thought she wanted and left her with the ability to only do things she absolutely dreaded. Her brother had left her, supposedly to be able to climb the ranks. Something he couldn't do in the yonbantai. Something Fuuko never would have thought she would have heard her brother say. He had seemed so altruistic and yet, that  was in him? Not only that, but he moved to Squad 11? The one squad he knew  Fuuko had dreamed of being in. It had felt like a dagger was stabbed in her back. SHe couldn't face him. Not yet. 

Not to mention, she couldn't vie for thw captaincy. To be able to wield her Bankai meant... She couldn't think  of what it meant. She had lived to protect. She had died  to protect and now she couldn't. Iroka was the one who would have to protect her. It was a sad, sorry state and Fuuko  was not  able to fill the void and despair in her with booze, sex, Tabaco or any of the other vices that usually satisfied her. She woke up in a cold sweat and looked around. What could she do? 

She threw on enough clothes to not be naked, which wasn't much more than a pair of panties, some slippers and a baggy tank top. She also grabbed Shukketsubuki and headed out the door. She couldn't even train  her Bankai... the second she even said it's name, she was doomed. She just had to convince everyone that she didn't have it. That she didn't want it and that she was perfectly content with her position as third seat for... the rest of her life...

Fuuko sighed deeply. It didn't matter. She only had to convince Iroka. She could do that by giving her blessing for the Vice -Captaincy. Fuuko was sure that Iroka would be so happy that she wouldn't question anything else. Iroka was, unfortunately, pretty smart, so she might notice a change in behavior, but she could get lost in her own thoughts too. She just had to play it cool. Fuuko stopped as she approached Iroka's place and patted her bare hips and chest, looking for her cigarettes. 

"Fuck..." She had left them back home. 

Fuuko sighed. She would have to calm her nerves a different way. She hoped  Iroka was asleep as she reached for the door and turned it to see if it was open. If it was, she could just quickly break the door handle and enter. Iroka would probably enjoy fixing it or something. Really, Fuuko was hoping  Iroka was asleep, so she could just crawl in bed with her sister. Some late night spooning might actually  get Fuuko to sleep and she was sure Iroka wouldn't mind. She'd be confused, but at least this time  Fuuko had no intentions of being lewd or crude. She really did just want the company of her best friend and sworn sister and she wanted as much as she could get without having to explain herself. 

[Munemasa Iroka]

Iroka was in a good mood. She had successfully stolen the Denreishinki of some idiot who had badmouthed the desk officer on duty in the clinic, and had successfully evaded detection. It was fun to hold some degree of authority in the Gotei 13. When the disrespectful twerp had discovered his communication device was missing, he had tried to cause trouble, but was summarily turned out by Iroka, who, even though she suspected that she could wipe the floor with him if they had fought, rubbed it in his face that she outranked him, and he had to follow her directives, or receive a scathing letter to his superior officers.

But it wasn't really the use of Iroka's seated position that had given her joy. It was the fact that the stolen Denreishinki was a rather high-spec one, and taking it apart had been a delight. She had spent the greater part of the evening doing all sorts of unspeakable things to the phone, and had finally left it in a state in which no one would have an idea that it was the device that had been stolen. To be fair to Iroka, it was still functional, except that it was now a glorified alarm clock/music player/metronome/white noise generator. All in the name of Science!

Having achieved her unholy designs on the poor device, Iroka had eaten something for the night, taken a shower, and retired to bed, pleased with the workings of the world. It was a slightly warm night, comfortable for the average Shinigami, but for someone with Iroka's particular affliction, it felt sweltering. So she had gone to sleep in a set of undies designated solely for sleepwear. They were quite minimal in their coverage, but for someone whose body overheated often, going to sleep all covered up was likely to have her waking up the next day with a fever. Besides, it wasn't as though she ever felt uncomfortable in such clothes.

Of course, being a prudent person, Iroka often locked her door when she slept. Initially, it had simply been because she was unwilling to have some curious bumpkin with no idea of personal space entering her room. But since she had begun to have interactions with Mushoku, her inner Hollow, Iroka had been more judicious in keeping her door locked. She had no idea whether the Hollow was capable of taking over her body when she slept, and if that happened, hopefully a locked door could be enough damage control before she was able to wrest control back from the creature. She had often tried to communicate with Mushoku, but the Hollow had only ever been insulting and uncooperative.

When Fuuko arrived, breaking the door handle would not be in the slightest bit difficult, the lock practically crumbling in the hands of the 'Red Oni' of the 4th Division. Fuuko would note how immaculately organized Iroka's room was, except for the specific area around her designated workstation, which was a curious mix of islands of well-kept propriety in a sea of utter chaos. and in the center of Iroka's worktable sat her newest fancy toy, whirring away silently as it told the time. 2:13am in the morning. Only sentries, or people with unusual motives would be out and about.

Through it all, Iroka remained blissfully unaware, a picturesque image of serenity. She lay on her back, although slightly turned to one side, with her silky ginger tresses freed from their usual ponytail and scattered around her head in an unkempt grace. The light of a half moon coming in through the window bathed the somnolent form in an almost unearthly light. Her chest slowly rose and fell as her measured breathing indicated that she had not been roused by her sworn sister's intrusion. This was one of the few nights Iroka enjoyed sleep free of maddening dreams.

Iroka did not waken when Fuuko gently got into bed with her. Although the bed was sized for one person, it was a little larger than an average single bed, and Iroka's small form meant that there was sufficient space for Fuuko to lie down. The ginger-haired girl only shifted slightly and muttered something incoherent. However, no sooner had Fuuko relaxed into position and gotten comfortable, than Iroka turned abruptly. She was obviously still asleep, but Fuuko's disturbance of the bed had made Iroka unconsciously seek to adjust her body to maintain maximum comfort.

With this literal turn of events, Iroka was now facing her. Although still asleep, the carrot-top pushed forward, snuggling her head in Fuuko's ample bosom. Her hair smelt of soap, peaches, a whiff of burnt electronics, and curiously, ink, although there were no evident signs of ink anywhere. Despite the cool night breeze blowing, there was a light sheen of sweat on her skin. "So soft..." she muttered unconsciously.

[Satoshi Fuuko]

Fuuko managed to get in without disturbing Iroka. A glance in the moonlight made her smile as she looked around. She had been to Iroka's place countless times, but it never failed to bring a small smile to her face. As much as they were different, they were definitely a lot a like. Fuuko's own place was equally immaculate, with only bits of messes in small, contained areas. Despite having a fiery, chaotic personality, Fuuko craved structure all the same. She set her zanpakutou down on the floor as she slipped carefully into bed and yawned. No blankets to pull over hseself. It's ok. She wasn't the snow bunny Iroka was, but Fuuko ran a bit hot too. She didn't mind a cool breeze on a summer night. 

She was ready to wrihhle up to Iroka when, suddenly, the orangette turned and snuggled right up against Fuuko's rather ample chest. Fuuko froze, holding her breath and then let Iroka snuggle against her properly. She exhaled slowly and then leaned in and kissed the top of Iroka's head. "Ahh...' She breathed. "I lova ya, sis." She whispered and reached up and gentley ran her fingers through Iroka's hair. As she looked over her sister, she began to think. Once again she could see Shukketsubuki. The oni girl who represented Fuuko's inner spirit. Her soul  to a degree. All the shit with learning shikai was tough, painful and downright weird, but she had no trial for Bankai. She imagined that most others did. That achieving bankai was an arduous process. Shukketsubuki just handed it to her. Like it was no big deal. 

It was, though. She had explained it. The Bankai, Nenrou Funsha Jisatsu Kikai, only wanted death. It didn't want to fight, it wanted to kill. It was blinding rage and gate distilled into something tangible. Something nearly unkillable. Something like that could only exist in short bursts and if it wasn't satisfied, then Fuuko  would be the one to serve as the target of its ire. It didn't care  that it would destroy itself in the process. It was something even a hollow would fear. Fuuko could only think that Nenrou Funsha Jisatsu Kikai had only one purpose and that purpose was to make sure that one of the two women lying in the bed right now ceased to exist in their current form. Iroka, if her Inner Hollow took over and she lost control and Fuuko herself - if she wasn't strong enough to kill Iroka. 

Hot tears dripped down Fuukos face and she closed her eyes. Fuuko put an arm loosely around Iroka and tried to clear her mind. She couldn't understand why she was so overcome with doubt. Everything seemed so wrong. She'd never been afraid of anything, especially not dying, so why was she suddenly so consumed by it? She wrapped a few of Iroka's unbound locks in her fingers and reached up to pull her own ponytail out, but stopped. Fuuko let her arm fall limp and sighed before pushing all her thoughts away. Iroka's soft breath against her chest was comforting and Fuuko smoled again. Iroka;'s cent was familiar to her. Fuuko herself smelled like smoke and the sweet cloves she packed into her pipe mixed with musky and assertive sweat and just a hint of iron, like no matter what she did, the odor of all the blood she was around couldn't quite get scrubbed off. A similar, yet contrasting scent to Iroka. 

"Heh." 

One last grunt of thought before Fuuko finally kicked a leg over Iroka's and let her leg slide back until their heir heels touched. When Fuuko finally drifted off to sleep, she found the peace she was looking for. Whether it was mental exhaustion, the comforting touch of someone familiar or just a change of scenery, Fuuko slept as well as she ever had. She had ended up flat on her back, as much on the bed as she could be. The rest of her hung off. There was a little bubble that threatened to pop coming out of Fuuko's nose. Her mouth was opene and she snored softly. Her free hand snuck under her shurt and gently scratched the boob Iroka was not nestled against. 

Fuuko had no clue if she was out for an hour, a minute or a day, but her eyes shot open and she sat up, gasping for air. "Where the fuck am I!?" Fuuko bleated as her eyes started to adjust. Before she even realized where she was, Fuuuko was looking around confused. She was having trouble clearing the fog from her brain. She was gasping heavily, like someone who had been forced underwater and just made it to the surface before they drowned. 

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

As Iroka slept, she had a dream. It was not one of her usual nightmares; as a matter of fact, it was as wholesome as she could expect, if a little strange. As a matter of fact, Iroka could not remember the details, but that mattered little. If the dream did not get her screaming into wakefulness, it was a good dream. But there were fluffy things, and she was nestled against the biggest one. It was so comforting....

A sudden motion awoke the ginger-haired girl. It had been Fuuko suddenly bolting upright, and with Iroka's head resting on her chest (which had happened when Fuuko had turned over on her back), the motion had awakened Iroka. She heard a question asked, and didn't even consider for the moment that she had gone to sleep alone, and as such was supposed to be waking up alone. "My room?" she answered groggily, sitting up slowly.

It was then her brain informed her that she was supposed to have woken up alone. There was a flash of wariness and alarm, and Iroka unconsciously attempted to grab for a blanket with which to cover her half-naked form. There wasn't any, though, but that didn't matter when she realized who was sitting in bed with her. The fact that she considered Fuuko completely worthy of her trust was enough to make her not feel uncomfortable, even though Fuuko had not been with her when she had fallen asleep. It did beg the question as to what her sister was doing in her room.

"Ohayo, Oni-chan," Iroka said drowsily, before yawning with a languid stretch. If she had any concerns about what Fuuko was doing in her room, she didn't seem to pay too much attention to it. The carrot-top flopped back onto her back, rolled over, and stretched slowly again, this time like a cat, her hands stretched out in front of her, and her shapely posterior in the air. "So, what are you doing here?" The question was asked with the utmost casualness. Anyone else in her room would have elicited a ballistic response. Fuuko, however, was not anyone else.

Satoshi Fuuko

[Satoshi Fuuko]

Fuuko was still panting when she heard Iroka's voice. She immediately whipped around and stared at Iroka like the woman was a a total stranger. She couldn't get her body to settle down and she looked down at Iroka's practically nude body. She looked down at her own equally scant covered body and then up at the ceiling. 

"Sis..." Fuuko muttered to herself and looked down at the palms of her hands. As Iroka stretched, Fuuko flopped back onto the bed. "You need a bigger bed." She said finally. "I think... I could sleep like that every night if I wasn't worried about fallin off." Fuuko blinked and then sat up. She yawned and then slipped a hand under her shirt and scratched her chest. 

"Wait..." Fuuko said and rubbed her temples. "I'm here for a reason." She said. "Not just the nap. That was an executive decision." She said and tilted her head. "Fuuuuuuck. I don't remember. I gotta piss." She announced crudely. "You want me to make us breakfast when I'm done?" Fuuko asked as she turned. She put one foot down and felt her zanpakutou touch the sole of her foot. 

Fuuko gasped and then slumped. She remembered it all once she touched Shukketsubuki. "Shit.." Fuuko said and slumped. She then stepped off the bed and knelt down. She lowered her head  to Iroka and exhaled. "Sis..." She breathed. "I know things have been kinda difficult between us. I know it's mostly been my  fault too... I just wanna say..." Fuuko shut her eyes. 

"...I want you to be the Yonbantai Fukutaichou...." She let the words spill out of her. "Who knows how long it's gonna be before I become captain, so .. it just ain't fair fer me to hold ya back like that." Fuuko nodded, then closed her eyes tightly She could feel tears threatening to make her look like a total pussy in front of Iroka. "I just, uh... came to my senses, I guess." Fuuko said, trying to hide everything else from Iroka. 

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

Fuuko seemed very disoriented. Iroka felt she did not have to wonder why. Not because she had ever seen Fuuko like this before, but because Iroka suspected the blonde might have had a strange dream, the sort that seemed so real such that when one was pulled back to the waking world, they had little to no idea of where, or perhaps even what, they were. It was a bit odd, though to see Fuuko look at her as a stranger, though relief set in when recognition appeared in Fuuko's eyes.

"A bigger bed is counterproductive, for me at least," Iroka replied, not seeing what Fuuko was saying. "Because I'll see the extra space, and end up trying to convert it into some sort of mini work station. And falling off beds is fun! As long as it isn't a tall bunk. Besides, the floor is often so mcuh cooler than a bed. But germs...." she unconsciously shivered, as the thought of a dirty floor crossed her mind.

Fuuko's offer to cook breakfast for them was met with an eager nod, but not because Iroka wanted Fuuko to do all the cooking. "We can do it together, Oni-chan!" she announced eagerly. "I really enjoy cooking, so I'm not going to sit back and watch you do all the work. Besides, I have a lot of inksticks, and I had no idea what to do with them. Turns out I may have figured out a recipe we could use them in."

If Fuuko did not know, Iroka seemed to have rather concerning opinions on what could go in food. By some form of Souk King-sanctioned witchcraft, though, Iroka's food always tasted good, although perhaps with strange but not unpleasant flavors. Most times, people heartily ate the food Iroka cooked, until she mentioned what was in the meal. Then there was a wide variation of responses. The fewest of these were indifferent responses.

Iroka could be vacant at times, but she saw the apparent deflation of her sister, and suspected Fuuko had remembered why she had come to Iroka's room. Her chartreuse eyes widened slowly as Fuuko expressed approval with Iroka becoming the Vice Captain of the Fourth. She swung off the bed and hugged the blonde. "You're too kind, Oni-chan! Thank you so much!" It meant, if Fuuko was allowing Iroka to become Vice Captain, that the whole unpleasantness of them having had to fight could be put behind them. And yet....

Iroka drew back from the embrace, her large soft eyes fixed on Fuuko's face. There was a smile on her face that looked like the sort to be had when all things seemed right with the world. Yet, she asked, "soooooooo, what really brought you to your senses?" in a tone that would suggest to Fuuko that Iroka did not buy the given reason. Fuuko was a very straightforward person, and cared for Iroka. So why did she seem... sad? Something was off about this.

Satoshi Fuuko

[Munemasa Iroka]

Double post, sorry.

[Satoshi Fuuko]

Fuuko raised an eyebrow at Iroka's assessment of having a bigger bed. She raised a fist and extended a finger. "One, in this scenario, the rest of the bed is occipied, by me. I think we can both agree that we have been blessed with bodies that provide a ... certain amount of comfort." Fuuko gave her hefty breast a little smack. "These babies were made for snugglin. Seems like a waste not to put em to use when the opportunity is available." Her middle finger then jutted out. "Two, I think you would be the last  one to complain about havin a workstation you can just pass right out at, so even if we ain't snugglin, it's still practical." Fuuko's ring finger then extended. "Three, cooler, sure, but not as comfy. Plus, I'm sure you could get rid of the germs if ya wanted to but just get a damn fan or somethin." Fuuko rebutted. 

Fuuko had gotten good at not making a face when Iroka mentioned cooking. Secretly, she had hoped to avoid the scenario, hence her offer, even though she loved doing anything with Iroka. She was sure, that at some point, one of Iroka's dishes wasn't going to be tasty. She dreaded that day, and what her reaction would be, almost as much as if Iroka lost control of her IH. "Heh, sounds... fun." She said reluctantly. "But, yeah, let's. Maybe pancakes? I can cook some eggs." 

Fuuko opened herself up and took the incoming hug with with a sturdy embrace and return. She squeezed Iroka back earnestly, but closed their eyes as they were squeezed against one another. When Iroka pulled back, Fuuko matched Iroka's smile with a weak one of her own and then looked away. "I just told you." Fuuko said sternly. "I didn't want the position, you did. If I cared about you at all, I wouldn't do that to you. Besides." Fuuko looked back at Iroka. "I can still do everything I need to do from the third seat position. Considerin Kazu fucked off, it's open now, or was." She added distastefully. She still wasn't  over that. 

"Besides, heh. I'm sure yer real close ta gettin Bankai. I'd rather focus on that. I'm sure whatever it is would be a thousand times more useful than anythin this bitch could some up with." Fuuko mused wearily, nodding to where Shukketsubuki lay, not telling Iroka that she had already achieved Bankai and that she couldn't, actually use it. Fuuko pursed her lips and put a hand on Iroka's cheek. "Could you even imagine what kinda dumb thing might pop outta Shukketsubuki anyway?" 

Fuuko glanced away. "Ain't ya happy er gettin what ya want?" Fuuko said and glanced back at Irola. She tried  to look irritated, but she just couldn't. She shut her eyes again and stood up. "We makin breakfast or  not?" 

 

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

"You shouldn't put it like that! 'Certain amount of comfort' and putting 'em to use' sound... I don't know, naughty," Iroka protested, looking a bit embarrassed. "But you do have a point," the ginger-haired girl admitted pensively, bashfulness turning to contemplation as she considered Fuuko's arguments. "Extra workspace would be, although detrimental to the duration of rest periods, an improvement to effective working hours. I shall look into it."

She leaned over to cast a suspicious look at the floor. "Seems like some deep cleaning needs to be slated into my schedule. I can't remember when last I scrubbed my floor. I think it was the day before yesterday... or was it three days ago?" A look of panic crossed her face momentarily. "Oh dear, I have really gotten lazy. But I need to get a fan, yes. Thought I got one before... but it disappeared... or did it? I remember seeing some of its parts on my workstation, so that suggests...." She locked eyes with Fuuko and realized she had been rambling. "Sorry," the carrot-top said with an embarrassed laugh.

In any case, Fuuko thought the cooking together would be fun. "OH YES!" Iroka nearly screamed with excitement. "But no. I mean yes, then no. Yes, let's cook. No, not pancakes. Pancakes are cool and fun, but when you're around, we don't want to do cool and fun. We want to do sensational and mind-blowing! Let's make a shotgun inkstick cavatappi gumbo!"

Even though Iroka often took things at face value, something hinted to her that Fuuko wasn't telling her everything, even as the blonde reiterated that she simply didn't want the Vice Captain position. Maybe it was the way Fuuko couldn't hold her eye. Iroka knew her sister was too fierce to not be able to look steadfastly at someone else, no matter how intimidating they were. Iroka was sure she was anything but intimidating, so for Fuuko to be unable to hold eye contact, something else was there that wasn't being said.

"Well, I thought Shukketsubuki was cool, maybe except all the copious blood," Iroka said honestly, "so I think her Bankai would be something kick-ass, like her wielder." She placed a hand gently on the hand Fuuko used to caress her cheek. "But I think I'm close to getting Bankai. I've been able to manifest my inner spirit outside, and they say that's the threshold to learning my final release. I'm curious to see what it's like."

Yeah, Fuuko was hiding something. The way she glanced away. The way she didn't go atomic on Iroka when Iroka seemed to be dragging feet about claiming the Vice Captain position. But Iroka was not going to force Fuuko to reveal anything. When her sister felt like sharing, she would. Iroka would simply be there to support her when she needed it, just like she had supported Iroka. She let Fuuko get up, then rose as well and hugged the blonde from behind, although this one was much quicker than the last, although no less tender.

"No matter what, Oni-chan, you can trust me to support you," the carrot-top said. "I'm happy with getting what I want, but what about you? There's something that's worrying you, it's clear, but you don't have to tell me now if you're not comfortable doing so. I'll just wait till you're ready to tell me, and be there to have your back all the way, even if you don't think I need to know."

She grinned at her sister. "Now, who wants some shotgun inkstick cavatappi gumbo?"

Satoshi Fuuko

[Satoshi Fuuko]

Fuuko raised an eyebrow at Iroka's words. a lot  of things Fuuko said sounded naughty. Most of them intentionally so. Iroka usually  just ignored it or let it fly over her head. It was always amusing to Fuuko which things Iroka decided to find distasteful. "Huh? What's so distasteful about havin big, comfy tits?" Fuuko said and pushed her hands into her own, looked down and nodded with approval. "I'm sayin, if ya got  em, why not put em ta use like anything else? Like yer precious work space! Heh!" Fuuko shook her head. "Ya sound like those nerds in Squad Twelve." Fuuko added. "Runnin yerself into exhaustion ain't gonna do anyone any good. I'd rather have ya on duty for a four hours of perfectly functional and well rested work than eight or twelve hours of it where ya start ta get sloppy and tired." Fuuko tapped her head. "people don't think about that." 

"Are ya takin this shit apart in yer sleep?" Fuuko asked, looking around. "You know ya need ta be able to keep some  machines in tact, right?" Fuuko lited a finger. "I really  hope yer curiosity ain't killed any of our squad's medical equipment." She said. "Though, if you want to actually try and improve  upon it, maybe we can figure somethin out. I've been thinkin a lot about our division lately." Fuuko said seriously. She put a finger to her lips. Iroka's mention of what she wanted to cook made Fuuko grimace, but she put on a smile and nodded slowly. 

"That sounds... interestin." She muttered. Thankfully Iroka was quick to follow to a different subject. 

"No, all the blood is the only thing about her that's cool." Fuuuko corrected. Fuuko puffed out her chest at the compliment and nodded, but then she saw the visions shown to her by Shukketsubuki and deflated instantly. "Y-Yeah..." She mumbled. However, it was what Iroka said next that shook Fuuko. 

"What? What do ya mean  by manifest? Like, appear outside of yer inner world?!" Instantly she turned and glanced to where she had left her zanpakutou. "Have you been able to do this this whole fuckin time!?" She barked and took a step to face noting, since Shukketsubuki was laying on the floor on the other side of the bed. 

'Hai!' Chirped the oni. 

"What the actual fuck?! I have to listen to you cry and whine all the time... since before I even seen  yer ass and you've been able to come out!?" Fuuko hissed. 

'I don't whine!' Shukketisubuki whined. 'And, well, yeah, but why would I leave a place that has unlimited booze?' 

"Cause there's creepy shit in there!" The oni did make a good point. 

'It's not like I have to look at it. Besides, it's like Sis says, if people can see me and talk to me, then , you know... they'll think you have Bankai or... that yer close to it.' Shukketcubuki blushed. 'Besides...I'm kinda shy! I... don't like when just anyone looks at me, Anego...'

"Grrrrrhh... How about I go in there and drag you out!?" Fuuko barked. She heard Iroka's encouraging words while yelling at her zanpakutou, though. "Dammit!?" She hissed and stepped to where Iroka had gone. "You know I can't fuckin do that!" Fuuko barked. "Bastard." She hissed. "You know damn well I can't sit here and keep everything that's eatin me up to myself when you've opened yerself up to me so much..." Fuuko clenched her fist. 

She couldn't help herself. Her fist flew and she slammed it into a wall, putting a hole into it. Her head hung and her teeth clenched. She held out her fist and hissed. "Truth of the matter is..." Fuuko breathed. "I have  Bankai." Just saying  it made another growl come out of her mouth. With her arm still stretched out, Fuuko slowly rose her head and tears were dripping down her cheeks. 

"I ... I got  it... I got it sis and I can't even USE." *slam* "The." *slam* "Damn." *slam* "THING!" *slam* Each word was punctuated with another fist. Fuuko's eyes darted towards the hole and she grimaced. She dropped to her knees. "S-sorry..." Fuuko stared at the floor. "I got everythin I wanted ... and just the thought  of it makes me sick. The only thing I have right now... is you... and... and..." She couldn't say the rest. That the only thing Fuuko's bankai could do was take Iroka away from her. 

"Y-You can't say anything." Fuuko said. "You absolutely cannot say a thing, d-do you understand? No one can know I have it. No one else! Not the captain, not Kaen, not sensei. No. One. If anyone finds out, then they will want me to use  it and  I can not do that." Fuuko shook her head. Almost violently. As if just the thought of saying the word terrified her. In fact, there was real fear in Fuuko's eyes if Iroka looked. 

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

At Fuuko's question about what was wrong with having an ample bosom, Iroka shrugged. "I don't know, but I've met people who seemed displeased just because I have them, and others have expressed concern about my lower back, but I feel fine. Maybe there's something I'm not getting. In any case, I've thought about putting them to use, but the best thing I could think of was using them as... obstructions in combat. It would, however, mean that I was providing my torso, which is a critical point on the body, as an easy target."

If Fuuko did not know it, saying Iroka sounded like a Division 12 nerd was high praise. "Really?" the carrot-top asked, beaming happily. "And don't worry, Oni-chan, I never do anything with our equipment unless I'm certain of what I'm doing. I take our business of saving lives seriously, after all. I'd really be glad to discuss ideas about our medical stuff with you. What's the point of all my tinkering if I can't benefit the Yonbantai?"

Fuuko seemed shocked about the whole spirit manifestation thing. Iroka nodded. "To be honest, I thought it was kinda common knowledge," she stated. "But now that I think about it, I really don't remember where I first heard that it was expected for Shinigami close to attaining Bankai." There seemed to be some communication going on, likely between Fuuko and her own spirit. Then Fuuko brought her attention to Iroka once more.

As someone who disliked loud noises, Fuuko's sudden punching of the wall made Iroka visibly jump. But what she said next surprised the carrot-top. It seemed there was a confession about to be made. Marriage? Likely not. Fuuko did not look happy. Was she leaving the Division, then? It wasn't a death. Losses tended to be, in Iroka's opinion, more violently responded to. Fuuko seemed... scared? Even though the blonde was as tough as (if not tougher than) she liked to show, Iroka knew Fuuko enough to be able to tell when something frightened her.

The revelation that Fuuko had Bankai made Iroka's mouth drop open. "You've attained Bankai?! that's--" she was about to say 'good news', when Fuuko looked up, the tears streaming down the blonde's face. The forming smile on Iroka's own face was immediately replaced by a rather worried expression. She said nothing, though, allowing Fuuko to speak and unburden herself. The punching of the wall was of little import now.

Fuuko was definitely frightened. But of what? Iroka had no idea, but she was not going to push things. The ginger-haired girl smiled softly. "Between us and our secrets, I think the burden you've given me so really quite easy to bear," she said, trying to make the situation lighter than it was. That didn't seem to be working. Quietly, Iroka stepped closer to her sister, and held her hand.

"To be serious, though, I won't talk," Iroka said quietly. "No one will know about this, at least not from me, if I have any say about the matter. I really don't understand what's going on; I thought attaining Bankai was a grand achievement, one that most people only fantasize about having. But I don't need to know why this seems so traumatic to you. That it has made you cry is unacceptable. I will guard this secret. I will KILL to guard this secret." The ice in Iroka's eyes would tell Fuuko she meant every word.

Satoshi Fuuko

[Satoshi Fuuko]

Fuuko was grateful for Iroka's solidarity, but the warmth and understanding almost made it more  difficult to bear. Tears continued to streak down her face and she looked clenched her fists harder. Fuuko inhaled and she pursed her lips. Obviously Iroka didn't understand. Fuuko wasn't sure how to explain it, though. She scrubbed away the tears with her arm and briefly looked at Iroka. "Let's just say... the only thing my Bankai can do is take you away from me or take me away from you... That's why I can't ever  release it..." Fuuko muttered through a low, quivering breath. 

Her eyes met Iroka's and Fuuko looked helpless, like Iroka could make it all better. "I cant' even... I can't even practice  with it. If I release it, that's it." Fuuko added, trying to scrub away her tears. "I just... why?" She asked, looking yo Iroka for answers. 

"That part is easy." Came a voice. Fuuko turned and standing behind her was a tall redheaded woman. She had sharp, pointed, curved horns and long, thin pointed ears. Her hair was long and messy with a tuft of a part between her eyes. She was pale faced with red eyes and a line of red under her eyes and across her nose. She had pointed teeth and was spackled with blood and a little bit dripping from the corner of her mouth like drool. She was dressed not unlike the shinigami would be. Dressed as an old tyme samurai, with a red shihakushou instead of black and tattoos all up and down her hands and arms, disappearing into her sleeves. One hand rested on a stubby looking wakazashi. Without having to ask, it would be clear that it was Shukketsubuki. 

"Yooou!" Fuuko launched at the oni girl and grabbed her by the collar. "Ain't ya done enough!?" She hissed.

"Urrk! D-Doesn't Iroka-chan deserve ta know?!" She grunted back. 

"No! I..." Fuuko's hands dropped. "I don't fuckin know..." Fuuko said and dropped, only to have Shukketsubukki catch her and pull her into a hug. 

"Anego's last moments in life were so emotional that she brought it with her into this life. Although she's a good person, there's always gonna be a stain on her heart that's never gonna be able to be washed off. Whether she knows it or not, it made bondin with an asauchi difficult. Or, woulda. I... well I took a chance on bondin with her because..." 


Fuuko pulled away from Shukketsubuki. "Because yer a shit-ass zanpakutou and no one else wanted ya!" Fuuko scowled. 

"Waaaaaahhh! I take it back! Yer a hundred percent mean! Anegoooo!" Shukketsubuki said and started to cry, though her tears dripped a crimson color from her eyes. She  scrubbed at them and sniffed. "Well, harsh as the words are, she's not wrong. Because of my temperament, well... let's just say I was an asauchi for a real long time. People would... subconsciously avoid picking me up. I guess I gave that kind of vibe off, but I knew that I couldn't work with just anyone..." Shukketsubuki's ears wiggled. "B-But I can't help it! I get so excited when there's a fight! I just wanna dance in it forever!" The oni girl sighed contentedly. 

"Heh.. you an me both, bitch." Fuuko said with a smile. 

"A-Anyway, I knew that spot was there, and I thought I could be the one to handle it... I guess... I guess I fucked that up too? I tried my best  to forge it into something, but when the Bankai was being formed... that was all that was left to work with. That pervasive rage. That anger... you may just carry it into the next life and the next. It was the... best the both of us could do..." Shukketsubuki lowered her head. 

"The bond you forged with Anego helped shape this." She added, nodding to Iroka and grinning as she scratched the back of her head. 

"What the shit!? Don't you fuckin blame Sis! She didn't do shit!" Fuuko grabbed Shukketsubuki again and shoved her into a wall. 

"Angh! A-Anego! It's n-not a fault...inside of that tainted spot within you is another spot. A place ta try again. A place that doesn't wanna repeat  what happened before.  A spot of regret but, more importantly, of hope." 

Fuuko shook Shiketsubuki. "What do ya mean!? Tell me!" 

"Aughhughh! Aneeegooooo! That's all I knoooow! I couldn't say without seein it for msyelf!" 

"But ya know what it is!" 

"W-Well, yeah b-but... shouldn't we be more worried about the gumbo!?" 

Fuuko's eyes widened and she stared at Shukketsubuki. She didn't have an answer for such a question. She was completely nonplussed. 

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

Iroka was surprised at Fuuko's statement that her Bankai was only going to take one of them from the other. To the carrot-top, it didn't make that much sense. She had always thought that power was meant to be neutral, only flavored by the hand that wielded it. Surely the Bankai wasn't that bad. Surely, it could be directed against Fuuko's enemies. If this was the case, then it wasn't as dangerous as Fuuko imagined, unless it could only affect either Iroka or Fuuko, which was unlikely.

Fuuko seemed to be pleading for help, and Iroka didn't know how to help her. The ginger-haired girl bit her lip. Being powerless was never a good feeling. But surely, there was a way forward. Even if she wasn't physically dominating, Iroka was sure she could think through the issue with Fuuko. Perhaps there was a way to circumvent the dangers of Fuuko's Bankai. But first, she had to know why it was that simply releasing the final release was a death sentence.

Iroka had just opened her mouth to speak, when another voice intruded. Since Iroka was facing Fuuko, she had seen the form coalesce behind the blonde Shinigami in what seemed to be a mist of blood. Shukketsubuki. The oni looked exactly like what Iroka imagined Fuuko's zanpakutō spirit to look like. The fact that she referred to Fuuko as "Oni-chan" now seemed to make so much more sense. Iroka felt proud of her sense of naming things. It was indeed accurate.

The carrot-top waited quietly as she listened to the back-and-forth between Fuuko and Shukketsubuki. It was interesting to see how the spirit, unlike her owner, was very emotive and cried easily, whereas Fuuko was tough and rarely shed tears. It wasn't too different from the contrast between herself and Shugyoku Hirenaga. The fish was stoic and measured in its behavior, Iroka was much more emotional. But Iroka's main interest was figuring out how Fuuko's Bankai ticked.

The statement of there being hope made Iroka's ears prick up. Thst had been what she had been hoping to hear. Zanpakutō were not set in stone. They were living, just like their masters. They could change, could grow, could die. Surely, something could be done to enlarge the spot of hope. It made Iroka pleased to hear that she was responsible for that place, no matter how little it was, that didn't resonate with the pervasive rage, as Shukketsubuki had called it. Because such rage was borne of pain. If Iroka had been able to carve a place in that rage, then she was not failing in her job as a healer.

In any case, no one was supposed to be worried about the gumbo. "Hmm? The gumbo should be the least of anyone's problems. It isn't going to kill anyone... or at least, maybe not immediately," Iroka answered with an unsettlingly straight face, before breaking into a chortle that was equal part adorable and equal part ominous. "But I digress. Hajimemashite, Shukketsubuki. It's an honor finally meeting you face-to-face for the first time," the carrot-top said with a bow.

"Back to more important matters. I would like to know why Oni-chan's |Bankai is so dangerous. Why can't she release it? Because if she cannot use it, then it's just as if she didn't have it. And why is it specifically dangerous to the two of us? Why can't this power be turned against her enemies? Finally, you spoke of a spot of hope. How do we expand it? There is a place for rage; as a matter of fact, when controlled well, it tends to make its owner stronger. But there needs to be a balance with something more wholesome. I need to know how we can cultivate that wholesome spot in Oni-chan's soul."

Satoshi Fuuko

[Satoshi Fuuko]

Shukketsubuki's elfish ears drooped when Iroka told her not to worry about the gumo. "But I'm hungry..." She muttered under her breath. She was far more concerned with eating than either of the girls' mortality and how Fuuko's Bankai affected it. She lit back up, however, when Iroka gave her a proper greeting. "Yo, sis! Yoroshiku!" She chirped back.



Shukketsubuki sighed when Iroka bombarded her with questions. "Nenrou Funsha Jisatsu Kikai. Fuel Injected Suicide Machine. That is the Bankai that Anego wields." Shukketsubuki was surprisingly sterile with her words. When she glanced at Fuuko, she saw the blonde wince and then she winced in return. She quickly looked back to Iroka.

"It's exactly as it says. When the Bankai is up, it kills Anego. Or, rather, Anego will commit seppuku... whether she wants to or not." Shukketsubuki lifted a finger. "The good news is that when she activates Bankai, she's basically invincible!"

"Oh, fuck you, twat! That's not how ya explained it to me!"

"Waaaah! Anego! Whay are you being so meean!? I'm not going to hurt sis' feelins any more! Don't make me! Even if you call me a thousand names!" Shukketsubuki said and started to cry.

"Rrrrghhh.." Fuuko looked at Iroka. "The more damage I take, the harder it is to deal me more damage." Fuuko explained. 'But I gotta take damage first."

Shukketsubuki lifted her finger. "The good news is Nenrou Funsha Jisatsu Kikai has a countdown and every time it ticks down, it carves a deep wound into Anego's back, so she never has to worry about letting someone hit her to get tougher!"

Fuuko lunged at Shukketsubuki and clapped both her hands around the Oni girl's throat. "Bitch! Say good news one more fuckin time!" Fuuko howled. "See what I fuckin mean!? Who the fuck would want this as a Bankai!? What ya said before? Yeah, I might as well not have it! So... I'm tellin ya, I don't fuckin have one!"

"Ghhhjjgh!!" Shukketsubuki pawed at the air towards Iroka. "S-Sis... h-help mrghhk!

Munemasa Iroka

[Munemasa Iroka]

Iroka was not sure why Shukketsubuki would complain about being hungry, and yet be unwilling to eat something as amazing-sounding as shotgun inkstick cavatappi gumbo. But, different strokes for different folks. Besides, were zanpakutō spirits supposed to feel hungry? Iroka's mind went to her own inner spirit. Although the giant fish seemed to swim in a rather comfortable-looking place, there did not seem to be any food in sight for the fish. Maybe she would ask it if she needed to get some fish food, one of these days.

Nenrou Funsha Jisatsu Kikai. It sounded so cool, and yet so scary. Iroka noticed the looks of pain expressed by both spirit and wielder, and felt a pang of guilt for feeling that the Bankai seemed cool, just by its name alone. Iroka's mouth dropped open, as her right hand rose to cover it in an expression of horror, when she heard of the horrendous result of Fuuko releasing Bankai. Was that even possible? What sort of release killed its owner?

Iroka's expression of horror remained, as Fuuko explained the mechanism of how the Bankai worked. Iroka was not sure she understood the whole system, but she shuddered to think of using such a self-destroying power. Still, even though she worried about her sister's wellbeing, Iroka's highly analytical mind was asking questions. One of them was why both had said the Bankai would kill Fuuko, but so far, they had not explained how that was to happen. Sure, prolonged use of such a thing could be fatal, but if Fuuko didn't use it for long....

Iroka's chain of thought was broken by the blonde savagely wrapping her hands round the oni girl's throat. The carrot top gasped in alarm, and grabbed Fuuko's arm, though she knew she had no physical power to stop the violence from going on. "Oni-chan, wait!" she pleaded. "Don't do this! Let's calm down, please. Throttling Shukketsubuki won't proffer a solution to your situation. Besides, I think there's some hope, because none of you have mentioned any actual way that your Bankai would kill you.

Yes, I know that it sounds rather painful, and I wouldn't want you to ever release it as a result. But assuming you had to, what prevents you from sealing it once you win your fight? And we still haven't explored the matter of a little spot amidst the violence. Perhaps that could be somehow identified and investigated. And finally, if ever you must release your Bankai, then I'll make sure you don't die! My strictly healing and defensive capabilities have to be worth something. Maybe that's why we became sisters. So that we can keep saving each other."

Satoshi Fuuko