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It was brief. There was no forthcoming rebuttal or witty remark, something that surely caused a few eyebrows to arch in curiosity as the prisoner was led away from the Chambers of the Forty-Six.
The fleeting images of scorn and ridicule passed him by as he was escorted towards the Seventh division’s compound. Many acquaintances and friends saw him being led to the prison; however their faces lit up with surprise. There was not any ounce of frustration or anguish showing in the shinigami’s expression.
“Looks like we’ve got us another one, boys!” a very prideful and arrogant man exclaimed gleefully as he shoved the prisoner forward once they had finally reached the gates.
Of course, the guard knew the convicted felon’s circumstances enough, and as such, the man was doing everything in his ability to vex the soul reaper to no end.
“What’s he even in for? Isn’t he the same guy that was falsely convicted for killing fellow shinigami before?” the guard’s taller companion asked.
“That’s him alright; he just can’t keep away from trouble it seems. Except this time he’s actually in here for releasing his Bankai release within Soul Society.”
“...Oh,” the taller man said, sounding disappointed. He had originally expected more amusing reasons for the sentence that was given, but to his dismay, this wasn’t really the sort of crime that would have made him tick. “ Let’s just hope he doesn’t piss off anyone. Last thing we need here is more complications, especially after the incident with Kyoshiro betraying us.”
Kyoshiro, the prisoner thought, dreadful memories flooding into the forefront of his mind as everything else was drowned out. This time there was no way to clear his name. This time he had to serve his sentence; however long it was (he honestly could not even remember). After all, that was the last of his concerns.
With shackles binding him in place as he was led into a separate sector of the Seventh’s holds, Ryoujin’s auburn eyes seemed to scan his surroundings. He recognised a few faces from the last time he was here when he was impersonated for committing murder, and then of course, it seemed like the number of inmates had increased tenfold since the last time he had been here.
They had stripped him of every possession including both his zanpakutou and the amulet that unlocked the Tsukanoma No Kishi armor. In fact, they had made sure to relocate him to a more confined part of the Seventh’s holds, where the bloodstone walls subjugated him to doom. Although he was beginning to become accustomed to the overbearing pressure of bloodstone, he was still nowhere near comfortable enough as to be able to react like he normally would, not that he really needed to. The less trouble he made, the sooner he would be out.
Like the human world, the prison system was organized by the severity of one’s crimes. Releasing one’s Bankai wasn’t as large scale as murder, but it was still considered somewhat grave especially considering that nowadays cases like this when a shingami breached peace-time regulations were few and far in between. Those who did either had no other resort but to release their zanpakutou, or they were merely stupid. In his case, it was the latter.
As the trio finally came to a halt at an empty cell, Ryoujin watched as the more annoying of the two prison guards unlocked the door. As he was led inside before the two guards locked the cell, the Blood Templar finally leaned back against a wall.
For the next few weeks, this was all he would be doing unless of course he attracted some sort of trouble around these shady parts, but that was the last thing he needed. Any sort of misdemeanor on his part from here on out would reflect on his sentence. Hopefully, at least, he would be able to venture into one of those “suicidal” missions that the Seventh was renowned for assigning to criminals. Otherwise, it would just be staring endlessly at nothing in particular with a very blank expression on his face, and of course, enduring the loud snoring of his fellow inmates throughout the entire night.
“How cruel,” he muttered sarcastically, as he allowed himself to fall into a slumber. Before long though, he heard vermin scurrying about, and small drops of water leaking from a broken pipe above. Not too long after, the door to his cell seemed to slam open as a very familiar figure was practically dragged in.
I haven’t even done anything. What if they try and send me to the ovens!? the silver-haired man thought dramatically, resisting against the guards. However, the bloodstone walls had drained his physical strength intensely, and within the next moment, the shinigami was thrown into the pink-haired youth’s cell.
“Looks like you have someone to keep you company. You can thank me later.”
As the haughty laughter receded, Ryoujin finally looked up to lock gazes with the newcomer only to jump back after realizing that the man was staring him down intensely.
Trying his best not to slug the overly-curious man, Ryoujin stared at the newcomer awkwardly. For some reason, the youth seemed familiar. The scar across the bridge of the boy’s nose, and the trimmed hair almost made him indistinguishable, but in the end, six years in the Academy could never cause him to forget.
“Toshi... what the fuck are you doing here? How long have you been here?” Ryoujin asked, his best friend from the Academy.
“Ehh, a couple of months, dude,” the passionate man said casually, although there was certainly a tone of betrayal behind it. “Figured you would have noticed, but guess not.”
“...Let’s just say what little luck I’ve had has gone downhill and I haven’t had my fair share of leisure as I used to since being promoted and after the whole Prometheus-collar deal,” Ryoujin said, scratching at an itch that wasn’t there. Perhaps it was true that he was not exactly a good friend, but luckily enough, Yoshiyuku Toshi was pretty understanding.. at least when he wasn’t berserk.
“Well that sucks,” Toshi said, before laughing.
Staring at the man quizzically, Ryoujin waited for the silver-haired assassin to explain just what was so humorous.
“Remember that day right before we graduated: when I asked you what division you were going to. And then after, I made a bet with you to see if one of us would wind up in the shitter. Well, looks like you win, dude.”
Ryoujin rolled his eyes. “We never actually made a wager for that. And besides, I’m here too, so looks like neither of us win.”
Toshi smirked, and without warning, launched forward, bear-hugging the Blood Templar. Gasping for breath, Ryoujin managed to push the assassin back.
“It’s nice to see you too. I see you haven’t changed,” the third-seater said, his auburn eyes sharpening at noticing the slight within Toshi’s countenance. Something was wrong.
“How’d you get here? And why haven’t you been released?” he finally asked, the question seeming to pierce right through Toshi’s veil.
“Hah! Looks I also can’t hide things. Guess we can save this reunion for later.”
As a heavy silence seemed to settle in, Tosi finally sank back, hands behind his head. "Something big’s been going on, and apparently, it’s dragged the both of us into it. It all started when...”
The fleeting images of scorn and ridicule passed him by as he was escorted towards the Seventh division’s compound. Many acquaintances and friends saw him being led to the prison; however their faces lit up with surprise. There was not any ounce of frustration or anguish showing in the shinigami’s expression.
“Looks like we’ve got us another one, boys!” a very prideful and arrogant man exclaimed gleefully as he shoved the prisoner forward once they had finally reached the gates.
Of course, the guard knew the convicted felon’s circumstances enough, and as such, the man was doing everything in his ability to vex the soul reaper to no end.
“What’s he even in for? Isn’t he the same guy that was falsely convicted for killing fellow shinigami before?” the guard’s taller companion asked.
“That’s him alright; he just can’t keep away from trouble it seems. Except this time he’s actually in here for releasing his Bankai release within Soul Society.”
“...Oh,” the taller man said, sounding disappointed. He had originally expected more amusing reasons for the sentence that was given, but to his dismay, this wasn’t really the sort of crime that would have made him tick. “ Let’s just hope he doesn’t piss off anyone. Last thing we need here is more complications, especially after the incident with Kyoshiro betraying us.”
Kyoshiro, the prisoner thought, dreadful memories flooding into the forefront of his mind as everything else was drowned out. This time there was no way to clear his name. This time he had to serve his sentence; however long it was (he honestly could not even remember). After all, that was the last of his concerns.
With shackles binding him in place as he was led into a separate sector of the Seventh’s holds, Ryoujin’s auburn eyes seemed to scan his surroundings. He recognised a few faces from the last time he was here when he was impersonated for committing murder, and then of course, it seemed like the number of inmates had increased tenfold since the last time he had been here.
They had stripped him of every possession including both his zanpakutou and the amulet that unlocked the Tsukanoma No Kishi armor. In fact, they had made sure to relocate him to a more confined part of the Seventh’s holds, where the bloodstone walls subjugated him to doom. Although he was beginning to become accustomed to the overbearing pressure of bloodstone, he was still nowhere near comfortable enough as to be able to react like he normally would, not that he really needed to. The less trouble he made, the sooner he would be out.
Like the human world, the prison system was organized by the severity of one’s crimes. Releasing one’s Bankai wasn’t as large scale as murder, but it was still considered somewhat grave especially considering that nowadays cases like this when a shingami breached peace-time regulations were few and far in between. Those who did either had no other resort but to release their zanpakutou, or they were merely stupid. In his case, it was the latter.
As the trio finally came to a halt at an empty cell, Ryoujin watched as the more annoying of the two prison guards unlocked the door. As he was led inside before the two guards locked the cell, the Blood Templar finally leaned back against a wall.
For the next few weeks, this was all he would be doing unless of course he attracted some sort of trouble around these shady parts, but that was the last thing he needed. Any sort of misdemeanor on his part from here on out would reflect on his sentence. Hopefully, at least, he would be able to venture into one of those “suicidal” missions that the Seventh was renowned for assigning to criminals. Otherwise, it would just be staring endlessly at nothing in particular with a very blank expression on his face, and of course, enduring the loud snoring of his fellow inmates throughout the entire night.
“How cruel,” he muttered sarcastically, as he allowed himself to fall into a slumber. Before long though, he heard vermin scurrying about, and small drops of water leaking from a broken pipe above. Not too long after, the door to his cell seemed to slam open as a very familiar figure was practically dragged in.
I haven’t even done anything. What if they try and send me to the ovens!? the silver-haired man thought dramatically, resisting against the guards. However, the bloodstone walls had drained his physical strength intensely, and within the next moment, the shinigami was thrown into the pink-haired youth’s cell.
“Looks like you have someone to keep you company. You can thank me later.”
As the haughty laughter receded, Ryoujin finally looked up to lock gazes with the newcomer only to jump back after realizing that the man was staring him down intensely.
Trying his best not to slug the overly-curious man, Ryoujin stared at the newcomer awkwardly. For some reason, the youth seemed familiar. The scar across the bridge of the boy’s nose, and the trimmed hair almost made him indistinguishable, but in the end, six years in the Academy could never cause him to forget.
“Toshi... what the fuck are you doing here? How long have you been here?” Ryoujin asked, his best friend from the Academy.
“Ehh, a couple of months, dude,” the passionate man said casually, although there was certainly a tone of betrayal behind it. “Figured you would have noticed, but guess not.”
“...Let’s just say what little luck I’ve had has gone downhill and I haven’t had my fair share of leisure as I used to since being promoted and after the whole Prometheus-collar deal,” Ryoujin said, scratching at an itch that wasn’t there. Perhaps it was true that he was not exactly a good friend, but luckily enough, Yoshiyuku Toshi was pretty understanding.. at least when he wasn’t berserk.
“Well that sucks,” Toshi said, before laughing.
Staring at the man quizzically, Ryoujin waited for the silver-haired assassin to explain just what was so humorous.
“Remember that day right before we graduated: when I asked you what division you were going to. And then after, I made a bet with you to see if one of us would wind up in the shitter. Well, looks like you win, dude.”
Ryoujin rolled his eyes. “We never actually made a wager for that. And besides, I’m here too, so looks like neither of us win.”
Toshi smirked, and without warning, launched forward, bear-hugging the Blood Templar. Gasping for breath, Ryoujin managed to push the assassin back.
“It’s nice to see you too. I see you haven’t changed,” the third-seater said, his auburn eyes sharpening at noticing the slight within Toshi’s countenance. Something was wrong.
“How’d you get here? And why haven’t you been released?” he finally asked, the question seeming to pierce right through Toshi’s veil.
“Hah! Looks I also can’t hide things. Guess we can save this reunion for later.”
As a heavy silence seemed to settle in, Tosi finally sank back, hands behind his head. "Something big’s been going on, and apparently, it’s dragged the both of us into it. It all started when...”
To be continued...
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