Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Seireitei Monogatari ❯ The Big Players ( Chapter 3 )

Title: The Big Players

Pairings: None

Characters: All thirteen division captains, vice-captains, and Ichigo

Rating: T (for cursing and toilet humor)

Words: 1101

Description: There may have been more than one reason Aizen left after all.

 

 

Considering the current state of affairs in Seireitei, it came as no surprise when a meeting was called involving all of the highest powers. Every captain, vice-captain, and Ichigo Kurosaki were ordered to attend the meeting. In Ukitake's case, his two third-seats served as temporary vice-captains, while Kira, Momo, and Shuuhei were provisional leaders of their respective divisions. Yoruichi was missing in action.

 

Yamamoto stood proudly at the front, his vice-captain a silent presence at his side, as he swept his aged gaze over the big players in such a tragic game. So many losses, so few gains, and yes, Yamamoto felt a heavy sigh coming on. However, he refrained from issuing the sound, noting that many were becoming fidgety as they waited for him to say something.

 

He droned on for several minutes, reciting old nonsense about honor, duty, and loyalty. He claimed that they needed to bond together as a unit, that nothing would overcome them if they were strong. That they all were respectable and devoted shinigami, diligent in their work, and it was up to them to make sure the laws of death remained valid.

 

“However,” he blathered, already sensing that many were falling asleep on their feet despite repeated elbow gougings by their vice-captains. “That is not my main purpose for calling you here today.” He banged his staff on the ground, waking them all up. “Considering the two ryoka events recently, it has come to my attention that we have a serious security problem in Seireitei.” His honorable eyes swept over his underlings. “Any suggestions?”

 

For a moment, there was complete silence.

 

Then they heard it… quietly at first but gaining in volume as it announced its presence with the loudness of a trumpet, and it was rapidly accompanied by a very nauseating odor that diffused all too quickly through the first division chambers.

 

Someone had farted.

 

As one, each and every member turned towards Zaraki Kenpachi, certain that the rude and crude captain of the eleventh division was the only one capable of such atrocity.

 

He grunted, “Not me.”

 

On his shoulder, Yachiru giggled. “Yeah!” she chirped. “Cause we ain't dead.”

 

They weren't sure what to think about that.

 

Accusation number one unfounded, every female then turned to Mayuri, certain that the disgusting and foul captain was the only one revolting enough to do so outside of Kenpachi, especially since Ichimaru had turned out to be a traitor and everything. Because that bastard could get away with anything.

 

Mayuri's eyes widened, heart thudding painfully in his chest at the fierce glare that Nanao was sending his way. He frantically shook his head, words caught in his throat as he waved his hands, vaguely resembling a clown bird.

 

Soifon glared at her vice-captain since she knew he had tacos for lunch.

 

Omaeda cringed, expecting to be struck.

 

There was a brief moment of silence. Then, it erupted, every voice striving for dominance above the others.

 

“Shunsui!”

 

“Not me this time, Jyuu-chan.”

 

“What do you mean, this time, taichou?”

 

“Yare, yare. If you didn't notice it before, you aren't going to notice it now, my sweet Nanao-chan.”

 

“Aizen-taichou would have never done anything like that.”

 

“Shut up about `im already! The man's gone fuckin' whacked.”

 

Unohana chose that moment to sniff daintily, unaware that her vice-captain was turning green at her side. “Someone needs to come in for a check-up,” she chirped lightly.

 

Isane cringed.

 

“Matsumoto!”

 

“Ooh, taichou's trying to place the blame on me!”

 

“Well, that bastard Ichimaru's not here anymore. It had to be you.”

 

“Own up to it, you big, dumb ox!”

 

“Whoever smelt it, dealt it, woman!”

 

“Whoever denied it, supplied it, oaf!”

 

“My, my.” Ukitake smiled as he watched his third-seats argue. “It's not that serious.”

 

Shuuhei and Kira exchanged glances, both of them knowing that the offensive bleat had been somewhere close to their area. Both were certain that it hadn't been the other, which led them to one other person, especially since Iba was the perfect picture of bewildered stupidity. They turned to their redheaded friend.

 

“Abarai-kun!” Kira exclaimed, pointing a finger at the stunned vice-captain.

 

Cherry-colored eyes widened. “It wasn't me!” Renji immediately blustered.

 

Shuuhei shook his head. “But it came from over there,” he replied logically. “Therefore, it was you.”

 

“But it wasn't me!” Renji insisted, quickly flushing as his eyes flickered to his captain.

 

“Renji,” Byakuya stated in an authoritative tone, his face completely impassive. To Kira and Shuuhei, it sounded as if Byakuya's noble sensibilities had been offended.

 

Iba leaned around Komamura, who was looking slightly ill as he covered his overly sensitive nose with one massive paw. “If it ain't you, then who was it?” Iba demanded, just as certain as Kira and Shuuhei that it had to have been Renji since it hadn't been him.

 

Renji hung his head. “I can't say.” He looked slightly nervous, eyes darting to Byakuya once more before just as quickly sliding away. He sighed. “I honestly can't say.”

 

Shuuhei was smug as he crossed his arms over his chest.

 

Ichigo had both brows raised as he leaned in towards Ukitake. “Does this happen all the time?” he muttered.

 

The thirteenth division captain grinned and waved somewhat dismissively. “Just enough to keep it interesting.” He winked then before calling out something inane to his third-seats, watching them begin to fight all over again.

 

The orange-haired shinigami rolled his eyes. “I can see why Aizen wanted to leave.” No wonder it had been easy for he and his friends to sneak in if this was what they called a strategy meeting.

 

Suddenly, Yamamoto's staff rapped on the floor, instantly spreading silence throughout the room. He seemed immune to the stench and didn't notice that Sasakibe was looking vaguely queasy.

 

“Honestly!” Yamamoto barked. “You are like children. Can we get back to the matter at hand?”

 

“Yama-jii!” Shunsui exclaimed, waving his straw hat in front of his face. “It was you, wasn't it?” He grunted in the next second when an elbow jabbed him in the side.

 

Nanao was not impressed.

 

Dead silence. A cricket chirped.

 

The aged shinigami sniffed. “Of course not. Now, on to more important matters. How to improve our defenses. I will not abide by another ryoka invasion.”

 

The meeting proceeded as planned, though the odor continued to linger, its perpetrator remaining unknown.

 

* * *

 

He could have held it.

 

He just didn't feel like it.

 

Besides, it was so much more amusing to watch them fight over the blame.

 

And who would ever suspect that it was Kuchiki Byakuya behind it?

 

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