Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Zanpaku-to? ❯ Floral Attributes ( Chapter 42 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Tite Kubo owns Bleach.  I just borrowed the characters.  I do own Atonomatsuri (the bird) and Piecrust (the jerk).

Before Yachiru could say anything Ayasewaga took over the tea making and poured the beverage, handing out the cups in a manner that seemed both obsequious and self congratulatory.  After having insulted the man so recently, Zaraki wondered what had happened.  The man had no reason to change like that, unless something he’d seen pleased him.  He’d probably caught sight of his reflection; that always seemed to cheer him up.  

Yachiru looked at Ayasewaga’s back for a moment and then her expression cleared as her eyes travelled around the office and she twirled around a few times.  She nodded as if confirming something with herself glanced expectantly at her Captain.  He frowned back, wondering what she was trying to tell him this time.  Why couldn’t people say what they meant without hinting, and indicating?  What was the problem with saying what was meant or meaning what was said?  Even if it wasn’t fashionable, it meant a hell of a lot less time wasting.  Yachiru widened her eyes and spread her hands as if indicating the room.  With little hope of gaining an understanding of what she meant he stared at the wall and then the window.  The curtain seemed different.  Why was that?  

There was a screen in one corner of the room that he didn’t remember.  Slowly it dawned on him.  The office was painted and fully functional, no bugs remained and all memories of the previous captain were now removed.  The paint scheme, he supposed that was what it was, didn’t strike him as being overly feminine, but the place felt better.  The chair he was sitting on was firm and supportive but comfortable and the scent of well cured leather tickled his nostrils.  Maybe he should say something.

“Good job, Ayasewaga,” was enough he thought.

“I’m pleased you’re enjoying the tea,” was the pert response.

“I meant the room.”  Hell, the man was enjoying this and forcing him to say it.  Why?  And why did he feel obligated to even notice aside from Yachiru’s expectations?

“Because it’s polite, Kenny.  Politeness become princes,” his zanpaku-to’s spirit gleefully informed him.

“Become princes’ what?” he replied, half aware of what he was saying.  Maybe the adage was complete, but it didn’t make much sense to him.  But then, most of what the bird said made no sense.

“Oh, thank you, Captain.  I tried.  I left orders that it be finished while we were in that meeting today and I came here to make certain that everything was up to my standards.”  Walking to the screen, Ayasewaga moved one panel slightly and then wiped the area his fingers had touched with a fine cloth.  “That lacquer is particularly fine and glossy.  It is a superior example of the period and should appreciate in value.  It was worth the money spent,” he said in a satisfied tone.

Zaraki looked at the screen.  It was nice, he supposed, but it looked expensive.  So did his new chair.  How much money had been spent on beautifying the office?  In the midst of anger at the possible cost, the remembered trade off stuck him.  If the office was pleasant his Fifth seat had agreed to do most of the paperwork, subject to bribery.  Suddenly the cost wasn’t too great; anything to be free of the damned paperwork.  Feeling a rush of relief he stretched, hearing the chair creak, but give gently under him, unlike the previous one, which had been showing many signs of wear.

“Hey, Ken-chan.  When you’re finished with the Clown Captain and this trial thingy, can we have a party?  An office warming?  Show everybody how nice it looks,” was the excited comment elicited from Yachiru.  “And Pretty Boy can start on making my room look pretty.”

“Who would I…” he almost said invite and then it struck him that while there were a number of people he could invite now; he didn’t want to have a party.  Unless the party meant lots of drinking and fighting.

“I’ll organise everything,” Yachiru said.

“No, you won’t.  I’ll organise it,” Ayasewaga snapped in quickly.  “Otherwise the only food will be sweets, chocolate and those disgusting sweet drinks you insist you like so much.”

“People like lollies, except for Ken-chan.  And those drinks are not disgusting.  They’re sweet and taste of fruit.  They don’t rot your brain,” was the passionate reply.

“Only your teeth.  They’re sweet and sticky and make a mess when you spill them, or destroy the polish and eat through the wood like acid” Ayasewaga wasn’t going to allow Yachiru to change the subject.  “Adults,” and he emphasised the word heavily, “and sophisticated people expect to be offered a variety of drinks, including alcohol and snacks.”  He sat down as if underlining his point and made certain that he sat beautifully.

“What’s a party without sake?” Zaraki said without thinking and then almost gagged.  

Yachiru began to giggle, immediately joined by Ayasewaga who picked up a pen and began to write.  “Can I use that in the invitation, Captain?”

“No.”  Rhymes, even accidental, had no place in his life.  “Why are we talking about this?  We’ve got tomorrow and the next day to get through and I might be dead by the time any celebration could be organised.”  Without meaning to, his voice had deepened.  It didn’t matter that he’d be dead, not really, but it seemed a pain in the rear that he didn’t get to meet and fight his successor to see if he was fit to lead Eleventh Division.

“Or she,” the words were in his mind and he wondered why he’d felt the need to even consider a female as the next captain.

“Unlikely,” he grunted at Atonomatsuri, as he worked out who was forcing him to consider a female.  “I don’t think my men would accept a female as leader.”

“And your Assistant Captain is what exactly?  A transvestite child?  She is the logical choice to be the next Captain,” were the hard facts presented to him.  “That is why she is the Assistant Captain.”

The bird was right.  He’d never really thought of Yachiru as the next captain, well not with any purpose.  “I guess, I imagined…… Madarame might take over.”

“Because he has bankai and Yachiru doesn’t?” Atonomatsuri was not letting this go.  At least that wasn’t out of character.  “Or because he’s an adult male and Yachiru is female in the semblance of a child?  Or you expect to be able to protect her once you’re dead?  Do you plan to live forever?”

Gulping his tea, he ignored the questions.  They raised difficulties that he didn’t want to face.  “Tell me about the rules or at least let me know about this contest,” he instructed his second in command.

She stopped giggling and became solemn and sat on the edge of a chair that he was sure had been chosen with her in mind.  It was, regretfully pink in parts, black and white where it wasn’t pink well padded and smaller than the other chairs in the room. “I know you read about it once Ken-chan, but I think you might have dozed off and missed bits.”

Shrugging he nodded, grudgingly.  “Yeah.  I might have.  It’s not exactly easy to read.”

“Weren’t there any pictures, Kenny Boy?  Or were the words too long?” the bird asked with false sympathy.

“Well, there can be up to 13 challenges,” Yachiru said.

He was pleased she spoke so he didn’t have to answer Atonomatsuri.  The revelation was enough to make him sit and think about it.  13 possible challenges.  That was not good news and from the expression of his friend’s face he knew that it might just become worse.

“Because you and the Clown are Captains they’ve removed two of them because each challenge comes from each Division.  As you’re Captains, the rules automatically determine that you would win that challenge and so they’re not included.”

That made sense, in a Seireitei sort of way.  “Eleven challenges, hey?” he said, a smile lighting his face.  “My lucky number.”

He couldn’t be mistaken.  The girl looked at the paper she was holding and squirmed in her seat as if it was not as cosy as it looked.  She glanced from the paper and saw he was watching her.  “You see Ken-chan; you know each Division has a flower and a meaning?”

He found his head was nodding in agreement, without thinking about it.  “Our motto is Fight and the flower is the Yarrow.  Good thing it wasn’t anything sissy like a Chrysanthemum or an Orchid,” he commented.

“But, Captain, the Chrysanthemum is the emblem of First Division,” the worry in Ayasewaga’s voice couldn’t be mistaken.

He thought about it for a moment.  No matter which way he looked at it, he still hated the flower but didn’t know what he could say.  He hadn’t become a captain because of his diplomatic abilities.  “So?  Does that mean I have to suddenly develop a passion for the damned things?  They’re ugly.”

“No, but maybe don’t mention it again,” was the suggestion from the self-possessed subordinate.

Zaraki waved his hand.  “Yeah, yeah.  Fine.  Get on with it Yachiru.”

She nibbled her lip and unwrapped some lollies which she placed in her mouth and crunched loudly.  It was a sign of her agitation as she usually sucked those, one at a time but Zaraki waited patiently, only tapping his foot and slapping his hand on his knee.  If she needed the false courage that the sweets provided, who was he to deny her?

Frustrated after a few minutes he tried to take the papers from her, but she shook her head and clutched them strongly.  “Wait, Ken-chan.  I’m trying to work out the best way of telling you this.”

“Start at the beginning and work through it ‘til you get to the end,” was the first thing he thought of to say and then said it.

Narrowing one eye she tried to quell him with her annoyed gaze.  He’d seen it before and only smiled at her.  

“Well the way the rules read, each Captain, or representative, has to devise a test or challenge based on either the motto or emblem of the division, though the meaning of the flower is also the motto, or something I think,” her voice trailed away again and she unwrapped another sweet which she sucked thoughtfully.

“Can we ignore the frig… flowers, and concentrate on the meanings?” was his irritated suggestion.

“Captain Zaraki.  Do you know the meanings of all the Divisions?” Ayasegawa was combing his hair as he asked, the glossy black filaments obscuring his face.  The man was developing into an increasingly annoying being with all the preening he was doing.

All those meanings?  He knew his own because that was important.  He’d joked once with Madarame about the meaning of the Ninth Division because it was ‘Oblivion’ and he thought it reflected the Captain of the time pretty well, oblivious to everyone and not because he was blind, but because he was distant in spirit.  Uninterested in everyone else, even the members of his own Division.  Yet if Ayasegawa was asking, maybe he knew the meanings.

“Do you?”

“No.”

“If you would both give me a chance, I’ll tell you,” Yachiru said impatiently.  “First Division is Truth and Innocence.”

There was silence as they each thought about it.  A smile threatened to twist Zaraki’s lips as he first heard the meaning.  Truth?  Often the old man seemed eager to conceal the truth, sooner than follow it through to the inevitable conclusion.  Innocence was a word that seemed to have no place in the Seireitei, at least not now.  Any innocence had been corrupted by recent events.  How anyone could apply a test for innocence he wasn’t certain, but if Yamamoto was devising the test, it was sure to be difficult, convoluted and would only be solved at particular cost to anyone involved.

“Assistant Captain, from what I’ve heard about similar contests, one competitor can win if they win a certain number in a row,” Ayasegawa had not allowed any sign of concentration to show visibly, but his eyes were intense.

“Who would have thought that handsome face hid a clever mind?  Do not be born good or handsome, but be born lucky.  If he was female, I’d advise you to marry him.”  

The vulture’s voice broke into his thoughts and her words caused revulsion.  By far he would have preferred to be able to concentrate on what was being said, but his mind was throwing images of a feminised Ayasegawa before him, not that it needed to work hard.  The supple neck and white skin, the delicate wrists.  It took some effort, and much frantic internal swearing and blasphemy to enable Zaraki to refocus on what was being said.  Too often this was happening, words summoning unnecessary images at him as a result of the vulture’s comments.  His mind was working too hard and most of its workings seemed centred on making him as wary as he could possibly be.  Worst of all, it was becoming pretty obvious that Atonomatsuri knew that and was using the situation to keep him from getting comfortable.  That didn’t make sense.  With her as the spirit of his zanpaku-to, how could he ever be relaxed or feel he was in charge of any thing?  

The nodding of Yachiru’s head showed that he hadn’t missed much.  That meant he could get the damned thing out of the way quickly and then he could get on with the other things he wanted to do, like learning how to use the new form of his blade and working out its problematical power.  And finding a way to keep the bird quiet.  That would be good.

“If one competitor can win six challenges in a row, and they have to be real wins, not draws, then the challenges are over, provided the Commander General agrees.  If he disagrees, then the whole list of challenges need to be met,” Yachiru trailed off, looking unhappy.  “Or if one of the challengers insists, the whole set of challenges has to be completed, no matter of there is only one left to complete and there is a clear winner.”

“Great,” Zaraki said, heavily.  Was the Clown Captain the sort of person who would insist that all the challenges be completed if he lost the first six?  He didn’t need to consider the matter for very long before he worked out the answer.  “What about the rest of these blasted meaning?”

“Second Division’s flower is the Tulip and the meaning of Seek Nothing,” Yachiru said.  “Captain Fon runs covert ops and the prison.  There could be all manner of meanings behind those words, either as a threat or something else.”

Zaraki nodded shortly.  Seek nothing.  Neither knowledge, assurance, nor assistance and yet he had requested assistance from the Captain of Second Division.  Or did it relate to a philosophy of acceptance: seek nothing because everything that was necessary would come of its own accord.  But considering the nature of the Second Division that sort of theory made no sense.  Seek nothing…desire nothing?  Require nothing?

“I’ll run through the list quickly, unless you want to go slowly, Ken-chan.  What do you want to do?”

Musing on the question he asked, “Do we have a copy of that list?”

Yachiru regretfully shook her head.  “I haven’t ever seen one of these before.”

“I could write out a copy,” Ayasewaga suggested, “but if you read it out first it will help me think while I write.  I’ve had one or two ideas about First Division, but until I know the meanings of the rest of them, I can’t be sure.”

“You were meant to learn them at the academy,” Yachiru pointed out.  Her teeth gleamed sweetly behind her lips as she made a mocking face at the Fifth seat.

“The Soul Reaper Academy?  You also attended that place, didn’t you Assistant Captain?” Ayasewaga’s face was the perfect representation of the respectful subordinate.  “I might have been absent during that class, or perhaps the teacher was away, or forgot.”

“Not bloody likely.” Vague memories of the class awoke in Zaraki’s mind.  He’d been annoyed by the noise of the instructor’s voice which had kept changing pitch almost coinciding with the times he’d nearly slipped into a doze.  Subtle though it had been, it had made him sit up and rouse slightly until his eyes again began to droop.  Had the man been watching him?  Damn Yamamoto might have done precisely that, because he had been the one teaching the class.  Worse, he’d made them answer a quiz the next lesson and Zaraki had barely scraped a pass.  If he hadn’t been half awake during the class, he would have failed abysmally.  

“It wasn’t important enough to remember,” Ayasegawa tried a different tack.  “What’s the point of symbolism?”

“It’s important now,” Zaraki pointed out wondering why he had to explain.

“Yes, I know that, but I didn’t know it at the time,” was the slow justification.

“I don’t remember much about it either, Ken-chan and neither do you,” Yachiru’s elbows were on the papers and her face rested between her palms.  “If they wanted us to remember they should make it into a song with a catchy tune.  Then we could sing it at parties.”

The Fifth seat tried.  It was obvious that he was attempting to keep his façade of indifference intact, but his mouth was twisting.  Yachiru noticed and began to make a range of her most ferocious faces at him, in between giggles.  Eventually they both broke into laughter.

“Who’d sing it?  Yamamoto and the Captains?  Can you imagine Captain Frosty performing a duet with Ken-chan?”

Zaraki was beginning to feel slighted.  Were they being rude about his singing voice, or was Yachiru making jokes about the Sixth Division Captain?

“Or Captain Unohana trying to harmonise with Captain Komamura?  Or even worse, the Captain-General singing?”  Ayasegawa was bent double, his hair hanging over his face as he heaved with laughter.  

The thought was absurd.  The Captain-General would never sing; should never sing.  If he did, it would be some old warrior ballad that went on for many verses that extolled the joy of doing one’s duty and following orders.  There would be a heavy martial beat and if Zaraki had to sit through it he’d be forced to kill someone, just to break the tedium.

“Yachiru, Ayasegawa, we’re not here to make jokes about songs.  I need to know about this thrice damned list of possible challenges I have to meet.  So far, all I’ve learnt is there can be up to eleven and they’re based on the Division that makes them up.  Right, so what’s the one for that sad bast… The guy who’s trying to fill in for Ichimaru?”

“Guess, Captain?” Ayasegawa had glance at the paper and was still giggling, apparently amused by what he’d read.

“Depression?  Treachery?  Slyness?”  He hated guessing games and resented having to participate.

“Despair.  The flower is the Daffodil,” Yachiru’s voice held a note of reproof.

Slowly, his head nodding, Zaraki could almost see it.  Ichimaru had been distanced from the rest of the Captains because of his propensity for teasing and gossip.  He’d spent a lot of time estranging people, either actively or through using others.  Look at the way he’d treated the woman who loved him and the man who had supported him.  Setting Izuru and Rangiku to fight one another had been malicious, but making Izuru and his little friend, Aizen’s second in command, fight was the sign of a man without pity.  If he’d had the time, would he have put Abarai and Izuru in a position where they too would fight, or Abarai and the girl, the one who was still unconscious?  He knew they’d formed a strong friendship back in the Soul Academy and fighting between them had been considered unthinkable.  The man had twisted friendships to almost breaking point.

His lips quirked as he thought about the same tactics being used on Abarai and Madarame.  It wouldn’t matter what Ichimaru had done there, those two would fight anyway, for fun, to prove who was better, or over whose turn it was to get the sake, or any reason.  And then they’d laugh and make another stupid bet that would probably end with one or the other, or even both confined to cells.

“Okay.  That’s three.  If we keep on at this pace it’ll be next week before we’ve gone through the list.” He was becoming a little impatient and wanted everything made clear so he could plan.  

“Then listen.  Fourth, that’s Lolly, has the Bellflower with the meaning ‘Those who grieve are loved.  Fifth, that’s Aizen’s one is the Lily of the Valley and the meaning is Sacrifice, Danger and Pure Love,” Yachiru continued.

“That can’t be right.”  Although he knew he was meant to remain quiet, the description for the Fifth Division seemed at odds with its previous captain, unless it meant sacrificing everything to ambition, danger to the Seireitei and pure love of power.

“Hush, Ken-chan.”

“The Lily of the Valley is poisonous which seems right,” Ayasewaga commented dreamily.  “I wonder who will make up the challenge for that one since the Assistant Captain is still unconscious.”

“A lot of flowers are poisonous if you eat them,” Yachiru told them.  “But why would you?  I can’t imagine snacking on a bunch of Marigolds.  Talking about snacks….” She paused and looked expectantly at her captain.

“You’ve got your lollies.  What do you expect me to do?  Have some tea.  Any snacks would have been thrown out when the room was redecorated,” he protested, annoyed at feeling even the slightest stab of guilt.  

Ayasewaga smiled and in a few seconds produced a selection of buns, cakes and fruit from the new cabinet on which he’d been resting his arm.  “I thought the Assistant Captain might become hungry.  You do keep insisting we learn, captain, so I thought I’d remember my lessons.”  He smiled complacently at the joyful cries of Yachiru who immediately seized a number of buns and cakes, placing them carefully in front of her before she began to eat.  The grateful nod he received from Zaraki he returned and then he selected some of the fruit for himself.  “It’s better for my complexion than all those empty carbohydrates,” he muttered as if to himself.  

Giving into temptation, Zaraki munched on a few convenient buns and some fruit as he thought it through.  It wasn’t enough.  “In between filling your face, tell us the rest of it,” he instructed Yachiru.  “What’s Sixth Division?”

“A Camellia and it means: Noble reason,” she licked jam off her fingers with satisfaction.  “I wonder if the use of the word Noble is deliberate,” she mused.  A blob of bean paste landed on her uniform and she scooped it up with her finger and sucked them thoughtfully, but with every sign of enjoyment.

“Probably,” Zaraki said gloomily.  Noble reason sounded like it would involve some sort of mental competition and knowing how Kuchiki thought he was certain it was going to be painfully convoluted and glaringly obvious at the same time.

“Iba’s Captain runs Seventh Division,” the Fifth seat said reflectively.  “I wonder if he will have anything to do with setting up the challenge.  Maybe we could get Ikkaku to have a talk to him.”

“But that would be cheating,” Yachiru said reprovingly, her mouth full of cake.  

“Just changing the odds slightly,” Zaraki amended thoughtfully.

“It won’t happen,” was the confident reply.  “The flower is the Iris and the meaning is Courage.  Rayban’s won’t betray his captain, not even for Baldy.  Not even for a vat of sake.  He’d do anything for Inspector Rex.”

Finally, one of the meanings sounded like something he would have no trouble with meeting its challenge.  Courage was something that actually meant something.  The Twelfth Division Captain acted like a weasel whenever courage was required; ducking and weaving out of the way, using his subordinates as shields and disposing of them as if they were little more than wooden soldiers.  That was one thing he would have to keep in mind through this whole contest.  The man had an over developed instinct for self preservation, at any cost to others.  

“Do we know about his weaknesses?” The question popped out, following what he’d been thinking.

“Why are we worrying about Captain Komamura’s weaknesses?” The perplexed look on Ayasewaga’s face showed that he hadn’t explained his train of thought.

“Not him.  Kurotsuchi.  His weaknesses,” Zaraki confirmed.

Yachiru looked thoughtful and Ayasegawa shifted a little as if he was fighting an impulse to blurt out information.  Waiting for either of them to speak, Zaraki knew that both of them would have to know something.  Why they were hesitating he didn’t know, but if they had discussed the weaknesses with the man’s second in command, did that mean they would have disclosed any of his weaknesses?  

A new thoughtfulness overcame him.  Weakness?  Him?  Kenpachi Zaraki, weak?  It was true he hadn’t achieved bankai, yet, but he had learnt to change to form of his zanpaku-to, but he hadn’t much practice in using the new form.  The method of using the ‘too late powers’ was still foreign to him and because of the chancy nature of the thing, it could well affect him badly, and his opponent.  

The whole challenge thing wasn’t only focused on his physical attributes.  The cunning mind of his opponent was definitely a factor that would work directly against Zaraki.  He’d have to hope that most of the challenges relied on either brawn or the agility of his body rather than his mind.

“Your mind is more suited to this than it would have been three weeks ago.” Atonomatsuri said, her voice level.

He hadn’t expected any assurance from the bird, not regarding his mental abilities.  Her usual put downs and sarcastic comments about his intellectual competence made him feel inadequate, not that he’d show it or mention it.  Now he was receiving her support he felt confused and tried not to display his reaction to her unexpected statement.

“I’ll work on a list, of his known weaknesses,” was the reluctant offer of his Fifth seat.  “But most of them have an element of strength to them; ways of making it extremely difficult to defeat him,” he added hastily as Zaraki nodded.

“And he doesn’t know you’ve been thinking more, Ken-chan, at least I haven’t told anyone,” was the unwanted announcement by Yachiru.  At his start of surprise at the comment, she added ruefully, “No one expects you to be brainy because you only fight.  Most people believe I only think about lollies and snacking.”

After an assessing look, Ayasewaga said, “But that’s what you planned, Assistant Captain.”

The sullen look that crossed her face made Zaraki wonder what other conflicting thoughts the girl was having.  “But no one ever looks deeper.  They accept what they see on the surface and prefer to deal with that.”

“Except Kurotsuchi.  Remember, he learnt from you about how to….”

“Oh.  But we weren’t going to talk about that.”  The defensiveness in her face, protruding bottom lip and posture warned of either tears of a fight occurring within a very short time.  He didn’t want this to degenerate into an exchange of insults.

This wasn’t getting them anywhere.  Trying to draw them back to the matter that most interested him, he cuffed Ayasewaga over the head, disarranging his hair and causing him to urgently run to the mirror to check his appearance.

“Why’d you do that to Pretty Boy?”

“You’re both getting off the point.  I need to know about the rest of the Divisions.  Unless you’re ready to hand over that paper…,” he said rapidly.

“But I like reading aloud.  It means you listen to me and pay attention to what I have to say.”

Whether she meant it as another reminder of his recent neglect, it struck him as such.  He scowled at her, offended by the attempt to make him feel guilty, but Yachiru just grinned at him and poked out her tongue.  “You should always listen to me Ken-chan because I’m always right.”

“No you’re not,” Ayasewaga contradicted her, assured now that his hair hadn’t suffered any permanent damage.

“I’m your Assistant Captain, so I’m always right,” Yachiru said lightly.

“But I’m your Captain,” Zaraki began.  “So I must be…”

“No, you’re my Ken-chan,” she paused and wrinkled her nose at him as he began to remonstrate, “And my Captain.  But you were my Ken-chan first, before anything.  Under the clouds.”

“Under the clouds,” he repeated, caught by the moment and the memory.

“Under the sky and above the ground, not in the water, nor the snow,” Ayasegawa chimed in, breaking the few moments of reverie.  

“Shut up.  You don’t know what you’re talking about.  All you know if how to look pretty and talk to girls and have fights with your zanpaku-to.  Maybe I should call you ‘Peacock’,” Yachiru wasn’t happy about the mockery, that much was plain.

A fleeting look of anguish crossed the man’s face.  “Please, don’t.”

“Distract them, Zaraki.  Come on.  I want to know about Eighth Division,” the blaring command from Atonomatsuri made Zaraki start and he stumbled into conversation before forming his thoughts coherently.

“Eighth.  What it about?”

“A lucky number, normally,” was the unexpected response from Ayasewaga.  

“I meant Eighth Division.  I don’t want to talk about numbers.  It’s bad enough having to discuss flowers,” Zaraki corrected him.

Glancing at the list, his friend giggled slightly.  “Captain Casanova has the Bird of Paradise as a flower.  It’s a funny flower, all spiky and colourful and large.  He’s got the best meaning, aside from ours of course.  It’s ‘Everything is Obtained’.  I don’t think that’s true, otherwise Dizzy would be nicer to him.”

“She is nice to him,” Zaraki stated recalling how she treated her captain with more respect than he was being shown.

“She orders him around all the time,” Yachiru asserted.

Without intending to, one of his eyebrows rose and a small smile forced itself on his mouth.  “She does?”

“And she tells him what to eat and how to behave,” Yachiru continued.

“I see,” he said smoothly.

“And tries to stop him drinking sake,” was the next charge.

“And does she ride on his back as well?”

The smile on Yachiru’s face faded and she glared at her captain.  “I’m nothing like Dizzy Izzy.  I’m nice to you Ken-chan.  I even tell you jokes.”

He nodded, amused. “And share your sweets with me,” he said, wondering how she would react.

“Sometimes.  When you’re good,” she amended.

Ayasewaga, not willing to be left out of the conversation added, “I prefer you as my Assistant Captain.  At least I don’t have to worry what will happen when you take off your glasses.  Or maybe that’s how everything is obtained,” he added darkly.  “She threatens to remove her glasses and people do what she tells them.”

“Don’t be silly.  Dizzy Izzy is nice, once you get to know her….”

“Or perform a coup and take over her prized position as President of the Shinigami Women’s Association,” Atonomatsuri did not hide admiration in her voice.  “She may look young, but I wouldn’t want to attempt to out strategise her.  Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

Instead of falling to the ground and foaming at the mouth or attempting seppuku at the adage, Zaraki simply rolled his eyes, and contemplated how many of his brain cells died each time an adage was uttered.  Would it be as many as when he drank a cup of sake?

“Now Ninth Division,” Yachiru continued unaware of the comments made by the vulture, “Ninth Division.”  She stopped and slanted her eyes quickly at her Captain.   

“Oblivion, yeah, that’s one I know.”

“The flower is the Buttercup,” was the prim reminder.  “Do you think Buttercups are oblivious or they mean oblivion?  They’re just yellow and pretty.  I don’t see how you’d get a meaning like that from a buttercup.  People call their cattle “Buttercup’ if they like them.  Do you think the cow notices?  Is that why it means oblivion because so many cows are called Buttercup and they don’t care?”

Ayasewaga crossed his right leg over his left and smoothed the material of his hakama under his fingers.  “I don’t know and I can’t say I care much,” he said.  “It’s just a flower.”

“But it must mean something else.  Otherwise, what’s the point?”

Yachiru had asked the question that had been at the back of Zaraki’s mind.  What was the point of the flower symbols?  There had to be a deeper meaning.

“Do you want me to explain, Kenny boy?” Atonomatsuri’s voice sounded keen to advise.

“No.”

With a brief shrug, Yachiru continued after looking at the list.  “Oooh, goody.  Now we come to the Tenth and Captain Pickle.  He keeps insisting he’s taller than me, but he won’t let me check because he’s too busy.  I used to call him Piccolo but he got upset so I call him Pickle now and he hates that too.  Why’s he always busy Ken-chan and why does he do all that paperwork?  Does he like it?  Why?  And Captain Great keeps giving him sweets and not me.  I think it’s unfair.”

Pickle?  She now called Hitsugaya, Pickle?  Maybe because of the green, he could see that, but Piccolo would have really annoyed the kid.  He hated it when anyone commented on his size.  Soon he might receive a stiff note asking him to discipline his Assistant Captain regarding names.  Too bad.  The kid would have to live with it.  They all had to face certain issues.  It was part of being a captain.  And who was Captain Great?

“You get enough sweets.  Anyway what’s the meaning?”  She’d tell him, eventually.

“The flower is a Daffodil and the meaning is ‘Mystery and Egoism’.  That’s sort of appropriate, isn’t it?  Though Pretty Boy should really be the captain of Tenth, except for the mystery part.  The egoism would….”

“Assistant Captain, you’re hurting my feelings,” Ayasewaga commented blandly.  “Do you wish me to cry now, or should I wait until I’m alone?”

Tilting her head to one side, Yachiru looked at him thoughtfully.  Zaraki could see no sign of tears, but he knew his Fifth seat was experienced at concealing his feelings.  Did he mean the words this time or was he simply teasing his superior officer?  

“Do you want me to give you my hanky?  You can cry now, if you want to, I don’t mind.” Yachiru said carefully.

Suddenly he smiled at her and said, “You could add the mystery.  The mystery of how many sweets you can eat.”

“Or how many times you look in the mirror every day,” she fought back.

They were so close to the end and were getting distracted again.  “Kurotsuchi.  I know I don’t need to worry about Twelfth, but tell me, just to keep it clear, what’s the meaning?”

Mechanically, the answer was given.  “Vengeance, strictness, independence and the flower is the Thistle.”

The contrast of those words struck him.  It seemed wrong to have them together, almost as if they were warring with each other.  Had the man taken the meaning of his Division to heart, or was it a coincidence?  

“Premeditated coincidence.  Synchronicity”

He’d been thinking along similar lines, but to hear the vulture voice the words made his leg twitch.  Synchronicity.  The word pried at the edge of his consciousness, trying to find purchase so it could become clear, but for the time it was only hovering.  Later, when he had time, then he could work it out.

“Vengeance.  Strictness.  But the man hates independence.  Any sign of it in his daughter is punished.  The only independence that piece of garbage wants is from the commands of the Captain-General,” Ayasewaga’s tone was disparaging.  The loathing in which he held the Twelfth Division Captain was becoming more blatant.

“We’ve got to the last one.  Captain Greats Division.”

That meant that Ukitake was Captain Great.  How did she get that name?  “Yachiru, I don’t understand the name.”

“It’s easy Ken-chan.  His flower is the Summer Snowflake and the meaning is Hope.  Do you understand now?”

Snowflakes and hope?  What did that have to do with calling him great?

Atonomatsuri chuckled deeply and with delight.  Once more he was reminded that he didn’t like it when she chuckled, especially with such a level of satisfaction.  No matter what this was about, he wasn’t going to like it.  As time passed and she didn’t make any comment he steeled himself and then said, “Explain.”

Her eyes widening, Yachiru looked at her friend and then glanced for support from the Fifth seat.  Perplexed he returned her look and shrugged, evidently as confused as Zaraki.  

A deep swallow, a shallow grin and Yachiru reluctantly, “It’s one of those things you don’t like, Ken-chan.”

“An adage?”

“Uhuh.”

Did he want to know?  Would it matter?  “Tell me.”

“Well, his hair is white, and the Summer snowflake is white and the Division has the motto of Hope, and his Division think he’s wonderful and they’re so protective of him…” the girl was gabbling.

“Get on with it.”

“He’s like the Great White Hope.  So Captain Great,” her voice tailed off.

In response he grunted and shook his head.  Would any of this prove to be of help with the challenges?  Bare facts only gave an indication.  The pain would come from trying to work out what the challenges might be.

No clue presented itself to him.

“Look at it this way, Kenny,” Atonomatsuri suggested.

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Author’s Note:

Garble narble zovs gleep blurp splinge bzuinj ydohrti sproing nurgle.

The above sentence explains clearly the reason for the time it took me to write this chapter.  Translations welcome.

I suppose an explanation is owed for one of the nicknames Yachiru creates in this chapter.  She calls Captain Komamura Sajin ‘Inspector Rex’.  ‘Inspector Rex’ is an Austrian (not Australian) police drama series which features a very talented Alsatian dog called Rex.  As the good captain looks a like a wolf and wolves and Alsatians look similar, it seemed a logical explanation, but then we could debate how would she know of the existence of this TV series?  Rukia told her.  Yes, that’s right.  Rukia told her all about it after she returned to the Seireitei.  Problem solved.

Onto the challenges.  I’ve tried to provide some clues as to what they might be, so let’s see who manages to read between the lines, beside the lines, the lines, behind the lines, skirting around the lines and near the lines.  Taking the lines hostage and torturing them for information is illegal under the Shinigami Convention and can lead to 100 years imprisonment with hard labour and only reality TV shows as entertainment.  You have been warned.

Please review.

MS
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