Wayne
The Rustler of Jimmies
3,365
Ripple Effect
Wayne | Raph
Ripple Effect
Wayne | Raph
Rumors tended to spread faster than facts, which, for the most part, was a double-edged sword in terms of usefulness. Kyuketsu wasn’t all too fond of chasing ghosts, but seeing as how he had already seen said ‘ghost’ in the flesh made him act otherwise. Certain individuals seem to be more privy to the inner workings of the Seireitei, along with its history not displayed for the public eye to see. Power, as with everything else, was subjective depending on who was being asked. To some, its definition was the ability to lead and influence others. For him personally, it was a far simpler explanation... and arguably more barbaric. But perhaps, just for this one time, he would shift his focus on an altogether different standpoint. In this case, power might just reflect as information.
Within the ivory citadel known as the Cardinal Spirit Library, Kyuketsu sought out a man whom he saw at the Judges’ conference not too long ago. At first glance, the individual appeared as nothing more but a meager scribe detailing the event... but looks certainly counted for nothing when amidst politics and statesmanship. Hearsay spoke of him as valuable source of intelligence, both of Soul Society’s past and present.
As the captain walked along the athenaeum’s darkened corridors, surrounded by tomes and ledgers dating back for over a millennia, he sensed another presence nearby, timid though most certainly there. With hard, mechanical steps trailing against the steel floors, Kyuketsu caught a glimpse of a man concealed by the shadows.
Breathing in the musty atmosphere of his surroundings, Kiro of Shenrai stepped back from the shelf he was occupied with. A small smile decorated his face, his deft hands tracing the spines with care as he removed certain tomes and replaced others.
Orange-hued eyes roamed over the titles with abandon, seeking each target with a certain gleam of curiosity. Then, the soft clank of feet against the metallic catwalks reached his ears. Turning to the source, he stepped away from the more poorly-lit aisles.
Books spanned the entirety of the spherical library, the seamless wall lined with an eternity's worth of records and chronicles. Aisles and shelves partitioned the metal catwalks, creating a maze of knowledge for those who took company amongst them.
Below, he could see the stained-glass breaks in the walls - no longer covered as they had been not a fortnight ago. The meeting between the leaders and representatives of Soul Society still rung clearly in his mind, eagerly dissected and examined with ceaseless enthusiasm.
Turning to the newcomer, his eyes widened slightly at the appearance of none other than a captain!
Reijuu Kyuketsu, the inheritor of the Fearless Duelists. The man was predatory in stature. Shoulders hunched and set as though in a swordsman's stance, even as his weapon hung stiffly at his side. Gold-flecked yellow orbs peered out, the captain's eyes roaming over the contents of the library, before meeting the fiery eyes of the spy himself.
Forcing his smile not to fade, Kiro offered a nod of his head in respect for the man. "Ah, Reijuu-taichou. Might I be of assistance?"
Nodding back, a certain level of ambivalence quickly overtook Kyuketsu. The man’s rather compulsory enthusiasm was decisively palpable, bearing only a slight tinge of honesty behind an otherwise amicable smile. But first impressions aside, the way the captain found the scribe seemed enough to justify his supposed mindfulness when it came to details. Being surrounded by books, elated by their mere presence—this might really be the person he was looking for, all things considered.
“Kiro of Shenrai, correct?” he asked, his tone carrying a mixed batch of bold composure. “Your reputation certainly precedes you. After that menagerie of an assembly, you seem completely unfazed. I’d even go so far as to say invigorated.”
The spy blinked, quickly turning his eyes about as though to confirm nobody else were around. Then, satisfied, he once more turned back to the captain. "I was hardly aware I had any reputation to be given precedent, though I suppose you're correct.
"Perhaps it's the idea that there is once more opportunity within my division... or the idea that I'll have something new to keep me busy with the meetings to come. Still, I should hardly think any misbegotten reputation I have should be of any note to you." He chuckled slightly, stepping closer to the captain as he acquainted himself with the man's posture.
As though sure that the Duelist wouldn't suddenly attack him, the spy allowed himself to relax slightly, his smile a little less forced. "The one to bring the Duelists back to their rightful place within the Gotei, or so your subordinates like to say. To say nothing of your fateful battles with the Vasto Lorde, or in pursuit of that Raifuku madman.
"So, what may I do for you today, Reijuu-taichou?"
Though he showed little to nothing in terms outward reactions, he was rather irked at the mentioning of both Raifuku and Prometheus. His scars, outer and internal in nature, still throbbed painfully even after the storm had passed. Kyuketsu’s plans, his motives and expedients, were driven more so by his encounter with the latter of the two ‘villains.’ The Dread Lord had left a mark on him that would never cease to fade, a lingering plague not commanded by reiatsu or any of the sort. Whether he would break through it or be consumed by it, was still yet to be seen.
“I have a feeling you already know.” He stepped to the side, leaning himself against a low-lying bookshelf. “Information, data... knowledge. Whether I would pay handsomely in kan is entirely up to you. I merely ask for ‘enlightenment’ in regards to certain topics concealed behind the Seireitei’s red tape.”
Pointing with his thumb to the back of the corridor, into the direction of their meeting, he scoffed. “Concerning Ascania, of all people... those like him, and those that came before him. And I can’t seem to shrug off two more names that piqué my interest. Curiosity, you see, is something of a curse to me... especially when it comes to certain individuals. In this case, Kuragari Seisatsu and Anton Zhukov, the notorious Imperators of the Masked Legion.”
Kiro's features smoothed, and he raised a single eyebrow. So many came to him, all curious about their hybrid counterparts. Somehow, having a captain approach him was all the more unsettling. Daredevils and hotheads all looking for a quick grab at power, but a captain held a different mindset... or so he hoped.
What accord did the Duelist Captain have with the Imperators? Expression even, the spy replied. "Such information is second-class security... but could easily be obtained with the permissions of an officer of the Second. You'll find little tangible information on them here. Historic records, tales of their prowess and so forth.
"Why? What brings them to your curiosity?"
“History, as you might already know, tends to repeat itself.” Kyuketsu rubbed the back of his neck, glancing passively at the records mentioned by the informant. “I know the bare basics about these masked abominations of ours... how they struggle against their inner devils, attempt to contain their sanity, all that. As for their figureheads, I know even less. I’m aware that Kuragari was once a captain, like myself, who turned his back on the Gotei. As for Zhukov... he was... the former’s protégé? I think.”
The spy’s reaction was to be expected. Surely, all one needed to know about the vizards was that they had to be handled with caution. Anything beyond that might seem all too suspicious given the ‘temptations’ carried behind the notion of Hollowfication. Kiro’s plight, for the most part, was understandable.
“In the off chance that someone out there decides to take up the throne, so to speak, I want to know the signs... the symptoms. And I am not bothered by the slightest in admitting that the former Kenpachi might be a likely candidate. I want to understand the mindset of an Imperator... what drives them, what motivates them. I want to know everything.”
For an instant, the corner of Kiro's mouth quirked downwards in faint disapproval. Taking a deep breath and trying not to make it sound too much like a sigh, the spy continued. "To understand the mind of an afflicted being, you must first understand the disease."
Motioning for the Captain to follow him, the rust-haired scribe began a slow trek along the catwalks. Speaking as he paced, he relegated a tale he'd invoked time and again. "Hollowfication is a disease of the soul. When the soul is compromised, the body and mind follow.
"Imagine taking the hilt from a sword. You can still grip it, it's as sharp as ever... but you grip the very edge you swing with." He explained, making vague motions with his hands to express the comparison. "Hollowfication is the slow process of taking the hilt from the blade. It breaks down the soul, and infects it."
Turning his fiery-orange gaze back to Kyuketsu briefly, he finished. "The result is a hollow-like presence constantly battering at the consciousness of a shinigami, infecting their soul with hollow traits... a Vizard."
He laughed halfway seeing Kiro immediately dodged the focal point of his question. The analogy was an interesting take on the infection, and made rather ample sense. Regardless, Kyuketsu already knew about such corrosion victimizing the soul. With the taint of emptiness drilling into one’s being, putrefaction as an adjective became a far more literal idea than figurative.
“And so the age-old question resurfaces. Two polar opposites... entities that lie on separate ends of the spectrum. Like oil and water, they reject each another... but should the proper elements be introduced, they merge and become one,” he said in a low, contemplating tone. “I believe most cases are ‘natural,’ if that’s even a viable explanation. There’s no ‘artificial’ way to create a half-breed, be it vizard or arrancar.”
Slowly, the captain slithered a hand atop his sword’s handle, twisting a finger around its decorative gray tassel. “Tell me: if I’m to kill myself a hybrid, there’s no possible way of only purifying the Hollow side, is there?”
Face still unreadable, he looked over his shoulder. "Purify? No, no. A Vizard's hollow is rather different from your standard run-of-the-mill. It's a mental presence, not a physical one. The soul itself still belongs to the Vizard. Hollow and shinigami are indistinguishable.
"You kill the Vizard, you kill the hollow with it. Why?" He postured.
“Why? Simple, really.”
A restrained sneer trailed across the captain’s features, carrying with it an eerie sense of foreboding and dread. Placing a hand over half of his face, he turned to lock sights with the spy.
“I seek to completely dismantle the very existence of hybrids.” His tone was stern and steady, cold and robotic. “Vizards, arrancars... intermediaries like those are simply too volatile to the security of Soul Society and World of the Living. The natural order needs to be kept in place—shinigami, hollows, and humans. Anything beyond those are too difficult to control, and too costly to manage.”
Kyuketsu shook his head. “It’s a near-impossible task, but it’s something that needs to be done nevertheless. Genocide on arrancars is not a problem to me or to you. It’s the other side that constantly proves problematic.”
Stopping as the captain ran through his soliloquy, Kiro's gaze became laced with a measure of caution. He studies Kyuketsu's features for a moment. Then, "If you were so invested in their extinction, why ask about their leaders, and speak of the Kenpachi?"
Quirking an eyebrow, he continued. "Unless you seek to start at the top, and work your way down?"
“You want to make a quick kill, you always go for the head,” he replied automatically.
Slowly, as their conversation progressed, it seemed all the more obvious that Shenrai intended on keeping his mouth shut. Not all too farfetched given his line of work, yet vexing all the same. There were only a certain other few who had the same authorization to the information that he possessed, but tracking them down was too much a chore to yield any worthwhile profit.
“Look at what remains of them now. There is no ‘army,’ no caste, and no echelon. Just a scattered group of wayward abominations with no central leadership. By themselves, they’re easy to pick off... careless and clumsy. But should someone decide to flex their muscle and gather them into his or her bosom, everything changes. I’d prefer if things were to never escalate to such a degree.”
This was going nowhere, and as patient as he was, his ire of that place was slowly building.
“Certainly, you must understand my quandary. I’m entirely naïve on the matter, as I’m permitted little time for my own research. Your skeptical nature as a spy is admirable, if not a bit trifling. I appreciate your input thus far, but with the answers I’ve heard... they seem quite paltry.” His voice dropped steadily like the fading hum of a guitar. “I’m beginning to question if your clearance on these information was rightfully placed. It’d be a shame if they were to be... revoked.”
Now Kiro's other eyebrow raised, a mildly off-put expression adopting his face. "Revoked, you say?
"Perhaps, then, a certain amount of truth must be inlaid with such omission." He elaborated, a frown slipping onto his face. "Information regarding vizards, and arrancar, is restricted for a reason taichou. Though I mean you no disrespect, you've contradicted your own statements."
The spy raised a single finger. "One, you've spoken of a reputation I most certainly fail to have. Classic brown-nosing."
He raised another. "Two, you asked me about the mindset of the Imperators, their history. That has nothing to do with better combating them."
A cautious, but earnestly curious tint was held to his gaze. "What are you really here for, Taichou? If you want my help, I'll need to know what you're actually here for."
Kyuketsu cracked half a smirk, genuinely amused by his perceived impression of the scribe.
“Warriors on the front lines may be different from those who operate in secrecy, though some of their methods align every now and again.” With a partly-opened hand, he pointed to Kiro. “You try to understand an enemy both inside and out. Their battle styles and physical capacity on the outside... and of course, as for the inside, their mindset, their history. What makes them tick? What is their mentality when engaged in conflict and when calm? It’s merely precautions... thinking two steps ahead of your quarry.”
Using the same hand, he took an index finger and tapped the side of his head. “We use intelligence to our advantage... even play dirty, as the Onmitsukidou enjoy so much. This is right around your alley as a ‘spy,’ correct?”
Lowering his hand, Kiro regarded the captain with a mixture of open confusion and wariness. Kyuketsu's mannerisms were very off, but every so often the man's posture would straighten. His shoulders would loosen in a lazy slump, before locking back up.
It was strange, and the spy couldn't shake the feeling he was missing something... but did not press it. Choosing his words carefully, he replied. "If you'd like... I can prepare Zhukov's official records for you. I'll have one of the librarians fetch the archives dating their times as Imperator. Kuragari's records, however, are classified information. If you want his records, you'll need permission from the Taichou o Daiyou."
Features neutral, but brow furrowed, Kiro laced his hands in the sleeves of his kosode as he squared against the man.
“Fair enough.” He nodded. “As for the other matter, if it’s permission you seek, then I’ll gladly obtain it for you.”
There was no outward satisfaction defining the captain’s visage. In actuality, even the slightest hint of emotion was blocked somewhat, most likely in response (or retaliation) to the detached countenance worn by the scribe. He had a feeling he wouldn’t get all that he sought for that day, but something was still better than nothing. Anton Zhukov, from what he understood, was a dangerous man in his own accord, though leagues beneath that of Seisatsu Kuragari’s status of infamy.
Breaking away from Shenrai, Kyuketsu slowly paced himself into one of the more dim-lit corners of the catwalk, its dusky veil nearly concealing him completely.
“On a completely separate note, seeing as how you must be vexed with all this talk of hybrids... what can you tell me about the Quincy? Theirs is a far more dangerous lot... should the circumstances prove to their favor. In regards to them, I’m afraid, is out of complete curiosity on my part. So it’s nowhere close to being official.”
Kiro's features failed to change, his tone remaining even. "I could ramble on and on about the Quincy, Taichou. I'm afraid you'll need to be more specific."
Absentmindedly, he stroked a finger over one of the older shelves placed beside him. A small cloud of dust billowed from the console, settling just as quickly as they were disturbed.
“I’ve been hearing about heightened activity in recent weeks. No noticeable Hollow killings, but traffic nonetheless. On the surface, there appears to be no central leadership... no specific clan driving the pack.” He paused. “But from your ‘professional’ opinion, do you believe there might be one out there as of now who could challenge a captain?”
The man lapsed into a short silence, his mind turning in its ancient gears. Vast volumes of knowledge dredged up at the most unusual of times, and he only came up with a single name.
"There was," he started, "a single Quincy. One who fought the Soutaichou himself and came out even. Eve, her name was. A former leader of the Quincy Resistance Front. She later joined another faction, one that went by the name of Erdeschalk."
Kiro frowned slightly. "Her records are, similar to Kuragari's, confidential. I'm afraid you'll need permission from the Taichou o Daiyou. Her last sighting was in Tokyo, I believe."
“Yes, I remember her.” Kyuketsu recalled with un-fond memories at the incident in Tokyo some odd years prior. “But as of right now, she is of no immediate threat to anyone. As I said, my interest in them is purely inquisitive. There’s no need to bother Ashanti-taichou for such a thing.”
Perhaps he should give it some time, and maybe a more out-of-the-office discussion before thoroughly trying to ascertain any worthwhile answers. Shenrai seemed to have proven his worth as a spy, divulging as little information as he could all while steering the conversation to his favor. Kyuketsu only achieved a portion of what he was looking for, but surely he could still do with what he had. Gaining this man’s trust was an undoubtedly cumbersome task, but should the captain pull it off, the data Shenrai could provide would be a quite useful asset. For now, however, it appears the well had run dry for the day.
“I believe that’s all I came for today. You’ve been...” He made a deliberate pause between those words. “...helpful. And for that I thank you.”
He turned around as he began to clip away from the spy. Without looking back, he gave a parting statement before eventually turning at a corner, “By all means, don’t rush yourself with those records. I’d rather have them be as detailed as possible.”
"Of course," The spy found himself mumbling, "it would be terrible if anything... important, were omitted."
Some measure of dread welled in his stomach as he turned back to his tasks in the library. Too many captains had been approaching him as of late, to absolutely no idea as to what provoked them. Was his mere presence at the meeting enough to bring him to their interest? Perhaps they could sense his higher-than-average reiryoku?
Neither answer boded well for his peace of mind. Good mood thoroughly ruined, Kiro's mind turned to the encounter. Playing it again and again in his mind, he couldn't help but feel he had missed something. Something he wouldn't realize until it was too late.